Page 32 of Ruthless Mafia Heir

Blake is still watching me carefully, like he’s wondering if he can take back everything he just said to me. I can tell he’s not used to coming clean with people the way he did with me. It's obvious that he’s struggling with the enormity of what he just told me, and I don’t blame him. Admitting all of that, it’s huge, bigger than I can even begin to wrap my head around.

But, at the same time, it makes sense. I can’t imagine what it’s been like for him, living the way he has been. He’s been trapped in this world with no way out, forced to conform to the standards and rules that have been laid out for him by the very virtue of his family name. I always thought being this rich came with more freedom than I would know what to do with, but there’s clearly more to it than that.

"Are you going to leave now?" he demands. His voice is arched with tension, almost doubt, which isn’t something I’m used to hearing from him.

I raise my eyebrows. "You really think I can just walk out of here? You’ve had your men control me every step of the way. Everything I’ve done, it’s been with one of them hanging over my shoulder."

He looks at me for a long moment. "You’re right," he mutters. "But you never said whether you’d try to get out again."

I lock eyes with him and think. "I could," I reason out loud. "I probably should, really, with the way you’ve treated me. Pulling the strings on my entire life, it’s fucked up. There’s no way around that."

He grimaces and nods. I should throw this wine in his face. The version of me I was when we first met, shit, maybe she would have done just that. She would have screamed at him for trying to tell her how to live her life and stormed out before he could do anything else.

But the version I am now, this woman, I can see something underneath the surface, something dark, but also something vulnerable, some guy who wants to be better. He doesn’t know how to be with a woman he actually likes because he’s so used to calling the shots on every little thing that happens.

"But you didn’t have to do all of that to get close to me."

"What does that mean?"

"What does it sound like?" I reply, almost laughing. Is he so caught up in this world he lives in that he can’t even imagine that someone would want to be with him? With all the games his people play, he can’t imagine that I would stay because I wanted to.

"I mean, I appreciate you being honest with me," I go on softly, reaching out to cup his face in my hand. "And I... I want to see more of that from you. I want to see the guy who can be honest with me, the guy who can come clean and tell me how he really feels. Not the guy who keeps me guessing. Or keeps me locked up."

"So, what are you saying?"

I take a deep breath, my voice a little shaky as I come out with it. "I mean... I mean I’ll stay here with you. As long as you promise me that I can leave whenever I want. And that I’m not going to be trailed by your men when I do."

He parts his lips, about to protest, but I shake my head.

"I know you’re not used to letting people do what they want. I get that. I know it’s not going to be easy for you. I just... I need you to understand me, Blake. I like you. I... I feel something between us, I’d be stupid to deny that. But that doesn’t mean I’m just going to back down and let you call the shots. That’s not who I am. And I don’t think that’s who you want me to be either, huh?"

He shakes his head. He takes my hand and plants a kiss against my palm. The feel of his warm breath against my skin sends a shiver down my spine.

"When I first met you," he confesses, "that night, after the talk, and you just— you talked to me like nobody else, nobody who knows who I am, anyway. And it was so refreshing, having someone look at me as Blake, not as some… as some heir, as some rich kid, as some..."

He trails off. He clearly doesn’t want to fill in the rest of that sentence, and I can’t say I blame him. I can only imagine how far down this goes, how dark it gets. It scares me, to some extent. But when he’s touching me, I feel like I could take on anything, the world and more, twice over, no questions asked.

"You really want to stay here with me?" he asks, and for a moment, he seems so doubtful, so vulnerable—this man, who has been nothing but in control all this time, giving way to something more. I get up and slide onto his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Yeah, I do. Under my own terms, though. Not under surveillance. And not with you getting in the way of everything I try to do. Understand?"

He grits his teeth. It’s not going to come easy to him, that much I can tell for sure. But, finally, he nods.

"I guess I could give that a try."

"Good," I murmur as I feel the smile curl my lips. Slowly, I tilt my head down to kiss him, my lips grazing lightly against his. I don’t know what the hell I’ve just gotten myself into, but I know there’s a part of me that wants this man, and right now, that is the part of me I’m willing to listen to.

No matter what kind of trouble it lands me in.

Chapter Twenty—Blake

When I stir, I can sense at once that something is wrong.

I lift my head from the pillow and glance around. It’s not her. She’s lying right there next to me, as she’s done every night for the past ten days or so. The two of us have fallen asleep in each other’s arms night after night, dozing off when we’re too tired of fooling around to keep our eyes open.

Each evening, she’s gotten back from work or classes—in her own time, under her own steam, despite my best efforts to convince her to let me pay for a cab or a driver—and has come to my family’s estate, where we’ve spent the nights together.

"I could get used to this," she told me one evening when I got the cook to put together a gorgeous plate of meats and cheeses and fresh bread to enjoy in the garden.

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