Owned by the mafia boss

ALESSIO

Found you, fucker.

Anthony sprawled on a white leather sofa as an olive-skinned beauty loosed his tie. Brunette waves tumbled down her back. He fisted them as he devoured her mouth with a sloppy kiss.

That tongue had been on my wife.

I stopped inches away from them. “Shiren.”

“Yes, Mr. Salvatore?”

“Take a hike.”

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Anthony gave her a lascivious grin as she spilled from his lap, ripping his palm on her ass. “She reminds me of your wife.”

He was baiting me.

“Get up.”

Anthony remained seated, laughing. “You should see your face. Oh, man. You are too easy.”

“Get the fuck up.”

“So you can punch me?”

“You think that’s all I’ll do to you? No, I’m putting you in the hospital. You’ll be pissing out of a catheter for weeks.” I faced his bodyguards and screamed, “Clear the room!”

“Bro, I didn’t give her anything she didn’t want.”

My hands wrapped his throat, and I slammed him into the table. He tried to gouge my eyes. My knuckles sank between his ribs. He doubled over. I made good on my tube-in-dick threat. I hammered his kidneys. He sucked in an agonized breath and tackled my waist. I introduced his chin to the wall. He kneed my groin.

Excruciating pain radiated into my thighs.

A vase launched at my head. I ducked. Jesus, he fought like a little bitch. He threw projectiles that shattered on the walls, feet from their target. I caught his jacket and shoved him to the ground. Then I dealt him the beating his daddy never gave.

“Spoiled brat! Waste of space junkie.”

I hated him.

My fist pummeled his stomach. He vomited.

“Drugged-out loser. Stand up! Fight back.”

He grappled me, but I pulled my leg free and jammed my shoe in his skull. He went limp as he sprawled on the marble.

Shit. Did I get too carried away?

Then a sound wheezed from his crimson lips.

Laughter. He was laughing.

My rage still burned white-hot as I grabbed a money clip from my pocket. I tossed it, and the cash smacked his forehead. “Here. Shoot it up, snort it, I don’t give a damn. I’m finished with you.”

“You should be more worried if I’m done with you.”

I kicked his ribs. “What’s that?”

He balled himself and winced. “Sorry. I’m sorry, Alessio.”

“You ever come near my wife again, I’ll kill you.”

He grinned a bright red smile, apparently undisturbed by my threat.

There was no getting through to him while he was high-fucking maniac. I abandoned him on the floor and summoned his bodyguards.

“Take him to the hospital.”

They picked him off the ground as I stewed with a glass of whiskey, and then I prowled the club until I found Shiren. I wasn’t sure how much she’d witnessed and I needed to buy her silence. She was chatting with two other women. She approached me and closed her palm around the wad of cash I offered. Luckily, Michael vetted these girls with great care. Most of them were smart enough not to run their mouths, but I couldn’t afford the risk.

Nico’s son.

Ten years, and I’d never hit the douchebag. I’d committed the unforgivable. Nico would lose his mind, but what filled my heart wasn’t sorrow for beating Anthony.

Panic.

She said she loved me, and I’d left her there.

FUCK, fuck, fuck!

Not at the club or home. I’d checked every room, but there was no point-she was gone. She’d probably fled to her parents. Exactly what I deserved for being such an asshole. I promised I’d be back and disappeared for forty-five minutes, right after she told me she loved me.

Through the blaze of terror struck the tiniest bolt of hope.

Did she mean it?

Part of me hoped not. I had no idea what to do with love. I had zero experience tending to a woman’s feelings beyond her basic needs. Hunger, shelter, happiness, sure-I could handle those.

What did I know about love?

My family had turned their backs on me. Nico’s son was always his priority. Nobody felt the way she did about me. Maybe it was just a fantasy.

She loves you, you idiot.

She’d tried to tell me for weeks. Since the Portland trip. I’d blocked it from my thoughts because while I could beat the crap out of a boss’ kid, I was scared shitless of Mia’s love for me. Love was an impossible standard to live up to.

I slammed my fist into the bedroom door, which crashed into the wall and dented the plaster. I stormed into the closet, expecting it to be bare of clothing, but the racks hung in place. Next, I checked the bathroom-her toothbrush was still there. Encouraging signs, but she wasn’t answering my desperate texts.

Me: Please come back. Let’s talk.

Me: Where are you?

Me: Are you coming home?

I paced my house and waited, my heart bursting when a car drove down the road. She’d made me delete all the apps tracking her location, but it was three in the morning. Nausea pitted my stomach as I raided her shit and dumped out her purses, searching for anything that might hint at where she was. Nothing but balled up receipts and change. I was losing my mind with worry.

When my call shot to voicemail, I hurled the phone at a console table and shattered the screen. Then I picked it up and called Ignacio. He swore up and down she wasn’t there. Or at her cousins’. Nobody had seen or heard from Mia in hours.

I went to Michael’s. He answered the door in sweatpants and a T-shirt. He raked his light brown locks and stared at me, brows narrowing.

“Is Mia here?”

“No. What happened? Why aren’t you wearing a coat?”

I didn’t feel the weather. “She’s gone.”

“What?” He brushed snow off my shoulders and winced when he touched my bicep. “Christ, you’re cold. Get in, you moron. It’s freezing. Tell me what happened.”

“Left me,” I forced out. “No clue where she is.”

“What did you do?”

It was telling that he assumed I was at fault.

“She said she loved me.”

Michael wiped his face, his smile condescending.

“And?”

“She’s never done that before. I had-had something else to do. I just left. When I returned, she was gone.”

Laughter boomed from his chest, filling the space with the deep, bellyaching sound. “What is the matter with you? How do you leave after your wife says that?”

I’m an idiot. “I don’t know.”

“Oh, Alessio.” Michael rubbed his head, his expression pained. “I thought I taught you better game.”

“How do I fix it?”

“You’re fucked, my friend.”

“What am I supposed to do? She won’t answer my texts or calls and I can’t-”

“Calm down. My kids are asleep.”

“Sorry.”

“You are unbelievable.” Michael made a noise of disgust as he bumped into my shoulder. “You have no idea how lucky you are. She’s beautiful. She’s kind and amazing with children. Mia is everything you want. All she needed was a little validation, and you treated her like garbage.”

“What do you mean?”

“You didn’t say it back, you moron.” He rolled his eyes and took me by the shoulders. “You love her. Yes, you do. Look at you. You’re in my house without a coat at three in the goddamned morning, panicking over a woman who left you. Of course you love her.”

He was right.

I’d tried to win her over for months. Why? The money wasn’t the draw. I didn’t need more dollars in my bank account. I wanted her. I’d risked it all to get her. She’d sparked a flame that wouldn’t be extinguished, and it had only grown as we’d lived together. I’d filled my heart with her for weeks, and without her there was nothing.

I loved her. I did.

The simplicity of it crashed into me, buckling my knees. I caught my balance on his couch and sank into the cushions. I bled from the inside out with remorse. All I had to do was repeat her words.

Three fucking words!

“Shit.”

“Yeah, shit. Now, he gets it.” Michael shook his head, his lips thinning. “Sometimes you remind me of my children. You can be so clueless.”

“How do I fix this?”

“Be prepared to grovel. A lot. Relax. You fucked up, but it’s not the end of the world. She’s dodging your calls because she’s pissed.” Michael’s wicked laughter sent a jolt up my spine. “Maybe she’s finding someone who’ll love her back.”

“Shut the hell up.”

“You deserve this, Alessio.”

I bowed my head into my hands. “I know.”

“Buddy, it’s not hopeless.” He patted my shoulder, softening. “I’ll help you find her.”

“I can’t believe I did this to myself.”

Michael squeezed me and opened the front door, beckoning to the soldier in the street. “You need to watch my kids for a bit.”

My phone shrieked with a call.

I grabbed the cell and answered. “Mia?”

“No, it’s Vinn. I have your wife.”