Page 64 of Mistletoe in the Mafia

“Don’t freak out, Madelyn. Just listen to me, okay? I know a lot of things. I know you’ve been in witness protection with the FBI since you were twelve. I know they changed your identity. Your real name isn’t Madelyn Flores, it’s Madelyn Solis, which was your mother’s maiden name before she died. I know you had to move schools and locations three times after your mother’s death. I know Collin Benson was in charge of your mother’s case. You might not know this, but I’m pretty sure he was responsible for sponsoring your education until you graduated college. He can be annoying, strait-laced, and boring, but he’s nice like that. Joshua’s dad?—”

“Wait, wait, slow down,” I breathe, lifting a palm in the air to stop him. My head swims with all the information he’s just provided. “How? How do you know all of that?”

“I know a lot of things, baby. But there’s only one thing I don’t know, and it’s eating at me. I don’t know what happened to your mother. How did she die?”

I scoff, running a hand through my air while trying to get over the shock of this situation. “Are you fucking kidding me right now, Dominic?”

He doesn’t reply, his jaw clenched.

“I knew there had to be a reason you approached me but this… what would you even do with that information? Why do you care? Have you been using me all this time?”

“Of course not,” he snaps. “You think I could have been faking it this entire time? Do you really believe that every touch, every look, every single fucking thing we’ve had together has been a lie? Look me in the eye and say you believe that.”

My fists clench and I look away because he’s right. He might be a cold-hearted asshole at times, but he’s an asshole who cares about me.

“I don’t like talking about my mother, Dominic,” I say tiredly after a few more tense moments.

He steps forward again, standing in front of me. The scent of his cologne has a strange calming effect on me and I inhale softly, breathing him in. It’s amazing how much peace he’s able to bring me. One look into those gray eyes and my heart melts.

He slides a stray stand of hair behind my ear and I lean my cheek against his warm palm.

“I’ll protect you,” he says softly.

I stare up at him, confused. “From what?”

“From the pain.”

“How could you possibly do that?”

“I’ll make it stop hurting. I’ll take it away. Just tell me and I’ll do it. I promise, baby.”

My heart speeds up. I’ve always known that Dominic possesses a darkness I’ll probably never be able to understand.But that darkness has always called to me, tempered mine, and if that darkness could assist me in finally finding the closure I deserve, then I have every intention of depending on it.

I suck in a deep breath before the truth tumbles out of me.

“As you already know, I was twelve when she died. My mother was amazing, bright, full of light. A lot like me, actually, but in her case she was genuine about how much she loved the world and people and nature. I sometimes wonder how someone as wonderful as her ended up with someone like my father,” I say on a snarl, then I shake my head because he’s not the one we’re talking about right now. Mom is.

“The day she died, we went on a walk. It was late in the afternoon. I didn’t have school that day, and because we’d spent most of it indoors, she suggested we leave the house for a bit. My mom was awful at staying still,” I say fondly. “We lived in a small, nearly abandoned neighborhood back then. We were walking down the street when a car suddenly parked right beside us.

“Mom was confused. She tried to approach, wondering who it was and what the person wanted. Then he stepped out. A tall man wearing a skull mask, bald with blue eyes. I was so scared when I saw him. My mom was obviously concerned, but she wasn’t scared. Probably because it was broad daylight. I remember she even asked if the man was celebrating Halloween early. That was my mom, always making jokes in uncomfortable situations,” I say with a bitter smile.

“A lot like someone I like,” Dominic says softly, running his fingers over my cheek.

I feel a shiver run through me as the memories from that day assault me.

“You’re okay, Flowers. I’m right here.”

I nod once, exhaling a soft breath.

“Things took a turn pretty quickly. It all happened so fast. The man in the skull mask didn’t even speak. He just pulled a knife out of his jacket. Which is about the time my mom decided to start backing away. With each step we took backward, he took another one toward us, until eventually we were just running. She screamed as loud as she could for help. But either no one was around to help us, or they just didn’t care. He caught up to us, dragged her down to the ground and away from me, and then he stabbed her in the side.”

“He wore a skull mask?” Dominic murmurs, and I notice he’s grown tenser.

“Yes, he did.”

“Okay, keep going,” he prompts. “You’re doing great, baby.”

We’re getting to the worst parts now. The reason I have nightmares. Watching my mother get murdered was traumatizing, but what’s stuck with me more over the years was the guilt. It’s the main reason I joined the FBI. I need closure about my mom’s death. I need to find him, to ask him why he chose her, to ask him why he took her away.

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