Captive of My Mafia Crush
I whisper, watching as the sugar and the pepper together bang into the salt, knocking it over and spraying grains all over the table in a way that looks suddenly…gruesome.
Christian drops his hand from the table and looks at me, giving me time to react.
I raise my eyes to his. “And what happens after that?”
He shrugs. “We let the chips fall for a moment, observe where they lay. And then we make our next moves fast, seizing power in the chaos.”
“Does that mean…more death?” I ask, my voice soft.
“Probably.” Christian answers immediately, holding my gaze, unwilling to lie but ready to take my censure if it comes. But I don’t give it, simply looking back down at the table and studying the pieces