Page 12 of That Time I Accidentally Took Over the Mafia

“Calm the fuck down,” he growls in my ear.

Calm down? There’s a fucking assassin in the room, and he wants me to calm down?

I’m about to shove my elbow into his ribs when Stacie stumbles into the kitchen, gun raised. Enzo sweeps his leg out,tripping her with the grace of a ballerina and the efficiency of a trained killer. She hits the floor hard, her gun clattering out of reach.

And then I notice Jax… on the fucking kitchen counter.

What in God’s name?

He’s standing on the counter like a man who has absolutely no business being there, hunched over as he pushes the fridge with all his weight.

I’m left frozen, watching the absurdity of it as Enzo keeps me in an iron hold.

The fridge tips, slow and deliberate, Jax rides it down until it crashes to the floor with a deafening bang.

There’s a sickening splatter of blood as the heavy appliance lands on Stacie’s head, cutting off her scream mid-shriek. The silence that follows is almost more horrifying than the chaos.

I stare at the scene, my mind blank.This cannot be real.

I may actually throw up.

Enzo’s hold is loosening. He thinks I’ve given up. Not a chance mother fucker! I was only stopping to be momentarily traumatized by seeing someone’s head get crushed and their brains ooze out.

Okay, that was too much. Let’s stop while we’re ahead.

I shove my head back into Enzo’s nose, the satisfying crunch of cartilage sending a jolt of adrenaline through me.

“Fuck!” he roars, releasing me, taken by surprise.

I spin around, driving my knee into his groin with all the force I can muster.

“And that’s for firing me,” I snap, a mixture of rage and satisfaction bubbling to the surface.

I sprint for the door, flinging it open and making a beeline for my car. Luca is leaning against a black SUV, arms crossed, looking like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He wiggles his fingers at me in a lazy wave.

“Arrogant prick,” I mutter, flipping him the bird as I climb into my car.Huh, would you look at that. I still have the spatula.

I twist the key in the ignition. Nothing.

I try again. Nothing.

“Fucking Luca!” I slam my hands against the steering wheel, my frustration reaching its boiling point.

Enzo comes storming toward me, fuming. He might as well be a cartoon character—steam practically coming out of his ears.

“I don’t fucking think so,” I mutter, grabbing my bag and flinging the door open. I start to run, but I don’t make it two steps before Jax is in front of me, pushing me back against the car with his body. “Damn,” he drawls, his voice low and smooth. “I sure did miss you, Peaches.”

I shove my knee into his crotch. Hard.

“Miss this,” I snap, dropping my bag, I slap him across the face with the spatula. “Asshole!”

Slap.

“Ow!”

“Son of a bitch!”Slap.

“Mother—”Slap.

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