Page 67 of Demanding Mob Boss

"Before what?" I demand in a quiet tone. I don't want her roommate to come stomping in here and interrupt us before I get things settled with Anna. "It was this fucking morning."

"Don't swear at me." She's not meeting my eyes, but looking at some spot over my shoulder. She does that with other people, not with me.

"You don't like me saying fuck?" I ask.

"Not when you're mad at me."

"But it's okay if I'm pissed at someone else?"

She shrugs.

"Don't shrug at me, Anna. Yes, or, no?"

"What does it matter? We won't be seeing each other."

"Not right now, no." Fuck. I wince internally. And then I think a whole litany of curse words, but not one of them comes out of my mouth. "Things are dangerous right now. You know what happened to Shea."

"They did that to her to get back at you for something?" Anna asks, her tone disbelieving. "But she's still a teenager. She doesn’t have anything to do with mob business. She told me."

My sister had been chattier than usual. She knows better than to discuss that kind of thing with friends. Damn it all to hell.

"They were sending me a message." After I sent their dealers back to them beaten and each missing a finger for their impudence in working my streets.

"But I'm not your family."

"You're my girl, Anna, but right now the fewer people that know that, the better."

"I'm your girl?" she asks, like she doesn't know.

"What the fu—dge do you think? You let other men touch your beautiful tits?"

She gasps, tugging the blanket closer. "No."

"Well, I don't stalk my employees. Just you."

Chapter 22

CIAN

"I wondered."

"Anna," I say impatiently.

"Don't use that tone with me. You could have called me and explained, or at least texted, but you sent Connor to tell me I wasn't working for you anymore and you didn't tell me why. I don't like feeling this way."

I hurt her. "I'm not a thoughtful man," I tell her.

"You can be, when you want to. You got new, safer doors for our apartment and Mrs. Hart's."

"I broke your friend's door when she wouldn't let me in to talk to her," I admit to Anna.

"Don't do that again. She's old. You can't scare her like that."

"I won't."

"I thought you got sick of me." Anna's voice is filled with uncertainty and pain.

"I want to hold you," I tell her.

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