Unprotected with the Mob Boss: A Dark Mafia Romance (Alekseiev Bratva), Fox, Nicole [spiritual books to read TXT] 📗

I need to give Lev a new deal—something he won’t be able to resist so I can get out of marrying him.

I could sleep with him.

God, I need to sleep.

Banging on the door. I jump, my heart racing in my chest. The police. He turned me in anyway.

How much will the women in prison hate me for being the daughter of the police chief? I’ve heard enough stories to know what goes on behind bars. Nothing pretty.

Will Elizabeth prosecute me and charge me with first-degree murder, just to prove to the public and the mayor that she wasn’t close to me? Her career will only go as far as her reputation takes her, and she wouldn’t think twice about erasing an insignificant black smear like me from her public record.

What if the public decides my father was an accomplice? Reporters can be vicious. Citizens are worse.

Whoever is at the door knocks again, softer now. Julia’s bed creaks as she tosses and turns.

I take a deep breath. I concentrate on moving forward, but it’s impossible to ignore my legs trying to fail underneath me. As I open the door, I prepare for a police officer to grab me, wrenching my arms behind me to handcuff me.

It’s a cop on my doorstep. But not just any cop.

“Ally,” my father says. I glance around him. No other policemen.

“What are you doing here?” I ask. His forehead scrunches up.

“It’s nice to see you too,” he says. “I kept calling you and you never picked up. You said you’d call when you got home. Did you get too drunk and fall asleep?”

The disapproval in his voice drapes over me. If he knew what happened, he’d never be able to look at me or himself again.

“I’m sorry,” I say, shaking my head. “I was just tired and the trial was on my mind.”

I press my thumb against my lips. I shouldn’t have mentioned the trial. Jeffrey Douglas could have been reported missing by now.

“I know that had to be hard on you.” He glances past me. “Do you have a visitor or something? Can I come in?”

“Sorry, right. Come in.” I step aside and my father walks in. He looks around the apartment like there’s going to be a naked man hiding in a corner somewhere. “I’m sorry about not calling, Dad.”

“I know you wouldn’t have just let me worry,” he says. “You’re a good daughter. You just need to be more responsible if you’re going to be a lawyer.”

“I’m not that good of a daughter,” I say. He claps his hand on my shoulder, giving it a small squeeze.

“You made a small mistake,” he says. “It doesn’t mean you’re bad. I just want you to think more about your future when you’re making decisions. It’s not even about calling me. It’s being aware of your actions.”

He lets his hand fall back to his side.

“I’m sorry,” I say, swallowing back the truth like bile. He sighs.

“Honestly, it’s not just you,” he says. “I’m under a lot of pressure right now. The mayor is breathing down my neck. She doesn’t understand what it’s like to have everyone constantly questioning you and deciding their own verdicts about who you are.”

“What?” I rub my neck, feeling where Jeffrey bruised it. “Why is the mayor questioning you? What happened? Are you being accused of something?”

“No, no, Ally, it’s not that.” He leans against the counter. “Not directly, at least. There are some allegations of police officers being bought by the Mafia. I’m certain it’s bullshit, but it’s always bullshit that ends people’s careers.”

He rubs his temple, his eyes looking down at the laminate counter, but I know his mind is twisted around the idea of losing his job.

“Your career isn’t going to end like that,” I tell him. “You’re going to retire after a long career and everyone is going to talk about how you were the best man for the job. They’ll put up a statue of you in front of city hall.”

“That’s some blind faith you have,” he jokes. He grabs me, pulling me into a hug. I hug him back. When he pulls away, he peers at me with the same dark irises as mine. “Are you okay? If you’re hungover, eggs can help with that. An egg sandwich is always a good plan.”

“I’m fine,” I say. “But I have to start getting ready. I have an appointment at Chanson Law School for a tour of the campus.”

“I can take you if you want.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” I say. “The last thing I want is for everyone to realize I’m the daughter of the police chief. I love you, Dad, but I want to earn it myself. Not because I’m fifty percent you.”

“I hear you, kiddo. Well, good luck with the tour.” He squeezes my arm and turns to leave. “Wish me luck with the mayor.”

“Good luck,” I say as he opens the door. He gives me a quick smile before slipping out, softly closing the door behind him.

In the past, I could count on my hands how many times I’d lied to my father. Now, I’ve lied so much that I’d break a polygraph. I’d fall apart on the witness stand.

A chill races down my spine.

I head toward the shower, though I’m fairly certain I’ll never be clean again.

* * *

I expected the house to be large. I was even prepared to see a mansion. But Lev’s house is massive. It’s white, two stories tall, and the property stretches far enough that he never has to worry about neighbors seeing him. The front-facing rooms have floor-to-ceiling windows with white trimming. The entrance has two columns on either side of it, granite and imposing.

After using the intercom system to talk to a woman and explain who I am, the massive, intricate metal gates to the property swing open. I drive in, parking near a black pick-up truck that’s twice the size of my car. He must be compensating for something.

As I approach the front doors,