Inked By The Mafia Man - Page 11

Gianna sneers. “Was that your plan? But, of course, he’ll still have you. He might just treat you a little rougher, that’s all. You haven’t achieved anything.”

She turns away again.

Tears bead in my eyes, stinging and unfair. I don’t want to feel like a helpless little kid anymore.

“Why do you hate me?” I yell.

She pauses with her hand on the door, not looking at me.

“I don’t hate you. The truth is, Lena, I don’t feel much of anything about you. Or anybody. This is business. That’s what I learned growing up in this life around these sorts of people. Everything is always business. I need money. I deserve a life.”

“And you’re willing to sell mine to get it.”

“Yes, I am. Are we done?”

Without waiting for a response, she leaves the room, slamming the door behind her.

I leap to my feet, grabbing my pillow, and throwing it at the door. It feels so useless.

I want to rage, to break things, but then Jackson whines and trots to the end of the bed.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, sitting and pulling him into my lap. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He huffs and nuzzles my hand, flopping onto his side and wriggling around, trying to comfort me.

“I love you, boy,” I tell him. “I promise, whatever happens, I won’t let anybody hurt you.”

Sometimes when Jackson looks at me with his head tilted, his eyes wide, I’m certain he’s going to speak. I actually believed it when I was younger – maybe I was a really immature teenager – but now I know it’s a crazy dream.

But sometimes, like now, I imagine him telling me he loves me. He’ll never let anybody hurt me either.

Maybe it’s my need for a protector, somebody to shield me from all the pain and heartache of this cruel mob life.

What if Luca could be that man? My protector. What if he saves me?

I swallow a painful lump, reminding myself not to let my hopes flare too brightly.

He could’ve been lying to make me feel better. Or, if he’s telling the truth, there’s a very real chance the deal might not work.

Conor wants me for his own sick reasons. As if he’s conquering the Bonetti name.

Staring down at my leg, I look again at the bird in flight tattoo.

I imagine I have its wings, that I can spread them and fly away.

But I wouldn’t disappear over the horizon.

I’d fly to wherever Luca is, feel his lips again, feel his powerful hands on my body, feel wanted, safe, and happier than I ever have…or maybe I ever will.

“Time to sleep, boy,” I whisper, cuddling up next to Jackson.

It’s almost laughable.

I know I’m not going to be able to sleep or even want to.

That will only bring me closer to my wedding day.

CHAPTER

SEVEN

Luca

My thoughts are filled with nothing but Lena.

I find it difficult to focus for the rest of the night and then the next morning. Working out seems pointless.

Hefting the weights, sweat streaming down my body and making my shirt stick to me, I go through the motions.

I make myself do it because that’s what a man does.

He forces himself to do things he might not want, knowing it’s the right thing, knowing it’s his duty.

Just like keeping the city safe, keeping the darker aspects of the mob life at bay is my duty.

Still, when my cellphone rings and I see Patton’s name, I grab it quickly and swipe to answer, smearing the screen with sweat.

“Yes?” I snap. My voice is as taut as my body, as tight as my nerves.

She’s in my head, even now, the way she smiled down at me as I brought the tattoo gun to her ankle. It was the type of smile I’ve never shared with a person, not born from obedience or fear or nervousness, just…just us, me and my woman.

If it wasn’t for her aunt’s sick game with her beloved dog, if it wasn’t for the guards, she’d be with me now.

I try to remember why I’m not risking it, the lives of my men or their families.

But it all seems to pale in comparison to my woman.

“Yes?” I repeat.

“Sorry,” Patton says, voice crackling. “Was in a tunnel. Can you hear me?”

“Yeah.”

“The meeting’s set,” he says. “But boss, Luca…are you sure you want to do this? You know how Conor is, how petty that bastard can be. If he thinks you want to steal the Bonetti girl away from him –.”

“Her name is Lena.” My fists are tight, my knuckles feeling like they might burst through my skin. “She’s not just some girl.”

Patton pauses as though there are lots he wants to say. I know he’s never heard me like this before.

He’s heard me angry on a few occasions, mostly when I was younger and hadn’t learned to conceal my emotions, but never like this, never this fierce.

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