Page 14 of My Mafia King

“Dressed like a whore…” he throws at me, not hiding his disgust with how I look.

I tilt my gaze down, checking the item that annoys him, and then I flick my hair over my shoulder––another trick I’ve seen women doing––and it’s all to buy some time and come up with a new line.

Strangely, it fleetingly works as he looks at me, baffled and mesmerized at the same time.

But the anger is dense in his eyes, and the only thing stopping him from wrapping his hand around my neck, dragging me downstairs, tossing me into his car, and taking me back to LA is that he doesn’t know how to go about it.

There’s an element of surprise in this story, something he hasn’t seen in me before, and right now, it makes him curious.

“I’m meeting my new boyfriend,” I deadpan, my hand back on my hip after tugging at my hair.

He finds me extremely entertaining, an incredulous smile sliding over his face, narrowing his eyes.

Both are bad news.

And they are bad as his presence is here.

“New boyfriend? What have you been smoking, woman?” he shoots at me in derision, pushing his eyes over my body and taking inventory of my mini dress, legs glistening from the lotion I have used, and sexy heels.

He’s only seen me in my waitress uniform, my sweatpants, or my shorts and a yellow washed-out T-shirt with a cheeky quote printed across.

My hair has never fallen down my back in dark crests of silky ink, and my eyes have never been set off by mascara–coated lashes.

My lips have never glistened dirty as they do no.

So, yeah… The man is surprised.

He’s also about to lose his temper.

What he had considered an afterthought is now at the front of his mind, wrecking havoc.

Like my father, Beau, aka Dick, has an impulse control problem, and even though he’s smiling, I can see the anger in his eyes.

He feels like I owe him a lot.

My body. My sanity. My V-card.

He’s waited for me to make up my mind while he spent time with other women.

He thought he was doing me a favor that once in a while, he stopped from fucking them and ‘groomed’ me, getting me for a life with him.

Let’s say…

I didn’t know any better.

But now I do.

Because it isn’t only about me. It’s about Tina too.

And let’s say my first plan—getting involved with him—didn’t quite work. And now, my second plan—getting a job in Las Vegas—is ruined because of him.

He folds his arms on top of his chest.

“What new boyfriend?” he asks again, a twisted grin creasing his lips.

Of course he’s not buying it.

He may be unsophisticated, but he’s not stupid.

---