Model, millionaire, Karlie Cora had done everything she needed to do in order to get in the position she wanted to be in, one of the top models in the world. But she walks into the wrong alleyway and now, the most powerful Mafia man is protecting he...
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"You've got to be fucking kidding."
I haven't been able to spend any time with Karlie in a week and she left to California earlier today, after I told her I'd go with her. Plus, Thanksgiving is tomorrow and all she asked for was to be with me.
Fuck the system.
I'm tired of doing things the right way. I'm in the mafia for fucks sake, my whole life isn't the right way.
"Is there a reason as to why these fucking leprechauns are blowing up my shit?" I ask, slamming my hands against the table in front of me.
I will say, hanging around Karlie as much as I do, has made me talk more and although, it might be a good thing for Karlie and myself, it's definitely not good for the men and women in my mafia.
"They've been planning this for years apparently." Logan says, shrugging as my head snaps towards him.
"If you knew this, why would you say something?" Kane asks, furrowing his eyebrows.
"Um, I didn't think they'd actually do it." He says, slowly as he looks around. He is the most stupidest damn thing alive.
"What else do you know?" I say, closing my eyes in frustration.
Fuck, I really need Karlie right now.
"Well, I don't have their plan." He says like it the most obvious thing. "I just knew they were going to make their plan."
My hand rubs my beard as I take a silent breath. Why can't he ever just know something? This has happened before, believe it or not. He'll know something but never say it until the subject gets brought up. His IQ level is the same level as a 5 year old.
"Is there anything else?" I ask, sighing.
"Oh, we caught one of the men. He's in the basement."
"What the fuck?" Kane asks, making a face as he looks at Logan.
I stand before walking to the basement.
The drugs he does, is clearly going to his brain because he's getting slower and slower every day. He might need to go to a damn nursing home by the time he's 60. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I take a step back, wiping my hands on a towel.
All I've found out was that his name is Dawson Walsh and the leprechauns are willing to pick up anyone for help because Dawson was just trying to make some cash and now, he's paying a terrible price for it.
"Somebody clean this up." I say, walking away.
I think when I finally had a taste of Karlie, my obsession with her deepened because I can't seem to go a week without her.
I miss her.
I pull my phone out, calling Karlie, only to be met with her voicemail. Her dumbass voicemail.
