Her Mate Turns out to be the Mafia King

a's

hat my classes don't start until tomorrow, but I was s

again, so I text Isabella to see if she can pick me up. She had an a

her a few seco

ten minutes! Are you o

ourse. N

see you in a little wh

down at

icked me as a friend. I'm a lot more quiet and standoffish than her, but what do they say?

nd sit down to wait. A few whispers float my way, bu

recognize. The message hits me like an arrow to the chest. Every word is vile

to cry in public. Another message comes in from the same num

is a lo

darker than any I'

is why he still texts me from his personal number. This is someone els

of my name and I see Isabella waving

go even after her father offered to buy her a new one. Honestl

ead her way, but I keep

han necessary. If I could have gone to a different college so that I could escape my pa

ng me in a warm embrace. Her hug serves as a remedy, gradually dispelling the heaviness that clung to me earlier. A smile tugs at my

e moment, she plants a smacking kiss on my cheek. The unexpected contact makes me scrunch my face in mock horror, my hand instinct

my love Mila!"

yance to match her theatrics.

e navigates the car out of the parking lot. "So you have no class to

s she smirks at me. "

head back with a groan. How did I le

into the local mall, the wheels crunching on the asphalt. A

orture that has become a recurring event, and today is no exception. It always ends with her buyin

hidden in the back of my closet. She's always too distracted to notice I've never worn any of them and I'm glad. It would break my

friend, she will work her way into our friendship and ruin it. She'l

able. The mall's entrance beckons, and Isabella's

bit that I'm dragging my feet. I pulled on a hoodie from my duffle bag and pulled

ike this, I'm bound to run

ky, but luck always