Page 3 of Mob Princess

I moved toward her. “Your father might’ve been grooming you for something like this, but listen to me carefully. You’re an adult now, Brianna. You can make your own decisions. If you walk away from me right now, you’ve made your choice. This means you’ll deal with the consequences, however they’re doled out.”

She shook her head. “Pava was right about you.”

“Right about what?”

She met my gaze squarely. “You’re spineless. Just like your father.”

I felt my world spiraling around me as Brianna walked off. The sounds of the patio restaurant faded into the background as I turned to face the blue car on the corner. I watched it pull away from the curb and drive off, but the windows were so tinted I couldn't see who was inside.

I knew who they belonged to, though.

And I knew I was no longer safe out in the open.

“Ma’am?” the waiter asked.

I put on my best face. “Yes, hello. I’m sorry. My apologies for the disruption.”

He nodded. “Will you be taking anything to-go?”

I looked back at my sandwich. “Sure. Pack it all up. I’ll take it with me.”

“Any dessert for you, too?”

I paused. “Actually, yes. Two slices of your carrot cake and an order of your shepherd’s pie. With a side of steamed broccoli.”

“Yes, ma’am. Coming right up.”

After placing an order for Israel, I walked back inside. I backed myself into a corner and watched the front door like a hawk. Part of me wanted to call Israel, but the other part of me didn’t want to seem weak by asking him to come get me. So, I waited patiently for my to-go order.

“And another drink on the house,” the waiter said, setting down a glass.

I smiled. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome back anytime, Mrs. Rossi.”

I made my way home afterward, but I was exhausted once I got there. All I wanted to do was shove the food into the refrigerator and take a nap on the couch. Between constantly being attacked, the fear of being watched, and always having to look over my shoulder, I didn’t have an ounce of energy left in me.

All I wanted was to collapse in Israel’s arms and take a deep breath.

But he hadn’t been around lately.

“Israel?” I called out when I walked in. I slipped out of my heels and picked them up. “You here, honey?”

Silence answered me.

I set the food on the counter and pulled my tired body up the steps, continuing to call out for him. “Israel.”

But only the sounds of my echoing voice made it back to my ears.

Disappointment filled my gut as I made my way down the hallway. Ever since the warehouse fire, Israel had me staying in his room. He hadn’t given me a choice in the matter, but it wasn’t a decision I wanted to fight either. I enjoyed laying with him. I enjoyed waking up to him. Even if we hardly talked, and even if he kept giving me side-glances, it still felt nice.

His warmth was nice.

And I wanted it more than anything right now.

“Israel?” I asked weakly.

I emerged into our shared bedroom, but he was nowhere to be found. The bed was perfectly made, and the smell of cleaning products wafted from the bathroom. The maid had been around already. But he was nowhere to be found. I tossed my heels in the corner and wrapped my hands behind me, tugging at the zipper of my pencil skirt.

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