Page 25 of Dirty Mafia King
“Hunted!” The room swirls. I steady myself with both hands. “What?” I squeak. My throat’s too tight for anything more.
“Just say yes.”
“Yes.”
Quicker than I believe him capable of in his condition, he snatches my hand. But this time what follows floors me.
A ring. Made from a biodegradable paper straw.
Renzo slipped it on my finger.
“Marry me.”
Shock isn’t the right word to describe my reaction. My mother’s cancer diagnosis was shocking. Father’s emotional abandonment caught Sienna and me unprepared. Hell, the worst mindfuck, up until Renzo’s proposal, was discovering the star hero in my wicked fantasies is really the villain of my worst nightmare.
“You said yes.”
“Yes. To marrying you?”
He nods. “My godfather’s expecting a wedding. A Beneventi son marrying Governor Amato’s daughter. The old man won’t give two shits which son or which daughter. It’s the perfect solution.”
“You love someone else,” I murmur.
He stills. “Doesn’t matter. She’s off-limits. Her father will kill me if I’m caught anywhere near her. And if he doesn’t, mine will.” He stares at a second ring he’s made then crumpled and tossed on the table. “Besides, the last time we hooked up, she told me to fuck off afterward.”
“But you still love her.”
“I’m incapable of love. All I offer is pain.” His beautiful blue eyes are troubled, his damaged soul struggling with demons no one but he can fix.
My heart breaks, and guilt consumes me. How can I expect him to help me when he clearly needs help himself? “I’m not your concern.” I attempt a smile. “I’ll figure something out.”
“He’ll kill your father, Lessie.” He snaps a finger. “Just like that. Marrying me is the only solution.”
I frown in confusion. “Your father’s furious over my father’s disloyalty … and my sister’s video. My marrying you won’t change that.”
He leans in. “What if I told you I’ve the perfect way for your father to get back in my old man’s good graces?”
“How?” I whisper.
“He’s going to ruin Emilio Conti’s sports gambling franchise.”
I can’t believe I’m suddenly entertaining Renzo’s idea, though what choice do I have? Lord, his father should be thrilled by that. “What does my father have to do?”
Renzo smirks. “Rumor has it that Conti’s laundering money for Bible Belt Benny through his venues. As chairman of the East Coast Gaming Commission, your father can close operations while an investigation is underway.”
“IsConti laundering money?”
“Who isn’t?”
I stifle a gasp.
He stands and then sways on his feet. “Come on. We should hurry.”
“What? Where?”
“To Providence. To approach my father before he sends men to New York.”
I’m frozen in my seat. Like the sticky remnants of a sugary drink hold me in place.
