Indebted to the Mafia King
Since You're Staying

Dante

I pull the car up in front of the abstract red sculpture that marks the front of the Tandon Institute, and Eleni turns to me with a glare.

"What the hell are we doing here?"

I park. "You know, I think the sculpture looks like a bunch of checkers falling over. What about you?" "Dante." She crosses her arms. "Answer me."

I smile. I knew she was going to react like this. In truth, I don't really care. She's staying. She's finding a way to get used to the fact that I killed Christos. It's not over between us, and I don't have to spend the rest of my life wishing I never told her. Even the ache in my chest can't bring me down today. I climb out of the car without answering, circle around the hood, and try to open her door.

It's locked. She locked it. She stares through the window at me, arms still crossed.

"Answers, or I'm not getting out," she calls through the bulletproof glass.

I exhale heavily. How has she gotten more stubborn? I was only gone for two weeks.

"Is 'you're going to be late in five minutes' enough?"

"Late for what?" she replies.

"Registration." I can't help the smile that creeps over my lips.

Her mouth falls open. "Registration? Here? Dante, why are you doing this?"

I smooth a hand over my hair and thank whoever's listening that the campus is quiet on this midsummer day. Without students streaming into and out of the glass building behind me, I'm just another man negotiating with a car in New York City. No one's even going to look twice.

"I glanced over your books," I admit. I woke up earlier than any doctor would be happy to hear, and I needed something to do this morning. "It all seemed like jargon, so I took a look at your notes. God, El, I didn't understand a fucking word, but I can tell you're smart."

She bites her lips and flicks her gaze to the building behind me. My heart leaps. She's listening. And she looks like a fucking dream.

"And...I saw that email." I smile sheepishly like I didn't go looking to see if she'd said anything back. "You had half an apology typed up. Something about appreciating his faith in you, wishing you could accept, but you had to...." I lean against the car. "You don't have to go anywhere anymore. Since you're staying, you should take advantage of this opportunity."

She fiddles with the lock. "Do you have any idea how much a semester at Tandon costs?"

"$31,123," I say blithely. "Which I already have earmarked for this upcoming semester."

She stares at me for a long moment. One long, dark curl has tumbled out of her bun to frame her face, and I just want to pull on it. She deserves this. And a million other things. I just need her to let me provide.

"I can't go full-time," she says as she opens the car door. "And I doubt I can live on campus. I live in Staten Island now-"

"Why not?" I loop my arm through hers and start leading her into the building before she can run.

She raises an eyebrow. "I'm still a Saint. And you were the one who was all over me last night about how much danger I've put myself in, these last two weeks. Don't you remember what happened when I tried to take my last final?" I frown as we board the elevator. Seb and her guards got kidnapped by Luca Lombardi's people, but that's not normal. Hell, I went to college and survived.

"All of my capos have jobs outside of the syndicate," I say. "Tony runs a carwash. Did he ever tell you that?"

"He did." Eleni drops her voice to a whisper as we exit the elevator on the third floor. "Right before he told me that was how I should clean the money we cleaned out of that warehouse in Jersey."

"A job's a job." I wave my hand airily. "Go talk to the registrar. See what they have, what excites you. We can talk logistics later."

"But-"

I open the door the nice assistant gave me directions to on the phone this morning, grab Eleni by the shoulders, and shove her in. Up here, a few students mill back and forth, and I stand out too like a sore thumb in my suit. During that call, the assistant told me the meeting would take anywhere from half an hour to an hour, so I wander until I find a cluster of chairs and sit.

Try to sit. I slide on the egg-shaped orange leather for a few seconds before giving up, leaning on one of the floor to ceiling windows, and pull out my phone. It hasn't been that long since I was in college, but the air here feels completely different than it did at Wagner. Maybe it's the difference in majors. Maybe it's just how much staggeringly smarter the people here are than the ones there. We had some eggheads, but Tandon produces Nobel Prize winners. There's no contest.

Everything Tony told me about El running the Saints plays through my mind, and for the first time, I wonder if she's not wasting her time in the mafia. Not for any protective reasons-though I'd still kill to get her out, let her live on campus, just have a normal college experience but because her talents are wasted with us. That sends a frisson of nerves up my spine, and I pull out my phone to call Tony.

"How's it going?" he says, his voice layered with innuendo.

"Fuck off," I reply. "We're at the registrar."

Tony chuckles. "I think people usually wait longer to get cold feet."

A couple of students burst into laughter, and I tuck my phone closer to my ear, as if they could hear me.

"My feet are nice and fucking toasty. I have to do this."

He sighs. "Are you doing this to protect her, or because you want to?"

I bristle. "Because she's staying, she needs protection. Of course."

"Right." Tony lets the biting sarcasm linger for a moment. "Just calling to chat? Should I get one of those phone cords to wind around my finger while we giggle about crushes?"

He might be my best friend, but sometimes, Tony is the worst fucking person to talk to about shit. I grit my teeth and stare out over the street, the hum of New York City that Eleni will be embedded within when she comes here. It's better than Staten Island for her. I know that. I have to keep her in the real world as much as I can. I can't lose that part of her yet.

"Have you gotten me that face-to-face with Cal yet?" I ask.

"Working on it," Tony replies. "If you've got a free evening, he might be "

My phone vibrates. I pull it away from my head to check. A text from Eleni, wondering where I am. She's already out. I don't know whether that's a good sign or bad.

"Set it up," I tell Tony. "I have to go."

I hang up before he can make another joke and hurry back through the halls. When I find Eleni, she's standing outside the office, her face slightly pink and a new-student folder clutched in both hands.

"How much did you donate? They said I didn't even have to worry about the application process," she demands.

I tuck my arm through hers and smile. "Where do you want to go to lunch?"

She doesn't need to know how little it was after Professor Calhoun's glowing recommendation, and how much more I'd pay to see that little blush again.