Page 103 of My Mafia King

Or there’s something I can do for him.

My mind is made up when I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and push to my feet.

Barefoot, I walk to the door. My steps are silent as I move toward the other end of the corridor.

As I walk through, the living room appears highlighted by a subtle bluish glow.

My heart races a little as I walk down the corridor leading to his room.

I’m also a little scared. What if he’s not alone? Why wouldn’t he be alone?

He’s not bringing women here.

Sure.

He’s brought me.

More like he hadn’t had a choice.

I push the door to his bedroom open.

The same bluish glow I spotted in the living room moves over the walls in his bedroom.

Sheer curtains stretch across the windows, and the view showcases pure wilderness, while all the human activity is down below.

I move my eyes to the bed.

He’s there and seems sound asleep, lying on his back with his arm folded under his head.

A white sheet covers his body up to his abs.

His muscular frame is chiseled to perfection, and it dawns on me how misleading those expensive suits are, concealing that.

Tattoos crawl up his arms.

He has the face of a warrior god.

Beauty and determination are locked in the riveting tale of his face.

I move closer without making the slightest noise, mesmerized when he jerks upright like he hasn’t even been asleep and automatically grabs his gun from the nightstand.

“Stand back,” he barks, pulling upright before realizing that it’s me.

I’m staring at the barrel of a gun, my hands up, my robe opening.

I have tiny pajama shorts and a cropped tank underneath, my legs bare, my breasts moving frantically as I try to convince him as quickly as I can that it’s me and I have no intention to harm him.

“I’m sorry. It’s me. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Scared him?

He doesn’t seem scared in the slightest while I might need to use the bathroom before I soil myself.

Shaking, I look at him while his gaze slides over my exposed front.

“I couldn’t sleep and heard you when you came in,” I mumble. “And then I heard some music. It’s nice music, by the way. And I wanted to see if you were okay. Please don’t shoot me.”

My words make no sense.

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