Page 50 of Fatal Sloth

If Mia got pregnant, I could never let her leave. Not only because I'm a selfish prick and want to keep her for myself but because that would be my kid, too. A Morelli. It would put a bigger target on Mia and my child.

The underworld of the city is in chaos, and the damn shortages in our shipments are only pouring fuel on the fire. The pressure is mounting, squeezing me from all sides. The legacy rests on my shoulders, and rival families are always sniffing around for any sign of weakness. Yet, my mind keeps going back to Mia, a complication I can’t afford. Sometimes, I think it would have just been easier to give the title to Nico.

A knock on the door snaps me back to reality. The door swings open, and without waiting for an invitation, Enzo walks in. His light gray suit, a stark contrast to the dimly lit room. Enzo’s scowl is as stern as my own. "We got a problem with the shipments. Things are getting worse," he grumbles, leaning against the desk.

"What's going on?"

He takes a deep breath as if bracing himself for my impact on the news he has. "Three dock employees are missing. Vanished without a trace."

My fingers trace absent patterns on the polished surface of the desk as I clench my jaw. The situation keeps getting worse. "How the hell does that happen?"

The shipments are an essential part of our operation, and any disruption will send a ripple of unease through the Chicago outfit. We've been keeping it under wraps, but if it’s getting worse and people are going missing, it’s only a matter of time before the word gets out.

This city is my battleground. And maintaining control is crucial. Missing employees means more than just an inconvenience; it means a breach in the security of our operations. It’s a dangerous position to be in.

Enzo runs a hand through his hair, a rare display of visible agitation. "We're investigating, but it's like they vanished into thin air. No witnesses, no clues."

Missing employees isn't the kind of news anyone ever wants to hear, especially now that Dad is stepping down and I’ll be running everything. "What's the word on the shipments, then?" I demand.

Enzo straightens, his gaze meeting mine. "On top of the missing employees, four crates are missing.”

I mutter a string of curses under my breath. Any disruption not only screws with our standing but also gives my old man another excuse to put off passing the throne.

"We need to find those employees, Enzo," I say, the urgency in my voice potent. "And tighten security. No more surprises."

Enzo nods, his expression reflecting the gravity of the situation. "Already on it, Seb. But we can't afford to waste time."

“Then don’t.”

The city outside continues its relentless pace, unaware of the turmoil within the Morelli outfit. I lean forward, hands gripping the edge of the desk, ready to kill whoever threatens to unravel My Mafioso.

The clink of melting ice cubes against the lowball glass is the only sound that breaks the silence in the office. I sit behind the imposing desk, feeling like I’m lurking in Dad’s shadow, wondering why this is all happening now.

I eye the crystal in my hand, the glass holding the last few drops of my favorite amber liquid. Whiskey is my only companion in the silence of my thoughts. I down the last of the alcohol, Its warmth spreading to my chest like a comforting elixir and allowing me to forget my responsibilities momentarily.

When I stand to pour myself another, that’s when I hear it––hear her.

Jumping from my seat, I head to my room. Our room. My shirt has never looked as good as it does on Mia's petite body. But the sight of her tossing and turning in her sleep, haunted by nightmares every damn night, hits me hard. The possessiveness I feel for her is unlike anything I've felt for anyone else.

Crawling into bed, I slide under the covers and pull her close. Her hair sticks to her face from a mix of sweat and tears, yet her skin feels cool to the touch.

After brushing back her wet hair and wiping tears from her porcelain skin, Mia settles against me. Her head finds its place on my left shoulder, and I wrap my arm under her. My right arm snakes around her waist, rubbing her back gently until her breathing starts to steady.

“You keep the monsters away,” she mumbles into my shoulder.

With both arms securely around her, I hold her tight while burying my face in her hair. Her sweet scent helps calm the rage inside me. “I’ll always keep them away from you, Piccolina,” I promise her. The urge to kill the fucker who haunts her dreams only grows stronger because anyone who hurts Mia is a dead man walking.

Lying here in the dark room, it's quiet—too quiet, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Damn it. It's like a knife twisting in my gut when I think about the look on Mia's face when she walked in the door today and the look in her eyes when we had sex. I was so caught up in my head that I didn’t even stop to think about her before I just started yelling. Regret claws at the back of my mind every time I look at her. She deserves better than what I gave her tonight. She deserves everything good in this world and more.

Maybe I should try to make it up to her, to show her that I'm not just some heartless bastard. I can buy her something, expensive things that I know women love. Or I maybe take her on a date, like a picnic in the park or some corny shit like that.

What the hell happened to me? When did I become such a bitch?

Mia and I are still snuggled together under the covers when I feel her squirm against me.

What time is it? Internally groaning, it has to be early because the sun isn't even up yet.

"Bash." Comes her soft voice.

---