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I don’t do later. I want to fight now. She owes me an explanation.

“We’re having it now.” I refuse to back down. I don’t let anyone walk all over me, and I feel like I’ve let Paige do that by stealing from me.

She gently sets Nova down in the playroom and stalks out into the hallway. “Are you going to fire me?”

“I ought to do more than just fire you.”

She shakes her head, clearly not understanding the implication.

You betray the Ricci family. You die. It’s as simple as that. But she’s not mafia. She’s the nanny. And I can’t forget how good she is with Nova. I hate their connection.

Jealousy seeps into my veins.

“Dock my pay,” Paige says. “Whatever the ring cost, I’ll pay you back.”

Does she not realize the sentimental value of the treasure? “It’s not about the money. My wife is dead. Murdered. I can’t replace the ring. Just like I can’t replace her. Until the ring is returned to me, you’re forbidden from leaving.”

“What?” Her eyes widen. “You can’t do that, Sir.”

I just did.

She’ll learn to respect me and my authority.

“You heard me,” I say and step closer, staring down at her.

She takes several small steps backward, her heels hitting the edge of the wall. There’s nowhere else for her to go.

I have her trapped.

The heat radiates off her body. The hallway feels warm, stuffy, and suffocating. I’m tired of her games and antics. Why can’t she just hand over the ring?

Did she throw it out?

Flush it down the toilet?

Does she hate me that much?

I can’t fathom what kind of person would steal from the mafia. Then again, she probably doesn’t realize we’re that type of family.

Her eyes are wide and bright. Her hands tremble at her sides.

I pretend not to notice the fear as I trap her. My hand comes up against the wall, not letting her slip away, even if she wanted to escape.

She hasn’t tried to run or flee.

I can’t fathom why.

“If you want your freedom, you’ll return my dead wife’s ring you stole.”

Her eyelid twitches for a brief second. There’s something behind her gaze that I don’t recognize.

Is it anger? Resentment?

“Do you smell that?” Paige asks.

That is not the response I was expecting.

“What? Is this a game to you?” My voice echoes down the corridor.

The smell wafts from the playroom and burns my nostrils.

Smoke.


Tags: Willow Fox Mafia Marriages Dark