Too Late For The Mafia's Boss Love

I didn’t wait for his permission as I walked toward the door.

From behind, I heard him offering me to work, but I dismissed it as my imagination. To be honest, Christopher never bothered to share a car with me.

We’d been together for eight years and used to go side by side. Undoubtedly, our relationship had grown cold. It seemed like it was just another transaction in this bloody business.

The Office

By the time I arrived at the Wilson Headquarters, the whispers had already begun.

The sleek, glass-walled building was a front for one of the most dangerous criminal empires in the city.

Every cubicle was guarded by Christopher’s men in disguise. Their sharp eyes were constantly scanning for threats.

Minutes later, Christopher arrived. He stepped out of the black luxury car with his secretary, Scarlett. Her soft laughter echoed through the lobby. It grabbed the attention of every pair of eyes.

Scarlett. The thorn in my side.

The whispers grew louder as Christopher walked with her into the building. Everyone there knew we were a couple, but Scarlett’s presence had begun to blur the lines.

Christopher was involved with her in ways he never was with me. He used to give her rides, share meals, and even grant her access to his restricted areas.

Ignoring them, I made my way to the public area, where the communal printer was located.

I was just copying documents and pretended not to notice the glances my colleagues threw my way. They wanted a show, a spectacle—a sign that I was cracking under the weight of Scarlet's growing influence.

But I refused to give them the satisfaction.

The whispers grew bolder as I walked past two of the subordinates.

“Ms. Levy is too cold,” one of them muttered, loud enough for me to hear. “Men like women who are delicate, like Scarlett.”

By cold they meant that I never gave them gossip. Neither did I give them a show of my and Christopher's relationship.

The moment they noticed me, both of them fell silent, but the damage was done. I kept walking, my heels clicking against the polished floor. Eventually, I returned to my cabin.

On my desk, my resignation letter and a black velvet pouch were placed on the table. I put the pouch into my pocket, along with the letter, and made my way to Connor’s office.

When I reached outside Christopher’s cabin, I didn’t bother knocking. I pushed the door open and startled the two of them.

Scarlett was sitting on the edge of Christopher's desk. Her doe-eyed expression turned to fear as she saw me.

“Victoria, this isn’t—” Scarlett began, her voice trembling.

“Out,” I snapped, cutting her off.

Chirsptopher’s eyes narrowed. There was a warning flashing across his face. “Victoria, watch yourself.”

Ignoring him, I reached into my pocket and tossed the black pouch onto the desk. It landed with a soft thud, spilling its contents—a pair of black stockings.

“Next time you sneak into my house,” I said coldly, “don’t leave your things behind.”

Scarlett’s face turned crimson as she picked up those stockings.“Th-thank you, Ms. Levy. I’ll be more careful.”

Before I could say anything, she ran from the cabin. Her heels clicked frantically against the floor.

The door closed behind her, leaving Christopher and me alone. The tension in the room was suffocating. He stood there silently. His towering frame cast a shadow over me.

“What are you trying to prove?” he asked, his voice dangerously quiet.