Indebted to the Mafia King
The City That Never Sleeps

Eleni

I roll over, feeling rested for the first time in I don't even know how long, and reach for Dante. My fingers meet sheets where I know he fell asleep after our third round last night. Cold sheets. My heart leaps into my throat. I open my eyes and sit up.

Rumpled blankets. Clothes scattered everywhere. No sign of Dante. I scramble for my phone to see if Gianna or Tony has been trying to reach me with something important. A few notifications await me. One from my email, alerting me I have an unsaved draft. I swipe that away. I tried to write a polite "no, thank you" back to Professor Calhoun yesterday, and it's the last thing I need to think about right now. A few general check-ins and junk. One from Gianna that I open without reading the message preview.

Hello?? Tell me you didn't literally leave for Greece without texting me goodbye.

I blink. Then, my gaze drifts to the time she sent the message. Eleven am. My heart skips another beat, and I check the time now. Nearly noon.

"Shit!" I don't think I've ever slept this late in my life, between school and the restaurant. I've missed half the day already. I snag Dante's crumpled T-shirt off the end of the bed and slide it on over my naked body. I can't remember what day of the week it is, but there's nearly always some house staff around, so I need something to wear down the hall to get dressed.

My feet slide on the wooden floor when I leap out of bed and tear for the door. I don't even know if Dante told all the men he's back in charge yet, or if he really is after last night. I certainly received a few check-ins from soldiers. I fling open the door and sprint down the hall toward my room.

Someone clears their throat. I skid to a halt. There, in the foyer where they can clearly see me, stand three Staten Island Saints. Seb and two other soldiers whose names I haven't learned yet. My face burns, but I straighten up like I'm wearing one of my suits.

"Morning," I say sharply.

"Morning." Seb smirks. "Late night?"

I flip him the bird and stomp to my room. No point in pretending. Just to spite them, despite the summer heat, I change into a turtleneck and jeans before heading downstairs.

Seb is still snickering when I reach the bottom.

"I see you made up," he says. "Or should I be ducking for cover before a mostly naked bartender flees the scene?"

I punch him in the arm. "I thought I was the boss around here."

Seb quirks an eyebrow as he starts to walk down the hall toward Dante's office. "I thought the boss was back, and you got demoted." He smirks again. "Dee-moted, if you know what I mean."

I roll my eyes. "Real mature. We're, uh, still figuring that out." I think. At least telling Seb probably won't cause too much trouble.

He nods. "Badass. I guess you do have a few capo-level kills under your belt."

"And then some." My mind wanders to what Dante said last night about making a name for myself. We reach the door to his office and find it closed. "Do you know what's going on in there?" Seb blows out a breath through his teeth. "Nothing good, as far as I can tell."

"Great." I reach for the doorknob. "I'll go get my own answers."

"Hey!" Seb grabs my wrist. "Why don't we...uh...yeah, this isn't gonna work. Dante asked me to keep you out here because you've got other shit to do today."

I frown. "No, I don't. And if he thinks he can talk a good game when no one's looking and then box me out as soon as the sun comes up, he's got another thing coming."

Before I can reach for the door again, Dante, Tony, and a handful of capos including Armando pour out. Armando shoots me an apologetic shrug.

"All right, everyone go make sure your soldiers are on the same page," Dante says.

The capos start to walk away, but Tony remains.

"Except me, right?"

Dante nods. "Take Seb if you think you need back-up. Get it done."

I stare at the man who whined for my touch last night as Tony grabs Seb and marches out in my peripheral vision.

"What the hell is happening? I haven't even had coffee yet."

"I'll start that." Dante wraps an arm around my waist and kisses my cheek. "Go get dressed. I left a new outfit for you in my closet. We have a few errands to run today." "Errands?" I blink. "Why was everyone?"

He smiles indulgently. "If I tell you a little, will you go? We don't want to be late."

I nod, only half-sure I actually woke up.

"It's Cal Duncan," he says. "Nothing bad. He's just throwing a little money around where he doesn't belong."

My synapses take a few seconds to connect the dots, but finally, I get there. Cal Duncan, boss of the Irish Kings, motherfucker in the city I had pegged as most likely to cause trouble soon. Dante must see the recognition dawn, because he pats my butt and says, "Now get going."

Blearily, I obey. Everything is happening so fast. But I go to the closet he described and find a garment bag emblazoned with a designer label. Inside sits a cobalt blue skirt-suit, a white shirt to go underneath, and a pair of matching, red-

bottomed heels. It looks like something I'd pick out over the last few weeks, with a bit more color. And of course, when I put it on, it fits perfectly. I admire myself in the mirror for a moment, pull my hair up in a quick bun like Gianna taught me, and add a little bit of lip gloss and mascara. My uniform in Dante's absence. Then, my head still spinning, I trudge downstairs with the heels in hand.

Dante waits for me at the bottom with a steaming to-go cup of coffee in hand. I didn't even know we had those. I snatch the beverage out of his hands and sip greedily.

Two creams, two sugars. Just like I used to take it. Which he doesn't know changed. I pull the cup away from my lips and eye him.

"What exactly are we doing today?"

He just smiles and offers me his arm.