The Stalker Match (Mafia Matchmaker #2)

Chapter 1 Lexi

ONE

LEXI

Wildcat: Hiya, Handsome! You’ve been quiet the last few days, just checking in on you!

I’ve deleted the same message at least ten times over the last twenty-four hours, each time too afraid of sounding desperate.

It’s not normally this way. Usually, I’m the one on the receiving end of the nonstop messages from clingy men who have nothing better to do than message their favorite cam girl.

Yep. This is definitely a first for me.

When I started my account, I did it as an act of rebellion.

But it’s grown into more than that over the years.

An escape.

Something I have complete control over.

Something that’s just for me and has nothing to do with the family I was born into.

Now, I want to make something perfectly clear. I love my mom and brother more than anything in this world. But I don’t love living my life in constant danger because I happened to be born into one of the largest Mafia families in the country.

And the bonus is, if for some reason I had to start over away from the family, I would have savings of my own and wouldn’t have to rely on Cruz or our mom.

I tap my thumbs against my phone screen and sigh.

I’m pathetic.

That’s the only word I can think of to describe a twenty-seven-year-old woman who has had exactly two crushes in her life.

My brother’s best friend.

And a stranger on the internet who I don’t even know what he looks like.

I groan and throw my phone onto the comforter beside me.

I need a life.

Shoving myself off the edge of the bed, I go in search of my temporary roommate.

My brother and sister-in-law are on their honeymoon, which means I’m babysitting my favorite—only—nephew.

Mr. Whiskers, formerly Asshole, is the sweetest orange boy to ever exist, except for when it comes to his Mafia boss owner, whom he regularly bullies.

I find him sunning himself on the couch, his body stretched out in a position I fail to see as comfortable, but he’s perfectly content.

Perching beside him, I give him a quick pat and pull my laptop toward me, tapping it to life.

My emails pop up, and my chest tightens when I see the subject line of the top one.

Mafia Matchmaker

You have a partial match!

After seeing how head over heels in love Cruz and Riley are, I decided it was time to give it a shot. What’s the worst that could happen?

Cruz made sure I wouldn’t end up at the altar with a stranger the same way he and Riley did, which makes it more like a dating site than a one-way ticket to an arranged marriage.

I swallow heavily and force a deep breath into my lungs. I’d hoped for more than a partial match if I’m honest.

Riley and Cruz had a stupidly high compatibility, one of the highest the service has ever seen. But it figures I would find an average match to go with the rest of my average existence.

Living in my brother’s shadow, watching my father constantly belittle my mother until he took it too far and found himself on the wrong end of Cruz’s gun, has made me more afraid of relationships than I would like to admit.

It’s why I haven’t dated since my freshman year of college. Why I prefer the company of strangers on the internet who are only interested in my thirst traps.

It’s safe.

Impersonal.

Lonely.

I nibble on my lower lip as my eyes bounce over the contents of the email, my heart beating erratically in my chest.

A Las Vegas Mafia boss has returned a partial match, but his details are vague. I guess that will come later?

It’s hard to know the process, considering it will be so different from what I witnessed my brother go through, but the fact he’s out of state has my anxiety skyrocketing.

I wouldn’t call myself an anxious person, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have triggers, and one of them is leaving Mom and Cruz.

After what we went through together, what we survived at the hands of my father, it’s hard to think of a world where I wouldn’t see them every day.

But my options are limited where dating is concerned.

If I want to stay in Seattle and remain close to my family, I can’t date an outsider. It wouldn’t be safe for them, and it would be a risk to Cruz.

I sigh and shove the laptop away, burying my face in Mr. Whisker’s fur.

He lets out a soft meow and nuzzles my cheek with his cold nose.

I don’t know how my brother ever hated this little guy, even if I have seen him bully the big bad Mafia boss on more than one occasion.

Maybe I should just get a cat and be done with it.