Page 1 of Christmas with the Mafia
One
REGINA
I have never looked sogood. It’s probably because I am glowing inside. There is a very good reason for that too; Connor is going to propose. I just know it.
It’s a feeling, a warm premonition and a silent promise that passes between us when our eyes connect.
I’ve waited five long years for this ever since we collided on the subway and his limbs tangled in mine. It was love at first punch, and the black eye I received courtesy of his flying fist merely became an amusing anecdote we reminisced on every anniversary.
Some call Connor complacent with my emotions. I brush their comments aside because I have never met anybody who intrigues me as much as he does.
I’ve dropped enough hints over the years, stopping outside Tiffany with a wistful sigh as I pointed with excitement at the diamond rings. He never said anything, but there was always a gleam in his eye as if he was holding a secret, and that’s why I’m convinced tonight will be thatnight because we are heading to the Diamond gala in upstate New York. Connor invited me as his plus one, and he has never done that before.
To be honest, I wondered if he really worked for Viper Holdings at all. He said he did, but I have never seen any evidence of that. Until now. Until tonight, when he invited me to mix with the elite of New York at a star-studded gala run by his boss, the elusive viper himself, Nicholas Ravera.
I know little about him other that he’s a bastard to work for and rather belligerent. Connor holds him in awe, but I hold men like that in contempt.
I’m lucky because I work for myself. I am an entrepreneur who sells gift baskets online to my ever-increasing customer base.
To be perfectly honest, I really don’t have time for this because it’s Christmas and I’m snowed under with stuffing and ribbons. But it’s the Diamond gala. I would be a fool to turn this one down, and ever the professional, I am filming it for my vlog.
As I cast a critical gaze at my reflection, I suppress a smug smile. I look good in silver. Sequins and mesh just about cover the important parts of me, and I moisturized silver glitter on the exposed areas of skin because I am embracing the new trend of naked dressing. Only the merest wisps of fabric conceal my important areas, and I look and feel amazing.
My dark hair is piled high on top of my head, studded with diamonds, and my fake eyelashes brush against my cheeks that are dusted with silver glitter.
I am a walking bauble, a Christmas fairy on top of the tree, and I am lucky that my smokey gray eyes naturallycomplement my outfit because if they didn’t, I would have forked out for contacts. The effect is stunning, if I do say so myself, and now all I need is Prince Charming to come and offer me his hand—literally.
My phone buzzes.
Hey babe. Change of plan. I can’t make it.
Wait what?
I stare at the phone in confusion.
This can’t be right. He was supposed to be here ten minutes ago. What the…
I type back.
Are you running late? I could meet you there.
It takes a moment for him to reply, and my stomach is in knots as I anticipate a major let down of the cruelest kind.
No, I’ve caught COVID. I’m isolating myself. Sorry, at least you’ll be able to work some more. It’s a blessing in disguise.
My fingers shake as I type.
Since when have you been feeling unwell? It may just be a cold.
All week. I took a test.It’s confirmed.
I am trying so hard to be the caring girlfriend right now, but why wait until he’s late? It doesn’t make sense.
Guilt claws at my disappointment, reminding me he is ill, and I type,
Would you like me to come over?
NO!
