Page 64 of Ruthless Mafia Boss 3: Vino and Claire

I crept closer, peeking around the corner. Vino stood at the stainless steel countertop, his phone propped up on a stand. He appeared to be on a FaceTime call. His hands moved with unsettling calm, dicing vegetables on a cutting board with a glinting butcher knife. Xavier, Glacier, and another man sat on the opposite side of the counter, silent and sharp-eyed, listening.

“In our world, we handle things like men. Not cowards,” Vino added, voice steady as steel.

Then came the words that made my blood freeze.

“I hear you’ve got a new little plaything,” Michelangelo sneered. “Not your usual escort or stripper. A fashion designer this time. Heard she’s pretty too. What is it with you Jersey bosses and your thing for moolies?”

That racist motherfucker. My fists tightened at my sides and I stepped around the corner.

Vino didn’t meet my gaze; he simply raised a finger. A silent command: Don’t.

Xavier quickly moved into my path like a wall of stone. His head shook slowly. If I moved, he’d carry me out without hesitation.

“You lousy, racist piece of shit,” he growled, his voice shaking with restrained fury. “Say what you want about me, but youdon’tcall her out of her name. Fucking ever.”

Vino’s jaw flexed. “And hear me when I say this. My woman is off limits,” Vino spat.

“Just like your wife, mother, and grandmama.” Vino pointed the sharp butcher knife at the screen. “This is between me and you.”

Michelangelo laughed, cruel and cold. “I don’t live by your silly code, Vino.”

Vino then disconnected the call, letting the knife clatter onto the counter. Turning his back to me, his deep voice echoed, “Fuck,” vibrating off the walls and through me.

I stepped past Xavier and wedged myself between Vino and the counter next to the fridge. My hands rose to cradle his face, forcing him to see me.

“Vino,” I said softly, urgently, “youhaveto calm down.”

His eyes met mine, burning with a fury that was barely leashed. A storm brewing behind those steel-blue eyes. And still, he let me touch him. Let me anchor him.

He lifted his head, then turned to look at his men.

“Xavier, check in with Divy and Lupe. Bring them up to speed on our situation. Also, let them know I’m assigning two more men to help keep an eye on Claire’s family.”

“On it, boss.”

My heart picked up speed. What the fuck? “You have men watching my family. Why?”

“Because that asshole Santon doesn’t play by rules of the mafia. He’ll murder women, children, and innocent bystanders.”

Vino turned to the men gathered at the counter, his voice sharp and precise. “Glacier, Pyro—I’ve got something special lined up for you. I talked to Vincent thirty minutes ago. He’s working over the other asshole responsible for the fire. I’ll let Vincent know you’re coming to pick him up. Take him to Santons and toss that motherfucker over the gate. I want Santons sleep wrecked before morning.”

Pyro chuckled darkly, and moments later, Xavier, Glacier, and Vino all broke into laughter.

“The look on that bastard’s face will be priceless,” Xavier said, still chuckling.

“It will,” Vino agreed with a smirk.

“We’ll handle it,” Glacier confirmed, rising with Pyro, then filing out of the room.

Then Vino’s attention snapped back to me. “Claire, this is your home. Act like it.”

My eyes widened. “That’s easier said than done.”

“It’s not,” he said firmly. “Grab a bottle of wine from the wine refrigerator. I’ll open it.”

“I can open the wine, Vino,” I said, stepping toward it.

He slid an oven mitt down his large hand and opened the oven door, pulling out a bubbling dish halfway. The warm aroma of herbs, cheese, and spices filled the air, wrapping around me like a comforting hug. Dressed down in tan sweatpants and a white t-shirt, he looked surprisingly casual, a stark contrast to the suits he usually wore when I saw him. In this moment, I had forgotten he was a mob boss. He was more like a sexy domestic god.

---