Page 50 of Dirty Mafia Sinner

Like I’m some gullible stranzo who might believe her act.

I glare, livid. So livid I’m tempted to pull the knife, instead of a bone, from my desk drawer and carve the word into her skin using all caps. Along with a few other choice words. Liar. Traitor. Mine.

Mine, to torment.

Mine, to make pay.

She shakes her head, faking confusion. “Were you in a fight?”

I’m over the hundred-and-fucking-one questions. I want her locked up, and the key thrown away. I tap her beneath the chin with the soft plastic bone. “Fetch.”

Her gasp fills the room. “What?”

I hurl the bone across the room. It hits the wall with a loud whack then tumbles to the floor.

“Pick it up with your mouth,” I instruct, tone flat and words ice-cold. “Then crawl your ass over here and get inside the cage.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Dead serious,” I growl. “Keep questioning me and you’ll end up inside a basement dungeon where no one will remember you long enough to fall for your innocent act.”

Where gorgeous green eyes and flushed pink cheeks will get her nowhere.

“Innocent act?” she asks, a vision of innocence.

“You’ve ten seconds. Fetch the bone like an animal and return with it to your new home … One…”

“My new home? You’re locking me in a cage?”

“Two, three, four.”

Eyes bright with tears, she stares at me like I betrayedher.

“You want to live? Be a good dog and do what you’re told.”

I’ve reached the point where I hope she’ll disobey me. Loyalty and respect—my men, my staff, my fuckdolls, every goddamn person around me exhibits in spades. I’m nothing without it, and God knows I’ve earned it. How dare she think I’ll tolerate anything else? She should be dead by now. Why prolong the inevitable?

She comes up on all fours, and my eyes narrow. Her body is thinner than the last time I had her naked. Her back arches, breasts swaying as she crawls, tears leaving a trail across my expensive carpet as she crawls to the bone.

Fuck.

I palm my erection, and nearly bust my seams when she turns. Her, with the bone in her mouth. Her, back arched and beautiful. She stops at my feet and looks, first at my hand and then at my face.

Rage resurfaces and blurs my vision as I drop my hand and point. “Welcome home.”

She flinches, but then obeys. Crawling inside, turning, and dropping the bone.

I slam the gate shut and click the lock into place. Done. So fucking done.

“Alessandro…” she pleads. My real name off her lips was all I could think about for weeks.

“Never say my name, capisci?”

She jerks backward like I slapped her.

Unable to look at her any longer, I stalk over to my window and glare at the yachts sailing along on the horizon. I’ve got shit to do, two men to hunt down, and a father to outsmart. Distractions, especially ones that plead so sweetly, are a mistake I won’t make twice.

I risked it all for pussy.