Matched to the Mafia (Seeking Curves)

I pulled my attention back toward my computer and started working, but as they did since Enzo had come up and asked me out, my thoughts and concentration all went toward him.

And the scariest part of all, I was coming to find out, was that Enzo knew the effect he had on me… and I was pretty sure it was exactly what he wanted.

I was exactly where he wanted me.

9

Enzo

I stepped through the open doorway in the rundown warehouse The Family used for less savory endeavors that needed handling.

Several of my men were already in the room, their stances easygoing, even if there was fierce desire for bloodshed in their eyes.

A few more soldiers followed behind me. Normally, there were only a couple of men around during the interrogation and torture of an enemy, but I supposed tonight was special, seeing as I’d be taking part in the fun.

I zeroed in on Mario. He was already sitting, his feet tied with rope to the legs of the wooden chair, his hands secured behind him. He had a swollen lip, and his left eye was closed and black and blue, dried blood smeared along the side of his face.

Francisco stood behind Mario, a grin on his face. I was pretty sure I’d never met a human more sadistic than Francisco, and even if it wasn’t my style of delivering pain when it wasn’t due, Francisco got off on it.

I stopped in front of Mario, who at this point had his head tipped back and his one good eye trained right on me. I said nothing as I uncuffed the left sleeve of my shirt and started slowly rolling it up my forearm, my focus never leaving him. I could feel the tension radiate throughout the room, my soldiers shifting from foot to foot, their excitement over what was to come saturating the air.

“Mario.” I said his name slowly as I undid the cuff of my other sleeve, focusing on rolling the crisp, expensive material up. “You’ve caused us quite a bit of trouble.”

When both my sleeves were above my elbows, I glanced up at him then. I looked at the rust-colored blood that had dried to a caked-on smear across his face, the fresh red, viscous fluid still dripping out of the wounds that marred his lip and above his eye.

“I should’ve changed my shirt,” I murmured absentmindedly and looked down at my white Oxford. “It’s going to be stained.” My voice was monotone, void of any emotion. Because I felt none at this moment.

A few of my soldiers cleared their throats, maybe getting the sense that although outwardly I was collected and calm, inside, I was brutal and would show no mercy.

“Nothing to say?” I said again when Mario kept quiet. He shifted on the seat as much as he could since being restrained, the old, wooden chair rattling against the ground from the uneven legs.

“What can I say, Capo?”

I tilted my head to the side. “Capo? I’m not your capo, not anymore.” I let those words hang between us for long moments. “You lost the right to tie yourself to The Family when you betrayed us, Mario. You didn’t care that I was your capo when you decided to turn, to do unsavory tasks behind our backs.” I slowly grinned. “And you actually thought you could get away with it.” I let a low laugh spill from me, which had a few of the other men chuckling in return.

Mario looked around, his fear a clear mask on his face. I could practically hear his heart racing hard and fast like a scared rabbit running from a wolf.

I was that wolf, and I never let my prey get away.

“So tell me, Mario. Tell me why you see me as your capo still after everything?” I held my hands out, palms up, waiting expectantly for him to speak again. “Are you going to tell me this was a mistake? That you’re innocent?”

He licked his blood-caked lips and exhaled, the defeat sinking in further. “There’s nothing I can say. You know the truth, which is why I’m here.”

I let my hands fall back to my sides as I regarded him. “And what, Mario?” I prompted low.

“The Family doesn’t make mistakes,” he whispered.

I inclined my head, the only response I gave him. It was true: The Family didn’t make mistakes when it came to finding traitors. And I wasn’t going to ask Mario why he did what he did. It didn’t matter. The end result was the same.

“But this isn’t just about you being a traitor, is it, Mario?”

He snapped his eyes up to me, and the one not swollen widened. I let my grin grow. I leaned in close so we were almost nose-to-nose. “You think we only knew about you going behind our backs and giving Family information to our enemies?” My voice was deadly low, and his breathing picked up. “You think we didn’t find out about what you were also doing?” I curled my lip in disgust and didn’t keep the growl out of my voice. I slowly rose and felt the confusion from some of my soldiers. They weren’t privy to all things and would have only known about Mario passing off information. They wouldn’t know about the other depraved things he was involved in.