Chapter 12

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Salvador

Holding a gun against Mona's stomach is breaking my heart. Of course I'm not going to kill her. The safety is off too. The problem is, I don't know if she feels the same way. She's holding a gun up to my head, and I'm not entirely sure about whether or not she will actually pull the trigger.

I've known Mona was mafia the day after she first told me her name. Capriotti. Not a name that can fly past one's head. One of the most dangerous surnames in the world.

Yet, I still wanted to know her. She intrigued me. Despite her background, despite that name, despite being the heir of an enemy empire. Fucking Capriotti. I still want to know her.

So I gathered intel. Found out she wasn't actively working for the mafia. And got to know her. And got close. Let my guard down.

It's pisses me off beyond belief that I still like her. I still want to be around her. I want to take her out for another date. I want to take her to the beach. So fucking stupid, right?

She's so powerful, I should have killed her as soon as I realised that. But that is easier said than done with a woman like Mona.

I look at her deeply in the eyes. And for the first time since I've met this woman, I know what she's feeling. She glares at me intensely. She's fearless, as a mafia boss should be, but she's sad. Her eyes are painfully sad.

It's as if my hand has a mind of its own, it moves the gun from her stomach and shoves it into my pocket. I sigh and glare back at her, in self-annoyance. She doesn't move her gun. That pisses me off. Accept my truce Mona. I swiftly reach for the gun hovering at my head and throw it across the room.

When I look back at Mona, I expect her to be furious, but she's watching me intently. A slight smile forming on her beautiful, angelic face.

"I'll replace that." I state, guiltily.

She chuckles, and I smirk in return. Her laugh is music to my fucking ears.

"No need." She whispers.

I feel a connection between us that I don't think I've ever felt with anyone. Maybe it's because of that mutual environment. The power, the money, the ruthlessness. Maybe It's because we're not normal. We're not the people walking down the street. We're the people killing enemies in an alleyway. We're the criminals, that's our life, that's who we are.

The sexual tension is achingly obvious in the room, and I can feel us being pulled together. As if it's some sort of magnetic field. I would happily fuck her right now right here, but she turns away.

"What do we do?" She asks, her voice filtered with anxiety. Her back is facing me, I don't think she can bare to look at me. Maybe she feels how I feel; ashamed that I couldn't kill.

I grab her shoulders and turn her back around to face me. My heart drops when I see that tears are sitting steadily in her eyes. I tuck her hair behind her ear. I just want her to be okay. Above all of this shit, she's a human. A woman. The first person I've actually wanted to commit to. I can't have her feeling this way. Fuck my dad.

As long as I'm alive, this woman will never be messed with by anyone.

"Let's go to the beach." I suggest, as an answer to her lingering question. Her gorgeous, tearful, sparkling eyes meet mine. A small smile forms on her lips and she nods gently. I kiss her on the forehead lightly.

"We're in charge Mona, not them," I reassure her "okay?" I look down at her face, having to bend over slightly because of the height difference.

"Okay."

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