Page 55 of Tempting My Mafia Monster

And then Monster said the one word my heart had hoped he wouldn’t, but my mind knew he would.

“Deal.”

Monster didn’t come back to the bunker with me after that. Sean ordered Nolan to escort me back and told Monster to stay behind to discuss training for the fight. Even when I physically protested, reaching out for Monster to come with me, he kept his back to me, refusing to look my way. He let Nolan take me. He stayed behind.

I’d lost him to his darkness. I’d lost him to his grief. I’d lost him.

I paced the four walls of the bunker for most of the night. My eyes were puffy, stinging and red-rimmed from crying and lack of sleep, but my nervous system was too wired to let me rest.

I needed to speak to Monster. See him. Hold him, kiss him, and bring him back to me. I needed to explain what really happened between Callum and Santino. I had to beg him to spare my brother’s life.

Monster had no mercy for anyone but me. He said so himself. But killing my brother, my best friend, would kill me too. I had to believe he knew that and cared enough about me not to go through with it. But I also knew the darkness in him would never let this go. It would demand vengeance.

When the hatch opened and the breakfast tray slid across the floor, I knew it was morning. I refused to touch the food. Instead, I took a freezing shower, slipped into one of his hoodies, and curled up in bed to wait. Hours. Another tray. Then another.

Panic set in as the second night crawled by in silence. Even with the thick duvet wrapped around me, my body convulsed with shivers and my mind refused to drift off to sleep. I couldn’t sleep without him. Without his warmth, his soft breathing at the base of my neck, or the heavy arm curled over my waist. The worry about where he was, what he was doing, and whether he was okay was crippling.

By morning, the pillow Monster had risked his life for, just to give me some comfort, was damp with my tears. The overwhelming feelings of abandonment were sinking into my bones, and with them came a fresh wave of panic. What if he didn’t come back before the fight took place? Only one man would leave that fight breathing.

Santino was vicious when he needed to be. Alessio, who had grown up in the underground cage-fighting scene, had taught him to fight bare-knuckle from the age of ten. Gio had taught him the many ways to kill a man with his bare hands. Santino loved to fight. He took joy in making another man bleed. If it were anyone else facing him, I’d back my brother as the victor every time. But Monster… he was a machine. Indestructible. Even injured, he fought better than anyone else I’d ever seen. I couldn’t even imagine how he would fight when it was for his own vengeance. Santino wouldn’t stand a chance.

What if the next time I see Monster, it’s already too late?

Kill Me Softly

The physical pain in my chest was intensifying with every passing hour. By lunchtime, I was slamming my fists against the steel door, screaming in agony at the unknown. Either way, if this fight went ahead, I’d lose a man I love.

I slid down the door and crumpled at that realisation. I love him. I’d fallen in love with Monster.

I thought I might have loved M, but I knew nothing. I was in love with the idea of M, not the man himself. Because I had never felt like this, like I couldn’t breathe without him.

Before Monster, I spent my life going through the motions. Doing everything expected of me, smiling at the right moments, taking up hobbies, composing, nursing, and caring for Mamma. I did it all because I wanted to, but also because I was content enough. Comfortable enough. I never asked for more because I didn’t want to burden anyone. It was easier to be detached from my life. That’s the thing about numbness. It’s very quiet. You just get used to it. You stop expecting to feel differently or for anything to change. You adjust to whatever life throws your way and let the feelings go. You stay realistic.

I wasn’t that person anymore. He’d ruined all of that for me. From the moment I first saw him, I was forced to confront who I really was. He made me feel everything. And it’s not comfortable. It’s not the kind of love that slowly seeps into your skin. It’s sharp, terrifying, and exhilarating, and… and… it feels like I’m falling off the edge of the most beautiful cliff; my stomach’s turning, but I’m laughing because it’s so freeing. And there’s no bottom. I knew I’d be falling forever.

I was picking at my dinner, pushing the food around the plate absentmindedly as I stared at the jigsaw we’d finished together. Heavy footsteps echoed down the stairs. I dropped the cutlery and twisted in my chair, with my heart in my throat. It was him. I didn’t know how I knew, but I sensed his presence before the door even opened.

He stood in the doorway with his head lowered. Those few seconds of hesitation deepened the ache in my chest. He walked in, his gaze fixed on his boots, and waited for the door to shut behind him.

And then he slowly lifted his head.

Tears sprang to my eyes at the sight of him. On the outside, he looked like the man I had first met the night I was thrown down here. Lethal, angry and cold. Maybe more pumped and solid, as if he’d just walked out of an aggressive gym session, but his eyes were pitch-black. The hard lines of his face could cut glass. His knuckles were raw and scabbed. And his aura… God, it was dark. He was completely closed off.

He met my gaze and… nothing. He looked right through me, then marched over to his bed, sat on the edge, and pulled out his cigarettes from the drawer. My lips trembled. I felt bile rise as I stared at his battered hands. He placed the cigarette between his lips, lit it, and tossed the lighter across the floor.

I glanced away and drew a painful breath as the first silent tears slid down my cheeks. I knew I had to ask, but I was terrified of the answer. Was the ground about to be ripped out from beneath my feet?

“Is it done?” My voice choked on the last word, as if it couldn’t bear the weight of what I was asking. I peered back at him, this man who had dismantled every wall I’d ever built simply by existing. He stared at the floor, elbows on his knees, and focused on smoking. “The fight? Has… it happened?”

Each second that passed felt like another stone added to the pile on my chest as I sat there, preparing myself to hear the worst thing I’d ever have to survive. To know that my favourite person might be dead at the hands of the man who owned my heart.

“No.” He didn’t look at me. “Not yet.”

Not yet.

“It’s tonight.”

My heart squeezed into desperate, rapid beats as I tried to keep it together. I closed my eyes tightly. The lifelong instinct to retreat somewhere else inside me to avoid the situation was powerful. But for the first time in my life, I knew I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t shut down and wish it away.