Page 26 of Dirty Mafia King

Renzo’s lost his mind. But this might work … It has to work.

“I’ll ask to handle the Beneventi business in Italy—my godfather would love that. We can live in Rome. You can go to school. We’ll make it work, Angel. You’ll see.” He pauses as doubt fills his tone. “Ready?”

Ready to face Sebastiano Beneventi?

No.

No. No. No. No. No.

CHAPTER9

ALESSIA

Ruthless. Terrifying.Vindictive.Sebastiano Beneventi is this and more.

What heisn’tis father-in-law material.

Mr. Beneventi entered his office moments ago, his formidable presence setting us on edge. The air’s thinned. The room temperature swings like a pendulum, from air-conditioning cold to furious, capo-fueled hot. I feel his gaze rake over me as he walks around the desk, yet I don’t … can’t … make eye contact.

“We’re asking permission to marry.” Renzo gets straight to the point. He’s seated next to me in a chair in front of his father’s desk, holding my hand in reassurance and trying not to lose his nerve.

“You. And Alessia.”

He remembers my name.

“Don Lucchese is going to love her.” Renzo squeezes my hand. “We’ve a solution to our other problem, as well.”

“That right?” Mr. Beneventi’s whiskey-raw rasp makes my body tingle and my mind go places it shouldn’t.Puoi avere qualsiasi modo si desidera—you can have it any way you want.

No, you can’t. Remember who Sebastiano Beneventi is, or you won’t survive this.

“Lessie will tell you.”

An awkward silence spreads.

“Look at me.”

My eyes snap up at Mr. Beneventi’s command. Our eyes lock, and I’m helpless to do anything but stare into deep, blue eyes accentuated by long ink-stained lashes. Hard, calculating eyes that miss nothing.

I pray he doesn’t remember me.

“Drink?”

Renzo responds. “It’s fucking nine in the morning—”

“Okay,” I interrupt.

Mr. Beneventi moves to the bar behind his desk as Renzo shakes his head at me. I’m surprised his father hasn’t commented on his appearance. Renzo looks better than he did last night but he’s still pale and jittery.

His father returns with a bottle of imported whiskey and two crystal glasses. Silently, he pours a drink for me, which he slides across his desk before serving himself. He’s even more handsome up close. Hair a bit too long, with a lock curling into his face. Sharp cheekbones. A nose slightly bent at the ridge like it’s been broken a time or two. The sprinkle of five o’clock shadow on his jawline. And his lips … his full, plump lips…

My hand shakes too much to drink, so I leave the whiskey on the desk.

Blue eyes pierce into my own. I can’t read him, and don’t know how to react. Does he recognize me? Surely, he’d say something if he did?

“A picture of innocence, aren’t you?”

“Stop fucking with her.” Renzo sits up taller in his seat. “Lessie’s not like her sister.”