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“I know where Emilio Conti is hiding.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
I’m in love with a monster.
Mafioso Alessandro Beneventi. One-night stand. A corrupter of dreams. Mine.
Within days, Emilio Conti was “dealt with.” I hope God forgives me for telling Sandro where to find him. Sandro flew to Mexico City himself. The worm didn’t stand a chance. But people like Conti … Ciro … my father’s girlfriend … deserve what they get.
I’m still worried I lost Sandro’s trust. With him just returning, we’ve barely spoken. I woke in his arms early this morning while he carried me into his bedroom. “You’re in here now, capisci?” is all he said, before sliding into me and fucking me like a man possessed.
Mama Biello’s bright smile as she enters the kitchen interrupts my thoughts. “Grazie per essere stata gentile con me,” I clumsily say.
She beams at me. “Grazie per amare il mio ragazzo.”
“Si. Si,” I reply as she releases me from a bear hug, then gestures at my breakfast plate. “Mangia, ragazza dolce.”
She leaves to run errands.
“Your Italian is impressive.”
I jump and turn in Renzo’s direction. “I’ve just started lessons.”
He tosses his ankle monitor onto the counter and slides onto the stool next to me.
I stare at it, then at him. “How did you remove it?”
With a broad grin, he produces a shiny object from his pocket.
“A key?”
“I had it made after the first time he pulled this bullshit.”
“The first time. How many have there been?”
“Lost count. It’s Sandro’s way of helping me with my bad habits. But I’m not ready to give them up … yet.” He grabs my hand and wraps it in his palm. “They say if you love someone, you should set them free. But just in case …”
I curl my fingers around the key. For such a small thing, the weight of it is significant.
“Your choice. Remain with him or run.”
Heat creeps into my cheeks. How can I explain to Renzo that his brother will always catch me? That I like it when he does?
I snatch Renzo’s hand and pass the key back to him.
“Ah. I get it.”
“Do you?” I murmur. Because I can’t explain how Sandro can so easily tap into this submissive part of me.
“We’re twins. Trust me, I get it.”
I relax. “Is it wrong to feel this urgent desire to please him? What does that say about me?” There. I said it. I admitted the truth.
“That you, Riley, are certifiably fucked.” He chuckles. “But why deny your true nature? God knows, we Beneventi have our vices.”
He gets it, doesn’t he?
“You’re sweet, and a perfect match for Sandro.” He pauses. “I’m happy for him.” He stands, steps in, and pulls me into a hug. “Take care of the asshole, promise?”
