Page 30 of Mafia Betrayal

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” he asked.

I punched him hard in the arm. What was wrong with him? All I ever wanted was to go out on jobs for Dad and help the family, and all everyone wanted was for me to shut up and look pretty, pretend I wasn’t hurting on the inside.

The blonde didn’t say a word to me the entire time she drove us to his house. Instead, she looked back at me a few times, her gaze lingering longer than I would’ve liked. I rested my head back against the window, trying hard not to cry from the pain. If I had gone by myself, if Alessandro hadn’t come, we wouldn’t be in this mess.

Every moment, I was stuck in this god-awful car with this woman, whose perfume actually smelled good but was caked on too much, my vision blurred more and more. I could barely feel my calf, even with the immense pain. I tried hard to focus on the rain running down the car window and found my eyes closing softly.

“Reginetta, keep your eyes open,” he said.

I fluttered my eyes and groaned. I felt like I was going in and out of consciousness, not really thinking straight. I took a deep breath and rested my head back against the window. Words started tumbling out of my mouth, words I could barely hear or comprehend myself.

“The only place you can order me around,asshole, is in bed,” I said. And then I passed out.

* * *

I woke up hours later, being carried into an apartment that I hadn’t been to before. The woman hurried into one of the hallways to search for something. I didn’t know how much blood I’d lost, but I could see Alessandro’s perfect fucking face as his brows furrowed, and there was some tension in it.

His gray eyes were searching the apartment, and I brushed my fingers against his jaw. Something about him was so … so different. I didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was my severe lack of blood making me think this man was attractive.

But his skin felt good under my fingers, and I inhaled his scent and rested my head on his shoulder, trying hard to keep my eyes open. When he looked down at me, he muttered something in Italian that I didn’t understand and finally set me on the couch, propping my leg up on the white suede.

“B-but … it’s going to get it bloody,” I said, barely able to tilt my head up from my lying position to watch all my blood drip out. It was too difficult to even move at this point.

I tried to push myself up, but he pushed me back down.

“No,” he said.

The woman came back over with some medical supplies, and I assumed she wasn’t Alessandro’s secret lover but a medic he had kept secret from the family. We had a doctor who could treat us—Ray—but … I guessed Alessandro needed his own. For whatever reason.

She spoke in Italian to Alessandro, and I sat there, trying to decipher what she was saying. I stared up at him, watching his neutral expression as he nodded and stared down at my wound.

“The bullet went into your calf muscle. No major arteries were hit. You’re being dramatic,reginetta.” He looked down at me with the smallest smirk on his face.

And I had the urge to hit him for calling me dramatic, but instead, I let out a low, guttural belly laugh. I clutched my stomach, the pain only making me hurt worse, but I couldn’t stop laughing. Maybe it was how this whole thing was unbelievable … or that while I had been shot, now bleeding profusely and totally shirtless … I felt better than I had felt in a long time.

Alessandro’s lips curled into a genuine smile, and my heart warmed at the mere sight.

19

chiara

The woman wrappedmy leg in gauze, gave me a bottle of painkillers, said a few more words to Alessandro, and walked right out of the apartment, leaving us alone. He lingered by my side.

“Alessandro …” I said.

He raised a brow and took off his suit jacket, which had been ruined. “First-name basis,reginetta?Nostronzothis time?” He tossed his jacket onto his ruined white couch below my legs and rested my gun just out of reach on the side table.

“Do you want me to call youstronzo?” I asked.

“I kind of like it,” he said, eyes darkening. “I like my women feisty.”

“Who ever said I was your woman?”

“You did earlier with youryou only get to order me around in the bedroomcomment.”

He leaned down beside me, knowing that I was unable to move a fucking inch from him and brushed his fingers down the center of my bare chest, trailing them over my cleavage in my lacy black bra. Goose bumps rose on my skin, and I shivered.

“Is that how you like to be fucked?”

---