Cruel Summer

It’s the only other option I can think of. I thought the contract on my head was rendered null when the Ramos was killed, but maybe not?

A creak moves through the room and I look up as the small sliver of light grows as the door opens. A man stands in the doorframe, the light behind him flooding hides his features. I blink, going to put a hand up as the light burns my eyes. My hands jerk against the cuffs and I’m quickly reminded of my restraints.

I look down instead, blinking a couple of times before looking up.

I flinch back against the chair when I find the man only a foot away from me now.

He looks familiar, with his salt and pepper hair and thin frown on his face, but I can’t quite place who he is.

“Giovanni’s slut,” he spits out, his lips twisting in disgust.

And that’s when things start clicking into place.

This is the man we’ve run into at a couple of parties. From my understanding, he’s supposed to have some sort of deal with the Costas worked out, yet it seems as if tensions are high anytime he’s in the room. Just look at the last party, where he and his daughter decided to come for me.

Giovanni’s fiance, I remind myself.

Shit, is that what this is about?

At the end of the day, people keep trying to kill me because they believe that I’m close to Giovanni. And that couldn’t be any further from the fucking truth.

The man takes a step toward me as I try to remember what his name is.

Something with an S…

Shelton?

No, Shef-Something.

Sheffield.

Sheffield draws closer. He’s left the door open and my head isn’t throbbing quite as much, so it’s easier to focus on him. To say he looks pissed would be an understatement. I’m surprised I haven’t dropped dead from his stare alone.

“You think you can just waltz into our world and hop into the bed of my daughter's fiance without any repercussions?” he asks, turning his nose up at me. “And you’re not even something fascinating, exotic,” he sneers. “It’s an embarrassment to me and my family, especially my daughter.”

I keep my lips shut, because what can I say that’s going to get me out of this situation? You’ve made a mistake, I’m not really Giovnani’s mistress, though he does fuck me when the mood hits him and when he wants to hurt me. And I don’t always hate it.

I press my lips together tighter.

The man shakes his head and when he begins to pace back and forth, I can see him practically brimming with violent energy. “And Giovanni, he thinks just because of who his family is that I won’t retaliate against him. I may not be mafia, but I have connections, it's why he needed me in the first place. I guess tight pussy made him forget.” He whips around, his eyes landing on me. “I told him, I told him he had to choose, bury your corpse in one of his graveyards and marry my daughter, or prepare for war.” He leans closer until I can feel his breath on my face.

Dread moves through my stomach.

I don’t even see his hand whip through the air, I just know that when my head rocks to the side and my chair tilts back that there’s no other explanation for it.

Blood fills my mouth and this time I’m positive that my lip has been cut.

He hits me again and when my chair nearly falls over, he captures it, his lips curling into a sneer. His face hovers close enough to mine that spittle hits my face when he speaks. “Fucking guess what he told me.”

I don’t have to guess.

If Giovanni agreed to marry his daughter and knock me off, I’d already be dead.

I wouldn’t be being held captive by a wild man.

Because that’s what this man in front of me is. Wild and unhinged, in a way that’s different from Maximo. Maximo lives in chaos, thrives in it. He controls it in his own way. This man isn’t in any control, it's as if his anger has overtaken him and he isn’t quite sure what to do with it.

Besides kill me.