Page 69 of Mafia King's Forbidden Obsession

I nod, barely paying attention, as he packs up his tools and leaves with Elio following behind him. The door closes, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I stare out the window, bringing a hand to lightly brush the underside of my chin as thoughts of her overwhelm any other.

Raven. She’s been keeping to herself since taking out the cannula from my wrist. She’s been withdrawn. I imagine her sitting alone in that room, and suddenly, it hits me—she must be feeling isolated, cut off from the world. Perhaps the freedom I gave her had the opposite effect? It’s supposed to make her happy…to give her a sense of freedom.

I furrow my brows at the thought, fixing my eyes on nothing in particular. Perhaps she’s just getting used to it? Maybe if I let her go again, she’ll feel less depressed? Or what if I try something else? But what?

Then, it clicks —Harper— Raven’s best friend. I remember seeing all those messages on her phone, frantic texts asking where she was. Raven never got a chance to respond and she must miss her best friend.

I push myself up from the chair and move towards the wall painting by the shelf. I take the painting off the wall and stare at the safe tucked behind. My fingers move swiftly over thecombination lock, the numbers falling into place like muscle memory. Then the door clicks open, and I pull out her phone.

I press the power button, and the screen comes on. The phone takes a while to boot before displaying the missed calls and unattended text messages. If there’s anything I know about women, it’s that their best friends can make them happy.

My steps are quick when I make my way back to the chair. I assume my prior position on my chair and open the bottom drawer of the desk, where I find a burner phone. Clearing my throat, I punch Harper’s number into the burner phone, and a slight, odd sense of satisfaction fills me.

I’m nodding at both phones in my hand when Elio steps back in.

“Boss, I wanted to update you about the merchandise…” he stops once his eyes land on both devices in my hand. “Isn’t that…Raven’s phone?”

I glance at the mobile phone, then back at him. “It is.”

He raises a brow. “You want to….you want her to call someone?”

“On the burner phone,” I reply plainly. The phone is masked and completely secure. It would be difficult for even 911 to trace.

Elio studies me in silence for a moment, his gaze flicking between the phone and me. Then he cocks his head, slitting his eyes at me. “You like her, don’t you?” He folds his arm across his chest, waiting for an answer.

I meet his gaze but say nothing. That can’t be true. But then, I can’t deny it either.

He leans back slightly, crossing his arms. “You know that’s dangerous, right? Getting attached. Emotions like that... they cloud judgment… lead to mistakes.”

“Raven is innocent, and you know what we say about innocents,” I say, despite knowing that making her happy doesn’t have anything to do with our mantra for innocents. But Elio needs to know that. “Plus, I know better than anyone else that such emotions are dangerous in our world.”

My chest tightens when an image of Vittoria pops up in my head.

Elio’s expression is blank, but he doesn’t press the matter any further. Instead, he unfolds his arms and says, “The heroine merchandise for the Vincezi family is set. Came to receive the go-ahead for transportation.”

I nod, leaning back in my chair. “Good. Then proceed,” I say, with a wave of the hand.

With a sidelong glance, he turns to leave the office, still clearly skeptical of my earlier denial.

Once he’s gone, I push the thought out of my head and make my way to the bedroom. When I reach the door, I push it open without knocking. Raven is sitting on the bed, her knees tucked to her chest. Her head turns to me as I step inside.

“Are you okay?” I question, lifting a brow at the odd way she’s sitting.

“I’m fine. How are you feeling?” she asks.

I sense something else in her voice, but I can’t decipher it, so I give it a rest. I don’t want to probe, not when I can sense that her demeanor probably stems from her short taste of freedom.

As I walk over to her, I hold up the burner phone. “Here,” I say, my tone warm. “You’ve helped me out in more ways than one, and I want you to know I appreciate it. You can contact your best friend.”

She looks at me, suspicious at first, like this is some kind of trick. I can see the hesitation in her eyes– the way she’s trying to play it cool. But when I gently place the phone on the bed beside her, her expression changes. A spark of something —relief, maybe? Joy?— flickers across her face.

Suddenly, she jumps off the bed and throws her arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug.

It catches me off guard, but I brace myself and revel in the feeling of her soft body against mine. Her embrace is taut, almost desperate, and I wrap my arms around her, pulling her even closer.

“I know this is only a small gesture, but I hope it shows you I do trust you,” I say, meaning every word.

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