Shielded Wrongs (Bellandi Crime Syndicate 4)

13

Sadie

I had enough brothers in my life. The last thing I needed was Mike getting into a pissing contest with Enzo just because he seemed to think he’d laid claim to me in that brotherly way.

I didn't tolerate that kind of shit from the men who were actually my brothers, so I'd never allow it from a friend. Especially not one that I enjoyed sparring with and regularly knocked on his ass. I wasn’t naive enough to believe that would be the case if I was a man, but I'd still take the win for what it was. Mike was a legend in the underground, kicking ass and taking names on a regular basis. If he genuinely wanted to fight me, he could

probably overpower me.

But I could also be a whole hell of a lot craftier than I had been so far when we goofed off.

I dropped my phone on the counter after confirming there were no missed calls from Ivory. Beth glanced up from the computer, giving me that oh shit look that she pulled off so well, no matter how many times she saw me lay down the law when a man got out of line in my gym. Giving Rebel another once over to check on her, I turned and stormed over to the two men glaring at one another. Enzo's striking face transformed into a panty melting grin as his eyes met mine. The man was pure temptation. Irresistible and everything I didn't need in my life.

If only I could convince my vagina of that.

She wanted to purr and tear my clothes off for another round of orgasms. I'd yet to find a man who could fuck me damn near into a coma better than my vibrator could. Until Enzo.

Only one time with him, a quickie on the boxing ring floor at that, and I knew he'd rock my world any time he touched me.

"I appreciate the brotherly love and all, but I can take care of myself," I said, testing the waters. Mike's face turned sheepish for a split second, a moment of shame where he knew he'd never interfered in my love life before. He'd seen me put too many handsy men on their ass to think I needed the assistance.

"Bellandis are different," he grunted, nodding his head over at Enzo.

"Good thing he's a Vescovi then," I teased with a raised brow. I knew damn well what he meant, but Mike and I had never had that conversation, or felt each other out to decide just how much we each knew about the man my best friend had married.

He didn't know that I knew Matteo ruled Chicago with strict rules that he enforced with the threat of Ryker and his hatchet. He didn't know I knew Matteo ran the Underground through a proxy.

"Don't play dumb with me," Mike warned, his eyes hardening as his biceps bulged.

"No need to worry about my virtue, darling," I laughed. "That ship sailed a long time ago. I might as well get some use out of him while he's poking his nose in my business. He made me leave my vibrator at home." I forced my lips into a pout, tapping my thigh five times to reduce the anxiety I felt over the conversation.

That was the unfortunate reality of being free. Of enjoying sex and living a life liberated by the ability to do whatever the fuck I wanted. Men did it and it was just boys will be boys. I did it, and I was a slut.

Fuck that shit.

Mike winced, adding insult to injury, like I was meant to be a nun simply because he didn't like to be reminded of my sex life. Ignoring it, I turned my attention to the man who I could stab in his sleep for the way he acted like I was his property.

I belonged to no one.

"Get a grip. If you think you're man enough to make me want to be owned, get that shit out of your head. I might like it when you pull my hair or bite me, but that will not fly when you aren't getting me off. Keep that to sex, and we'll do just fine," I threatened, spinning on my heel and trying not to notice Beth giggling into her palm. My phone was vibrating on the counter when I reached it, and I snatched it off the surface as I bent down to scratch the back of Rebel's neck as she watched me. "Yo," I snapped into the phone as I pressed it to my ear.

Silence met my ear, and then Ivory's honeyed voice came through the speaker. "What'd he do?" she asked hesitantly.

"The next step is for him to pee on me at the rate he's going," I sighed.

"Are we talking about the dog or Enzo?" She snickered. "It could really go either way."

"Rebel's a girl. So the only territorial male in my life is thanks to you. Have I said thank you? I'd kind of like to do it by drawing a dick on your face." Rebel raised her head, tilting it to the side as she studied me. Standing and nudging my hand where it tapped against my thigh, she encouraged me to pet her again.

"Matteo wouldn't appreciate another dick touching me," Ivory said.

"It'd be a fucking drawing for shit's sake. Why don't you send me a picture, and I'll make it in his likeness so he can't be jealous of the fictitious penis. Nobody's more of a dick than him for saddling me with Enzo, so it seems fitting, if you ask me." A glance over at Enzo and Mike confirmed they were still busy having a tense conversation. The disrespect for my opinions grated on my nerves.

"Wrong. Patrick takes that title," Ivory said, her voice deepening. She'd known him and liked him well enough, so to know that he cheated felt like a personal affront to her, too. The fact that she'd gone on a "date" with him once at my suggestion only made the situation weirder. Patrick had liked her, and that should have been the first clue that we'd never work. I had no clue how Ivory and I worked as best friends, but we couldn't have been more different if we'd tried. Men who liked Ivory's quiet strength tended not to like my in-your-face attitude.

Hence Patrick's insistence for me to settle down. Like the manic energy that kept me from sitting still was my fault and not the result of all the messed up chemical imbalances in my brain, making it so that I literally couldn't function without jumping around. I wanted to, but I needed that extra dopamine or life was boring.

Plain.