Page 43 of Mob Boss's Second Chance

Not one to play it nice, are you?I muse. Her easy-going, fluffy demeanor is gone, replaced by a glint in her eye. If she’s not a spy, she’d make a good one. The duality would fool most men. Whether I’m being tricked is yet to be seen.

“Your parents,” I say, putting out the first thing that comes to mind. “Where are they?” I remember Anthony told me she has no family. If she lies—

Her face drops, and she exhales softly. “Dead. They died in a drive-by shooting. The cops said there was heavy gang activity in that area, but they didn’t know.” Her voice takes on a somber note, andshe looks straight again, gazing into the past. “They were there to visit a friend.”

She turns to me, and I see tears glistening in her eyes. “They never made it out of the car.”

It feels like her pain slices straight through me, sharp and aching, much like the phantom burn from the scar running down my back. I close my eyes briefly, forcing myself to block it out, to stay in control. My hand reaches instinctively for the tissue box, sliding it across the table toward her.

“Thank you,” Natalie whispers, her voice soft and tremulous as she hangs her head low. “I didn’t mean to get all emotional there. It’s just… I haven’t spoken about them aloud in months, and it just—” Her words cut off with a shaky inhale.

I clench my fists, my fingers itching to close the distance, to pull her into my arms and reassure her that it’s okay to feel, to hurt.

But I stay rooted, forcing my hands to remain where they are. Restraint feels like a punishment, but I remind myself that this isn’t the moment for me—it’s hers.

The door opens then, cutting the moment short as Anthony walks in. He doesn’t notice what he’s walked into or the single tear on Natalie’s cheek as she lifts her head.

“What’s up?” He grins, slapping his hand on my desk. “I had a nap, and then I realized it was pretty quiet. Too quiet, in fact.”

He sees the food on the floor and turns to me with an accusing glare. “What did you do, Ethan? I told her—tell me you didn’t act out? Natalie’s just doing her job.”

“Oh, no,” Natalie quickly shakes her head, cutting in before I can throw myself under the bus. “It was my mistake. I was going to clean it up, but Mr. Cross asked me to leave it be.”

Anthony’s eyebrow arches and his skepticism is clear as his gaze shifts between the two of us. A slow, amused smile spreads across his face, and he leans back slightly, crossing his arms. “Well, well, look, who’s a gentleman?” His voice drips with playful sarcasm.

I sigh, running a hand over my face. “It wasn’t a big deal,” I mutter, more to myself than anyone else.

And I wish he wouldn’t call me a gentleman. A gentleman wouldn’t kiss Natalie the way I did orfuckher against the desk.

He wouldn’t wish he could do it again, either.

But Anthony chuckles, clearly enjoying this far too much. “Not a big deal? You, Ethan Cross, leaving a mess in your office? That’s unheard of,” he teases, then turns to Natalie. “You’ve done something remarkable. I don’t know what it is, but keep it up.”

Natalie shifts uncomfortably under his gaze, giving me a quick, uncertain glance. “I—it’s nothing, really,” she says, trying to downplay the situation.

Anthony grins knowingly as though he’s just uncovered a secret, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “Yeah, sure,” he says with a smirk. “Nothing at all.”

“I should go,” she says hesitantly. “My work hours are over.”

“I’ll drive you,” I offer, jumping to the task. Anything to get away from Anthony and spend more time with her.

My offer is refused with both hands and the hurt is immediate. She exits the office like she can’t stand to be in our presence any longer, closing the door behind her.

Anthony sits on the vacated chair, facing me with a mischievous smile. “What has Natalie Monroe done to my cousin?”

“Have you figured out who sold us to the prosecutor’s office?” I change the subject, bursting his bubble.

He groans. “No, but I’m still working on it.”

“Well, we need to work a little faster, or we’ll be in more trouble than either of us can fathom,” I say, half to him and half to myself, the weight of the situation pressing down on my chest like a vice.

I should be relieved that Natalie rejected my offer. Right now, the only thing I can afford to care about is saving the legacy my father built, the one I swore to uphold.

If I don’t act fast, everything he fought for, everything he sacrificed, will crumble.

And I’ll have no one to blame but myself.

Chapter Thirteen

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