Page 64 of Texting My Mafia Boss

I leave the office, head held high, relieved when I see that his secretary isn’t at the desk. Maybe she sensed what was going on and left early to not impose on our privacy.

As I ride the elevator down, my phone vibrates. It’s a text from Ettore.

Ettore: I’ll try.

Mara: That’s all we can do.

The rest of the day goes on as normal. I bury my feelings and put on a bright, happy façade for Sylvie. I think I’ve done a good job until bedtime, when she pulls up her covers and says, “You don’t have to read to me if you don’t want to.”

“I want to,” I tell her.

“You’re smiling but you’re sad,” she says simply.

I feel gutted and seen. She has an incredible ability to perceive.

“Are you happy?” I ask.

She nods sleepily. “Daddy is being really nice and Livia is smiling more and you’re really nice too.”

“Then how could I be sad, huh?” I say, winking. “Now, let’s get this story started…”

As I read, I lose myself in the simple story. And ignore the fact that a few hours ago, I was with her father. The heat between us, not just physically, but the heightened emotions now that we’ve crossed that physical threshold… it’s otherworldly. Soon, Sylvie is sleeping.

I leave her quietly, going to the guestroom. Though, it’s starting to feel more like my bedroom now. I’ve put up a photo of meoutside one of my favorite foster homes, sitting on the porch, knitting in my lap. I sometimes feel pathetic for displaying this, my one chance at a new life… and they didn’t even want me. But I can’t sink into the darkness.

I’ve held off on texting Ettore all day. Now, I sit in bed and take the chance.

Mara: Any news?

Ettore: Nothing concrete. This is all ancient history, though, so I doubt there will be anything solid.

Mara: It’s not ancient to me.

Ettore: No, Mara, you’re right. I shouldn’t have phrased it like that. I just mean that the leads will have gone cold after so long.

Mara: I know what you mean. I’m sorry. I’m feeling touchy.

Ettore: You don’t need to apologize to me.

Mara: Why didn’t you come and tell me as soon as you suspected something?

Ettore: I had to be sure.

Mara: And you had to entertain the possibility I was a spy.

Ettore: I never believed that.

Mara: But a man in your position has to be realistic.

Akillerin his position. He admitted to beating a man to death right before we had sex. That should be enough to send merunning for the hills. Do I think I can tame his darkness? Or am I slowly accepting that I might have a little darkness of my own?

Ettore texts, ignoring my point

Ettore: The loan shark is no longer with us. But I have something. Meet me out back in five.

I stand, checking myself in the mirror. I’m frazzled from the tension, sex, and being with Sylvie all day. I quickly brush my hair, then pull on some shorts and a hoodie. I feel like a fugitive as I creep through the house.

Ettore is waiting in shadow, leaning against the wall. He looks just like he did in that picture Sylvie drew, Ettore Bellandi, cloaked in shadows.