Page 3 of Mob Boss's Second Chance

Shit. I should’ve clarified that when I first spoke. Now, I look like an imposter—not the first impression I wanted to make.

Ethan Cross doesn’t respond, but his glare doesn’t soften either. Instead, it feels like I’m being scrutinized from the inside out. It doesn’t help that he’s taller than me, at least a head taller and more imposing.

The silence stretches on until I’m forced to say something.

“Do you want me to call Mr. Anthony?”Not making the name mistake twice.“I’m sure he’ll clear things up. And there’s no way I could’ve gotten through your security without a verified form of identification,” I throw in my last resort with a nervous laugh.

It doesn’t work.

Where’s a sinkhole when you need one?

Thankfully, the sound of footsteps approaching ends the interrogation. I’ve never been happier to see someone, and relief courses through me when it turns out to be Anthony Cross.

The other cousin is less like Jack Frost, with wide-rimmed glasses and a smaller build, although the same height and a smile that warms the sun from miles away.

“Miss Monroe!” He calls out, opening his arms as he doubles his stride. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to greet you sooner. I had to attend to some things and… well…” He clicks his tongue.

Then he turns to Ethan and chuckles. “I see you’ve met Ethan. I hope he didn’t frighten you? He has the effortless charm of a walk-in freezer.”

Something between a chortle and a snort escapes my lips, but it dies almost immediately when I catch Ethan’s glare.

“No,” I shake my head and smile, “I was just explaining to Mr. Cross that you hired me for the event.”

“Ah, yes,” Anthony nods as he slings an arm around my shoulder. It’s almost too natural, and I don’t notice until he makes a sweeping gesture from me to Ethan.

Ethan’s scowl is still on, like a CD frozen in place.He could do better without it, but it doesn’t affect his appearance, so who am I to judge?

Anthony snaps his fingers, his face lighting up as if suddenly remembering. “My bad. I forgot to tell him. Ethan—” He grins “—meet Natalie Monroe. She comes highly recommended. She’ll be overseeing the party on Saturday. I told her she has free rein over everything because, well, the budget is unlimited. Right?”

Right?

Ethan sighs, the sound low and deliberate, as if Anthony’s words are a minor inconvenience in a much larger world of problems.

For the briefest moment, I catch a flicker of something in his expression—an eyebrow twitch, maybe, or a barely perceptible tightening of his jaw. His gaze shifts in my direction, and for a second, it feels like the air between us grows heavier.

Then, just as quickly, his attention snaps back to Anthony.

“You’re in charge,” Ethan says with a shrug, his tone detached. “I have other things to worry about.”

Without another glance, he turns on his heel and walks away, his broad frame cutting an effortless path through the yard.

I watch him go, the encounter leaving a strange mix of curiosity and unease in its wake. I’m almost certain that there was something in his parting look, but I doubt it was anything friendly.

He looks incapable of it.

Before I can dwell on it, Anthony pulls me closer, lowering his voice as he leans in conspiratorially. “Don’t take it to heart,” he says with a reassuring smile. “Ethan’s like that with everybody. It’s not personal, I promise.”

“Oh,” I force a laugh and wave my hand, “it’s nothing. I didn’t introduce myself properly when he showed up.”

Anthony laughs and pats my shoulder. It’s almost as if physical contact and making everyone feel like they’re part of some family comes naturally to him.

“You’re a good sport. I knew I did the right thing by hiring you.”

At least I passed someone’s first impression.

“The party is in three days,” he says as he rubs his hands together. “The crew I hired is running late, but they’ll be here in no time. If you need anything,” he shoots me a finger and clicks his tongue, “just let me know. My resources are at your disposal.”

“Thank you,” I say.

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