Page 140 of Dirty Mafia King
New day, new regrets? Is that what this is about? Is he regretting overstepping boundaries?
“This is what you want?” Freido presses.
Silence follows.
“Fuck me blind,” Freido exclaims. “Didn’t see that coming.”
“Just leave the box on the counter,” Bastian replies, “and leave me in peace to figure things out.”
“I’d say you’ve already done that.”
Too late, I realize where I’m standing, and how this will be perceived.
Freido notices me immediately.
I rush to explain. “I was going to the kitchen to make breakfast …”
“He’s out of his bleeding mind,” Freido informs me in a low voice. “Don’t let him pressure you into anything, okay?”
“Like what?” My excitement is palpable. Pressure me into doing what, exactly?
Freido snaps his fingers in my face. “Just make decisions based on what’s best for you both, okay?”
I nod.
Freido passes by me.
“I love him.”
He turns. “You love him.”
“Yes.”
He rolls his neck. “Does he know?”
“I haven’t told him—I’m only figuring it out.”
“You’re young.”
My lips draw tight. “So I heard.”
“Then you know he has control issues.”
“I like that about him.”
He offers me a look like I’ve lost my mind, then continues down the hallway.
I enter a clean and tidy kitchen. Last night’s dishes are cleaned up and the pots and pans back in place. Bastian looks out the window while crunching a cardboard box in his fist. Beautiful, powerful, andmine.
“Do pancakes with peach preserves sound good?”
He doesn’t answer right away, but prowls across the room and tosses the crumpled box into the trash before approaching me.
He kisses my forehead, and I sigh with pleasure and relief.
“You plugged up like a good girl?” he murmurs, nuzzling my neck.
“Yes.”
