Page 88 of Mafia Toy

“I want to hear it out of your fucking mouth,” he said, the vein in his neck pulsing violently against his skin. He clenched his fists and shook his head, tearing his gaze away from me. “Because as soon as you say her name, I am taking Sage and leaving.”

“You-you’re gonna leave me?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

Pain rushed through my body as tears raced down my cheeks. This wasn’t really happening, was it? Maybe I was just hallucinating from seeing all that blood. My husband really, truly thought that I wouldn’t choose him?

And this was all my fault. I had made him—madethem—feel this way.

“Choose,” he snapped, this time much harsher.

I stared at him and shook my head. No matter what name I said, I would hurt someone. And part of me believed that if I said his name, he wouldn’t believe me anyway. He wouldn’t care. He was fuming right now.

But I swallowed my pride, my pity, my cries.

“Constantino …” I whispered.

After impatiently waiting for a few moments, he twirled around and stalked toward the door, smashing my little broken heart into tiny little pieces. Constantino had never walked out on me in all the years we had been together. We always talked through our problems, never went to bed angry with each other.

“Wait!” I exclaimed. “Please don’t go.”

But he continued forward until he reached the door. When he grasped the handle, my heart sank even further in my chest. I ran forward so he wouldn’t leave me here alone, so he would know that no matter what happened in this world, I would always choose him.

“I choose you, Constantino,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around his torso and resting my forehead against his hard chest. “I don’t know why you would even ask that. I will always choose you.”

Unlike usual, he didn’t wrap his arms around my body to comfort me. Instead, he stood like a statue in front of me and stared down coldly at me.

I stared up and furrowed my brow, chest tightening even more. “Please, don’t leave me.”

“Get your hands off me.”

“Constantino …”

“Your choice should’ve been instant,” he growled, shaking me off him and stepping back. “You should always choose your husband. We promised ourselves to each other the day we married. Do you remember your fucking vows, Laila?”

“Of course I do,” I whispered, stepping forward. “But—”

“No fucking buts,” he snapped.

“You’re not giving me a chance to explain myself,” I whispered.

“You don’t get any more chances.”

“You know what happened to me.”

Constantino gritted his teeth. “Stop using that as a fucking excuse to be weak, Laila. We’ve all had shit happen to us. We all go through shit. You’re supposed to learn from it and know when to be better.”

“It’s not an excuse,” I cried. “I-I’m trying. But how am I supposed to react when someone walks into my house, nearly dead?! This is how I would react if you had tortured anyone the way that you tortured her!”

“Bullshit,” he growled. “You know the monster you married.”

“Please,” I whispered, not even sure why I was pleading with him. What was I asking for? For him not to leave? He wouldn’t do that to me. He wouldn’t ditch me. Deep down underneath the monster he chose to be, he was a good man.

A really good man.

“If you really choose me—chooseus—prove it,” he said.

“Prove it?” I asked. “How? How do you want me to prove it to you?”

He ran his tongue across his lower lip. “Kill Bethany.”

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