MY Possessive Mafia Men novel Chapter 165

Chapter 164: We 

Need To Get Her Back 

Chapter 165: We Need To Get Her Back 

Riccardo 

“I am available whenever, I know what I am leaning towards, so if Kingston agrees with me, then it is two against one. Just saying.” Marshall muttered. 

That was actually comforting to know, this time, I couldn’t be the one making the decision, because if it backfired again, then I wouldn’t have to shoulder that burden a second time. 

“Fair enough.” I stood up from my seat. 

“I am going back to my office to make a drink, do you want some?” I asked. 

“I am good, I actually need to get going. I want to send Angelia my notes from class as soon as possible so she can catch up before Monday.” 

“Will she be back at school on Monday?” I asked, my eyebrows raised. 

“How will that go?” He grimaced. 

“It will probably be emotional torture.” He sighed. 

“You are not the only one falling for her, you know. I am pretty sure Kingston is too but fuck if he will ever admit to it.” 

will the of s 

“Oh, I know. It is impossible not to miss the googly eyes you make at her.” I chuckled, but it tapered off as I thought about our situation. 

We can’t lose her. 

“I am inclined to agree about Kingston, though. He will never admit anything to us but maybe, in time, he will open up to her about it. If he gets the chance, that is.” 

“Have 

ou noticed how much he has changed since Angelia came into our lives?” He asked. 

“Yes, she is healing him without her even knowing she was doing it. Of course, the change might be minuscule, but it is definitely there.” 

It was absurd how little time she had needed to make noticeable change with Kingston. He talked more around her, he cooked more for other people than himself and I had even seen the beginning of a smile on his face. Kingston and smile did not belong in the same sentence, but they were now. Marshall sighed again as he got up from his seat. 

“We need to get her back.” 

how to do that without pushing her further away.” He nodded in agreement. 

“Text me when and where you want to meet tomorrow after you have talked to Kingston.” He said over his shoulder. 

It wasn’t until I got to my office that I let go of the little strength I had left in my body. I was so god–damned tired, there nights without much sleep to go on would do that to you. For the most part, I could get away with minimal rest, but when it was only a couple of hours 

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Chapter 164: We Need To Get Her Back 

per night, it stretched even my limits. Mixing a dash of rum and coke, I slumped onto my couch. My office was simple in design, the dark oak that was a recurrence at the club was also found here with an oak desk, table, private bar and a floor–to–ceiling shelving system. I had a comfortable seating area, along with the standard desk space. The mini fridge behind the bar provided ice–cold water bottles. I had everything I would need here. Well, not everything. 

I didn’t know how much time I had spent in my office, I just knew it was a lot. This building was my home, it was where I usually wanted to spend my time, being productive and making sure everything ran smoothly. Before Angelia, this was the place where I wanted to be, but now, the tasks I did felt almost empty. The success of the hard work I did wasn’t enough to get dark rewards anymore, going home to a dark apartment wasn’t a reward, waking up alone wasn’t a reward and eating breakfast alone wasn’t a reward. It was starting to feel like a hollow life, I had begun to feel the same before her but it stood out to me even more clearly now that I knew what it felt like having someone who filled the emptiness. I had my friends, sure but it was Angelia that made me feel less lonely. The feeling of my phone vibrating in my pocket dragged me out of my miserable thoughts, one looked at the screen and I answered. 

“Hello grandma, why are you calling this late? Are you okay?” I sounded ragged even to my ears and my grandma quickly picked up on it. 

“I am good. I just had a feeling I should call you. How are you doing, my precious?” Her voice soothed me through the phone almost 

instantly. 

My grandma always had the ability to sense when I needed to talk, I would have found the notion almost creepy if it hadn’t been such a 

comfort. 

“I messed something up and I don’t know how to fix it.” I confessed. 

I never kept anything from her, not even about what kind of business Iran. They were pretty liberal and never judged. 

“Is this about a girl?” She asked. 

“Yes, an important girl.” 

“Is she your honey bunny?” 

I hesitated before answering, not because I was unsure, but because it was a big deal to share with her. She knew exactly what it would mean. Honey bunny was a common nickname, but in our family, it was used as a special endearment meant for a special someone. The one you would want to spend the rest of your life with, kind of special. 

“Yes, and I screwed everything up.” 

“Nonsense, if she truly is your bunny, you will work things out. I have faith and you should too.” 

“I really hope so.” I said as I exhaled deeply. 

“How is grandpa doing?” 

“He is doing well, he still spends time each day playing the trumpet.” I smiled at that, remembering countless times when I sat in the basement and listened to him and his band practice.