Page 36 of Accidentally Kidnapping the Mafia Boss
“Woman’s intuition.” I think it’s a fair assumption that a mafia boss would be cruel.
He grunts sceptically, a deep noise from the back of his throat and I suddenly remember thinking my brother wasn’t talking to me in the car. I seriously thought that was Noah?
“Sometimes you just know,” I add. “It’s like…” Falling in love.
He’s cared for me, listened, and I don’t think I’ve ever had so many days in a row with hot food I didn’t cook myself. He’s been kinder than anyone I can remember.
Sometimes, you don’t have to have seen something before to be certain it’s true.
I think I love you.
It’s like the first time I came under his tongue. Exhilarating. Unexpected and not what I believed I wanted, butright. So right. I guess it’s Stockholm syndrome, but now I’ve found the label, “love”, I’m reluctant to give it up.
Love. This is a disaster. I bet a woman falls in love with him every time a butterfly flaps its wings, or whatever the saying is. Every time a mafia don has spaghetti for dinner.
I make an involuntary sound of distress. And of course Finn hears, because he’s observant as the big grey wolf he is.
“What is it, pet?” His green eyes sparkle in the warm pre-sunset sunshine as he scans my face, then he scowls and stops us from walking.
“Nothing.” Ugh, I’m no good at lying.
I focus on the dip between his collarbones that I want to lick and convince myself this can last forever. Also a lie.
“Sure, yeah,” he drawls. “You were fine, and suddenly you went all tense and made a noise like you’ve been banjaxed.”
“I don’t know what that means?—”
“It means broken,” he says urgently. “What is it?”
Should I tell him?
Maybe I should?—
Briiinnnnggg.
An obnoxiously loud ringtone shatters the peace of the early evening.
“Ah feck.” Finn pulls his phone from his pocket and stares at it.
Squeezing me closer, he mutters, “Sorry, I have to take this, or I suspect our little holiday will come to an abrupt end earlier than planned. Yes?”
“Kilburn, I thought you wanted to remain the London Mafia Syndicate?”
Finn rolls his eyes.
“Look, the first rule of Maths Club?—”
MathsClub? I must have misheard. I guess they said mafia club.
“Is that you don’t talk about how ridiculous the nickname is?” Finn interrupts.
“Is that you’re not supposed to kidnap people,” the man finishes without a beat.
A mafia club with no kidnapping. Huh. Rules me out then. That and not being a mafia boss.
Finn laughs. “Ah, yeah. About that.”
“I’m sorry if I got you into trouble,” I hiss.
