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Captive of My Mafia Crush Chapter 13

Chapter 13
Christian breaks our gaze first, clenching his jaw and glancing down at his phone. “I have work to do,” he murmurs, pushing off the counter and brushing past me, already dialing and lifting his phone to his ear as he walks through the door to his room.
“Come on, Bambi,” Frankie says after a long moment. He nods towards the couch, his voice kind. “Don’t overthink it. Do you like video games?”
“You don’t have to call me Bambi,” I murmur, following him over to the sofa, bringing my coffee with me. “My
name is Iris.”
“Oh, I know your name,” he says, giving me a grin as he hands me a paddle. “I just like Bambi better. Now, this game is very violent, but all you need to do is shoot the aliens in the head…”
About an hour later, I am no better at killing aliens. My heart starts to pound with relief and anxiety the moment Nico comes back through the door.
“Got it!” he shouts, my duffel held high in his fist as he strides over to the couch.
“Oh, thank go d,” I say, reaching for the bag.
“Not so fast,” Nico says, smirking at me and pulling it out of my reach. “Boss gets first dibs.”
“It’s my stuff,” I protest as Christian finally comes out of his bedroom, having heard Nico’s loud arrival.
“Give it here,” Christian says, taking the bag and walking it over to the other side of the L-shaped couch, far out of my reach. I click my tongue in protest, but I am universally ignored.
As I watch, Christin unzips my bag and begins to unpack it. The first thing to appear is my cell phone. I squeak eagerly, dying to see if Emi texted, but Christian immediately hands it to Nico.
“Password?” Nico says, glancing up at me.
“Private!” I snap, aghast.
Christian just glances up at me for a single moment, the expectation to be obeyed in every line of his serious.
face. “Tell him, Iris.”
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    I sigh and then list the four numbers. Christian pauses for a moment. “Your birthday?” he says, looking up at me with a dubious eyebrow raised.
    “I don’t live a complicated life!” I say defensively, sitting up straight. “I do not need high security passwords!”
    “You do now,” Frankie murmurs, turning the game console off and paying attention as Christian starts to take more stuff out of the bag.
    My clothes come first, and Nico goes over them with the metal detector. I roll my eyes, a little annoyed by the insane level of security here. I mean, seriously, I’m a student and a stripper – not some kind of super spy.
    When the clothes pass muster, Christian starts to pull out my books.
    The textbooks he passes over pretty quickly, though he raises an eyebrow at my subjects of study, either surprised or derisive. I wrap my hands around my elbows, anxious.
    When he gets to my notebooks, though, I lean forward in surprise. “That one,” I say, raising my chin a little towards the stack in his hand. “The one with the brown cover – that’s…not mine.”
    “It’s not?” he asks, glancing at the others.
    “No, I color code for my subjects-”
    They all look at me fast, and I can see another geek stripper joke forming on Frankie’s lips, so I just talk fast. “And brown is not a color that matches any of the subjects I’m studying, okay? That one is not mine.”
    Christian nods, opening the notebook and beginning to page through.
    It only takes a few seconds of page turning before everyone but me realizes that this is something…significant.
    Nico stands up straight, his eyes wide, a fluid stream of curses slipping from between his lips.
    Frankie just looks over at me, his eyes sweeping over me from top to bottom, scared or impressed – I can’t tell
    Christian lifts his eyes to mine, and I can see that he is entirely the Mafia King now – every piece of my childhood friend tucked away. He leans back in his chair and nods to Nico, passing the interrogation on to him.
    “You have this in your duffel,” Nico says quietly, “and you expect us to believe you know nothing about why
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    Chapter 13
    Bonetti wants you? And every other go d da mn mob boss on the eastern seaboard?”
    My eyebrows go wide and I sit stock straight. “What? Why? What is it?”
    “You’re pretending you don’t even know what this is!?”
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    “It must be Steven’s!” I protest, throwing a hand out. “I must have swiped it when I was gathering my notebooks – we only have one desk!”
    Christian studies me, his expression cold.
    My mind works fast.
    “Look,” I say, pointing towards my other notebooks. “Look at the other notebooks. I guarantee the handwriting doesn’t match-I swear I didn’t write a word in that one.”
    Christian takes my advice, flipping open the notebook for my marketing course. Nico leans over his shoulder and they compare the two.
    “Pencil’s smudged left to right,” Nico murmurs, pointing at Steven’s notebook, which holds who-knows-what. “Frequently happens in leftie bookkeeping.”
    “Iris is right-handed,” Christian murmurs. He sits up then, handing the notebook to Nico, who explores it further.
    “Just because you didn’t write it,” Nico says, looking at me over the notebook’s edge, “why should I believe you haven’t seen it?”
    “What!?” I gasp, leaning forward and staring between Nico and Christian, shocked again that they still don’t believe me. “I don’t know what it is! I wish I didn’t have it! That tiny notebook is ruining my life, if it’s as important as you say!”
    “Come on, Chris,” Nico says, turning to Christian and speaking to him alone now. “This girl is full of sh it – if we buy this story we deserve whatever’s coming for us!”
    My mouth pops open, a loud huff of protest slipping from my lips.
    “She’s in this big time, of course she’s lying her as s off!” Nico insists, gesturing vehemently at the notebook. “Plus, she’s a stripper – they know how to lie to people, it’s their job, how they get paid-every single girl in that club could pass a polygraph in a second-”
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    “Enough,” Christian snarls, his word low enough that Nico scowls and folds his arms over his chest. Both of them turn their attention to me, glaring.
    “Christian,” I say, locking eyes with him, tears in my own. “I am not lying to you – I have nothing to do with this. Whatever’s in your head – that I’m some kind of spy? Remember what you know about me. You know that I would never do that. Especially…” I bite my lip now, shaking my head at him, “especially not to you.”
    Nico studies me for a long moment like I’m some kind of puzzle he can solve, but Christian is unreadable. I just stare back at him, my jaw clenched, wondering what kind of awful things must have happened in his life if he doesn’t even trust me anymore.
    Me – the last person in the world that would ever hurt or betray him.
    But as I stare at him, I consider that maybe he has been through something so harrowing that he doesn’t trust anyone in the world anymore.
    – And I think it’s that that does it – the pity on my face at the idea that Christian has no onethat convinces him that I just might be telling the truth.
    – His face goes hard and angry, maybe even a little embarrassed to have methe homeless stripper, his helpless. captive – pity him.
    “All right,” he says, glaring at me and then glancing up at Nico before he gets to his feet. “I’m heading out – I’m doing recon on this all go d dam n day.”
    Nico nods, tucking the notebook under his arm and moving after Christian as he starts to cross the room. But to all of our surprise, Christian turns and puts a hand on Nico’s chest. “No,” he says, shaking his head at him.
    “You’re staying here.”
    “What!?” Nico gasps. “You’re taking Frankie!? I’m babysitting!?”
    “You’re both babysitting,” Christian snaps, turning to glare at Frankie too.
    “Christian, you can’t go out alone,” Nico protests. “Please, I’ll help!
    “Bruno and Silvester are already downstairs,” Christian says, heading towards the kitchen. “Your top priority is
    Sing that book for details and making sure that absolutely nothing happens to Iris while I’m gone.”
    My heart swells a little when he says that, because…if he’s still worrying about protecting me? Maybe that
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    means that even a small part of him trusts me.
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    Christian grabs an Ipad off of the kitchen counter and walks over, handing it to me over the back of the couch. “Order yourself come clothes, rush the shipping – have it delivered today or tomorrow, if you can.”
    I stare at him in surprise, but my fingers fold around the tablet.
    “No email
    “No email, phone calls, or texts,” he says, narrowing his eye. My heart sinks and he must see it on my face. “Actually…just, don’t do anything at all without running it by Nico. He’s in charge.”
    “Nico?” I ask, hesitant, glancing over at the black-haired young man who glares at me with his arms crossed. “Not Frankie?”
    Christian, despite himself, can’t help his smirk as he shakes his head. “Not Frankie.”
    I sigh, but nod, and he looks around at all of us before he strides for the door. “I have my phone!”
    And just like that, I’m alone with two mobsters I’ve barely known for twelve hours.
    “Want to shoot more aliens?” Frankie asks, offering me the game controller as Nico slumps back on the couch.
    But neither of them are fast enough to catch me when I leap over the back of the couch and streak for the door, shouting Christian’s name.

Captive of My Mafia Crush Novel by Aurora Starling

Captive of My Mafia Crush Novel by Aurora Starling

Status: Ongoing Author: Artist:
Iris, still a college student, became a stripper to help her boyfriend, only to find out he had sold her to the mob. Worse yet, Iris was kidnapped by the most ruthless mafia king, for reasons unknown. She pleads for her life, only to be shocked when she discovers that her captor is her brother’s best friend, and also her childhood crush… He: My little one, I will never take my eyes off you.


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