Page 67 of Tempting My Mafia Monster

Nothing would ever be okay again.

Because they hadn’t got me back. They’d left the most important part of me behind.

How was I supposed to survive without my heart?

Brotherly Love

Those Irish motherfuckers.

They’d pay for this. Every one of them. I’d make it my life’s mission to wipe them off the face of the Earth. Whether they hurt her, touched her, insulted her, watched her suffer, or turned away while it happened, it didn’t matter. Whatever role they played, no matter how small, they’d pay for breaking the strongest person I knew.

Rage didn’t even begin to capture what I was feeling as I held my sister tighter. She’d stopped crying hours ago, but the silence was worse. Travelling back to Italy with her had been hard on all of us. She went from hysterical crying and panic attacks to numbed silence. Thank God Aria was there to calm her, because Gio, Alessio and I were struggling to keep our own emotions in check.

We all wanted McKenna’s blood.

She hadn’t said a word. Not even to me. There was a vacancy in her bloodshot eyes I’d never seen before. She wouldn’t even let me hold her at first, fighting me off with flailing arms and legs. Only after she’d stopped screaming and crying, lying motionless on her side in her bed, did she let me climb in behind her and lie with her.

She was home, yet that hadn’t brought her any comfort. Nothing did.

Everyone kept saying she was probably in shock and just needed time to process what she’d been through, but I wasn’t convinced. There was something more to this. I knew Raya better than I knew myself. I knew how mentally strong she was and how hard she would have fought to protect a part of herself from them, no matter what they subjected her to. But this woman was broken to pieces in a way that left me completely helpless. I’d always been able to fix it. I was the only person who never failed to make her smile. But right now, I had no idea how I’d ever do it again.

A soft knock on the door made me lift my head from the pillow. Olivia poked her head around, her eyes filling with tears at the sight of us cuddling on the bed as we used to as children.

“The doctors are here. You need to get that wrist seen, Sani. I have a female doctor here for Soraya. I’ll stay with her.”

I gave a single nod and lifted my arm from my sister. “Raya?”

Nothing.

“The doctor is here. She’s going to check the cut on your face, okay? Liv will be with you. I’ll be back soon.”

Not even a blink.

I winced as I dragged myself upright, my battered body flaring with agony. Normally, I wouldn’t bother with professional medical care. A bottle of whiskey, a handful of painkillers and a blowjob would usually have me feeling back on top of the world. But that savage bastard I’d just fought had nearly killed me.

My stomach twisted as I remembered how he’d let me live, and how I’d made sure he didn’t.

It wasn’t guilt, exactly. I’d killed plenty of men before, with little to no remorse. But something about killing him felt wrong. He had me. Cristo, he’d destroyed me. Alessio was the only man who’d ever humbled me in a fight, but even he would have struggled against that fucker.

Everyone knew I was lucky to be alive. The question was… why was I alive? Why did he stop when victory was his to claim?

All I knew was that I had to win that fight. To free my sister and keep my wife safe, I had to kill that man. And when I saw him heading directly for her, adrenaline and protectiveness overpowered everything. I’d kill anyone for them, regardless of any mercy they might have shown me. When it came to my sister’s and my wife’s safety, nothing else mattered.

After my broken wrist was put in a cast, my cuts had been stitched, and I’d been given some pain relief for my broken ribs, I hobbled up to my brother’s office, needing to know what the plan was.

Alessio was standing by the window, staring over the immaculate lawns, while Gio was perched against his desk with his arms folded when I walked in without knocking.

“Has she talked yet?” Gio asked; his first concern was the same as mine. Raya.

“No,” I sighed, easing into a suede chair. “Pour me a whiskey, fratello.”

“You going to need a straw to drink it?” he teased, raising an eyebrow at my swollen face and fat lip. Gio lifted the crystal decanter from his desk, poured the whiskey into a glass, then leaned forward and handed it to me.

“I’ll manage. Otherwise, you can just hook me up to a drip and pump alcohol into me. Either way, I need it.”

“You might look like shit,” he said, resting his hand on my shoulder. “But cazzo, I’m glad you’re alive. You had me worried for a second.”

“I had it completely under control,” I lied, which made him smirk. “But seriously, who the hell was that fighter?”