Page 78 of Chaos

She taps her chin, pretending to debate which one. I tug her towards me, flush against my body. “Let’s do both. Either way, I’m tasting every single inch of you tonight.”

She shivers against me as I release her.

“Sit.” I follow behind her with the food and pull out her chair for her and then sit in mine. After a day of training for my next fight, I’m starving.

I watch as she takes her first bite, letting out a little moan that has me shifting in my seat.

“Good?” I ask, taking my own mouthful.

My dad used to make this all the time growing up. I thought I'd get sick of it. But, as time has gone on, it reminds me of him, so I keep eating it.

“Mm, yes. Very.” She smiles. “So, you like to cook?” she asks.

I twirl my fork in the pasta as I contemplate the answer. “Not really. I was never really home enough to cook.”

She nods slowly. “Will you still be away from home a lot?” She starts poking at her food.

I lean over and place my hand over hers. “No. I have a reason to want to be here now. Although, my work does have some less than social hours. I can’t help that.”

“Boxing? You train in the day, right?”

Leaning back in my chair, I bite down on my tongue. I suppose now is as good of a time as any. Drop the bomb and hope she doesn’t run.

“The boxing, yes. I do that during the day. The stuff for the mafia can be any hour that Mikhail or Nikolai needs me.” I watch her closely.

She coughs, dropping her fork. “Excuse me? You are joking, right?” She fixes her gaze on me.

“No, baby. I am not joking. I’ve done this for years. Back in New York, I was with another family. It’s what I do, what I’m good at.”

She frowns. “Is that how you’ve got all of this?” She waves her hands in the air dramatically.

“No. Not all of it. My father died when I was younger. He left me everything he had. Turns out, it was a fuck ton. Between that, the boxing, and the mafia, I’ve got enough for anything we want.”

A few moments of silence pass.

I stuff in another mouthful despite my appetite leaving me rapidly.

“Well, fuck.” She blows out a breath and slumps back in her chair.

I can feel the cogs in her brain turning, and it’s putting me on edge.

“I don’t want to hide shit from you, Sofia.”

She fidgets with the hem of her blouse before looking up. “Is Maeve safe?”

“Yes.” I don’t hesitate in my answer. No one would get close enough to even breathe in her space.

“You promise me?”

“I swear it. Mikhail’s operation is solid here. I would never let anyone close enough to hurt either of you.”

I keep the issue of Brody’s biker gang to myself for now. It’ll be taken care of soon.

Picking up her fork, she stabs a piece of pasta and eats it. “What about you?”

I raise an eyebrow at her. “What about me?”

“Are you safe? Should I be worried about you not coming home to me?”