Ben Capra

"You're doing what?"

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair in frustration, "look, I... I have no fucking idea."

The anger and confusion written across his face was all too clear, and I looked away. I hated to admit the loss of control I was going through, but I just couldn't lose her.

There was something about her that just... had me very intrigued. Also, without her working for the mafia, I had began to realise, simple things would get relatively impossible.

"Ben, why are you only telling me now? Why not earlier?" My father sighed and shook his head in disappointment.

"I'm Don, you have no say in what I can and can't do," I glared at him, and he backed down with another sigh.

"You need to tell her," he then frowned.

"That I've been calling every damn place she's had an interview at, telling them to not hire her?" I raised my brows at him with zero amusement, and he understood how bad it sounded; how bad it was.

"Why would you even do something like that?" He questioned, shoulders relaxing.

I shrugged, genuinely not knowing why. It was a culmination of several reasons, really.

"Once I began understanding why she was so important to you and the mafia, business-wise, I realised I would have no idea how to continue running things without her."

"There are always other women who could take her place..." he pointed out, but I shook my head.

"Not ones like her. She bats her lashes and men fall at her feet," I began, beginning to grow frustrated, "haven't you noticed that? She's so damn alluring and good at what she does..."

For the past few weeks, I had been paying extra attention to what jobs Sofia was doing for us. I had also made sure that the men were the kind who couldn't cause her harm in a way that Mr Horan had been about to.

"She's quite incredible, yes," my father chuckled to himself, "but think of what's best for her. After so many interviews gone awry, she still hasn't given up. That says a lot about her and what she wants, doesn't it?"

My jaw clenched, feeling extremely conflicted. I was here to run a mafia, and even if my father considered Sofia as a daughter of sorts, what was best for her would come after what was best for the business.

I was also being a little selfish, I admit. I wouldn't even try to deny my attraction toward her, but had been forced to take a step back with her after she'd curved my kiss and rushed off. I regretted even thinking she'd let me kiss her after our dinner. It had been stupid and I had been thinking with my dick.

"I'm giving her easy men; ones she doesn't even need to leave the bloody restaurant with! She gets a shit-load of money for just flirting with them, I don't understand why she can't keep this job?" I shook my head, knowing very well my father could read between my lines when a knowing smile formed onto his lips.

"You like her, don't you?" He teased lightly, and my frustration only grew.

"I'm not twelve, dad..." I huffed and tugged at the roots of my hair, having everything under control but her.

You'd expect that being the Don of the most widespread and powerful mafia would cause me more trouble than one woman, but that wasn't the case.

"You're acting like you are, though. It's not fair to manipulate everything just to keep her working for us if she doesn't want to," he was being infuriatingly challenging, clearly caring a lot for Sofia.

I cast him another glare and stood up. I straightened my suit and calmly replied.

"She works for me, not for you. Don't forget that," my brows raised at him just a little, wanting to make sure he got the message, "and don't you dare start telling me what's fair and what isn't. You have a lot of blood on your hands. You forced me to quit my studies and take your place here, so I'll run things however I want to."

"Ben..."

I was taking steps towards the door of his study, ready to get the hell out of here.

"If you mention any of this to Sofia, I'll make you regret it," I turned back to give him one last look, proving once and for all that I was now above him; above the law.

My father sat down at his desk and sighed, most likely going over the mistakes he'd made in his life which ended up raising someone like me, "it's not a bad thing to admit that you like her, son."

"I don't like her! She's a bloody prostitute," I turned to shoot him a glare.

His brows furrowed, and the look that then formed onto his face had my interest skyrocketing.

"Did she tell you?"

"Tell me what?" I urged.

He sighed and motioned for me to have a seat again, "there's something you need to know about Sofia."