Wild One

Forty

Manon

I find it so interesting how many men Manon has been engaged to, married to, or some other intimate relationship.

Can't she have a stray cousin or something?

I'm sick of it! Seeing these guys pining after her. It makes me murderous.

“I can't believe you!” She hits my shoulder.

I grin. “Why not?”

“We agreed to go out separate ways,” She argued, pacing. I take a strand of her curl hair between my fingers, letting it slip through my grasp as she moves.

“We never agreed to do anything,” I correct her. “We had a slight disagreement and you ran like a coward. Big difference.”

She squints, standing still. “One dinner. Only because you promised to be there. Then you disappear, and we go out separate ways.”

***

The dinner is uneventful at first. We share pleasantries, then we just eat.

That is until.

“So, Niccoló,” Dylan says.

My jaw tics as I regard him blankly. “How long have you known our little roll? She's never mentioned you?”

I smirk. “Funny, I was just thinking how she's never mentioned you either, Wyatt, was it?”

He smiles back at me. “Dylan,” He grits. “But you were close.”

I quirk a brow. “I apologize. I'm a busy man. I don't have time to memorize names of irrelevant people. You understand?”

He damn near falls out of his seat.

Manon pinches me under the table, making me chuckle.

I almost feel like a naughty child.

“So, Baba,” Dylan starts again. “We're close to catching him.”

Manon starts fidgeting. I know whatever happens next, I won't appreciate.

“Really,” Manon's father beams. “It's about time we got that scum off the street.”

Manon chokes on her bread.

“Swallow, pulcino. I know you know how.”

I smirk, but she clears her throat, stabbing me under the table with her fork. The ruthless b***h. That actually hurt.

“Who is this scum, if you don't mind me asking?”

Manon chuckles. “No work talk at the table boys.”

“He shares your name actually. The CPD has been on his trail for months. Niccoló Vitale.”

I quirk a brow, shooting Manon a glare. A pig? A pig?! And he dares call me scum? I'll rip out his entrails and ties them on curtain rod.

“Really? You're a p—an officer.”

He smiles proudly, puffing out his chest. “Yes. I fight for justice.”

Justice. Cute.

“And you said you were close to getting Vitale?”

He nods vehemently. “We know where he lives. We know where he frequents—”

Obviously he doesn't. I frequent his Betrothed all the time. And apparently, he doesn't know what I look like. Because if he did, I can almost bet he wouldn't be talking the amount of s**t he's talking right now.

“Really? And what does he look like?”

Dylan shrugs. “Usual mob boss: Italian, middle age, balding, gut, greasy.”

My fork caves under my grip at his description. Balding? Gut? Greasy?!

I never put grease in my hair, that is a stereotype, and it is unappreciated! And balding? Balding?!

I'll gut him! Like a fish! Like a f*****g fish and send his remains to his f*****g mother, son of a b***h!

“Okay!” Manon interferes. “That's enough. Let's talk about something else. Anything else.”

No, I wanna talk about how I'm balding and how I have a gut. Middle age. I'm not even thirty yet!

“Manon, how's your work?” I calm my temper to ask her.

She avoids my eyes. “No work talk!”

Manon's father addresses me stoutly. It's evident he doesn't like me, but I'm sure with all the bridges in the Detroit area, he'll find one and get over it.

“So, Niccoló, what do have planned for my daughter?”

Well, after we leave here, I plan to take her back home to my place and punish her severely for this entire endeavor.

But of course, I don't say that.

“I like Manon,” I say instead, “She's an intelligent, beautiful woman.”

“Did you know she was engaged?” Dylan interrupted. Again. “I guess because she didn't mention you, you're not staying around long.”

I don't even answer him, because if I do, I'll cut his tongue out with my butter knife. And because it's dull, it'd just be a long drawn out process.

“I plan to stay for a while. You'll be seeing more of me.”

She elbows me. Hard. “Don't say things like that, honey,” She grits.

I kiss her nose, slyly winking at her. “Why not tell your family the truth, pulcino. You've put it off for so long.”

She looks confused. I can see the question in her eyes. What truth?

Why, the one I just made up of course!