Page 31 of Dirty Mafia King
That’s right, baby. You’ll soon learn how ruthless I can be.
“So you’ll delay my proposal…”
I shake my head. “No time for delays.”
He looks at Alessia, and then Sandro.
“Enjoy rehab, Bro.” Sandro snickers. “Hear heroin withdrawal’s a bitch.”
Alessia glares at him.
I press the buzzer beneath my desk before Renzo opens his mouth, and summon my man, Freido.
“Think this is funny, asshat? I’d pay money to see your expression when he presents the groom to Don Lucchese.” Renzo slaps his twin on the back. “Thanks for stepping in.”
Sandro’s smile disappears. “What are you saying?”
I stand, place both hands on my desk, and lean toward them.
“You’ll marry Sandro…” I lock eyes with Alessia. “…once you prove you’re not a liar.”
Blood drains from her face.
Sandro rises, one fist clenched.
And Renzo sways on his feet, looking like his brother stole his puppy.
As for me? I learned a long time ago that feelings are best suppressed when it comes to famiglia business. A lesson this trio will need to learn to survive.
Sandro escapes the office, brushing by Freido on the way out.
“You bastard.” Renzo shouts at me.
“Five months.”
He sputters, rising up and out of his seat. “You can’t do this.”
“Six.”
Renzo’s attention swings to Freido, knowing what’s coming, yet he still attempts to sprint by my man—who is inescapable. He charges Renzo, tackles him to the floor, then jams a needle into his neck, injecting enough tranquilizer that Renzo won’t wake up until he’s safely locked away in Maine.
Catching Alessia out of the corner of my eye as she races toward them, I stiffen.
“What are you doing to him?” she cries out, then hurls herself at Freido, knocking him off my son.
A shy thing like her.
I didn’t see that coming.
She’d be good for Renzo. If time weren’t an issue, I’d allow their marriage.
Freido raises a hand, prepared to strike.
“No,” I snap.
He immediately stops.
“Alessia. Come here.”
