chapter 12

MOLLY

He took me to Pedro’s, a very exclusive small restaurant that most people only heard about. As we pulled up, going down an alley and then stopping at what looked like their back door, I could attest to how special I already felt. A back entryway. Two members of their waitstaff came out, dressed in black pants and shirts and nice-quality cream aprons, to greet us. The chef stepped out as we got to the door, and he embraced Ashton, speaking in Spanish.

We were getting this special treatment because of Ashton, because of who he was. Ashton was Mafia. I caught the looks from the staff through the windows. These people knew it.

They were all watching.

I couldn’t catch what was being said, but it was beautiful to hear, a touching moment to witness, and then the chef came to me and took my hand in both of his. He was speaking again, blinking back tears.

I thought Ashton would translate, but he didn’t. His eyes were on me, and they’d gone back to their normal hardness. A chill started t