My Tragic Mafia Life | ✔️

33

Josephine sneered at him behind Dante's back, long enough to catch his eye, and when Dante turned, she misted the disgust away. Though Dante had kept his focus on her.She knew that she shouldn't have met his eyes, challenged his stance, but she couldn't help herself. It was like peering into a monster molded of wraith and pain. Grief, she corrected herself. He was only full of grief.

"I promise to be respectful," She said with no tone of taunt. The dead were to be respected, and honored. Especially in murder. Josephine was a fiend, but not one without manners.

"I don't care," Dante said, and for a moment she wished that he did. But rather, maybe he remembered their deal, her plea for survival, because those hateful eyes dimed just an inch and shut in frustration. Then he snapped them open. At Camillo. "One mistake and I'll throw her out."

Camillo smiled. "Well, I'll make sure to keep that in mind." Beatriz flashed him a look full of silence and storm, but Lucia snarled in warning, and it was dropped.

Josephine felt her arm being clasped by someone behind. Turning, she saw a worried Isla who steered her towards her side in warm affection. "She'll be walking with us." She informed Camillo.

Camillo's disgust emerged out of thin air, and he shifted to the side to direct his look to anything but her. The sight of it was a knife to Isla's heart. Whatever unspoken loyalties there were between them, Isla had ripped it apart herself. No one could blame Camillo for seeing her worthless in his eyes.

Valentina said the unspoken words out loud. "As long as this alliance lasts, we'll be nice. And you can walk with Josephine, but don't expect us to be friends."

Isla gulped, shame rattling her senses. Josephine could only watch as unknown history unfolded between them. And a quiet, but not unnoticed, longing gaze from one of the twins. Or both.

Camillo had already started walking away with an icy Dante by his side. So strange, surreal. Neither side enjoyed each other, but were strung along by one thing: death. And in death, came sorrow, but for these mobsters, death meant alliance. Josephine moved forwards to join them.

From behind, Houston grabbed Josephine's collar like a puppy and flung her back. She was inches off the ground, thinking of snapped arms and broken legs. "Where do you think you're going?" He said when she began to squirm in his grip. "I don't see a sale at Victoria's Secret here, so you can just calm down."

"Houston, let her go." Protested Isla from the side, tugging at the leather he wore. Her usual lovely green hair was twisted into one long braid nestled against her shoulder. She was a meddler, thought Josephine. Almost like a mother, cocooning everyone and everything. And, well, there was Houston to ruin everything else.

He dropped Josephine with a meager shrug, and Josephine jerked her head with untamable anger. Unable to reply from the fear of aggression, she began readjusting her clothes. She had not forgotten those nights alone. Josephine picked at the fabric. She could be fine with a bit of sludge on her shoes, and a push or shove from Houston, but a wrinkled coat would set her on fire.

"What do you want?" asked Josephine. Isla's eyes winced unexpectedly. Did she imagine her to say something sweeter after their last words? Josephine glanced at the couple, one bothersome and the other worrisome. But their company couldn't have been too bad. If Dante was here... she didn't want to finish that thought.

Houston crossed his arms. "Listen up, princess. You're stuck with us. And I don't know what that womanizer was thinking, but first dates at a crime scene aren't the best choice."

So Camillo's plan was transparent. Perfect. "And what do you recommend?"

"Long walks on the beach? I guess I'm really missing out on a lot of girls if this is considered top-notch material for Camillo. I bet one look at the corpse and the ladies just start opening their legs."