Page 93 of Tempting My Mafia Monster

“You. And my little sister?”

The laughter stopped immediately. Nolan froze. Riley said my name.

I was already lunging at him.

Whiskey In Sunlight

I’d quickly come to realise that stubbornness and determination were a genetic Moriarty trait.

“Not him, Riley.”

She gave me an exasperated look. This wasn’t the first time we’d had this conversation in the past few days. I also refused to call her Lauren, but she hadn’t fought me on that. Nolan, however, was another matter.

“I love you, Maddox. But being my brother and blood doesn’t entitle you to tell me who I can and can’t date. I’m twenty-nine and can make my own decisions.”

“Not decisions. Mistakes. He’s a McKenna,” I spat, shoving the plate of food she’d prepared away from me.

“Not anymore,” she argued, taking a bite of her lunch. I ground my teeth and stared up at the ceiling. “People can change. Give him a chance, Maddox. Has he not proved himself?”

“I’ll never trust a McKenna.”

“He’s not a McKenna! His heart is too good! He’s wanted out of that life for years. He stayed only for you.”

“You deserve better.”

“Probably,” she smirked.

“Definitely.”

“I love him.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ.”

“He makes me happy.”

I stood up and took my plate into the tiny kitchen of the two-bedroom apartment we had been sharing for over a week. Resting my hands on the tiled countertop, I dropped my head to my chest.

“Please, just give him a chance. For me?”

I scoffed, shaking my head. “Do you seriously trust him, Riley?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Because he knows you’d kill him if he ever hurt me or broke my heart. That’s the best insurance there is.”

She had a point. I turned around and folded my arms across my chest. She cocked her head to the side with a cheeky smile. Riley had always been the wilder twin. That she was the only sibling who had survived Sean didn’t surprise me. She had Da’s fire and Mam’s strength.

I licked my lips as unease surfaced. I’d been wanting to ask about her upbringing, but I wasn’t sure I really wanted to know. I couldn’t handle it if she’d been mistreated.

“Do you… remember? Before?” I asked. Her smile slipped, and she looked down at the table.

“Not much. I remember the feelings more than the events or the faces. I remember feeling loved. By our parents. By you. I remember feeling happy.”

I nodded, glad she remembered only a little. It was better that way. “And after?”

She exhaled. “A bit of a blur. I was sad for a long time. I knew something really bad had happened to me, but I didn’t remember the details. I didn’t know why I was suddenly alone or with a new family. I was confused. I grew up quite angry with the world. My mother put me in therapy. Things improved after that.”