Page 61 of Mob Boss's Second Chance

“For what happened. I’ve been away for the longest time, so I had no idea… it—” Ethan exhales in a quick burst like speaking has become difficult for him, then drags his hand over his face. “I should’ve been there. I shouldn’t have let it happen. I’m sorry, Natalie.”

Oh.

Oh.

He’s talking about the kitchen incident.

The one where I was made to feel like a party favor, passed around for everyone to enjoy. I did my best to put it behind me after I quit, shoving it down my gut every time it propped up.

Listening to him say it feels like a sharp kick to my chest, and I bite down hard on my lip. “It’s fine,” my voice comes out as a near whisper. “You weren’t supposed to protect me. It’s not you who hired me or anything.”

Somethinglikehurt flashes through his eyes, but it’s quickly replaced by regret. “No,” Ethan shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. Itshouldn’t have happened anyway. I’m sorry—I’m sorry I left for a long time.”

Why?I want to ask.

Why did you go? Did I suddenly become someone unimportant? Anyone would assume that having sex a couple of times and stealing moments behind closed doors would mean something.

It probably didn’t mean much to Ethan because he’s not telling me why he left. He’s just sorry that he did.

But it mattered to me. And the realization that I actually cared, that I waited a week to hear from him—settles in my gut like a heavy stone. Embarrassment mixes with frustration, twisting into something sharp.

I’m not just angry at him for leaving. I’m angry at myself for letting it affect me.

“It’s fine,” I shrug, even though the words refuse to settle. “I accept your apology. I… I was attending to something when you knocked, so I should probably get back to it.”

“Natalie.” The sound of my name on his lips, drawn out like a strangled plea, stops me from turning. I look at him, searching through his soft eyes as they gaze at me. “Natalie…” He reaches out but doesn’t take my hand.

It’s almost as if he’s respecting my boundaries.

“I would never do that to you,” he says in a low voice. “I would never let another man touch you or treat you like a commodity. When I found out what happened, I went after them. I—” He glances down at his hands, and I see the scrapes on his knuckles.

Where did he get them from?

Ethan’s face is hardened when he looks at me again. “Let’s just say I made sure they’d never look at you again.”

What is he talking about? Thoughts run through my mind, and the endless possibilities of things he could’ve inflicted on them are so graphic they make me gasp.

“What did you do?”

His eyes darken, not with anger at me, but with something raw and unrelenting. A storm barely contained beneath the surface. His jaw tics, muscles tightening as his hands flex at his sides.

“I did what needed to be done,” he says, his voice low and edged with steel.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t reach for me, but his entire body is taut, from his squared shoulders to his chest rising and falling in slow, controlled breaths.

Like he’s forcing himself to stay composed. Like the rage still lingers just beneath his skin, begging to be unleashed again.

I swallow hard. “Ethan…”

His gaze locks onto mine, sharp and unyielding. “They won’t touch you again. They won’t even look at you again.”

The weight of his words sends a shiver down my spine. My mind races, piecing together the brutal possibilities. The violence he’s capable of. The lengths he’d go to—for me.

I inhale sharply. I can only imagine, but I need to know. “What did you do?”

He takes a step forward, and his expression turns gentle once more. “It doesn’t matter. I’m here to apologize. I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you, Natalie.”

Knowing that he’d go to lengths to amend a wrong done to me should be enough. Knowing that he has that same look in his eyes—as though he wants me in ways only actions can show.

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