Page 63 of Mafia Captor

“By now?” He looks up at the sky, calculating. “It’s up to about a hundred k.”

That amount is nothing to me but trying to pay it back must feel like climbing Everest to him on a mechanic’s salary. I can just give the kid the money, but as I’ve gotten to know him, I know he’s going to feel like shit about himself till he pays me back. This kid’s going to be in debt forever if he keeps working at the shop.

He could work for me, but Ashe would kill me.

I’m torn.

“You did the right thing telling me.” I slap him on the back. “I’ll take care of it.”

“I can’t let you do it,” he says. “It’s my debt.”

“You don’t have a choice, man.”

He holds my eye. “I will pay you back.”

“I know you will,” I say.

“I never meant for this to come back on you or A. I was young—I had no idea what kind of guys I was dealing with.”

“They took advantage.” Sharks, circling the waters, looking for kids with no support systems in place, ones in trouble. “I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry about it.”

He holds out his hand. “I can’t thank you enough.”

I shake it. “It’s been weighing you down a long time. I’m happy to help.”

I watch him walk away, his shoulders noticeably lighter. It’s gonna kill me to have him go back to his old job. I know he belongs here. He wants to be here, working for the Bachman family.

Ashe?

I believe the last thing she said on the subject was, “Over my dead body. You don’t fudge around with the big sis.”

I have to sway her. Keeping Beckett is what’s best for everyone. I need to gain control of the situation. A perfect idea comes to me.

I feel like doing a bit of baking. I go down to my kitchen, clearing my staff out so I can whisk in peace. They scatter as I tie my apron around my waist.

Ashe’s going to lose her shit when she finds out what I have in store for her.

ChapterTwenty

Ashely

I slipmy little blue Honda into the bay where we keep the cars. I cut the engine, giving the dash a pat. “Thanks, babe. I appreciate the ride.” I don’t want her to feel unwanted when the Audi arrives.

It’s nice to have a little freedom, to drive my own car, even though I’m sure Boston had me tailed by security the whole time. I met his mom in the city for wedding invite shopping. Today, we found a little shop near the Village. Hand-painted keepsake boxes with a tiny note inside, the details for the celebration written in calligraphy, in black ink. The owner almost burst from joy when we ordered three hundred.

Ma and I, we’re getting pretty tight. It’s the two of us women, and Sasha, the only girls up in a family of men. I love Ma to death, and her input on the reception has been invaluable. I can tell it brings her joy to plan with me. She keeps saying I’m the daughter she never had. I get choked up when she says that. She knows my mom can’t join us.

I thought about sending my mom an invitation, just to let her know her only daughter is getting married, but then I remember what the staff of her home said, about how she felt better off without us, and I dropped the thought like a hot pan I’d grabbed from the oven.

There’s more planning to do, but all I want is to cozy up with a good book. I get snuggled down in one of the oversized gray chairs in the library, a cup of cocoa by my side. Alice begins to spiral down the rabbit hole just as I hear my name being called.

“Mrs. Bachman?”

I lift my eyes from the page of my book to find a timid staff member the size of a thimble, her hair plaited in two long, black braids. There’s a touch of fear shining in her green eyes. Talia. Our youngest staff member who helps care for the dogs, as well as being my cat’s caretaker.

They treat me like a queen at court. I want the staff to respect me, but also know I care for them. I want to be a kind queen.

“Hi, sweetheart,” I say, trying to ease her nerves. “Thank you so much for the daily updates on G. Are you guys getting on okay?”

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