Page 125 of Toxic

"And more confidence in the sons you raised," Gianni mutters.

"Shut up," I warn, pissed he can't seem to keep his comments to himself.

"Get out of my office—both of you," Papà orders.

Gianni and I shuffle out, heading toward the gym. Sean arrived right before Papà called us into his office. I instructed him to warm up with Massimo and Tristano. When Gianni and I are almost there and out of earshot, I push him against the wall.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he barks, pushing back at me.

I jab him in the chest. "Papà's right. You're out of control. If you lose access to the club, we're fucked. And for what? A woman who wants nothing to do with you?"

He scoffs. "Says the man who obsessed over a married woman for years."

"Shut up. Don't you ever talk about her," I warn.

He shrugs out of my hold. "Stay out of my business."

I spin him around. "This is my business. And you're putting it in jeopardy. We're already in the hot seat for shooting up the club. If we didn't destroy the video footage, we would be screwed."

"Yeah, well, Arianna marrying an O'Malley has its benefits. I'll remember to contact Declan to hack into the system the next time I do something against Papà's orders." He turns back and yanks open the door to the gym, signaling the end of our conversation. This isn't something I can speak of in front of Sean, nor would I.

For several moments, I don't go inside. My time with Sean is important to me. The last thing I want to do is bring my toxic shit with Gianni into our sessions. When I feel calmer, I go into the gym.

Massimo is holding pads while Sean punches them. I watch for several minutes, proud of how quickly he's adjusted his form. He's a quick learner and listens to what we tell him. I figured he'd do well, knowing how good of a fighter his father was, and his uncles, too. It's in his blood, but he's surpassed my expectations.

I clap hard several times and pat him on the shoulder when Massimo tells him to break. "You're killing it."

He grins, catching his breath. I tug his gloves off, and he pulls his shirt up and wipes his face on it. "Thanks. Did you talk to my mom about the fight?"

I shake my head. "Not yet. I'll discuss it with her later today."

"Why don't we skip asking her and just do it? She won't even know," he states.

I smack him on the head.

"What the fuck, Dante!" he cries out.

I cross my arms. "You know the rules. Remember what I'm about to make you do the next time disobeying or sneaking behind your mother's back crosses your mind."

He looks at me in question when I don't finish. "What are you making me do?"

"Go clean the gym toilet."

He snorts. "Funny."

"I'm not joking. Get your ass in the bathroom and clean the toilet. If it's not lickable when you finish, I'll find another one in the house for you to clean next," I tell him.

His eyes widen. "You're serious?"

"Yep. Go now. Cleaning products are under the sink." I nod toward the bathroom.

He doesn't move.

"You better start trotting, or I'm going to take a shit first," Tristano calls out.

"Assholes," Sean mutters, shoving past me.

I call after him, "You don't disrespect your mother. We've been through this too many times to count. Lying and hiding things from her is something a boy would do. Be a man in the future."

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