Page 144 of He Should Be Mine
The words feel strange on my tongue. Unfamiliar. Forbidden. It is strange to think that if all goes well, I will be saying them often. This could be the first time of many.
Molly takes half a step back from me. Just enough to cause my hand to fall from his chin. He looks utterly unconvinced.
“This is my world, Molly. I know how it works. Trust me.”
He sighs. “Trust you? That’s all I ever do.”
“And how is it working out so far?” I tease, trying to make light of this moment.
Molly huffs. I reach out and put my arm around his waist. I pull him close to me and he comes. His lips meet mine and I kiss him.
I kiss him with all the love, passion, and need in my soul. All of my quiet desperation. Every note of my quiet, pleading prayer that this is not our last kiss.
His arms wrap around my neck, holding me to him. Not letting go. He whimpers and kisses me back with a desperation all of his own. As if he is trying to burn the feel of me deep into his memory, where he can keep it forever.
But I can’t stand in Carlo’s entrance hall and kiss Molly forever. As much as I want to.
I kiss him some more. I consume him. Devour him. Breathe him and absorb him into my soul.
Then, with every ounce of willpower I have ever trained for, I break the kiss and step backwards, away from Molly’s arms.
There are tears in Molly’s eyes, but he doesn’t say anything. We said it all with that kiss.
Silently, and with a heavy heart, I force my feet to move. One step and then the next. It doesn’t get any easier. But eventually I make it outside. To the broad, leafy London street. On the other side of a large, stout, and heavy door from Molly.
I take a deep breath and I start walking. It is a nice day. The sun is shining. It’s warm but there is a tang of autumn in the air. A scent that whispers this could be the last nice day of the season.
I think I will walk all the way. The Don’s London residence is only a few blocks from here. It will give me time to clear my head and pull myself together.
And if I leave the car, and the worst happens, Molly will be able to sell it. He will have some cash to tide him over.
Shit. I never did meet with my lawyer to rewrite my will and leave Molly everything. I thought I had a few more weeks. Damn it!
I pull my phone out of my pocket. My thumb flies over the screen as I tap out an email to my lawyer, makingit clear that this is an order that needs to be obeyed immediately.
I tell him to change my will. Forge my signature and the witnesses. Send me a picture as soon as it is done.
It feels strange to give Molly’s legal name. As if it is not really him. In my heart, he will always be Molly. Hopefully, one day soon, Molly Ajello.
I shove my phone back in my pocket, and slow my pace. I want that photo before I walk into the lion’s den. If I have to die, Molly needs to have all of my wealth. He can’t worry about a single thing for the rest of his life.
My footsteps thud against the pavement. Around me, London buzzes. People go about their normal lives, their normal days. For them, this is not a day that rewrites their entire future.
I suck in another breath. One way or another, this will all be over soon. By sunset I will know my fate. I will either be dead. Or the Ajello heir.
Or locked in Dante’s basement.
I shudder and cast that thought far, far from my mind. It’s unlikely to happen. If I have fucked up and the Don is not glad that Riccardo is gone, he will probably put his gun to my forehead and pull the trigger.
Like for like.
Traditional. It is how it is done.
And the Don is certainly traditional.
Except he was fine with Riccardo being gay. I swallow tightly.
The Don not being as traditional as he seems, could be a good thing. It could mean all sorts of things are possible. I frown as my thoughts whirl. Does it mean that once thedust has settled, he will be fine with me being gay? Could he ever accept Molly?
