He Chose the Mafia Princess, So I Chose Her Father Chapter 03
Roman found me outside the auditorium.
He caught my arm before I reached the stairs.
“Who gave you that mark?”
His fingers hovered near my neck.
I slapped his hand away.
“Your fiancée is ten feet behind you.”
“Answer me.”
The jealousy in his voice was almost funny.
Yesterday, it would have broken me.
Today, all I could think about was Corrado’s hands and
the way Roman had bowed to him.
“You don’t get to ask.”
“I made a public decision. That doesn’t erase what we had.”
“You announced an engagement while I was still your girlfriend.”
He glanced toward the doors to make sure Arianna had not followed.
That small movement told me everything.
“Keep your voice down.”
“Still hiding me?”
“The marriage is business. Once the alliance is secure,
we can work something out.”
I stared at him.
“Something out.”
“An apartment. Money. Whatever you need.”
He truly believed I would accept.
Roman had not left me because he stopped wanting me. He had left because he believed he could marry
power and keep me as a private convenience.
“I would rather sleep under a bridge.”
His face hardened.
“Don’t be dramatic. And don’t tell Arianna about us. If
you embarrass her, the Carbone family will crush you before I can help.”
“You mean before you decide whether helping me is useful.”
My phone rang.
I pulled away and answered.
“Is this Tessa Ward?” a woman asked. “Your mother
collapsed at work. She’s at St. Catherine’s Hospital.”
Everything else disappeared.
The doctor showed me the scans two hours later.
Cancer.
Aggressive, but treatable if we started immediately.
The deposit alone was more than I earned in a year.
My mother woke near sunset.
“Don’t make that face,” Rose whispered. “You look
like someone died.”
I held her hand and lied.
“You’re going to be fine.”
She believed me because mothers sometimes had to
believe their daughters.
I found a second job two days later at the Black Orchid,
a private lounge inside the Palazzo Carbone,
The money was good. The tips were better. I did not
know whether Corrado spent time there, and I told
myself it did not matter.
I worked late classes, early hospital visits, and night.
shifts until the days blurred together.
Vince, the lounge manager, noticed how badly I needed the job.
At first, he stared.
Then his hand began to stay too long at my waist when he passed behind me.
On Friday night, he followed me into the liquor
storeroom and locked the door.
“You could make more than tips,” he said.
“Move.”
He smiled.
“You don’t want to speak to your boss that way.”
His hand closed around my wrist.
I twisted free, but he blocked the door.
“I said move.”
“And I said you should be nicer. I know about the hospital bills.”
He shoved me against a shelf. Bottles rattled above my head.
“One night with me, and I’ll double your shifts.”
“Take your hands off her.”
Vince went pale.
Corrado stood in the open doorway.
He was not looking at me.
He was looking at Vince’s hand on my waist.
“Boss,” Vince stammered. “This isn’t what it looks like.”
Corrado removed his watch and handed it to the man behind him.
“Then explain it before I break every finger touching her.”