Page 52 of Mafia Star

“What’s wrong? Something just changed in your body. You’re tense. Did I say something? Do you not like it?”

I refuse to cry during sex or even after it. That’d be ridiculous. But the emotional tsunami is sucking me under. I can’t sort through all of this since my brain is now mush.

Marco holds me and doesn’t push for answers. I’m grateful. This future I’ve been imagining. I let myself get carried away. A life married to the mob— the Mafia. I don’t want this.

Chapter Eleven

Marco

Beth’s changed her mind. She’s completely withdrawn from me in the matter of seconds even though I haven’t pulled out of her. Whatever just caused the shift makes any arousal I might have left drain away. My dick doesn’t cooperate, and I hate the feeling of my body leaving hers. But it seems to bring her relief. What the fuck just happened?

Whatever this is, I don’t get the sense she wants to talk about it. She’s slow to pull away, but she rolls off me. She kisses me, but it almost feels like she thinks she has to before she can make her escape. I watch her walk into the bathroom. I gave her a fresh toothbrush I happened to have. She shuts the door, and I hear the water run at the sink. Then it’s the shower. I’d hoped to share that with her this morning since we didn’t take advantage of it yesterday afternoon. We didn’t stop by her place, so she has no fresh clothes. That’s why she wore my t-shirt and boxers.

She’s quick. I will give her that. I’m not sure what to do. Do I stay in bed? Do I meet her at the door and get ready too? Do I make her coffee? This is why I never sleep over at a woman’s place and don’t have them sleep at mine. But I thought Beth was my girlfriend. Why the awkwardness?

I climb out of bed, and I’m making it as she comes out. I turn from her side and look at her. She’s as naked as I am. I watch her eyes sweep over me, and I see the spark of interest. But I don’t know if I should go near her. I choose to get her another t-shirt and boxers. When I hand them to her, I realize she’s been crying. Her eyes are red and glassy. I take the boxers back and slip them on before pulling her into my embrace. She comes willingly.

“What’s going on, cuore mio.” My sweetheart.

“I don’t think I can do this, Marco. I thought I could. I wanted to.”

“Wanted? Not want.”

“I don’t know. I know you’re going to have guards for me, and I know one of them will be from your family. But am I going to need them? Am I in danger now? Is Chelle?”

“Yes to all three. And you know Enzo and I would change that in a heartbeat if we could. Our world has changed in the last few years, and my family is regrettably part of why. Women and children used to be off limits. No one went near them. But things have happened, and now women aren’t as safe as they once were. Children seem to still be untouchable.”

I say that, but then I remember an incident Maks and Laura had with shots fired at them while their twins were newborns. I think about the men who broke into Uncle Salvatore and Aunt Sylvia’s house. They took my aunt while my cousins slept right above them. This is why I’m selfish as fuck to have brought Beth into this. This is why I swore I never would.

But there’s something else. It’s not just the risk to her safety. The shift wasn’t from that.

“Beth, what’s really going on?”

I draw her back to the bed and guide her to sit next to me. My heart aches as the tears silently slide down her cheeks. She’s quick to swipe them away, but they’re just replaced by more. I cup her cheek and kiss the other side, the saltiness bitter on my lips. I don’t want this. I don’t want to hurt her, but I don’t want her to walk away.

“This is moving too fast, Marco. It’s not just what’s going on outside your front door. It’s what’s happening between us.”

“What do you need?”

“I don’t know. We’ve barely been out a few times, and I’m already staying at your place. Last night felt like we’ve always been a couple. There’s still so much I don’t know. I don't even know your favorite color. Just now— for me…”

“It’s royal purple.”

That makes her pause.

“Really?”

“Yes. My parents got me a bath robe when I was eight, and I made sure my brothers and sister knew it was because I was meant to reign. I was a little shit. But I discovered I really love the color.”

She offers me a watery smile. I’m slow, like she might flee if I make any unexpected movement, but I kiss her forehead.

“What was it about just now that upset you? Was what I said too possessive?”

“No. It was perfect. I love how you talk to me.”

She freezes when she finishes, and I know why.

“This is moving too fast for you because our feelings are pretty fucking extreme for one another so soon. I didn’t fuck you, Beth. We didn’t fuck. You know that just like I do, and that terrifies you.”

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