Page 95 of Ruthless Mafia Boss 3: Vino and Claire

He ignored me.

I turned my attention to the driver. “Amadeo, where are we going?”

“Claire,” he warned.

I wasn’t ready to return to that house. Were they taking me back because Vino was leaving town? Why not wait until tomorrow when he was actually gone? Truthfully, I couldn’t face him yet. I couldn’t bear to see his eyes filled with the pain I’d caused by going to the abortion clinic.

We passed through the New Jersey E-ZPass toll lanes. Damn, they were taking me to Vino’s.

My expression twisted in disbelief when I read the sign saying welcome to Newark. I let out a sigh, guessing we were headed to another safe house while he was away. Tall trees lined the streets of the suburban neighborhood. Had Vino purchased another property here in Newark?

Amadeo stopped the SUV in front of large black wrought-iron gates. A man with a rifle hidden inside his suit jacket approached us.

“Amadeo and Renato, working for Vino Romano. His fiancée, Claire, is in the back seat,” Amadeo announced. The man nodded and let us through.

“I’m not ready to die,” I exclaimed.

“Why would Vino invite me to dinner if he planned to have me killed?”

The gates swung open, and Amadeo shook his head as he drove towards the mansion.

“No, one’s whacking the boss’s woman,” Renato reassured me.

My heart pounded in my chest. I was still new to this world and had told their boss he was delusional if he thought we were getting married. Was he about to have me eliminated?

Amadeo parked the SUV, and Renato stepped out to open my door.

“I’m not getting out,” I protested.

The front doors opened, revealing a man in red-lensed aviators and a light gray suit.

“Good evening, Claire,” he greeted with a charming smile, showing off his perfect teeth. The man was undeniably handsome.

He extended his hand. “I’m Dillon Magarelli.”

With hesitation, I placed my hand in his. “Nice to meet you?”

I quickly withdrew my hand.

“Is something wrong?” he inquired.

“She thinks she’s here to be killed,” Renato explained.

Dillon laughed. “I’m not harming my friend’s woman. Come inside.”

His tone left no room for objection. He helped me out of the SUV.

We entered the house. “Please pardon the mess. We’re renovating,” he said.

There were drape cloths covering the furniture in the sitting room to my left.

My smile wavered.

Dillon said, “You’re here because you’re about to become the Donna of the Romano family.”

“I told Vino I wasn’t marrying him,” I insisted.

Dillon burst out laughing. “That’s funny.”

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