Page 108 of He Should Be Mine
My renewed hatred for the world is stinging in my veins. Like a thousand internal paper cuts. As it has done since my date with Molly on the yacht.
It was a wonderful date. Perfect in every single way. Molly is delightful company.
I’m not bitter about that. I’m bitter about everything Molly has endured and how that became so blindingly apparent during our date.
I’ve always thought he burned brightly, but he really came alive on the yacht. His inner light was incandescent. Almost too bright to look at.
He loved everything about the yacht and the whole experience. He was thrilled and delighted with every single thing. Even the fucking dessert spoon had him enraptured because it was etched with flowers.
The very last of Molly’s walls came down, and I saw him. All of him. And it was so beautiful it hurt. It burned, and the pain was exquisite as well as bittersweet.
He really is a shining light. Full of exuberance and joy. Brimming with kindness and goodness.
He must have been an adorable child. Sweet. Full of love and curiosity. Affectionate.
Then the world chewed him up and spat him out. Gave him jagged edges and a splintered soul. Tired eyes and a smile that is far too often false.
He was never meant to suffer and try to survive all alone. He should have been cherished and adored. Protected and sheltered. From the very day he was born.
Molly is too good for this cruel world.
Despite everything he has been through, his light has only been dimmed, not broken.
For the rest of his life, I’m going to be a shadow to his flame. Basking in his magnificence. Always by his side. Connected to him. Unescapable.
I will be his shield. His protector. The only darkness in his life is going to be me.
My attention snaps to Dante as he slinks in quietly into the roped-off lounge area. His dark eyes meet mine briefly, and I give him a nod. He looks around at all the exits and then he takes a seat on the plush red leather couch. As soon as he sits down, a server hurries over with a drink.
Carlo and Nicolo greet him briefly. Raising their glasses in a casual salute. Then all eyes are on me. Waiting. Expecting.
I lean back in my chair, and I allow my confidence and determination to show in every line of my body. I have never minded leading. I just thought that life had other plans for me. I assumed I was destined to be Riccardo’s side-kick for the rest of my days.
It is funny how fate can change. Meet the right person and suddenly you are forging your own future. Seizing your agency and making choices.
My gaze focuses on Nicolo. “Report.”
He nods in acquiescence and begins.
He rattles off a surprisingly long list of names of people who have been brought on board. I knew Riccardo had pissed a lot of people off? But this many?
I won’t let any ideas go to my head about my popularity. Yes, I have always been steadfast. Competent and reliable. But I don’t think those traits inspire people to want to follow you. Leadership is a far more nuanced thing. I’m just lucky that Riccardo is an asshole who loves to throw his status around and have other people clean up his messes.
I’m also lucky he is so very English seeming, and that the mafia is filled with old-fashioned souls who wish to cling on to their roots. It is ironic that heritage and tradition are going to enable me to keep my flamboyant Molly.
Of course, all of this could be irrelevant. People could simply be power hungry and seeing opportunity in change and upheaval.
Whatever their motivations, I’ll take it. Anything that gives me the power to get Molly to safety, is just fine by me. As for always having to watch my back, that’s a given. Life as the heir is not going to be easy. I’m not foolish enough to think this fealty I’m being offered is permanent. I have not earned anyone’s loyalty. Not yet. And for some, not ever. Their loyalty will always be available to the highest bidder.
It is a ruthless, dog eat dog world out here. Despite how much the mafia tries to cling to honor.
Nicolo finishes his report. Dante gives his. Followed by Carlo.
Everything is in motion. It is all going more or less as planned. It is just going to take time. More fucking time. The one thing I don’t want to give. More time means more danger for Molly. More risk that Riccardo will do something awful.
It means I have to wait longer to have Molly in my arms and never, ever let him go.
Three pairs of eyes are staring at me. I blink, and then slowly raise my glass to my lips. I take a leisurely sip.
