Dreading The Mafia

Part 28

Part 28

Renzo was a Borroni? He was a fucking Borroni? What in the fucking world was going on and what was I doing in the middle of it? If he was a Borroni, why was he trying to destroy his own family? Had he lost his mind?

"I am not a Borroni! I lost this name the moment my father married your mother," he spat, pulling me closer to him; holding on to me as if I were his lifeline, which I was sure wasn't true at all.

"Oh little brother, no need to be so bitter about things." Malia pouted, but I could see sadistic satisfaction twinkling in her eyes.

"I wouldn't be bitter if you and your pathetic mother hadn't killed my father," he snarled. What the fuck? Malia killed his father? Damn, I knew she was evil. Now how was I supposed to get Renzo out of here. Maybe this crazy woman was trying to fuck with his head in order to make him vulnerable so she could cause harm to him, but I would not let that happen. I would protect Renzo. He was weak and was unable to defend himself.

You are delusional.

Regardless of what my inner voice said, I had to take care of Renzo. This woman was cruel and manipulative—she was supposed to be in jail—and I would not let Renzo become a victim of her. I would be his knight in shining armor.

You are a woman!

I was no longer listening to my annoying inner voice. Instead I was thinking about the best way to get this man out of here. I had a feeling that Malia brought him here for a reason. If men would pop out with guns aimed at Renzo, then there would be serious trouble.

"Renzo, maybe we should go. You can tell me everything when we get back to your place," I suggested, but he wasn't even looking at me. His eyes were locked on to his sister's, pain and anger burning in those viridian irises.

"My mother didn't kill your father. He was crazy; he shot himself. You know that. And as for Mom, she is your mother as well," Malia replied with a smirk.

"My father was not crazy! And that gold digging whore will never be my mother. My mother is dead and that woman who married my father has no right to call herself my mother," he hissed, stepping closer to her, but I held on to him, preventing him from lashing out at her.

I understood what Malia was doing. She was riling him up—provoking him so he would lose control of his emotions, which would give her perfect opportunity to strike. I would not let this crazy woman win.

"Don't you dare speak about my mother in such a manner!" She stood up, rage flashing in her eyes.

"I speak nothing but the truth about her, and even you know that," Renzo responded, harshly.

"Renzo? Listen to me. We have to get out of here. You can't stay here; I'm sure Malia is trying to provoke you, so she would know your weakness, but you must not let her know," I hissed in his ear, hoping he would understand and do as I say. But even my hissing was loud enough for Malia to hear, and probably the rest of the world...except Renzo.

"You should probably listen to your girlfriend, little brother. You don't want to lose any more people, now do you?" Was she threatening me? Did she not know that threatening me was not a wise choice? I would have to teach this woman a lesson she'd never forget. Just because I was not a killer like her, did not mean I was weak.

"If you think I would let you touch a hair on her body, then you are clearly mistaken. Right now, I wish to give you a quick, painless death, but touch my woman and you will be screaming until you can't scream anymore," he threatened, taking me by surprise. Was he serious about this? Would he really do what he said?