✔️ MALEDETTO | 18 +

Chapter 8

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I huffed. Seriously now, my name was the least of my worries, considering all the shit I still had to fix in life.

Calina's pov

"Why? Is it that bad?" I asked him with a frown. "What do you think, Hooker?" he asked me back with a chuckle.

"I don't know," I told him with a shrug, looking at him, "it doesn't sound that bad for me, after some time you get used to it, I guess."

"Were you ever married, Hooker?" he asked me next, making me tense. "Why are you asking?" I asked him cautiously, getting a little nervous, thinking he might know who I was. After all, I got quite famous in the Mafia world with my actions in the past.

"Just curious about something," he muttered with a shrug. "About what?" I asked him with a frown.

"If you hated your boyfriend, your daughter's father, because he didn't want to marry you? And you had to stay with your maiden name? Even after given him your daughter?" he asked me with a grin, I snorted at his assumption.

If he only knew that my maiden name was Ivanov, one of the strongest name in Russia, and that I was married to the Italian mobster, he'd probably either kick me out of the car and drive away, wanting nothing to do with me, or hand me over to my nightmares. And in all honesty, I'd rather stay Hooker for the rest of my life than be a Morelli or an Ivanov again.

"You're mocking me because of my last name, but I bet yours isn't phenomenal either, what's your name?" I asked him while he was slowing the car as he turned left.

"Mateo," he muttered shortly. "What's your full name?" I asked him.

"Why do you ask?"

"Well, it's time for me to mock you a little too ..."

"Too bad I can't tell you, pretty lady," he told me.

"Why?"

"You're really asking a drug dealer why he can't tell you his full name?" he asked me back. "Right, I get it," I muttered. "You do?" he asked me. "You don't want me to go with your name to the cops," I told him.

"Not only pretty, but also smart I see ..." he mocked me.

"Why are you calling me pretty lady after I already told you my name?" I asked him curiously. "Because you're very pretty," he mumbled with a shrug.

I laughed lightly.

"What? What's funny?" he asked me.

"The irony that you love the cover without knowing what's inside," I muttered, sighing. My back was full of scars, even if they faded away by time, they were still there. And if he knew I was scarred, I bet he wouldn't find me pretty anymore.

"You seem nice too, I'd love to meet you if we met in different circumstances," he told me kindly, misunderstanding what I had mean.

"Are you hitting on me?"

"Well, you're pretty enough so ..." he claimed but in a joking way, not making the situation any awkward.

Smiling and frowning, I looked at him, trying to figure him out. His behavior was too nice for a drug dealer. In general, he has acted like a nice guy since I met him. I expected him to harass me, look at me perverted, and say nasty things to me.

I thought he would be hard to convince or would want anything in return for taking me to see his boss. However, he just agreed to take me to his boss without taking advantage of my situation after I told him about my situation.

"Why are you looking at me like that? Are you interested in me, perverted lady?" he asked me, bringing me back from my thoughts, making me gasp.

"Excuse me? How do I look at you?" I asked with a frown, feeling a little offended after he called me pervert.