Captive of My Mafia Crush
“No, I mean why are you asking this now? In conjunction with where I was two nights ago?”
“Because,” I say, smiling a little. “You don’t usually wear so much pink on your collar, Christian. But when you came back that night…”
He huffs a satisfied little laugh, shaking his head at me. “Spy,” he mutters.
“Mafia King,” I counter, cocking an eyebrow, which just makes him laugh harder. “So?”
Christian sighs, picking up his fork again. “No, Iris,” he replies before popping the bite in his mouth. “I do not have a girlfriend. I have…women. Whom I see. Occasionally.”