Claimed By The Mafia Boss
Cleo said, laughing as she wiggled free from my grasp.
Cleo walked over and opened the driver’s side door. “Wanna drive?” she asked, dangling the black key chain in front of me.
“Where’s Bobby?” I asked, suddenly realizing he wasn’t around.
He’d been waiting outside the salon for me, as he always did. The women inside often felt uneasy with him nearby, so he usually stayed in the car or stepped out.
I was just now noticing his absence, and it felt odd.
“The boys needed him for something,” Cleo explained casually, shrugging her shoulders.