Indebted to the Mafia King

*Heidi*

It's past 9:00 PM. and the sky is fully dark outside by the time Cal returns home. After finding his closet packed with guns, there was nothing else I could do other than sit on his couch and wait for him to return to ask what the fuck he's got all those weapons for.

I pondered the sitution for so long, my brain working overtime, convincing myself that I should give him the benefit of the doubt. I can't believe that he would do anything to harm me. Even if that meant keeping things like this from me.

The entire afternoon, I tried to think of reasons why he would need to have guns inside his home. He's a businessman after all. He might have... unruly patrons at the bar? But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't come up with an explanation as to why he would need an entire wall of weapons that look like something out of a gangster movie.

That's why I'm still here when he returns. In the morning, my original plan was to surprise him, to have a romantic dinner prepared for when he got home, and then we could have a movie night like he mentioned earlier today. But now, all I can think about is confronting him.

"Hey, you're still here," Cal muses as soon as he opens the door and finds me planted on the couch-in the same spot I've been for the last couple of hours.He looks tired, but the way his face lights up when he sees me has my heart jumping in my chest, betraying my mind. I need to focus so I can ask him the questions I need to know the answers to.

"I wanted to ask you about something, but even after pondering it for the whole day, I'm still not sure I want to hear the answer," I start coldly, looking away from him. My eyes are now focused on the wall in front of me, my arms folded across my chest.

"Sure, what is it? Did something happen?" he asks, his tone curious but also concerned.

"Yes, something happened," I say through gritted teeth, finally turning back to look at him. It's clear that he has picked up from my serious expression and my cold voice that I'm mad.

Cal straightens up, removing his jacket and hanging it on the back of a chair. "What is it, Heidi?" he presses, his tone lowering.

"I didn't mean to pry. I hope you know that. I was trying to find something to wear..."

I explain, and a glimpse of darkness crosses his gaze as he stares back at me.

He knows I saw it.

By the way his jaw is clenching, his fist tightening beside him, he knows.

"Why the fuck do you have so many guns in your apartment?" I finally blurt out, my voice so distant and cold that I don't even recognize it myself.

He flinches at my accusation, but it's so quick that I wonder if I have imagined it.

"Why would you even need one?" I press, desperation getting the best of me.

Who did I get myself involved with? Who even is this man in front of me?

"I can explain all that," is the only thing that comes out of his mouth.

He sounds calm and firm, although I can see there's a spark of anxiety in his eyes. But Cal doesn't budge. He doesn't lose control of his emotions like I have. He's as composed as a person can be. I imagine that must come with the job. Whatever it is that he does.

"Go ahead then. Just don't try to lie to me or make a fool out of me because I won't fall for that, Cal," I warn him firmly. "I might be young and innocent, but I'm not stupid."

"I never thought you were," he tells me, taking a step toward me.

"Stay where you are," I grunt, holding my hand in front of me so he knows I mean it.

I can't have him coming near me now. No matter how mad and confused I am, having him near me won't do me any good. I'm sure he will be able to convince me of anything he says if I get a whiff of his intoxicating scent or feel his warmth near me.

"I own a bar in Manhattan," Cal begins, stating the obvious. I fight the urge to roll my eyes. "Things can get dirty sometimes when you run a business like that."

I frown, narrowing my eyes at him. "How dirty? Wouldn't just one gun solve whatever problems you're referring to? Do you need a whole arsenal?" I bite back.

"I'm responsible for the lives of everyone that works for me. My men need to protect themselves as well, not to mention their families," he proceeds to explain. "We don't use them as frequently as you might think, Heidi. In fact, if you think about it, I have them all up here, hidden, in case we someday need them. We're not walking around, carrying them with us every day."

It makes sense, but something still doesn't sit well with me. "It's a lot of weapons, Cal," I note. "Do you expect me to believe you need all of that for protection? What are you guys protecting yourselves from? The army?"

He swallows hard, looking away from me and runs a hand through his hair. For a minute, it feels like he's losing the grip on his patience and self-control. But when he looks at me again, he has the same stoic expression on his face."I know it's hard for you to believe me, but can you trust me on this?" he pleads, his eyes turning softer as he walks toward me.

It's like he's casting spells on me, his gaze keeping me trapped on the couch. A chill runs down my spine as his cologne hits me, as strong as when he left this morning. My brain is clouded, making it hard for me to think clearly.  What was it that I was arguing with him about? Why did it feel like I needed to confront him in the first place?

Ah... the guns!

"How can I trust you when you have all those weapons inside your closet, and you never once mentioned them to me? I don't know what to believe, Cal. What do you expect me to do?" I ask. "I don't know who you are."

He looks offended for a second, which almost makes me regret my words. "I'm the same guy you've been hanging out with for days," he replies calmly, his voice suddenly softer and kinder. "The same guy who you spent New Year's Eve with. The same guy who you went on a date with, who helped you during a hard time. The same guy who held you when you fell asleep last night. I'm that guy, Heidi. Isn't that enough?"

Is it?

It should be.

Cal has done nothing but make me think he's a good guy. I should trust him. He never did anything to make me believe otherwise. Sure, the guns are suspicious as hell. But I also know how hard it is to run a business in New York. Especially a bar like his. He must have all sorts of shady clients. So, is it too absurd to think he might need to protect himself every once in a while?

And he's right-he is responsible for everyone that works for him.

Also, the way he's looking at me right now is making it hard for me to think of reasons why I should leave his apartment and never return.

Cal approaches me, his eyes lowering to my exposed thighs, and then his gaze shifts to something more feral, hungry. "Is that my shirt?" he asks, his voice now low and hoarse, his eyes narrowing on my thighs.

"Yes. I was trying to find something clean to wear after my shower," I explain, still a bit sour. "Like I said, I didn't mean to pry."

"I know you didn't," Call admits, his fingers slowly tracing a trail up my legs. Butterflies flutter in my stomach as I realize how close he is to making me forget about everything we just discussed.

An alarm goes off inside my head, but I can't find it in me to pay attention to it rightnoveldrama

now.

"You have no idea how happy I was when I found you here after returning home from a hard day of work," he muses to me, his voice enveloping me as if I'm a snake being hypnotized by a flute.

"Don't change the subject, Cal," I warn him in what I hope is a forceful tone. "You won't make me forget about it by using your charm. It won't work on me." What an unbelievable lie, Heidi!

I don't even believe it myself. Of course, Cal will pick up on that. If the way he's smirking at me, his lips dangerously reaching the nape of my neck, is any indication, he already knows I don't mean it.

"I'd never try to do that," he says, so close to my ear that my entire body shivers.

Shit...

"You can ask me whatever you want," he continues, placing soft, hot kisses on my neck.

I close my eyes, begging my brain to focus, but it's so hard when he's provoking me like this.

"I..." I trail off, clenching my fists beside me when I feel his fingers caressing my leg. Cal knows damn well what he's doing, and if I could see his face now, I'm sure I'd find that stupid grin still splattered on his face. I hate that he has me in a chokehold like this. Why can't I react when he's so close to me? I should push him away and demand he tell me the truth. I can partially believe what he told me, but something within me tells me he's not sharing everything.

But do I really want to know the truth? What will it do to us? Am I ready to give up on what we have? I have mixed feelings, but none of those emotions answer my questions.Right now, I can't find the strength to shove him away and leave his apartment.

"Are you going to finish that sentence, or can I change the subject again by saying I never thought I'd be so turned on by finding you wearing my shirt, on my couch, looking as beautiful as ever, just waiting for me?" Cal whispers in my ear, and I need to clench my legs to order my body to behave and not fall for his plan.

He's trying to distract me, and he's damn near succeeding.

"This is not fair," I complain in a murmur, my eyes still closed.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asks, his hand teasing me by trailing up my leg and reaching close to where I shouldn't want him to touch me at the moment. I should press for more answers. But everything seems so irrelevant now.

How can I refuse this when he is so close to giving me what I so desperately want?