Page 4 of That Time I Accidentally Took Over the Mafia

“Damn,” Jax continues, glowing with fake enthusiasm. “You really know how to treat a lady.”

Mark’s face goes crimson. I swear, I hear his pride shatter. He looks like he might cry, and honestly, I don’t blame him.

Enzo, meanwhile, ignores everything. I’m actually surprised he didn’t stick Mark in the garbage disposal on sight and get to whatever they came here for. In fact, the seconds ticking by are driving my anxiety higher to know what the fuck is going on. Swirling his coffee like it’s the only sane thing in this madhouse, he stands when his phone rings. “I’ll be outside,” he mutters, leaving without another glance.

The rest of us sit in tension, Jax clearly enjoying himself. He leans back, smirking. “So, Mark,” he asks, entirely too casually, “tell me, how’d Delaney do in the bedroom last night?”

I sputter on my coffee, choking as I glare at him. This–mother fucker–did not seriously just ask that, did he? And nowI’m supposed to sit here while he conducts a fucking interview about my—our—private business?

It doesn’t matter that he has been balls deep in my private business… many times. But that was four years ago. You don’t just drop into someone’s kitchen with your pecks on display and talk to their fling about sexual performance ratings.

Mark looks like he is wishing he could just sprout a set of rocket boosters and fly right out of here, but Jax doesn’t wait for him to answer. "Luca, play the clip."

My heart actually stops.

The room goes dead silent as Luca pulls out his phone with an expression that tells me I’m going to hate this. My stomach sinks as Luca swipes across the screen and then—oh no.

“Oh yes, just like that—” my own voice fills the room. Then a pause. The long, awkward silence where I forgot Mark’s name and had to wing it with, “—yeah, just like that.”

My face goes redder than a lobster in a pot. I can't look at any of them. Not at Luca’s blank expression, not at Jax’s smug smile, and especially not at Mark’s face, which is so red it looks like it might catch fire.

Wait a god damn minute. My eyes, burning with rage now, fly to Luca. “Is my room bugged?”

He only smiles. This cocky son of a bitch.

Jax, as casual as ever, looks over at me, then back at Mark. “See, you can tell she’s faking it.” He’s almost proud of himself for this. “When she’s actually about to come–”

I swear I can feel my soul leaving my body.

This is the moment where I wish a tornado would pop down from the sky and swoop me off to another land. Perhaps Zeus could lightning bolt Jax in the asshole to stop him from whatever he’s about to say next.

Just as I’m about to throw my coffee at him, Enzo bursts back into the room, his sharp eyes cutting through the tension like a hot knife through butter.

“Leave,” he barks at Mark, his voice deep and commanding, not a trace of emotion or hesitation.

Mark looks like he’s about to drop dead from embarrassment, but thankfully, he still retains enough control over his body to grab his boots and make a beeline for the door.

I can’t even look at him. Not because I care—no, no, it’s because I’m too busy mentally blocking out the fact that I just got exposed by my own damn voice.

Mark doesn’t even look at me as he shuffles awkwardly by the door, trying to pull it open but it’s locked. Then he pushes it. Sweet baby Jesus. Mark’s face is a patchwork of red as he fiddles with locks.

When it’s clear he’ll be trapped here forever without help, I get up and unlock the door for him.

“I’ll–call you?” he mutters, his voice cracking in embarrassment.

And I can’t help but laugh because, what else can you do in a situation like this? “Please don’t.”

The second the door clicks shut behind Mark, I spin on my heel, arms crossed over my chest, a glare sharp enough to cut glass. I look at my three exes, all of them with smug smiles or impassive faces, and wonder if today is the day I commit my first and last triple homicide.

“Okay, what the hell is going on here?” I demand, looking at all three of them.

Jax, as usual, tries to calm me down like I’m some kind of child throwing a tantrum. “Hey, hey. Take a seat, Dels,” he says, his voice all too composed. But it’s the solemn look on Enzo’s face that catches my attention.

Luca is holding an envelope, and it doesn’t look like it’s going to end with me getting a fat stack of cash and a“Sorry for your awkward morning”note. Nope, this looks way too formal.

“Sit down, baby,” Jax presses again, his tenor a little softer now, and I know this is serious.

But something in that tone, those gentle words, pulls at the pain in my heart that I’ve worked so hard to wall off. “Don’t call me that,” I say quietly, barely above a whisper and a flinch registers across his face.

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