Indebted to the Mafia King

*Heidi*

Visiting Grandma and Grandpa at the nursing home feels somewhat bittersweet. I've missed them a lot, and I wish I could spend more time with them like I used to. But they have a new routine now, and it's not like I can come by everyday to check on them and spend time here.I need to get back on my feet, to get on with my life. I need to get my job back.

On the cab back home, I look out the window, contemplating the past few weeks and how much my life has changed ever since. Everything revolves around Cal. He told me he loved me last night. He shared his heart, and the things he said about me and how he thought he wasn't worthy of me, it was all so sweet that my heart still skips a beat whenever I replay it in my head.

Is this what I want my entire life to be like? Sharing it with Cal, no matter what?

I still have my doubts about what I found in his closet, it's true, but I'm sure Cal will tell me the truth about everything one day. Despite what I said to him, and how I feel about him, our relationship is still new. I can't blame him for not telling me everything. I can't force him to share his entire life with me either. We haven't even labeled whatever we have between us yet. How can I demand that he tells me all the details about his life?

Sure, I have the right to decide I don't want to be with him anymore because he wasn't honest with me about something that could potentially cause me harm. But so far, nothing he's done has put me in danger. We can cross that bridge when we come to it. Until then, I'll enjoy the happiness Cal provides me. Because I am happy when I'm with him.

A little voice in the back of my mind reminds me of the fire in my bookstore and losing everything because of something related to Cal. I still haven't figured out what really happened. He never denied being responsible for it, even if indirectly, so that should serve as an example of why things might be more concerning than what Cal is letting on. But how can I worry about anything when in his arms I feel the safest? No matter how hard I try, I can't imagine my life without him in it anymore.

As soon as I arrive at the apartment, I start cleaning it up, deciding to take the day to give my new home some attention. Staying at Cal's lately has made me neglect this place a bit. I also need to go grocery shopping because everything I bought in the first week here is already gone. It's a long busy day of chores and errands, and eventually, I tucker out and make my way to bed.

It feels weird to lie on the mattress alone-without Cal by my side-but it's good to take some time for me as well. I need to have a clear mind so I can make decisions, and being in his apartment with him won't help me do that.

Grandma told me the insurance money will probably be in our hands by this time next week, so I need to rush to find a place to set up my new bookstore. I'd still prefer to rent the space I saw in Greenwich Village, but I need to make an offer first because I can't afford the price they are asking for now. I know Cal offered to get it for me, but if I can get it myself, that'd be ideal. I don't want to depend on him for everything, even if we're together.

My phone rings on my nightstand, and I reach for it, finding a text message from Cal. 'Sleeping already?'noveldrama

I smile to myself, typing an answer right away.

'Not quite yet. I'm in bed, but my mind is completely awake.'

I stare at the ceiling while waiting for him to reply.

Calling would probably be faster, but maybe he's busy at the bar. It's late for me, but for someone like him, who works at night time, it's still considered early. Also, Cal has been missing work at night since he's been staying with me, so he probably has a lot to do.

Another message from him dings on my phone. 'I'll miss you in my bed tonight. But we'll see each other tomorrow, right?'

'Sure. Want to come over tomorrow night? I have to go to Greenwich Village in the morning, but other than that, my schedule is pretty free,' I text back.

'Sounds like a plan to me. I'll bring the wine.'

I text him a heart emoji as a reply, and before I know it, I'm fast asleep.

The next morning, I get up and take a shower, getting dressed to go to the shop in Greenwich Village to see if I can make an offer to the owner. I put on my best suit, trying to look presentable and professional, hoping my appearance will help me with my goal.

The day is sunny and the weather isn't as cold as yesterday, but I still need to wear gloves as I call for a cab on the sidewalk. While I wait, my eyes catch something that makes my stomach churn.

I instantly get a bad feeling. Call it instinct, a sixth sense, or whatever, but I just know something is wrong. I'm not one to be suspicious of everything and everyone, nor am I someone who thinks I'm being watched or followed, but this black car on the other side of the street gives me the creeps.

I shake my head, telling myself that I'm probably overthinking. Maybe the guns at Cal's place have made an impression, and my subconscious is starting to play tricks on me. I go on about my business, hopping in a taxi and traveling across town.

But when I get home from my failed meeting at Greenwich Village, and the car is still there, I panic. Not just because of the car but because of whoever is driving it. I can't see his face clearly because of the tinted window, but I know he's following me with his eyes, barely blinking as he watches me walk inside my building. My heart starts thumping in my chest, and I clench my fingers around my purse, considering what to do. I might be freaking out for nothing. I might be imagining things.

If I call someone, what will I say? Will I say I'm being followed? How would I prove it? Or worse...what if I accuse an innocent person of something that my brain is probably making up?

I swallow hard and grab my phone from my purse, not waiting to see if the car will leave. I head upstairs, hoping to get out of their sight as quickly as possible. If they really are following me, they know I live here by now, so there's no use trying to mislead them.

Cal's face appears in my mind's eye, and I know I need to call him. He'll be really pissed at me if I don't and then something happens. I don't want to scare him or anything, but at this point, I'm so nervous that my hands are shaking as I try to find my keys inside my bag.

As soon as I'm safe inside my apartment, the door behind me locked, I dial his number. "Hey, sweetheart," he greets me, his voice a bit distant and muffled by chattering around him. He must be at the bar, but I don't bother to ask.

"Hi," I reply weakly. "Listen, I don't mean to scare you, but I think there's someone watching me outside my building.

"Where are you?" Cal asks right away through clenched teeth.

"I'm safe. I'm at home," I tell him.

"Stay right there. I'm on my way."

It takes him less than five minutes to arrive, and considering this is New York City-even though I live close to his bar-it's still impressive.

He knocks on my door, making sure to call my name so I know it's him. I pull the door open, and he barges inside, crossing half the living room with a couple of long strides. His eyes roam around, taking in every inch of my small apartment. His jaw is tense, his brows creased, and his fists are clenched beside him. His shoulders are so stiff that I wonder how he's even able to move his neck from side to side so fast like that.

"Cal, it's fine. No one followed me inside," I reassure him, not sure if this is what he wants to hear. By the look of it, he's not even listening to me. I've never seen him like this before. It seems a bit overdramatic to me, if I'm being honest. His behavior is frantic and erratic; it's nothing like the composed, confident man I know.

"What did you see?" he asks, turning to face me now that he's certain no one is inside my apartment, hiding to jump out at us any minute.

"I-It..." I stammer a little, caught off guard for a second. "It was just a feeling. It could

be nothing. I might have overreact-"

"What did you see, Heidi?" he presses, coming close to me.

"I went out to run errands this morning, and there was a black car on the other side of

the street. At first it felt like I was just imagining things, but when I got back, the car was still here, and the man inside was following me with his eyes," I explain, trying not to be intimidated by his expression.

"What did he look like?" Cal asks, his eyes scanning every inch of my face.

"I couldn't see him clearly. The windows were tinted," I answer. "I didn't even see the plate because I sort of panicked, but it was an black car that looked pretty expensive."

"Fuck," he mutters to himself, his hands darting to his hair in frustration. He tugs at it, and I widen my eyes, watching his odd reaction.

"Cal... What is it? What are you not telling me? Do you know who it was?" I press, the panic within me threatening to crawl back.

He doesn't answer me, grabbing his phone from his pocket instead, and typing something quickly.

"Cal!" I urge, my voice raising a pitch. He looks up at me, his eyes darkened. "Tell me now what you're hiding from me. First the fire, then the guns, and now this. There's clearly something going on that you're not divulging, so you'd better start telling me the truth. Now."

He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath, and that's enough confirmation for me to know something is very wrong.

Everything starts making sense. It's like the puzzle is finally coming together. Like I stepped out into the light. I was ignoring it. All along, everything about Cal screamed danger to me, but I chose not to pay attention because of my feelings for him. But now, judging by his reaction to a simple suspicion of mine, I can't be wrong about this.

"What is it?" I insist, my tone softer and calmer now. It might be a better approach if I want him to give me an answer.

Cal looks at me with pain in his eyes, and I'm pretty sure whatever comes out of his mouth next will crush me.

"I'm the boss of the Irish Kings."