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Sweet and Vicious(Margarelli Brothers 1)

Page 46

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Vincent nodded.

“I know who you are talking about. He’s practically an Untouchable.”

“He runs with Mason?” I asked. Everybody knew Mason. He was as fucking honorable as they came, even though he wasn’t involved in any of the illegal shit we did with the clubs anymore.

“Yeah, Connor is one of them,” my big brother said with a nod. “They are family, even if he doesn’t wear leather.”

I swallowed.

“Maybe just the threat . . . something specific. Something from before you took over. Just enough to make him hightail back down south.”

“Or further,” Vincent said with a feral smile. “I hear Argentina is nice this time of year.”

Mikey grinned and held up his hand for a high-five.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about!”

Vince rolled his eyes. I gave Mikey a look, then pushed his hand away. He was such a ham sometimes. He told us we were too fucking serious. He was probably right.

“Come here, you sonofabitch.”

I enfolded him in a bear hug as he protested.

“My mother would not appreciate that, you fucker.”

“Not lately, he’s not,” Vince said dryly. We looked at him, then at each other. Then we died laughing.

“Did . . . Vincent just . . . make a . . . joke?” Michael was barely breathing, but he choked the words out.

“I think he did,” I gasped between guffaws. We had an idea. A plan. I felt better than I had in days. “You guys,” I said in awe, “I’m getting fucking married.”

“That you are, Little Brother.” Vincent laid his heavy hand on my shoulder. The thing was like a goddamn anvil. “That you are.”

Chapter 30

Evangeline

“Thank you for coming,” I said tentatively as Auntie worked on my hair. I was sitting on a chair in the kitchen while my mom looked around. She looked exhausted. I was sure she had been worried sick. In fact, I was surprised she hadn’t marched on the FBI or camped out in the parking lot until someone listened to her. I’d expected someone to find me from the get go. But somehow, the troops had never materialized.

Guilt washed over me. I’d been here, cozying up with a handsome but extremely dangerous guy, eating insanely good food and watching old movies, and my mother had been going out of her mind.

She had hugged me tightly in greeting but said nothing else.

How could she? We hadn’t even had a second alone. I could tell she had something to say. But so far? Not a peep.

Her eyes missed nothing, though. I watched as she looked out the windows, clocked the locks on the door to the suite, noted my books and laptop, and God knows what else.

She probably knew more about the Margarellis than I did.

Her face was completely blank, which I was thankful for. My mother was no dummy. But I could read the slight widening of her eyes at the luxury surrounding us and the narrowing of her eyes when she realized we were not going to be left alone.

I wasn’t sure if I was grateful about that or not. There was a very good chance that I would crumple under her scrutiny. To tell the truth, a huge part of me wanted to curl up with my head on her lap and cry.

Cry for the girl who had accidentally wandered into this life. The girl who had yet to see a head roll across a marble floor. The girl who had loved nothing better than studying and reading and living up to her mother’s very high expectations.

The girl who had lost everything she held dear and was somehow still falling in love with the mobster behind it.

But Tony was so much more than a criminal. He was more than a killer. He was kind. Chivalrous. He had saved me.

A little too thoroughly, as it turned out.

And I couldn’t tell her any of that.

“I can finish up. Thank you, Auntie.”

She gave me a worried look, and I nodded firmly. I needed to be alone with my mama. Plus, she looked green around the gills. She needed to be alone with me.

The door clicked softly behind Auntie and I exhaled. I knew well enough that we were not really alone in this house. Not really. Not ever.

Whatever was said would have to be discrete.

“Do you know what your fiancé does?”

Wow, Mom. Way to beat around the bush.

I sighed and nodded.

“Tony owns nightclubs.”

“This is one of the most notorious—” I held up a hand to stop her, my eyes wide. I mouthed a single word at her. ‘Don’t.’

“He’s a good man, mama. This is what I want.”

“How the hell did you even meet him? I thought you were spending your nights with your books!” She looked wild. I could tell she was barely hanging on. This went against everything she had ever wanted for me.

I was giving up my freedom. My autonomy. My chance at being an independent woman.



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