Page 155 of Dirty Mafia Torment

“The monster inside him doesn’t frighten me.” My heart pulls, sparking my rage. “My issue is that he’s a goddamn liar.”

Sandro pulls his head back like I punched him.

“If I weren’t so exhausted, I’d plunge a cross through his miserable heart and give Emo some company.”

He looks to Riley. “What the fuck?”

“I’ll explain outside.”

He pins me with a hard stare.

“Despite all this, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

“You’re as bloodthirsty as we are.” Admiration fills his tone.

My heart pinches while I watch him guide Riley away. The overbearing A-hole’s actually kind of sweet.

I close my eyes, tired and ready for this to be over. Afterward, I’ll check the car, that’s hopefully still in the street leading to the church, for my purse. God, please say it is—haven’t I suffered enough for what I did?

Either way, I’m returning to Rome. I’ll pick up where I left off before Renzo fell back into my life.

I’ve earned a redo.

He’s good at giving me nothing, and I’m banking on him leaving me the fuck alone.

A low rumble from behind has heads turning.

Then louder, the dangerous and unmistakable growl of a chain saw as it roars to life.

Renzo steps into view, shirtless, hair messy, and jaw set like stone. He moves down the aisle with a predator’s grace, framed in a kaleidoscope of stained glass light, the antithesis of anything pure and holy.

Every step radiates raw dominance.

Every man sits straighter in his powerful presence.

The darkest part of me is turned on by the monster in the aisle. Curiosity about this violent side of him fueling the slow hum within.

He rakes cold eyes over us, until they lock on me. Dark, assessing, almost daring me to look away.

Heart pounding, I try, but fail, my own battle raging inside.

I inhale sharply, and am met with smoke, mixed with an odd chemical smell …plastic.

My eyes rise.

Emo’s on fire.

Everyone begins talking at once. “Covered that bastard in candle wax.”

“Rubber suit will give before the burn sets in.”

The chain saw growls in warning.

“With the way he’s twisting and turning, my bet’s he’ll soon slide free.”

Emo thrashes, while flames slowly, ever so slowly crawl down the catsuit.

Renzo reaches the end of the aisle, climbs the three steps to the altar, and faces us. With a quick flex of his fingers, the chain saw revs impatiently.