Page 13

PSYCHO

I’m not surprised by much, but this absolutely floors me. I didn’t know her father had worked for our family, so that’s interesting, but it’s the manner of death that has me raising a brow. That’s not something we would do. Kage was the first in our family to decapitate anyone, I’m fairly certain. Sending a message like that to a family isn’t our way. If he worked for our family, they aren’t a rival family, so it doesn’t make sense for my father to do this. In a mafia war, anything goes, but this? No, she’s wrong.

I run my knife through my beard as I think. The Bonetti brothers all kill in their own ways, but my father was not into torture, he was quick, and to the point. The only time he tormented someone was for information. He was not one to send messages like she’s suggesting. It was not his style to leave a child to find her father that way.

“What makes you think that was our family?”

She shakes her head, like I’m an idiot, when, if one of us is an idiot, it sure as fuck is not me.

“He worked for you. It had to be you, well, not you personally, but your father.”

I gaze down at my lost little lamb, as I realize making her hate herself has just gotten a lot easier. When she realizes what she has done, for fucking nothing, the devastation will be visible to the naked eye. I almost feel bad for her. Almost.

“You came after my family, and brought this on yourself, when it wasn’t us that did this to your father. It’s not something my father would’ve done. If he thought your father had done something, yes, he would’ve been killed. I guarantee you, torturing an innocent family isn’t how he would’ve handled it. Perhaps another family may have done this, because he worked for us, but this wouldn’t have been our doing. Lorenzo Bonetti would never have done this. Instead, he likely paid for your father’s funeral.”

That’s our way. We take care of our men, and unfortunately shit like this happens, but not at our hands. If, for some reason, my father had wanted to decapitate him, he would have. Leaving the evidence for his child to find? Not a fucking chance. Contrary to what my little lamb thinks, we are not vile monsters. Don’t get me wrong, we are bad men, and we do bad things, but we leave children the fuck out of it. And the women too, unless, of course, they’re like Anastasia, and have come for us. There are families that would do this shit, but we’ve never seen the point of it. A mafia man should be powerful on his own, without the need to wave his dick around.

A tear rolls down her cheek, and it’s simply beautiful, but confusing.

“You don’t cry when I cut you, but now you do.”

It’s not really a question, but more of a statement. An observation.

“Do you think you’re the first man to torture me, Massimo?”

I arch an eyebrow in surprise, at her using my given name. It’s different, and confuses me. My mother is the only one that calls me that, ever. Bones has never even done that when he’s pissed at me. He has with my brothers, but not me. Although it might be coming, since I’ve been ignoring his repeated phone calls.

“Who else has tortured you, little lamb?”

She shakes her head, refusing to answer my question. I allow it for now, mostly because I don’t actually give a fuck. Judging her decision-making skills, she likely deserved it.

“It’s my turn.”

I smirk at her and nod.

“Very well. Ask your burning question, ADA.”

“Were you in my house?”

I’m more than a little surprised at her question. I thought the first thing she wanted to know would be about my family.

“I was.”

Her eyes widen in response, like she’s shocked I would do such a thing.

“So it was you that, umm, finished on my bed.”

“Cum, little lamb. You can say the word. Yes, it was my cum on your bed. Until you set it on fire like a goddamn pyro. I should also let you know your little evidence bag won’t accomplish anything.”

She shakes her head in disgust, like she has never seen semen before, which can’t possibly be the case. This woman is fucking gorgeous, and I’m sure, without even asking, she’s had many men chasing after her. Why that thought pisses me off, I have no goddamn idea.

“Why would you do that?”

I chuckle, as I drag my hand down my face, remembering watching her anger flare, as she doused her own fucking bed in gasoline.

“I wanted to rattle you. I wanted you to know I was watching you. While I didn’t know you’d go crazy, and set your bed on fire, I’m not sorry. It was hot.”

Arching an eyebrow, I grin at her, which seems to only unsettle her further, as her eyes grow ferocious and narrow at me.

“I’m not talking about the fire. Lunatic looks good on you, little lamb.”

She scoffs, as she looks at me like she’s better than me, and it pisses me off. It’s at that moment that I decide I’m going to torment this girl. I knew that already, but now it’s going to be far more prolonged. The desire to mark every inch of her, knowing how angry it will make her, is intense.

“My turn. Who tortured you before me?”

I allow my eyes to scan her delicious naked body, only looking into her eyes when she speaks her answer.

“Carlo, my ex-husband.”

My irritation grows that I didn’t know this piece of information, that’s not hard to find. How the fuck does she have a husband I didn’t know about?

“I did a background check on you. Marriage records are public records, so explain how I did not find this information?”

Grinding my teeth, I can feel my pulse quicken, as my nostrils flare. How the fuck did I find so little on her?

She scowls at me, dismissing my goddamn question, and bites, “That’s two questions. I answered yours. It’s my turn.”

It’s easy for a woman to be a brat under normal circumstances. This woman is tied to a cross, naked, with dried blood on her body, and still giving an attitude, and it excites me far more than I care to admit. Much like the goddamn picture in her house, there’s a familiarity with her, but it’s something I can’t place. Maybe I saw her in one of our clubs at some point, because the name does not ring a bell. It’s that odd feeling that you’ve seen someone before, maybe in another lifetime, because I know if I saw her, I would have fucked her. Anastasia is not the kind of woman you fuck and forget. You remember it.

I nod in agreement, and wait for her to ask her next question.

“How have you never been convicted of any crimes?”

I flash her a grin, because it amuses me that she really doesn’t know. On one hand, I think maybe she’s terrible at her job, but on the other, I know people in the DA’s office would be tight-lipped about my family, certainly to a new person. After all, it’s literally their skin on the line, if people start talking, and causing headaches for us.

“I assume you aren’t asking about me specifically, but my family. Nearly every person in law enforcement is in our pocket. We own them all. The Chief, your boss, all of them. Those we can’t control usually die. If they’re a liability, they can’t exist.”

“Easton,” she gasps in surprise.

I nod and continue, “He has a drug problem, and has gotten himself into trouble with the Juarez Cartel. We’ve bailed him out more than once, in exchange for his cooperation. I supply him with cocaine, and he does whatever the fuck I need him to.”

“I was getting the information I needed, and planned to hand it over to him. What would’ve happened?”

It’s not her turn anymore, but I decide to answer her question anyway.

“He would have brought you to me, and I would’ve killed you. There was no chance you wouldn’t have ended up in my basement. The second you decided to go after my family, your fate was sealed.”

Swallowing hard, she says, “I don’t want to die,” in a small, broken voice. I might feel bad for her, if she hadn’t done this to herself. The information she thought she had on my family was all wrong. She wanted to destroy us for killing her father, and I’m certain we didn’t even have a hand in it. So she has sacrificed her life for nothing.

Stepping closer to her, I place my hand on her chin, and hold her face in a tight grip, while once again dragging my knife down her stomach.

“You did this, little lamb. Surely you knew the danger of coming after a mafia family. We kill people, you knew that, but you came for us anyway. One woman will never take the Bonetti Brothers down, yet you tried. We have killed for far less, and I will end your life. The only question is, what will you do to prolong it?”

Her hazel eyes stare into mine, and I can’t help but notice the golden circle around them, reminding me of a fucking halo, but this woman is no angel. She’s the fucking devil, yet I can’t help myself with this delicious body made for sin. I’m going to have it again.

“Anything,” she whispers.

“Anything,” I repeat with a grin on my face, as ideas pop into my mind. If she sees the wheels turning in my brain, I can promise, it’s not what she thinks. Anastasia thinks she’s going to get fucked again, and I suppose she will be. Literally and figuratively.