Page 34 of The Don's Prisoner

“I might have a wine cooler or two in the fridge if you like those.”

She was quiet for a minute longer before she nodded.

“Yeah, okay.”

We got out of the car, and I led her through a small door on the right side, which led to a set of steps that brought us up and into the kitchen. It was a simple kitchen with an open concept, so I could see all of the living room and dining room as soon as I entered the house. It was one of the many reasons I had bought the place to begin with. Fewer walls meant I would have fewer surprises, and that was important, especially in my line of work.

I closed the door behind Victoria as she came into the kitchen after me, and I went to the fridge to grab a beer. When I opened the door and looked inside, I realized that beer and four margarita wine coolers Logan had given me as a gag gift were the only things in there. It was a good thing we had already eaten because I had nothing to offer her. Of course, it hadn’t been my plan to bring her here. It had just happened like that, so she was going to have to understand. Not that I really thought she would complain.

I turned, twisted open the wine cooler, and handed her the bottle. She took it without really looking at me. She was still lost in whatever world had sucked her in.

“What’s going on Victoria?” I asked her in as calm a voice as I could manage. I didn’t want to push her into telling me, but I also really wanted to know.

She looked up at me with eyes full of worry and regret.

“The guy I was seeing… Rex… We had been together for about three months before I met you,” she said, and my brain latched onto the name “Rex.” That was familiar to me for some reason, but I couldn’t pinpoint as to why. It was an odd name, sure, but there was something more important about it, other than it being unusual. “He said he was an “influencer,” so I assumed that meant that he was a YouTube or TikTok star, something to do with social media.”

She paused and I nodded, taking a sip of my beer.

“That makes sense,” I assured her.

“Right? So, I didn’t think twice about it. But when I told him that I didn’t want to see him anymore… he got…. possessive and mean. He told me we were not done and that he was an influencer and a cleaner for the Irish Mafia. Gio, he broke into my house and left me all those flowers tonight. Which means he either didn’t care if I was home or he knew I wouldn’t be. Which means…”

“Which means he is watching you,” I hissed and glared at her. My rage boiled over in an instant, and I started pacing, knocking back more of my beer. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know!” she insisted. “This is the first time he has done something like this! Our relationship… I mean, we kissed a few times, but we had never…. well it never got to the point of real physical intimacy. I never thought he would be this determined to stay together. I figured we were too new.”

“But he knew about me, right?” I pointed out, knowing it would be the truth. Any mafioso worth his salt would keep track of his girl. Once she said “yes” to being with him, she would be followed. Which meant they knew when I had her taken to my office. Which also meant this guy knew she was breaking up with him because of me.

“Yes. He was mad and told me to stop seeing you.”

“I bet he did,” I snarled and turned and punched the refrigerator door, and Victoria jumped. I didn’t mean to startle her, but it was better than doing what I actually wanted to do. I wanted to leave and go find the fucker that thought my fiancée was his girl. He might have seen her first, but I had made the commitment to her first, which made him the chump in this situation. “What is his name again?”

“Rex. Rex McMillon.”

I thought for a moment, pacing back and forth from the fridge to the stove. Victoria stood there, drink untouched, watching my every move like she was afraid I would reach out and strike her next. No chance of that happening. I might grab her, I might scare her, but there was no way I would harm a hair on her head.

Rex on the other hand…

Suddenly, I remembered who Rex was, and my blood boiled. Rex was the pretty-boy son of the Irish Mafia’s main boss—Ian McMillon. He was a known womanizer and, from what I had heard, he had done some pretty horrible things to his exes. He was also a great influencer—someone in the mob who made sure things went the way the organization wanted them to. From stealing votes to rigging horse races to convincing people to sell to us rather than a higher-paying civilian—whatever needed doing that involved persuading a difficult target to make things go our way.

And if he was a cleaner too, then he didn’t care how he persuaded them. If they couldn’t be persuaded, they were ended, and he would dispose of the bodies.

Which meant Rex was not to be taken lightly.

“How did you even end up with him?” I asked, trying to distract myself from starting a war with the Irish, because that is what would happen if I left and went to kill him right that moment. But I couldn’t afford to do that, especially without my father knowing.

“I just ran into him one day, and he seemed to think I should know who he was. When I said I didn’t, he asked if I wanted to get to know him. I decided that I did, so we started talking. He took me out on a few dates… nothing more. Why is he so determined to hang onto me?”

“Darling, people like us are very used to getting our own way. People in our line of work are especially not used to being told ‘no’.” I told her and stopped pacing, taking a deep breath.

Victoria was the victim in this, that was what I had to remember. She had no idea who he was when she started dating him, so it wasn’t like she was trying to pit us against each other, even if that was what would end up happening. She hadn’t even meant to meet me—it was her idiot brother’s fault. She never intended to enter a century-old mafia turf feud. It wasn’t her fault that the Irish and the Italians just didn’t get along, and, for some crazy reason, she was wanted by an important member of both sides.

I couldn’t blame him either, though, as much as I wanted to. If the roles were reversed, I would probably do the same thing. He had her, and then I swooped in to take her. No wonder he was proving to her that he could get into her apartment.

At least I was pretty certain she was safe. He wasn’t trying to harm her; he was trying to get her back. Scare her into leaving me and going back to him. Proving he was the bigger guy, the larger threat. It wouldn’t work though, because not only was he not the larger threat, but I was pretty certain that she actually wanted me now, and it wasn’t just to save her brother’s life.

Her answer at the dinner table, telling Nonna the truth about how we met, had been amazing. I felt her tell the truth, and it caused my heart to tighten a little, which was odd for me. I had never expected to feel that way about her. I knew I needed her, sure. I was pinning a lot on the fact that she would actually go through with marrying me, but I had never pinned my hopes on her actually wanting to. I had thought that was a fool’s dream.

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