Page 303 of Don’t Say Mafia

Me: Talk to you later, Jace-face.

Jace: I’m screenshotting your emotional crisis for blackmail later.

Me: Try it, and I’ll put a tracker in your neck.

Jace: Kinky. Maybe I’ll like that.

I put our chat on mute and then set my phone down on the table.

Eden thought I was the thing that could destroy her, but she didn’t understand yet . . .

I’d already decided I was the only thing allowed to.

CHAPTER 27

EDEN

Istepped out of Jagger’s room wearing the shirt I’d had on yesterday and a pair of black leggings that had mysteriously appeared on the bed while I was in the shower.

Jagger was waiting for me in the hallway, fully dressed, thankfully. He wasn’t wearing a suit for once, but the dark jeans, black Henley, and boot combo he had on were just as devastating.

If trouble ever decided to take human form, it would look exactly like him.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice sounding hoarse as he stared at me hungrily, as though I was wearing lingerie instead of a basic tee and leggings.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“To get you new clothes.”

“I don’t need⁠—”

Jagger closed the distance before I could finish arguing and cupped my jaw, kissing me and shutting down any more of my protest. When he pulled back, his forehead rested briefly against mine. “You do,” he murmured.

Not giving me time to think, he laced his fingers through mine and started walking, tugging me gently down the hall and into his private elevator. Instead of heading down to his garage, though, we ended up on the casino floor . . . where I worked.

I kept my head down, my cheeks burning as some of my coworkers stared at us as we passed. I didn’t blame them for looking at us. My hair was still wet, I didn’t have any makeup on, and I was holding hands with the hottest man alive—who also happened to own the place where we worked.

A fact that I’m sure some of them knew because most people were not as oblivious as me.

Jagger didn’t seem to notice all the stares . . . or maybe he was just used to them and didn’t care.

“Eden!”

The voice cut through the low hum of slots and chatter. I looked up and saw Leigh weaving through a row of blackjack tables, a tray tucked under one arm, and her eyes wide. She broke into a jog the last few steps, stopping short when she saw Jagger. Her gaze darted between us, then landed on our joined hands.

“Oh my gosh,” she breathed. “I heard what happened. The fire at your place. Are you okay?”

I blinked. Right. I’d had to text a supervisor about my uniform last night because it had burned in the fire. I’d tried to keep it vague . . . but apparently vague didn’t travel far in a place like this. With Ryan’s death just happening and then my apartment . . . I was sure I was keeping everyone talking. I could only imagine what they would be saying after today.

“Yeah,” I said quickly. “I’m fine.”

Leigh stepped closer, ignoring Jagger completely now. “Listen, I just wanted to say . . . my roommates and I have an opening if you need somewhere to stay. The rent’s cheap. Like actually cheap. We’ve got an extra room, and it’s nothing fancy. No pressure, just . . . if you need somewhere to go.”

The offer hit me like a lifeline and a brick at the same time. Cheap rent. Roommates. A way out of this glittering cage Jagger was beginning to build around me.

I looked up at him just as I opened my mouth to answer.

Jagger hadn’t said a word yet; he hadn’t even tightened his grip on my hand. But he had gone perfectly still except for his thumb, which was brushing over my knuckles like he was warning me.