Page 73 of Mob Boss's Second Chance

I let out a humorless chuckle, my smile thin, barely masking the fury simmering beneath. “Hilarious,” I say, voice laced with contempt. “Let me know when you come up with a more suitable solution.”

With that, I pivot toward the door, already dismissing them. I make a halt just at the threshold, looking over my shoulder. “And if the current situation doesn’t suit your taste, you’re free to leave.”

Silence. Thick, heavy, fearful silence.

I let it simmer, watch it spread across, savoring the knowledge that they know what I’m capable of.

My hand shoots out to grip the shoulder of the legal team’s representative. His body jerks slightly, and I feel the sharp inhale of his breath as my fingers tighten, forcing his shoulder into an uncomfortable slump.

They deserve this. Every single one of them.

“If you walk out that door,” I murmur, my voice deceptively calm but dangerously low, “there’s no coming back.”

The weight of my words lingers, suffocating, before I release him abruptly and push forward.

With that, I storm out, leaving a room full of cowards choking on their indecision. In the meantime, I have more pressing matters to attend to.

***

More pressing matters bring me to Natalie’s neighborhood, and I park two buildings ahead of hers, seated behind the driver’s wheel. My phone has been ringing nonstop, and most of the calls are from Anthony. I have nothing to say to him because I know what hehasto say.

As much as I wouldn’t trust Anthony, I know this presents him with the opportunity he’s always wanted—to take control.

Who wouldn’t?

The part that pisses me off? He’d try to convince me that it’s for the best, hiding behind a facade of greediness.

Where is she?

According to Sebastian, Natalie’s routine is somewhat unpredictable. She spends most of her time cooped up in her apartment with her best friend, Danielle, as her only visitor.

I wonder if it’s because of me.

I drag a hand down my face, exhaling slowly. She’s never been a social butterfly, but knowing I might’ve pushed her further into isolation weighs on me more than I care to admit.

The guilt doesn’t lessen. It lingers, festers, and demands my attention at the worst possible moments.

You should leave, Ethan.

The thought echoes in my head, a quiet warning as I stand there, unmoving. There’s no point to this. No reason to linger. If she showsup, I won’t make my presence known. And I have no intention of coming back to her—not now, not anytime soon.

So, why am I still here?

Jaw tight, I look through the rearview mirror, unable to tear my eyes off the entrance to her apartment building. As much as I know, I should drive away… I can’t.

It’s become unbearable—the long nights and dreams filled with longing. Sometimes, I catch a whiff of her, and it brings my senses to a halt. Other times, I run my hand across the desk and torture myself with memories.

Is this what it feels like to want someone? An incurable illness that slowly chips away at you until you become a shadow of your former self?

Until your current days and the past become intertwined?

“It’s madness,” I say aloud as I start the car and pick up my phone, intending to get Anthony’s silly antics over and done with. Just as I hit the dial button, I see her.

The phone slips from my hand.

Natalie, with her hand swept into a high ponytail—wearing a baseball jersey and jeans, walks down the street. Her hand is tucked into her pocket, and her strides are wider than usual, igniting my curiosity.

With each step she takes, the sun streaks through her ponytail, catching the auburn highlights hidden in her dark strands.

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