Stolen Mafia Bride by Mae Doyle
Marcelo
Erick Tallen falls to the ground in front of me but not before a searing pain cuts through my side, making me gasp out in pain as I grab my hip. Fucking asshole was packing all this time under his white chef’s coat and I never realized it. If the bastard was smart, he’d have had his gun on him every single time that the two of us met for a little chat, but this was the first time that I’d ever seen him pull it.
It’s also the last time he’ll ever pull it.
It’s not the sound of his body hitting the floor that makes me look up. It’s not the realization that I’m going to bleed all over the fucking floor if I’m not careful that sends a shockwave through my body.
It’s the fact that someone fucking screamed.
My head jerks to the side as I try to figure out where the hell the sound came from. Someone’s outside, I can see them standing there in the light, watching me, fucking watching me, their mouth falling open in surprise.
No, not their.
Her.
Whoever the hell is staring at me, she’s slowly backing up now, keeping her hands up in front of her like that’s going to prevent me from coming after her. Her mouth is slack but she’s not screaming anymore, and I take my eyes off of her for one second to look down at my side.
It’s dark as fuck in this fucking bakery, but I can still see the blood blooming on my clothes. Thank fuck Erick is a terrible shot or he could have hit something important. All he did was graze me, so it will leave a scar, but I’m not going to have to worry about getting my ass to the hospital.
Dealing with doctors in hospitals is when shit goes bad. It’s always best to have one working for your family directly so that it’s never an issue in the first place.
That thought crosses my mind as I walk to the front of the bakery, keeping my eyes on the girl. She still hasn’t moved and is staring at me as I get closer, her eyes locked on me like she can’t pull them away.
I feel the same about her, but I still yank my phone from my pocket as I reach the front door. My brother picks up on the first ring, just like always. He’s there for me, no matter what, mostly because the two of us know that together we’re strong enough to handle any threat to our family.
“Salvatore,” I growl, unable to keep the pain out of my voice, “I need a cleanup at the bakery.”
He sighs and I know for a fact that he’s still in bed from the thick sound of his voice. “What the fuck did you do?”
I grimace, pushing the door open and turning to face the girl. She’s still backing slowly up and even though she’s dressed for a run, she doesn’t turn and try to escape. I love that she can’t seem to take her eyes off of me even though making a break for it would be the smartest thing that she could do right now.
“It was self-defense. The fucker shot first.” Another step and the girl still doesn’t move. She can’t take her eyes off me. Poor thing’s frozen. If she knew what was good for her, she’d turn tail and run right now.
“But you ended it?” His voice is cold. “It’s done?”
“It’s done. Now I just need a cleaning crew.”
“And you can’t do that yourself?” He sounds irritated and I’m sure that I know why. Me, I don’t mind working on the weekends. But ever since Salvatore got married to Arabelle, he’s been setting aside Saturday and Sunday as time for the two of them. I get it, I really do, but you can’t ever turn your back on the family business, not when you’re really needed.
“There’s a loose end to tie up.” My eyes drift over the girl as I speak. I’m having trouble pinning down just how old she is. She looks fit and firm, her body sexy in her tight running clothes, and she has an innocence about her that is already driving me nuts. I haven’t talked to her or even gotten close to her but I already want to destroy it.
“Fuck. Deal with it.” Salvatore hangs up and I slip my phone back into my pocket.
“Hey, darling,” I say, keeping my voice as calm and light as possible. She’s definitely spooked and I can’t push aside the thought that approaching her right now is a little like dealing with a rogue horse that needs to be broken.
“You killed him.” Her voice is just as perfect as the rest of her. She’s backed up so far now that her thighs brush against a bench on the sidewalk and she pauses, reaching behind her to feel what she knocked into. She’s obviously smart enough that she doesn’t want to turn around and risk taking her eyes off of me for one second.
“It was self-defense,” I say for the second time in just a few minutes. I can tell there’s no way in hell that she’s ever going to believe what I just said, so I continue in that smooth, even voice. “Would you rather me be the one dead and on the floor in there, darling?”
Her eyes dart to the side when she hears the sirens. I hear them too, but I know something that she doesn’t. She may think that help is on the way, but we have a lot of the cops here in our pockets. There are a few who refuse to let us pay them off, but we do our best to avoid any kind of contact with them unless absolutely necessary.
I know that Salvatore will have called officers that we can count on to be on our side.
“You’re going to be arrested,” she says, crossing her arms on her chest. All it does is push her perky tits higher and I lazily glance down at them before looking pointedly back at her face. “The police are coming. I’ll tell them what I saw.”
“They won’t care.” Moving quickly, I walk up to her, ready to close the gap between us and put an end to this nonsense. I know that Salvatore would tell me that I need to put a bullet in her heart, but I hesitate, unsure of myself.
I hated him when he wouldn’t kill Arabelle. It was such a simple job—one bullet in her brain and we could have avoided a hell of a lot of heartache. But he couldn’t fucking do it. Reaching down, I grab the grip of my gun, enjoying the rough feeling of it against my skin. It cuts into my skin a little, almost hurting, but I really like it.
I love being grounded by the texture and the bit of pain. It reminds me that I need to take what I’m doing seriously.
“You’re going to kill me,” she gasps, looking down at my hand.
“I’m not.” I don’t know yet what I’m going to do. All I know is that there’s no way in hell that I can let this gorgeous girl get away from me. She’s already said that she’ll talk to the police, and the last thing that we need right now is for her to say something to the wrong set of officers.
The ones in our pocket will say what they need to in order to help us, but I don’t trust this girl.
Her mouth falls open like she’s going to speak, but instead she turns, putting one foot on the seat of the bench and vaulting over it. She’s much faster than I would have given her credit for, but I know that adrenaline can push you do to incredible things when you’re in a tight spot.
“Get the fuck back here!” I growl, following her. I hit the ground hard on the other side of the bench but don’t let the force of the impact slow me down. Instead, I chase after her, keeping my eyes on her swinging ponytail as she darts across the street to an alley.
She may think that she can outrun or me or that she can hide, but she’s wrong on both accounts. I’ll do anything to protect my family.
Anything.
