Page 115 of Ruthless Mafia Boss 3: Vino and Claire

He returned the hug firmly. “Only because of you.”

“No,” I corrected warmly, clapping him on the shoulder. “We did this together.”

He nodded appreciatively. “A quick toast, then.” He motioned to his guard, who swiftly poured vodka into our shot glasses.

Claire settled comfortably in her seat next to where I stood. She held her glass of cranberry juice high as the rest of us raised our glasses.

“???????????, salute!” Serigé and his men called enthusiastically.

“Salute!” we echoed, tipping back the burning vodka, savoring our victory.

Fifteen minutes later, the jet smoothly ascended into the night sky. Finally, we were headed home.

I drew Claire into my arms. “In five hours, we can pull off our masks. I want to be almost home before your face is revealed.”

She pressed a kiss to my cheek. “I’m fine with that. I’m ready to go home.”

“Welcome to America,” I announced, clapping my hands as my voice echoed through the warehouse.

The two figures, stripped down to their undergarments, sat restrained in wooden chairs at the center of the room. Their heads twitched beneath burlap sacks as they groaned and squirmed.

“Where am I?” Polina croaked, her voice groggy.

She wiggled her wrists and ankles in the restraints. Her bare feet moved nervously over the plastic sheeting stretched across the cold cement floor.

I stood calmly, hands clasped behind my back, and gave a simple nod to Vix and Glacier.

They ripped the sacks off their heads.

“What the fuck is going on?” Ivan barked, his face twisting with confusion and anger.

“Ah, that’s right,” I said coolly, stepping forward in a black leather butcher’s apron over cargo pants and a white ribbed tank. “We haven’t been properly introduced.”

I raised my gloved hands. “I’m Vino Angelo Romano. Mafia boss of the New Jersey Romano Crime Family.”

Ivan’s face darkened. “What the fuck did my wife and I ever do to you?”

“You disrespected my wife at the party,” I said, voice flat.

His brows furrowed. “I don’t know you.”

“My wife’s name is Delaney and…” I began, then picked up the prosthetic mask from the stainless-steel table.

“I was Angelo Agresta, Gia’s cousin.”

His eyes darkened.

Recognition hit his face.

“Gia and Eon are, in fact, my real cousins. Their mother is my aunt. The same cousin who went to college with your ex—Claire Manning.” I dropped the mask and picked up a hammer.

“I’m really grateful that Claire called and asked Gia for help,” I added, slipping a bouffant cap over my dark curls.

“Claire had to change her identity because of you two. Her father never got to see her walk across the stage to receive her degree. She couldn’t go home and visit her family—you stripped her of her freedom,” I roared, slamming the hammer hard onto his kneecap.

He screamed. Spit flew from his mouth.

“Last year, I met Hope at a Christmas diner. She’s now engaged to my cousin Noah. Anyway, I asked if she had a cute sister, and she showed me a video of a woman with an incredible smile and a laugh that I couldn’t resist.”

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