Page 6 of Mafia Boss

When he stopped pulling me, I opened one eye and took a deep breath. There was a car—our car—running in the alleyway, with Ben on the driver’s side.

Cristian stood next to him, staring at me with those devilish brown eyes. “Principessa, come.”

The guard leaned in close. “This won’t be the last time we see you.”

I yanked myself away from him and smoothed out my shirt, trying to act natural while I felt like the pee was already running down the insides of my thighs. I walked over to the car, Cristian following.

He put his hand on the passenger door handle and smiled. “I will see yousoon, Roxie.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I waited for him to open my door, and then I slid into the seat and stared through the windshield. “Drive, Ben,” I said through clenched teeth when Cristian smacked the back of the car, as if to send us off. “We have a lot of shit to talk about.”

As soon as we were off onto the road and merged onto the highway—out of sight of Cristian and his devilish smirk—I smacked Ben on the chest. “What the fuck was that? What kind of trouble are you in?”

“Roxie, calm down,” Ben said, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. “You don’t have to worry about anything, baby. I have this handled. Nothing is going to happen.”

I stared at him with wide eyes and pursed my lips, seeing right through his lies. I hated the way he lied to me—the way hekeptlying to me. It was the one thing I’d told him he could never do in our relationship, yet here I was, letting him lie through his teeth to me.

“Don’t shut me out. What did you do?”

Ben slammed his hand against the steering wheel. “Roxie, drop it.”

I shifted in my seat. “No, I’m not going to let this go like it’s nothing. That man had a gun.A fucking gun.And everyone else in that bar, all those guards around him, had guns too.” I shook my head. “I don’t know why you can’t just come out and say it. At least tell me who they were.”

Ben blew an angry breath through his nose and took the exit for our apartment. I stared through the windshield and crossed my arms over my chest, twirling my ring around my finger with my thumb. What good was it to marry someone who couldn’t tell me when he was in trouble?

We drove into the garage and parked next to a homeless guy sleeping against our neighbor’s truck. I cursed myself for ever deciding to move into this apartment building out of every place we could’ve gone. But at the time, it had been the only place that could fit our budget, especially with all our debt.

“Fine,” Ben said after an eternity, voice a breathy whisper. He grabbed my hands. “Those guys are from the Mafia. The Ricci fam—”

The Mafia …

I tore my hands away from his and took a second to breathe.

Cristian was from the Mafia, maybe even the boss himself. He had sure walked and talked like he owned everyone in the club, had the money to buy off anyone to keep them quiet, had guards around him, just waiting to tear off someone’s head.

And Ben fucking Goodman owed them something.

“Ben’s wrongdoings are yours.”

“What did you do?” I asked, unable to believe that Ben—my Ben—had done something so horrendous to get stuck with them breathing down his neck.

What could he have possibly done to get mixed up with men like that?

“Nothing you need to worry about, baby. Just …” He brushed his fingers against my cheek, and I moved away.

Ben had lied to me. Benhadbeen lying to me for weeks. Weeks! He had to be deep, or he must owe them something fucking huge.

I shook my head. They were going to kill us, fucking kill us.

Ben tried to envelop me in a hug, drawing me closer to him. “I have this all figured out. Everything is going to be okay. You don’t have to worry at all.”

“And how do you have it figured out? What are you going to do?” I asked, not believing a word he said.

As of today, he had been lying to me, staying out late, and was messed up with the Ricci family, New York’s cruelest Mafia.

Though Mafia dealings weren’t as prevalent nowadays—especially publicly—they still owned everyone and everything. And the Ricci family was the worst. Growing up, I had heard stories from my grandmother about the horrendous things they had done to my grandfather, all the lies he had spilled to her, all the stories, all the pain.

Ben looked at the console between us. “Just …” He took a deep breath. “I have it under control. Please, believe me.”

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