Page 60 of My Mafia Queen

I’m not so sure about that.

He said it himself that I’d become a target if something happened to him.

He has a questioning look on his face while I stay quiet.

“Your sister will be fine,” he says reassuringly, and I wonder what he bases that on.

A moment passes before he brings his hand to my face, gently runs the back of his knuckles over my cheeks, and narrows his eyes at me, smiling.

“You’re so young,gattino.”

Kitten.

The regret in his voice is killing me.

“Please don’t say that,” I say, propping my arm on his shoulder while holding his gaze.

“It’s the truth.”

I don’t know what to say. I don’t want him to give up on me so quickly because of my age.

“How much older are you?” I ask.

He shifts, straightens his back, and brings his seat to the normal position, no longer looking at me.

I’m forced to lean back into my seat.

He turns on the engine, and I’m filled with dread.

He seems disappointed, and the more detached he appears, the tenser I get.

“About a decade older,” he says, smiling, and I no longer feel him close to me.

The car moves while he lights another cigarette.

He controls the steering wheel while sliding the cigarette between his lips, flicking his lighter open, and letting the flame engulf the tip.

Smoke curls away from his beautiful lips.

“You’re young,” I say, yearning for his attention.

He flicks his gaze to me, a smile glinting in his eyes.

“It’s not only about the years. I’ve lived a lot,” he says around his cigarette, winking at me while I observe him without drawing a breath.

He doesn’t have to say that twice. Everything about him speaks of that.

His confidence fueling his magnetism.

He is unapologetically handsome, but his self-assuredness makes him irresistible.

And now that he’s given me something to think about with his talk about the age gap and me being so young––he probably meant inexperienced and naive––he’s also managed to make me nervous.

I study him for a few more seconds while he roots his gaze on the road. He seems removed from here and me as he ponders something else.

“We all have to start somewhere,” I say, slumped in my seat, unable to hide my frustration.

The change in my mood makes him move his eyes to me.

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