Page 68 of Mob Queen

“Jeremy Miller,” I reply.

“I know. I’m Frankie’s brother, and you really shouldn’t be here.”

Trust me, buddy, I know. “I’m being held against my will,” I say with light mirth.

“You’re more than welcome to call the cops, but good luck getting one not on my payroll,” Frankie quips. Smart ass.

“I know you,” Rome says as he turns to Jackie.

“No, you don’t.” She shakes her head vehemently, proving they do know her from somewhere and it’s clear she doesn’t want them to figure it out. “I’m no one.”

“Shit,” Frankie says as she sits back in her chair. “Fuck.”

“What is it?” Rome asks.

I feel like I shouldn’t be here, considering I’m in a mobster’s home. Do people even say mobster anymore?

“G!” Frankie calls over her shoulder.

He appears the same time as Mya returns with Frankie’s coffee. What is it with these people? Everyone is at Frankie’s beck and call. Her mere presence holds a command. “What is it?”

“Elena,” Frankie says. Who’s Elena? What’s going on? Jackie sucks in a deep breath and covers her face with her hands.

“Fuck,” G groans.

“Fuck,” Rome echoes.

“Mya, take Miller up to my room,” Frankie instructs.

“Yes, ma’am.” She looks to me. “Sir?” Mya gestures for me to follow her. No, I want to know what’s going on. “Sir,” she repeats.

“I’m not going anywhere.” I recline and fold my arms in front of my chest.

“Yes, you are. This is family business,” Rome says.

“Then you shouldn’t have brought me here,” I say to Frankie. “Or burn my house down.” G snickers. “Or stolen my car.”

“It’s safe. It’s in the garage,” Frankie says defensively.

“I’m not going anywhere, I want to know who Jackie-slash-Elena is. I’m invested now.”

“This isn’t up for negotiation,” G says.

“But getting me involved in your life is? No, I’m not going anywhere.”

G and Rome looks to Frankie for direction. Her jaw tightens and she flicks her head to the side. “Go.”

“No.” Screw this, I’m not a fucking plaything she can toss aside or beckon whenever she wants.

“The boss told you to leave.” G walks over, stands beside me and flicks his jacket to the side showing me his weapon.

Frankie watches our interaction, but if I give in to this then she’s going to forever run my life. It might end with a bullet in my head, but I refuse to budge. “Go ahead.” I flick my gaze to the gun, then back to G. “Do what you have to, but I’m not leaving.”

Moments of tension shroud the dining room. G inches his fingers closer to his gun, Frankie watches as I straighten and lift my chin. “Enough,” Frankie finally says in a harsh whisper. G steps back and shoves his hands in his pockets. Frankie looks to me and arches a brow. “You’ve got balls; I’ll give you that.” She turns her attention to Jackie-slash-Elena. “Why are you on the streets, Elena?”

“My name’s Jackie,” the girl tries to convince Frankie.

“Cut the shit,” Frankie replies with harshness. “What happened? Why are you on the streets?”

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