Indebted to the Mafia King

Tony

Chloe's sweet scent hits my nostrils before I even open my eyes. Having her sleep in my bed again feels like a dream. I stretch my hand to her side, hoping to find her and pull her into my arms, but all I find is emptiness, the sheets already cold from her absence.

I snap my eyes open and sit up straight, looking around the room, looking for her. But she's nowhere in sight. She's not in the bathroom, either.

Fear threatens to consume me before I pull myself together.

There's no way anything happened to her inside the house. I have my men stationed outside and I'd have woken up if anyone burst in. But it doesn't sit well with me that I can't hear or see her anywhere, so I jump out of bed and head for Ellie's room, hoping to find them there.

But the place is also empty.

My heart is beating rapidly against my chest as I move through the house searching for them. I let out a sigh of relief when I find a note written on an orange post-it saying they went out to meet with Eleni and some of the other wives before Eleni has to return to Greece. Chloe wrote that she didn't want to wake me up, so she thought she'd leave a note to assure me everything was fine.

I don't like the fact that she managed to leave the house-my bed even-without me seeing it. I must have been really tired so as not to see her getting up or even hear her leaving with Ellie.

After sending her a text message and making sure Rocco has eyes on Chloe the entire time she's out, I head for the shower. I get ready for the day, receiving updates every five minutes from my men handling several business deals taking place this morning. I have nothing but black coffee and a cold pancake Chloe prepared for me before she left, and by the time I leave the house, it's almost noon.

I climb into my car and drive toward Lou's Deli, hoping to get some actual work done. I have so much paperwork on my desk that it's been driving me nuts for the past few days. With everything going on lately, I haven't had the time, patience, or mind to focus on them.

Lou is cleaning the counter when I walk in, and after greeting him with a nod, I go straight downstairs to my office. There's no sign of his staff around the establishment yet, only some of my men hanging around here and there, waiting for some orders from me.

Since I haven't been as active as I'd like, there isn't much happening, so I can't really blame them for not having shit to do.

I dive into my paperwork right away, instantly getting a headache when the numbers stop making sense to me. Math and finance can be a pain in the ass sometimes. I rub my temples, trying to shove away the pain, and my eyes dart to the bottle of whiskey sitting on the bar at the corner of the room.

But I shake my head. It's not even past lunch time yet, and I haven't put actual food in my stomach today. I need to stop these shitty habits, especially now that I am a father.

That reminds me of the conversation I'm postponing with Chloe. Her excuses for not telling me about Ellie before didn't sit well with me, but I wasn't in the right mood or mindset to discuss it with her. I knew I'd say something stupid that would end up hurting her feelings, so I simply left the house to clear my head.

But then everything else happened after that, one thing leading to the other, and I couldn't believe it when I finally had her to myself again. I guess I'm dreading having that conversation with her.

And by the way she's been tense around me lately, I can tell she expects me to drop this bomb on her lap at any time. But at some point, we will have to address that. There is no way we can let this go and pretend it didn't happen. Sure, we have a lot of shit to deal with right now, but how am I supposed to put past me that she kept my daughter from me for almost two years?

I don't want to resent her, so she will have to talk to me about it eventually.

A muffled commotion coming from upstairs catches my attention, pulling my eyes away from the paper in my hand and toward the closed door of my office.

When I hear the sound of glass breaking, I get to my feet, my hand instantly snapping to the gun holstered in my waist.

"Armando? What is going on?" I ask as I carefully approach the door.

If someone barged in, I need to be careful. But when I don't hear an answer, I open the door in a swift movement and head out, not meeting a single soul down here.

Realizing whatever the issue may be, it's happening upstairs, I dart up the steps, coming across Armando handing a towel to Lou who has a split lip and a black eye. Some glasses are shattered on the floor around them, but other than that, the deli looks exactly the same as it did a few minutes ago.

I look around once more though, making sure no one else is in danger or lurking behind a column or something.

"What the fuck happened?" I demand bitterly when I'm certain the place is clear.

"Some motherfucker tried to rob me," Lou tells me, hissing as he touches the wound on his lip with the towel.

I immediately frown, my skin crawling. No one would dare to rob Lou. Every sane person in the area knows this place is protected by the Saints. If anyone would try something as stupid as this, it's definitely an enemy of mine, not a random teenager hoping for some cash for the ferry.

And I'm pretty damn sure I know who it is.

"What did they look like?" I growl, drawing my gun from my belt, already feeling the taste of blood in my mouth.

"He had a Yankees shirt and a black cap on. I didn't see his face clearly though..." Lou shakes his head and gestures to his left. "He went that way."

I storm out of the deli, heading for the alley where he pointed. I think I spot the man turning the corner, but when I dart after him, two other guys jump from out of nowhere, ambushing me.

Fuck.

I don't recognize any of them, but by the way they are dressed, I can tell they are from Miami.

I don't wait for them to make a move or say anything, I just point my gun at one of them-the one closest to me-and pull the trigger. But my pistol jams, failing me, and I clench my teeth, knowing I'll be fucked up soon. There is no way I can wrestle with these guys without one of them shooting me first. I'm not close enough to fight any of them either, so even if I chose one, I would be hit first by the one who's left.

The young man standing furthest from me, and closer to the deli, chuckles darkly, looking at me like I'm a fucking puppy lost from its mother.

"We could just kill him right now. I never thought it could be this easy," he suggests, narrowing eyes at me. "Isn't he the head of the Saints?"

"He wants the woman, not this guy," the other one replies bluntly. He seems to be the more serious and centered amongst them, and I assume he might be the leader, or at least the one in charge here.

"We can at least hurt him a little. The woman is clearly not here," the first guy says, pointing his gun at me. I doubt his will fail when he tries to kill me.

I wonder where the guy that beat Lou went, but right now, he is the least of my concerns.

"Just tell your fucking boss he won't get anywhere near her," I snarl, my fists tightened beside me.

The two men laugh, making me see red. A loud sound of gunshot deafens me, and I feel a sting on my left arm. I look down, realizing the fucking bastard shot me, missing the muscle by an inch, the bullet having grazed only my skin. It stings like hell, but at least he didn't hit any organs.

Yet.

That's when I hear more gunshots echoing through the alley, and the men lower their heads, protecting them with their arms. I take the opportunity to dodge to my right, hiding behind a metal dumpster.

"What the fuck?" one of them mumbles, already walking backward toward the main street.

I spot Armando coming out of the deli with his gun in hand, but by the time he gets outside, the two bastards are already gone.

Shit, shit, shit!

"Are you all right, Boss?" Armando asks, coming toward me with an angry expression on his face. "I didn't know they had gotten to you. Sorry I got here so late." His eyes snap to my arm, noticing the huge stain of blood on my sleeve. "Fuck, man! You were hit?"

"My gun misfired," I grumble, pressing a hand to my wound so it doesn't bleed as much anymore. For a single scratch, it hurts like fuck.

"Jesus, man. Let's get out of here and have that taken care of," he says, looking around and making sure no one will surprise us again. "I am fine," I say begrudgingly, following him inside the deli. "Call Chloe," I order.