Page 1 of My Mafia Queen

1

CARMINA

I sleep profoundlyfor at least an hour, if not more.

I usually can’t do it like that.

I need my pajamas, the covers pulled up to my chin, and the relaxed state induced by the idea that I’m in my bed.

Although sleeping in my room in his suite is not exactly what I’d call my bed.

Something else wouldn’t normally let me sleep.

The idea of something so significant, like going back home and saving Tina and myself from a life of misery.

But I do.

I do fall asleep.

And I’m so deep in that state that none of my anxious thoughts swirl in my brain. But that ends when something swiftly pulls me out of my sleep, and I flick my eyes open.

I’m still in his bed, on top of the covers, the back of my head pressed against the pillows, my body stiff and a bit cold.

My side is warm, though, and when I shift my gaze, I realize I’m not alone.

Clothed like me, with his arm folded under his head and his eyes closed, he seems asleep.

His chest slightly rocks with even, paced breaths. I move my eyes away from him and look around the room.

The space is dim, and the door to the balcony is open, the city lights glowing outside.

I spend a few more moments looking out the window and indulging in his scent––a hint of spicy cologne––before slowly rolling onto my side to climb out of the bed when his hand meets my thigh.

I fall back and look at him.

He hasn’t moved his other arm or opened his eyes.

He looks just as asleep as he seemed to be moments ago. Now I realize I was mistaken.

Maybe he wasn’t asleep at all.

Maybe he was thinking or relishing the fact that I was asleep next to him.

“Stay,” he rasps quietly.

My eyes move over his face.

What does he mean by that?

Does he want me to sleep next to him?

Or does he want me not to return home?

It can’t be that.

We have an understanding, and he’s given me money.

But he wants me with him here now.

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