Page 25 of The Mafia Enforcer's Temptation

“Papi…” Claudetta clicks her tongue.

I can’t risk Romanov being taken out. I can’t risk Tatiana’s well-being. She’s so fucking young.

Growing up away from me in Iosif’s care is better than not at all.

He won’t hurt her. And since he cared for Elena, he cares for her kid.

And if we kill this Murphy… what about Seamus? How will I get to him?

I won’t let Seamus live. I will kill him, no matter what.

Then again, I could get close to Seamus by using this one. Convince him I need help? That… what… we should date?

I suck in a breath. Because what the fuck am I thinking? Convince him how? I don’t like the unconscious man, and he doesn’t like me.

Our chemistry might be off the charts, but it’s all trauma and adrenaline-generated. It doesn’t count.

None of this counts.

I should by rights let Onyx kill him.

Except he says “we” but he means me. Because he’s holding out the piece of wood.

I take it.

“He has no idea who hit him,” I say. “No idea anyone else is here but me. Go. I’ll let you know if I get that info.”

Onyx nods and steps back, then goes to Claudetta and drags her out.

The building settles around us.

Me and the unconscious Murphy.

The blood thunders in my veins and I stand over him, willing myself to calm the fuck down enough so I can think properly.

I pull my phone from my bag and check it out. The screen’s cracked in a shatter pattern, but it still works. There are four missed calls from… I squint. Iosif.

That sends a jolt through me.

This man here on the dirty ground… Fuck, he hasn’t moved.

I nudge him with the toe of my sneaker, but he doesn’t respond. I still have his knife, and I kneel down next to him, gingerly checking his pulse.

It’s there. Strong.

“Fucker.”

I swallow the rush of relief.

If I’m going down for killing a Murphy, I need to make it count.

I reach into his jacket and pull out his gun, shoving it into my bag.

Then I stare at him. In the low light, even unconscious, he’s fucking gorgeous.

I run a hand over his chest, lingering on his thrumming heart, the vibrations heavy against my fingers. He’s warm. Alive. I trace down over his flat abdomen and down farther over his cock.

My eyes pop open wide. Jesus, he’s big, even while soft. My breath hitches as I trace the piercings. I think he might have them on both sides.