Page 53 of Texting My Mafia Savior

I snatch my hand away. It’s a risk. A petty look flashes across his face, his eyes glinting. He isn’t used to people telling him no, the jerk. For the first time since we arranged this plan, I allow myself to feel proud about what we’re doing. We’re not just saving Aunt Lucy. We’re saving every woman stuck in the VIP section with this freak leering at her, touching her against her will.

“Okay, Enzo, you can come. But I’m not getting in a car with you when you’ve clearly been drinking. I was going to get a cab before I invited you… and I’m going to get a cab now.”

He grins like a man would at a pet, vaguely amused. “Oh, right? You’re giving the orders, are you, tubby?”

My cheeks flame against my will. Shame touches me. “Maybe I’m happy you’re interested in Lilly, not me,” I spit.

He chuckles. “Relax, I’m just messing with you. I’d think you’d have thick skin.”

“I don’t know what Lilly sees in you.”

He beams. “She’s been talking about me?”

I play my role and roll my eyes. The gross factor grows exponentially. “Yeah, honestly, I think it’s the most disgusting thing ever.”

He gives me a nudge. “Well, come on, then. Let’s go catch acabif you’re going to be a paranoid piggy. If you’re lucky, you might even get to watch me and your friend go at it together.”

As we walk through the club together, a sharp, ugly sensation surges through me. Again, other women give me jealous looks. I want to scream at them, tell them who he really is and the dark things he’s done. They think he’s a Hollywood mafia boss or maybe a character from a book. But he’s nothing like that. He’s like a little kid with a magnifying glass, burning ants—only the ants are people.

Outside on the street, Enzo pulled me toward some parked cabs, grabbing my hand. I look over at the parked sedan, shaking my head. I know Nico will hate seeing him with his hand on me. Nico has become so possessive, so needy, so jealous, and the crazy part, the part that probably means I’m just as fucked up as he is? I’m exactly the same.

Enzo shoves me into the back of the cab. “Give him the fucking address, then.”

I give the driver the address—the apartment we’ve rented. Enzo casually reaches into his jacket pocket and takes out a small blade, tossing it from hand to hand. He sees me looking, grins, and then winks. “Don’t get nervous. I just get bored easily, that’s all. Let’s hope Lilly’s up for some fun. A moan of pleasure and a scream, you know, they don’t sound all that different.”

“Am I supposed to be scared?”

The driver must know who Enzo is. He stares straight ahead as if stubbornly refusing to get involved or acknowledge what’s happening.

“There’s a lot of you to cut, too,” Enzo says, chuckling. “A hell of a lot.”

I turn away so he can’t see how afraid he’s making me. I try to fight it, to lie to myself, but I can’t. He means it. If I were foolish enough to take him to Lilly, he’d end up torturing us tonight. That’s why I can’t feel bad about what we’re doing.

CHAPTER 22

NICO

Ifollow the cab, a song of war echoing in my mind. When I saw him with his hand on my woman, I almost lost it. When I saw that, I didn’t have to question if shewasmy woman anymore. I didn’t have to second-guess it. So what if most of our bonding has happened through text messages? When I saw what I saw, that motherfucker touching her, I knew. She was mine the moment I saw her outside the cafe, looking up at the sky, already my angel.

Now, I watch as they pull up outside the apartment building. Enzo climbs out, laughing at his joke, then reaches into the back of the cab and forcibly drags Arria out. I close my eyes, take a breath, and warn myself to calm down. I’m ready to hurt him. I’ve never been readier for violence in my entire goddamn life.

She brushes him away, showing a poise and confidence that makes me proud. Then she gestures to the apartment. He steps forward, trying to loop his arm around her.

I can’t take it anymore. The plan was to wait until we were in the apartment, but the Nightmare comes out in me, the Barbarian. Iturn into the man I was, The Savior, the man who kept this city as safe as my fucked-up position could let me.

“Get your fucking hands off her!” I roar. The street is quiet. Enzo turns and stares at me like I’m a ghost.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

I leap on him, grab his neck, and kick his feet out from underneath him. I bury my hands in his throat so that his eyes bulge, and then I headbutt him for good measure, his nose exploding with blood. He gasps and falls to the ground as I let him go. I reach into my pocket, grab the cuffs, and shove his hands behind his back.

Before he can say anything or make any petty threats, I shove a gag into his mouth.

I look up to find Arria staring at me with her mouth open, her eyes wide. She looks scared of me. I never wanted her to look at me like that. But it’s too late to think about it now.

“Open the door,” I growl. “Before somebody sees us.”

After a moment, as if waking from a dream, she turns toward the door. “I thought we were going to wait until he was inside.”

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