Page 59 of The Temptation
“And what are you going to do about it if I do?”
“I’ll fuck you up,” she growls.
Her words have me rearing back because I’m used to her sass, and although he may be her brother-in-law, he’s the Don of ourFamiglia, and that alone deserves respect.
I hold my breath, unsure of what to do, but then Dante does something unexpected; he throws his head back and bursts out laughing.
The sound is loud, raw, and unnerving. It echoes off the walls, but Lucia doesn’t flinch. She sits there with her small hands gripping the edge of the table so hard her knuckles have turned white.
Her clenched jaw is tight as her eyes burn into him. She’s got some balls, that’s for sure. I’ve seen grown men pale in his presence.
“You remind me so much of Arabella when you’re feisty,” Dante says, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.
Lucia doesn’t soften. “You didn’t answer the question.”
Dante sobers instantly, and the weight of his authority settles back into his posture like armour. “He disrespected the chain of command, Luc. He made a call that wasn’t his to make. That comes with consequences.”
She leaps to her feet. “Then you’ll need to punish me too.”
“Lucia—” I start, but she cuts me off with a glare.
Dante watches us both in silence. It’s only for a moment, but it feels like an eternity.
I’ve seen this man at his best and worst. Most days, Dante Mancini is jovial, carefree, and kind, but when he’s mad, he’s unpredictable. He’s calculated, cold, and terrifying.
He exhales and pushes back his chair, reaching across the table to snatch up the missing person flyer before folding it in half and shoving it into his pocket.
He taps his knuckles on the table, points a finger in my direction, and says, “Don’t do it again,” before striding out of the room.
A few seconds later, I hear the front door close behind him. It’s only then that I release the breath I didn’t realise I was holding. Because, despite how much theFamiglia—and my position as underboss—mean to me, there’s no way I could’ve stood by and let him punish Lucia without retaliating.
I sit on the edge of my bed, staring at the pile of flyers one of my men dropped off earlier. They were collected locally and beyond, and although we’ve turned this townupside down trying to find Salvatori and his men, I’m surprised we missed these.
There’s a storm brewing in my head because I can’t shake those two words printed in large bold letters:my wife. They’re stuck in my head like a brand.
The truth is, I’ve got this messed-up sense of ownership when it comes to Lucia Rossi. I know it’s not right. She’s not mine, and maybe she never will be, but the fact that this psychopath thinks she’s his is haunting me.
I got a call from Dante last night. I knew when he left here yesterday that it wasn’t the end. He simply didn’t want to get into it with Lucia present.
After a few choice words and another warning, he moved straight back to business. He wanted to hash out our next move.
We talked about calling the number on the flyer, hoping it might lead us to one of Giuseppe’s men, if not the bastard himself. It’s a long shot, but every lead we’ve had so far has led to a dead end, so this may be our only chance to get something concrete.
As long as he’s still out there, Lucia’s not safe. The fact that we haven’t caught him yet says a lot. He’s smarter than we gave him credit for.
A missing person flyer might not seem like a masterstroke, or a move the Cosa Nostra would typically make, but that reward is enough to get people talking.
I want to think we’re one step ahead, but after all this time, he’s still managed to elude us, so maybe we’re not ahead at all. He’s playing the long game, and playing it well.
I drop the flyers to the floor by my feet and flop back onto the mattress, burying the heels of my palms into my eye sockets. The unknown makes me anxious. I’ve lived a lifetime of uncertainty, so you’d think I’d be used to it by now. But I’m not.
Sitting here and not being able to be actively involved is slowly sending me stir-crazy. I know that looking after Lucia is more important, but I can’t handle doing nothing.
That’s when an idea hits me. It’s reckless, maybe even selfish, but the thought won’t let go. What if I marry Lucia before Giuseppe can?
I could lock her into something safe, at least safer than whatever twisted plans he has for her. It’s not about possession, not really. It’s about protection. Well, that’s what I’m telling myself.
I slide my phone out of my pocket, but instead of dialling the one person I should be calling—my boss, the person I’d need to get permission from—I scroll through my contacts until I find the number I’m searching for.
