Betraying the Mob (The Mob Lust Series Book 3)

by Kristen Luciani

  Especially Nico. He keeps shit pretty close to the vest unless he absolutely needs to let people in on it. He’s gotten fucked in the past for letting too many people in on things, and now he protects his information like it’s his kid.

  He doesn’t take chances. Not anymore.

  It’s not worth the risks.

  I know he probably thinks I’m overreacting. It wouldn’t be the first time, either. But this isn’t about me rescuing my reputation and showing those assholes in the family that I can do more than beat the shit out of people. This is about a nagging feeling I have in my gut that will not go away…the kind that tells me there is trouble ahead for us. Mikey pretty much confirmed that on Thanksgiving. He grabbed Layla to tell us he can get in close when he wants to. But since I have nothing but a prick contractor as evidence of a problem, nobody wants to hear about it.

  The other nagging feeling, the one I continue failing to report to Nico, is the one about my father.

  He’s here and then he’s not.

  And he was the first person to blow off my suspicion about Moretti being on the take for someone else.

  Clue number one that I’m on to something big. I may not have the business sense that Nico does, but I can see shady shit pretty damn clearly when it’s happening in front of my face.

  And when I figure it out…because I fucking will…I have no idea how the hell I’m gonna fix it.

  And the voice inside of my head picks that moment to speak up.

  You know exactly how to fix it.

  You just don’t want to be the one to pull the trigger.

  Sloane

  I walk out of the hospital, exhausted, blinking in the bright sunlight. My back is stiff, my hair probably needs a crazy intense wash, and my feet…holy crap. Walking hurts. Every time my foot hits the pavement, I wince. Pins and needles…how did they even have a chance to form since I’ve literally been on my feet for the past twelve hours, other than the few bathroom breaks I took?

  I pull out my messy bun, letting my hair fall over my shoulders. It doesn’t matter. I’ll be in the shower soon enough. I tug my coat tighter around me since there’s a biting chill in the air. The more steps I take, the more convinced I am that a hot bath is what I need. Screw standing. I’m tired of standing.

  I shade my eyes with a hand and peer into the parking lot. Where the heck did I even park? I can’t remember. I lose all track of time when I work a few days in a row, and truth be told, I’d have to really think about what day it is.

  “You look a little lost for someone who practically lives here.”

  I swallow a gasp and jump. “Max! What the heck are you doing here?” I squint at him. “Do you even know what time it is?”

  He grins. “I do. I’ve been waiting for a long time for you. I thought you got off at seven, but I didn’t realize that meant seven in the morning.”

  I furrow my brow. “You’ve been here in the parking lot since last night?” Why won’t the cobwebs clear?

  “Not quite. Although, would that impress you?”

  I narrow my eyes. “Since sleep is such a commodity for me, I’d say no, that if you waited for me for twelve hours when you could be home in bed, you’d need to have your head examined.”

  “You wouldn’t be flattered at all?”

  “Was that your plan? To impress me?”

  “Not quite.”

  “So why are you here?” I need coffee. Massive amounts of coffee. There is something happening here, and dammit, I just can’t figure it out.

  “I want to take you to breakfast.”

  I run a hand through my hair, and my eyes widen. Holy shit. My hair! My greasy, grimy, frizzy hair! “Shit,” I mutter, my brain finally deciding to wake up. “I’m, um, not exactly presentable enough to eat in public.”

  “You look gorgeous. You look like a woman who’s spent the last twelve hours of her life helping people in need. I can’t imagine anything sexier.”

  A hot flush creeps up the sides of my face. “Thanks, but I, um, I don’t really think—”

  “I don’t want you to think.” He inches closer, his heated stare causing my knees to wobble against each other. “I just want you to join me for breakfast.” He pulls open the passenger side door of his truck, and I slide inside, sinking into the pebbled leather seat.

  “You know, I’m not really sure how to take this version of Maximo Oriani.” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

  Max closes my door and jogs around to the other side, opening the door. “What are you talking about? I’m just being my normal, charming self.” He flops into the seat and guns the engine.

  “Your ‘normal, charming self’ is actually kind of moody. And confrontational. And shut down.”

  “I’m not allowed to have a bad day? Or month?” A teasing smile lifts his lips. I lock my knees together, fighting the urge to crush my own lips to his right now. In fact, the only thing that stops me is the fact that I need to brush my teeth. Badly.

  “You’re entitled.” I shrug. “I know you’re human. Well, at least I think that’s the case. Most of the time.”

  He clutches a hand to his heart and puts the car in Drive. “That hurts, Sloane. After I bore my soul to you the other night?”

  “Look, don’t get me wrong. I’m glad you’re opening up, but like I said, we’ve gone down this path before. Sue me if I’m still a little gun shy.”

  “You weren’t shy at all the other night.”

  I swallow hard. No. I wasn’t. I should have played a little harder to get, darn it. Instead, I was a complete whore for him, and I’d do it again in a hot second if given the chance. “I just can’t figure you out, Max.” And quite honestly, I’m afraid to even try.

  “Sometimes I can’t figure me out either,” he muses, maneuvering the car out of the parking lot.

  “Imagine how the rest of us feel.” I comb my fingers through my hair and cringe at the texture. I am so gross right now. How am I sitting here, even thinking about showing my face in public?

  “You’re pretty funny, you know that?”

  I snicker. “Well, I’ve had to entertain you a lot recently. Luckily, you appreciate my brand of humor.”

  “Trust me, it’s not the only thing I appreciate.”

  My breath hitches. Dammit, why can’t I just keep it together? Why do I have to fall more in love with every cute thing he says? Who even knows if there’s anything behind it? And a tiny part of me is just waiting for him to bail out on the benefit. It’s too real for him. He always flaked out when things got too real…and that’s when I’d be left with the shattered heart.

  Not him, me.

  There always seemed to be a line of dipshit girls with porn-star bodies waiting around for their chance to take him for a test drive. It never went farther than that, but it still singed my insides every time I’d see one or two or three of them draped all over him.

  I’m not over all of that. I want to be, but his grip on me is more like a chokehold.

  Today, I’m his sanity.

  Tomorrow, who knows what he’ll need?

  Or whom he’ll beat to a pulp?

  Pete’s bruised face flashes in front of my eyes, and my stomach churns.

  “Look, Sloane, I know I messed things up between us before, and I get why you’re not ready to strip down for me right here and now. I don’t deserve it.”

  I roll my eyes at him and let out a deep sigh. “So what’s changed, Max? What makes this the right time? Because the way I see it, your priorities haven’t changed. ‘Business’ is at the top. It always has been. It’s why things fell apart between us years ago, the first time we tried to do something about...” I wave my hands around. “Whatever this thing between us is. You’d get a call or a text and just leave me in the lurch. I never got the courtesy of an explanation. And I don’t even want to go back to what happened on Thanksgiving, the second time things blew up between us. You’d offer some lame, evasive excuse, and that’s not what I’m looking for. I want more. I want s
omeone who puts me first. Can you even do that?” Jesus, those words definitely woke my ass up. I didn’t even realize they’d tumbled from my mouth until it was too late. I take a deep breath. They’d been buried for far too long. And whatever his reaction turns out to be, at least I’ll know I was finally honest with him.

  He should have heard all of that a long time ago, but better late than never.

  I stare out the windshield. I don’t know if I want to see his reaction to all of that. It may mean this is over…not that we ever really got started.

  “Sloane, my business…it’s really important to me. I have a lot of responsibilities, and my actions impact a lot of people.”

  “That’s great,” I snap. “My ‘business’ is really important to me, too, but I want more out of life than just pride in my work. I take care of tons of people, and I’m damn good at it, but it’s not my whole life.”

  “That’s the thing, Sloane.” He pulls into the parking lot of a nearby diner and swings the car into an empty spot. Actually, they’re all empty at this hour. “This job is my life. I didn’t ask for it to be, and I don’t always love it, but I was grandfathered into it. I don’t have the luxury of choosing a different career path. This is it for me.” He cups my chin and turns my face toward him. “But I have this problem…”

  I grit my teeth, trying so hard to be angry with him, to hate him so that I can preserve my fragile heart. But his dark eyes beckon me, drawing me into their depths where I know I can so easily and blissfully float away without a second thought. “What would that be?”

  “You,” he murmurs, his fingertips stroking the side of my face. “You’re the problem. I know I should stay away, but I just can’t.”

  I hate him. I have to hate him! But God, I really hate that I can’t stop myself from falling more in love with him right now.

  I’m so done. Sucked in. Completely captivated.

  And let’s not forget royally screwed.

  My eyes float closed. I don’t even know who he is…really and truly. He throws me a few crumbs, and I lick them up, wishing and praying for more until he shuts down, like he always does. I know what comes next, but it’s always devastating.

  Why do I put myself through this?

  He continues to caress my face with his fingers, his breath like feathers fluttering against my cheek. “Max,” I whisper.

  “Yeah?”

  “I…” My eyes float open. “I can’t be cast aside again. I’m not your toy, something you play with for a little while until you get bored of it and go out looking for something more exciting.”

  “Okay, first, I could never get bored playing with you.” He smirks, tracing the outline of my jaw. “And second, I’m open to playing with toys and any other kinky shit you’re into. Just so we’re on the same page.”

  I swat at his arm. “I’m not joking around.”

  “Neither am I.”

  We stare at each other for a few seconds and a loud rumbling noise comes from under my oversized coat. I clap a hand over my mouth to stifle the giggle.

  “Good thing there’s a diner right here.” He winks at me and turns off the car.

  My shoulder deflate as the sigh expels from my body. He jumps out of the car and runs around to my side, letting me out. I gaze up at him. “I want to believe that you’re really in this.”

  “I am.” He leans toward me, pressing my back against the car, his hands on either side of me. “I’m trying to be the guy you need, Sloane. Really trying.”

  “Should it be that much of an effort?”

  “No,” he murmurs. “It shouldn’t. But it is. For me, it just is. And if you’re okay with that, then I’d like to get you something to eat before you gnaw off your own arm.”

  I fold my arms. “Okay. But I’m only saying this because the hunger has effectively wiped out any rational thoughts I may have convincing me to run in the opposite direction.”

  “Good.” He laces his fingers with mine, and we walk into the diner. It’s empty, save for the hostess and a waitress who is making coffee. Such a beautiful sight!

  Although, once my mind is fully awake, I may realize what the hell I just agreed to.

  I breathe in Max’s spicy scent.

  Screw it. I know what I’m doing.

  Kind of.

  The hostess leads us to a table in the back and hands us menus. I flip mine open and my mouth waters at the pictures of fluffy pancakes, crispy bacon, and decadent chocolate croissants.

  “So what looks good?” he asks me.

  “Um, everything?” I giggle. “I think the last thing I ate was a single Baked Lays chip five hours ago. The I had to run down to X-Ray to pick up a patient. One of the other nurses, my friend Jules, finished the bag for me. Wasn’t that sweet of her?”

  “Well, if you’d finished that bag, maybe you wouldn’t have been as willing to come here with me and I’d be sitting here by myself, ready to devour the place alone.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that. The hostess hasn’t been able to drag her eyes away from you since we walked in. I’m pretty sure she’d have loved to keep you company.”

  Max grins at me. “Would that have made you jealous?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Good.”

  A loud ping comes from Max’s pocket, and he pulls out his phone. He stares at the screen without saying a word, but the smile that had appeared so quickly is gone just as fast. His eyes darken, lips stretch into a thin line.

  “Is something wrong?”

  He doesn’t answer right away. He grips the phone tight in his hands, his fingertips white. It looks like he’s trying to swallow something down, like there’s something deep inside of him looking to get out but he won’t let it. His entire body tenses, and I’m not even sure if he’s breathing. His eyes are still locked on the screen, shoulders squared.

  “Max?” I reach out to graze his forearm and his eyes shoot up spewing fire. The last time I saw that glare was when he ran into Shaye at the mall talking to her psychology professor, and accused her of cheating on Nico. I thought he was going pummel the poor guy. It had been a long time since I’d seen that crazed look in his eye. It probably should have made me run in the opposite direction, but I stayed.

  And even after what I heard that guy Pete grunt into his phone, I still got into Max’s car this morning. I still slid into a booth with him at this diner. I still never confronted him.

  So here we are. Me and Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde.

  “Can you tell me what’s wrong?” I ask when he doesn’t answer.

  “No,” he mutters, raking a hand through his hair. “I can’t.”

  A tiny part of me is relieved. If he doesn’t admit to anything, it can’t be real. Or at least, that’s what I want to believe. “Okay.” I close my menu and take a deep breath, silently berating myself for letting him avoid the question. No, screw that! “You know it helps when both people actually contribute to a conversation. Like, I ask you a question and you answer it, then—”

  “Sloane, do you realize how much shit I need to keep to myself every day? It is literally life or death if I don’t.”

  My eyes widen. “Did someone…?”

  “No.”

  “Are we always going to play these games? And am I always going to have to be happy with whatever you decide is enough to tell me? Is that supposed to make me feel comfortable with your ‘business’ life?”

  “It may not make you feel comfortable, but it’s what I can offer.” His eyes take on an unfamiliar sadness. “It’s all I can offer.”

  “How am I supposed to feel good about that? Knowing that you can never be fully honest with me because someone might get hurt? Or killed?”

  “Don’t you understand that if I am fully honest, it can put you in danger?” He sighs. “You have to believe that I want to make this work. But just like you aren’t allowed to talk about your patients, I can’t talk about my…clients. Every business has its own rules.”

  “I don’t know if I can abide by
those rules.”

  I furrow my brow as a grimace twists Max’s face.

  “Nurse Sloane.”

  I nearly jump out of the booth when I hear my name. I twist around in the direction of the deep voice with the Brooklyn accent I’d become acquainted with a short time ago. “Oh, um, hi, uh…Gianni, right?”

  Gianni smiles at me, but not the kind of smile that says Hey, it’s so nice to see you again. It’s more the kind of smile that says I’m the kind of dude that’s gonna make your skin crawl. And it does.

  He peels his gaze off of me and targets Max with his beady eyes. “If it isn’t Maximo Oriani. It’s been a long time. A very long time.”

  “Not long enough,” Max grunts.

  “You look surprised to see me. I figured someone must have told you I was on my way out here.” Gianni walks closer to him. “I guess not.”

  “Must not have been important enough to mention,” Max shoots back.

  I swallow hard. What in the hell is going on here? They’re both eyeing each other like they want to tear each other’s heads off, and I may be the only thing stopping them. “Gianni,” I blurt out. “How’s your shoulder?”

  He places a hand over his sling. “Well, it looks like I won’t be playing much baseball in the next few months. Good thing I already had the game of my life.”

  I let out a nervous giggle. “I’m sure you’ll be good as new for the next season.”

  “Yep. I’ll be ready by then for sure. Until then, I think I’ll keep those Louisville Slugger bats in my trunk.” His eyes flicker back to Max. “You know, Oriani, life doesn’t begin and end with baseball. I may be down, but I ain’t out. Not by a long shot. You get the joke, right?” Gianni slowly reaches into his jacket, and before I can even blink, Max grabs a fork off the table and shoots up from the pleather-cushioned booth, his arm around Gianni’s neck. The fork is about half an inch away from Gianni’s carotid artery, and a tingling sensation in my left arm indicates that I am damn-close to having a panic attack.

  “Max!” I gasp, leaping out of the seat. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Gianni lets out a dry laugh and drops a card onto the table. “Always ready to plug someone. Some things never change.”