I Went Back to the Mafia Boss—Then Saw the Unthinkable in His Car

The next three weeks were filled with tension.

Vincent didn't come to the club on Thursdays. When Nina asked Viktor—who still dropped by occasionally to check on the club's security—he offered only brief, carefully guarded answers.

"The Don is busy, Miss Carver," Viktor said one evening while standing near the bar. "There are disputes within the family council. Dante is making moves, trying to push the Don into a war with a rival family in Jersey."

"Is Vincent safe?" Nina asked, unable to hide the deep worry in her voice.

Viktor looked at her, his hard, scarred face softening slightly. "He is the Don, Miss Carver. But... he is tired. He has spent thirty years carrying this weight. Having you and this place... it gives him something he hasn't had in a long time. Hope."

That night, Nina couldn't sleep.

She lay in her apartment, watching the rain strike her window, thinking about Vincent. She thought about his quiet loneliness, the way he looked at art, the way his hand felt against hers on the pier, and the terrifying world of snakes and traitors that surrounded him every day.

She realized, with terrifying clarity, that she was in love with him.

It wasn't a crush, nor was it simple gratitude for what he had done for her mother. It was a deep, fierce, unyielding devotion to a man who had shown her his true heart beneath the armor of a mob boss.

At 2:00 AM on Friday morning, her phone rang on the nightstand.

Nina sat up instantly, snatching the phone off the receiver. "Hello?"

"Nina..."

It was Vincent. His voice sounded strained, heavy, and unusually distant, accompanied by the muffled sound of rain and a running engine in the background.

"Vincent! What's wrong? Where are you?"

"I am in the car outside your building," Vincent said softly. "I... I just wanted to see your light on before I left for New Jersey."

"Wait there," Nina said instantly, pulling off her covers. "Don't move. I'm coming down."

"Nina, no, it's late—"

She hung up the phone, threw on a heavy sweater and a raincoat, and ran down the stairs of her apartment building.

She burst through the front lobby doors into the cool, rain-slicked street.

A single black luxury sedan was parked by the curb beneath a flickering streetlamp. The engine was idling quietly, dark exhaust curling into the damp night air.

Nina walked toward the car, her heart pounding against her ribs.

She reached the rear passenger door, pulled it open, and stepped into the plush leather interior out of the rain, sliding into the backseat beside him.