I Married a Mob Boss by Shandi Boyes

Author:Shandi Boyes [Boyes, Shandi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Shandi Boyes

Chapter 21

Before I can comprehend the repercussions of my actions, I raise my hand and slap it hard across Rico's face. The callousness of my hit forces Rico's head to sling sideways and for my palm to set on fire. Nursing my injured hand, I push back from my seat and make a beeline for the double doors at the end of the room. My heart is walloping against my ribcage, and tears are looming in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I will not give anyone in this room the satisfaction of thinking they have made me upset.

My quick exit is halted when two large men block my path. When I try to sidestep them, they move back into my way. After exhaling a nerve-cleansing breath, I raise my eyes from their boot-covered feet to their faces. I gulp harshly when I see their furious scowls.

Bile creeps up my windpipe as the severity of the situation smacks into me. I just slapped a head honcho in a Russian mob in front of his goons. Can I be any more stupid?

I grimace when one of the wide-shouldered goons grabs the tops of my arms. His hold is so rough, panic zips through my system as fragments of my past clash with my present. Flashes of being grabbed in the alleyway momentarily daze me, but when the goon shakes me—knocking my back molars together—my fighter instincts kick in. I claw at him viciously and thrash out my legs, not willing to go down without a fight for the second time.

My battle seems to irritate him more. He firms his clutch, and the redness lining his face intensifies.

The massive brute's fingers only stop digging into my bicep when a deep voice from behind me growls, "Let her go!"

Rico’s voice is so gravelly, it shakes my heart right out of my chest. Cranking my neck back, I watch him stand from his chair and urgently stride towards me. His gaze is fierce, and it sets my pulse racing.

When the goon fails to acknowledge his request, Rico snarls, “This is your last warning. Get your hands off my wife before I slit your throat and watch your body shiver as you take your last breath!”

I barely hear the collective gasps of the patrons seated at the dining table over the ringing of my pulse in my ears. Rico’s eyes show his threat is not idle; he fully intends on following through with his pledge if the goon doesn’t adhere to his warning. His whole composure is dangerous and menacing, and it sends my heart rate skyrocketing. His gaze is so toxic, the henchman drops his hands and takes a retreating step, his pupils large, his eyes wide. He looks even more frightened than I do.

After speaking to the two gentlemen accosting me in a deep Russian tone, Rico curls his arm around my sweat-slicked back and guides me out of the room. Friction plagues the air, making it hard for me to breathe, while also adding nicks to my already damaged heart.

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