Page 91 of My Mafia Queen

Just as he turns his back to Vadim, the man seems to fall to the floor. And then, just as everybody gets distracted in the room, the Russian reaches under the table.

“Damaso!” I shout, my eyes wide with terror as I watch the man remove something from under the table, and it could only be a gun.

It takes half a second as Damaso spins around and puts a bullet in Vadim’s head. The man drops dead, his weapon hitting the floor with a thud before silence falls over us.

No one moves in the room, and I can’t believe my eyes.

Shaking inside, I look at the man on the floor, a puddle of blood forming under him while everybody’s waiting.

It’s strange, but relief rolls over Damaso’s face as if he knew this would happen.

He moves his focus to Vadim’s men.

“Clean up the place unless you want to end up dead like him. Or worse, in jail.

The Russians couldn’t be more unimpressed that their boss just died.

They holster their guns and drag his body outside while Damaso washes his hands in a sink behind the bar, pats them dry with a paper towel, runs a hand through his hair, and flicks his head toward the door, signaling me to follow him.

18

CARMINA

Back at theLake Tahoe Resort

What a difference a coupleof hours make.

The windows are open, and the breeze lifts off the stretch of water before entering our bedroom.

Food sits on the table, and bulky white candles are lit, pushing an earthy incense through the air and erasing the memory of this evening.

It feels as if nothing happened.

Not the trip to Reno.

Not the bloody outcome.

Nothing.

He walks out of the bathroom, wearing a towel around his waist, his muscles shifting with every step.

Wearing only a short bathrobe and having my legs folded under me, I snack on strawberries and chocolate.

He goes to the small bar tucked in the wall and pours himself a drink.

He shoots a side-eyed glance at me.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah… Yes, I am.”

I’ve been pondering for the past few minutes while he was showering.

This whole thing wouldn’t have happened had I not been with him. And now I fear the consequences of his actions, not to mention that he might feel differently about me.

My eyes stall on his muscular back.

“What about you?” I ask.

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