Loving the Ruthless Mafia King

g, disoriented, before realizing that the noise wasn't stopping. Cursing and the sound of cupboards slamming shut cut throug

se of how exhausted she was, maybe because she'd actually dared to hope things might improve after the recent scare with the mafia. But as she drew closer to the kitchen, her sto

s muttering only getting louder as he fumbled aroun

she saw him reach into the back, his hand emerging with her shoebox-the faded cardboard box that held every dollar she'd

ng as she tried to approach him calmly.

making his gaze heavy and unfocused. "Your money?" he slurred, voice laced with

aid, stepping closer, her hands outstretched

ox just out of her reach. "I work too, you know! I work hard. But

esperation. "I'm not saying that, Dad. I just... we need th

muttered, counting the small, crumpled bills with a sneer. "This won't even cover the beer I've had to put up with tonight

r back, his grip tightening around the money as he pocketed every last bill. The shove sent her stumbling backward,

, he muttered to himself, his fingers clutching the money w

voice barely more than a whisper. "We barely have enough to make it through

he struggled to keep her composure. "I don't want to be tough, Dad. I just... I wa

ven seem to

a hand as if to stop him, but he didn't look back. He barely even acknowledged her existence, his focus already elsewhere. He fumbled w

hicker and colder in his absence. Sera stayed where she was, her knees tucked up to her ches

. She didn't want to cry; she was tired of crying. But as she sat there, alone in the darken

n a shaky breath as she let the numbness settle over her like a shield. She w