Page 47 of Mob Princess

“You okay?” she asked.

Not really. “I’m fine, yes.”

“In my world, ‘fine’ isn’t good.”

I peered down at her. “Well, in my world, ‘fine’ is just fine.”

She smiled. “Good to know, then.”

I took her hand. “Good to know, indeed.”

The way our fingers intertwined made me feel rooted. Feeling her small hand swallowed up by my palm, made me feel powerful. Manly. As if I could conquer the world that laid itself out for me. I scooted closer to her as we got closer to the venue. We slid into the long line of black, gaudy limousines owned by people who wanted to flaunt their wealth rather than actually doing something with it.

As we pulled up to the front of the hotel my brother and I rented for this party, I looked over at Bonnie. “Ready?”

She peeked out the window. “I take it there’s a ballroom inside or something?”

I nodded. “There is. We’ll also get a key as we pass by the front desk.”

“A key? To what?”

“A hotel room, of course.”

She furrowed her brow. “We have a hotel room for the night?”

I opened the door. “For the weekend. Everyone gets one. We booked out the entire hotel for the weekend.”

She frowned up at me. “Wait, you did what?”

I helped her out of the car and slid her sash back her shoulders. I offered my arm to her as she gawked up at the facade of the building, gazing up at all of the darkened rooms.

“Every single one of those is for the party tonight?”

It was rather impressive, wasn’t it? “They are, yes.”

She shook her head. “If it were me? I’d have been just fine with a cookout beside a pool.”

Bingo. “Well, my parents are a bit more uppity than that.”

She giggled. “You did not just call them that.”

I grinned. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

She smiled up at me, and it filled me with strength. I led her through the opened double doors of the hotel, and we were automatically given a key. The penthouse key, of course. My father never did like a penthouse suite. He much preferred smaller hotel suites. “Less to secure,” he’d always said. That meant Bonnie and I could spend a weekend in a luxurious penthouse with meals brought right to our door and a bed we didn’t have to make ourselves.

It wasn’t much of a change from how we lived now, but sometimes a change of scenery could breathe life back into something.

Or someone.

“My God, Israel?” Uncle Rickie’s voice called. “Is that you?”

I turned to see his smiling face.

“It is you! Holy shit, you’ve grown. How’s the family business treating you?” He clapped me on the back.

I returned the pat. “It’s going well, thank you for asking.”

He turned his attention to Bonnie. “And who is this lovely woman you have on your arm?”

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