Taming the Obsessed Mafia Boss
“Don’t start.”
She smirked. “I’m just saying. Maybe Jonathan’s finally pulling out the big guns.”
I frowned, picking up the flowers. Nestled between the petals was a small card, and when I flipped it over, my breath hitched. A black Cross symbol stared back at me.
Not Jonathan.
“Let me guess,” Gina said, leaning closer. “It says, ‘I’m sorry, take me back?’”
I stuffed the card into my bag quickly. “Nope.”
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