A traumatic event places Mia Martinez in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Trying to run from her problems, but instead running into a whole set of new ones by the name of Giovanni Luciano.
Giovanni became the Don of the Italian Mafia at the age o...
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Chapter Two
After James told me Carlos wants to actually see me, I froze completely. He never voluntarily wants to talk to me, so it must be important.
James told me he is waiting in the office for me, and he will take me to him personally. That in itself is weird since I don't go anywhere without Jasmine.
My body has refused to move a muscle. Still planted in the cold stool by the island. My face is frozen, contorted in a confused expression, but my mind is turning wheels left and right.
What could it be? Is he finally going to let me leave? Am I in trouble? What if I did something and he goes after Jasmine.
No.
It could be anything, it's okay.
"Bebita," Jasmine whispers as she puts both of her hands on the sides of my face. She does this to get my attention when I'm lost in my own thoughts.
Which happens more often than not.
I raise my gaze and place it on hers. My hands stop fidgeting as my eyes soften at the worried look that washes over her pale face.
She can see all my worried through my eyes as the gloss over slightly. I refuse to cry because that is weak, and I'm not weak.
She can see the fear of what he's going to do, and she can see the little bit of hope I have that he will tell me to leave.
"James is waiting outside of the kitchen," she whispers as she tucks my hair behind my ears and brushes her lips over my forehead, leaving a small kiss. She pulls away and her voice slightly cracks when she speaks again. "It's going to be okay. It's probably nothing bad."
Jasmine doesn't hide her emotions very well. Her eyebrows are creased, and her eyes are so glossy from tears she's held back. Her lips are pierced and tipped down into a frown, causing her worry lines to be more prominent.
How does she expect me to believe her when she doesn't even believe herself.
"I'm only worried about you," I frown as I pulled her hands off my face and stood up off the stool. My hands get wrapped in her silky blonde hair as I wrap arms around her neck to pull her into a hug. She doesn't hesitate to snake her arms around my waist to squeeze me back.
She's slightly shorter than my 5'7 frame, so her face tucks into my neck and it gets wet from her tears finally coming out.
I don't judge her for crying. I let her cry on my shoulder for as long as she needs. I would be crying too if I didn't grow up used to being scared all the time.
I know she's crying for me, but she's also crying for herself. She saw what happened to Miss Lucy, and she knows that could happen to her any minute, any day.
