Page 5 of Untamed
But Jesus, what an utter douchebag.
I give him a firm smile. “I’m sure. When would you like me to start?”
“Tonight? You could have dinner with us. Theodora’s entire wing is empty if you need a place to stay?” The little brat gets a wing to herself, and he just gave me the green light into it. This is perfect; I couldn’t have planned it better myself, but I mask my excitement.
“I’ll be having visitors over. Vetted, obviously,” I say, leaving no room for argument.
“Of course.” He waves his hand around. Jesus, does the old bastard really not care about her at all? I’d probably feel sorry for her if she were anyone else, but I don’t give a shit. His uncaring attitude just gives me the green light to become her worst nightmare.
I push out of my chair, and he follows suit, then I hold my hand out toward him. “Six-thirty tonight.”
Relief floods his features, and a jovial smile encompasses his face, then he shakes my hand with vigor. “Marvelous.” The old bastard can’t wait to leave, and who can blame him? His daughter is a brat, and his wife is a cheating bitch.
I head toward the door, eager to pull the tie that feels like it’s suffocating me from around my neck. Then I turn my head over my shoulder. “Oh, and Ford?”
“Yes?”
“I’ll be moving in tonight.” I hold his stare, reaffirming my demand, and he nods frantically, so eager to please me.
I have the fuckers right where I want them. Now all I need to do is get their little princess where I want her—beneath me.
CHAPTER THREE
MASSIO
“So, let me get this straight, you’ve been away for months on a fucking ranch in bumfuck nowhere, playing house with Vinny and his family, and now you’re going to be shacked up at your ex-wife’s home, babysitting her brat?” Sal seethes as he paces the room.
“So much for coming home. You’re moving out again,” Zane snaps, and I purse my lips to keep my response in check. I want to tell him we don’t, nor would we ever, live together again, but I know damn well he’s referring to the fact they’re barely going to see me, at least not while I play “house” with little Theodora Jennings.
Zane is the older of the four of us, and while we’re not blood brothers, we are, most definitely, brothers, and him being the oldest in a Mafia family constitutes respect on a higher level. He will, after all, take over Sal’s position when the old bastard decides to retire.
I swear he’s trying to last longer than Vinny did just to get one up on him.
While we’re all of Italian descent, Jensen and I have more bronzed skin like our mothers than the usual olive skin you’d expect from an Italian origin. Miko and Zane are stereotypical Italian-looking Mafia men, with black hair and equally dark eyes. Zane plays the Italian Mafia boss perfectly, with his slicked-back hair, whereas Miko’s hair has a wave to it, and he allows it to be messy, which is a stark contrast to his well-put together self.
“I take it you have a plan of revenge in all of this…” Miko makes a rolling motion with his hand as he lazes back in his chair. “Scenario you’ve landed yourself in.” Of all my brothers, he’s by far the most cunning. The quietest and, some would say, most deadly. His unusual tendencies have a certain appeal to his clientele, and while it should be concerning, it’s brought with it a wealth of knowledge and currency. He lifts a calculated eyebrow, and I give him a swift nod, which relaxes his shoulders.
“I want you at dinner every other Sunday. You’ve missed far too many.” Sal stops his pacing and fixes me with a dark stare, and I open my mouth to tell him that won’t be possible. “No excuses,” he bites out.
Zane adjusts his cufflinks. “Are you at least coming over to see your niece and nephew? They probably won’t recognize you; you’ve been gone for so long.”
Jesus, who would have thought my oldest brother would turn out to be so damn needy.
Miko rolls his eyes, and I try but fail epically at not smiling at his antics.
I guess I do need to make up for lost time though, and I can’t remember the last time I saw the kids. “Are they home from boarding school?”
“Home?” Zane snipes and pushes out of his chair. I rear back, and Miko pinches the bridge of his nose.
It appears I’ve missed something.
“They were thrown out of fucking boarding school. Six months ago, Massio.”
I choke on a chuckle because the twins have always been a handful, though Zane has always refused to see it. “Jesus,” I blow out, pushing a hand through my cropped hair.
It appears I’ve missed a lot, actually.
A sardonic smile sits on Zane’s face. “Exactly. You’ve missed a lot. Now you need to make up for it.”
