I Sold Out a Mafia Boss

rdo'

eves up to my elbows. My suit jacket is slung over my shoulder, and my

ir, exhaling sharply. "Did

ods. "I

e when movement from the grand

an

. It clings to her curves, highlighting every inch of her body. The sight of her should p

bbing her wrist, and pulling it up to exami

this happen?" I s

ly. I see something in her ey

His smirk is audible. "She must've tried

her to speak. When she finally does, her voice is quiet, but the

you forgot who the fuck owns you now." I rele

say, without lo

nly a second before n

n the way she shifts under my scrutiny. Her eyes shift towards

but firm enough that she knows not to pull away. I bring i

I'll make sure you won't have th

s, but she doesn't speak. I let go of her wrist, wa

et me go?" She asks in a

n't a

your guy. Whatever you think I did, whatever you

he fucking lie!" I yell and the

air, each touch is filled with anger and

me here, and I wanna know wh

. There is a reason I haven'

away. "And what

eyes again. "Normally, what I do to snitches is a lot worse than locking them in a mansion a

th an expression I

ted you. And You sold me out like some fucking-" I exhale sharply, my jaw clenc

aw. "Why put your tr

id I ju

u're right. Why the fuck did I trust a fuckin

something that's almost a smirk. "Why would you think

ed, all girls are the same. Hoe or n

didn't take anything from you." S

peak. Abruptly, I seize a handful of her hair and yank her fa

ll. "My fucking integrity. You made

Her head aches from my grip, but she dares not l

ond reaso

time," I growl, "and

t. I release my hold abruptly and step back, w

oldly and lethally. "And when I do, I'm gonna h

er eyes. Whomever she is protecting, it's either they have s

y phone buzzes in my pocket. I fish it out

get a chance to say anythin

father's com

w, slipping the phone back into my

gnaling my driver. "Take me

the grand, heavily guarded building. Inside, Angelo and José are already s

rough me the moment I walk in. He doesn't say anything at first. But a smirk is plastered on his wrinkled f

pplaudono

my expression neutral. I know better than to

ikeness. They say we should respect the dead, but somehow, the dead have beco

enough," Antonella says,

of attraction. World's sexiest man alive. Egoistic, self-centered bast

g him a feigned amused smirk. "And a g

José. "Gentlemen." I poi

ste time. "You betr

s throat. He know

went to shit, you decided implicating me was your bes

at you're talking about, Mr. Inzaghi. But I would never do such

lams agains

he snaps. "I know wh

rvene. "Mr. Inzaghi, pardon me, but I a

ool, son. It might've even been your calculative id

exchange glances. And we say not