Page 38 of Revenge on the Mafia

“So why is she mad?”

“She’s not.” I sank down into the chair at the head of the table. My eye twitched. Fucking Stefano had walked inside the kitchen, completely out of my sight. If I increase it to four-point five percent, it could be six hundred and seventy-five.

“So?”

“I have another maid.”

“What’s wrong with her? Do I need to scare her into doing her fucking job?”

“Sul serio,” Daria muttered.

I was off the chair. Six steps in the direction of the kitchen.

“Get the fuck out of there.”

I felt the burn of both stares from the table. I was a man of limited capacity. I couldn’t hold my patience with both my brothers. One was trying to get into Anna’s fuchsia panties, and the other was itching to put his gun to her face. What the fuck had I been thinking? I needed to hide this girl from my brothers.

“What?” I growled at them.

Daria shook her head hurriedly, dropping her gaze to her lap.

“Interesting,” Enzo murmured.

Good. I was going to give him a show because my asshole younger brother needed a hearing aid. I counted the wooden planks toward the kitchen. My gaze fixated on the idiot leaning on the counter. Anna was moving around the stove, her cheeks aflame. I didn’t care to know if it was from anger or embarrassment or something else entirely. None of it should be seen by my fucking brother. Grabbing him by the collar of his t-shirt, I yanked him away.

He didn’t even have the audacity to be surprised. “You’re showing your true colors, Nico.”

“I’ll show you something else entirely if you don’t fucking move. Go and sit at the fucking table. Now.”

“Jesus.” He held up his hands, a smirk on his lips that I so badly wanted to split open with my fist. “You could have asked.”

“I did.”

“I’ll see you in there, Anna.” She stared at both of us, her lips tight. “I can’t wait to taste those.” He had better be referring to the food. But he was gone before I could ask him, leaving me alone with her.

There was something about Anna and me in a room alone. It must have been the tension of eleven years of need. Everything slowed down. Pressure built against my chest. Each movement was a hot fire that sizzled in my veins. Each blink, swallow, and glance. What I needed to do was move, but what I did was stay. Wooden spoon in hand, dripping salsa into the pot, she watched me with a hatred that burned as much as the salsa she was about to serve.

The annoying buzz of my brother’s voice filled the background. I suddenly wanted to shove them all out the door, put her on the counter, and lick the salsa from her body.

Can’t do that. I took a deep breath. Even breathing fucking hurt when she was within my reach. “You told him your name,” I said through clenched teeth.

“That’s what you do when someone asks for it.” Her tone bit into the thick tension in the room.

“Shouldn’t have.”

“I don’t need you to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do.”

The kitchen block and six feet between us. “Look at it this way. When you put an end to me, mia piccola assassina, he’s going to know your details.”

Her mouth popped open. Anger shifted to confusion.

“He’s going to look for you, and he’s going to come for you. Believe me when I say this, you don’t want that.” Her face flamed, heat rising up her throat. I wanted to tug her to me and taste it on my tongue. “Learn this fucking lesson. You want to end me? You get to do that. But you stay away from my fucking brothers if you want to survive it.” Turning around, I pushed the swing-door and walked away.

Outrageous Spanish words followed me out of the room. Her spark was back and fuck if it wasn’t hot. If I hadn’t moved, I would have put her on the kitchen counter and had my way. And she had no idea what eleven years of frustration felt like when it was unleashed.

When I walked back to the table, Stefano’s attention had shifted. Enzo had chucked his coat on the back of the chair. His tie was undone again, and the two top buttons of his dress shirt too. His wife had four buttons undone in the back of her dress. Lucky for her, she had thirty-four quarter-inch buttons left for him to get through. Which I wanted to cut through with one slice of the knife on the side of my plate when she asked me innocently, “Why is she mad again?”

The attention in the room turned my way. Just when I thought they’d mind their fucking business.