Bad Blood

Chapter 50

Cephus’ POV

When I woke up the next morning, my body was overly warm. I feel a small hand against my chest and a leg curved into my thigh. Even if she says she hates me, this alone tells me not all of her does. Part of her wants me. She craves something—comfort maybe.

I turn to glare at the clock that sits on the nightstand. It is nearly six a.m. and although I don’t normally get up this early, I feel like I need to. I have some built up aggression, and I can’t get through the day if I don’t go workout.

I slip quietly and slowly from the bed, so I don’t wake Katie.

She is a spitfire. I haven’t given her enough credit. She isn’t okay with anything that I do, in fact, I’m sure she is afraid of it—as she should be. The mafia is no place for a woman. My mother hadn’t…

The thought enters my mind, but I force it away. I refuse to think about my mother. Refuse. It is a shame because I loved her, but thinking about her opens up a gaping hole in my chest.

“Boss, there is someone her