Page 2 of Bound to the Mafia Guard

Those rose-colored glasses had been ripped off my face and stomped on when I’d been taken. I shivered as the memories of what I’d endured while held captive flashed behind my eyes like a vintage photo reel. Each click of the shutter was another bad memory.

Buried in memories was no way to live, and eventually Andro’s generosity would reach its limit. Even his new omega, who really seemed to like me, wouldn’t be able to stop him from kicking me to the curb.

With trembling fingers, I reached for my laptop and pulled up the class schedule for school. The next semester didn’t start for a couple weeks, but I only needed a few credits to graduate. Maybe I could get them all done in a single semester and just be done. Then I could work on the book I’d been thinking about for years.

1

TREV

The cold metal of the bar bit into my palms as I gritted my teeth, pushing through the burn in my muscles as I finished my set. Sweat dripped down my face, stinging my eyes until I was blinded while I forced out one more rep.

My arms were shaking as I raised the weight above my chest. "Fuck." I couldn’t hold it, racking the bar with a loud clang that echoed through the empty gym.

Everything hurt as I sat up slowly, taking stock of the healing skin where the bullet had torn through me. The scar tissue pulled uncomfortably as I reached for my water bottle, but I ignored it. If reaching was too hard, I’d never be ready to get back to work.

I drained half the water in one gulp before I looked at my reflection across the room and winced. I’d never looked so haggard. Dark circles cradled my eyes from so many sleepless nights, and my bare torso was a map of scars. Most were faded but plenty were still pink and new.

I traced them with my fingertips, remembering the searing pain as the bullet ripped through me. The metallic tang of blood in my mouth was almost as traumatizing as knowing I was letting down Jeremiah. My lapse of judgment and awareness could have gotten him killed, and I refused to ever put any of the Ferrinis in that kind of predicament again.

My side of the family, the Urbanis, had protected the Ferrinis for generations. I couldn’t be the first in my bloodline to break the cycle. Guarding my cousins was more than a job, it was my purpose. My calling.

I'd give my life for any one of them without hesitation.

If I was strong enough to do it, that is.

Frustration bubbled up inside me as I stared at myself in the mirror. I'd lost so much muscle mass during my recovery. My arms looked scrawny and my chest barely had any definition at all. How could I protect anyone like this?

Orsino kept telling me I was being too hard on myself, but that didn’t make me feel better. There was still an alpha on the loose who had been involved in whatever omega-trafficking hustle Russo was running. Until he was caught and dealt with, none of the Ferrinis would be safe, especially if I didn’t bulk up. I needed to come back bigger, stronger, and better than before. I owed it to my family.

I shook my head and pushed up to my feet. I didn't have time to feel sorry for myself. The family needed me at full strength, and I couldn't let them down. Not again.

At the weight rack, I selected a set of dumbbells heavier than I should have attempted and started a set. My arms protested asI curled them, but I ignored the burn, focusing on keeping my form true.

"One." I was hyper-focused on my biceps as I counted softly under my breath. "Two. Three."

By the time I got to ten, my arms were shaking. By fifteen, they felt like jelly, but I pushed on. "Come on, Trev. Don't be a fucking baby."

The dumbbells clattered to the floor when my grip gave out on rep eighteen. "Dammit!" I slammed my fist against the wall, welcoming the sharp sting of pain that vibrated through me. At least that kind of pain was better than feeling helpless. Useless.

I slumped down onto a nearby bench and buried my face in my hands. How was I supposed to protect the family when I could barely lift my arm after a few reps?

The thought of letting the family down made my chest ache worse than any bullet wound ever could.

They trusted me with their lives. And I was too weak to even finish a damn workout.

"Get it together, Urbani." I went over to the treadmill, determined to at least get some cardio in. A few miles were better than no miles. My side twinged in protest once I started to jog, but I pushed through the pain.

I had to get stronger. Had to be better.

The rhythmic pounding of my feet against the belt lulled me into an almost meditative state. It had been too long since I’d let go of all my worries and focused solely on my breathing and the burn in my underused muscles.

It wasn't until I felt a hand on my shoulder that I realized I was no longer alone. Whirling around, I lifted my fists to defend myself and almost flew off the track.

"Whoa there, tiger. It’s just me." Andro laughed and reached out to help steady me.

I relaxed my stance and stepped off the treadmill. "Sorry, boss. Didn't hear you come in." Another failure. I should never let down my guard, even in the safety of the Ferrini home.

Andro cocked his head as he inspected my sweat-soaked appearance. "How long have you been in here?"

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