Chapter 2
Annabelle
I ended up wearing that black slip dress after all.
It put Lucian another three grand in the hole. He didn't complain once. He just folded it neatly and hung it in our rickety wardrobe.
He had even forced that black card into my purse the next morning. Five million dollars. His absolute last dime, given to me without a second thought.
His half-brother, Julian, had seen to it that Lucian couldn't get a real job. Julian had stolen the family syndicate, taken Lucian's territory, and put the word out across the five boroughs: anyone caught hiring the former Ghost would end up in a body bag.
So Lucian fought. Every night, he took bare-knuckle beatings in a blood-soaked underground ring in the Bronx just to pay our rent.
No matter how bruised he was, he always came home to cook for me.
I was curled up on the sagging couch when the front door clicked open.
His knuckles were taped and stained with fresh blood. A jagged cut over his left eyebrow was still weeping red. But instead of resting, he tied an apron around his waist and went straight to the stove.
Two weeks ago, this man could break a cartel boss's arm with one hand. Now, he was standing in a two-hundred-square-foot shoebox, slicing garlic.
I picked at the bowl of grapes he had washed for me and checked my phone under the cushion.
My offshore balance read fifteen million dollars. It was all pocket money Lucian had wired me over the years. Under the bed, a shoebox held diamond Cartier watches and custom gold pieces he'd given me. Any single one could pay our rent for the next decade.
Guilt hit me. I glanced toward the kitchenette.
He had taken off his bloodstained shirt. He stood there in low-slung jeans and a ridiculous pink floral apron. Broad shoulders. Tapered waist. Sweat gleamed over his tattooed back and the thick scars across his ribs.
He looked unfairly good.
I shifted on the cushions to get a better look and slammed my bare toe straight into the coffee table.
"Ow! Damn it!"
Lucian crossed the room in two strides. He dropped to his knees, taking my foot into his large, rough hands. His thumbs gently worked the bruise.
"You shouldn't be living like this, Anna," he muttered. He kept his eyes on my ankle, his voice thick with defeat. "Take the card. Get out of the city. Stop letting me drag you down."
I yanked my foot out of his grip and glared at him. "I haven't bitched about this dump once, and you're already trying to kick me out?"
Lucian opened his mouth to argue, but I cut him off.
"I know what this is. You think I'm too expensive to keep around. Too high-maintenance now that you're broke."
"Anna, that's not—"
"What did you say in Prague when you pulled me out of that cartel basement? You swore you'd protect me forever. Now you want to ditch me for some ride-or-die chick who likes living in a gutter? Bullshit, Lucian."
He gave up trying to reason with me. He just reached up and placed a rough palm over my mouth. His skin smelled of iodine and dried sweat.
His Adam's apple bobbed. It took him several seconds to find his voice.
"I don't want you suffering here. The roof leaks. You freeze half the night. You took one bite of those cheap strawberries yesterday and threw them out. I can't even afford your perfume anymore. You deserve better than this shithole."
Usually, a mafia boss loses his crown, and his mistress runs with the cash.
But I had lived with this man for five years. When he ran the underworld, he never let danger touch me. No matter how busy he was, he always came home. When his rivals ambushed our car in Queens, he shoved me under the seat and took a bullet to the ribs without flinching.
I grabbed his collar and yanked him down onto the couch. Leaning over him, I kissed the corner of his split lip.
He tasted like cold mint and rubbing alcohol.
"You promised me forever," I whispered against his skin. "Not a day less. You're stuck with me."
Neon text exploded across my vision.
【Holy crap! The side chick just pinned the Ghost to the couch?!】
【Look at his ears! Is the most lethal killer in New York actually blushing right now?!】
【Don't fall for this, guys! Victoria is about to show up. Next chapter: Julian crashes the fight club to humiliate Lucian, and Victoria saves him with her family connections! That's the real endgame!】
【Anna is disposable trash. The plot will wipe her out soon anyway. Don't waste your tears on her!】
I ignored the feed. I locked my arms around his neck and kissed him harder.
Lucian's eyes fluttered wide in panic. A dark flush ran from his throat straight to his ears.
When I broke the kiss to breathe, he shoved me off with frantic care. He scrambled up, actually stuttering.
"The... the pan. It's gonna burn."
He practically sprinted back to the stove.
I laughed into the couch cushions. The deadliest hitman in the city, rattled by a single kiss.
【LMAO, he ran away! The contrast is insane!】
【I'm sorry, but they're so cute together...】
【Stay strong, BookTok! Don't let the villainess distract you from the canon couple!】
I had noticed the floating text weeks ago. At first, I thought I was losing my mind.
Then every single event they mentioned started happening in real life.
I realized my world was just a cheap mafia romance. I was the shallow mistress designed to die so the main couple could unite.
At first, the script controlled me. On the roof, my hands had packed my bags on pure autopilot. But the panic from reading about my own death had snapped me out of the trance.
Now, I was writing my own rules.
For the next three days, Lucian went back to the ring every night.
I spent my afternoon on the sofa, eating a chocolate cupcake he had brought home with his fight purse.
Suddenly, neon letters flashed across the plaster wall.
【It's happening tonight! Julian is bringing his crew to trash the fight club. The venue belongs to Victoria's family!】
【Victoria steps in, protects Lucian, and sparks fly! My girl is finally making her debut!】
【Once Victoria shows up, Anna is history.】
【Honestly, feel bad for the mistress. Lucian bought her that cupcake with blood money. She thinks he loves her, but the plot is about to erase her completely.】
I swallowed the last bite of frosting, wiped my fingers, and grabbed my coat.
Not on my watch.
