Page 19 of Heartless Mafia Prince 2: Rocco & Ryah

“You tried to kill me, bitch?” Fists clenched at her sides she stood in tight jeans, a loose-fitting t-shirt that no longer hid her belly, and a lightweight black leather jacket.

“Get the fuck off my property.”

I waved to Fresco. “She needs to leave.”

He left his post near the front gate and walked toward the house. Ercole drove a suburban through the gate, almost running over my bodyguard. He could never keep this one on a leash.

He hopped out of the truck.

“Melanie, we have to go.”

Flames danced in her eyes as she ran toward me.

I didn’t move. Her shoulder bumped into mine as she froze in the foyer of my mansion.

“Go ahead, look around. See what will never be yours,” I taunted.

“Our bedroom is the last one down the hall on the left.” I pointed to the winding staircase.

Her sinister gaze landed on me. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Not completely. I mean, this part I am, but all the other shit you pull, no. He’s, my husband. You’re his whore. Play your fucking position and stay out of the way. I don’t want to hear about you. And I damn sure don’t want to see your fucking face,” I growled.

“Is that why you had someone run me off the road?”

A dark chuckle released from my throat. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Yup, I tried to kill her and the spawn growing inside of her. But she didn’t know for sure because my father-in-law wanted her dead almost more than me. She was bad for business. I hated the whispers I heard in the shadows when I attended benefit dinners with my husband. Let’s face it, this bitch had to go.

Her eyes turned to the partially painted mural on the ceiling. I took pleasure in watching her take in all that was mine.

Ercole stepped behind her. “Melanie, it’s time to go.”

In the blink of an eye, her heavy hand met my cheek. The loud smack hung in the air.

I cupped my burning face. “I’ve had it with you.” Lunging at her, I wrapped my hands around her neck. She did the same. We stumbled to the ground, trying to choke the life out of each other.

Our bodyguards tore us apart.

“Get her out of my house, Ercole,” I yelled.

By the time I returned from Italy, that bitch would be dead.

***P***

The calming ocean held my attention. I inhaled the salty air in Sicily as I stood on the balcony.

“Rosetta, I’m here.”

Spencer’s strong arms wrapped around me from behind. I buried my long, brown hair in his chest. “How have you been?”

Why did I ask that question? Maybe to make short talk.

“Rosetta, why are we here?”

I turned in his embrace and stared into his tranquil eyes. “Three years ago, we made love in every room of this house. Do you remember that?”

A smile swept across his face. “Yeah, we finished off two bottles of wine from the cellar. And snorted too much coke. That was a wild night.”

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