Page 127 of Dirty Mafia Sinner
So, hedoesknow Alessandro.
“What else would you have me do?” Alessandro snarls. “Hold your hand while the shit you snorted leaves your system? Allow you to bring down the Beneventi empire?”
“I’m not the one who was ambushed.”
Oh no. Wound, meet poking finger. The man is either a fool or the bravest soul on earth.
Alessandro launches at him. After several brutal punches, the boxing match turns into a grappling session as they take it to the floor.
I snatch a vase off a table, dump the contents on the floor, and creep forward until I’m a few feet away. They’re about the same size. Same dark hair. Same tenacity. Alessandro is more muscular, more strategic. His attacker is wild and unpredictable.
“Thank fuck I caught you.” Alessandro flips the man onto his back and pins his arms overhead. “He’s dead.”
“Like you’ll be if you don’t get off me.”
“You listening? Don Lucchese’s dead. Funeral and the vote is in less than a week.”
I can’t see the man’s face or read his reaction. But within seconds he goes completely feral. “You can’t keep me from going.” His fist connects with Alessandro’s side.
Alessandro gets in his face. “Watch me.”
It happens so fast, and I’m completely caught off guard. The man crashes his head into Alessandro’s in a vicious headbutt and flips positions.
Then he produces a gun.
“You fucking froze before,” Alessandro taunts. “Now you’re going to shootme?”
“You hold a grudge like nobody else.”
“You ruined my life,” Alessandro snarls. “Go on. Shoot me. Then you’ll be stepping up instead of shooting up.”
The man’s hand shakes.
“Pussy,” Alessandro gloats.
“You controlling prick. I’m this close to putting you out of your misery.”
Fear moves me closer. Love has me raising the vase to strike.
Alessandro’s eyes snap to mine as I swing. But sensing danger, the man shifts, and I hit him in his upper arm.
The man’s up and on me before the vase crashes to the ground. I’m tackled, my head hitting the tile floor. Gun to my temple, I can only stare up at him.
What? Am I seeing double?
He looks like Alessandro.
“Don’t you fucking hurt her, Renzo.” Never, in all this time, have I heard Alessandro so desperate. So vulnerable. “Hurt her, and I will kill you.”
The stranger and I lock eyes. He’s a mess, a beautiful, wild mess. “Who the hell are you?”
“You’re Alessandro’s twin.”
“Get your filthy hands off her.”
His twin—Renzo—relaxes but keeps the gun to my temple. “Well, this is worth the unexpected brotherly visit. You’ve a pretty sidepiece.”
Alessandro rolls to his feet, his panic subsiding, then shoves Renzo off me.
