Page 57 of He Should Be Mine
His eyes narrow.
“Daddy, I thought we were going to play?” Molly pouts.
He doesn’t look at me, but I can see his concern. He is intervening on my behalf, again. Sticking his neck out for me because I am a stupid idiot who can’t control himself. Molly shouldn’t have to defuse a situation between two dangerous men. Even though he is damn good at it.
Riccardo’s shoulders relax. Then his hand moves. He drops the riding crop and reaches for the gun holster on his hip. I don’t have my weapon on me, so there is not a thing I can do.
He draws and points his gun straight at my forehead. The safety is still on, but the message is clear.
Molly gasps. A small sound of absolute horror. He’s English, he’s probably never seen a gun let alone had any training. He doesn’t know the safety is on.
“Don’t challenge me again, Soldato.”
I stare into his eyes. He is angry. High on drugs. Prideful. Hungry for dominance. Possibly showing off in front of Molly like a spoiled child. But I can’t see anything else. Nobody has told him anything. He suspects nothing. He has no idea that I’m going to destroy him. He is just an asshole.
“Understood,” I say.
His upper lip curls in a snarl, but he puts his gun back in its holster. Slamming it in with far more force than is necessary. Molly flashes me a worried look and my heart shatters into a thousand pieces.
Riccardo grabs Molly’s arm. He drags him to the bedroom and shoves him inside. The door slams. A tiny piece of plaster falls from the wall.
I can’t move. I can’t breathe. Every muscle I possess has constricted into place. My eyes are the only things that are working and they are fixed on Molly’s door. I’m glaring at the thin plywood as if the force of my stare can burn it down. It’s the only thing between me and Molly.
One flimsy piece of wood, and an entire web of obligations, loyalty, threats and danger. I can’t see them, but there are a thousand armed men between me and Molly right now.
My blunt nails bite into the palms of my hands. The pinpricks of pain are enough to get my body to move. My heavy legs manage to take me over to the sofa where my headphones are already waiting. I wasn’t completely unprepared for tonight.
I put the headphones on. And I wait.
Time screeches to a halt. Each second drips out slowly. Heavy and viscous. Thicker than tar and just as difficult to get through.
After ten minutes that pass more slowly than all the years I have lived, I can’t bear it anymore. I yank off my headphones.
The sounds hit me immediately. Pained whimpers. Choking. The rhythmic creak of bedsprings.
My heart flings itself against my ribcage hard enough to bruise. I’m on my feet again, with my pulse racing, and nothing to do.
Nothing has changed since ten minutes ago.
I still can’t burst in there and kill Riccardo, because that would only feel like saving Molly. It would be an illusion. A temporary reprieve. There is nowhere to run that the Ajello family can’t find.
We’d be hunted down. Caught and given to Dante. An example would have to be made. It would have to be. Killing the Ajello heir makes them look weak and the moment the Ajello family looks weak, all their enemies will pounce.
Lives would depend on torturing Molly so thoroughly that a clear message is sent and nobody ever even dreams of lifting a finger against the Ajello family ever again.
They’d torture me too, but I don’t give a crap about that. If that was the only risk, I wouldn’t hesitate long enough to blink.
Molly is the only one I care about.
My stomach twists in a knot. Cold sweat trickles down my spine.
I have to wait. Riccardo has to fall from grace first. The pieces of the chessboard need to move. Once he is no longer the heir, and I am… then I can kill him. Kill him and take Molly. Make him mine, as he was always meant to be.
A cry sounds out, jagged and sharp. It ricochets off the walls and the fragmented echoes hit me in the gut. I run to the kitchen sink and lean over it. I heave, but nothing comes up.
What if he is murdering Molly right now?
All my clever plans could be meaningless.
