Page 78 of Mob Boss's Second Chance

“Sir—” Perpetual notices as I breeze past her desk. “Sir—are you heading somewhere? You have a meeting—”

The fury in my eyes as I halt and glance over my shoulder has her staggering back in wild fright. “I’ll attend to them later,” I sound like a record scrubbed clean, like the darkening clouds before a storm. “You can take the rest of the day off.”

Ignoring her visible swallow, I whirl again and continue, my fist curling with the plans I have for Anthony.

***

My phone rings sharply as I enter the car, and I’m tempted to ignore it for a moment—keeping my momentum fixed on finding Anthony, but I still reach into my pocket.

It’s Leonard.

My forehead pinches at the center, and my mouth presses into a thin line. “You picked a fucking sweet time to call, Leonard,” I say. “You should’ve stayed in the hole you burrowed deep until the dirt filled your lungs.”

“I—I—” he stammers, and my lips curl into a quiet, disdainful sneer. “I’m sorry, boss. I didn’t know what to do. I promise you, I wasn’t going to tell them anything, but Mr. Cross said I had to cooperate—” his voice trembles, “because he was now in charge.”

Anthony. Anthony.Anthony.

My jaw tightens, the muscles clenching so hard it feels like it might snap. When did my cousin decide to betray me? Was it when I took over from my father or before my father died?

“But… there’s something else, boss.”

“What do you want?” I snap, revving the engine of my car to life. “Mercy? A second chance?”

“Royale. The casino. The restaurant in Delaware. Someone set them on fire.”

I don’t have to ask.

I know who is responsible.

Instead of the explosive rage I expect, something calm comes over me. Not acceptance… no. It’s an eerie calm, the kind that precedes a storm. It’s a dead finality—because if I had a shred of mercy to spare before, it no longer exists.

“I’ll be at Royale soon. Curtail the fire from spreading to other buildings. And Leo?” I pause, letting the silence stretch with the weight of my unspoken threat, “My delayed response to your action is not an act of forgiveness.”

I’m done giving those out.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Natalie

I’m having the worst day of my life.

In theory, that isn’t necessarily true. If you weigh the variables of the past couple of weeks—from getting my heart shattered by a man who hid his true self from me to the horrifying possibility that he might have had a hand in my parents’ deaths… then a little dizziness is nothing.

The nausea creeping up my throat must be a stomach bug—or the aftermath of consuming way too many sweets.

Overloading processed sugar has become my guilty pleasure lately, a crutch I lean on when reality feels too unbearable. Then again, I’ve been really peculiar about my cravings. I don’t know if they added a new ingredient to the gummy bears, but they taste amazing.

Proving mypoint, Idig my hand into the front pocket of my overalls and grab a handful of gummy bears. I look towards the open door and shove them into my mouth when I see that no one is watching.

Guilt cloaks me as I chomp down, but I remind myself that I’ve been compensating for the endless sugar intake by covering back-to-back gigs. I’ve been working nonstop, making plans and dealing with people, that each night when I cuddle an ice cream bowl, I tell myself it’s well deserved.

“Phew,” I exhale, reaching mindlessly for the nagging ache just above my spine. “I need to sit.”

Before I can grab a seat, a child strolls into the kitchen of the house where I’ll be stuck for the next couple of hours—his mouth covered in cake icing. “My mom says I should tell you that it’s almost time for the hor d’oeuvres,” he says.

“Oh, I—”

His errand must’ve interrupted his cake-gorging because he turns and promptly exits the kitchen without waiting for a response.

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