Page 40 of Sexting His Son's Ex
“Keep your voice down!” I hiss, noticing a few people glancing over at our table.
“Well, did you? You better not have given your v-card to that asshole, Jovie, I swear,” she seethes, her winged eyeliner appearing demonic when she stares me down.
“No. No.” I shake my head. “I didn’t. I… I might have done something worse.”
She raises her sharp, drawn on black eyebrows, then leans forward. “You did anal?”
“Oh my god, no!” I screech, my face turning beet red.
Marlowe snickers. “Don’t keep me guessing!”
“As an act of revenge, I sent Luca’s father flowers until he texted me, and he doesn’t know it’s me, but we’ve been sexting, and oh my God, Marlowe, he is… perfect. I feel terrible. I did it initially to get back at Luca and now, I’m falling for him.” I twist my hands together. “I need to stop. Cut things off. Move on. I shouldn’t have done it. I have to come clean to him soon. I’m not built to deceive.”
Marlowe stares at me, mouth parted, clearly stunned. She doesn’t say anything as a minute turns to two, then three. I take a big swig of my champagne, waiting for her to say something, anything. I’m ready for her to call me an idiot, a dumbass, tothrow water on me or her champagne. Something, anything to tell me that I’m a fool.
She closes her mouth with so much force, her teeth clink together. She snags the champagne flute, and chugs half of her glass.
“One, I’m shocked you did such a thing. High-five.”
“High-five?” I question, stunned, but still, we slap our palms together over the table.
“Two, you can’t just cut things off with the mafia. It doesn’t work like that. He won’t let you just stop talking to him.”
I rear back. I’m confused.The mafia?What the fuck would I be talking to the mafia for? “Jovie, I’m not talking to the mafia. Are you getting people confused? I’d never do that. The mafia…” I lower my voice even more. “Don’t they kill people?”
Marlowe blinks at me, confused herself. “Wait. Wait. Wait. You mean to tell me; you had no idea Luca was Luca Salvati? The next in line to take over for Santino Salvati? Luca is the mafia boss’s son. Santino basically controls the entire city, well, the North side. Bianchi controls the South. How… how have you managed to not know these things? Everyone whispers about Santino. And yes—” she darts her eyes around to see if anyone is listening. “They kill people. He has killed people and I’m worried what he will do to you when he finds out that the person talking to him is you. He doesn’t like it when people make a fool of him.”
My mouth fills with saliva as bile threatens to spew from my mouth. I’m going to be sick. What have I done? Oh my God, am I going to die? Is Santino going to kill me? I cover my mouth with my hand, doing my best to take calm deep breaths.
“I didn’t know.” I hold back tears. “I-I don’t pay attention to what people are saying. I hardly leave the shop, you know that! I just thought Luca was from a wealthy family, I didn’t know…”
“I mean…” Marlowe frowns a bit, pondering. “He is from a wealthy family. You weren’t wrong.”
“How do I fix this? I don’t know how to fix this, Marlowe. Do I beg for my life? Do I leave town? Do I change my name? Where would I go?” My breathing changes its pace, coming in quick beats.
“Okay, woah. Calm down. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Everything will be okay. Maybe ask to meet with him and explain everything. Maybe it won’t be bad. I’ve heard he’s pretty reasonable compared to most bosses.”
I down the rest of my champagne, my cheeks flushing with heat. I study the room, wondering if I’m the only idiot in the room who didn’t know the Salvatis were mafia.
“This is why I tell you to redownload your news app.”
I groan. “It’s always so negative. I hate it.”
“Yes, but you’d know that they find bodies all the time and pull them out of the bay. They always think it’s Salvati, but they have no proof. He has everyone on his payroll. He owns this city, Jovie. He’s the most powerful person in the state. Hell, probably the country.”
I sit there with a churning in my gut. My appetite vanishes and I no longer want to be here. I want to go home. I want to change my phone number and if I could, I’d move the shop five states away and change my name.
I’ve seen to many movies where that didn’t even work though.
My eyes catch a glimpse of a man walking through the restaurant with two other men flanking him.
“Oh, no.” I stop breathing when I see Santino walking towards me, wearing a tailored dark blue suit with black lapels. His hair is slicked back, showing off his defined features and green eyes. “He’s here.”
Marlowe turns around and winces. “It’s okay. Let’s just focus on our champagne and this amazing food. He doesn’t know, right? And he doesn’t need to know right now.”
I nod slowly, grabbing the glass of water, and downing it. “You’re right.”
Until his eyes lock onto mine. His expression changes, one filled with intensity.
