Page 76 of Dirty Mafia Torment

Still relentless.

Still so fucking beautiful the cheek she didn’t slap aches.

Joining Dante for dinner and clueing her in that I recognized her was a bad idea. It’s better she remain under the illusion I completelyabandoned her. Dark days are behind both of us. Why stir up shit? And if my father discovers she’s in Rome, whether it’s my doing or not, I’m not just cooked but deep-fried.

But when I caught sight of her lingering by the club, fucking waiting for me, I couldn’t help myself.

We played a game of hide-and-seek for most of the day.

Every city block, every step of the way, I made sure she found me. We practically locked eyes in Santa Maria della Vittoria. Did she really think I wouldn’t recognize her hiding beneath that scarf?

But standing at the nun’s feet, staring up at that little bastard angel looming over her and ready to pierce her heart, it hit home. Fina holds the arrow and has already driven it into my chest.

And hell knows, I love a little pain mixed with pleasure.

Fina’s always understood my kinks. Craves a taste of that world herself. I had a vision, while we stood at Saint Teresa’s feet, of forcing Fina onto the cold marble floor and worshiping her with my mouth until her ecstasy rivaled the nun’s. Fuck the audience. They wanted to see a woman in the throes of an orgasm? Fina would come so hard, she’d forget every promise I shattered.

A throat clears behind me, and my attention snaps to my office door.

Dante stands there, watching in silence.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“No one expects you to be an angel, you know.”

Is Dante a goddamn mindreader now? “Yeah, an angel who’d jab a spear through your heart.”

“No booze. No drugs. Are you even getting laid?”

I toss the phone I was scrolling through onto the desk. “You sound like my therapist.”

He chuckles. “Your therapist wants you to get laid?”

I smirk, letting him draw his own conclusions. But the truth is, since that visit, sex has been me and my fist. I, a man with an anything-goes mentality and voracious appetites, have relegated himself to good, old-fashionedjerk-offs.

Now how the fuck did that happen?

“Maybe I used the wrong choice of words,” he continues, crossing the room to take a seat. “An angel doesn’t saw heads off men.”

“You, of all people, should know, “ I murmur, “light can kill just as fast as darkness.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

“Did you want something besides the pleasure of my company?” I ask.

Dante grows serious. “Yeah. Can you add or extend surveillance on our warehouses, particularly those near the port? Some fuckhead set fire to a lucrative weapons shipment.”

I stare at him thoughtfully. “That makes no sense. Why torch arms when you can steal them and sell them on the black market?”

“Don’t know. And after the example you just set, who would dare pull a stunt like this?”

“Right.”

“Got to be a family in the Cosa Nostra. Makes sense considering how the violence is escalating.”

“Right again,” I add. “I’ll need to expand my team and order additional equipment.”

“Do it.” He stands. “Your father said to give you whatever you need.” With that, he straightens his suit and stalks to the door. But he turns my way, with one more thing to add.