Page 68 of Mob Boss's Second Chance

“Then again,” I purse my lips, opening the door slightly to show them a taste of freedom. “You could leave. Take my first option. Save your knees.”

Leaving the door ajar, I walk away, but not before Geller’s scream cuts through the air.

The other two don’t hesitate. As I anticipated, they bolt for the exit, desperation in their wide eyes. But they’re sloppy, panicked. One makes it past the threshold—his fate waiting for him ahead, but the sweaty one isn’t as lucky.

A hand around his tie stops him dead in his tracks.

He gags, clutching at my wrist, his eyes bulging as I yank him back. His breath reeks of fear, and I lean in just enough for him to feel the weight of his mistake.

“Where do you think you’re going?” My voice is calm, almost pleasant, but the venom beneath it seeps through. “To tattle?”

His head shakes so violently that sweat flings from his temple. “No. Not at all. I wouldn’t—I swear. I’m going to turn down the case,that’s all.”

I tighten my grip just enough to make him whimper. “I don’t believe you.” I let the silence stretch between us, let his terror work against him. “You walked in here thinking I’d be scared. That I’d back into a corner.” I cock my head, watching as his lips tremble. “And you think I’d let you leave just like that? No consequences?”

His throat bobs, his pulse hammering beneath my grip.

I smirk. “No. I didn’t think so. I’ll put you to good use.”

One of the men slides a chair over, and I push the man down on it. He sits, shaking all over. I grab another and set it in front of him, sitting down.

I tighten my grip on his tie just enough to make his breath stutter. His entire body is shaking, but I don’t let up. I want him to feel the weight of his choices, the certainty of what happens if he betrays me.

“You’ll be my eyes and ears in your office,” I murmur, my voice a low threat. “You’ll tell me everything—every whisper, every plan, every fucking move they make.”

He nods frantically. “Okay. Okay. I swear.”

Pathetic.

I don’t need men like him—spineless, easily bent. Weak-willed men crumble the moment pressure is applied. But that’s the beauty of it. The more I have, the easier it is to make examples.

I release him, watching as he stumbles back, gasping for breath. His trembling hand goes to his throat, but I don’t care. My mind is already elsewhere.

There are bigger problems to handle, like the dead man walking who has decided to put a target on Natalie Monroe.

That?

That’s something I’m going to enjoy handling personally.

Chapter Twenty-One

Natalie

Idon’t know how long I’ve been staring at my phone—not just today but for the past couple of days.

It’s become a part of my dreams, too. I dream about getting a call from Ethan and dining at a gorgeous restaurant with him. When I close my eyes, his hand is clasped around my neck, and his mouth is on mine, kissing me like I’m being punished.

I know I’m not. I know it’s because he wants me that bad.

Then I wake up, and I reach for my phone on the bedside table without thinking—like a habit formed over time, one that has proven difficult to break. It’s only when I see the notifications, none of them from him, that I realize what I’m doing.

It’s then I realize that Ethan is never going to call me back.

“He’s an asshole,” Danielle says with enough vehemence and anger for both of us. “I thought he was a good guy, just a busy one, but he’san asshole.” She rolls her eyes as if the emphasis would pass her point further across.

The problem is, Ican’tagree with her. I know I should—Ethan made it seem like we were something and then ghosted me out of the blue. And it wasn’t the first time.

But I can’t.

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