Bad Boy: A Dark Standalone Mafia Romance (Valetti Crime Family) by Willow Winters

Author:Willow Winters [Winters, Willow]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub, mobi
Published: 2016-08-29T00:00:00+00:00

Anthony

Rigs, Vince’s giant ass lab, is lying pathetically on the floor begging. He’s a good-looking dog. I look to Vince and say, “See, told you the kids would ruin him. He’s a biscuit-begging mutt now.”

Vince shakes his head and my brother laughs, taking another drink of his beer. All the women are in the living room with the kids. Usually Rigs goes where the kids go, but we’re still in the dining room, and so is the food. Smart dog.

“He was so fucking good before the kids. You could drop a steak a foot from his face and he wouldn’t move,” Vince jokes, and we all have a laugh even though he’s shaking his head.

“God, the kids. Cockblocking and dog ruining,” Tommy says with his hands over his eyes. He’s worn the fuck out with the little ones. But he still says it with a smile.

“Gotta love ‘em though,” Vince answers.

“I need another beer,” Tommy says with a touch of humor.

“Grab me one, too?” I ask him. He gives me a nod and heads out. Vince gets up from his seat to pour more Jack in his glass.

As soon as no one’s looking, I give the dog the last meatball from my plate. He swallows it down so fucking fast there’s no way he even tasted it. I chuckle at him and watch him lift his head up higher so he can see what’s left up here. Greedy ass dog.

Vince takes the head seat again and leans back with his glass at his lips. When he looks at me this time, there’s tension surrounding us. I know what it’s about, too. I’ve been waiting for it.

“We gotta talk, Anthony,” he says.

Tommy makes his way back with the beers and passes me one. I don’t want him in here for this though. I don’t want him to know about Catherine. She’s my secret. She’s mine. I wish even Vince didn’t know. It kills me that he does. Even worse is that I know he doesn’t understand.

“Hey, bro, could you give us a minute?” I ask Tommy as I pop the cap off my beer. He looks between me and Vince with a touch of confusion, but nods his head with a bit of a frown.

“Everything good?” he asks. He’s always worrying about me. He always has.

Vince and I both nod as I answer, “Yeah, I just need a minute.”

“Suit yourselves,” he says, grabbing a bun off the table. He whistles at Rigs and the dog bounds off after him, wagging his tail.

“You need to take care of her,” Vince says the second Tommy’s out of earshot.

“See the thing is, I am taking care of her, Vince. We had a deal.” I put my beer down and lock eyes with him. “I paid, and she’s mine.”

“They seem to think otherwise.” He says the words as though them backing out is acceptable.

“That’s their fault. They made an assumption. They were wrong.”

“They give us almost thirty percent of the income from the hits, Anthony. Your income.

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