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#Chapter 105: All Aboard
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My Mafia Mate #Chapter 106: Afraid of Dogs
EllaI had to resist the urge to laugh as Logan’s face drained of color.“Dogs,” he had said. The irony was not lost on me. Dogs? This man, who could shift into a wolf, was scared of dogs?He shot me a sideways glance, as if he was sensing the disbelief radiating from my body. “I know what you&
My Mafia Mate #Chapter 107: A Long Night
EllaThe sound of the plane’s wheels screeching against the landing strip jerked me awake.For a moment, I was disoriented—until I felt the weight of an arm around my shoulders and saw Logan sitting next to me. My cheeks flushed as I realized I had fallen asleep against him. God, I even felt a small wet spot on my cheek where I must have drooled.
My Mafia Mate #Chapter 108: Little Victories
EllaSitting alone in my hotel room, surrounded by plush furniture and golden accents that gleamed in the soft lighting, I felt a pang of homesickness. The luxuriousness of the room was stifling in an odd way, as though constantly reminding me of my charade with a mobster.Shaking off the momentary melancholy, I decided to call Moana to calm my frayed nerves.Taking a deep breath to compose myself, I dialed her number and waited for the ring to connect. The familiar sound of her voice, warm and comforting as always, came through within moments.“Ella, my love! How was your flight? Did you make it to the hotel?”“We did,” I said, faking a sense of enthusiasm in my voice. “The place is...well, it’s something.”“Where is your fiance?” Moana asked. “I’d like to say hello, if you don’t mind.”The word ‘fiance’ made my body stiffen. I glanced at the empty space next to me, where Logan would have been if we were an actual couple. But we weren’t. He was in a room of his own, doing his own thi
My Mafia Mate #Chapter 109: Dress to Impress
EllaAs I stood in front of my bed, my eyes darted from one outfit to another where they laid sprawled out on top of the comforter.I knew that this shouldn’t have been a difficult decision. But for some reason, it was. For reasons that I never wanted to admit, I found myself actually caring about how I looked in front of Logan, and I felt like an absolute moron. But I couldn’t deny it; I wanted to look nice.As I pondered my choices, my wolf piped up in my mind, a sly undercurrent of mischief lacing her tone.“Why don’t you wear the red dress? You know how good you look in it. Especially if you’re trying to catch someone’s eye.”I grimaced. “I’m not trying to catch anyone’s eye, especially not Logan’s.”She chuckled. “Sure. Let’s just pretend for a moment that you haven’t thought about how he’d react if you got all dressed up tonight.”“Stop it. I don’t think of him in that way,” I shot back, feigning a coolness in my voice that I didn’t really feel.“Oh? And what about the kiss at t
My Mafia Mate #Chapter 110: Ideals
EllaThe cool evening air was a welcome relief from the almost stuffy warmth of the opulent hotel. I hated to admit it, but I was glad that we decided to go out after all. My wolf purred happily in the back of my mind, her obsession with our fated mate having grown over the recent weeks and only made worse by our flight together.But I was happy too, although I would never have admitted to that. I liked having Logan by my side, even just as a friend to confide in. And being home was a comfort in and of itself, to be able to walk freely in my home city without the thought of being harassed or pickpocketed. For the first time in a while, I felt as though I could breathe properly.Fall leaves swirled around our feet as we walked down a cozy street lined with shops made of brick facades. Here, in my home city, it seemed as though there was a shop for everything: a hair salon, a jewelry store, an antique shop, a French cafe. And that was just to name a few; we were only walking along a tin
My Mafia Mate #Chapter 111: To Be Loved
EllaMy cheeks were still flushed from the moment of tension between us. Logan seemed genuinely hurt and offended that I implied that I didn’t believe him, and for reasons that I didn’t want to admit, I hated seeing him like that.So, stumbling over my words, I tried to mend the conversation. “Logan, I didn’t mean to imply that you were lying about your intentions. I just... I wondered if your original plan to actually take down the mafia would ever materialize.”He looked at me, his eyes softening. “Ella, I honestly hope it will. I can’t be entirely sure, but I’ll do everything in my power to make it happen. We have a contract, remember?”My eyes met his, filled with something like relief, mixed with a lingering note of embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Logan. I really am.”He broke into a grin, shattering the intensity of the moment, and lightly punched my arm. “Hey, I’m pulling your leg. I’m not actually offended. I get it, you have every right to be wary. I am the son of a mob boss, afte
My Mafia Mate #Chapter 112: Childlike Joy
EllaThe unexpected sign on the door was like a punch to the gut—a vivid, glaring announcement that one of my favorite spots had been shut down.“CLOSED FOR BUSINESS”, it read. I felt the corners of my mouth turn downward as I stepped“Man, this sucks,” I mumbled, still unable to shake off the disappointment.Logan looked at me, his eyes reflecting a softer hue of concern. “Damn. You seem like you really liked this place.”“Yeah, I did,” I confessed, running a hand through my hair. “I know it’s silly, but they had really good food, and I came here a lot when I was younger. I wonder why they shut down all of a sudden.”He chuckled, a warm sound that instantly reminded me that not everything had to be doom and gloom just because one of my favorite restaurants had closed. I think what really struck me more than anything, though, was the fact that it just reminded me of the fact that not everything could stay the same.“Well,” Logan said, “I guess we’ll have to find somewhere else to go.
My Mafia Mate #Chapter 113: Carousel
Logan I was eight years old. The walls of our house were cold and uninviting, filled with the scent of cigars and the persistent feeling of tension. My father’s office was the epitome of this atmosphere—a sanctuary of order and discipline. Mahogany desk, leather chair, and shelves teeming with meticulously arranged books. He sat at his desk with the stern posture that always intimidated me, his icy eyes scanning through documents on his laptop. “Dad, can we go to the fair? Matty and Greg are going with their families,” I said, barely containing my excitement. I clutched a crumpled flyer for the fair in my tiny hand, complete with pictures of cotton candy, carousels, and game booths. But my other hand was clenched nervously into a fist, my knuckles white with anticipation. Leonard’s gaze lifted from his computer and met my eager eyes. His face was like a chiseled statue, cold and unyielding. “A fair?” he sneered, as if the word itself was a blemish on his refined vocabula
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