Page 91 of Mafia and Gold Digger

“Yeah. Sometimes, I’m jealous of his and Giulietta’s innocence and naivety.” I remain quiet for a few moments. “It’s a shame that the mafia life forces us to grow up too quickly,” I murmur softly.

“Did your mom have difficulty finding work after your dad died?” he asks quietly.

“Yeah. When you’re the wife of a traitor and thief, there aren’t many options left open for you when majority of the city is run by the mafia your husband tried to cheat. It’s like my family and I are still paying for his mistakes.”

“I’m sorry,” he says softly.

I release a cleansing breath. “It’s okay. All of this stuff is temporary. Once this threat with the Carmine is dealt with, we’ll be able to start over new.”

He’s quiet for a while. “My parents were killed in a drive-by shooting.” His voice is low and deep.

My eyes widen at his admission. “Jesus. I’m so sorry,” I whisper.

He shrugs. “It happened when I was young. I think that’s one reason why it’s refreshing to see your brother. My innocence died along with my parents when I was five. Ever since then, I’ve known that the mafia is a cruel place.”

“I can definitely agree with that. All we can do is play the cards we’re dealt.”

“Yeah.” He looks over at me. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing a great job.”

I blink. “What?”

“Despite the shitty hand you’ve been dealt, you’re not using those cards as a reason to have a messed-up life. You’re looking after your family, and you’re trying your best despite the odds stacked against you. It might not feel like it now, but you’re doing well.”

I can only stare at him. An unfamiliar feeling courses through me. I can’t remember the last time I heard anyone say anything like that to me, not even my mom or siblings. I know they appreciate my efforts, but I didn’t realize how much I actually needed that kind of affirmation. “Thank you,” I finally say. “That really means a lot.”

He smiles at me. “You’re welcome.”

We continue staring at each other, and it’s as if Saint starts to look different in my mind. He’s no longer the guy who’s pretending to be my fake fiancé to keep me safe. Right now, he’s caring, sweet, and compassionate. He cares when he doesn’t have to.

I don’t realize that I’m leaning over until my lips press against his. He freezes, and I quickly jerk back and touch my lips.

“Are you trying to sexually harass me?” he jokes.

My cheeks grow hot as I blush. “Sorry,” I splutter. “I don’t know what?—”

But he cuts my sentence off by pressing his lips against mine once more, his warm hand cupping my cheek.

And against my better judgment, I sink into his kiss and allow my troubles and worries to fall away.

CHAPTERTHIRTY

SAINT

Sitting on the bed, I’m waiting for Emerald to brush her hair before going down to breakfast. I could go down without her, but some part of me likes doing these small things together.

I watch her as she gets ready. She thinks that I don’t know what she’s been up to with my money. But each evening, I get a full report from the bodyguards about her day. This is so that I can check for anything suspicious that might be some sort of threat from Carmine. But I’ve been finding out some very interesting things about Ms. Emerald Fiorelli. Such as what happened to the money she claims to have spent on the engagement ring and lost to my men in poker. Because that money has ended up in the pockets of a charity.

I can easily afford the money, and the charity in question is a very deserving cause, so I’m not worried about that in the slightest. But what is so interesting is that despite her reputation as a gold digger, whenever she has the opportunity to buy something expensive for herself or keep a large sum of my money, she instead donates it to charity. And her actions show that she’s as far from being a gold digger as a woman could be.

But honestly, that realization doesn’t really surprise me…

I’m flicking through my phone as she walks into the closet to grab a sweater. And I remember the screenshot I took a while ago and have been meaning to ask her about. I bring up the photo I have of Emerald’s closet in her old place. “You literally stole all of these?” I ask her as she walks back out, nodding down at the photo on my phone.

She looks over at the screen, her eyes widening. “How did you get a picture of my closet? Are you a stalker or something?”

I shrug. “No, but I wouldn’t mind being a stalker. I reckon it could be quite fun.”

Her green eyes glitter at me in a glare.

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