Page 17 of Married with Mayhem

After all, I was born into a high profile mafia family.

It’s a secretive, male-centered, exceedingly violent club full of codes and decrees. If my sisters and I were men instead of women, there’s no doubt we would have been inducted into its chaos long ago. As it is, I’ve pieced together enough to understand the truth is chilling.

The mafia is a cutthroat realm filled with merciless killers.

And Monte has been in the middle of it for quite some time.

Maybe this knowledge should instill an element of fear, or at least wariness. Growing up in my father’s house, I truly did fear a lot of the men who lingered on the fringes of our lives like menacing shadows. One time, Anni ended up with a badly dislocated shoulder after her defiance enraged our father and he ordered one of his bodyguards to rough her up. The flashback still has the power to make me feel sick to my stomach.

But the idea of fearing Monte feels preposterous. Sure, we have a history of bickering. And there’s a high probability he believes I’m extremely annoying. Yet I’m also sure that he’d immediately break the teeth of anyone who laid a hand on me.

What a paradox.

Here I am, sitting next to a man who may not even like me but who also races to my rescue when I call and acts like he’d burn the airport down if a hair on my head is harmed. It’s quite the puzzle.

“Hey, Monte?”

He straightens the wheel and keeps his eyes focused ahead as he steers out of the parking garage. “Yeah, Sabrina?”

“Thanks for coming to save me. I mean it. I owe you.”

A fleeting smile tugs at his lips. “You don’t owe me a thing.”

“I hope you really weren’t busy at the time.”

“Nope. In fact I was pretty damn bored so this gave me something to do.”

“Excellent. Curing your boredom is probably my biggest accomplishment today.”

He snorts. “You hungry?”

“To the point where I feel weak and little dark spots keep dancing in front of my eyes.”

“There’s half a bag of barbecue chips in the glove compartment. But if you can hold out a little longer, my dad’s pizza is worth waiting for.”

“Oh, yes,” I groan in a way that sounds brazenly sexual.

He cuts a sharp glance in my direction and I clear my throat to cover my mortification.

“I mean, I’ll wait. Gino’s is the best and I haven’t eaten real pizza in forever.”

“How did they run out of pizza in Sicily?”

“I meant New York pizza. Can I roll the window down? I need to smell the city.”

He raises his eyebrows but shrugs and accelerates to join the parkway traffic.

I turn my face to the open window and inhale deeply. Right now there’s nothing to smell but exhaust fumes but I’m still flooded with delight that sinks all the way to my bones. I could be blindfolded and my body would still sense that I’m home.

“HELLO NEW YORK!” I scream at passing cars. “I’VE MISSED YOU!”

Monte chuckles and shakes his head. “You’re still a piece of work, you crazy girl.”

4

MONTE

My intentions were noble when I offered Sabrina a piggyback ride to the car.

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