Page 70 of My Mafia Queen

“I do,” he admits, continuing to clean his skin with soap and warm water. “I’ve been obsessed with them since I was a kid.”

I lean forward, place my elbows on my knees, and prop my face on my hands.

“What’s so special about Juno?” I ask.

He cracks a smile.

“I liked her the most.”

I wait.

He lets the water run over him, enjoying the warm sensation and my eyes on him.

“She was regarded as the protectress of communities in ancient Italy. And she’s been associated with youthfulness and vigor.”

“Vitality and force,” I say, and he nods in agreement.

“She also protects love and marriage,” he says.

“Love and marriage?”

“Yes,” he says, turning the water off and grabbing a couple of towels from a shelf.

He pats himself dry with one, walks out of the shower booth, disposes of it, and then wraps the second one around his waist.

His hair is damp.

He winks at me, or mostly at my stunned expression, before moving his eyes to the mirror and checking his cheeks.

The slightest stubble mars his jawline.

He finds it troublesome, it seems, so he grabs an electric razor from a drawer and starts shaving.

I look at him in awe.

I’ve never seen a man shave and never shared the bathroom with one, either. Well, until him, I hadn’t. It’s an interesting experience. Or maybe he makes it interesting.

I didn’t know what I had missed.

“Why love and marriage?” I murmur, swept into a trance.

He gives me a side-eyed glance.

“I don’t control the Roman mythology.”

“No, no… That’s not what I meant.”

He no longer looks at me, but he studies me in the mirror, and I quickly learn that as I meet his eyes there.

“I didn’t pick her because of that,” he says.

“You wanted her god-like protection for other things,” I suggest.

“I liked the idea. Yes. I think it’s one of the most important things in life,” he says, moving his eyes away from mine and staring blankly at his face in the mirror. “It’s a prerequisite. Without vigor, you don’t get that far. It’s like anything else in nature, whether it’s a flower, a bird, or a bug. Vigor and persistence win the day. Like you,” he says, smiling.

“I’m persistent. I’m not sure about everything else.”

He stops the machine and sets it down before checking his jawline in the mirror.

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