Mafia's Captive Desire
The plate in front of her was already set, scrambled eggs, bacon, buttered toast, and a small bowl of fruit.
“You people act like I don’t eat at all,” she complained, poking her fork into the eggs.
Barry raised one brow, tilting his head. “You don’t. Not properly.”
“I do too,” Lucy argued, pouting as she lifted a bite of toast.
“No,” Barry said flatly, sipping his coffee. “Picking at a muffin until it disappears after three hours is not eating. That’s playing with food.”
Julia chuckled into her glass of juice, while Jessica, who had been quiet so far, finally leaned forward with a smirk. “He’s right, you know. You eat like a bird. If a strong wind blew, you’d probably fly off.”
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