Page 12 of My Mafia Queen

I stop, my jaw locked.

There’s no point in giving grief to my bodyguards.

She was free to leave. I didn’t force her to stay.

We both decided it was better if she did that.

“What, Boss?”

“Nothing.”

A few moments pass as thoughts spin in my head.

“Carmina left,” I say, pushing the door to her walk-in closet open.

She took her clothes–the ones she had brought with her in her duffel bag–and left whatever fancy wardrobe she’d gotten from me.

Her shoes, dresses, and even her swimsuit are all here.

She took her money, and that was that.

“What?” he mumbles.

“It’s okay,” I say in a calmer voice. “She’s on her way to LA. Have someone watch her house. And keep an eye on her,” I say. “No one puts a finger on her, or I’ll burn that city down.”

“Okay, Boss.”

I end the call, slide my phone into my pocket, and stare at her clothes.

Is she coming back?

Who the fuck knows?

Aside from her not being here, her room looks like she’s still living with me,

Pain settles in my chest, and that tells all I need to know.

We may try to do the right thing, but in the end, we do what needs to be done and let life take care of the rest.

* * *

CARMINA

The lightsof LA flicker in the distance, and the wind blows in my hair as a sweet longing grows in my chest.

How twisted this is.

How unreal.

I left a piece of me back in his suite.

And I thought this would be easier?

I thought leaving without him would spare me the pain?

Is this what it’s going to be from this point on?

Pain and guilt?

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