Arranged Mafia Marriage

Michael

After she walks away from the door, I wait for a few minutes, just to make sure she’s not in hearing range, then I push Larissa away.

She falls back on her ass. “Hey,” she protests, “I haven’t even started.”

“It doesn’t matter.” I zip up my pants and stand up, move past her and head to the door. I grip the handle, only to stop myself. Let her go; let her leave. That’s what you wanted, and that’s what you are getting. She is leaving you, and it’s the only way for her to be safe.

I sense Larissa stand up and move toward me. She places her hand on my shoulder and I shake it off.

“Let her go,” she murmurs. “You and I can have a lot more fun together, like we used to. The bitch has no idea how lucky she was to have had you even for a little time. Now that she’s gone-”

“Shut up,” I turn on her and she stumbles back. “Shut the fuck up.”

She pales. “I… I…only meant-”

“Get out,” I jerk my chin toward the door, “and make sure she doesn’t see you or hear you.” She nods, then rushes to the door. I push the door shut, then walk to the bathroom. I glance at myself in the mirror, stare into my reflection. You asshole. You complete idiot. What have you done? I blew any chance of her ever being with me again. I shattered her heart… And so soon after the loss of our child. What is wrong with me? In one swoop, I had broken her trust in me… A trust I’ll never be able to rebuild. I’ve ensured that she’ll hate me, and treat me as what I am: her kidnapper, her captor… Her husband, who had cheated on her with another woman.

“Minchia!” Only when my fist connects with the mirror do I realize that I have swung at it. The pain slices up my arm as blood drips down and splatters on the sink and down on the floor. I gaze at the fragments of my reflection in the shattered mirror.

An hour later, Seb and Christian arrive with Aurora in tow. When I had finally pulled my head out of my ass, I had called Seb who’d, in turn, contacted Christian, and the two had turned up with her. Christian hands the medical bag over to Aurora and she approaches me. She pulls up a chair, then unrolls the towel I’d wrapped around my hand and grimaces.” I’ll need to stitch this.”

“Do it.” I turn my attention to where Christian is positioned by the doorway watching her. She cleans and disinfects the cuts. “This will hurt,” She glances up at me. “Do you want an anesthetic to numb the area before I-”

“No,” I growl, “just get on with it.”

Christian shuffles his feet. I stare at him and he glares back. Stronzo seems to have taken a shine to the fair doctor. At least, it seems to have taken his mind off of Xander. Xander…

The band around my chest tightens. The needle digs into my skin and I wince. The doctor peers up at me, and I jerk my chin at her to continue stitching. She firms her jaw, focuses on the stitching once more.

I sense Christian scowling at me, and I arch an eyebrow. He seems like he’s about to say something, then firms his lips. He watches as she stitches me up. When she’s done with her task, she cuts the last thread. She bandages my right hand, then begins to pack up her things.

“Thank you,” I mutter.

“Try and keep it dry, and I am giving you a prescription for antibiotics to prevent any infections.” She hands over a sheet of paper, then rises to her feet. “May I speak with Karma before I leave?”

“No,” I say in a hard voice, and she blinks.

“No?” She scowls, “Why not?”

“Because she’s not here.”

“Not here?” She searches my features, “She’s recovering from a serious accident, and she’s not here? Where did she go? She should be resting, she-”

“Basta,” I raise my hand, then turn to Christian, “get her out of here.”

“Get me out of here?” She firms her lips, “I am not some piece of luggage that he owns, that you can command him to move me around, you know.”

“Not yet,” Christian drawls.

She turns on him, “What’s that supposed to mean?” She scowls, “If you think you have any claim on me, you are sadly mistaken.”

“It’s because of me that you and your family are still alive, make no mistake,” Christian retorts.

Her face pales. She draws in a breath as he walks over and snatches up her bag, “Let’s go, Doc.”

She scowls at him, then back at me, “Not until I am sure that Karma is safe.”

I glare at her, “She’s my wife. Of course, she’s safe.”

“She’s your wife. That’s why I am worried about her.”

I rise to my feet and she takes a step back. She bumps into Christian, who reaches out to steady her. She pulls away from him, tucks her elbows into her sides and tips up her chin, “What did you do to her?”

“I told you, woman. I didn’t do anything to her. She’s safe-much safer than she was here.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I drag my fingers through my hair, “Look, she left for her own good. If she were here, she’d only be a target for our rival clans, or whoever it is that was behind the blast that blew up her car.”

She swallows, “You…you think they are going to target her again?”

“I have no doubt they are going to strike again, and as long as she was here with me, she would have been their focus.”

“That’s why you let her go?”

“I told her to leave because we’re done.”

“Done?”

“Our marriage is done, over, finito, kaput,” I slice my hand through the air, “and that is all I am going to say about that particular topic.”

She opens her mouth, then shuts it. “How can I reach her?”

“You can’t.”

“She’s my friend. I want to get in touch with her and make sure that she is safe.”

“If you reach out to her, you’ll only draw attention to where she is. Do you understand that?”

She blows out a breath, then wraps her arms around her waist, “You were wrong to let her go.”

Don’t I know it? I jerk my chin at Christian and he grips her shoulder. “Let’s go, Doc,” he says, his voice gentle. “As soon as I get any word about her, I’ll let you know.”

She turns to him, “Promise?”

He nods. Their eyes meet, hold. A flush tinges her cheeks. She pulls away from him, then walks to the door, leaving him staring after her.

Seb snorts, “Go on then. You’ve been called to heel, coglione.”

Christian scowls at him, “Shut the fuck up, testa di cazzo.”

Seb laughs and Christian turns to me, “You’d better know what you are doing, brother.” With a last glare in Seb’s direction, he follows Aurora out.

I drag my fingers through my hair, then wince when a flash of pain slides up my arm. And this is from just a cut. How much pain was she in after what she had been through? Had I been wrong to break up with her in that fashion and send her on her way? It was for her own good, after all.

So why is there a sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach? Why does my chest feel heavy? I’m rubbing the skin above my heart when Seb’s phone rings.

He pulls it out, answers it, then turns to me. “We have a suspect.”

Half an hour later, I enter the basement that’s two stories down in the house. Luca stands facing a man who’s been strung up from the ceiling. Antonio walks out to stand guard by the basement door. Purely a precaution, as the staff have been forbidden from coming down here, and the only woman who would have been nosy enough to find her way here is gone.

I clench my fingers at my sides. Fuck, I have to stop thinking about her and get on with the job at hand. The sooner I can track down whoever was behind the explosion, the sooner I can try to earn her forgiveness. Which, given how she’d left me, would be a complete miracle. What a bloody mess.

I roll my shoulders and glare at the man who watches me without any change in expression. He’s in his late thirties, well built, dark-haired, and he meets my gaze. Interesting. None of my own men would have the courage to do that, which means he isn’t from around here. I walk over to him, pause when I’m a couple of feet away. “You have something to tell me?” I ask.

The man’s features harden. He clears his throat, then spits. The glob of saliva narrowly misses me and falls to the ground between us.

“Figlio di puttana!” Luca growls as he lunges forward and slams his fist into the man’s side. The stranger groans and sways. Luca hits him again and the sound of ribs cracking fills the space. The man gasps, and blood drips from his mouth.

“Enough,” I say mildly. “Good to know your anger issues haven’t diminished in the time you were away.”

Luca steps back and shakes out his hand. “Motherfucker, that hurts like a bitch.”

I turn back to the man. “You have something to tell me?”

He glares at me. Sweat pours down his face, and blood blotches stain his shirt. He lowers his chin and firms his lips.

“No?” I pull out my knife and the overhead light bounces off of it. He blinks, lowers his gaze to the knife, then back at me. I close the distance between us, until the smell of his fear envelops me. He glances at Luca, then back at me, but doesn’t say a word.This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

“Last chance before I cut off your ear, or maybe your nose… What do you say? You’ll live, but look a lot like Voldemort. That might work for Halloween, but not sure you’d be a hit with the women when you resemble He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, tu mi capisci?”He swallows, glancing around the room again.

“No one’s going to save you.” I peer into his features, “Start talking or I’ll start cutting.”

He presses his lips together. I slash the knife down the front of his face and he screams. Blood pours out from the cut on his cheek. His gaze widens until I can see the whites of his eyes.

“Wait,” he blubbers, “wait, I’ll tell you.”

I pause. “I’m listening.”

“It was the Kane Company.”

“The Kane Company?”

He nods, “I… I owed them. And the man who approached me said if I rigged the car, my debts would be forgiven.”

“Who?” I thrust my face into his, “Who asked you to do this? What’s his name?”

“I don’t know.”

“What did he look like?”

“I don’t know,” the man gasps out, “he…he wore a mask. I couldn’t see his features.”

“Fuck!” I hold the knife to his neck and he stiffens. “You’re not helping me, asshole.” I dig the knife into his neck and blood drips from the cut.

He swallows. “Wait,” he pleads, “please wait.” He licks his lips as he darts his gaze left, then right. I press the knife deeper and he wheezes, “Stop, please.” He squeezes his eyes shut, “I have a daughter. I can’t leave her orphaned.”

“We’ll take care of your daughter.”

He snaps his eyes open, “Don’t you dare touch her.”

“Start speaking,” I growl. “You have three minutes.”

“He was tall, as tall as you, and spoke with a British accent.”

“As does half the population of Britain,” Luca snarls. “Was he old, young? How did he walk? Any tattoos? Jewelry? Anything that stands out?”

“Wait,” he freezes and glances into the distance, “he had a tattoo of a flower that peeked out from under his sleeve.”

Seb swears aloud, “Fucking cani! I knew it was them. I knew it was a mistake to be working with them.”

I hold up my hand and he falls silent. “Are you sure?” I peer into the man’s face. “If you are lying….” I let the words hang there.

“I’m not,” he beseeches, “I swear on my daughter, I am not.”

I nod, then step back, “You do realize, I can’t let you go after this though.”

“Please,” he begins to sob. “Don’t do this. I am all my daughter has.”

“All I can promise is that she will be taken care of.” I hesitate. If I had had a daughter, and if it were me about to die, would I regret the kind of life I had led? Given that I have lived by violence, am I bound to have a violent end? Is this how I would go too? At the hands of an enemy? Worried about my family…my wife and children, and wondering who would take care of them? Is there a way out of this for me? Do I want to leave this life of crime behind?

“Capo?” Seb murmurs and I tip up my chin. I swipe out my hand and bury my knife in the man’s chest.