Page 42 of Dirty Mafia King

She rushes toward me and sticks out her hand. “I’m the martian.”

“Who?”

Her nail polish is neon yellow, bold and glaring. Colorful, like her personality. She’s the antithesis of me; a person who thrives on attention.

She snatches my hand and shakes. “He said he told you.”

“Who? Told me what?”

“Renzo. About the Halloween party?” She huffs. “I’m not explaining myself too well, am I?”

No, though she’s said enough to spark my hope. “You know Renzo?”

“Yep. He asked I introduce myself as the martian—guess I should have known better than to listen to a serial rehabber.” With a hasty glance over her shoulder, she continues while my thoughts hurry to catch up. “I’ve five minutes before Freido charges in here and hauls me out, and I’m making a mess of it.”

“Escorts you out?”

Her sigh is Broadway-worthy. “I’m banned from the Beneventi estate.”

NowI’manxiously looking toward the accordion door.

“My vape canister exploded and set a small fire in the East Wing. Sandro’s Halloween party had to be evacuated. He’s convinced I’m a train wreck—his words, not mine. Didn’t mind my adventurous nature in bed—he loved doing all sorts of crazy shit to me.”

Whoa. And wait just a minute. Martian sex with Renzo? Jungle gymnastics with Sandro? She nearly burned Bastian’s home to the ground?

A rumble bubbles up from deep within, like it’s been waiting for the perfect moment to break free. For the first time in weeks, I laugh.

She also cracks up, while gasping, “Renzo was sure we’d hit it off.”

Renzo, my angel with broken black wings.

“I can’t believe you’re living here. Mr. Beneventi’s picky about who he invites over.”

“Unless you’re brunette, redhead, or blond.” I clasp a hand over my mouth, but the words have already escaped, complete with mocking tone.

Her eyebrows rise to the rafters, like I’ve shockedher. When I can recount intimate details about her sex life despite not knowing her name.

“Fucks them like a bull, or so rumor says.”

Lord, I regret mentioning those women. Who or how my father-in-law fucks isn’t my concern.

I feel compelled to warn her. “We should be careful, so let’s not discuss him.”

“Believe me. I get it. My father works for Sebastiano Beneventi. I’ve been around the famiglia my entire life.”

I have a million questions I shouldn’t ask, so instead I land on a safer one. “You mentioned Renzo thought we’d get along. Have you spoken to him?”

“Yep.” She sighs with great exaggeration. “He stole a nurse’s phone to call me. That was the last I heard from him.”

“Can I have that number?” Lord, I’d feel better about everything if I could speak with him. Reassure myself he’s okay. Get reassurance I’ll be okay. I hurry to the kitchen island to retrieve my phone. She reads off the nurse’s number, and I save it to my contacts.

“You’ve been warned, Zoey.” Freido steps through the open door.

“Oh, shit,” she exclaims.

“Hurry. Enter your number.” I toss her my cell before Freido can reach her. I’ve a new friend. Someone who understands this world, and the Beneventi men. Someone who can help me navigate.

She frantically types, and then tosses it back to me just as Freido grabs her arm. His threat rings out. “Jump me again, and you’ll be sorry.”