Wrong Number. Right Don. (Sinful Mafia Daddies, #3)

by Natasha L. Black

I hear footsteps approaching. I look up to find Nicole standing in front of me, patiently waiting for me to hang up. My stomach drops, and I’m not sure whether it’s worry for my mother or the sheer gravity of being back in Nicole’s orbit. My grip tightens on the phone. “Sasha,” I mutter, “I’ll call you later.” “Yeah, yeah. Take care of Ma.” I end the call and pocket my phone, giving Nicole my full attention. She studies me, eyes sweeping my face as though she’s wrestling with something unspoken. It unsettles me, and makes me desperately wish I could read her thoughts. Then, she shifts her weight and speaks in a professional, clipped voice. “Your mother is stable, and we’ve completed all the tests. You can see her now.” I nod once, but neither of us moves or looks away. The tension between us is electric, palpable. For a moment, we’re not in a hospital waiting room, but we’re back at that alley behind the restaurant, a breath away from touching. But the chaotic hospital sounds snap me back to the present, and the moment turns painfully awkward. I should thank her for taking care of my mother, for keeping her safe, for doing her job when I was too fucking paralyzed with fear to do anything but stand there and watch. Yet I struggle to form a single word. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and looks up at me, her expression loaded. “Sergei.” She says my name casually, but I’m suddenly remembering how she screamed it, how her whole body reacted when she did. I’m already ...