Drawn To Darkness (Kings Of Mafia)

It feels like all I’ve done since Dario rescued me is sleep and eat.

I’m lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling while Dario’s working. At first, I tried to take an interest in what he was doing, but that shit’s so far over my head I quickly gave up.

Suddenly, it hits me like a lightning bolt that I haven’t called Sylvia, and I shoot upright into a sitting position. “Shit!”

The laptop almost flies off Dario’s lap as he shoves it aside, and a second later, his arm’s wrapped around my shoulder.

“What? Are you in pain?”

“I didn’t call my boss. She’s going to fire my ass.”

Shit, I lost my phone when I was grabbed.

Dario gets up and leaves the room, which has me calling after him, “Can I use your phone?”

Less than a minute later, he comes back, and when I see my phone in his hand, I crawl to the edge of the bed, asking, “Is it charged?”

“Yes.”

He hands it to me, and I quickly dial the diner’s number. It takes a while before the call is answered.

“Ben’s Burgers, how can we help you?” Sherrie’s voice comes over the line.

“Hi, Sherrie, it’s Eden.”

“Oh my God! Where have you been? Sylvia’s been losing her shit.”

Where have I been?

Not ready to tell anyone, I lie. “I was mugged again. The guy beat me up, and I was out of it. Is Sylvia there? Can I talk to her?”

A frown forms on his forehead. “Again? There was a first time?”

Shit.

I indicate for him to wait as Sherrie says, “Girl, you have the worst luck. Hold on while I get her.”

A moment later Sylvia’s voice sounds up in my ear. “Sherrie said you were mugged again. You okay?”

“Just beaten up pretty bad. Sorry, I didn’t call sooner.”

“I almost advertised your job. You’re lucky you called today. When will you be back? We’re getting busy with the holiday rush.”

Jesus.

“I’ll be in tomo–”

Dario pulls the phone out of my hand, and taking over the conversation, he says, “This is Dario, Eden’s boyfriend. She won’t be in for at least two weeks.” He listens for a moment, then mutters, “Do what you have to do.”

When he hangs up the call, I stare at him with wide eyes.

He sets the phone down on the bed, and leaning over me, he grips my chin between his thumb and forefinger.

Locking eyes with me, he grumbles, “Things are going to change. You’re no longer working at the diner. You will rest for the next two weeks.”

When my lips part so I can argue with him, he shakes his head and gives me a firm look.

“You’re my girlfriend, and that means I get to take care of you. It’s not open for discussion. I understand you’re a strong, independent woman, but it doesn’t mean I’m going to stand by and watch you work yourself to death.”

My lips part again, but he stops me from talking with another serious look while saying, “I’m not done yet.”

Okay.

I’m liking this dominant side of him.

Dario sits down in front of me, moving his hand from my chin to the side of my neck.

“We have to meet in the middle, Tesoro. I won’t keep you from working, but you have to let me do things for you. Starting with me buying you a new phone.”

Looking at the man who’s stolen my heart, I suppress the urge to argue. I know I can be stubborn, but I can’t just think about myself anymore.

“It’s going to be difficult,” I admit. “I’m not used to taking things from people.”

“I’m not people.” He tilts his head. “I’m your boyfriend.”

“What if I make all these changes, and you break up with me?” I ask the question that worries me the most.

Dario surprises the hell out of me when he says, “If it’s security you need, I’ll marry you tomorrow.”

“Huh?”

I blink at the man as if he’s lost his mind. When the words sink in, I start to laugh, shaking my head. “It’s way too soon.”

“Not for me.”

Realizing he’s serious, I gape at him. “Jesus, Dario. We’ve only dated for a few weeks. Marriage is a serious commitment.”

“So?”

“Two weeks!” I give him an incredulous look.

With a dead serious expression, he mutters, “It doesn’t matter whether we’re dating or married because I’m never letting you go.”

“We can talk about marriage at a much later stage,” I say. Wiping a hand over my forehead, I mumble, “Now I’ve forgotten what we were talking about.”

“You said you’re scared of making changes and talked shit about us breaking up, then I brought up marriage, and you freaked out,” he reminds me.

“Right.” I let out a sigh, and feeling tired from the intense conversation, I lie down.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

Dario crawls over me and bracing his hands on either side of my head, he locks eyes with me.

“You need security, and I want to give it to you. Let me transfer an amount into your bank account, so if the impossible happens and we break up, you’ll have money while you figure out what to do.”

“I can’t just take your money,” I mutter.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he says. “When you’re better, you’ll dance for me every night. Take the money as payment.”

You need to meet him in the middle.

But damn, it’s difficult.

Giving in, I nod. “Okay.”

The corners of his mouth lift, and he presses a soft kiss to my mouth, then mutters, “Christ, you’re a tough negotiator.”

Bella wakes up from where she’s snoozing, and worms her way in between Dario and me, sniffing all over my face.

Dario climbs off me, and a second later, says, “Give me your banking details.”

I ramble the details to him while playing with Bella.

Dario lets out a chuckle as he opens his laptop again. “Just remember you agreed to the deal.”

“Yeah-yeah.” I sit up again. “I’ve slept enough. Can we watch some TV?”

“Give me a second while I wait for the transfer to go through.”

“It could’ve waited.” I climb off the bed and pick up my cell phone. Noticing I have messages I scroll through them.

There are two from Sylvia threatening me to get my ass to work, but they were sent before I called her.

There’s one from Sherrie asking if I’m okay.

I open the text and send her a reply.

Thanks for checking up on me. I’ll swing by the diner when I’m better.

Opening the last message, I let out a gasp.

Quincy: I don’t know if you’ll ever see this. I’m okay. I hope you’re okay too. No one’s telling me shit.

Jesus, how could I forget about him?

Pressing dial on his number, I don’t have to wait long for him to answer.

“Eden! Are you okay? Where are you?”

Hearing the worry in his voice makes me feel a little emotional.

“I’m fine. I’m at home. Are you still in the hospital?”

“Nah, I got out this morning. I’m at home with Anita making a fuss over me.”

I let out a relieved sigh. “I’m so happy to hear that.” Brushing a hand through my hair, I mutter, “I’m sorry you got shot because of me.”

He clears his throat. “What happened to you after they shot me?”

“Nothing worth retelling,” I say so I won’t cause him any worry. My chin starts to tremble, and I swallow hard on the emotion. “I’m glad you’re home.”

Dario comes to stand next to me, rubbing his hand up and down my back.

“I have to go, but it was nice talking to you,” I tell Quincy. “Enjoy all the attention you’re getting from Anita.”

“I will. Take care of yourself.”

We end the call, and I let out another breath of relief.

“Quincy?” Dario asks.

“Yeah.” I glance up at him. “How did you know?”

“You mentioned hospital and Anita, which is his wife’s name.”

“Right.”

“Come on. You can watch TV with Tyrone while I go out.”

I pick up Bella, and walking out of the bedroom, I ask, “Where are you going?”

“To get a couple of things. I won’t be too long.”

When I get to the living room, I make myself comfortable on the couch and let Bella snuggle in my lap.

When Tyrone comes to sit with me, he says, “I’ve been told to guard you while your man goes out.”

I let out a chuckle because no one needs to tell Tyrone to guard me. He’s been doing it all my life.

Dario comes to kiss me goodbye, and as he leaves the apartment, I switch on the TV and pick a comedy to watch.