Corrupted by the Capo (Morally Gray Kingpins #4)

One

ONE

Molly

“Give me everything you have if you don’t want to get hurt.”

I barely stopped myself from rolling my eyes at the sound of the faux-aggressive voice.

This— this— was why I would always miss Hope working here.

If she were here, she would have told me what a terrible idea it was to volunteer to close the shelter up alone.

And if I was being my usual self and stubbornly insisted it was fine, she would have stayed after with me and kept an eagle eye on our surroundings.

Meaning this asshole wouldn’t have gotten the drop on me.

But Hope was long gone, retired from the life of a vet tech.

Her entire world had changed.

From her basement studio to happily married to the love of her life and in vet school.

Which left me alone in this alley, dealing with this prick who sounded like he practiced being a tough guy in the mirror.

As if to underscore how alone I was, a gust of warm wind blew through the alley.

It carried the scent of exhaust fumes, fried food, and a faint whiff of garbage.

The streetlight buzzed and flickered, sending down pulses of yellow-white light.

It was fucking comedy.

So cliché I could have laughed if I wasn’t so irritated.

I sighed, not concerned but thoroughly unimpressed as I turned to face the source of the voice.

A quick glance: nice shoes, expensive pants that were terribly tailored, off-white polo two sizes too small, probably to show off huge arms inflated by some less than legal substances.

Not your standard-looking mugger, especially with clearly manicured nails, an expensive haircut, and the gold chain and the crucifix hanging around his thick neck.

If I squinted the right way, he might have been handsome if he’d eased up on the human growth hormone.

I met his dark gaze.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have anything,” I said.

I hoped I didn’t sound as bored as I felt, and I added a little sniffle at the end to try to throw him off.

“I know you have something on you or in there,” he said, gesturing toward the shelter, his voice cracking before he dropped it an octave and took the threat level from TV mugger to a middle schooler on Halloween.

I exhaled, but not with fear.

No, it was pure annoyance at the utter stupidity of this entire encounter.

I worked at an animal shelter in an almost bad neighborhood.

What could I possibly have?

Diamonds?

I reached into the pocket of my cozy black denim overalls and pulled out the two crumpled dollar bills I kept there for just this occasion.

“This is all I have,” I said.

The man took the money, and I was glad he didn’t accidentally brush my fingers as he did.

Something about this man made my skin crawl, and I didn’t want to touch him.

“Two fucking bucks?”

I bit my tongue to keep my temper in check.

Failed.

“This is an alley outside of an animal shelter, dickhead, not a bank. And before you ask, no, we don’t have any drugs here, either,” I snapped.

The man narrowed his eyes, his nostrils flaring ever so slightly.

And with that, something shifted in the air.

For the first time, I felt it.

Something like actual danger.

I was still flabbergasted.

I mean what kind of degenerate robbed an animal shelter?

“I’m sure you have something,” he said, looking me up and down.

His leer lit something in my gut.

Not fear this time, either.

Fucking fury.

These men were so fucking predictable.

I hated using my taser.

The thing took forever to recharge and the smell of burning metal was hell to get out of my clothes.

So I tried to avoid using it, but I was about to make an exception for him.

He’d more than earned it.

I reached into my pocket again.

“Look, motherfuck?—”

A deep voice cut me off.

“Why are you out here, doll?”

The man currently accosting me was as surprised as I was at the new voice.

We both turned toward the voice like we’d been pulled by the same string.

I knew him.

Enzo Moretti.

The first time I’d met him, he’d been barging into my apartment like he owned the place.

He’d given some excuse about checking me out for his cousin Nico.

I’d been determined not to mention him to Hope.

She’d had enough to deal with as it was.

Of course Enzo the asshole had grabbed the phone out of my hand to talk to Hope anyway.

I’d been so annoyed that it was only after I’d finally gotten Enzo out of my place that it had struck me how familiar he’d seemed.

I’d blown the feeling off and put Enzo out of my mind.

Until Hope and Nico’s wedding.

Luckily, he hadn’t paid me a second of attention.

Not that he’d had the time.

From the heavy pats on his shoulders, to the flirtatious whispers from every woman in attendance, Enzo had been the bell of the ball.

Hope had been grateful for him taking at least some of the spotlight.

I’d thought he was a douchebag—and way too handsome for his own good.

Or mine.

Again, I shrugged it off.

Sure, Enzo seemed familiar, but if I’d met one conceited jerk-off, I’d met them all.

I’d keep the peace for Hope, and leave it at that.

Whatever pesky feelings Enzo stirred were my secrets.

Easy enough, except for times like now, when I was confronted by the man in the flesh—and the attraction he stirred with no effort at all.

I sighed, confronted with a reality I couldn’t ignore.

My would-be mugger annoyed me, but Enzo, the way I reacted to him, scared the fuck out of me.

“Enzo,” the robber said.

“Fabiano,” he responded.

Of course these two knew each other.

Hope had never said a word about what Nico did, but she didn’t need to.

Nico was connected. And so was Enzo.

That was clear to me and the closest I’d ever been to the mafia were those true-crime shows.

“You’re far from home,” Fabiano said.

“Straying into Genovese territory.”

Territory.

Yeah, I was definitely out of my league.

It was time to go.

I pressed my hands together in a tight clasp.

“Well, sounds like you two have a lot of catching up to do, so if you don’t mind…”

I went to step around Enzo and was stopped by a strong arm around my waist.

I tried to think of a time when another person had so effortlessly halted me, and I came up short.

I’d been five-eight in the fifth grade and only got bigger and taller from there.

But Enzo didn’t seem to have any trouble stopping me in my tracks when his arm wrapped around my waist, holding me in place effortlessly, like I weighed nothing.

second I was moving, the next I was pinned to him, my side flush against his hard chest, the place where we touched electrified.

“Excuse me?” I said, glaring at him, my face no doubt twisted.

He chuckled, the sound rich, amused, and far too attractive.

“Don’t be coy, doll,” he said.

As he spoke, he pulled me even closer, sealing my side against his.

The suit he wore probably cost more than the entire animal shelter.

Tailored within an inch of its life, the fit so perfect, it could only have been made for him.

The black fabric had a subtle sheen, and his white shirt looked extra crisp against his tan skin.

He looked, smelled, and felt like money.

He made me want to lean into him.

He felt…good. I hated how solid he felt.

How much I wanted to touch him even though my brain screamed danger.

Instead I tried to pull away…

and got absolutely nowhere.

“She belong to you?” Fabiano said.

I was so intent on asking Enzo what the fuck he was doing, I had practically forgotten Fabiano was there.

His words drew my attention and my ire.

“I don’t belong to?—”

Enzo cut me off.

“Yep, she does,” he said, his voice easy before it shifted into menace.

“Which means this place is off limits.”

His voice was flat, final.

Didn’t allow even a hint of debate.

Fabiano wasn’t fazed.

“Are you trying to tell the Genovese what we can do in our own territory?”

“I don’t give a fuck about the Genovese or your fucking territory,” Enzo said, his voice dismissive and taunting.

I could tell it pissed Fabiano off, too, and seeing that irritation was enough to make me smile.

“This is my woman’s place, which means it—and her—are under the protection of the Morettis. Remember that,” Enzo said.

I started to interject.

“I don’t?—”

“Let me handle this, doll,” Enzo said.

Doll.

He may as well have patted my head.

I looked at him, mouth gaping open.

He had shushed me.

Well, not technically, but in practice, he had shushed me.

Nobody shushed me.

“I haven’t heard anything about that,” Fabiano said.

I took enough of a break from my anger at this pigheaded Enzo person to notice that Fabiano had stepped closer.

He also had his hand near his waist—and in an instant, the moment took a turn.

This silly little farce had become life or death.

I wasn’t afraid of guns, but I’d never really had a reason to be.

Most of my interactions with petty street crime were just that: petty.

Sure, there was violence—and guns were as common as oxygen—but this…

this was something different.

“You trying to start a war over two bucks?” Enzo said.

His voice was calm, steel wrapped in silk, the promise of violence unmissable.

As he spoke, he pushed me behind him, and this time, I had no inclination to resist.

“You trying to start a war over some bitch?” Fabiano said.

“Watch your fucking mouth, Fabiano,” Enzo said.

On instinct, I glanced up at him, trying to process what I was hearing.

Even though this situation had been tense, his voice had held a tone of playfulness.

It wasn’t playful now.

In fact, when I had looked at Enzo the first time, after that feeling of familiarity, there had been something warm, almost comforting about him.

But in just that split second, I realized how simple—naive—I had been.

Because the person holding me now wasn’t comforting.

He was dangerous.

And I stood behind him like I belonged there.

I wasn’t sure how I missed it before, but I saw his danger now.

Saw it, believed it so much that I didn’t try to pull away again.

“Don’t speak to her that way,” Enzo said.

Even Fabiano, clearly not a genius, was smart enough to look afraid.

Interesting considering he was the one with a gun in his waistband.

“Sorry about the insult, Enzo,” he said.

“Tell Molly,” Enzo said.

The way Enzo said my name was something I’d never heard.

He spoke my name with reverence.

Spoke it like he was claiming me.

Fabiano glanced toward me but didn’t really look at me as he mumbled, “Sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Enzo glared at the man as he retreated, either not interested or not willing to look back.

When he was gone, I looked at Enzo, sudden awareness hitting me.

“Wait a second. How do you know where I work?”