Page 126 of My Mafia King

“Carmina Leto?” I murmur.

“Yes.”

I glance at him over my shoulder.

“What exactly do you have in mind, Gianni? Do you know how old she is?” I say.

“Yes, I do.”

I break my eyes away from his and look out the window again.

“She’s barely eighteen and ran away from home. I already had to buy her back from Boris and remove her from her ex’s hands. And you’re telling me not to think too much about it? What holds me back in your opinion, Gianni?”

My voice is silent and paced.

“Is there anything to hold me back?” I ask again as he stops next to me and tips his gaze down.

I’m jealous even of him seeing her in a bathing suit. He checks her out briefly before shifting his eyes to me.

“I know she has risk written all over her face. But whether you’re trying to protect her or not, consider her too young or not, risk having your heart broken or not, you will regret it anyway. No matter how it ends, pain is part of this story. You’ll have regrets and pay a price one way or another. There is no way around it. She’s caught your eye. There isn’t much to do to change the outcome.”

I say nothing.

“Maybe you think you’re protecting her that way. Standing back and doing nothing,” he says. “I saw how she looked at you last night and how you studied her every time she looked away. She’s not broken in. I can tell that, and I’m sure you know that, too. If she wants you, I’d say go for it. Don’t waste your time overthinking everything. Go down there and talk to her. It hurts no one.”

He pats me on my back and tears away from me.

Soon after, the door closes behind me while I watch the woman in the lounge chair soaking up the sun.

23

CARMINA

It’slike someone’s watching me. Am I dreaming?

I jolt out of my sleep, nervous that someone is staring at me.

Rubbing my hand over my face, I prop myself on my elbow and look around. There’s no one but me.

It’s hot, and my cheeks burn when I reach for the bottle of water and check the time on my phone.

I push upright and call Jen.

Good thing I memorized her number, or I’d be screwed.

It rings and rings, but she doesn’t answer, and now I’m worried that something bad must’ve happened.

“Come on, Jen. Come on…”

My call goes unanswered, but I insist.

I’m just about to give up when someone answers the call.

The person doesn’t talk, and I tense up.

“It’s me,” I say.

And then her voice explodes in my ear.

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