Captive of my mafia crush

Chapter 11

Frankie and Nico move quickly around the kitchen, assessing the supplies as I just stand here, looking down at my feet, trying to put the pieces of my reality back together.

Apparently, I stand there for a long time, because before I know it Frankie’s pressing a hot mug of coffee into my hand. “Cream and sugar?” he asks, his voice quiet.

I look up into his face as my fingers close around the cup. “How did you know that?”

He smiles at me, and I can see the real sympathy in his eyes. “You seem like a cream and sugar kind of girl,” he says. And then he winks at me and turns back to the kitchen. “I hope you like dry cereal! It’s all we’ve got, until

we can get some milk.”

There’s no time to reply, though, before Christian walks out of his room again, dressed in what looks like an incredibly expensive black suit. My lips purse a little in surprise, because I honestly hadn’t realized that he’d dressed down last night. But today? Today he looks so handsome, and fashionable, and rich-

Honestly. It’s…impressive.

Christian either doesn’t notice my admiration or doesn’t comment on it, moving past me into the kitchen and taking his own cup of coffee from Frankie’s waiting hand. Black, of course.

sa

He says a low word to Frankie and Nico then, and they look at him in surprise for a second before dropping what they’re doing mid-task and moving out of the kitchen, heading down the hall towards their bedrooms.

Then Christian turns and fastens his eyes on me, lifting one hand and beckoning me forward in a way that he…. definitely learned from someone very, very powerful. I obey, stepping forward into the kitchen, nervous despite

myself.

“Who knows that you’re missing, Iris?” he asks quietly, taking a sip of his coffee. “Who is going to notice that you’re gone?”

I look down at my coffee, a little surprised by the question. “How long am I going to be gone?” I ask.

“Let’s start with today. We’ll go from there. Who’s going to notice today?”

“My professors will mark me absent,” I answer honestly, still looking down. “Though…that’s fine. I haven’t

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Chapter 11

missed any classes yet this semester.”

“Who else?” he asks, his voice blank.

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“My friend, Emi. She’s probably already noticed something is up – we talk every day, and she’ll have noticed that I didn’t text to say I got home.”

“Good,” he says, and I look up at him now, suddenly worried that she’s going to get wrapped up in this. But he

moves on. “Who else?”

“Anthony,” I say instantly, moving down my list of friends. I shift uncomfortably. “But, um…he was there last

night. He’s the bartender at the club.”

“The one with the champagne?” Christian asks, quirking an eyebrow.

I nod, solemn, and Christian nods too. “Who else?”

I blush a little with embarrassment that my social circle is so small. “That’s it.”

“Not Damon?” Christian asks, turning his head to the side.

“Damon is…busy,” I reply. “He’s a chef downtown. It’s not like we’re on bad terms or anything, he just won’t notice today, at least. Over time…” I shrug, letting him know that he would notice eventually.

“And what about your -” he stops himself suddenly, glancing down at his coffee and taking a quick sip before starting again. “Do you have a boyfriend, who is going to notice?”

Slowly, I shake my head. “Not anymore.”

Christian narrows his eyes at me. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean that he already knows that I’m gone, Christian,” I say quietly. “And that he’s not my boyfriend anymore.”

I blush, already embarrassed, already dreading telling him what an idiot I am for loving a man who sold me to the mafia.

“And this boyfriend,” Christian says, his voice derisive as he leans closer to me, studying my face. “Did he know you worked as a stripper? Did he let y

you?”

“Let me?” I snap, flicking my eyes up to him in a little glare. “I do what I want, Christian – at least until now, when

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Chapter 11

you locked up in a penthouse. Steven didn’t let or not let me do anything.”

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Christian smirks a little, I think pleased to see a little fire in me as he takes a long sip of his coffee. I do the same. “What I meant by that question is, was he aware of the risk that you were putting yourself to in order to make money? And he didn’t take any steps to make your situation any easier, so that you didn’t have to work at a place like that to support yourself?”

“I needed the money, Christian,” I say, defensive. Even after everything, I still refuse to look down on stripping as a profession. But I carefully side-step mentioning what I needed the money for. “Dancing is lucrative, and it’s the best thing I could find that brought in a lot of cash while still letting me attend school full time.”

“How much do you need?” he asks, his words quick.

“What?” I ask, tilting my head.

“How much?” Christian pushes, narrowing his eyes at me. “My people found out your address, Iris. I know where you’ve been living, what your rent is. I also know how much money a girl like you pulls in at a club like that. Your credit check says you have student loans, so you don’t need that kind of cash to pay for school – not right now. So? What do you owe, Iris?”

I blink at him shocked – where on earth did he get information like that overnight!? “Wha-” I breathe, “how…?”

“I’m a powerful man,” he murmurs, leaning close and letting me feel the power basically radiating off of him. My heart starts to beat faster, and not – I realize – because I’m scared of him. “I have people for whom finding out these kinds of details is ridiculously easy.”

“So, you already knew, then,” I say, putting my cup of coffee down and crossing my arms. “That I lived with my boyfriend, if you knew where I live and what my rent is.”

“Yes,” he says instantly, his eyes still narrow, letting me see plainly he was testing me to see whether I’d tell him the truth.

“Then why did you –

“How much,” he snaps, his voice louder now, shaking me a bit, “do you owe, Iris?”

“Nothing!” I snap back, glaring up at him now, starting to get pi ssed at his mafia techniques that are trying to scare the answers out of me. “I don’t owe a dime, all right? It was all Steven – he owed the debt, I think to Bonetti – maybe to others. And I was helping him, and he sold me, okay? To pay it off. I just found out about it last night

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Chapter 11

when those jerks tried to take me.”

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I cross my arms, defensive, and look down at my bare feet, standing so close to Christian’s in what look like thousand-dollar shoes.

Christian is silent for a long moment and then I hear him loose a long, unsteady stream of curses- maybe of surprise, or anger, or…maybe he’s ashamed of me? I don’t know. I don’t look up, ashamed of myself.

Before he can say anything else, though, his phone rings. Christian doesn’t move for a second, letting it ring, and then I watch as his feet turn away from me, walking out into the living room. I look up, watching him go as I hear him answer the phone.

He murmurs some responses into it, his face furrowing in frustration, but I can’t tell what’s going on.

As I watch, Frankie and then Nico come out of their rooms, likewise dressed in very posh suits. Nico glances at Christian before coming over to me, Frankie following.

“Who’s he talking to?” Nico asks, his eyes still on his boss.

“I have no idea,” I murmur.

Frankie settles onto a stool as Nico nods and leans against the counter. Nico is quiet for a moment before a side- long glance at my coffee. “You going to drink that?”

“Yes!” I snap, snat ching it away. Honestly, if Frankie had asked for it I’d probably have given to him. But Nico? I take a long sip of the drink, glaring at him over the edge.

As Nico scowls at me, Christian hangs up the phone and turns to us. “What the f uck else is going on, Iris?” he snaps, striding over to the three of us.

My eyebrows immediately go up. “What?” I ask, looking up at him. “I-I have no idea what you’re talking about

“It doesn’t add up,” he says, his glare intensifying. Frankie and Nico watch quietly, carefully.

“Explain,” I say, staring hard at Christian and squeezing the word through my clenched teeth. Honestly, he’s my oldest friend, but he is starting to pi ss me off.

“You’re not the first girl to be sold to a cat house to settle a debt,” he says, his words fast and angry, though!

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don’t notice Frankie’s eyebrows going up in scandalized surprise. “But if that’s all they had on you, they’d have just have gone back to your as shole boyfriend and told him that his payment didn’t go through that he’d have

to find another method.”

“So…” I say, taking a second to put the pieces together. “That’s…n ot what happened?”

“No,” Christian snaps, looking me up and down. “They’re still pursuing you. Which means you’ve got something else, Iris, that they want. So,” he says, leaning against the counter and glaring at me, “what is it that you’re not telling me?”

And I go completely cold because…I have no idea what it could be.

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