Theirs to Protect (Mafia Menage Trilogy 3)

I didn’t comply right away. Gian was carrying Ashlyn away from me, moving her to a position where Ciro would be between us.

“Sit, or I’ll hurt her,” he snapped.

My feet moved before my brain decided to comply. Protecting Ashlyn was imprinted on my basest instincts, and I’d already put her in terrible danger with my secret plans. All I could do now was try to keep her from being hurt.

I dropped into the chair, my leg giving out when I tried to bend. Immediately, Gian wrenched my arms behind my back and secured them with a zip tie.

I was going to die here. The knowledge settled over me with cold clarity. Ciro wouldn’t be here if he didn’t plan to kill me.

But Ashlyn would survive. I refused to allow myself to even contemplate her death. Joseph would find her. He would keep her safe and out of Ciro’s hands.

Ciro. How the fuck was Ciro here? I’d expected to find Elio waiting to kill me, but the middle-aged man with Ciro wasn’t Elio Amato. I’d found pictures of the mob boss in my research—he had a thick black beard and salt-and-pepper hair that matched his brother’s, but Elio’s curls were cropped closer around the sides of his face. The stranger with Ciro was bald, his chin darkened with a neatly styled goatee. The cut of his tailored shirt and slacks suggested wealth, as did the arrogant sneer that sharpened his prominent cheekbones.

“I thought you were in Boston,” I said, provoking Ciro to explain himself. “Unless you were exiled from America, too?”

His craggy face twisted into a mask of rage, and he closed the distance between us in three thundering strides. Pain cracked through my skull when his fist collided with my jaw. Black dots danced across my vision, but I willed the world to stay in focus. I couldn’t lose sight of Ashlyn. If I kept Ciro’s fury aimed in my direction, he would leave her alone. Joseph had a chance of finding her, and I would keep Amato’s filthy hands off her until my dying breath.

“It’s scum like you that’s ruining my family!” he roared. Another starburst of pain as his fist slammed into my gut. My insides writhed, and I gasped for air. “My brother has gone soft. First, he let his fag son live. Now, he’s plotting with you to kill me. Luckily for me, my good friend Pietro still holds traditional values.” He gestured at the bald man, who was smirking at my pain.

“Pietro was kind enough to warn me about your plan to meet with my brother.” Ciro calmed as he spoke, as though the sound of his own voice soothed him. “I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting you to put up a fight, much less try to convince my own brother to kill me. But here we are. Pietro loaned me the use of this estate to deal with you before you could put any nasty ideas in Elio’s head. I’ve come a long way to stop your meeting from happening, and it hasn’t been cheap.” He tilted his head in Ashlyn’s direction. “I should be able to compensate for the expense if I get a good price for your whore. Tell me, does she take two cocks at once, or do you and Russo take turns? I’d like to know just how flexible she is.”

A beastly snarl ripped from my chest, and I jerked against my restraints. The plastic zip tie cut into my wrists, flaying my skin as I struggled to get my hands around Ciro’s neck.

He laughed and leaned over me, entering my personal space to show me just how powerless I was to fight him off. “I think I’ll take a turn with her before I sell her. Then, I’ll find Russo and kill him.” He cocked his head to the side and mused, “But he’s almost as pretty as she is. Maybe I could get a good price for him, too.” Ignoring my growled curses, he grinned in my face, just out of range of my snapping teeth. “But you’re the one who plotted to meet with Elio. You’re the one who tried to have me killed. You’ll wish you were dead before I’m finished with you.”

His fist smashed into my jaw, and the pain began.

Chapter Thirteen

Joseph

Gone. They’re gone. I tore my hands through my hair as I searched our hotel suite for any clues as to where my family had been taken. Because they hadn’t simply gone on a walk without me. They didn’t leave of their own free will.

When they hadn’t shown to meet me at the restaurant for lunch, I’d come back to find the suite empty. Marco’s phone was on the floor, and Ashlyn’s still rested on the bathroom counter. Other than that, the room showed no signs of a struggle.