Owned by the Italian Mafia Don: A Dark Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance (Possessive Mafia Kings Book 2)
Owned by the Italian Mafia Don: Chapter 12

Rosie seems a little green around the gills as she stares at my shoulder. She’s handling it better than I thought. She’s also very quiet now on the way home. She’s crying though, her cheeks wet with tears.

“I knew you cared,” I tease, wanting to make her smile.

“I’m only trying to keep you alive so my family stays safe,” she replies, a twist on her mouth to let me know she may or may not be kidding.

I’m going to stay positive and hope she doesn’t mean what she just said. She’s such a damn brat, so headstrong and stubborn, but I love it. She challenges me in ways I didn’t know I liked. Not much comes easy with Rosie and I’m so used to having things handed to me that the challenge she gives me is welcome.

And a major aphrodisiac.

“You’re bleeding and you still make jokes.”

“Eh,” I waved her words away. “I’m used to bleeding a little for the right cause.”

“Is that what I am? A cause?”

“Something like that.” I wrap my hand around hers, the one pressing against my shoulder to stop the bleeding. “Admit it,” I say softly. “Admit you care, just a little.”

She leans forward, her nose brushing against mine. “Never.”

“You’re a mean, mean woman,” I can’t help but laugh, thinking that maybe she was going to kiss me.

She kissed my cheek at the airstrip, which still has me giddy as if I just got my first kiss when I was fifteen. I’m taking her innocent cheek kiss as a win.

The gates are already open when we pull into the driveway since my men know to open them when there is an emergency, and we are on our way. A few of my men spill out of the front door, rushing down the staircase and a few cars behind us come to a hurried stop and the gate closes.

Rosie goes to get out of the car, and I grab her arm. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Getting out so I can help you out of the car,” she says as if I’ve lost my mind.

I push her against the seat, pressing my hand against my shoulder, and I won’t lie, her hand felt a lot better than my own.

“I help you out of the car, wife.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re being ridiculous. You’re shot, Ari. Let me help you.”

“I better be fucking dead before you’re helping yourself out of the damn car.” I push the door open, holding in a moan of pain, and manage to get out.

“You’re impossible,” she sighs like she does when she’s annoyed with me.

Which is all the time.

I hold out my hand, the one that isn’t drenched in my blood, and she slaps her palm across mine, gripping me while giving me a dirty look.

“Matias, get her inside. Now,” I order.

Matias sweeps in, covering her with most of his body.

“Ari! What are you doing? Come inside,” she shouts.

“I want extra security and I want someone to follow Bianchi, understood? I want to know where he was. I want to confirm this was him before I fucking kill him.”

“Sure thing, Ari. Fuck, you don’t look too good.” Gianni tugs my jacket down my arm and grimaces. “Come on, let’s get you inside. We’re safe now.”

“No. I want a sweep. I want you to order men to check this property over a hundred times. I don’t want anyone within five miles of this compound, do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” he states. “Let’s get you inside. The nurse should be here soon.”

“I should look into getting a new doctor. So many retired when Carmine did.”

“Yes, but it’s on the list. Give yourself a break.”

“We can’t afford breaks.”

He helps me inside and he sets me down on one of the barstools.

“I’ll go give instructions to everyone and give you updates every thirty minutes.”

“Thank you, Gianni.” I unbutton my suit jacket and groan when I try to shrug it off.

“Will you stop?” Matias marches over to me and helps me ease my jacket off. “Stop trying to do everything yourself. It’s annoying. It’s no wonder she can’t stand you.”

“She’s crazy about me. Don’t let her fool you.”

“Maybe it’s him who is fooled,” I hear her voice from down the hall.

She stands in front of me, holding a white towel. “I have it from here until the nurse arrives,” she says to Matias.

“See? She wants to be alone with me.”

She slaps me lightly with the towel. “Don’t get so full of yourself. I’m going to unbutton your shirt and I didn’t know if you wanted him to see.”

“We have the same bodies,” Matias points out. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

She looks away, blushing. “Of course, sorry. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that. I don’t think you guys look anything alike.” She begins to unbutton my shirt and her fingers have a slight tremble as she tries to unbutton my shirt.

“Really? We are identical,” Matias explains. “We are exact replicas of each other. Down to the—”

“Don’t,” I bite out, cutting him off.

“Oh,” she breathes out slowly, her cheeks as bright as a tomato.

Matias grins at me knowingly and I grip Rosie’s hip. “Don’t let him lie to you, Tesoro. I’m more able to…fill your every need.”

“Fuck you.” Matias flicks me his middle finger.

“I mean—” she stops us from bantering “—Ari’s hair is darker and his jaw is wider, but your cheekbones are higher. Your nose is a little crooked too, Matias. I just think it’s easy to tell you two apart, that’s it.”

“It’s crooked cause he broke it when we were six.”

“You deserved it,” I grumble.

“How about both of you stop acting like you’re six and we can get this gunshot wound taken care of?”

Her hand slides up my shoulders, missing where my wound is, and slowly strips me of my ruined shirt. “You’re both broad, but where Ari is lean, you have more bulk,” she swallows, her fingertips dragging down my arms, tossing the shirt on the floor.

“You have a dimple in your chin,” she continues. “And Ari doesn’t.”

“Is that so?” Matias asks, which has her talking more.

I never want her to stop. Not many people can notice the slight differences between me and my twin. A person has to look very closely to notice those differences because they are slight.

“And Ari has a little silver around his temples.” It’s almost as if she’s in a trance or I know she wouldn’t typically be saying these things. I don’t move, I don’t even think I breathe because her fingers stroke my temples right where I’m starting to gray.

“Yeah, he is getting old, quick, right?” Matias says.

“Distinguished,” she corrects, our eyes meeting and something shifts between us, something monumental, I think.

She clears her throat and looks down on my shoulder. “I can clean up the surrounding area and it’s still bleeding but not as much as it was, so that’s good. I’m afraid I can’t help more than that. I have never stitched skin before.”

“It’s not so different from fixing a tear in a shirt,” Matias says.

Rosie gasps, horrified, and her expression is comical.

“He’s kidding.” I narrow my eyes at my brother. “Say you’re kidding.”

“I’m kidding,” he relents, then frowns. “I’m going to call the nurse to see what is taking so long. You need to think about hiring a doctor.”

“I know,” I sigh, wincing when Rosie presses a little too close to the wound.

“Sorry,” she whispers, sounding sad and guilty while she cleans the blood from my skin with easy, tender swipes.

“It’s okay, Tesoro. I can take the pain.”

“You shouldn’t have to.” She moves to my back, cleaning that exit wound.

“It comes with the job.” I lift my good shoulder.

“I need to go get a fresh towel. Keep this pressed until I get back. “

“Yes ma’am,” I say to her, watching her leave.

I groan, sagging against the counter to let out some of the pain I’ve been holding back.

“The nurse is here,” Matias shouts before opening the door.

I stand, but not to greet him or her. I walk to my liquor cabinet and grab a bottle of whiskey, then notice the red liquid dried on my wedding ring. With a gentle pull, I slide it off my finger and walk to the kitchen sink, laying it on the counter so I can wash it after the nurse leaves.

“Mr. Milazzo?” a soft feminine voice comes from behind me, grating my nerves for some reason.

I twist off the cap of the whiskey and take a long swig.

She sets a small bag down and pats the barstool. “Please, come sit so we can get this taken care of.”

I don’t miss how she looks me up and down, heat swirling in her brown eyes, but I do not feel the same. Everything I want is down the hall, whether we are in a business deal or not. Her hands drift up my arm in a way that shouts how interested she is.

“Wow, you’re in peak physical health, Mr. Milazzo,” she practically purrs, and I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes at how obvious she’s being.

If I wanted her, I could have her.

But nothing about how she is presenting herself attracts me. I like my women difficult, slightly aggravating, and with curly hair that goes in every direction.

The nurse spins the stool and starts poking and prodding around the exit wound. I hear a gasp and see Rosie in the hallway, clutching a towel to her chest, and her blue eyes pierce me through the shadowed darkness of the hall. That’s when the nurse runs her hand over my shoulder, humming in appreciation.

“I’m going to numb the area, but you might still feel some pressure, okay?”

“No problem,” I tell her, taking another swig of my drink.

Rosie’s eyes fall to my hand, and I curse, forgetting I had taken my ring off so I can clean it.

Is she jealous?

And is it wrong of me to want her to continue to be jealous?

When she presses a needle into my skin, I clench my fist and a rumble fills my chest to hold in the fucking curse I want to scream.

“You’re taking this well,” the nurse says.

“It isn’t my first time being shot. It won’t be the last.”

“Well—” she stands in front of me, biting her lip while she injects this side with medicine. “I hope if you do, you’ll call me again.”

I peer over her shoulder to see Rosie, leaning against the wall, watching the nurse flirt with me.

I want her to stay jealous. It tells me she cares in some sick and twisted way. I don’t care what I have to do to have Rosie look at me like this more often.

“We’ll have to see,” I say, staying neutral but not giving her hope either.

I want Rosie to see me speaking with her.

“How does this feel?” Her free hand lands on my good shoulder, pressing the edges of the wound while staring directly into my eyes.

Does this work on other men?

“Feels fine. I don’t feel a thing,” I grunt, snagging the whiskey bottle and taking another long swig.

“Great. I’m going to start stitching up then. I’m going to give you some pain medicine too. You need to keep your arm in a sling until I come and take out your stitches.”

“We’ll see about that too.”

“Now, don’t be complicated, Mr. Milazzo,” she giggles, beginning to stitch up the wound. “Unless you want me back here sooner.” She bats her eyelashes at me, and I wait to feel something, anything to suggest I might want this woman, but nothing is there.

I only want Rosie. I peer into the hallway again and Rosie isn’t there anymore.

Fuck.

I messed up. Again.

I shouldn’t have even entertained the nurse, but I loved how Rosie looked at me as if she wanted to stomp in here and claim me as her own.

She didn’t and I know she wouldn’t, at least, not under the current circumstances.

I’m feeling a slight buzz from the alcohol by the time the nurse is done stitching me up.

“Pain medicine right here.” She jiggles the container. “And antibiotics.” She slips the sling over my head and leans in close, her breasts nearly pressing against my face. She eases my arm in the sling. “How does that feel?”

“Like it’s going to be a pain in the ass,” I gripe, hating the way the straps dig into my skin.

Yeah, this won’t last.

She giggles again, placing her hands on my legs and whispers in my ear. “If you need anything else, call me, or if you don’t…call me anyway.”

“Okay. That’s enough,” Rosie marches her way into the kitchen and snags the nurse by the arm. “Thank you for your service. You can leave now.”

“Wait! Who the hell are you?” the nurse yells as Rosie opens the door and tosses her out.

I grin.

She cares.

Even if she’ll never admit it.

Rosie slams the door in her face, sliding the lock in place, and marches up the steps.

“That wasn’t very nice, Rosie. She was only helping me.” I stand, taking a step in the middle of the hall to get in her way.

Rosie narrows her eyes and grips my hand, lifting it so I can see the absence of the ring on my finger. “I’m sure she was only helping you. There’s a clause in the contract, you know. I don’t know if you remember but if either of us cheats, the contract is broken. Keep that in mind the next time you flirt with your nurse.”

“Is that why you’re so mad? Because of the contract?” I ask, knowing that isn’t the case at all. Rosie cares about me. In the small amount of time, we have gotten to know one another, we have grown closer, no matter how much she doesn’t want to admit it.

She bumps my bad shoulder with hers, lightly, but I’m still numb so I don’t feel it.

She likes me.

Even if she hates me.

And that’s worth more than that gem she has.