Ruthless Mafia Daddy (Alpha Mafia Daddies)

What the hell am I doing? Why do I keep doing this to myself?

It’s been six weeks since I blocked Andre’s number, and every day since, the dance is the same. At random times of the day, I find myself looking at his contact, finger hovering over unblock.

The fact that that night still haunts my dreams and that he is still the dominant thought throughout the day makes me a pathetic person, right?

Who the hell falls in love with a guy she was with for less than twelve hours?

Woah! Falls in love? There is no love here. At all. This is an obsession. A crush.

Dear lord, I’m ready to be committed. There is no way this is normal.

How can this man affect me so much after such a short time we spent together?

Granted, it was the best sex of my life, and while I was in his bed, he made me feel things I had never felt before. Not just sexually, although, man, those orgasms were out of this world. But he also made me feel cherished and cared for.

Except now, he broke me. I’m no longer a rational, functional adult.

I’m no better than I was at fourteen when I had a crush on a senior at my high school because he smiled at me once in the cafeteria. I was obsessed until the day he graduated and left for college.

Did I consider following him to Stanford? Yes, I did.

Thankfully, Cassi was there to get some much-needed sense into my thick head.

Fuck. Maybe I could do with Cassi right now as my thumb, once again, hovers over unblock.

“Get a fucking grip, Lila.” I shut my phone off and put it down as I stand in front of my bathroom mirror. “You have bigger things to focus on.”

Like the purple bruises under my eyes, the grayish tint on my skin, the lack of color in my cheeks.Material © NôvelDrama.Org.

Food poisoning sucks. Granted I’ve been off work the last few days, but I had hoped that after getting a full eight hours last night, rather than waking every hour to chuck up my guts, I’d look at least a little better.

I was wrong.

I sigh as I start swiping concealer under my eyes. “Never. I repeat, never, buy sushi from a seven eleven again. You hear me, Lila Morano?”

Holy crap. I’m talking to myself. I’ve gone crazy. The batshit kind.

Pulling out my last clean work dress from my closet, I finish getting ready for work in a hurry.

I want to get in early before my boss does, to try and make up for the fact that I’ve been off sick the past four days. Granted, I’ve still kept up with as much as I could from home, but in my mind, it’s not enough. I worked hard for this promotion, I want to live up to the high standards I’ve set myself—food poisoning or not.

I will say, I was grateful for the distraction that being sick offered as it meant that I wasn’t as focused on Andre as I could have been. I mean, I still thought about him a lot, in between the puking marathons, but I was more of a lovesick puppy rather than a psycho stalker.

I haven’t dared google him again, too scared by what I might find. I want to keep the memory of him in the bar when he swept me off my feet as the one I think about, not the thought of him putting a gun to someone’s head and pulling the trigger.

My stomach churns again at the thought, but I ignore it.

I don’t have time to fix my makeup if I throw up again, so I force myself to think of neutral things, like what shoes I’m going to wear, to stop myself from spending the next hour hugging the toilet.

I swear, this is the longest bout of food poisoning I’ve ever experienced, but I think it’s just the universe’s way of trying to teach me a lesson. From now on, I will eat nothing but kale and chickpeas, and the occasional donut. And maybe pizza.

“Don’t think about food,” I groan, forcing a brush through my tangled mane. It really needs a wash but I haven’t had the energy to do my full hair care routine, so I’m opting for the slick back bun, which I hope makes me look chic and put together rather than dirty and ill.

Throwing a light sweater into my bag, along with my laptop and heels, I slip on my trainers and head out the door, breathing in the crisp morning air as I start walking toward the subway.

It’s barely seven in the morning, but the sun is up, and the air is still chill enough that I pull my sweater out of my bag, knowing that in a few weeks it’ll be too humid for anything other than shorts and a tank top.

I decide to give Cassi a call as I walk. Normally, we see each other multiple times a week, but with me being sick, we’ve barely caught up, and I miss her.

“Hey, stranger,” I say as Cassi answers the phone. “I’m surprised you actually answered. It’s too early for you to be up.”

“Never went to bed.”

I can’t help but laugh. “You’re crazy. Where are you now?”

“Walking down fifth. Fancy getting coffee before work?” Cassi works for a top marketing agency a few blocks over from my office, which makes it easy for us to grab a cocktail or two after a long day.

“Oh, I’d love to, but I need to head in early. Make up for all the time I’ve missed.”

“You’ve still been sick?”

“For like four days, it’s ridiculous. I don’t want Max to regret giving me this promotion⁠—”

“Lila, stop. You’re allowed to be sick. You’re not a robot. Give yourself a break already.”

I let out a long breath, my shoulders sagging as I start heading down the steps to the station.

“You know I don’t like taking time off.”

“Well, I don’t like you working yourself into the ground, so there is that too.”

I roll my eyes.

“I’m fine, honestly. Why don’t we grab dinner after work? I’ll make a reservation at Alessandro’s, my treat.”

“Seeing as you’re ditching me for work, you owe me,” Cassi mutters.

“How dare I go to my grown up job because my bills refuse to pay themselves.” I laugh.

“We wouldn’t be in this problem if you got yourself a sugar daddy. Oh, wait, you could’ve had one, you just chose self-respect instead.”

“You’re the worst.” I chuckle.

“You love me, really,” Cassi says. “See you tonight, Lils.”

Even though it’s barely seven in the morning, the subway car is packed, and with the heat radiating from all the bodies around me, I’m already sweating and feeling nauseous as I enter the office building twenty minutes later.

I discreetly dab my upper lip with a tissue as I cross the foyer, trying to slow my breathing so the redness in my cheeks will die down.

Max doesn’t normally arrive until eight, so I’m hoping to get a head start on emails before then.

I hope he doesn’t mention my sick days, but there’s nothing I can do apart from being honest. I’ve been with the company for three years, and these are the first sick days I’ve taken, so I’m hoping they’ll be brushed over.

As I wait for the elevator to take me up to the fifteenth floor, I decide to check my email. The email at the top of my inbox is from my boss, and the subject reads: urgent.

My heart stops as I click it open and scan the contents.

Meeting in my office at eight.

This can’t be good…

I’m a nervous wreck as I watch the clock, pacing around my office as each second ticks by.

This is it. Everything I’ve worked so hard for over the past three years is about to be ripped away from me. I’m going to lose my apartment, my insurance, my 401k.

“Oh god, I’m going to have to move back in with Auntie.” I let my head fall into my hands. That thought alone has my stomach twisting.

A soft knock comes from my open door, and I look up to see Max’s assistant, Ally, hovering.

“He’s ready for you.” She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

This has got to be a sign, right? A bad sign.

“Great,” I choke out, running my hands down my dress. “I’ll be right there.”

Ally offers an encouraging smile before disappearing from sight.

I quickly change out of my trainers, sliding into my black heels, and head down the corridor toward Max’s office.

My heart is pounding in my ears as I mentally rehearse answers to any possible questions he might throw at me.

“You’ve got this,” I whisper, bracing myself as I push open the door to Max’s office.

Only, it’s not Max sitting behind the large desk.

It’s Andre.