Page 152 of My Mafia King

He is not there either.

What the fuck?

I get spooked.

I spin around without looking and bump into him in the doorway.

Startled, I pull back, a scream falling from my lips. His eyes burn holes into mine.

“I didn’t see you,” I explain my reaction.

He walks in and moves past me.

“How much money do you need?” he tosses at me.

“Excuse me?” I throw behind him.

He takes his jacket off and drops it on a chair.

“How much money do you need?”

He touches the wall, and a panel slides to the side, revealing a safe–deposit box.

“Uh… About the same,” I say without thinking. “Five more grand. It would cover the first few months.”

Standing in front of the–deposit box, he punches in the passcode, blocking my view.

“What’s your plan?” he asks curtly.

“Pick her up, leave LA, and go someplace nice. A small town or something. Get lost and start from scratch. Get a job while she goes to school. Then hire a lawyer to help me become her legal guardian so she doesn’t have to deal with my father again. That’s pretty much it.”

He turns around, his eyes cold, his face unreadable. The cash seems to be more than I requested.

“You have one hundred thousand dollars. Here.”

My mouth drops.

“No way. Are you serious?”

My reaction is childish and somewhat comical. A smile even pushes to my lips, but he doesn’t even crack a grin.

“Lawyers are expensive. I wouldn’t tell them I had that kind of money if I were you. Lawyers and crooks are the same when it comes to picking your pockets.”

He hands me the money, and I stare at it, still not believing my eyes.

It’s so unexpected that my emotions overcome me.

Hours ago, it didn’t even cross my mind.

Hours ago, I thought he was gone.

Even minutes ago, I thought we’d have an argument.

I never thought he’d let me go.

Not even when I pleaded with him, I didn’t think that.

I’m still looking at the money when I speak.

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