Page 111 of Heartless Mafia Prince

My one good eye blinked several times. There were two of him standing across from me.

“That’s fucking enough,” Galil’s deep voice bounced off the walls as he stepped into the room.

Bosco’s father was a giant. He was six-five.

Were all of our fathers here?

“Both of you sit down,” he ordered.

We stood there a moment longer, brooding. Damn near foaming at the mouth. Neither of us were ready to back down. Bosco and I staggered to the two chairs in front of the desk. I swiped my hand across my face, wiping away the blood.

“Still at odds over Ryah?” Galil shook his head.

He was clean cut. Like our fathers were most of the time. It was two in the morning and from what I could make out of my one good eye, he had on a three-piece gray suit.

“This motherfucker needs to get it through his head Ryah’s with me. Stop disrespecting my relationship, Bosco.”

“Fuck you. All of a sudden, you’re a one-woman man. Bullshit!”

“Says the motherfucker who sleeps with two chicks most nights. Get off your high and mighty horse. Don’t pretend if you were with her, you’d be faithful.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. Those women are a cheap replacement for her.”

I stood quick grabbing him up by his shirt. “This is the last time I’ll say this. Respect my relationship with Ryah, or you’re a dead man.”

Galil stepped forward. “Sit the fuck down, Rocco. No one’s killing anyone.”

Teeth bared, I plopped in the leather chair. Grabbing my knife out of my waistband would be quick and easy. I’d slit his throat like a pig’s belly.

Galil leaned over, placing his hand on Bosco’s shoulder. “Son, you don’t let a woman come between you two. You’ve been friends all of your lives. Did Ryah choose him?”

His bloody lips tightened. “Yeah.”

Galil straightened his spine, wiping his hands together. “That’s the end of it. Move on. There will be other women.”

He glared at his father. “Not like her,” he growled, through gritted teeth.

“Bosco, il mio ragazzo è finito.”

He said, “Bosco, my boy, it’s finished.”

Bosco stumbled to his feet. “Rocco, è finite,” he said, “It’s finished.”

“Bene,” I growled, “Fine.”

I limped out of the building. The crisp night air hit my throbbing face as I approached the truck. Agosto held the rear passenger door open.

“Rocco, do you need anything?”

I winced as I braced my hand on the seat and climbed inside. “Yeah, take me to Ryah’s.”

He nodded before closing the door.

All I wanted to do was lie in my woman’s arms and go to sleep. Every muscle and bone ached in my body. I reached into the seat pocket and retrieved tissue. Dabbing at the blood, I leaned back against the seat on a long sigh. My phone vibrated in my jacket pocket. It was probably dad calling to tear me a new asshole.

I grabbed my phone and stared at the name through the cracks on the screen. Great, just what I needed. A broken phone. I tapped ignore, sending dad to voicemail.

“Agosto, I need a new phone. That fucker Bosco cracked my screen.”

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