Page 115 of The Dark Obsession

When I narrow my eyes at him, he amends. “Not Malory’s identity. If they think she means nothing to us, or better yet that she’s dead, it’ll keep her safe. But from your actions alone, your grudge against John has become quite evident.”

Yeah well, Rafe and I might have left quite the display of flayed meat hanging off each separated limb from the asshole he caught last night, disturbing me and my girl with his call about whether I wanted to join in on the mutilation.

Something that's been adopted since my brother’s ruthless rule. Dante’s unrestrained brutality inspiring unwavering loyalty among his ranks, making him a born leader.

A Capo.

“Nonetheless they must be dealt with sooner or later.” Dante leans back in the padded armchair that barely fits his bulk. The man is even bigger than I am and that’s an impossible feat.

“We haven't chased the Bratva out of our territory for nothing all those years ago. And it will fucking stay that way.” He states with deathly finality.

Once the Capo sets his mind on something there’s nothing and no one that will stand in his way. No matter how much blood has to be shed in the process.

“None of this touches her.” I snarl.

I’m more than content to leave my brother to his wars. Not caring how many bodies he leaves behind as long as it isn’t the one person I’ve come to care about.

“You have my word. She'll be protected.”

With a final nod, I stand. Heading for the exit without another word.

After spending half of the night questioning and then dismembering another Russian who's been foolishly looking for what's mine, I ache to get back to Malory.

Without her in my arms, I feel emptier than ever before, the bottomless hole in my chest throbbing at its edges.

“And Tyson?”

One foot out of the door, I look over my shoulder, meeting Dante’s unreadable gaze.

“Take care of her, brother.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Tyson

It’s almost dawn when I finally step onto the porch.

I’ve wasted all night with the drive to LA and back after Raffaele’s call about a Bratva enforcer whom Malory’s bastard of a father hired to search for her. Right up until he managed to run directly into my half-brother’s open arms.

Our men know what to do when anyone on the West Coast starts asking questions they shouldn’t.

If I could feel empathy towards anyone other than my girl, I’d feel sorry for the dead guy.

Rafe is brutally violent on his best days and outright deadly on his worst.

He would have disposed of him right then and there, but I wanted to deal with it myself.

John won't get his hands on her.

Not today.Not ever.

No one will fucking take her away from me.

It would have been prime opportunity to send the message of his beloved daughter’s death back with the Russian’s body parts. Yet when it came down to it, I couldn’t bring myself to execute.

It’s inevitable, but I find myself dreading the moment.

Wanting to keep her to myself a little longer before sharing her with the rest of the world.

---