Page 80 of Corrupted Temptation (Mafia Kings: Corrupted 2)

“I don’t think ice cream’s going to do it, hon,” Greta said, hugging me tight. “You sit tight, and I’ll be back in fifteen minutes with an entire liquor store, I promise.”

She swiped her purse off the coffee table and darted out the door.

Greta was probably right. I had little experience with getting drunk, but it didn’t sound like a terrible idea at the moment.

My eyes were red and swollen from crying for the past half hour. My chest hurt from all the heaving and sobbing. I didn’t even know why I was crying. The tears just spilled out of my chest, real chest-wracking sobs. I knew there was a good chance I wasn’t going to see him again after tonight. But if I was being completely one hundred percent I-swear-on-Sofia-Luca’s-fake-grave honest, I nurtured a small bubble of hope for us. To see it burst and by Nico himself with his shiny knife, and his words that tasted like rust on my tongue.

“Because you’ll always be a Luca.”

He could never trust me. He could never sleep soundly at night knowing he was sleeping with his enemy on his bed.?It was some twisted irony that the name that had been stripped from me held so much sway over my life.

I stood in the middle of the room, fidgeting with my phone in my hand. I lifted it and began to scroll through my contacts.

I brought my phone to my ear, waiting as the other line rang, all the while scrambling for what I was actually going to say.

I just wanted to hear his voice, maybe apologize.

“What’s wrong, Raven?” he barked the moment he answered.

I could almost feel his panic coming through the phone in waves.

“Nothing’s wrong,” I said, feeling the tidal wave of guilt crash down on me for what I put him through. I struggled to find the right words, but ultimately, I only needed two.“I’m sorry.”

He was silent for a brief moment. I could hear the way his breathing changed from short and shallow to slow and deep.

“No, I’m sorry,passerotta. It was never my intention to hurt you. I wish I could have told you about your family.”

My insides sagged with relief. Deep down, I knew he didn’t want to hurt me, which made the way I reacted all the more abhorrent.

A knock sounded at the door.

He came back?

My stupid heart started doing cartwheels.

“I’ll have to call you back,” I said, moving to hang up the phone but then putting it back to my ear at the last moment. “I love you,zietto.”

Uncle Vito and I could figure out everything else later.

“I love you too,passerotta,” Vito answered.

Smiling, I hung up the phone, tossed it on the sofa, and crossed the room to answer the door. I turned the handle, anticipating the sight ofhimon the other side.

Then it flew wide open with so much force, it slammed against the wall.

Four men stood in the open doorway. Four men I’d never seen before. All of them taller than me, broader than me, more muscular than me.

I stumbled back as cold terror shot down my spine and surged through my extremities.

There was a tall, gangly man unconscious on the floor in the hallway with a bloody bump on the side of his head, right over the top of his temple. I’d seen him at Onyx, but I knew next to nothing about him.

Like they were one being, the four men stepped forward, crossing the threshold into my room, my space.

I stumbled back another three steps with my heart pounding a staccato beat like the victim in some slasher horror movie before it hit me.

Running is pointless.

Everyone dies inFinal Destination. Jamie Lee Curtis practically gets killed off in ninety percent of her movies. Victims who try to make a run for it either get caught, killed, or something else worse.

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