The Business Arrangement | Mafia Romance 18+

Chapter Two: The Arrangement (Part 2)

POV: Henry

I'm woken by shouting.

Instinctively, I jump from the bed, then pull the glock from my waistband in preparation of a fight. I scan the windows and door, searching for any sign of an intruder.

"Trevor?" I ask, blinking the sleep from my eyes.

He's not here.

I look back to the bed, and finally manage to take in the woman on top of it.

"Shit." I lower my gun.

"Where am I?"

She's curled up at the head of the bed, arms wrapped around her legs. Her hair is sticking up on one side from sleep, but she looks irresistibly cute when disheveled.

I push the thought from my mind. Now is not the time. I need to focus.

"Hotel," I say vaguely.

She glares at me.

"You. Did you kidnap me because I stepped on your shoe?"

I resist the urge to smile. Her voice is low and harsh, but despite her front I can detect fear in her voice. She's brave, I'll give her that.

"No."

Another glare.

"What did you do to me?"

"I carried you home."

She squints her eyes suspiciously.

"Ah, and I checked your phone. It was in your pocket."

"We didn't...sleep together?" she asks hesitantly.

How adorable.

"No. I prefer my women to be conscious."

"But—"

"Trust me, sweetheart. If I'd fucked you, you'd remember."

Her cheeks redden as my words sink in.

"Okay," she says hesitantly.

A pause.

"Do you remember anything from last night?"

I hate to have to ask, but I need to explain the situation to her.

"I remember..." she trails off, eyes widening suddenly, "I met a man. I thought he was just being nice, but then...I think...I think I broke his nose."

A surge of anger rises in my chest. She thought he was being nice, and the bastard tried to take advantage of her. If she hadn't found me in time...

I don't even want to think about it.

For someone who's just survived such a traumatic event, she's remarkably calm.

Then again, she's probably riding out an adrenaline high right now. In a few minutes, once she realizes she's safe here, she'll crash.

"And then?" I add.

"I don't know," she sighs. "But don't think I trust you that easily." She searches her dress for something, then stares angrily back at me, "Where is my phone?"

I point silently to the bedside table, where her phone is sitting beside the clock.

Wait, does that say five thirty?

No wonder I feel so groggy.

She taps the screen for a while, then stares blankly in my direction. I eventually realize the expression on her face is surprise.