The Mafia Boss

Ch. 16: What do you want? I'll do it.

I wake up to the Netflix logo staring back at me from the TV screen. I'm still in my towel from last night and my hair—unbrushed—resembles a lion's mane. I begrudgingly force myself out of bed and catch sight of Maeve and Torin star fishing majority of the mattress. No wonder I woke up at the crack of dawn. Being bullied out of my own bed by my daughter and her dad was not what I had in mind for today, but I'd be lying if I said the sight doesn't warm my heart. When Maeve was born, I never allowed myself the pleasure to fantasise about things like this. Torin was gone and part of me was gone with him. I never entertained the idea of finding love elsewhere. But I watched movies and I've always mourned that part of my life. The part that was taken away from me the night my brother decided to go on a killing spree.

Thoughts of Shane suddenly plague my mind and—to escape it—I head into the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face. My reflection is bleak; soulless eyes and a smile too strained to be considered authentic. I don't know what the fuck happened last night, but between sucking Torin's cock and us deciding to stop, the atmosphere has changed. I can't quite put my finger on it, but it's unnerving. Unsettling.

It's... nice.

But I've learnt not to let nice things distract me. Torin is marrying Eva next month and even though I have no idea where that puts me, I certainly know where is doesn't put me. Then—of course—there's the matter of Frank O'Neil and his proposition. Torin said he would handle it, but if it boils down to it, I'll do what I need to do to prevent Maeve from having to marry Aidan.

Even if I have to marry him myself.

I walk back into the bedroom, silently smiling at Maeve's new position. Her hand is on Torin's face and if she moves it even by an inch, Torin will have a very delightful experience of having someone else's finger up his nose. The pair of them snore, looking so much alike. Maeve most certainly inherited Torin's looks and—on occasion—his temper. Her nose—she got from me—and sometimes she reminds me of my father when she crunches it up.

I miss him.

Patrick Murphy might've been a cold-blooded mafia boss, but he was my dad. My protector. And without him, I feel lost. Torin stirs and, as suspected, receives a finger up the nose. Still, it doesn't wake him. Instead, he wraps his arms around Maeve's waist and cuddles into her. I watch them for a while, content on staying here for the rest of my life if it means never having to experience anything other than the peace filling my mind right now. But I can feel myself slipping. Falling, even. Thoughts of what ifs and dangerous fantasies start to emerge and that's my cue to get the fuck out. I head towards the kitchen, hoping to get some breakfast before I go in search of Olivia. Katalina is back and safe, but that doesn't make the ordeal any less traumatic. I can't image what I'd do if someone were to take Maeve away from me.

"Imogen?"

Nicole—the therapist—flags me down just a few feet away from the promise of food.

"Can we talk?"

Normally, I'd prioritise food before mafia business, but something about the way she looks at me has me following her, no questions asked. I don't know Nicole very well, but I know that look. She's troubled. Disturbed, even. And something in me wants to know exactly what or who has made her feel like that.

"What's wrong?" I ask, entering her therapy room and closing the door behind me.

Her boyfriend—Hunter, I think—is waiting for us.

"Last night—while Olivia was out—we took care of Katalina."

Hunter steps forward and rests a comforting hand on Nicole's shoulder. "Take your time, babe."