Page 29 of Inherting the Mafia

His brow furrowed. "Landing?"

"We're in Italy."

Tony snapped up as if just realizing now that he was sleeping on me. He frowned as he glanced around and then huffed, rubbing his eyes. "How long have I been asleep?"

"About four hours." I was pretty sure he needed the sleep, which is why I hadn't woke him up when he started leaning on me. "We'll get you some coffee once we land."

Tony groaned. "Coffee."

I couldn't stop the small smile that crossed my lips. He really was adorable. That could be a problem in so many ways. The first problem I could see was that I didn't think he had the hard streak needed to be a mafia boss. It took a certain hardness and lack of emotion. Tony seemed too sweet for that.

The second more pressing problem was personal. His cuteness was getting to me. I really liked looking at him. I liked listening to him and touching him. I even liked his sarcastic nature.

That did not bode well for me.

Hiding who I was had kept me alive. If word got out that I was gay, I'd be dead for sure. If word got out that I was interested in my boss, I'd be tortured before I was killed.

At this point, I still didn't know if he was gay or straight, although I was leaning toward gay simply because of the appreciative looks I'd seen him give me a couple of times.

Didn't mean anything could ever happen between us.

There needed to be a clear line between the boss and everyone else. He was the top of pile, so to speak. The king of the hill. He made the rules and ensured that they were enforced.

We were his enforcers. We were dispensable. We followed the rules he laid down. We did not covet the boss or think of what he must look like naked and spread out all over a bed. We certainly did not think about what it would be like if we climbed into that bed with him.

God, I was so screwed.

"Put your seatbelt on," I reminded him as I did the same.

As soon as the plane started to go down, Tony grabbed my hand and squeezed the hell out of it. If he squeezed any harder, bones were going to crack.

"Is it always like this?" Tony asked in a very high tone.

"Pretty much."

"Why do people do this?" His wide eyes framed his face until he snapped them shut and his grip tightened on my hand.

I chuckled at his question. "Millions of people fly every single day. It's perfectly safe."

It was actually safer than driving a car. It was just that a plane crashing made the news, where most car accidents did not, so everyone freaked out about flying.

Tony let out a small whimper when the wheels touched down. He was shaking so hard, I could feel it through the hand he had wrapped around mine.

As soon as all the wheels were on the tarmac, I wrapped an arm around Tony's shoulders and hugged him. "It's over now. We're down."

"Some mafia boss I am."

"Your grandfather was afraid of spiders."

Tony lifted his head and blinked at me. "Spiders?"

"Yep, didn't matter how big or how small. If he saw a spider, he screamed like a little girl. We had to spray for spiders around the villa about once a week."

Tony let out a little snort. "I can handle spiders."

"I'll let the groundskeeper know. He'll be thrilled." I patted his back once and then let him go. "There's nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone is afraid of something."

"What are you afraid of?"

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