Taking Care Of The Mobster

“Thank you,” I say, glancing shyly up at her. “I’m glad you approve.”

Sarah chuckles and returns to chopping carrots, her hands moving at an almost impossible pace. “Apart from the fact that my opinion wouldn’t affect Carlos’s actions by an inch, what’s there not to approve? You both make a cute couple.”

I smile softly and quietly go back to peeling the potatoes for dinner. It’s annoying how I keep finding reasons to sabotage this thing with Carlos. I keep hearing the little snide voice in my head, constantly reminding me of how undeserving I am of his affection.

Carlos whispers in my ear how special I am to him, after a passionate session of lovemaking. But that mocking voice comes back again, So you really believe him? Why hasn’t he told you that he loves you, then? That’s because he doesn’t. This is all you’ll ever be good for, a roll in the sheets, just like every other woman before you.

My heart squeezes painfully, and I resist the urge to physically grasp at my chest. What if this is a temporary thing for Carlos. What if he wakes up one day and realizes that I’m not good enough. What if my time in his life is just as long as my contract lasts? What if I tell him that I’ve fallen in love with him, and he shuts me out?

Even though I’ve told myself to rise above all these insecurities and see the sincerity in Carlos’s eyes, I still can’t do away with this restlessness in my heart. I feel like someday, all I’ll have are memories and a broken heart. So I shut out the voice of doubt in my head and snuggle further into the warmth of Carlos’s body. Whatever happens to us in the end, I’m going to cherish my memories with Carlos for life. But, for now, I am going to enjoy every moment with him.

For now, the violent thudding of his heart, so like mine, is enough assurance that what we feel is mutual. For now, at least.

“You’re quiet,” Carlos says, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “Is anything the matter?”

“Not at all,” I reply, glancing up at him with a small smile. “I guess I’m tired. That’s all.”

Carlos chuckles softly. “You did ride me pretty hard tonight, baby. I thought I was going to die from too much pleasure.”

“Stop!” I say with an embarrassed laugh, hitting his shoulder with my fist. Carlos laughs and catches my hand in his. He brings my hand to his lips and gently kisses my clenched fist. I unclench my hand and cup his face with my palm.

“You make me happy, Carlos,” I say softly. I look deep into his eyes, hoping he understands that my words are a substitute for my love for him. “Thank you.”

Carlos tightens his arms around me, pressing me even closer. He presses his lips to my forehead and smiles into my eyes. “You make me happy too, Abby.”

Is it me, or do his words sound automated? It’s only a natural response, but I can’t help the feeling of disappointment that immediately lodges in my chest.

I don’t know what I expected. I don’t even know why I feel so disappointed. I lower my gaze to hide my inward clash of emotions. Maybe it’s just me...maybe I’m reading too much into things. Or maybe my expectations are too high.

Maybe I fell too fast...

“That reminds me,” Carlos says, his deep voice breaking into my spiraling train of thoughts. “My company is hosting a dinner party in my honor. I’d like you to go with me to the dinner as my date. Please?”

I crane my neck to look into his eyes, my brows pulled together in a slight frown. “Are you sure about that? Reporters will be there. The whole world will be watching.”

“Even better,” Carlos says. “I want the whole world to know that you’re my woman. And that I’m your man.”

My heart skips a beat, and then more. And just like that, my doubts vanish.

I don’t know for how long. But for now, I’ll make do with what I have. I’ll love him blindly and wait for him to feel the same.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Carlos

I look up slowly as Cross barges rudely into my office, letting the door slam closed behind him. I was informed of his presence and disposition beforehand. He caused quite a ruckus at the front desk.

I’m not perturbed by the livid anger with which he slams his fists on my desk. I know the cause of his anger.

I’m actually the cause.

“What the fuck did you do?” Cross asks in a loud, angry voice. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I thought you had my back. Damn it.”

“You flaunted my orders, Cross,” I reply calmly. “Despite my warnings, you still went ahead and supplied your shit to Don Pablo. I own that production.”