Page 42 of Unhinged Little Angel

He catches my fist before it can connect with his face and uses the leverage of my movement to wrench my arm behind my back, spinning me around too quickly to get a good look at his face. A flash of auburn is all I see before he has me pinned to the wall, the rough brick abrading my cheek.

“Get the fuck off of me,” I yowl, kicking and squirming, ignoring the sharp pain in my shoulder.

The man tuts and tugs on my arm harder, sending a radiating jolt of pain from my shoulder through the rest of my body.

“You’ve been a naughty little liar, Dante. Don just wants the truth to come out.”

“Oh, is he ready to confess to what he actually did? Because what I managed to send him down for was a fucking fraction of what he deserved.” I stop struggling and give in to the weight of my attacker’s elbow in my back, his sweaty hand wrapped tightly around my wrist. “Is he really prepared to go up against the Morettis just to expose my half-truths?”

He chuckles and the heat of his breath makes my skin crawl.

“That was cute actually, he got a kick out of it, and you made a few things a lot easier for me with your little wedding stunt too. So thanks for that.” He wrenches my arm harder again, but eases up the pressure between my shoulder blades, shifting his weight. “Now, just hold still for one second.”

“Fuck the fuck off you cunt-ass piece of shit.” I start to buck again, clenching my teeth against the scream of pain that threatens to explode from my lips every time I try to tug my arm free.

He just chuckles again, and I hear the hiss of a lighter. I barely have time to wonder what he’s doing before searing pain lances through my forearm. Not just the pain of being burned, but of metal searing against my skin, making my flesh boil and melt. I do scream this time. A rage-filled, indignant shriek from deep in my gut as I finally figure out a way to get some leverage, shoving my knee up and using it to push myself off of the wall. He’s startled enough by the move that we stumble back, and he curses as he falls. Another nauseating jolt of pain explodes from my shoulder as we crash to the ground. I can’t fight him with a dislocated shoulder and no weapon.

So, as much as it hurts my pride, I run.

Chapter 18

SALVATORE

“See, something isn’t adding up.” Alessio points to the lines where somehow we ended up with more money than there’s supposed to be in one of our business accounts.

“Well, too much money has to be a better discrepancy than missing money.” I drag my hand absently along my jaw as I try to puzzle out how we could end up with an extra ten thousand dollars in this account without any of the others coming up short.

“Sure, but it’s weird, right?” he insists.

I sit forward and reach for the papers so I can take a closer look at everything. The money didn’t come from nowhere, so the answer has to be in there, we’re just not seeing it at first glance. My phone starts to buzz in my pocket, drawing my attention away from the accounts before I even dig into them.

I’m still scanning the papers in front of me as I reach for my phone.

“Hoping it’s your husband sending you dick pics while you’re at work?” Alessio smirks.

He’s trying to goad me, but all he manages to do is make me grin like the lovesick fool I am. There’s no way it’s a dick pic from Dante, but that doesn’t mean I’m not hoping it’s a snarky, bratty text from my mouthy little angel.

I finally tear my eyes off the accounts and look at my phone. It’s a call, not a text. Dante’s name lights up the screen as my phone continues to vibrate in my hand. My pulse stutters.

“Everything alright, Angioletto?” I answer instead of wasting time with hellos. If he’s calling me in the middle of the day, it’s not a social call.

The harsh sound of panting breath sends a confused reaction of lust and terror coursing through me. I push away from the table, throwing Alessio an apologetic look, and press the phone closer to my ear as I move into the other room and drop my voice so Les won’t listen in.

“Angel, if this is meant to be an obscene phone call, please tell me now before I get the wrong idea and tear out of here to get to you.” I try to keep my tone light, but it’s nothing but the cold, hard steel of controlled panic.

Another gust of white noise as the phone crackles with more heavy breaths, and then a quiet, almost inaudible whimper.

“Sal,” Dante whispers, and it’s anything but sexy.

“Where are you, Angel?” Telling Alessio I have to go is the last thing on my mind. I’m not sure I even close his door behind me on my way out. I have one hand in my pocket fishing out my keys and the other clutching the phone so tight to my ear I think I hear the damn thing crack under my grip. “Angel?” I say again, trying to keep my voice gentle in the face of the panicked rage already rising in my chest.

If anyone so much as laid a finger on him, they’re already fucking dead.

“Um, the, uh, corner of Fourth and Washington,” he finally says, a quiver in his voice.

“Where’s Antonio? Is he with you?” The call switches to Bluetooth as soon as I’m in my car, but I can’t make myself let go of the phone.

Dante scoffs. It’s barely more than a huff of breath, but he manages to lace it with his signature scathing snark. It sets me at ease just a little. Whatever happened, he’s still my brave, strong Angioletto, full of rage and venom to defend himself.

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