Page 77 of Bossy Ex's Brother

“The traitorous rat. He knew where you were this entire time,” I spat.

“I told him not to say anything,” Lorenzo said.

“And why the fuck would he listen to you?” Unless this was a scheme that they both hatched to take me down and take over my place.

“Because we had the same goal,” Lorenzo answered. “To protect you.”

Like I was a fucking damsel in distress. “Fucking unbelievable.” His explanation didn’t cool my anger. Instead, it magnified it. I was going to kill Brandon once I got home.

And the bastard little brother even had the nerve to smile.

“You’re not invulnerable, you know,” he said. “Yeah, you’re really strong and really smart and really lucky, but you would have been dead by now if it weren’t for us.”

“So I suppose I should thank you for stealing from me?” I snarled. “For ripping Ma’s heart out and making her hate me?”

His smile died, and his eyes showed his misery. “No. That part…I’m sorry. But I had to do it. I had to bring something to the Morettis so they would take me in.”

I shook my head in disbelief. There was so much I wanted to say to my brother. And I still wanted to hit him very badly. But right now, there were more things that we had to deal with.

“Take me to Don Filippo,” I commanded.

Don Filippo wasin his study.

As Lorenzo and I approached, the men standing guard eyed us suspiciously, but none of them stopped us, not until we got to the front of his study.

One of them instantly whipped out a gun from his holster and pointed it right at my head, hatred in his eyes.

“Stop,” Lorenzo said, stepping into the line of the bullet. I shoved the asshole out of the way because I wasn’t a pussy who needed my little brother to fight my battles.

I walked forward, letting the end of the gun rest right against my forehead.

“You hate me, don’t you?” I said. “You want to kill me?”

He said nothing and simply cocked the gun.

“Well, you’re welcome to,” I said. “In fact, I’ll allow you to torture me as long as you want. Right after you release my woman.”

The man’s eyes flared in surprise, and he frowned like I’d said something unexpected.

Lorenzo walked forward, holding the gun. He shook his head at the man. “Let him see the boss.”

“What’s going on?” came the voice from inside. The door opened, and I was staring face to face with Don Filippo, a man of average height with a face that looked about ten years older than his 60 years.

He blinked at me in surprise. Rather than looking angry or hateful, what I saw was the same bone-deep weariness I felt.

“What the fuck do you want?” he asked. “Are you insane, coming here? Do you have a death wish or something?”

“I want my woman back.”

“I don’t fucking take women,” he scoffed. “I fight all my battles with men.”

I frowned because I got the sense that he was telling the truth. He wasn’t ordering his men to shoot me on sight. He wasn’t making any demands either, and he didn’t look to be enjoying this interaction any more than I did. Something did not sit right. They wouldn’t lie if they’d taken her. No, they would gloat and rub it in my face.

Which meant they didn’t have her.

So who the fuck did?

And then it hit me like a freight.

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