#1 in newreleases on 2nd Nov 2024
The Mafia Prince Series - Book One
Theodora Lane is one step away from achieving every designer's dream - Skye Maxwell. Thea is over the moon when she discovers the fashion icon herself has booked an appointment wit...
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"Take me to the apartment, please," I instructed Kline as he navigated through the congested city streets. The traffic was unusually dense this evening, far busier than it typically was at this hour.
From beside me, I felt Nate's inquisitive gaze drilling into the side of my head. I continued signing the documents in my hand, striving to keep my handwriting legible despite the car's jolts and stops every time Kline had to brake in the heavy traffic.
"Why?" Nate asked, his voice breaking the silence. He shifted his focus to the back of the seat in front of him, as though lost in thought. He'd been asking a lot of questions lately, a habit that was beginning to irritate me.
"Why what, Nate?" I replied stoically, placing the completed documents neatly into a folder and pulling out the next set.
"You're done for the day. We've handled everything that was pending at the company."
"And your point is?" My tone remained icy. Nate's role was to assist me, not to question my decisions.
"I don't see why we need to stay longer in the city. Why are we going to the apartment?"
With a snap, I shut the file after signing the last of the papers, and clicked my pen before placing it in the seat pocket behind Kline's seat.
"We, are not going to the apartment. I am."
Nate's expression hardened, but he remained silent, his jaw tight as he stared out the window. The tension in the car was palpable. Kline glanced at me in the rearview mirror, a flicker of concern in his eyes, but he said nothing and continued to drive.
The city blurred past as we made our way through the labyrinthine streets. My mind was racing with thoughts of the evening ahead. The apartment was more than just a place to sleep—it was a sanctuary where I could think, plan, and strategize without interruption.
As we neared the building, Nate broke the silence. "Is there something going on that I should know about?"
I turned to face him, my eyes cold and unyielding. "What I do after hours is none of your concern, Nate. Your job is to assist me during business hours, not to pry into my personal affairs."
He nodded, though the tension in his posture didn't ease. "Understood."
The car pulled up to the entrance of the apartment building, and Kline swiftly exited to open my door.
I stepped out of the car, my movements sharp and precise, exuding an aura of barely restrained violence. The evening air was cool, but the heat of my anger seemed to radiate from me. Nate remained in the car, watching me with a mix of curiosity and frustration.
"What is it, Nate?" My voice was low, a warning in itself.
"Is this about her?" Nate asked, swallowing hard. "About Theodora?"
