Page 15 of The Mafia Enforcer's Temptation

Cheatin’ Chad, a special sort of lowlife, a fencer who doesn’t ask questions and will rob you blind if you let him, is closing his hands over two rings, a tennis bracelet, and an old locket.

I’m no jeweler, but I can hazard a guess that the jewels resting under his fat, grubby hands are worth upward of a hundred grand. He puts down a twenty-dollar bill.

I look around. No one else is back here. Just my pretty kissing nemesis and Chad. Neither one has noticed me. I toss back my drink and wait, hand on my gun.

The girl’s not happy. “No fucking way. A deal’s a deal. You?—”

“I owe you nothing. You promised me a treasure chest. This is a pittance,” he says, grinning at her, his grill catching the light.

“You owe me more than twenty.” She’s vibrating with what I can only assume is fury.

“Take it,” the guy says to her. “Or leave it.” Then he grabs back the twenty and grins. “Yeah, just leave it.”

His hand remains on the jewels.

The music is low back here and I close the door.

They both look at me.

The girl with a mix of ire and hate, and him with surprise.

She glares at me.

He’s focused on my gun.

I move closer. “Cough up the money, Chad.”

The guy’s a goddamn idiot. He doesn’t recognize who or what he’s dealing with. When we came to Manhattan, we did our research on all the players who might be useful and those to keep away from, and this one? He’s a definite no go.

And, as I said, an idiot.

Because he pulls a gun.

So I shoot him. Right between the eyes.

The girl doesn’t scream. She just lunges for the jewels and then dives into his pocket for the money. Then she turns and she’s pried the gun from his hand and is in the middle of pointing it at me.

I’m man enough to admit it makes me hard as fuck.

“Now, what part of me shooting this asshole dead makes you think you won’t meet the same fate as him if you don’t put that fucking gun down?” I ask.

She doesn’t move.

“Two options,” I say. “Put it down so you and I can talk. Or keep pointing it at me and I shoot you dead. Which one is it gonna be, sweet thing?”

FOUR

ava

I don’t wantto put the gun down. I want to shoot him in the fucking face. But if I do that, then I won’t be able to get to Seamus because the Murphy family will close ranks and hunt me down.

As much as I’m appalled that I never put together who this man was when he tackled me to the ground… because the familial resemblance is so damn strong… this isn’t the Murphy I want dead.

Killing him would be like an honorable mention. But I want the gold medal.

Besides, he might be better with a gun than me, and the longer we stand here, the more of a chance there is that someone might come in.

I hesitate.