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Chapter 1 A Messy Life and the Mafia
Six months ago, I was a promising med student on the verge of all my dreams coming true, but now I’m just a waitress trying to start over in a new city.

I know this restaurant I work at has ties to the infamous Onyx Mafia, but I didn’t have much choice—it's the best-paying job I could find.

Besides, the scariest thing about working here isn’t the Mafia, it is the man at table eight flagging me down, obviously fuming.

“What looks wrong here?” He snaps and I scan table eight's orders. Foie gras for the blonde in red, Peking duck for the pouty daughter—check. But the impatient bald man tapping his fingers? He got the risotto, not the ribeye currently in front of him.

A cold sweat sweeps down my spine as I look between the squinting gaze of the man and the squiggles that are my handwriting. I still write like a surgeon, yet another reminder of my failed dreams. "Wait, I'm sorry... you ordered--"

My hands tremble, and my heart sinks as I realize the kitchen couldn’t decipher my handwriting and just took a guess. Lucky me, their guess was wrong. "I-I think the kitchen--"

Before I can finish my sentence, Jessica descends upon us like a vulture, risotto in hand. "Apologies for the inconvenience," she chimes in, her voice dripping with faux sympathy. "Elise here is still learning the ropes."

"I can tell," the man responds curtly, his attention entirely on Jessica, silently dismissing me. There goes my tip.

"Sir, I noticed you’re drinking the 1984 Chateau. Let me send another round on the house for your troubles," Jessica offers breathlessly, her bosom on display as she leans in, her eyes batting just like they did back in high school.

The man grunts in agreement as her fingers dig into my arm like talons. She whispers through clenched teeth, "Kitchen. Now."

I bow my head obediently as I follow her into the chaos of the kitchen.

When I moved here, I promised things were going to be different. I would be no one’s stepping stool, and yet here I am again, at the mercy of another girl who appears oblivious to the fact that we graduated high school.

“Elise struck again, boys!” Tony, the sous chef, calls out, his laughter echoing through the kitchen. “What was it this time? Dropped another soup? Tripped and broke all the glasses?”

In my defense, the soup incident happened because a man molested me, and Jessica tripped me while I was carrying glasses for an 18-person table.

“Oh, tonight she gave one of our regulars the wrong meal.”

“It’s the kitchen’s fault. I ordered a risotto, not a ribeye."I retort, pushing my glasses up as I glare at Jessica.

“And who could tell with that chicken scratch handwriting?” Tony snorts.

“Remember she wanted to be a surgeon,” Jessica sneers. “Doctors notoriously have terrible handwriting, but not waitresses.”

The other kitchen staff snicker at her remark. They all think I went to med school and couldn’t cut it. But they don't know the truth, and it would be worse if they did.

I take a deep breath, trying to push down my anger. "You were supposed to be a surgeon, marry Sirius, live your perfect little life," she snaps back, the mention of his name, Sirius, still a punch to the gut after all these years.

I bite my lip to stifle the retort that threatens to spill from my lips and look down at my tennis shoes, a lump forming in my throat. I can still remember the feeling of the day he disappeared.

I told everyone he loved me, that he would be back, and that he would never just leave me, but they were all right. He was gone. He didn’t want me anymore and wasn’t brave enough to say it to my face before disappearing.

I don’t know what I’d do if I ever saw him again. It’d be a combination of running into his arms, waiting to see every bit of his life I missed, and kicking him where the sun doesn't shine. "But then you ended up at the bottom, where you’re meant to be."

I hold my breath. I can’t show Jessica she’s getting to me.

"Good thing Sirius came to his senses like we all knew he would," Jessica retorts. "Once he was done slumming it, he ran away from you as fast as possible. I mean, you practically ran him out of town."

The lump in my throat swells as memories of his abandonment flood back, the pain still fresh. "You know what--"

"Those better are words of gratitude, Elise, because I am two seconds away from firing you," Jessica interrupts, her smirk widening as she relishes in my discomfort.

I swallow back my retort, facing Mr. Thompson, the restaurant manager.

Mr. Thompson's stern gaze pierces through me as he approaches. "Elise, why do I have Mr. Kelsey asking for a free bottle of wine for his troubles?"

"I-I'm sorry, Mr. Thompson," I stammer, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'll do better, I promise."

"You have been promising to do better for weeks, Elise. That is not enough anymore," he snaps.

"I'll work harder, I swear," I plead, desperation creeping into my voice. "Please."

Mr. Thompson holds up a hand to silence me. "You've got one more chance, Elise, but you’re out of here if I hear one more complaint. Do you understand?"

I nod frantically."Yes, Mr. Thompson. I won't let you down. I promise."

He scoffs, clearly unconvinced. "For the rest of your shift, you are exclusive to the VIPs upstairs," he continues, his tone stern. "They’re too drunk to notice your insolence."

"Yes, sir," I whisper.

"And you better be on your best behavior because the Mafia king is here," Mr. Thompson warns. "And if I don’t have your head, he will."

I swallow hard, the weight of his words settling like a lead weight in the pit of my stomach, as I nod, feeling a shiver run down my spine.

Mr. Thompson storms off into his office, leaving Jessica behind me with a wicked gleam in her eye. "Looks like you're on thin ice, Elise," Jessica says, her tone dripping with faux sympathy. "Better watch your step."

"Why? You’re going to trip me?"

"I would never, but since you are exclusive to VIPs," Jessica hands me a tray of appetizers too heavy for me to hold without almost falling over. "Take this to table 19... the King’s subjects are there."

I take a deep breath as I walk out of the kitchen and into the dining room. But as I look up at the men sitting upstairs, a wave of dread washes over me, making me want to run in the opposite direction.

They're overly comfortable, as if they own the place as if they own the world. And in a way, they do. The rumors swirling around the restaurant's ownership, whispers of connections to the mafia, suddenly feel all too real. Each step closer to the VIP room feels heavier, as if I am dragging myself closer.

As I approach, the men’s eyes leering over me like predators sizing up their prey. The minute I set down the appetizers, a hand grips the back of my leg, sending a shiver down my spine.

"Hey there, sweetheart," the man slurs, his breath reeking of booze as he pulls me into his lap. "Why don’t you clock out and hang with the big dogs?"

I squirm, feeling his hand wander where it shouldn't."No. Stop it. I have to get back to work," I protest, trying to push him away.

But he only laughs, his grip tightening as his friends jeer and egg him on. I squirm, feeling something hard poking me, I begin to panic. He hisses in excitement in my ear. “Yeah, baby, keep doing that.” I try to pull away, causing my glasses to go flying. Great, now I’m blind too.

I struggle with my body, tears stinging as I attempt to slide out of his lap, “I need my glasses.”

“You do not need glasses for what we are going to do.” He pinches my chin, leaning in as if he is going to kiss me, but the sound of a growling, cleared throat causes him to pause.

Panic rises in my throat as I realize that none of these guys will help me and that going against the Mafia for some random waitress is a losing battle.

"In my restaurant, we do not tolerate harassment of women," the voice declares, cutting through the VIP, firm and unwavering. The handsy man practically throws me onto the floor as he looks up at the gentleman standing in front of him.

I turn to see, in my blurry haze, the silhouette of a man looming protectively over me, his presence exuding authority and strength. The handsy man stutters as the man approaches us, “King. She approached me.”

“Really? Are you calling me a liar?” The Mafia King’s voice is calm and sharp, like a shard of ice.

“ No, my King, but she is a call girl!” I snap, looking back at the handsy man before turning to the King to plead my case. But I pause. The King’s head is tilted as he looks at me.

The King’s voice is laced with disappointment and concern, “A call girl?”

Chapter 2 Mafia King Knows Me？
“What, no!” I stand up, “I am not a call girl!” My hand instinctively reaches for my glasses, but they're not there. With a frown, I protest, glaring at the accusing handsyMafia man.

“No call girl is too nice for what she does on her knees.” Jessica stands next to the stairs, arms crossed, leaning on the railing.

“She solicited me. Asked me to come get her after work because she needs to make some extra money,” the handsy man pleads, but the King stares at me.

Jessica saunters over, her hand casually trailing between her bosoms and up to her collarbone as she walks. She stops in front of the King, a coy smile playing on her lips as she leans close to whisper in his ear.

“Think about it, darling. A woman who can get close enough to you without suspicion and weasels her way into the VIP area. Doesn’t that sound like a call girl?” The movements Jessica makes intrigue me as if she can turn on and off her alluring appeal.

The King's gaze never leaves my direction as Jessica whispers in his ear. Slowly, he straightens up and pushes Jessica slightly back. “You seem to know a lot about the position of a call girl,” King says, but Jessica playfully laughs that off.

“I admire how they always seem to get their way.”

Gears start to turn in my mind as I squint at Jessica’s blurry form. She looks innocent and inviting, as if she is just flirting, but she is fully prepared to go much further than that.

But I can see past her facade now, despite my broken glasses and the blurry world they left me in. Squinting, I can just make out the calculated way she moves and the sharpness in her eyes. I interject before Jessica can respond, “King, look at her body language. Even through the blur, she’s loose, inviting, and sensual as she speaks to you.”

The King's gaze shifts from me back to Jessica, a new sense of awareness in his eyes. “When you came in here my body language was stiff, closed off. If I were a call girl like her, I wouldn’t be a good one, would I?”

Jessica's facade wavers for a split second before she regains her composure, letting a seductive smile spread across her face. The King lightly chuckles as he pushes Jessica away, “It takes more than a brain full of silicone and fake bosoms to be a good call girl, but I see your point.”

“It’s an act some guys like, King, a little bit of fight,” Jessica goes to reach for the King again, but he grabs her wrist tightly, his body tense.

“Do not touch me again,” the King drops her hand with disgust, wiping his hand on his jeans as he continues. “ I have let you humor me with your lies, but do not treat me like a fool.”

“No, King I would never,” the King gives her a humorless laugh as he invades her space menacingly.

“You think you could play me for a fool because I am a man I must be ruled by my hormonal drive? Is that it?” The King looks her over in disgust and turns away, “Get out of my sight.”

“King, you have to be protected from her.” Jessica approaches him again, feigning innocence, but the King’s subjects block her as he moves closer to me.

“You underestimate me because I have shown you kindness. I will not make that mistake again. ” He slowly looks over at Jessica, and I can tell from how her knees buckle that she sees the darkness in his eyes. “ You're fired.”

“King, I’m sorry I-”

“You have three minutes to exit. I would use that time wisely.” Fear strikes across Jessica’s face as she scrambles back down the stairs. I bow my head, looking at my tennis shoes, unsure of the punishment I may receive.

I don’t know how long I have been looking down, but a hand holding my broken glasses evades my eyeline. “Oh, thank you.”

“They are shattered, can you see otherwise?” I shake my head, not allowing my hair to fall into my face. The King pinches my chin forcing me to look at him, and I can make out the sharpness of his jawline. His touch shoots a spark of electricity down my spine, and my breath hitches. “I will-”

“I have contacts downstairs. You know, in case of emergencies.” The King looks at me as if a thousand questions are running through his mind.

“Why are you working here?” I struggle back, slighting, and the King releases me. Jessica was right in a way I was supposed to be so much more. I was supposed to be a surgeon. I had the brains for it. The steady hands. The determination, but it is not often a stranger can see you are meant to be so much more than what you are.

In the blur, I try to find his eyes before I respond, “Most people can’t do what they truly want to.”

The King nods sharply before taking a step back and clearing his throat. “I don’t want you in the VIP rooms anymore. They’re filled with dangerous people, and normal people shouldn’t be around them.”

“You sound worried.” I laugh at the King’s warning.

“I am serious, Elise. I don’t want you up here again.” The King’s voice is sharp, and I straighten at the command.

“As you wish, King.” His lips in a tight line, he nods taking a small step to the right, allowing me to shimmy past him. I stop and turn around, “Thank you for everything.” He doesn’t respond, opting for a sharp nod.

I walk forward, clutching my broken glasses, looking down when another figure blocks my exit. The blonde guy with an easygoing smile clears his throat as he nervously scratches the back of his head, “Hey," he says, his voice wavering slightly. "I'm sorry about what happened back there. Are you okay?"

"I'll survive," I reply with a shrug, avoiding eye contact. His gaze lingers on me for a moment before he nods slowly.

“Well, I was wondering if you would give me a chance to show you not everyone in the Mafia is not a pig?” I give him a small smile, feeling the heat of someone’s eyes behind me.

“I don’t think my boyfriend would like that very much.”

The snort causes me to turn around, and the King blends into the black leather couch, looking at me, “Boyfriend?”

“A great boyfriend. If that matters?”

The King coughs, “Not at all.” He looks over at a disappointed Jacob. “I just told her to steer clear of us, and you ask her out on a date in front of me.”

“What shot would I have after this if you ban her?”

“None. You get no chance.” The King growls, and I back up towards the stairs. “Leave now, Elise Caroline. I don’t want to see you up here again.”

His warning is sharp and declarative. With a small squeak, I scurry down the stairs, but I pause before I enter the kitchen. I never introduced myself. I never told the King my name, yet he said it not once but twice, and the second time, he used my middle name.

Does the Mafia King know me? Do I know him?

Chapter 3 Rumors and Crisis
I don’t breathe until the kitchen doors slam behind me. How does the Mafia King know my name, surely he knows all his employees' names. He may just be a great boss. Right, that’s it. The Mafia King is a great boss who would’ve thought?

My breathing slows and I realize I’m so caught up in my thoughts I don’t feel the entire kitchen looking at me until Toni clears his throat. “Elise?”

I look up at him, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but I don’t respond. Instead, Dawn, the pastry chef, approaches me with flour-covered hands. “Hey girly, are you okay? Did the King…hurt you?”

I shake my hand no, a strangled breath releases from my lips, and Dawn sighs, squeezing my cheeks. “Good because the King has no right hurting a girl as innocent as you.”

“Like that would’ve been his first time!” Kelsey, the saucier, laughs in the corner of the kitchen.

“Kels, you’re not helping,” Dawn snaps, but Toni approaches us wickedly.

“I heard his favorite way to murder is the bloody eagle.”

“Toni!” I look at Dawn’s horrified face as she runs to cover my ears.

“What's the bloody eagle?” I whisper. The dread I had swimming in my gut since the King first laid eyes on me bubbles to the surface. I feel like I could vomit.

“All I’m going to say is ribs pulled through the back. If you want more details, do your research online.” I would not, but Kelsey laughs, shaking her head.

“I wouldn’t put it past him. The King treats his subjects like their commodities, completely replaceable. He’s the youngest King ever, and you don’t get to be King in your twenties without a trail of blood behind you.” Kelsey points her ladle at us in warning, “So watch ya’ step, or the King will gut ya’ like a fish!”

“Or hang your head above his fireplace, I heard the king loves a trophy, and a pretty head like yours would be perfect.” Toni swats at my hair and Dawn pushes him back to his station.

“What is all this racket?! Kelsey you’re messing around and broke the sauce!” The Head Chef, Yolanda enters the kitchen with a stern look in her eyes, “And you! Why aren’t you running my plates?”

“I-I…” I rub my hands back and forth, feeling the tension of being in trouble for the third time tonight.

“She just had an interaction with the King. Leave her alone.” Dawn snaps. Dawn and Yolanda are childhood best friends, and Dawn is the only one who can talk to Yolanda that way and still have her job.

Yolanda’s face pales as she walks closer to me, “You interacted with the King and made it out alive? Count your lucky stars.” Yolanda approaches me cautiously and I don’t realize all the stress is forcing tears to burn in my eyes. “That man is cold-blooded like a snake.”

Despite the bile I balance in the back of my throat, I look Yolanda in the eye and shake my head, “No, he protected me. He knew my name.”

“He knew your name because you have a name tag on your shirt.” Yolanda flicks my name tag and I look down at it, a pang of disappointment shivering through me.

“Protect you?” Dawn questions, “You didn’t say anything about the King protecting you.”

“That may be worse. A dangerous man like him may like you, want you.” Yolanda whispers. My eyes widened. My skin flushes as Yolanda and Dawn share a look with each other. The King knew my name. The King wants me. I remember the way he said boyfriend as if it was the most disgusting word on his tongue. But just as I spiral, Dawn and Yolanda break into laughter.

“Girl, bless your heart! A man that fine wants you. You better be over the moon happy.” Dawn lightly hits her rag on my right arm, and I flinch, holding my breath.

“I mean, those gray eyes are just delicious!” Kelsey chimes in.

“Nope, it has to be black curly hair.” Those eyes, that hair remind me of Sirius. His eyes could be a storm with everyone else and clear with me. How a single curl always danced in the middle of his forehead, and I’d spend all day pushing it back. The days when he was my Sirius. The laughter snaps me out of my daze. “I bet he wakes up with his hair like that, just messy and perfect!”

“Yolanda, I don’t know if you want to be him or sleep with him?”

“Does it matter?” The entire kitchen erupts into laughter. “I would take him any way I could get him. He is so fine!”

“So how did he look up close, Elise? A walking daydream, huh?” Kelsey leans over her pot, wiggling her eyebrows. I hide my head slightly, blush to creep up the apple of my cheeks.

“I don’t know,” I show the kitchen my glasses. “I broke my glasses. All I could see was tall, charming, and hot.” The entire kitchen boos.

“You get close to the Mafia King, and your glasses break!” Dawn pouts, pushing me away, and I giggle for the first time in this entire situation.

“Sorry, I can’t tell you how hot he is. You’re going to have to figure that out yourselves!”

“Hey! Why is no one helping me out on the floor?” An upset waiter enters the kitchen looking around at us.

“I’ll be right there, just let me get my contacts.” I head towards the break room and rummage inside my purse, revealing my contact lenses. I begin to replace my contacts, looking into the crappy workplace mirror, but once my vision is clear, all I can see is my missing earring. One of my silver earrings from Sirius, he got me for our last anniversary together.

He’s already missing. I can lose the last thing he’s ever given me. I look over at the floor near my locker, but I know where it is. It’s in the VIP area. I turn on my heel towards the VIP area. The Mafia King's warning echoed in my mind, I don’t want you in the VIP rooms anymore. It’s filled with the type of dangerous people, normal people shouldn’t be around.”

I push his warning into the back of my mind. With a deep breath, I start walking up the stairs. I’ll be quick! In and out before anyone notices.

As I enter the VIP area, I immediately fall to my knees, crawling around for the earring and hiding from the boisterous men laughing around the bar. I freeze when the King’s voice booms through the area, “You’re lucky I don’t collect your freaking head!” The music in the VIP clicks off.

“Boss, it was just a girl!” The man snaps back and the entire area seems to hold their breath as the twinkle of something catches my eye.

“A girl under my protection. The same way you are under my protection.” The King's voice is even and controlled again, “And don’t I always protect mine?” I contort my body, grabbing the dangled earring from underneath the couch. “Let me provide you with this small mercy. I promise you the alternative is lethal, and it would be a shame to murder you when you’re still useful to me.” The club music clicks back on as if nothing happened.

I sit up on the floor, fixing the earring in my ear. When the footsteps descend towards me. I am not quick enough when I hear the humorless laughter of the handsy man, “You are the freaking pain of my existence. I’m on grunt duty because of you.”

I look up, my eyes darting between him and the stairs. If I jump up and run. I should make it. I will make it. I propel myself off the floor, running towards the stairs, but the handsy man is quicker. He pulls me back by my hair, caging me in. My breath hitches as cold metal digs into my side.

His breath gushes over my face in puffs thick with the scent of tobacco and gin. “ Go on and scream. No one will hear you, and it’ll only make this more fun for me.”

Chapter 4 The Mafia King is My Ex?
“ Go on and scream. No one will hear you, and it’ll only make this more fun for me.” His fingernails dig into my wrist, but I bite back any response watching his nostrils flare. “You got me suspended from duties because you rather spread your legs for the King than me.”

He pulls me against him, snarling at my confident facade. I look down at the mark forming on my wrist, keeping my voice as even as possible, I say, “I do not want the King. I do not know the King.”

He pushes me against the brick wall, and with my better judgment, I whimper, gripping the back of my head, “You dare lie to me? After all you have done, you freaking lie to me?” Spit sprays over my face, his eyes bulge out of his head as he holds me against the wall. The concrete dug into my skin.

“Please,” I whisper.

“Please?! Please! You purposefully lead me to the freaking slaughter, shaking your tight body for the king, begging him to punish me for your fault.” His wet breath drips down my face, and I look away towards the hallway leading to the King.

I didn’t know the King. He did not need to come to my rescue, yet he did. Maybe the King liked me the way Dawn said, but what did it matter? I did not want him. “I am not sorry you were punished. I said no.”

“Oh, so this is the little game we’re going to play? You say no, and mean yes.” A greedy, devious smile spread across the man's lips as if the idea of conquering me in such a manner excited him. “You little freaking tease.” His palm digs into my waist, and my eyes water over, straining to look down the hallway to the King.

“No.”

“You like causing trouble, huh? You like luring men in to watch them. ” I hear the click of his belt, a dooming sound. “You need to be taught a lesson, and I love punishing little girls with fresh mouths.”

A voice and the click of a door opening cut the tension. “Boss, who even was she?”

He pulls me into a corner. He pulls me in front of him and presses himself on me. His gun is tucked under my chin, and his arm is wrapped around my waist as he whispers in my ear, “Don’t make a freaking sound.”

I watch the King walk down the hallway, most of his subjects a step or two behind him. The young member with dirty brown hair and colorful tattoos walks almost in step with him. The King’s voice almost sounds bored as he responds. “That is none of your concern, Taylor.”

“You punished one of your own men for her. I think you owe us an explanation.” Taylor snaps, stopping the King in his steps.

“Owe?” He slowly turns, and I can see the King’s face clearly through a sliver of light. The girls downstairs didn’t do him any justice.

He was breathtaking. Dressed in a tailored black suit, the fabric stretched taut over his muscular frame, his white button-up exposed the tattoo in swirling patterns on his chest and up part of his neck. His curly black hair was gelled back into a style of sorts, but two unruly curls escaped and framed his face.

His eyes swirled like a storm, erupting and flashing between the calming gray and black. He looked almost like a tortured angel. He almost looks like Sirius. “You think I owe you?” The King snarls at Taylor, who instantly turns pale.

“N-no, I just mean-”

“You just mean I should allow subordinates to run rampant to assault and pillage like average thugs.”

“Sir it just seemed like you cared about the girl too much.”

“What I choose to care and not care about is none of your freaking business, but Dan was punished for lying to me,” The King leans in closer, “ I was feeling gracious, so he was given a slap on the wrist, next time I will cut out his tongue. But my kindness has expired.”

“King.” Desperation drips in the boy’s tone, but the King dismisses him with the flick of his wrist, and a man drags Taylor away.

“Step foot in my territory again, and you will be destroyed on sight.” The King continues walking forward as if he did not send someone to their death, but the gasp that escapes my lips makes him pause. “Dan?”

The handsy man behind me shifts, a grunt escaping his throat. Then a shot rang out, something sliced through the air, and Dan shrieked, falling to his knees. “I show you kindness, and this is how you repay me?” The King’s voice is deathly low as he approaches, and I dare not move. I dare not breathe.

“The call girl freaking deserves it.” A low rumble of laughter escapes the King, lowering himself over a bleeding Dan. He pushes the barrel of the gun into the wound in his shoulder.

“You are freaking mad, murdering innocents just because they won’t sleep with you?” The King pistol whips Dan into the floor, and a strangled sound fills the room. Dan spits onto the floor. “This is the thanks I get for letting you keep your life?”

“My King, she seduced me-” The King grips him by the collar dragging him close.

“You think it is wise to lie again?” Dan audibly swallows, a whimper escaping his lips. The King snaps his finger, and a buff, bald man with the word mercy over his knuckles comes up behind him.

“Yes, boss?”

“I want his tongue and right hand.” With a curt nod, the man grips Dan by his injured shoulder and drags him deeper into the VIP area. “I thought I told you not to come back in here.” The King looks in the direction of a weeping, sounding annoyed.

I slowly at the King from the corner of my eye, my mouth completely dry and my hands feverishly shaking. The scars on the King’s face glitter in the low lighting making my stomach twist, so I focus on the silver, twisted ring on his ring finger. It looks almost like tree branches gripping his skin.

“I-I left something here.”

“What?” His empty grey eyes lock on me.

“An earring.”

A short grunt leaves his lips, “You risked your life for an earring?”

“It’s sentimental.” I whisper, narrowing my eyes closer to the ring, recognizing the red ruby in the center of a rose, and I almost choke, drilling my eyes into his, “Sirius?!”

Chapter 5 An Unexpected Reunion
“Sirius?!” My heart is practically beating out of my chest. I can’t breathe, staring into his eyes, I know. I know it’s him. He turns to me a blank look on his face.

The silence in the room creeps over me, and I slowly look around the room. Every mafia member is staring at me, with tension in their necks, awaiting the command of their king. I almost believe I’ve misspoken as I watch the King’s jaw click. “Elise.”

“Oh my god!” I take a step back, looking him over. He looks just like he did in high school, but buffed up and toned, no longer lean and boyish. He’s a full man now.

“When I told you to stay away from here, I meant it. Earring or not.”

“These were…you cannot tell me what to do, Sirius.” He tilts his head to the side, looking me over. “You gave these to me…before you…”

“I know, earring or not. Do not come back up here. Stay away from the mafia.” His voice is ice-cold and distant. He starts to walk away from me, and I almost leap out of my skin following him.

“Do not speak to me like that, not after what you did. You abandoned me, and now you dismiss me.”

“We both know what really happened back then, don’t act like you don’t know. Do not make me into some villain.”

“No, but you are heartless. You leave without a word. You disappear, then you come back and ignore me as if we were nothing. As if you didn’t even—” My words get caught in my chest as if I am about to cry, but Sirius turns sharply towards me, heat rising in his eyes.

“Once. I had a heart once, but now when I tell you to do something, you listen, Elise, and that’s final.” Sirius speaks lowly in my face, his voice feathers over me. “Now leave.” My eyes cannot help but flicker at his lips, but I immediately take a step back when he licks them.

“No. Just because you say jump, d-does not mean I have to follow, Sirius.” I can hear the click of a gun, and Sirius doesn’t even move as he watches my actions. I raise my hands up and grit my teeth, “I guess you won’t even let me say thank you before murdering me, huh? ”

“Lower your weapons, no one is allowed to point a gun at her ever.” I put my hands down slowly, my anger and grief swirling into panic as he turns to leave again.

“If I mean so little to you, why are you still wearing your ring?” The branching ring with a single ruby was part of a promise ring set Sirius and I had brought when we were silly and in love. My ring is in my jewelry bag, hidden so Alston won’t find it and ask questions.

“For sentimental reasons. I engraved it with something to remind me of the past.” He looks down at the ring longingly before snapping his eyes to my hands. “Where is your ring?”

“I lost it years ago.” I don’t know why I lie or what I try to hide, but I know I can’t let him think anything can happen between us. He just nods sharply, not letting any emotions pass over his face.

A throat clears in the background, and the tension in the room deflates slightly at the fakely bubbly voice of Mr. Thompson. He stands between Sirius and me a sharp look in his eyes. “Is everything okay here?”

“Just a conversation,” Sirius responds evenly, his eyes not leaving mine.

Mr.Thompson gives an empty chuckle, “Ah yes, I had to have a conversation with this employee multiple times. She is lazy. She constantly elicits complaints for her promiscuity and irresponsible nature.” He turns to me, hard eyes in his eyes, raising his voice, “Elise, I told you one more time.”

“Mr.Thompson, this isn’t what it looks.” I begin, but he puts a hand in my face silencing me.

“No, no, the time has come Elise you have embarrassed yourself in front of the King. You have constantly caused problems. You are the most terrible waitress I have ever had the displeasure of managing--” Sirius clocks his gun, placing the barrel against the back of Mr.Thompson’s head and he freezes.

“No, no, continue your rant with a gun to your head.”

“Sir, I was just firing insubordinate who was causing you trouble.” Mr.Thompson raises his hands up shakily.

“Do you think of me as a damsel in need of saving, Thompson?”

“Absolutely not sir.”

“So why would I need you to come to my rescue?”

“Sir, she has been a terrible employee, and I think--”

“I do not care what you think. One more insult at her, and I am blowing your freaking brain across this room, understand?” Mr.Thompson nods slowly. “Good.” Sirius puts his gun away, and I can’t help but roll my eyes.

“Is this what you do all day? Threaten people’s lives?”

“No normally I am not protecting my ex-girlfriend.” Sirius tucks the gun in his waistband, shrugging at Elise. “Where even is he?”

“What are you talking about, Sirius?” He walks closer to me a teasing smile on his lips.

“Where is your boyfriend? Why is he not here to step in during every crisis, like I am?” Sirius stands a breath away from me, and from his tone, I can tell he is taunting me, that he wants a rise out of me. For a second, I want to smile at his boyish ways. His jealousy-fueled mockery reminds me of my Sirius.

“My relationship with Alston has nothing to do with you!” I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest. His eyes dip to my chest, but his eyes narrow, looking at me just as quickly.

“I thought you were dating my brother Lester?”

“No, he is like a brother to me.”

He chuckles. “It would destroy him to hear you say that.”

“Why would you think I was with Lester?”

“I never would have guessed Alston because he is such a good guy. Taking down major corporations, defending the little guy. I thought you liked your guys with a little edge to them.” Sirius shrugs, a carefree look in his eyes.

“You used to be a good guy.” Sirius flashes his million-dollar smile that makes my knees weaken.

“I was never a good guy, you just always saw the good in me.” Sirius’s voice is barely above a whisper, causing shivers down my spine. Alston was good. After Sirius went missing, Alston pursued me and when Lester was severely injured, Alston was the one who gathered most of the money for the medical expenses.

His good deeds made me fall for him. He was always saving the day, and knowing that he was my personal superhero made me feel secure, supported, and loved. Most importantly, I never felt like he would abandon me. “I agreed to be his girlfriend because he makes me feel safe, Sirius, physically and emotionally.”

Sirius’s eyes widen and the careless smile on his face fizzles out. I want to reach up and cup his face. I want to tell him that despite moving on he was my first, I have never been crazy, or foolish in love with anyone else. It’s only been him.

“Thompson, leave.” Sirius doesn’t break eye contact with me as Mr.Thompson scurries to leave, but before he can make his grand escape, “I want your office cleared out by the morning.”

“What?” Mr.Thompson slows, looking over his shoulder, shock across his face.

“Elise will be the new owner, effective in the morning.”

Simultaneously Mr.Thompson and I both look at Sirius as if he has lost his mind, screaming, “What? Why?”

“Because Alston is not the only person who can make you feel safe, Elise.”

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