Page 12 of Dangerous Games

My gut clenches at the thought of Enzo being in her space. That’s not fucking happening.

“I got it. It’s not out of my way. I’m at the pizzeria the most, anyway.”

I’m met with silence. I grow uneasy with each moment that passes. So much so that I take the phone away from my ear to look at the screen to make sure he didn’t hang up.

“You sure?” Matteo asks. There’s something in his voice I don’t like.

“Not sure I like your tone.”

“I wouldn’t have this tone if I didn’t know you as well as I do.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I ask defensively through clenched teeth, already knowing what direction this is heading in.

“You want her.”

It’s not a question.

“Never said that,” I tell him. I’m lying through my fucking teeth.

“You didn’t need to. Enzo told me you stocked her fridge. That’s all I needed to know.”

Fucking Enzo and his loud-ass mouth. He couldn’t keep something to himself if his life depended on it.

“I was trying to make sure she didn’t talk.”

“That’s what the money is for. No more special favors, Gio. I mean it. If I find out something more is going on past the drops, you and I will be having words.”

“Got it, boss,” I bite out before Matteo hangs up.

I throw my phone down on the couch as I walk over to the bar cart I have up against the wall. I flip the rocks glass over as I grab a blue umbrella out of the container, ironically the same color as Bronwyn’s eyes, before I fill it full of whiskey.

Any other night, a whiskey with an umbrella would take the edge off, but not tonight. Tonight, I have a war going on inside my head. And the head downstairs is the one that wants to win. But I can’t do that to my family. Loyalty is what keeps us tight and going. Mixing business with pleasure is never a good idea, especially when said business saw me with a goddamn severed hand.

Using my finger to push the umbrella up against the side of the glass, I down the brown liquid, welcoming the burn it brings, hoping it will numb the ache in my cock.

I sigh heavily and lick my lips as I set the glass down.

I’m fucked.

I pull my Maybach into my spot right outside the pizzeria as I watch the car that’s been following me for the last six or so blocks pull in behind me. After the first few blocks, I thought it was a coincidence, but after the fourth, I knew it was anything but. They’re not here for pizza considering it doesn’t open for another hour.

I adjust my rearview mirror, angling it so I can get a good look at who is in the car. He’s not someone I recognize, and no one in my circle would roll around without windows tinted so dark you can’t even see the outline of whoever is inside.

Never been one not to face shit head-on, I throw open my door. By the time I have one foot on the sidewalk, they’re stepping out as well.

“You an Adduci?” the guy asks as he adjusts his suit jacket that he’s swimming in.

Who in this city doesn’t know who the fuck I am?

I already know this guy has no idea what he’s walking into. The ones who know what’s going on are dressed for the part, new in this life or not. And having a suit that looks like it used to be your old man’s, who was four sizes bigger than you, doesn’t give I have authority here. In fact, it doesn’t give anything at all except I know I’m probably going to wipe the floor with you.

“I think you already know the answer to that, or else you wouldn’t have followed me here,” I answer, my voice even as I shut my car door and lean up against it as I tuck my hands in my pockets.

I take him in. His fists are balled at his waist and his neck is strained. Every time he swallows, the tiny tendon on the side of his neck gives me a tease as it bulges, just begging for me to do something about it. I know it would be a beauty to slice open and watch him bleed out all over the sidewalk.

Too bad we’re in front of the pizzeria. The last thing I need is for Bronwyn to witness something else at my hands.

“Was it you?” he asks, his tone demanding. His fists are clenched so tight they’re turning white as he tries to disguise the trembling.