Page 33 of Mafia Crown

I blink, my breath catching. “How?”

He leans in, his mouth so close to mine that I can taste the tension in the air. But this time, he doesn’t kiss me. This time, he pulls back, leaving me hanging, breathless and trembling.

“By surviving,” he says simply, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. “By making it through this without losing yourself.”

I want to argue, to tell him I’m already lost.

He lets go of my arm, stepping back and giving me space again. My skin feels cold without his touch, and I hate that too.

Charlie whines softly, as if sensing the storm inside me. I drop to my knees and run my fingers through his fur, grounding myself in the feel of his warmth.

Kieran watches me for a moment longer before turning toward the door. “Dinner’s in an hour,” he says over his shoulder, as if we didn’t just share a moment that cracked me wide open.

And then he’s gone, leaving me with my racing heart, my swirling thoughts, and the terrifying realization that, no matter how much I fight it, I don’t think I’ll ever be free.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

KIERAN

DINNER IS QUIET. Too quiet. The clink of silverware scraping porcelain is the only sound filling the dining room, and even that’s faint, sporadic. Hazel sits across from me, her fork dragging lazily across the plate, slicing through a piece of chicken she has no intention of eating.

She stabs it, lifts it halfway, then drops it back down as if the effort to bring it to her lips is too much. Her shoulders are tense, her gaze lowered to the table, and she’s been sitting like this for the past ten minutes. I lean back in my chair, folding my arms across my chest, eyes locked on her while she pretends I’m not here.

She’s quiet again.Not that Hazel’s a chatterbox, but this is different. Usually, she’ll glance at me when she thinks I’m not paying attention. She’ll bite her lip, huff under her breath, push buttons just to see which ones will make me snap. But right now, she’s in her own world, and that annoys me more than I expected.

She twirls a piece of food around the plate again, then sets the fork down, pushing her chair back without a word. The scrape of the legs against the floor grates on my nerves.

“You’re not eating?” I ask, keeping my voice even.

She stops halfway to the door, her fingers curling into fists at her sides before she lets out a soft breath. “I’m not hungry.”

I could call her out on the lie, but I don’t. I don’t even stop her from leaving the room. The door clicks softly behind her, and I’m left staring at the mess she made of her dinner. The food she barely touched, and the glass of water was still full.

I drum my fingers on the table, thinking about that kiss. The kiss that’s been on replay in my head since it happened. I told her I did it to calm her down, to stop her from spiraling, but that was only half the truth. I kissed her because I wanted to. Because for a moment, the tension between us felt unbearable, and taking what I wanted felt easier than ignoring it.

The problem is, it worked too well. Now she’s calm. Too calm. And I hate it.

The next day, Hazel spends her time with Charlie. I watch them as I pass the living room and make my way to one of the rooms that I haven’t started yet. I need to fill my time as I wait for Mary’s deposit which hasn’t happened yet. I turn on the saw and the noise is a comfort I didn’t think I needed. Haze’s silence is like a slow, constant itch I can’t scratch.

Her subdued silence stretches into the afternoon, bleeding into the evening. Even when she passes by the room I’m working in, her gaze doesn’t meet mine. She doesn’t say anything, doesn’t challenge me like she normally would. I should be relieved. This is what I wanted, right?

By the time the sun starts to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows through the windows, her quietness feels like a weight pressing down on my chest. I’m not used to this version of Hazel. The one who keeps everything bottled up, tucked away where I can’t reach. And the worst part is, I don’t know if I even want to reach her—or if I should leave her exactly like this.

I wipe the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand and toss the rag onto the workbench.

My fingers twitch, and I almost call out her name, but I stop myself. Instead, I grab a bottle of water and lean against the doorway, watching the last bit of sunlight disappear behind the mountains.

I kissed her because I wanted to.That fact isn’t going anywhere. What I’m trying to figure out is what the hell I’m supposed to do with it now.

I run a hand through my hair, the edges of my control sharp and jagged, before my other phone buzzes in my pocket. When I see the name on the screen, my heartbeat slows to a controlled rhythm. It’s Lee—one of Patrick’s men. A man I’ve known for years. Trustworthy enough, for now.

“Lee,” I say.

He doesn’t waste time. “You’re in trouble.”

The corners of my mouth twitch, but I keep my voice neutral. “Am I?”

“Patrick’s getting suspicious,” Lee continues. “There’s a ransom out for Hazel, and he’s starting to put pieces together. You know how he is. He smells something’s off.”

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