Married to the mafia boss Series

Anastasia

With no money in my pocket, I can’t call a cab. It’s also too dangerous to walk the streets by myself as it’s starting to get dark out. I’m running low on options, but I know where exactly where I have to go. It’s just a matter of getting there.

I stick my hands in my pockets hoping to keep myself warm. It’s starting to snow and I left my jacket in the car with Maxim along with my phone. A phone would just be a way for them to track me anyways. I have to lay low if I want to stay safe, there is no doubt Maxim contacted my father already to tell him what happened. Half of the Bratva is probably roaming the streets looking for me.

I don’t roam the streets for long before I catch someone who may be naive and trusting enough to give me a lift. It’s a nice young girl in her early twenties, she is locking the small boutique for the night. I approach her slowly, I’m shivering at this point and I don’t try to hide it. I sign to her in desperation but she doesn’t understand me. She pulls out her phone and goes to her notes app. I wrote to her that I need a ride, explaining that I’ve lost my cell phone and have no money for a cab.

She gives me wary look, I don’t blame her if she tells me no, but I’m shocked when she nods her head. I write down the street address and have her drop me off on the corner, I know my way. I don’t need my men finding her and interrogating her on exactly what building I’m in. It’s more inconspicuous this way.

Looking up at the tall apartment building I wonder what he’s doing and how he’ll react. In the elevator I press the numbers I’ve memorized giving me access to the penthouse suit.

Angelo, I’m coming home.

The elevator dings, the doors slowly open. I take a step in and automatically get hit with the scent of fresh bergamot. I look around looking for any sign of Angelo. The place is spotless. I peek my head in the kitchen, no Isabella and no evidence of dinner being made.Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

My legs feel like jello as I make my way upstairs, I start to shake with anticipation as I approach his bedroom. Taking a deep breath, I grab the doorknob and open the door. His bed is perfectly made and completely untouched. The bathroom door is opening telling me he’s not in his room at all. Maybe he’s at the office?

I sit on the bed. I’ll have to wait for him to get back. My hand skins over the soft white comforter. I’ve missed this bed. I’ve missed this room. On the bed stand is my copy of Red Rising, he hasn’t moved it. A pile of my other books are still in a Barnes & Noble bag in the corner of his room along with a bag of clothes he bought me. I grab the second book in the Red Rising series and crawl under the covers. It’s hard to think when I remember what we were doing the last time we were in this bed together. My skin prickles as I vividly remember how his hands touched me. He gave me pleasure and passion, he gave me his trust and his heart and in return I gave him everything. I gave him every single last piece of me.

Reality hits me and pulls me out of my reminiscent memory. I don’t even know if Angelo will want me here. This could all go really bad. I’ve allowed myself to be vulnerable coming here. He could break my heart a second time-I don’t think I’d survive it.

What will life be like if not with him? I don’t care if we have to start over in a world unknown, I don’t even care if we die trying. I’d choose anything over a suffocating life with Maxim. I’m not built to be his wife. I’m not built to be submissive. I won’t be able to stand idle while my father and husband turn my son into a vicious killer like them. There is already a language barrier between us and he’ll never learn sign for my sake, he’ll do what he wants and there is no way I’ll ever be able to talk back or argue. I can’t marry him. I won’t. Even if Angelo doesn’t want me, I can’t go back.

I’ll wait here until he comes back. Then I will figure out what to do or we will figure out what to do, together.