Relentless Renegade: A Mafia Romance (The Mancini Crime Family Series Book 3) by Lily J. Adams

Author:Lily J. Adams [Adams, Lily J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-10-02T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve: She's Had Enough

Angelina

I couldn't just stand here any longer. One of those bastards held up a knife to my uncle's throat because I refused to give them the ‘protection money’ we supposedly owed them. Dirty, rotten scumbags. Would it kill them to make an honest living? Probably.

“Uncle, we shouldn't just surrender our hard-earned money to those vermin.” I pushed my hair back. I knew no matter what I said, Uncle wouldn't change his mind. He was determined not to make waves and live the life of a simple business owner. I wanted to scream in his face because he was willing to have those bastards roll over him. This man had taught me how to fight when I was a girl.

Even after my uncle handed them a stack of hundred-dollar bills, one of them still punched him in the face and hurt my sister, Lucia. They said the five thousand dollars we gave them wasn't enough, especially since we could afford expensive billboards.

“I can find out who those guys are,” Marco offered in a conciliatory tone. “If they're hassling you for protection money, I can stop them.”

I scoffed. I knew he was just trying to help, but it annoyed me that he was witnessing how pitiful my family and I were. “How are you going to do that? Aren't you an investment banker?”

He dropped his gaze to the ground for a moment as his cheeks turned red. With a chagrined smile, he shook his head. “Like I've told you before, people tend to be very nice to the guy who holds the cash.”

I had already figured out the Mancinis were very important people in this town. That cop Lopez had looked at Marco like he was some kind of celebrity and treated him with deference. The Mancinis were big, but were they also gangsters?

Though it made me sick to my stomach, I decided to push aside my suspicions for the time being. After all, when you're hanging by your fingers at the edge of a cliff, you'd grab even the blade of a knife just to pull yourself up.

I looked around the restaurant we'd struggled so hard to build and maintain, visually inventoried the destruction, and clenched my fists at my sides. “I want to file a police report,” I reiterated to my uncle.

He gave me a pained expression. “What's the use, Lina? Don't you remember that one of them is a cop?” my uncle said in Italian. “He's got connections that we don't. You'll just aggravate matters further. Now be a good girl and leave these problems to me.”

“So we're just going to bend over and take it in the meantime?” I responded in Italian because I didn't want Marco to know what we were talking about.

“Let me help, please,” Marco interjected fluently in our language.

Merda. I'd forgotten he knew how to speak Italian. I rubbed my face vigorously in frustration, then refocused on my uncle. “You can stay here and cower under a table, but I'm tired of these dirty gangsters taking advantage of us.

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