Come Back To Me: Mafia Romance (18+ Only)

Chapter 1

Welcome to the second book in the "I Am Not A Prostitute" series!! You don't really have to read the first book to understand this one, but it is highly recommended.

My name is Aleksei, I'm a Russian author (living in America), I've been writing for about 3 years not, and I cannot waittt for all of you to read this story!!

It is mature content, please read with caution.

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Alright, Calla, you're a sexy, single, 18-year old baddie. You got this.

I took in a deep breath, pouring in the detergent, slamming the machine door closed and clicking the ON button.

Suck it laundry.

"Calla, what the fuck are you doing?"

I turned to find my friend Rachel grinning at me, her brown hair was pulled into two tight braids, her green eyes full of amusement.

"I'm doing laundry." I shrugged, walking out of the laundry room and into the kitchen.

Sinister left me 3 months ago, and it sucked. He bought me an apartment in Miami, gave me a shit ton of money, and left me. He told me he'd never see me again, and it hurt.

I had allowed myself to fall in love with the devil himself, because I knew...the devil was once an angel. But if there was an angelic part left inside of him, he hid it well. He married me, giving me a ring that was supposed to be a promise, but he took that promise away from me and left me. He said he did it to keep me safe, to take me away from all of the dangers of being a mob bosses wife.

I was doing okay. I made a friend, Rachel, I met her a month ago at the supermarket. I was buying tampons when I saw her sitting in a shopping cart pretending to be Pocahontas. We've been friends ever since. I even invited her to live in my apartment with me, because it had 4 bedrooms and made me feel like I was living in the Playboy mansion...by myself.

"Yo!" Rachel shouted, prancing into the kitchen and hopping up on the counter.

I opened the fridge, pulling out a carton of chocolate milk, "What?"

"What ever happened to your boyfriend that you told me about?" She asked, peeling apart a banana.

"He left me." I shrugged.

She made a confused face, "He left you? Sorry, that's kinda hard to believe. You're hot as fuck."

I puffed out my cheeks, running a hand through my hair, "Yeah. We couldn't be together, I guess."

"Did you love each other?"

"I loved him" I muttered "It's been months and I still think about him everyday. I'm pissed at him for leaving me, but sometimes I'm thankful that at least he came into my life and gave me hope again."

I glanced at the tiled floor, "Being in love was the best thing I ever felt."

She shoved the banana in her mouth, deep throating that shit like it was johnny depp's dick.

"Well" she smiled at me chewing on the banana, "People don't forget girls like you. They try. But I don't they will ever forget what your love felt like."

I smiled at her, thankful for her kind words.

I was always thinking about him. I found myself looking for him everywhere. Every once in a while, I think I see him, and get stabbed by the memories of him. But then I realize that he's never coming back. He left me, and he's never coming back.

There are nights I cry so hard that my body aches, I shake so hard that I shove my head in my pillow and scream so that nobody hears me. There are also those rare nights that I'm happy, those nights that I think about him in the best way possible. Then, there are nights where I feel nothing at all.