Page 51 of Mafia King's Forbidden Obsession

He clears his throat. “Of course not, but the ports get tighter. More inspections. More eyes. The feds are getting stricter.”

I finally turn to face him, my eyes narrowing. The only thing I can deduce from this development is that Miller is a lazy ass cunt. So what if there’s a new task force? His job is to prevent this from happening.

“Contact Miller,” I say, my voice low. “We can’t afford any more setbacks.”

“Sì, Don,” he says, but doesn’t leave.

I raise a questioning brow at him. “What is it?”

He hesitates for a few seconds before speaking. “Well, Raven is asking that you dine with her…” he pauses again, most likely studying my blank face. “In the dining room.”

“Why?” I tilt my head in question.

Elio shrugs.

I mostly have my meals in my office. I don't have the time to sit in the dining room and enjoy a meal.

“Miller. Now,” I order Elio.

He gives a curt nod and walks off briskly as though the tiled floor is covered with burning coals. I turn to the window again but feel a headache coming on. Letting out a sigh, I lift my hand to massage my temples as I turn to the window.

I should have known it would lead to this. Women. Show them the littlest hint of care, and they’ll become clingy. Although I don't know if it's the clinginess that bothers me…

I knew it'd happen. The one week we’d spent laying in the same bed was sure to warrant such a response, and despite knowing this, I couldn't help but still do it. At first, my actions had seemed like a natural response but even I knew it was beyond that.

For fuck’s sake, I could choose to sleep elsewhere in the mansion. But I chose to return to her… every night. It’s like there’s no restraint when it comes to her, and even now, my feet are taking me to oblige her request. But this is only to make her feel safe. Nothing more.

When I reach the large brown door, I immediately push it open and enter.

Raven is seated at the far end of the table. Her hair is in a loose bun with a few strands framing the side of her face. Both of her hands are placed on either side of the steaming plate of pasta before her, and her eyes are fixed on them.

I arch a brow at her untouched food. She really is waiting to have dinnerwith me.

Tucking my hands into the pockets of my pants, I stride towards the table and assume my seat on the chair two spaces away from her.

She finally acknowledges my presence as she raises her eyes with a small smile. I’m a bit taken aback by her smile, perhaps because I’ve never seen her smile like this before… at least not at me. There’s a softness to it, something I can’t quite place.

But I feel it, and her next words confirm it.

“How are you?”

The same tenderness in her smile swims in her eyes. I’m too stunned to speak. I haven’t been asked that in years… not in this way. Whenever Elio asks me, it’s in relation to an event or revolves around the dealingsof business. Silvia was the only one who asked me about anything outside of my don title.

That’s why I don’t know how to respond and, thankfully, the door opens. A chef walks in. She’s holding a white ceramic-covered bowl and walking towards me.

“Good evening, sir.” She bows curtly before dropping the bowl on the table. Then opens the cover to reveal the same pasta dish.

I don’t acknowledge her greeting and watch her serve the contents of the bowl onto an empty plate before me. She bows when she’s done and hurries out.

Once we’re alone, I bring my gaze back to Raven. “How are you feeling?” The question leaves my lips too casually and not as concerned as I’d wanted.

“I’m fine,” she replies, almost immediately, lowering her gaze to grab a fork. I don’t miss how her smile slowly fades. I’m also aware that I didn’t answer her question, and I don’t intend to. Answering would be crossing a line I didn’t want to. She had to know the shenanigans of the past few days were no more than a normal humane response.

I pick up my fork and roll the pasta. The clank sound of our cutleries against the plates resonates lowly in the room, and before I bring the food to my mouth, her voice reaches me again.

“I still feel scared,” she says, just as she swallows. “Paranoid even that someone will appear out of nowhere and…” she trails off.

My grip around the fork tightens as her words tug at something in my chest.No one will. I’ll make sure of that.“I’ll double the guards at the door.”

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