Gemma: A Mafia Forbidden Romance

I’m just biding my time and doing what I’m told. I’m not the ambitious one.

“Fuck,” Declan drawls out the word as his eyes rake over Gemma. I feel a sharp pain in my chest, I don’t want him looking at her that way.

I don’t want anyone looking at her that way.

“What are you doing here, girl?” Declan leans forward, placing an arm on either side of her, caging her in.

“Get the fuck away from me.” She spits back.

Her demeanor changes with my brother. She’s no longer sassy and fearless, instead she looks guarded. It’s as if she can see through us to know our intentions aren’t the same. If she’s going to be afraid of only one of us, she’s right to be afraid of Declan. He’s far more ruthless than I am.

He chuckles. The fight is the best part to him, Declan likes fear in his women. He likes to make them sweat, see them cry, make them bleed. He’s not a sympathetic man.

Not that I’m much better.

Her eyes look to me for help, but I stay silent. What she doesn’t realize is it will only make it worse if I express any interest in her. So instead, I let my brother torture her.

“Were you about to give it up to my brother here?” He hisses the question at her, and she flinches. “What? If you were going to give it up to him, why can’t you give it to me instead?”

She meets his gaze, eye to eye, and then spits directly in his face.

The laugh leaves my lips before I can even process the thought.

She fucking spit on him.

He steps back, wiping the saliva from his face, and she takes the opportunity to stand up. Not quick enough though, before she’s barely up his arm winds back and his hand cracks across her cheek. Her hand flies to her face, covering the area he slapped.

“You fucking bitch.” He spits.

“Enough,” I cut in, sliding my body between his and hers. Declan’s eyes are dark and cold and his posture is stiff as he peers down at her. I can practically see the red in his eyes. He’s going to hurt her.

I’m not close with my brother, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know him.

“Declan,” I press a hand to his chest, backing him away from her. “I’m taking her home, she’s gonna give her brothers a message from us.”

“I have a better message,” he snarls. “I think her body will speak volumes to her shithead brothers, what do you think bitch?”

She flinches, but stays silent, thank God.

“I’ll make sure they get the message, but she’s going home alive. Her death will only start a bigger war, got me?” I’m not in the position to be making the calls, but Declan has always been a little too hot headed and I’ve always been the one to bring balance.

“Fine.” He growls.

“Let’s go.” I grab Gemma by the arm before she even has a chance to think. Her hair is messy and her shirt is crooked, but I don’t give her a chance to adjust herself before I drag her out of my bar. She looks around like someone will stop her or protect her, but they all turn cheek.

She’s in the fucking Irish Mob’s territory.

What did she think was going to happen?

“DO YOU HAVE A FUCKING death wish?” Liam growls at me as he shoves me forward toward the black Ford F-150. He’s rough with me now, rougher than he was in his office. His hands sting when they make contact with my skin through the thin material of my shirt.

I can’t tell if he’s displaying a show of dominance, or if he’s pissed that he almost got caught fucking the enemy.

“Get in.” He opens the door and lifts me up, throwing me on the seat.

“Why even tell me to get in if you were just going to toss me in anyway?” My shout is blocked by the slamming of the car door.

Fucking asshole.