Page 48 of Owned by the Italian Mafia Boss
That’s when no one was looking.
Not knowing where she is, I pull out my phone and use the GPS to locate her. I follow the trail, passing a few people, and pretend not to hear their whispers about me. I do enjoy knowing people fear me. I like passing a group of people and knowing they recognize me.
Fear is the most powerful resource on the planet, and once I have someone’s fear in my hands, I can use it against them to get what I want. It’s an indispensable tool.
I stop at the door and realize it’s a private room. I don’t bother knocking. I stroll in, and Christy looks up, surprised, but Delilah doesn’t.
She isn’t wearing her ring.
I grind my teeth together to stop the rage, causing my fists to clench at my side.
“Oh, hi.” Caleb waves, but I ignore him.
Ethan is there, but he is sitting next to Christy. Good. I’m glad he took my ultimatum seriously.
I stand at the head of the table and splay my hands across the surface.
Soft. Be soft.
“Would anyone,” I try to relax the tightness in my jaw, “like a coffee?”
“You’re offering to get us coffee?” Christy sets her pen down and crosses her arms, looking from Delilah to me, knowing something is going on.
I nod. “I am.”
“What’s the catch?” she asks. “I don’t have a thousand bucks or anyone for you to take a hit out on.”
“Christy!” Ethan hisses.
“What? We all know that what happened at Delilah’s house wasn’t an accident or so-called,” she makes air quotes, “old fireworks going off.” She props her head in her hand and blinks at me. “Right?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” I’m not going to admit the truth. The less she knows, the better. I don’t like to be spoken to like that, and it’s taking every bit of my self-control not to show her the consequences of her disrespect. But Delilah would never forgive me. “There’s no catch. You’re studying hard. I want to help. So, would anyone like a coffee? Perhaps, some snacks?”
Delilah still won’t look at me, but her chin quivers. Her lips pinch as she blows out a breath. She’s trying not to cry.
I did that.
That’s my fault.
“I’ll take a large coffee with two shots of espresso and three pumps of caramel with the drizzle too. And I want whipped cream on top.”
“I’ll take that too,” Caleb says, kissing Christy on the cheek.
“Me too. If that’s okay,” Ethan asks, quietly. He doesn’t want to cross the line again.
“Sure. Delilah?” I ask her, hoping she’ll say something to me. Anything. I’ll take her cursing me out at this point, but the silence has to stop.
I didn’t realize I’d care so much so quickly. Even though she’s only been in my life for less than a week, I feel like I’ve known her forever. We fight like we have known each other forever, as if it’s a habit we can’t break.
“She’ll have the same thing,” Christy speaks up for her friend, knowing Delilah is angry with me.
My heart sinks, doing that fucking thing I don’t like for it to do. It’s annoying. How have people dealt with this constantly?
I bend down and move her hair from her shoulder. I don’t miss how she moves away from me, but I wrap my arm around the back of the chair so she can’t go anywhere.
“Sweetling, please talk to me,” I whisper into her ear, aching to hear her voice, needing to hear her anger.
Something is better than nothing, and I’ve been without anything for far too long to ever give up on thesomethingI have with her.
