Page 102 of The Mafia Enforcer's Temptation
There’s still a beat of violence in my blood, the need to harm every single fuck at that club who looked at her wrong, looked at her with lust, said vile things to her. I want to hurt the men who tried to hurt her in the little courtyard garden outside the Romanov townhouse.
But instead, I suck on her clit through her panties, using the lace as added friction that makes her arch up, and I thrust two fingers into her. I make it cruel, a slow burn designed to stoke her fires to a certain level, to get her closer to the brink so Ican make her come apart. Her breathing starts to change, body writhing uncontrollably.
Then I stop.
And it’s one of the hardest things I’ll ever do.
“You need to start being honest,” I say.
“I’m being honest,” she snaps, trying to kick me as I scoot away. “You have everything of mine. My bratva’s future is in your hands.”
“Remember that.”
I start for the door. If I stay here, I’ll fuck her senseless. And I want her aching, a mess, needing me.
“Give me my crest.”
“Maybe if you start being honest.”
And with that, I actually leave, heading down to continue working on my bike. Once there, I lose myself in it.
I don’t know what time it is when Arnold starts barking like crazy as a car’s tires squeal and the front door slams.
I race out, my gun in my hand.
A shadow moves under the tree right outside our townhouse.
Holding something in its hand.
TWENTY-FOUR
ava
I repeatthe license plate number to myself as I sink onto the ground next to a tree.
It’s not so that I remember it. My memory’s excellent and I’m always able to recall things like numbers. It’s the reason I could get into Iosif’s safe without issue.
No, I do it so I don’t give in to the murderous rage coursing through me.
I carefully open the bloodied pillowcase, hating the fact that a couple of the tiny bodies inside are cold.
Arnold and the cat bound over to me. They both pull at the fabric case, and with gritted teeth, I have to dig through the dead animals inside to carefully pull out the warm ones.
There are only two.
A small floofy thing, a little caramel-colored puppy that shivers on my lap as Arnold prods him with his nose, and a small kitten.
I swallow past the huge lump in my throat as noise erupts around me. Even the cat is taking interest, sniffing them and reaching out with his paw. For a moment I expect claws, but he has them retracted even though his fur’s on end. Arnold growls when he lifts his head, barking twice before he licks at the puppy.
My eyes burn.
Behind me Declan says, “Put yer gun away, Seamus.”
“Sweet thing, what…? Fuck.” Seamus appears, kneeling down next to me. He picks up the puppy gently in one big hand. “Get the car, Cal.”
Oh hell, this family. I don’t know what to do. I didn’t have any clue what to make of them at dinner, when they were loud and loving and not at all the monstrous people I’ve been trying to paint them as in my mind.
I know they’re not.
