His Mafia Prince
Chapter 180: Who Are You?

Chapter 180: Who Are You?

(WESLEY)

Sleeping with Jericho has to be the dumbest thing that I did.

I dont know what came over me. But then, I couldn’t have put logic past my my need to be fucked. I had been dreaming of the moment forever and it finally came. Jericho was too good to resist. Given another chance, I’m certain that I wouldn’t have made a better choice.

And yet, I let him talk me into doing the same thing with him all over again. Thinking of it alone makes me want to kick my feet with excitement. I’m hoping that my emotions aren’t too obvious that he can read them through my face.

My gaze flick to Arlo who is sitting beside me. We are sitting by the pool and Arlo’s attention hasn’t left his child even for a split second. Even though I understand the reason why he is being so clingy with the child, it makes my job redundant. Plus, I’d appreciate having the baby to focus on, because otherwise, all I think of is Jericho.

I can’t force myself to stop thinking about him. The way he pleased me, the way he fucked me. It was all too amazing. Never once have I had an experience like the one I had with Jericho. It was so good that it is beginning to get worrisome. I know that we bonded emotionally as well. That was a foolish move to allow, and it was also impossible to stop. Whenever I’m with Jericho, I feel like I connect with him more than I have ever connected with any alpha. I feel like I have known him forever.

When I remember that I allowed him to knot me, I get embarrassed. I acted like an omega in heat. What even makes matters worse is that I fell asleep in his arms. But the moment felt so right. He didn’t seem worried about it and I felt so safe and comforted in his arms. I wonder if that’s what it actually feels like when an alpha likes you.

Do you feel safe and protected just because you belong to them? I’ve never experienced anything quite like what I have experienced with Jericho. All these emotions swirling through me are confusing. I’m certain that Jericho and I will never be anything serious to each other. Even so, everything already feels serious.

I wonder what possessed me to think that it would be a good idea to go to his room tonight. Sleeping with him was already bad. We got away with it the first time, and chances are that we won’t get away with it the second time. Why would we tempt fate a second time? My guess is because I can’t say no to him. When I remember how good his face felt between my ass cheeks, a shiver works through me. My desire for Jericho is like a drug. He was once inside me and now my blood won’t stop itching.

Usually, I’m a safe and careful person. That is the way I’ve managed to stay alive ever since I escaped Papa and Danny. So, what the fuck am I doing sleeping with a prominent member of the Triple Triad syndicate? It’s hard to think of anything more reckless.

I’d simply prefer to bask in the glow of sex with Jericho. But honestly, after what happened at the park today, working for Miles and Arlo is getting more complicated. Now, with the Irish mob involved, the level of risk for me heightens. As if the Triple Triads didn’t disapprove of the Irish mafia already, the attempted hit on Jericho has their resentment spiking through the roof. There will be revenge. Of that, I am certain. The smart thing to do now is quit my job and find a way to eliminate myself from this situation immediately.

The idea of me leaving makes my heart sink, but it is probably for the best. Arlo has been doing better with baby Reign, thanks to my help and guidance. He is much more confident with the baby now. I guess all he needed was encouragement. He is a good omega; he has always been. The problem was that he doubted himself too much. He will be okay if I move on. But the thought of leaving Jericho behind makes my heart ache painfully. If I’m smart enough, I will go and have bomb sex with him one last time tonight then leave tomorrow before anyone wakes up.

Suddenly, I become aware of Arlo’s gaze stuck on me. I become self-conscious and straighten up. "Do you want me to hold the baby for a while?"

"Not yet." He shakes his head. "It’s alright. I think I will watch him for the rest of the day."

His response doesn’t surprise me as much. That means that I have nothing to do. My sole reason for being here is to take care of baby Reign. "Is there anything else that you want me t’ do?"

He smiles weakly. "No. I’m sorry I’m taking over your job. It’s just...."

"No... no. It’s okay. I understand." He could have lost his son just like that. It’s not easy to shake the fear that an instance like that instilled in him.

"Miles and I are supposed to go check on Sasha first thing tomorrow morning. I might need you to tag along so you can watch the baby. I’m too nervous to leave him behind, but then I’ll be too busy over there to watch him. I just want him near me now."

"Yeah. Sure. Whatever you need."

"Sasha is seething just as me and Miles are. We can’t let the Sharks Clan get away with attempting to kill our son and Jericho." He presses a light kiss on the baby’s forehead. "Those Irish assholes need to pay."

"Of course. What were they possibly thinking orchestrating such an attack?"

Honestly, I know quite well what they were thinking. The Sharks saw an opportunity to seize more power and they made a move. Obviously, they thought that murdering the baby and Sasha’s brother would cut the Triple Triads at the knees. In truth, that would have gutted Sasha, Miles and Arlo. But they aren’t the kind of people that crumble.

Now, the Sharks have waged war with the Triple Triads. Their odds of winning against the Italians are slim. They’ve fucked themselves up. Royally.

Arlo purses his lips. "The Irish don’t take time to think before they act. They are so violent and uncivilized. A very disorganized bunch. They have no hierarchy like us. They just act like barbarians. If they had a brain, I’m sure they wouldn’t have pulled such a foolish stunt against us."

I try to stifle my reaction or take his disgust against the Irish personally. I understand why they hate the Irish mobs, especially now. "The Sharks clan messed up big time. They get what they deserve." I sigh. "They started it."

"Yes." Arlo pins his gaze on me. It’s hard to not find those green eyes intimidating. "You’re Irish. Right?"

I stiffen. "What?"

"Your first name, Wesley. That’s Irish, no?"

I shift uneasily, "Uhm...yeah."

"Is Jones actually your last name?"

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