Page 29 of Mafia Scars

She’d said she loved him like a friend.

Love.

I hadn’t really focused on thelike a friendpart of that answer.

He scowled at me. “You are scum. If you had any decency, you’d leave her alone.”

I stepped right into his personal space, and he tried to stand his ground. “Watch what you say, Brad Sinclaire. You don’t know who you’re talking to and who you’re dealing with.”

“You threatening me?” he balked, and God, he was stupid enough to touch me.

It had to be a cop thing. Cops thought they owned the law because they had the authority to arrest.

Sinclaire shoved me. He was actually stupid enough to do it. Surprise filled his face when I didn’t move. I guessed that move of his was supposed to put me on the floor.

In one swift action, I had him against the wall, the flat of my arm pressing into him, cutting his air off. I could have gone for his chest because I knew he was still wounded, but I didn’t.

“Youscum. The next time you think to put the moves on my girl, I’ll cut your dick off.” Like a worm, he squirmed against me trying to escape.

“Luc!” Amelia wailed, running down the stairs.

Fury made me growl because I wanted to do more to this fucker than just pushing him up against the wall.

“Let him go, Luc.” She rushed up to us and tugged on my arm.

I released him, and he doubled over in fits of coughs.

I looked at her, but she was shaking her head at me. “I told you. I’m a jealous man.”

She rolled her eyes at me, then looked to Sinclaire, who was beginning to adjust himself, then back to me, but I was already going through the door.

Jealous, fury at the situation, the need for her to be mine. That was me.

Through all of that, I didn’t know her true feelings for me.

* * *

Amelia

* * *

Jesus. I thought Luc was going to kill Sinclaire.

I’d just dragged on my dressing gown when I looked out the window and saw Sinclaire coming up the garden path.

My brain had done a quick calculation of what would happen next.

When I heard the loud bang against the door, I knew, I knew that it was Luc who had Sinclaire in some sort of lock and not the other way around.

Here I was, staring after Luc as he walked down the path. The dressing gown was all I had on. If the morning breeze blew too much, the flimsy gown would lift about my thighs, and there would be nothing left to the imagination.

Also, anyone who looked at me could tell that I’d just had wild sex.

And if they couldn’t guess that, they’d see my puckered nipples poking through the soft satin of the fabric.

I looked back to Sinclaire, who was already glaring at me.

He closed the door, robbing me of seeing the last traces of Luc’s descent.