บททั้งหมดของ Indebted to the Mafia King: บทที่ 61 - บทที่ 70

EleniI yank on the stubborn zipper of my suitcase to no avail. It won’t shut. I release with a sigh, and the top flops open to reveal the picture of Dante and Christos I stole from his room. I swallow. I know stealing it is stupid. I don’t really know either man in this picture. But it just feels wrong, leaving this image behind in the shadow of what happened here.I want to remember them like this. Innocent and young, before the Mafia pulled them under. I don’t have any pictures of myself. Mom packed those up and took them with her to Greece. I wonder if I’d even recognize the girl I used to be.My phone vibrates, and I curse. That’s my ten-minute alarm. If I’m not in the car on the way to JFK by the time the last one goes off, I’m going to miss my flight. Gianna convinced me to talk to Dante, but he’s making it a hell of a lot harder by not being here. For lack of anything better to do, I grab a pack of the sticky notes I’ve started going through like water and attempt to write a

EleniI gape at Dante. Christos asked him not to tell us? Why wouldn’t he want us to know he was dead?“Why should I believe you?” I say, clinging to the last vestiges of the shell I’ve built up.He drops back into his seat. “That’s your question to answer. I’ve told you everything I know. I was just keeping a promise.”My anger burns away my grief. “Keeping a promise? You lied to me, Dante. You let me—sleep with you, and you hid this from me.”“I took his body out with the rest of our men,” he says like I didn’t speak. “Tony and I buried him upstate. I buried him, my friend, with my own fucking hands. I can show you, if you want.”I slam my hands down on his desk. “Are you listening to me? What the hell made you think that would help? I’m leaving in the fucking morning.”“That’s your choice,” he says evenly. “But you should know this isn’t a life people just get to walk away from.”“Is that a threat?”He meets my gaze. “It’s a promise. You have a reputation after these last two weeks

EleniI roll over, feeling rested for the first time in I don’t even know how long, and reach for Dante. My fingers meet sheets where I know he fell asleep after our third round last night. Cold sheets. My heart leaps into my throat. I open my eyes and sit up.Rumpled blankets. Clothes scattered everywhere. No sign of Dante. I scramble for my phone to see if Gianna or Tony has been trying to reach me with something important. A few notifications await me. One from my email, alerting me I have an unsaved draft. I swipe that away. I tried to write a polite “no, thank you” back to Professor Calhoun yesterday, and it’s the last thing I need to think about right now. A few general check-ins and junk. One from Gianna that I open without reading the message preview.Hello?? Tell me you didn’t literally leave for Greece without texting me goodbye.I blink. Then, my gaze drifts to the time she sent the message. Eleven am. My heart skips another beat, and I check the time now. Nearly noon.“Shi

EleniWhen I joked that we should go shopping before lunch, have the whole commuter experience, I didn’t expect Dante to take me up on it. I certainly didn’t expect him to trail after me through designer store after designer store, making introductions to the right clerks and offering opinions on my choices. I look at the two extra chairs they had to pull over to our table in the ridiculously upscale if tiny French bistro, both piled with bags full of purchases. I have no idea what’s going on. All I know is there’s a real chance we just spent as much as the semester at Tandon, even with the ridiculous bribe he probably had to make, and he’s still smiling at me over the most expensive burger I’ve ever heard of.At the very least, spending his money feels great. It was the one thing I was scared to do with him gone, and after his behavior at the warehouse the other day, he deserves it.I deserve a little treat from time to time, and based on the look on his face, he likes doing this. He

EleniDante leads me through the lobby, his gaze barely leaving my cleavage, and out into a waiting limo. Today has been so crazy I don’t even ask where the other car with our shopping went. But as we pull into traffic, I do notice the two nondescript sedans that pull out behind us. My heart picks up speed until I spot the license plates. Both Saints cars. They’re nothing more than an escort. Dante is quiet on the ride to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, but I’m bouncing in my seat. I look incredible, feel incredible, and I can’t wait to find out what the hell kind of gala a mafioso goes to and more importantly, why.When the limo pulls up outside, I have to smother a laugh. A massive banner dangling over the front of the stone edifice declares a benefit for a charity helping misguided and underprivileged youth.“Who are you, Dante?”“What?” Dante smiles as he opens the door. “You don’t think I have hidden depths?”I’m about to meet a completely different side of him. Cameras flash as