Page 49 of Roman

Connor’s eyes widened.

“My life?” he asked.

“Don’t find out.”

“I won’t.” He paused. “So, that’s it?” he asked, relief making him stupid. “The rumors of the scary Roman Costas were just that? Rumors?” He blew out a breath. “Kinda funny⁠—”

He never finished his sentence. He screamed as his arm snapped, and I pushed him into the wall, holding him by the throat.

“Don’t push it, boy,” I hissed. “I’m holding back by a thread. Say one more word, and you will not walk out of here. You hear me?”

He nodded, unable to speak with my hand wrapped around his throat. I tightened my grip, my anger getting the better of me. I smashed my fist into the wall by his head, and I held his eyes. “One more squeeze and you’re done. Do we have an understanding?”

He blinked, unable to move or speak. I let him go, and he crumpled to the floor, gasping for air and crying. He wet himself, the scent of the urine hitting me.

I shook my head. “Get your arm fixed. Be grateful it was your left one so you can still work. Be doubly grateful it wasn’t your neck.”

I headed for the door. “Tony will take you to the doctor. Don’t make me regret this.”

I walked past Tony in the hall. His bruising was still evident from the beating he’d taken from me, but he was walking. “Take care of it.”

Aldo’s phone rang as we stepped into the elevator. I was angry. Pissed with myself. Furious for the reason. Goddamn Effie had gotten into my head. It had to stop.

“What?” I snapped as he held the phone from his ear.

“Ben Maverick is here. He wants more credit.”

“Too fucking bad. If he can’t pay tonight, beat the shit out of him and toss him over the Falls.”

Aldo’s eyebrows lifted. “I’ll call you back,” he said into the phone.

He hung up. “May I remind you how much he spends here? How much money you make off him? The yacht you got when he couldn’t pay one time?”

“I don’t give a fuck.”

He shook his head. “Maybe you should come to the casino with me. Find someone to spend some time with.”

I knew what he was saying. Find someone to fuck my frustration out of me.

“Not interested.”

“You want me to call Larry? Have him spar with you?”

“No.”

“You wanna spar with me? We can go a few rounds.”

“I’m going to my suite.”

“In the mood you’re in⁠—”

I cut him off as the door opened. “Fuck off, Aldo. Do your job. Stop playing mother. I don’t fucking need one.”

He didn’t back down. “Maybe Effie should stay in Nonna V’s room.”

“She’s not fucking going anywhere.”

“Is she safe?” he asked quietly.