The Mafia Boss

Ch. 6: Do not provoke me.

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***

By morning, I'm the topic of everyone's conversation. On numerous occasions, I've caught people glaring and having what is clearly detailed conversations about me. It's hard biting my tongue, but I keep reminding myself that everyone knows who I am and what my association with Shane is. Given what he's doing, their scepticism is justifiable. They don't trust me, and I get that. It's going to take more than a day for these people to warm up to me.

"Mamma!" Maeve comes rushing over in her new winter dress and snow boots. "Can me and Katalina play by the flowers?"

After my comment to Torin regarding Maeve's lack of clothing, he had an entire wardrobe's worth of clothes, shoes and essentials sent up. He even has an array of toys delivered which—in all honesty—was far too much. I've had to hide most of them from her because I know my kid and being given a load like that will overstimulate her for sure. Torin couldn't have known this, and I don't hold it against him. I do—however—resent him for making me sort-of like him again. Living here is like being in a constant state of whiplash. One minute, I fucking hate his guts and the next, I like him again.

"Hmm." I pretend to speculate.

"Pleeeeease!"

I'm outside on the decking, enjoying the last of today's sun.

"Okay, but don't go far," I warn.

I'll be getting dark soon, and I want her in for a bath.

"Imogen!"

Torin's arrival interrupts the last of my peace. He inserts himself into my personal space, devastatingly beautiful dressed in all black.

"We've been invited to a party," he informs. "Tonight."

"What?"

My head is spinning.

"The O'Neil's are hosting."

"Why am I invited?" I ask.

Just yesterday he was demanding I keep mine and Maeve's existence a secret.

"You're not. You're my plus one."

I narrow my gaze, suspicious of his difference in behaviour. "You've changed your tune. You hated me twenty-four hours ago."

"To be clear, I still hate you."

Ouch!

"But you have your uses."

The penny drops.

"I'm a power play?"

He smirks.

"No, thanks. I think I'll give it a miss."

"What?"

"Parties aren't really my thing," I explain, happy to see his confidence disappear.

I hate how he thinks he can dictate my every move.

"Imogen, don't fucking annoy me."

"Torin—in the nicest way possible—fuck off!"

A few women nearby glance our way.

"You can't treat me and our daughter like shit and expect me to do you favours. That's not how things work."

"Isn't it?"