Claimed By The Mafia Rogue King (Snow and Cupid) novel Chapter 167

Chapter 167

Chapter 167

Cupid

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The moment I pulled the car to a stop, Desmond stepped out without a word and strode straight into the house, leaving me staring after him in quiet surprise.

What was gnawing at him tonight?

I glanced at the empty seat he’d just left, then in the direction he’d vanished, and nearly rolled my eyes. Something was definitely bothering him.

I climbed out and followed, heading toward Almira’s wing.

Her maids lingered outside the door like silent sentinels. I eased it open with the softest click. She lay peacefully asleep on the bed, and a quiet breath of relief escaped me.

I closed the door just as gently and stepped back into the hall, only to find my father standing there.

He must have come to check on her as well. I bowed in greeting, and he nodded toward her

room.

“She’s all right?”

“Yes,” I replied. “Sound asleep.”

Relief softened his features with a deep sigh, and he turned toward his own bedroom. I fell in step beside him.

“Have you shown her the proof yet, that you didn’t kill anyone on that trip?”

I shook my head.

“Not yet. The wristwatch from that night recorded everything. I’ll have Desmond send it to our underworld contacts; they’ll extract the footage onto a flash drive.”

“That’s smart.” We reached his door, and I opened it for him. “Staying the night in the pack?”

He paused, waiting. I nodded.

“I’ll stay with Desmond tonight.”

“I saw the billboard about tomorrow night’s red carpet.” I swallowed and nodded again. “Yenda

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Chapter 167

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thinks it’s best to host it at our company, with you representing the werewolves as coordinator. Correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Make an entrance they won’t forget. Arrive in full style. I want the media fixated on you alone that night. Plenty of heavy hitters will show, but you’re a Godlike and the face of our men’s brand. You outshine them all.”

I nodded once more. He studied me a moment longer, then murmured, “Get some rest. Good night.”

“Good night, sir.”

He disappeared inside, and I closed the door softly. A weary sigh slipped out as I raked my fingers through my hair and turned toward Desmond’s quarters.

The guards stationed there bowed as I approached, but I stayed silent, pushing open the door and stepping into the shadowed hallway.

The place felt still, until the faint, familiar bite of cigarette smoke drifted from the living

room.

I followed it and paused at the threshold. Desmond sat alone on the couch, drawing deeply on his cigarette, gaze distant. I lingered a beat before crossing to him and holding out the wristwatch.

“Pull the footage from this onto a flash drive.”

He took it with a nod, eyes still averted. I stood there, reading the tension in him, when he finally glanced up, almost surprised I hadn’t moved.

“You want me heading to the underworld right now?”

I didn’t answer directly. Instead, I said low, “I’m staying here tonight. Going to shower.”

I moved into his bedroom and then the bathroom, letting the hot water strip away the day’s weight.

When I returned, I rummaged through his closet, grabbed a pair of comfortable shorts, and changed for the night.

I dropped onto the bedroom sofa, scrolling mindlessly on my phone. My eyes kept catching on articles about the red carpet.

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My throat tightened at the thought of her. Snow. She’d certainly be there too. gods, the ache to see her again was unbearable, but was it right? Wouldn’t I only drag darkness straight into her light?

No answer came. I set the phone aside, draped an arm over my eyes, and tried to surrender to sleep.

The day had drained me dry, and Mother’s cooking still warmed me from the inside. Rest. I needed it badly.

Silence wrapped the room, broken only by a gentle night breeze. I was slipping under when his voice cut through, pulling me back.

“Cupid?”

I opened my eyes slowly. He sat on the edge of his bed, watching me with unusual seriousness. I waited.

“Are you thinking of retiring soon?”

The question caught me off guard; I arched a brow.

“Why ask that?”

“Because of your rogue family,” he murmured. “I’ve known you eighteen years, been at your side through everything, and I’ve never seen you that open, that unguarded, as you were today with Marlik. They mean the world to you. Enough that you might walk away from this job early, just to stay close to them.”

I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat and shook my head without hesitation.

“You know retirement in Mafia isn’t that simple,” I said softly. Then I sat up slowly, “Marlik means everything to me. I grew up with him. We only had three years living as true brothers, but those three years are crammed with memories. He was always good to me. His mother was kind to mine, and to me, back then too.”

Desmond offered a small, understanding smile before asking carefully, “So… do you prefer him over me? I know he’s your oldest friend, but…”

“Stop,” I said gently. He swallowed and fell silent.

“In time, you might not need my help anymore, because…”

“You’re my cousin,” I cut in firmly. “And I’m keeping you at my side whether I need the help or

not.”

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Chapter 167

Relief flickered across his face in a faint smirk.

“But you’ll still need my help.”

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“Plenty,” I agreed, leaning back with a quiet sigh. I glanced at him briefly, finally understanding the root of his mood. It’s the buried fear of being replaced.

I relaxed again, but then she crashed into my thoughts like a heavy stone. Snowflakes Frost.

I hadn’t reached out to her in days. Grandmother’s words had eased some of my guilt.

I wouldn’t bring her trouble if we were careful, but deep down, I couldn’t fully trust myself.

Once the fine dust hit the streets, Feroz would come for me like a storm. A man I’d stolen from would take everything he could in return. I couldn’t let harm touch Snow. She’d already survived far too much.

“Do you have any blunt? Cocaine to sniff?” I turned my head toward Desmond.

He paused, staring at me in silence for a moment before nodding.

I sat up and watched him prepare a tray. He passed me a rolled paper for a line.

Getting high was just another way to escape reality, to dull the sharp edges of that bright, soft, lovely face haunting my mind.

Snow’s.

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