Page 27 of The Mafia's Surprise Gift

“If the Pakhan reaches out,” Jian said, pausing his retreat, “what do you want? A meeting, or I tell him to get fucked?”

“Right now, he can get fucked,” I growled. “Ask me again tomorrow.”

“You got it.” Jian dipped his head and hurried from the room, followed by Dino, who was more hesitant to leave. He only lingered a few moments. His eyes locked onto me before he left, too, and silence draped around me like a cloak.

The Russians. So. All the work my father did to secure peace all those years ago was crumbling because… why? The Russians wanted more power? Territory? Killing the Head of a Family was usually warranted, but I’d been through my father’s affairs. I’d found nothing that justified his killing.

And now they threaten my mother, shoot up my father’s funeral, and…

And endanger Mae.

Fuck.

The anger that surges at the thought of her in danger overtakes me and I stop pacing. I don’t trust myself to move, to think, or even breathe for a few moments for fear of snapping a tendon because I’m so tense.

Seeing her was the freshest, most exhilarating moment of the entire day. And then it was ruined, up in smoke like the rest of my fucking life. The terror in her eyes when we stood in that graveyard will haunt me until the end of my days.

To top it off, she’s pissed at me. More than pissed. Understandable, but that didn’t make it easier for me to swallow. This turn of events with the Russians meant I’d have to go back to the city sooner rather than later.

But I couldn’t leave here on bad terms with her, not for a second time.

I had no idea if there was a way to make her see things from my view, to make her understand that Mafia didn’t mean whatever horrible things she was thinking. I just needed to get her to listen to me.

Just once so I could apologize, because leaving town with her pissed at me was not an option.

____

Mae’s mother’s place was just as quaint as I remembered. Small, tucked out of the way, and cradling the first curve of the forest, it really was quite beautiful. As a kid, I’d cycled past here often when on my way toward the lake. Who knew I would be here decades later, wrestling with feelings for a woman I’d been forced to leave behind?

I was facing the same decision yet again. The only difference was this time, it was my own choice and not my father’s.

Behind me, Jian sat in the car, patiently waiting for any hint of danger, and two other cars were parked up the street, ready to step in at a moment’s notice.

I’d taken lives. I’d tortured people for information, gunned down people from other Families and even kidnapped for my own gain. However, none of that made me as nervous as I was right this second, lifting my hand and knocking on Mae’s door. This could go one of two ways. I just wanted to walk out of here with my dignity intact.

Voices bubbled up from the other side of the door, followed by the sharp clink of metal, and then the door swung open.

Mae stood before me, looking every bit as delectable as she did in my memory, although a damn sight better than she looked last night. Her red hair spilled across her bare shoulders in loose waves, and her white dress was dotted with brightly colored flowers. It was secured by thin straps looping around her neck, and her pretty pink lips were fixed in a soft smile.

Until she looked at me.

Her smile vanished and a flash of thunder burst through those gorgeous green eyes. “What do you want?”

I was so infatuated with this woman that even having her snap at me felt like bliss. I smiled warmly at her and lightly adjusted the cuffs of my shirt as she stared me down.

“I want to talk.”

“Then find a mirror.” Mae moved to shut the door in my face, so I lifted one hand and caught it before she could.

“Mae, please. I want to explain.”

“There’s nothing you can say that I care to hear, so just leave—” Her words died as the sudden sharp blare of an alarm rose through the house behind her. Mae’s cheeks turned pink, and then she turned and dashed down the hall, leaving me standing there, holding the door open. The alarm continued to blare loud enough that my left ear cracked slightly, and I winced. Then I headed inside and followed her.

Down the corridor, I found Mae in the kitchen, where two very burned pieces of toast were drowning in the sink while she flung open a window. The smoke alarm died as a gust of warm summer air flooded the room. I breathed in, smelling only the sweet vanilla of Mae’s own scent.

“I didn’t say you could come in,” Mae snapped, darting about as she cleaned up the burned toast.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

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