Page 83 of Born into Mayhem
The ex-fuck is still standing where Dario left her, eyes wide and disbelief written all over her face. She’s still looking at me like I’m trash beneath her designer heels, so I smile and hold my hand out.
“I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Mia, Dario’s wife.”
She gawks at me, and if she’d showed me even just a tiny sliver of kindness, I would’ve returned it, but since she’s being a bitch, I don’t bother playing nice. I wrap an arm around Dario’s waist and rest my hand on his chest while I smile over at her.
“Dario’s never mentioned you.” I give a soft laugh and smile up at his gorgeous face. He winks down at me and rests his hand back on my hip in that same possessive grip that I’ve quickly come to love. “I have been keeping him pretty busy, though,” I admit with another laugh.
“You have,amore mio,” he says. “My mouth’s been very busy but not with talking.”
The woman, whatever the hell her name is, mutters something in Italian and then storms out of the room.
“Chasing people away already, Dario?”
We both turn at the man’s voice, and I can tell by the way Dario’s body stiffens and his fingers dig a little harder into my hip that I’m staring at the don of the Fontana family. He takes a step closer, but he makes no move to kiss Dario’s cheeks, and I know the man beside me well enough to know he’d rather die than be the first to lean in for thatnicety.
“Leonardo,” Dario says, not bothering to give him the title of don, and I see the man’s jaw tighten at the obvious snub.
Leonardo isn’t at all what I’ve been expecting. I just assumed he’d be older, but he looks like he’s around the same age as Dario, and I’d never peg him as a mafia don. He’s good looking in a run-of-the-mill kind of way, but there’s something about him that’s off-putting. He has dark hair and eyes like Dario, but aside from those superficial similarities, the two men are nothing alike. The very air around Dario always feels like it’s charged with power, but Leonardo doesn’t naturally project that kind of authority. He knows it, so he overcompensates for it by trying too hard to look the part he thinks he’s supposed to be playing.
Turning his attention to me, he makes no attempt to hide the slow perusal he gives my body, and when he lingers on my nipple piercings, Dario tightens his grip on me and pulls me closer so at least one boob is smooshed against his chest and hidden from view.
Leonardo gives a soft laugh. “You always did like them a little wild, if I remember correctly.”
I take a lesson from my brother and school my features into a perfect mask, refusing to let this bastard know his comment stung.
“Careful,” Dario warns, and his tone cuts as deep as a knife.
For a split second, Leonardo lets his hatred show, and the animosity and jealousy in his gaze takes me by surprise. This man is running on pure rage, and my pretend husband is at the very center of it.
I feel a presence step in close behind us, and I know it’s Sandro without even having to look. Sasha knows not to show his face yet. If Leonardo sees him and finds out he’s my brother, then I highly doubt he’ll ever come after me. Most people have enough self-preservation to not go against him. I know he’s watching, though, and I know if Leonardo tried something, between the three of them he’d be dead before he could hurt me.
Leonardo looks between the two Alessi brothers while the crowd around us gives a cautious berth in case someone draws a weapon. The tension is palpable, but Leonardo finally gets his shit together. He adjusts the collar of his shirt, probably finding it hard to breathepast his anger, and then turns his attention back to me. He doesn’t say anything, but the wink he gives me is enough.
Dario’s entire body stills, and I dig my fingers into his waist and keep my hand pressed against his chest. I know it won’t keep him in place, but it’s a reminder that we’re here for a reason, and we’ve just accomplished it.
He looks down at me, and his dark eyes immediately soften. Leaning closer, he whispers, “I can’t believe I’m going to let that bastard near you,amore mio.”
“Just think how much you’ll enjoy watching me stab him,” I say.
His look makes it clear he doesn’t like my plan. “You’re not going to need to, because I’m going to take him out as soon as he comes for you.”
Turning me, he says something to his brother in Italian and then starts to lead me from the room. Sandro gives me a playful wink, and when I walk past, he says just loud enough for me to hear, “My brother looks pissed. You’re in for some fun.”
I have just enough time for a quickhuhbefore Dario is pulling me from the room and out into the hall. He ignores the looks we’re getting, leading me further into the house until I have to finally say, “I’m about to fall on my ass, Dario. Slow down!”
He doesn’t, he just hooks his forearm under my ass so he can lift me up and carry me the rest of the way.
“What the hell are you doing?” I whisper-shout as we turn another corner, and then he’s carrying me into a room that’s all glass and domed ceilings and potted plants. It’s the first room I’ve seen in this place that I actually like, but Dario doesn’t give me a chance to admire it. Before I can even look around, he’s putting me back on my feet and pressing me into a dark corner.
“What are you doing?” I ask again, but he’s too busy pulling up my dress like a man possessed. I cup his face, forcing his eyes on mine, and the crazed look in his has me leaning in while I caress his stubbled cheek with my thumb. “What’s wrong?”
He groans and rests his forehead against mine. “I can’t do this,” he admits. “I can’t let him get close to you.”
“Yes, you can.” Reaching down, I grab his hand and start to slide it up my dress again. “You can and you will, Dario.”
His forehead rolls along mine as he shakes his head. “I can’t do it,amore mio. Please don’t ask me to.”
I grip his hand tighter, sliding it further up my inner thigh until his fingers are pressed against my bare, soaking wet pussy. He groans when he feels me, when he realizes how badly I want and need him.
