Chapter 8. Marry My Heir

“So, you do remember me. Excellent!” the boss said with a warm smile that showed off the wrinkles around the corners of his eyes.

I have to say that I did not expect the kind-hearted uncle to be a mafia boss. In other words, I did not expect the mafia boss to be a smiley uncle figure.

“Yeah…umm…hello…once again, I guess,” I stammered when I finally found my tongue.

“Have a drink, dear. You look a little tired from the trip. It must have been a long one…” the boss said as he gestured to a glass or water that was placed on the coffee table.

“Thank you…” I whispered as I reached for the glass.

“Did my men treat you roughly? I did order them to be gentle with you…as gentle as handling a feather,” the boss asked, suddenly his gaze was serious.

For some reason, I figured that I shouldn’t tell him that they bounded my hands and feet and taped my mouth shut.

“I’m fine…thank you. More importantly, why…am I here?” I asked in confusion. I mean, there’s