Captive of My Mafia Crush
“I’ve always been here. Those emails, Christian? You could have stopped reading them at any time. You wanted me here, by your side – even the ghost of me.”
“You can’t kill a ghost,” he murmurs.
“Can’t hold one, either.”
We both stare at each other after I say that, and my stomach twists at my own audacity. Because…what the hell did I just admit?
But I just tilt my glass up, taking a sip of my whiskey, going deeper in.
Because, I mean, at the end of the world – what the hell else is there to do except put all of your chips on the table?
“Tell me, Chris.” It’s a command now, not a request.