Indebted to the Mafia King

*Heidi*

Going after Cal was a mistake. I knew it would be, but I still did it anyway.

What was I thinking? What was I even expecting to happen? That if I came and asked him to drop his entire life and career for me and he'd do it?

Ha! What a joke.

Even if I mean as much to him as he says I do, giving up something you've been building your whole life is hard. I should know better than that. I wouldn't give up on my life and dreams either if he asked me to. So, why am I feeling so heartbroken? Why do I feel so sad, so left out?

I storm out of his office with tears blurring my vision. His scent is all over me, and my lips are still tingling from our kisses. No matter how much I want to turn back and run into his arms, I know I can't do it.

This is it. This was the last straw, the confirmation I needed that we're indeed over.

For good.

"Miss Heidi, is everything okay?" someone asked from behind me as I walked out of the bar.

It was rude on my part to ignore whoever it was, but I couldn't stop to talk to anyone at the moment. I needed to get as far away as possible from that place. And from Cal.

The cold wind slaps my face as I walk down the sidewalk, my gaze falling on what used to be my bookstore and my apartment not more than a month ago on the other side of the street. My life has changed so much in such a short amount of time that it scares me. Sadness overwhelms me, and for a second, I don't know what to do.

I have no one to talk to.

And even if I did, it's not like I could just come and say that I'm breaking up with the guy I love because I just found out he is the head of a mafia syndicate, and his life is constantly spent in danger, consequentially putting me and my grandparents in danger, too.

I decide to walk home, taking the time to distract myself and my wandering mind. On the way, I watch people passing by me, too occupied with their own lives to worry about a girl bawling her eyes out, mascara running down her cheeks in the middle of the street. My heart feels like it's shrinking inside my chest. How has someone I met less than two months ago become such an important part of my life so quickly? How could I allow Cal to take such a huge place in my heart like that?

I should have been more careful.

I should have known he was trouble.

I should have trusted my instincts.

I reach my building a few minutes later, and the doorman, an older gentleman with gray hair and the kindest face I've ever seen, widens his eyes as he takes in my state. "Miss Sullivan, are you okay? Did something happen?" he asks, standing from his usual seat and coming to check on me.

I nod, offering him a soft smile. "I'm all right, Mr. Thompson. Just life hitting me in the face, I guess." I chuckle.

His eyes soften as he pats me on the shoulder. "It can be hard sometimes, yes. Just keep on moving. It will eventually get better, I'm sure of it." His words comfort me a little. It feels nice to feel cared for. Mr. Thompson has been thoughtful and polite to me ever since I moved into the building, and I could tell from the first day that he is a man with a golden heart.

"Thank you. I'm hopeful it will."

He nods at me, encouraging me to continue on my way. "I'll be here if you need anything. Have a great rest of your day, Miss Sullivan."

If you're loving the book, nel5s.com is where the adventure continues. Join us for the complete experience all for free. The next chapter is eagerly waiting for you!

I thank him and continue on my way. As soon as I get inside my apartment, I realize I can't live here anymore. This place is being paid by Cal, and even though I told him I'd pay him back once I am back on my feet, I don't want to owe him anything. Now, besides looking for a place to reopen the bookstore, I also need to look for a new apartment that I can afford.

In New York City, that will be easy peasy.

As if...

"Oh, God," I lament, grabbing my laptop from the coffee table and flopping on the couch. The rays of sunlight beam through the windows, and I instantly feel its warmth on my skin. I hadn't realized how nice this place is until now. Now that I have to let it go. I suddenly don't feel ready to get out of here.

Opening my laptop, I find the real estate websites I was looking at before and start a new search with different filters. Even though I was ready to finally get the bookstore back on track, finding a new apartment is my priority now.

I check the boxes where I can get results for small apartments, close to the neighborhood I'm already in, and preferably one that doesn't cost me an arm and a leg each month.

Nothing nice shows up. Not unless I want to live in an alley where I know for a fact I'll be kidnapped or murdered.

Thirty minutes pass, and I still haven't gotten anywhere. I get up and head to the kitchen, pouring myself a cup of coffee to stay awake. This will take me the whole night, and after crying so hard and getting a headache as a result, I'll probably fall asleep on top of my computer.

Returning to it, an intrusive thought suddenly crosses my mind, and my fingers hesitate on the keyboard. Before I know it, I'm typing the word 'mafia' into the Google search bar. Nothing nice comes up, of course. I scroll down the first page, but nothing I see catches my attention or gives me the answers I'm looking for.

Cal told me he was the leader of the Irish Kings. That'd probably narrow down my research, so I type the term on the bar and press enter. A couple of articles from New York papers appear on the top of the list, both addressing rumors of a cargo ship being tracked and opened by the FBI last year containing drugs and slot machines. Sources linked the Irish mob to it, but nothing was proved, nor was anyone arrested. Eventually, the issue was dropped and forgotten.noveldrama

I huff, still not satisfied. I type 'Cal Duncan' next but hesitate to press'search this time, afraid of what I might find. With a deep breath, I close my eyes and do it, slowly opening them back to see the list of results.

The name of his bar is the first thing that appears. There's a social media page, where it only addresses him as the owner, but other than that, no other information is provided.

I go back to the Google page and scroll down, but just like the previous terms I searched, I don't see anything important or anything that links him to the mafia or the syndicate he mentioned. They must be really careful-as every crime family should be- so as not to let any information leak. It frustrates me, but I guess not being traceable might be a good thing. For him, that is.

Leaning back on the couch, I let out a tired sigh, staring at the ceiling while my brain works at its full capacity on everything that's happened in the last forty-eight hours.

Giving up on looking for places, I push the laptop aside and head for my bathroom, ready to spoil myself with a hot shower. I need to release the tension in my muscles and get rid of Cal's scent that's still all over my skin. It is not helping me focus at all.

As much as it kills me to know this might be the last time I get to smell his cologne, I need to force myself to move on with my life. To get over him and all the craziness we experienced together and focus on myself and my career-which right now is pretty much non-existent. I'm not a very ambitious person, so I don't have big dreams when it comes to my professional life. I guess living in a busy, crazy city like New York has made me want to go the opposite way of everyone else. I want the simplest things life can offer me-a cozy home, a satisfying job, and to be surrounded by the people I love- people who love me in return.

At the moment, I don't have any of it.

My home is not mine. I have no idea when I might be able to get back to work, and

the people I love are either living far away from me or leading a criminal enterprise I don't want to be a part of.

This has to change-and soon.

I won't allow myself to fall into a black hole of depression. I'll get back on my feet and

forget Cal Duncan ever walked into my life and turned it upside down.

One way or another.