Why Would You Read This

The Mafia Leader's Chicken Soup (Finale)

The minute we reached the top floor, Angelo collapsed.

"Babe what's wrong?" I gasped. Angelo shook his head.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

Small rivers of blood flowed out from under him and seeped out into the marble tiles.

"#notmyblood" mumbled Angelo. He clenched his sharply cut jaw tightly, stifling a moan of pain. I ran my fingers through this thick mop of messy dark hair, waiting until his breathing evened out.

After a few minutes, I helped Angelo get up again and helped him towards the bedroom. Standing in the dim light, I tried to tug off his blood stained leather jacket. Without warning, Angelo turned his head and retched violently.

Something clicked.

"You got drunk." I said smugly.

Angelo shook his head while still puking. "Nuh uh" he choked out, mid gag.

I felt unbelievably smug. The Mafia leader was about to get a hungover, just like us mortals.

"Amateur." I snorted, as Angelo began heaving for a second time and brought up the shots of sriracha we took while pregaming.

After he finished, he was panting like he had just run a mile. His white T shirt clung to his muscular back and his hair was plastered to his forehead from sweat.

"Just change and go to bed. You can sleep it off," I told him as I rubbed his back comfortingly.

"Stay with me?" He implored, his eyes wide.

"I'll be right back sweetie," I soothed. "I'll make you some chicken soup and come join you, ok?"

"No. I need you" sighed Angelo, collapsing on the bed. He scooted over and hopefully eyed the empty side of the bed.

I removed my heels and climbed in next to him. As I threw my arms around him and drew closer, I felt something long and hard poking me.

"Angelo I really don't think this is a good time," I gasped, while removing my dress.

Angelo's eyes narrowed. "Huh?"

By now I was completely ready to climb his tree. Mash his potatoes. Twist the cap off his beer bottle. Feed his sheep. You get the point.

I sexily moved my hands across the hard expanse of his upper body. Deftly, I removed the white t shirt he had on. And suddenly, my eyes fell on the long hard thing that had poked me.

There was a knife sticking out, between his ribs.

"Angelo why didn't you tell me you got stabbed?"

"I'm a Bad Boy©️."

"Is that why you never leave my toilet seat down either?"

He nodded sadly.

"I never wanted to be a bad boy. If it were up to me, I would be trekking the remote hills of Patagonia, feeding llamas and caring for the environment. But this is how this shitty author decided to write me."

I felt tears fall from my eyes. I too, would give anything just to be normal instead of being stunningly beautiful, smart, and loved by all.

"I know what will help you for sure," I said, pressing a kiss into Angelo's hair. "I'll be right back with my special chicken soup."
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I had to talk to Pântéñë. I am remembering something and I need to know for sure what it is. I had to figure out what was nagging me so much.