Maria groaned at the interruption. “Probably Natalia checking to see if we’re awake.” She nuzzled her nose against my neck, and my dick twitched. “We could pretend we don’t hear her?”
“We shouldn’t worry her.” And I need to behave.
Maria untangled herself from me and stood at the next knock. “I guess you’re right.”
“Give me a second and just stay in here,” I said while standing. “Unless you want your sister to see you wearing my shirt.”
She blushed and fidgeted with the loose tee, and then I forced myself to go to the foyer to face Natalia.
I wasn’t sure what I’d say to her after she’d witnessed my disastrous state last night, and I’d been an asshole, nearly begging her husband to fight me to release some steam.
I went to the door as the bell rang. I didn’t check the peephole, and why would I?
So, when I swung the door open, the last thing I expected to see was three masked men, one of them wielding a bat.
TEN
Enzo
I shot my forearm out, and the bat slammed against it instead of hitting my face, but the other two men charged me in one fast movement, which sent me backward into the foyer, and I lost my balance and hit the wall behind me.
Maria’s startled gasp distracted my focus, and I twisted around to see her too damn close to the danger. “Get in my bedroom.” The punch to the side of my head snapped my attention back to two of the assholes, and they came at me hard.
I snarled, took a knee, and sent my weight forward to grab hold of one of them. I flipped him to his back, then, on my knees, sent a side kick to the second prick’s abdomen.
Before either man had a chance to react, I pivoted to locate Maria, finding the man with the bat climbing on top of her. A bat to her throat. A hand on her thigh. And a death wish I was about to grant.
The two men grabbed hold of me before I could go to her, and I used all my strength and adrenaline to wrench myself free and take them down. I was at Maria’s side seconds later, kneeling by her as I peeled the fucker from her body.
I had him on his back and under me. Blows and elbows to the face before I circled my hands around his throat, choking the life from him.
Growling out curses in both English and Italian, I kept at it until Maria cried out, “Enzo,” just as something hard pressed against my temple. “Don’t shoot him, please,” she begged.
I went still, terror like I’d never known slicing through me at the idea there was a gun in the room with Maria. I loosened my hands on the man’s throat; he’d been moments from death.
“Let him go,” the man behind me said, but he had to be kneeling to have his weapon by my head, so I took a second to map out my plan and then lifted my hands, as if planning to surrender. I shifted in one fast movement as I’d been trained, and before he knew it, I had the 9mm in my hand instead.
He stumbled back, falling onto his ass in surprise.
“Who are you?” I barked out while standing. I stepped around the man on the floor and motioned for Maria to get behind me.
And then my world stopped when I saw Natalia walking into the living room with a gun to her back, hands in the air.
“Natalia.” Maria started around me, but I snatched her waist with my free hand, stopping her.
“We only came here for you,” the man standing behind Natalia said, eyes on me. “Hand over the gun and let my men come to me, and the women can go.”
I considered my options, and handing over the weapon wasn’t one of them. “And if you don’t want his brains all over my floor, you’ll lower your firearm,” I hissed, keeping my hold on Maria even though it seemed she was determined to trade herself for her pregnant sister.
Natalia shook her head as if in apology. “I had a craving.”
Fuck. She was letting me know Ryan wasn’t home, and he was probably buying breakfast.
“Come closer. We’ll trade,” the man offered, flicking his gloved hand.
“Who are you?” I asked again, doing my best to buy time. Calculate my options. And hope Ryan would soon show up and disarm that prick. I’d just been thinking we needed to move to a place with better security, and now this . . .
I checked on the man I’d nearly choked to death, finding him trying to army crawl away. And my gaze snapped to the familiar ink on the back of his neck. The triscele, a symbol of Sicily, was there—the head of a Gorgon with serpents wrapped around it. It was the insignia for the New York division of the Sicilian mafia.
“Mafioso?” I whispered in alarm, my body somehow feeling both hot and cold at the same time.