“I am not a prisoner,sir.”
“I swear, you will drive me crazy, Matilde."
"Come faccio?I do not drive you anywhere!"
It takes me a moment and then it's everything I can do not to burst out laughing. This girl. "After everything you went through, you put yourself at risk-”
“You do not care about that! You-”
“We’re at war, goddammit! Do you have a fucking clue what that means?”
Alessio sheltered his sister. I expected no less. He’s chosen to shield the bodyguard, too. I suspected he would. It left me with little choice. I would’ve lost the respect of my underbosses and captains if I had backed down during that meeting. I can’t have my strength questioned this early in my reign. My family would never be safe.
I’d thought we might intercept a few drug shipments or some such shit and then sit down again once Barzetti’s stopped bleating about Ritchie and settle things, Capo to Capo. It’s what Vicini wants, too.
But Dante… my fucking reckless, devil of a brother, has complicated things in a major way. As soon as Alessio finds out, he’ll come at us with everything he’s got. My territory must be strong and ready. It’s no time for trips to the movies.
“I know what mafia war means,” she huffs.
“Were many battles fought on your little sheep farm?”
She defiantly lifts her chin. It always surprises me how she doesn’t shy away from looking me in the eye when most women and even many men avoid it. “Primo was with me. He can protect me.”
I despise hearing her say his name, especially when she won’t use mine. “Primo is lucky I don’t slit his throat right now.” The privacy screen is down, and the car swerves. “If you wreck, I’ll peel off every last one of your fingernails and toenails with a pair of pliers, boy.”
With an audible gulp, Primo turns his attention back to his driving.
“Sei uno stronzo,”Matilde mutters under her breath.
“I’m an asshole? I’m trying to protect you, you little brat.”
“Protect me? Are you going to protect me the same way you protected…”
Her lips snap together, but I know what she was thinking. “The same way I protected my wife, is that what you were going to say?” I growl, utterly furious. And ashamed.
She pales, quickly shaking her head. “No, that is not what I… I know you could not stop… I did not mean-”
“I would advise you to be quiet before I turn you over my knee for breaking my rules.”
I can practically see the translated words registering in her pretty head. Her face goes from ghostly pale to cherry pink, and she stares back at me with her mouth hanging open, her plump lips forming a perfect O. Fuck me, if the mere sight doesn’t make me want to follow through on that threat.
***
I swore to myself after killing Sil, Jr. and what it meant for my little sister that I would never let wrath guide my actions again. Even Margareta with her sharp claws and annoying games never succeeded in provoking me. Perhaps that was another reason she hated me. I simply didn’t care.
So how is it that Matilde manages to rile me up with such ease?
I exhale slowly when we reach the house, struggling to harness my temper. The last thirty minutes of tense silence while sitting in traffic beside a flushed Matilde would test any man’s limits. She’s infuriating. And too fucking tempting by far.
Primo jumps out of the driver’s seat like it’s on fire, waiting for orders, but my little mutineer isn’t finished pushing boundaries. “Matilde, get out.”
“I want to go home. I study for class.” She folds her arms over her chest as if it’s decided.
"Fuck this." I reach in and grab her, ignoring her shriek of protest as I hoist her over my shoulder. She’s strong, a farm girl who’s not afraid to fight back, but she’s no match for me. I carry her inside with Primo mutely following.
The other guard who drove my car is smirking at the spectacle as he opens the front door. Oh, that will not do. “Both of you, wait right here,” I tell the men as we step inside.
Still carrying a wriggling Matilde, I drag a chair from the sitting room into the foyer and place it in the corner. “Naughty girls get time-out,” I say, plopping her down in it.
