Long Live the King (An Italian Mafia Romance Duet #2) by Ws Greer Page A

loosening. I let out a deep exhale and close my eyes, letting her touch relax my every muscle.
    “Maybe there’s something else I need to be thinking about,” I say, as Alannah rubs her hand over my eyes, forcing me to close them and relax like I’m in a shrink’s office. “You trying to put me to sleep?” I ask, behind a chuckle.
    “No, I just want you to relax, baby, that’s all. You want to talk, and I want to listen to you, that’s all.”
    She rubs my face with the palms of her hands as I think out loud, letting her be my therapist—my priest in the confessional.
    “I don’t know, but maybe this whole thing is a sign—a sign that says I need to start thinking about who I can and can’t trust. It’s been such a quiet year since I became the boss, but if history has proven anything, it’s that bosses are almost always being undermined by those closest to them. I need to think about who’s trustworthy. I don’t have any suspicion about Frankie or Tommy, but the rest of them, I don’t know. These guys were loyal to Leo, but are they loyal to me?”
    I let Alannah’s hands caress my head as she sits in silence, doing nothing more than letting me talk. She knows that eventually I’ll figure it all out. I always do.
    This little situation is tricky, though. Who the fuck steals an ice truck, finds over a million dollars in it, then just abandons it with the money still inside? No bum mulignan would ever do that. So it must be a wise guy, then. But why would a wise guy do it? I think back to when I was just a youngster trying to make a name for myself in this life, and I know for a fact I never would’ve left a truck with over a million dollars sitting in it. No fucking chance. So, I’m left with a big, fat question mark swirling around in my head.
    “There isn’t a wise guy in the world who’d leave a truck with that much money in it,” I continue thinking aloud. “I’m getting a fucking headache thinking about this shit.”
    “Maybe you should sleep on it. I’m sure it’ll come to you in the morning,” Alannah says, breaking her silence.
    “Nah, I’m sorry, baby,” I reply, finally opening my eyes. “I think I may need a minute alone, actually. It’s been a long, fucked up day, and I need some time to think things through on my own.”
    “I understand,” she answers as I sit up. “Well, I’m gonna go ahead and go lay down then. Not really feeling too well tonight.”
    “Are you okay?”
    “Oh yeah, I’m fine,” she says as she leans forward and kisses me on the cheek. “Just a little lightheaded, nothing to worry about. I’ll meet you in the room. If I’m asleep when you get in there, wake me up, okay? I want to enjoy laying with you.”
    “Okay,” I say, smiling at the love of my life. “I love you.”
    “I love you,” she replies, as she walks around the couch and makes her way down the hallway towards the bedroom.
    I have the room to myself and the rest of the night to think about this shit. Everything happened really fast and I need some time to let my brain catch up. So, I grab a short glass from the kitchen and fill it to the rim with Villa Zarri Italian Brandy, then I make my way back to the couch and light up a Romeo Y Julieta cigar. I spend the rest of my night drinking and smoking as the question marks swirl around my head like the smoke escaping my mouth. No answers come to me, however. In fact, the more I drink, the more questions I have, and the further away from the answers I feel.
    I call it a night around three in the morning, finally deciding to stumble into the shower to get the stench of alcohol and frustration off of me before I lay down next to Alannah. I do as she requested and wake her up as I pull the sheets over me, and she responds by throwing an arm around me, pulling me close.
    I cling to her as I close my eyes and hope tomorrow provides me with a raft made of answers. If not, then maybe I’ll just have to start drowning the people next to me to