Conquered by the Mafia Boss

“Yeah. I just managed to escape.”

Pity shines all over Tommy’s face, and hope soars inside my chest like a balloon lifting to the sky.

“I know what you want to ask me. Johnny already called ahead. The answer’s still no. I’m sorry.”

He stands there, looking healthy and happy in his fucking two-piece suit, giving me a sad smile as though he wishes he could help me.

Fuck you.

“You owe me-”

“I don’t owe you a damn thing.”

I can’t believe how cold his voice is, how devoid of human emotion it is. Why is it that every one of my dad’s friends treats me as a parasitic extension of my father? Did I talk to the cops? No.

It hurts more than it should.

“I don’t understand why you would do this to me.” The pain breaks through my voice and emotion finally cracks through his hard gaze. “Fine, hate my dad, but don’t I deserve your help? We practically grew up together, and-you’re just going-you’re going to let him kill me?”

The anguish of being abandoned by virtually everyone I know twists my heart, and I dig my nails into my flesh. He flinches at the word “kill” and uncrosses his arms, looking at a loss.

Fine.

“Elena, I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can fucking do.”

Nothing?

“That sounds like bullshit.”

“If I touched a hair on his head, I’d be dead,” he says flatly. “Those are the rules.”RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only

I search his desperate eyes.

“Give me a job here.”

“What?”

I said it without really thinking, but the idea grows in my head. It’s a connected bar. Someone’s bound to have a gun at all times here.

“Please. I’ll feel safer if I’m surrounded by-guys like you.”

“You don’t know the language, hon.”

“Neither do you!”

He gives me a wry smile. “You’re just delaying the inevitable.”

“Tommy, please.”

The plea in my voice gets through to him and he frowns, sighing. “Fine. I’ll get you set up, but I don’t want you to come in until you’ve healed. You look like hell. You’ll scare my customers.”

“Thank you, Tommy. Thank you.”

It’s not much, but it’s a start.

“Tommy, I need to ask you something else.”

He moans and rubs his face hard. “What?”

“I have money that I need you to keep safe for me.”

At once his face brightens. “How much are we talking about?”

I lower my voice. “About a hundred grand.”

“I’ll be happy to do that for a small fee. Ten percent.”

Ten percent? That’s ten thousand dollars!

Not like I have a choice.

“Fine.”

“I’ll send some guys to pick it up. What’s your address?” He frowns when I give it to him. “Raf will be able to find that, easily.”

I don’t know what he expects me to do about it.

ELENA

Even after all this shit with my ex, I can’t stop thinking about that man in the bar. Here I am, sitting in my new apartment in Montreal, fantasizing about another man.

There are bigger fucking problems in my life, but I can’t stop thinking about his rugged face-so different from Rafael’s-and his five o’clock shadow, which gave him the perfect balance of disheveled and sexy. He’s the kind of guy who haunts your dreams after only one glance. Tall, dark, and handsome, but so gentle with his hands. He said things to me that I should hate for how fucking rude they were, but they gave me such a thrill from his honest voice. There’s something really sexy about a man who knows what he wants and doesn’t hesitate to go after it.

Tony was a breath of fresh air right when I needed it. He told me I was beautiful, promised to make me come on his tongue, and I wanted to let him. It was like feeling a ray of sunshine after a really long winter. I wanted to feel desired by a guy like that. Who wouldn’t?

But I panicked.

I slapped the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen, and I can’t stop obsessing over it. It’s ridiculous. My ex-boyfriend wants me dead and this is what my brain chooses to obsess over.

I fantasize about that sexy bastard while I get ready for work in the apartment Tommy hooked me up with, hoping that Tony will be there.

No, stay the fuck away. Rafael was a nightmare, remember?

A grim sort of satisfaction stretches my face when I look in the mirror. Maria would be so proud. Here I am, making the same mistakes over and over again. The last thing I want to do is start dating, but when I think about how it felt to have Tony’s hands squeeze my tits, all reason flies out the window.

Maybe Rafael moved on. All week he’s been silent.

I eye the dark phone sitting on the white sink. A thrill of apprehension runs through me when I pick it up and turn it on. He hasn’t left any messages for days, but then I see a new voice mail and it’s from my sister.