Page 61 of Tempting My Mafia Monster

“I–er—Boss, I wouldn’t recommend a sudden increase in dosage.” His voice shook slightly, as if he feared his words might prompt the vicious dog to bite. “The formula has been managed very carefully over a number of years. His body has been gradually conditioned to incremental increases. A sudden doubling could have consequences we can’t fully predict. This is an unregulated compound—we don’t have clinical data on what happens when—”

“Did I ask for a clinical report?”

Sean’s voice hadn’t risen or sharpened. It had gone terrifyingly quiet.

The doctor closed his mouth, swallowed, and shook his head. “No, Boss.”

“Good. Then we understand each other.”

I looked at Maddox. He was already watching me. His obsidian eyes held mine, and I felt the connection flood through me. The words didn’t need to leave our lips. The silent conversation was already there.

He doesn’t care if this kills you, Maddox. As long as you win him the fight.

I know.

I can’t sit back and let this happen. I can’t lose you both.

I know that, too.

My eyes watered. He looked away.

The shipyard sat on the edge of Marseille’s old port district, long abandoned and littered with empty containers and rundown warehouses. From the outside, the building we were being dragged towards looked like nothing important. Corrugated walls eaten through by erosion, with broken glass littering the ground. I peered up at the skeletal, rusting cranes looming above against the night sky, the moon peeking through misty clouds. I drew in a breath tainted with the overpowering smell of oil and saltwater and tried not to trip over my feet, very aware that the fabric around my thigh was loosening with every step. That knife was the only control I had.

But I was running out of time.

With my hands tied in front of me and my body sandwiched between Nolan and another Irish soldier, panic was mounting. Sean was too far ahead. There were too many McKenna soldiers. Maddox was restrained and leashed, guarded by four of them. There was no opportunity to attack and make it count.

We slipped through a back door and were led into an empty room that stank of bleach, sweat and metal. They guided me to a wall and forced me to stand against it as Nolan stayed by my side. Men moved around the room in clipped motions, all with their own tasks. The doctor was loading the syringe; soldiers were tying wraps around Maddox’s hands and torso to support his ribs, and Sean and Oscar were barking orders, their Irish accents thick with adrenaline.

In the middle of it all, Maddox stood like a statue, his ankles chained, his wrists bound, the gold chain cutting into his throat as an Irish soldier kept the leash taut.

He hadn’t looked at me once since the plane journey. But all I could see was him.

Beautiful. Terrifying. Mine.

The doctor stepped forward with a large syringe filled with a double dose of thick, dark liquid. His eyes flicked to Sean for approval. He wouldn’t dare make the mistake of advising against it again. Sean dipped his chin, and tears pricked behind my eyes. The last time they injected him with that stuff, I watched Maddox fade, and Monster take twelve lives without mercy. Doubling the dosage was signing my brother’s death certificate, denying him a fighting chance.

“Stop!” I screamed, forcing the word up my throat. Everyone froze at the sound of my voice. Sean’s eyes narrowed, and a slight tug lifted the corner of his mouth. “B-before you inject him, let me say goodbye properly. Please.”

Maddox threw his head back and stared at the ceiling, his jaw clenched tightly. Sean took a step towards me, cocking his head as his gaze ran over me with intrigue.

“I had my suspicions when I heard you whisper Callum’s name in that meeting,” he said, each step of his shiny black shoes echoing off the walls. I lifted my chin. Only two more steps, and he’d be within reach. He stopped. “You’ve been playin’ mouse. Think you’re a clever little thing, don’t yeh? Your silence saved you. But you’ve just realised it won’t save your brother. Nothin’ will. But I do like to hear you beg.”

I swallowed, pulling against the handcuffs. “I know it’s too late to save him. Please.” It wasn’t hard to force tears to my eyes. I lifted my arms towards him, trying to beckon him forward again. “Uncuff me and let me hug him. One more time, before all you make me feel is hate for him.”

Sean smirked, loving the idea of that. “It’s cute that you’d think I care about your feelin’s, Princess. Or that you’re in a position to make such demands.”

“The Bratva have arrived,” Oscar announced to the room.

My heart rate spiked. The Russians had come to watch the fight as if it were entertainment and then take their promised bride? Bile rose in my throat. Sean stepped back, and my stomach dropped with the last of my hope to kill the bastard before the fight. With one last smirk at me and a nod towards Maddox, Sean stormed out of the room with Oscar and half his men, leaving the doctor and the eight soldiers guarding Maddox and me behind.

The doctor stepped forward again but stopped in his tracks when Maddox lowered his head and glared at him. He turned, and those dark eyes finally found mine.

“C’mere.”

The command was quiet. Still, every man shifted uneasily at the sound of it, wondering who would dare to intervene.

I took a step forward. Nolan’s grip on my bicep halted me. I looked back at him, pleading. His green eyes flicked to Maddox, then back to me. He exhaled and let me go, following me ‌one step behind as I crossed the room on shaky legs.