I Saved the Mafia Boss—Now I'm His Obsession. novel Chapter 10

Adriano

⫘☠︎︎⫘

I didn’t know what the fuck got into me when I stood up and followed her, half-naked, half-dead, and still bleeding under the gauze she’d tried to keep on me.

My joints ached, ribs screamed, stitches tugged with every step, but I walked anyway.

Right into the chaos that was her tiny-ass apartment.

The place was a fucking fever dream. Plants were hanging from the ceiling like we were in a jungle, sunlight spilling through the windows. A little couch faced the TV, coffee table cluttered with books and mugs and a crocheted coaster that said hug in a cup. The rug was lopsided, probably tripped over daily, and the whole place smelled faintly like cinnamon and lavender.

Then I saw it.

The cat.

Correction—the demon.

It was camped out in the corner of the room, black, one eye glowing like it knew what I did for a living. The other eye was gone, just gone. The fucker had a walker with tennis balls on the legs, and it glared at me like I owed it money or maybe blood.

“What the fuck is that?” I muttered.

She didn’t even look up from the stove, where the pot of bubbling oat milk was now smoking violently.

“That’s Flan,” she called over her shoulder, “Don’t let the attitude fool you, he’s sweet once you get to know him!”

Sure he was.

He looked like he probably cuddled you while you slept and plotted your murder the whole time.

Flan didn’t blink, he just sat there in his metal-ass walker, eye trained on me, like he was waiting for me to give him a reason.

Giving my head a shake, I stepped fully into her kitchen, if you could call it that. Smoke was curling up from the pot like it was signaling for help, and there she was, standing in the middle of it all, rinsing a scorched pan under cold water.

Her sweater sleeves were bunched up to her elbows, and her hair was a mess of curls that caught the light just enough to distract me for a second too long.

“Need help?” I asked before I could stop myself.

She looked over her shoulder and gave me that same sheepish smile she’d been throwing around since I opened my eyes in this sugar-coated trap she called a home, “Yeah, can you hand me the dish soap? It’s in that cabinet right there.”

I followed her finger to the one above the sink.

The second I opened it, the whole door came clean off the hinges and nearly took my shoulder with it.

I stared at it for a beat, “It broke. Fuck, I'll replace it.”

Her eyes widened, but then she laughed, “No, no, it’s been broken for a year. You didn’t do it.”

What the fuck?

Who lives like this?

No window vent, no working cabinets, a one-eyed geriatric cat guarding the living room.

I handed her the dish soap and glanced around again, realizing how fucking small the space felt with me in it. The ceiling seemed lower. The walls were closer, I couldn't even breathe in here.

Smoke kept piling up, so I went for the window, jammed my fingers under it, and pulled.

Nothing. Tried again, harder.

It didn’t budge.

Of course not.

“This window’s stuck,” I grunted, giving it one last tug out of spite.

“Oh, yeah,” she said brightly, not even looking up from the pot. “That’s been broken for a while too. The landlord’s useless.”

What the fuck?!

I turned back toward her, the smoke curling around my head now, and I just stood there for a second, watching her scrub that pot like it was personal.

Bubbles foamed over the rim and slid down her wrists, dripping toward her elbows, catching on that ugly little friendship bracelet she wore.

I leaned against the counter, arms folded, ignoring the sting in my ribs.

“You live here alone?” I asked finally.

“Mhm,” she rinsed the pot, turned it upside down on the dish rack, then finally looked at me, “Well, me and Flan but I don’t think he counts as a roommate. He doesn’t pay rent. Or clean.” She gestured toward the half-dead cat currently judging me from across the room.

I glanced at the feline demon.

It blinked once, real slow and he still looked like it wanted to claw out my eyes.

“Sometimes, my boyfriend stays over, but lately he’s been so busy. Me working in the mornings, him working at night,” she said casually, like she was talking about the weather.

It rubbed me the wrong fucking way.

I didn’t know why.

Boyfriend.

Cute.

“You should get out of this place,” I said, “Find somewhere safer. Cleaner. Less flammable.”

She looked at me with those stupid warm eyes and shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal. “I’ll be fine. I’ve made it this far.”

People who say shit like that usually don’t...

“Plus, if you haven’t noticed, I’m broke,” she said with a little laugh, “I barely earn enough to pay for my college semester and my boyfriend pitches in half of my f*e, so, all this... I don’t have money for it now, but once I complete college, get my vet tech degree, I’ll move out of here... but after I pay my boyfriend back.”

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