Page 54 of Mafia Crown

It’s the kind of place where no one asks questions. A neutral ground. Anonymous. The kind of place you check into when you want to disappear.

Kieran moves through the check-in process with practiced ease. The receptionist barely glances up from her ancient monitor, her heavy-lidded eyes bored, uninterested. She wears a uniform that might have once been crisp but now looks as lifeless as she does. Without a word, she slides a key card across the counter, her chipped nails tapping once against the cheap laminate. No conversation. No hesitation.

Kieran palms the key, nods, and leads the way to our room. Charlie follows, silent as a shadow. I’m praying they don’t notice him, but honestly, I don’t think they would care here. This hotel once had a great reputation—back when it was the kind of place businessmen stayed, back when the bar served top-shelf liquor and the carpets weren’t sticky underfoot. But those days are gone. Since it changed hands, it’s dropped in star rating and dignity. The chandeliers in the lobby are covered in dust, the bulbs flickering like they’re considering giving up entirely. The once-grand mahogany check-in desk is now chipped, the varnish worn away from years of indifferent service.

We step into the elevator, and I swear the entire thing shudders under its own weight. The button for the second floor is cracked, the numbers barely visible beneath smudges of fingerprints and grime. As the doors slide shut, I catch a glimpse of a security camera in the corner—unplugged, its red light dead. A useless relic.

The elevator bings, and the doors wheeze open, revealing a narrow hallway. The walls are lined with faded green wallpaper curling at the edges, and the carpet has dark stains I don’t want to think about. A flickering overhead light casts a sickly glow over everything. The smell of urine lingers in the air, sharp and acrid, mixed with something else—something metallic and sour, like rotting food or maybe something worse.

I duck my head and follow Kieran to our room, my heartbeat hammering louder than our footsteps against the worn carpet.

The second the door clicks shut behind us, something inside me snaps.

I whirl on Kieran, my voice sharp. “I don’t want to be at that meeting tomorrow.”

Kieran exhales through his nose, already bracing himself for the argument. “Hazel—”

“No.” I step closer, my hands curling into fists. “He’ll kill me.”

The words hang between us, stark and absolute.

Kieran says nothing. His jaw tenses, but he doesn’t argue. Because he knows.

“Patrick will kill me, Kieran. And you know it.” My voice cracks, but I force myself to hold his gaze. “You think you can just walk me into that meeting and everything will be fine? That he’ll just…forgive me? Forgive you?”

Kieran sets his jaw. “No one will harm you. I won’t let that happen.”

“You won’t let that happen?” My breath hitches, and suddenly I’m trembling. Not with fear. With anger. “You aren’t fucking bulletproof, Kieran!” Yes, I’ve seen him kill a man, but this is a step above him. This is the man who tells him to kill, and he kills.

His eyes flicker.

I step closer, shoving against his chest. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t so much as flinch.

“What do you think is going to happen? You think Patrick’s just going to let you walk away because you said so?” My voice rises, hysteria bubbling beneath the surface. “Why would you even put yourself in danger for me?”

Kieran doesn’t hesitate.

“Because you’re important to me.”

I freeze.

He doesn’t blink, doesn’t waver. His voice is steady, absolute.

“And when I’m loyal to someone, I’m loyal to a fault.”

A cold weight sinks into my chest.

“But you’re loyal to Patrick.”

Kieran nods. Then, before I can move, his hands grip my arms, fingers digging in just enough to hold me still. “I’ve never disobeyed him.” His voice is quieter now, his breath warm against my face. “Until now.”

My pulse pounds against my ribs. “Kieran—”

“I won’t kill you, Hazel.” His grip tightens just slightly. “It’s not happening.”

I want to believe him. I do believe him. But that’s in this moment. And moments are fleeting.

His lips crash against mine.

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