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“It makes sense for you to have her do the dirty work since Del Rossa men are known to lack goddamn spines.”
Fury lights up every inch of my body, and before I can even think, my fist connects with Nunzio’s jaw. He falls back, this time clutching his nose. So I lean over him, bringing my face so close to his so he can smell the hatred on my breath. “The only reason I’m not cutting out your tongue right now is because my wife wants to hear you scream while you beg for death.”
A car comes to a screeching stop, the headlights casting looming shadows across the streets.
Caelian leaps out of the car, the ignition still on, and rushes toward us. “If you two fuckers leave me behind again, I will personally shove spark plugs up your pee-holes. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Maximo keeps his gun aimed at Nunzio. “Someone had to stay behind and call for backup.”
“That’s me. I’m the fucking backup.” Caelian stops abruptly by the corpse of the man who got sniped right between the eyes. “I see Davian made it in time.”
“Barely.”
Another SUV pulls up, both Alexius and Isaia getting out of the car. “Is everyone okay?” Alexius stomps closer, his gaze sweeping across the scene.
“Everyone’s fine.” I glance at the two dead bodies and an injured Nunzio. “Well, those who matter.”
“Mira, you okay?” He walks up to her and pulls her in for a hug.
“I’m okay,” she says against his chest.
Alexius leans back, scanning her for injuries. “The baby okay?”
That’s when Mira’s eyes meet mine. I give a light nod, and she smiles. “There is no baby.”
ChapterSeventeen
MIRA
The night she told him…
“Mira, baby.” He takes my chin between his fingers, forcing me to look at him. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s something we need to talk about.”
“I’m listening,” he says softly, cupping my face in his hands and searching my eyes for a hint.
I swallow hard, my heart pounding inside my throat. I know my husband. I’m painfully aware of what my husband’s reaction will be. But I have to say it. I have to tell him and make him understand.
“Mira, what’s going on?”
I shift beneath him, and he rolls to the side as I step out of bed, pulling my red silk robe around my shoulders. “I need you to promise me you won’t freak out.”
His brows slant inward. “When have I ever freaked out?”
I scowl at him. “Do you need me to make a list?”
“Name one time I freaked out,” he challenges as he props himself up against the tufted headboard.
“Let’s see, there’s the day you found out I’m not a virgin.”
“I’m still going to do that, you know.”
“Do what?”
“Kill Tomniso.”
“You mean Tomasso.”
