Toxic Love: A Dark Enemies To Lovers Mafia Romance
Toxic Love: Chapter 35

You could say that what I’m about to do is underhanded, sneaky, and wrong. But I’m choosing to view it through a different lens. This isn’t stabbing Dante in the back or meddling with his life.

It’s fixing a problem he only has because of me.

I’ve been thinking about Layla a lot since the truth came out back in the Hamptons, and even more since we got back to New York. The last thing Dante did for her was bury a secret she never wanted any of us to discover. In doing so, he made our whole family hate him and think the worst of him.

Maybe he’ll hate me for what I’m about to do, but that’s fine. I won’t be here to feel shitty about it for long. And before I go, I can fix this problem for him.

Dante generally keeps a tight lid on all things Club Venom, and definitely on all things mafia. But the door to his office was open the other night while he was on the phone to someone that I eventually gathered was Vito Barone. Through the open door I heard Dante’s side of a conversation about Luciano Amato wanting to shut down Venom, or at least remove Dante as owner, over the situation with Silvio Bonpensiero.

And that got me thinking about the firemen’s gala we went to, where Renata Bonpensiero was a huge bitch to me. I remembered Dante threatening her back with information he had on her husband working against the interests of his boss, Don Amato.

Dante’s conversation with Vito also clued me in that, while he had information on Frank Bonpensiero, he wasn’t sure about using it quite yet.

I beg to differ.

So the other night, I…acquired that information. By which I mean, I might have slunk naked into Dante’s office, dropped to my knees and took his cock down my throat. And I might have watched him type in his computer password to wake it up again after he’d finished fucking me across his desk.

Again, it’s maybe wrong for me to be doing this without even talking to Dante. But this is one thing I can do for him after all he’s done for me, not to mention for Layla. I can stop certain people from calling for his removal from Venom.

I take a deep breath as I step out of the Uber in front of the Amato Brothers Funeral Parlor in the Gowanus neighborhood of Brooklyn.

I never thought I’d be a mafia deal negotiator. But, well, here we are.

There’s a big guy in a black suit smoking a cigarette by the front door. He eyes me curiously as I walk up to him.

“The Angelino service isn’t until tomorrow, miss.”

“Oh, I’m not here for that.”

He smiles politely. “Well, business inquiries are by appointment only. The website has a way to make⁠—”

“I’m here to see Don Amato.”

The man goes quiet, arching a brow at me. Then he eyes me up and down, pulling his jacket open just enough for me to see the gun holstered under his arm.

“I think you need to⁠—”

“I’m not going anywhere until I see Don Amato,” I smile. “Trust me, he’ll want to meet with me. You can tell him it’s Mrs. Sartorre.”

The guard quickly sucks down the rest of his cigarette. Then he tosses it aside and stamps it out.

“Wait here.”

He slips inside. A minute later, he’s back, looking at me with curious interest.

“Come on in.”

“My, my, my. Mrs. Sartorre…”

Luciano Amato is a large man both vertically and horizontally. He’s also very well dressed and is somehow not just “pulling off” a pinstripe suit, he’s seriously rocking it.

He stands as I’m ushered into his office above the funeral home, which, from what I’ve heard from my brothers, is notorious for occasionally putting more than one body in a casket before burying it.

…If you get my drift.

“Please, have a seat,” Don Amato rumbles, gesturing at the chair in front of his desk. “Would you like a drink?”

“No, thank you, Don Amato. Thank you for seeing me.”

“Of course. I assume you’re here to apologize?”

I smile benignly as I settle in my chair. “For?”

He frowns. “For fucking up my niece’s boy’s face, and for your prick of a husband putting him in a goddamn coma, that’s what.”

I clear my throat. “I hear Silvio is awake now.”

Luciano grunts. “He is. So, where’s this apology?”

“Oh,” I smile. “There is no apology. Your niece’s son is a giant piece of shit, and if I had it my way, he’d be back in that coma.”

Luciano’s brows shoot up. He looks half amused, half pissed off as he steeples his hands and studies me from across the desk.

“You got balls, Mrs. Sartorre, I’ll give you that,” he mutters eventually. “So why don’t you tell me why the fuck are you here, then?”

“I’d like to bury the hatchet, so to speak.”

I reach into my bag, which the guard at the door already examined, and pull out a stack of printouts from Dante’s computer—phone call transcriptions, text message screenshots, bank statements, and photographs of Frank Bonpensiero meeting with Kratos Drakos.

I drop the packet on the desk. “You should see this.”

Luciano doesn’t immediately look down.

“What is this?”

“It’s a packet of information concerning⁠—”

“No. You, coming here like this. This Dante’s idea?”

“No, Mr. Amato,” I smile frostily. “It’s mine.”

His eyes finally drop to the pages on the desk. His brow furrows as he pushes aside the top few sheets to land on a printout of a photo of Frank Bonpensiero shaking hands with Kratos Drakos as the large and good-looking Greek guy is literally handing Frank a wad of cash.

Luciano starts to look angrier and angrier as he skims the printouts, until his teeth are flashing and his eyes are drawn to slits.

Slowly, his gaze lifts to me.

“Where’d this shit come from?”

“Let’s just say my husband is skilled at collecting information when he wants to.”

Luciano smiles grimly. “Apparently so.” He drums his fingers on the table before he raises his eyes past me. “PAULIE!” he roars, making me half jump out of my chair. “Paulie! Get in here!”

The door to the office opens, and the big guy from outside steps in. “Yes, Don Amato?”

“Where the fuck is Frank Bonpensiero right now?”

The guy frowns. “Like, right now right now? I think he’s over in Sheepshead Bay on business.”

Luciano leans back in his chair, cracking his knuckles. “Go get him. Bring him here. Oh, and Paulie?” His lips curl. “Clear my schedule for the rest of the day and open up one of the free embalming rooms downstairs, yeah?”

“You got it, boss.”

When Paulie leaves, Luciano levels his cold eyes at me. “We’re done here, Mrs. Sartorre.”

I nod silently, standing and turning to go.

“But you can tell Dante and Vito the next time you see them that my threat regarding Club Venom is off the table. Capice?”

I turn and incline my head. “Thank you, Don Amato.”

He smirks. “He was smart to marry you, sweetheart. And I don’t mean just to keep his little sex club.”

I blush as I dip my head again. “Thank you.”