A fake priest and a Sicilian mob boss at odds. What could possibly go wrong?
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Roman is a life long slacker and a hardcore gambling addict. After learning there's a hit on him, not to mention his fiancé just dumped him two days before their weddi...
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"So, did you miss me?"
Roman tried his hardest to glare Saint to death, but when it was obvious the prick wouldn't die, he said, "Are you quite done?"
Saint didn't say anything but that didn't stop Roman. The look he aimed at the mob boss was all wrath. "I want out of this place. I have rights you asshole!"
Saint's eyebrows drew together. "Is that all? You interrupted an important business meeting."
Roman pursed his lips. "That's all."
"Federico." One word from the boss, and one of the men hovering outside Roman's door peered inside.
"Yes, boss?"
"Move him up to the west wing." Just like that, the prick was gone.
Well, that wasn't so hard.
With a wary expression, Roman watched as the so called Federico approach his room. The guy was broad and toned, but not overly so. He looked like he could've been ex-military. Roman wondered if he could take the guy in a fist fight. Desperate times called for desperate measures.
"Let's go, Father." He actually beamed. A nice smile too.
Roman willed himself to follow his escort through dimly lit hallways up to an elevator.
Once they came to a stop at the fifteenth floor, Federico announced. "Right. Here we are." He watched Roman's jaw drop at the high quality furnishings with opulent, expensive touches, attention to aesthetic detail and original art hanging on the walls. "Beautiful place, yeah?"
"Maybe if I wasn't a prisoner I would've appreciated it more."
Roman barely caught the faint tug at the corner of Federico's mouth as he led them further inside. He smiled and shook his head. "Try not to piss off the boss while you're here. He's been in a bit of a mood lately." The smile slowly faded. "This will be your room now."
Looking away, Roman did a quick sweep of the space with his eyes. The new room had big windows that actually opened. He could fit between the space easily but the fall he'd have to endure would be fatal. It wasn't worth trying.
"I could get used to this." Roman told Federico.
"Well, suit yourself."
"Does this mean I'll be leaving soon?"
Federico stared, bowled over by Roman's question. Then he laughed gruffly. "Father you're not leaving this place." He looked at Roman with an ounce of pity in his eyes. "I'm not quite sure you really understand the gravity of your situation. You can't take from La Cosa Nostra and expect to just walk away without consequences."
Roman didn't utter a single word after that. He just remained quiet and kept his head down.
"Just so you know Saint's room is just a wall away from yours. Tell you what?" Federico continued. "You were better off in the basement."
