Page 68 of Triplets for the Mafia Prince

"Tell me what you're thinking about," she says, playing with my collar.

"Right now? How you manage to make this tired old place feel comfortable."

She laughs. "It's not so bad. Though I wouldn't mind real coffee instead of that instant stuff."

I run my hand along her spine, savoring her warmth. "Maybe I can tinker with the coffee maker and find out why it doesn’t work.”

“You might end up burning the house down, and then what would we do?”

I laugh, enjoying her banter. “That would be a problem.” I feel bad that she’s having to endure all this. It’s not my fault. The blame goes to her father and mine. But I want to fix it. “When this is all said and done, you can go to Italy and have the finest coffee in the world.”

"Promise?" Her gray eyes meet mine, and for a moment I forget about burner phones and escape routes. I forget about my father and all the darkness waiting outside our door.

"Promise."

She kisses me softly, and I want to drown in her and never come up for air. These quiet moments feel like another life wherewe're just a man and a woman sharing space, sharing touches, sharing peace.

“Can I go to France too?” she asks.

“Wherever you want.”

“They have good schools there, right? I always thought I might like to go to college.”

My chest tightens at the idea of a life without her in it. I force a smile. “There are many good schools throughout Europe. What would you study?”

She blinks and laughs. “I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it. I guess I’d take a class in everything and find out what I like.”

I nod, fighting the urge to pull her close and never let go. When did this happen? When did this fierce, brilliant woman become so essential to my existence?

"You're quiet," she says, studying my face.

"Just thinking how capable you are."

She deserves every opportunity, every chance to spread her wings. But the selfish part of me wants to clip those wings, keep her here with me.

"I could start with community college first," she muses. "I bet there’s one in Manhattan.”

My heart leaps at 'Manhattan' before I catch myself. I have no right to hope she'll stay close. No right to want her to limit herself for me. I'm too old, too damaged, too entrenched in this dark world.

"You should aim higher.” Each word is a betrayal of my true feelings.

She smiles, but the light in her eyes dims a little bit.

I brush a strand of hair from her face, remembering how she stood up to me at the cabin, how she saved my life when she could have run. That's real loyalty. I owe her my loyalty aswell, and that means helping her live her life free, away from the ugliness of organized crime.

“You should see the world, Bella. Get away from all this madness.”

"Maybe I want to stay close," she whispers, and I want to grab onto her words like a lifeline. But I can’t. Not if she’s going to have a chance at a full life.

"You deserve better than this life," I tell her. "Better than me."

24

BELLA

Isit in the living room of our small New Jersey hideout trying to pretend the monotony of my life isn’t getting to me. My old life feels like a distant dream now. The structured days at my father's house. The days at the cabin with Nic, falling for him despite knowing it was crazy to do so.

I stare into space, remembering how different things felt at the cabin. The isolation, the snow, the growing intimacy with Nic. It was like living in our own private world. Even with his injury and the danger, there was something magical about that time.

---