The Mafia Kings Plaything

Chapter 4: Two Sides Of Nerdy Liam

Katarina POV - Inside the Bookstore

"Kat, you've been staring at that same page for twenty minutes."

Selena's voice barely registered. I was lost somewhere else. The bookstore was quiet.

Madame had left hours ago, leaving just me and Selena to close up for the night.

I sat behind the counter with a book open in my lap—one of those dark, filthy romance novels we kept hidden in the back section. The kind with a half-naked man on the cover that would get us fired if Madame caught us reading them.

But I needed the distraction.

After this morning—the red car, those tattooed men who knew my name—I needed to forget. Even if just for a moment.

The book was still in my lap. The same filthy page with the same aching feeling between my legs.

"He slammed into her, stretching her wide as she moaned his name. Her hands clawed the desk, her body shaking as his cock drove deeper, deeper…"

I read the sentence again. And again.

Not because it was new. But because it made my body forget everything else.

My eyes burned down the page. My thighs clenched, pressing together under the counter stool. I shifted, my knee bumping the wooden shelf as I inhaled sharply.

God.

This one was filthier than the last. Exactly what I needed.

My panties were already damp, the soft cotton sticking to me with every twitch, teasing me. I shouldn't be reading this here. I really shouldn't.

But I couldn't stop.

Every line made my heart beat faster. Not because of the words. But because of who I kept imagining.

Him.

Not the fake fantasy man in the book.

The Don.

His cold green eyes. His full mouth. The way his hand gripped my tits like he owned them. The way he didn't ask before taking—he just knew.

I bit my lower lip, hard. My nipples ached against the inside of my bra. It was shameful, disgusting, the way my body reacted just thinking about him.

I'd never been touched like that. Never kissed like that..

I shifted again on the stool, the seam of my jeans pressing deliciously where I needed it most. I squeezed my thighs together tighter.

What would he feel like inside me? Would he be rough? Would he tie me down? Would he hold my wrists while he slammed into me over and over until I screamed his name?

A little moan slipped out before I could catch it. My palm slid down, slow and shaky, hovering just over the button of my jeans. One little touch. One little press. I could already feel how wet I was. For him.

I bit down on my fist, heartbeat hammering—

"Kat?"

My head jerked up.

Shit.

Liam stood in the doorway. He was one of our regular customers—came in every week for manga and graphic novels. Usually shy and awkward, always polite.

I scrambled to shut the book and shove it beneath the register, praying he hadn't noticed the way my cheeks were flushed or how I was practically squirming on the stool.

"Hey," I said hoping my voice didn't sound breathless. "You, uh, need something?"

He gave a little crooked smile.

His hair was messy as always, but his clothes were different. Neater. Like he'd changed who he was today.

"Hi, Katarina." He stepped forward, his hand twitching slightly before disappearing into his jacket pocket. "You... looked focused."

"You were really into that," he said softly, his voice lower than usual.

"I—just reading inventory stuff," I lied.

"I saw the cover. That wasn't inventory."

My heart fluttered with embarrassment, but something in his tone made it stutter with fear too. He stepped forward, slowly and stared not at my face but at my throat or maybe my shoulders.

"You smell different today," he said, voice was strangely low.

My stomach felt weird…why was messy Liam acting strange?.

"I—um—showered?" I offered, forcing a little laugh.

He tilted his head. "No. It's not soap." He stepped closer, and I instinctively gripped the counter between us. "It's... Arousal... And sweet."

"Liam, are you okay?"

He blinked. Then he smiled suddenly, like a light switch being flipped. "Yeah! Totally. I'm fine." His voice was pitched up now, lighter, nerdier. Like the Liam I knew.

But i felt something was wrong in my gut. The way his posture dropped an inch and his lips twitching every secound.

He placed a graphic novel on the counter. "They added volume six," he said in that easy tone again, "I thought of you when I saw it."

I scanned it slowly. "Thanks," I said. "That's sweet."

He leaned forward. "Do you want to hang out later? I could—cook."

Cook?

I swallowed. "I'm staying at Selena's tonight."

"Right. Right." He nodded too fast. "Sleepover. Girls. Secrets. Lying."

My breath caught. "What?"

His eye twitched again and his smile left his face. "You don't have to be scared of me," he said quietly. "But... we don't like when you think about other men."

I froze.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Liam?" I whispered. "Who's we..Did you do drugs or something?"

"Nothing…I’m sorry...Just kidding." back into that nerdy tone again.

He pulled a folded paper from his back pocket and set it down. "This is for you."

I stared at it.

"What is it?"

His voice had dropped calmer now. "You don't have to be scared of me."

I didn't say anything. I just watched him back away, turn, and walk out the door.

I waited three whole minutes before I reached for the paper.

It was folded perfectly with crisp edges, like someone had measured them. I opened it slowly.

In neat handwriting, it read:

"Don't let the other one see this. I'll keep you safe. But I can't hold him back forever." —L

I stared at it.

Other one? Who the hell was "other one"?

I turned the paper over. On the back, in completely different handwriting—messier, more aggressive:

"He's lying. I'm the one protecting you." —Also L

Two messages. Two different handwriting styles. Both signed L.

Something was very wrong with Liam.

I slid the note into my bra and glanced toward the front window. Liam was standing outside on the sidewalk hitting his haed with his hands.

A chill ran down my spine

The store was quiet again. I looked around and the light outside was fading. It was getting dark. Selena was already packing up, organizing her things to leave for the evening.

I checked the time—5:30 p.m.

I was supposed to text Mateo my older brother so he wouldn't worry. I hadn't even told him I was staying at Selena's tonight.

When I finally checked my phone, I saw multiple missed calls from him.

I started panicking immediately Mateo never called this much. Why didn't I notice earlier? Why didn't I pick up?

I dialed his number, but it went straight to voicemail.

This was strange. Mateo was always in touch, especially in a city like this where dangerous gangs operated in broad daylight.

I quickly sent him a text, then stared at my phone screen, waiting for a reply that never came. I could feel the unease building in my stomach.

I looked at Selena, who was already at the door, her bag flung over her shoulder.

"What's going on?" she asked, her voice low. She'd picked up on the change in my mood.

I shook my head. "I'm not sure. But it's weird. Mateo's not answering."

I stared down at my phone, waiting for a reply that never came.

Then I saw the last message he'd sent:

Mateo: If he shows up, don't let him in.

My blood went cold.