CHAPTER 3 — THE MAFIA BOSS
1186 Words
"You can't just stay here."
Arabella's voice was sharp, defensive. She was backed against the kitchen counter, the knife still clutched in her hand like she actually thought she could use it against me. Her eyes were wide, her chest rising and falling too fast.
"Watch me."
"Zeke—"
"I'm not leaving you alone." I stepped closer, hands raised. "Not after this."
"After what? You're showing up at my door like some kind of—"
"Like some kind of what?"
"I don't know. Stalker? Criminal?" She laughed bitterly. "Oh wait, you're both."
"Arabella—"
"Get out."
"No."
"You can't just—"
"I can't just what?" I moved closer, close enough to see the fear in her eyes. "I can't protect you? I can't keep you alive?"
"I didn't ask for your protection."
"You didn't have to."
She stared at me, her jaw tight. "You think you can just walk into my life and take over? You think I'm some kind of—"
"Some kind of what?"
"Damsel in distress?"
"I think you're the most stubborn woman I've ever met."
"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"
"Take it however you want."
She lowered the knife, just slightly. "Why are you really here, Zeke?"
"Because they'll come for you."
"Who?"
"The people who took those photographs." I pulled out my phone, showing her the image again. "They know you were with me. They know you spent the night in my penthouse."
"So?"
"So that makes you a target."
"I'm nobody."
"You're not, nobody." I stepped closer, close enough to see the flecks of gold in her eyes. "Not anymore."
---
The room was silent for a long moment. She stared at me, searching my face for something. I don't know what she was looking for. Truth? Lies? A reason to trust me?
Then she said, "The police—"
"The police can't help you."
"They're the police."
"They're on my payroll."
She blinked. "What?"
"Half the city is on my payroll," I said flatly, like it was nothing. Like I wasn't admitting to being the most corrupt man in the city. "The police. The judges. The politicians. They all answer to me."
"That's not—"
"It's the truth."
"Zeke—"
"I'm not going to apologize for it." I met her eyes. "I built this empire with blood and betrayal. I've killed people. I've destroyed families. I've done things that would make you sick."
"Then why are you telling me this?"
"Because you asked."
"Zeke—"
"I'm not going to lie to you, Arabella. Not about this. Not about who I am." I paused. "You deserve to know what you're getting into."
She was quiet for a long moment. Then she said, "I'm not getting into anything."
"Too late."
"What do you mean, too late?"
I pulled out my phone, showing her the photograph again. "Someone sent this to me. Taken from inside your apartment. They're telling me they can get to you anytime they want."
"That's not—"
"It's a threat." I met her eyes. "They're threatening you to get to me."
"Why would anyone want to hurt me?"
"Because you're the only person who's ever mattered to me."
---
She stared at me, her face pale.
"That's not true," she whispered.
"It is."
"We just met."
"I know."
"You don't even know me."
"I know enough."
"Zeke—"
"You're brave," I said. "You're stubborn. You don't back down. You don't take anyone's bullshit." I smiled, just slightly. "You're also beautiful. And you're the only woman who's ever looked at me like I'm not a monster."
"Maybe you are a monster."
"Maybe." I stepped closer. "But I'm the monster who's going to keep you alive."
She laughed, but there was no humor in it. "You're insane."
"Probably."
"You're also dangerous."
"Yes."
"And you're asking me to trust you?"
"Yes."
She stared at me, her eyes searching for mine. Then she said, "What happens if I say no?"
I was quiet for a moment. Then I said, "Then I'll find another way to protect you. Even if you hate me for it."
"Why would you do that?"
"Because I can't let you die," I said quietly, like it was a confession. "Not when I can stop it."
---
Arabella
I stared at him, my heart pounding.
He was telling me the truth. I could see it in his eyes, in the way his jaw tightened, in the way his hands were clenched at his sides. He was terrified. Not of his enemies. Of losing me.
Why? We barely knew each other. We'd spent one night together. One night of passion and secrets and vulnerability. It shouldn't have meant anything.
But it did.
"I'll stay," I heard myself say. "For now."
His eyes flickered with something—relief? Hope? "Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet," I crossed my arms. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this for me."
"I know."
"I'm not going to be some damsel in distress."
"I never thought you would be."
"I'm not going to hide while you fight my battles."
"I wouldn't expect you to."
"Good." I stepped closer, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body. "Because if anyone tries to hurt me, I'll fight back. I'll kill them if I have to."
He smiled—a real smile, quick and sharp. "I know you will."
"Then why do you look so relieved?"
"Because I don't have to worry about you."
"Zeke—"
"I'm not saying you're weak." He reached for me, his hand cupping my face. "I'm saying you're strong. Stronger than you know."
"Zeke—"
"I'm saying I've been alone my whole life." His voice dropped, rough and raw. "And for the first time, I don't feel alone."
---
I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to do. So I kissed him.
It wasn't like before. Before it was passion, heat, desperation. This was something else. Slower. Deeper. Like he was trying to tell me something he couldn't put into words.
When we finally pulled apart, he pressed his forehead against mine.
"Stay," he whispered.
"I'm staying."
"Promise."
"I promise."
He kissed me again, soft and sweet.
And for the first time in years, I felt like I was home.
---
Zeke
She fell asleep in my arms an hour later.
I watched her, my heart pounding. She was beautiful. Fierce. Stubborn. Everything I'd never known I wanted.
My phone buzzed on the table. I grabbed it, careful not to wake her.
It was Enzo.
"Boss." His voice was tight. "We found something."
"What?"
"The woman in the photograph. Arabella." He paused. "She's not who she says she is."
My blood ran cold. "What do you mean?"
"Her real name isn't Arabella Rose. It's Arabella Volkov."
The name hit me like a physical blow.
"Volkov," I repeated. "The Volkov family?"
"Yes, boss. She's the daughter of the man who killed your father."
I stared at Arabella's sleeping face, the world spinning.
She was my enemy.
And I was in love with her.
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