Page 60 of Triplets for the Mafia Prince

I work quickly, removing the plates from my car and switching them out for another. I get back in and drive to the location I indicated for Bella to meet me. It feels like fucking forever. Worry niggles my gut. Is she turning herself in? Has someone stopped her?

Finally, she comes out carrying several large bags.

“What the fuck?” I snap at her as she tosses all but one in the back seat and then gets into the passenger seat.

“You’ll thank me when you have clean underwear.”

I look back and see she’s bought clothes.

She opens the wrapper of a granola bar. “Want one?” She holds up the box.

I shake my head, irritated but not wanting to argue with her. What’s done is done. I pull out of the parking lot and head east.

"Where are we going?" she asks.

"New York.”

After hours of driving,watching both the road and our mirrors for threats, I spot signs for a small resort town in Pennsylvania. We’re over halfway back to New York, but I’m tired, I’m sure Bella is too, and I want another night to figure out what the hell I’m going to do when I’m back home.

The winter resort town is a perfect spot. Tourists means transient populations where two more faces won't draw attention. I pull off the main road with the big name hotels and follow the signs to a locally owned resort. I pull into a weathered motel, its neon sign flickering weakly against the darkening sky. It’s the kind of place that's seen better days, where security probably consists of a single camera at reception, if that. The type of establishment that won't look too closely at cash payments or ask uncomfortable questions.

I put on the ball cap and enter the reception area. The clerk barely glances up from his phone as he hands over a key to room 112.

“Building C.”

I take the key and return to the car, driving to the location he indicated. As we get out of the car, I scan the parking lot and the surrounding buildings, noting exits and potential threats.

I take her suitcase as she grabs her bags, and we enter the room. The room itself is dated but clean enough. Two beds, as I requested, basic amenities, and a window facing the back lot for a quick escape if needed.

Bella makes her way to the bathroom. “Oh, wow.”

“What?” I head over, hoping it’s not a dead animal or something.

“It’s got a garden tub. I guess when this was built, it was a nice place. They just haven’t remodeled in a long time.”

Like thirty years would be my guess based on the mauve rug and accents.

Bella’s face is lit up at the sight of the tub.

"Go ahead, take a bath," I tell her. "I need to grab some food and a burner phone."

Her expression shifts to worry. "Is it safe for you to go out?"

“It’ll be fine. Keep the door locked. If anyone knocks, don’t answer.”

She nods. “Be careful.”

The genuine concern in her voice hits me in unexpected ways. I'm used to people fearing for their lives around me, not fearing for mine.

Unable to stop myself, I cup her face with my hand, my thumb brushing her cheek. "I'll be back before your bath gets cold." I want to kiss her. Hell, I want to fuck her again, but I’ve vowed not to do that. I gave her what she asked for, what we both wanted, but this isn’t a relationship. Soon, she’ll be off living her life and I’ll be heading my father’s organization.

I leave her, heading out into the cold night air, scanning for potential threats. Nothing seems out of place, but in my world, that doesn't mean much. My father taught me early that the deadliest predators are the ones you never see coming.

Twenty-five minutes later, I return with two burner phones and a bag of burgers with fries.

“You okay?” I call out as I set my stash on the table.

“Yep. Did you get something to drink? I’m thirsty.”

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