Theirs to Protect (Mafia Menage Trilogy 3)

My entire body arched, my muscles going taut in the agonizingly blissful seconds when I hovered at the precipice. I flew into the abyss, falling into dark ecstasy. Joseph cursed, and his hot seed lashed deep inside me, stoking the heat at my quivering core. A heartbeat later, Marco pushed into my throat, releasing into me on a primal roar.

For long moments, we were all suspended in bliss, bound together by pleasure so keen it made my eyes sting with emotion. The warm heat of my tears spilled over my cheeks, and suddenly, I could breathe again. Joseph’s strong hands were supporting me, and Marco’s mouth moved over mine to communicate the depth of their love in a way words never could.

I was theirs, and they were mine.

Chapter Seven

Joseph

“You know Ashlyn will be upset if she realizes we’re watching her, right?” I gauged Marco’s reaction, but he didn’t so much as flinch. He simply continued to stare out the window that offered a clear view of the wine bar across the street. We’d requested this booth specifically, and I’d been holding it for over half an hour before Marco finally dropped Ashlyn off for her girls’ night. Right now, she’d be sipping prosecco with her best friend Jayme, celebrating the first night of their spring break. She didn’t have a clue that Marco and I were monitoring every man who entered the bar.

“That’s why she had the nightmare about Costa,” I pressed when Marco didn’t respond. “You know she’s sensitive to our emotions. She sensed that something bad happened yesterday. I think we should tell her what’s going on.”

“What?” Marco’s attention finally snapped to me, his expression thunderous. “You want to scare her?”

My brows lifted. “Our behavior is scaring her. Our tension and worry caused her nightmare about Costa. Don’t you think it would be better if she knew why she’s feeling scared?”

“She wasn’t scared or anxious after our session this afternoon. I don’t know if you could tell from this vantage point, but she was practically glowing when I dropped her off at the bar. She’s not scared. She’s happy. I want to keep it that way.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “Sure, she’s happy now, but she’ll pick up on our moods again eventually. We can’t fuck her into oblivion every minute of every day.”

Marco’s granite features hardened to a stony, stubborn mask. “Yes, we can. Do you have a problem with that?”

I smothered a sigh. “We can’t deal with this threat if we’re balls-deep in her all the time. She won’t be the only one who’s distracted from reality. Do you want us to get ambushed?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, digging in his heels. “We’re not telling her about this. End of discussion.”

Before I could formulate a new approach to argue my point, my phone chimed with a notification. Welcoming the brief respite, I checked the text.

My stomach dropped. My dad had sent me a photo of a man wearing a crisp, new Red Sox cap and a pristine Harvard hoodie. The image was a little grainy, the colors muted. I recognized it as a still frame from a security camera. The café where Ashlyn, Marco, and I had met for our brief date yesterday was visible in the background.

A message appeared beneath the picture: Rafael Foti. Associated with the Amato crime family. Lives alone in the North End. An address followed.

Dad must’ve looked into Ashlyn’s stalker. I’d told him that the man was following her after class. It wouldn’t have been difficult for him to utilize his resources to pull CCTV footage and identify our enemy. Especially because there would be more footage of the man being loaded into an ambulance less than ten minutes after this image was captured outside the café, as well as a hospital record of a patient admitted with a knife wound.

Amato crime family. Rafael was associated with Ciro Amato, the mobster who’d recently moved to Boston after a prison stint in Italy; the man who’d been throwing his weight around and carving out a place for himself within the existing power structure of their criminal syndicate.

I swallowed a curse, and Marco immediately caught my tense reaction. “What is it?”

My teeth clenched, holding in the information. I’d asked my dad not to get involved. The last thing I wanted was to get dragged back into the mafia.

As though he heard my thoughts, my dad sent another message: It’s just information. Nothing will link it to me. Be careful, son. Keep Ashlyn safe.

I blew out a long breath and forced my fists to unfurl. “How would you like to go pay a visit to someone in the North End?” We could question Rafael Foti right now and find out why they were targeting us. We could deal with the threat if we acted quickly.