Arranged Mafia Marriage

“The shop?” Massimo frowns.

“The florist’s shop that I run with Theresa-when I noticed a car following me. He sped up when I increased my pace, slowed down when I did. I, uh, knew that Theresa had married into the Cosa Nostra-”

“So, you concluded that one of our enemies was after you?” I frown.

“Theresa and I do not just work together; we are also good friends. We hang out a lot, go out together. I figured people have seen us together, and something like this has never happened before. I didn’t think it was a coincidence I was followed so soon after her being involved with Axel. I… I panicked.” She squeezes her hands together. “I didn’t know where to go. And then when they tried to run me off the road-”

“He tried to run you off the road?” I explode. “Stocazzo!” I drag my fingers through my hair.

“N… nothing happened.” She turns her gaze on me, and this time, there is no hint of emotion in her blue eyes. Interesting. She’s more in control of her feelings than she lets on.

She swallows. “I was on a strip of road where there’s not much traffic when it happened. Then, another car crowded me, so I had no choice but to take the next turn.

“I realized I was near your nonna’s house, so when I reached it, I slammed on the brakes, jumped out, and raced toward the front door, hoping to get help. I’m sorry I wasn’t thinking. I just knew I was in danger, and that someone here would be able to help me, but then the gunshots rang out and-” She bites down on her lower lip and a shudder grips her shoulders.

So, there was more than one car following her? Cristo Santo! My stomach knots. A ball of emotion hooks its claws into my throat. Why am I unable to see her in distress? My fingers tingle. I want to reach for her, hold her close and calm her down, and promise her nothing like this will ever happen to her again. Except, we are the Cosa Nostra, and I’m an integral part of it. Our lives are always at risk from our enemies, and so are our family’s and friends’. It’s the price we pay for the path we follow. It’s a lesson I learned early.

It’s why I swore to never get married… Until Nonna made me promise otherwise earlier. Cazzo! I tuck my elbows into my sides and try to wipe all expression off my face.

“Looks like she was coerced into coming to the house.” Massimo leans forward on the balls of his feet. “Whoever was in those cars knew where we were and wanted her to come to us.”

“What about the guards?” Luca asks in a hard voice. “How do you explain them being knocked out so you could get past them and to the door?”

She bites down on her lower lip, and hell, if I don’t want to go over and pull out her lip from under her teeth and bite down on it myself. I take a step toward her, then stop myself. Luca has a point. Why were the guards knocked out before she came on the scene? Something doesn’t fit.

She glances at me, and I want to nod in encouragement, but I stop myself. If she had anything to do with Nonna being shot… But no, that makes no sense at all. It’s a coincidence, is all. But I want to hear it from her.

“I…” she tips up her chin, “I don’t know why they were knocked out, to be honest. I didn’t see anyone as I ran through the gates.”

“-which had been left open.” Luca widens his stance.

“Whoever steered her in our direction made sure to remove all obstacles from her course,” Adrian muses.

I whip my head in his direction. “You think she was set up?”

“By someone who knew where we all were, and who counted on Seb recognizing her and letting her in,” Massimo completes my train of thought.

Luca, Massimo, Adrian, and I exchange glances.

“Cazzo!” I drag my fingers through my hair. “This means there’s someone inside our clan who is sharing information. Someone who knew we’d all be here under one roof. Or someone overheard Theresa’s conversation with her.”

Elsa hunches her shoulders. “I… I’m really sorry I burst in on you guys, sorry that I brought the gunmen to your doorstep, sorry that Nonna was hurt. If I could do it all over again, I wouldn’t stop at Nonna’s house, but continue on to the shop-”

“And he’d have shot at you as you entered the shop, if he hadn’t pushed you off the road, forced you out of your car, and put a gun to your head.” I dig my fingernails into the palm of my hand. My stomach churns. Porca miseria, she could have been killed. She almost was killed.

“You should have never left home today,” I say through gritted teeth. “You should have stayed in bed. That way, all of this could have been avoided.”

“Excuse me,” she snaps. Color rises on her cheeks, she juts out her chin, and scowls at me. “You don’t tell me how to live my life, mister. No one does. I am my own person, and I’ve worked hard to build my life exactly the way I like it, and-”

Someone clears their throat and we all turn.

Elsa

My phone vibrates in my pocket; I slide it out and glance at it. At the same time, the surgeon in his blood splattered scrubs looks between us. Seb moves toward him, followed by his brothers. The doctor speaks with them in a low tone as I move to the side to check the message.

I need to leave soon Elsa. When will you be back?

I’ll be there within the hour. Can you hold on until then? I text back, then pocket the phone and glance up to find Seb’s gaze on me. His features are pale; his eyes are dead. It looks like he’s lost his best friend in the world… Or his nonna.

Oh no, no, no. I press my knuckles to my mouth and move toward him. I brush past the other men who are standing around with shellshocked expressions on their faces. I reach him, close the distance between us, and wrap my arms around him. His entire body feels as if it’s frozen, his muscles locked in place. A palpable sense of disbelief emanates from him. I glance up to find his gaze fixed on a point in the distance.

“Seb?” I whisper. “Sebastian?

When he doesn’t reply, I stand up on tiptoes and press my lips onto the strip of skin exposed between the lapels of his shirt.

A shudder runs through him and his shoulders bunch. He glances down at me, and my breath catches. That light in his amber eyes is gone, replaced by a darkness that both frightens me, and beckons me. His skin is pale and the hollows under his cheekbones seem to have become even more pronounced. I guess this is what a forsaken angel looks like. He’s looking at me like he doesn’t actually see me, yet he’d reacted to my touch, so I know that he feels me.

“Seb,” I swallow, “are you okay?” My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I wince.

A frown creases his forehead. “Are you going to answer that?” he asks.Property © 2024 N0(v)elDrama.Org.

“No,” I shake my head, “but I have to go.”

“Go?” He repeats the word as if he hasn’t quite comprehended what I’m saying.

“I have to leave Seb, I’m so sorry. It’s just I…” I bite my lower lip, and his nostrils flare. His gaze drops to my mouth, and a nerve flicks to life at his temple.

My phone vibrates again. Damn, I can’t ignore it. “I’m so sorry, Seb. I really have to go.” I step back from him, but he swoops his arm out and around my waist, pulling me close and holding me in place.

“You’re leaving me?” he asks in a voice devoid of emotion.

“I’m sorry, but I have to. I know how much pain you are in, and believe me, if I could, I would stay-”

“So stay,” he says in that same remote voice.

“I can’t.” I glance past him at the door. “I’m truly sorry, but I can’t.” I try to pull away, and to my relief, he releases me. I brush past him, rush out the door, and run straight into Michael and Karma, whom I’ve already met through Theresa.

“Elsa.” Karma grips my arm. “How is she?”

“She…” I swallow, then turn to Michael. “I’m sorry for your loss,” I say in a soft voice.

Michael’s gaze widens before he wipes all emotion from his face.

“Oh, no!” Karma’s features crumple. She releases me, only to turn to Michael and throw her arms around him. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

He leans into her, and for just a few seconds, I see the vulnerability of the Don of the Cosa Nostra. Feeling like an intruder, I walk past them and down the corridor to exit. I scramble out of the way of incoming paramedics with a woman on a stretcher, and I’m reminded-that could have been me. Simultaneously, I remember I left my car at Nonna’s place. I hesitate. What do I do? I reach for my phone to call a car when a town car with tinted windows pulls to a stop in front of me. The driver rolls down his window and addresses me, “Sebastian told me to bring you home.”

“Eh?” I blink rapidly. “But he didn’t tell me anything. He-” My phone buzzes. I pull it out of my jeans pocket to find there’s a message from an unknown number:

Michael’s bodyguard Antonio will take you to your car and follow you home.

I blow out a breath. Only one person would message me in that imperious tone, and somehow, I’m not surprised he’s gotten hold of my number. He is a part of the Mafia, after all. I assume he has minions in his pocket almost everywhere-people who are only too glad to drop everything and do his bidding.

Antonio-I assume he’s the one driving-gets out of the car, then opens the back door for me. “Please, Miss Elsa, let me make sure you get home safely.”

I hesitate.

“He has a lot on his plate at the moment; it’ll help if he knows you’re safe,” Antonio adds.

That’s true. And damn, if I don’t feel manipulated. On the other hand, this means I’ll save time and reach home faster.

I slide into the backseat and he shuts the door behind me. He gets into the driver’s seat, shuts his own door and eases onto the road.

In half an hour, we are back at Nonna’s place. I find my car parked in the driveway, behind the now-closed gates, with the windows rolled up. I left the car on the street, with the engine running and the keys in the ignition. The gates to the house had been open and I’d darted through and up the pathway to the front door.

“I got the car off the main road. Seb told me to,” Antonio explains as the gate opens and he parks behind my car.

“Thank you.” I nod at him, before getting out of the car and heading toward my own.

Inside, I find the keys still in the ignition and my hardback where I left it on the passenger seat. I adjust the rearview mirror and spot the cut on my forehead. It’s crazy how just a few hours can change everything. Now, his nonna is gone. And I know that the simmering connection between us is more than I had imagined. The entire situation is so messy. On the other hand, I caught his attention. Mission accomplished. But at what cost?

I draw in a breath, start the car, and follow the circular driveway out and onto the main road.

Twenty minutes later, I am home. Antonio had followed me at a safe distance, and waited until I had walked up the steps and into the door of my apartment block. Only after I shut the door behind me, do I hear him drive off. No doubt, he’s following Seb’s instructions to a T.

The flat is quiet as I place my handbag and keys on the table near the door. I walk into the living room to find my babysitter, Sara, fast asleep on the couch. I head toward the smaller of the two bedrooms and peek inside. The night light is on, illuminating the stars stuck to the ceiling. I walk over to the crib and find Avery fast asleep. She’s on her back, chubby arms flung out to the sides. Her chest rises and falls as she breathes. Her eyelashes lay against her cheekbones and her mouth is slightly parted. Warmth coils in my chest. I lean forward and slide my finger inside the tiny half-curled fingers of her hand. She stirs, then clasps her fingers firmly around mine. I wait a few seconds, to ensure she is completely still, before I kiss my fingertips and touch them to Avery’s forehead. Her baby smell fills my lungs and it’s all I can do not to scoop her up and cuddle her close. I’d do anything for this little girl. Anything to ensure that she has every happiness in her life. She deserves everything I couldn’t have. I never knew my father, and I’m going to ensure she has one, bastard though he might be. I’d sacrifice myself so she’d go to sleep every night with a smile on her face.

I slowly slide my finger out from between hers, then straighten and leave the room. I walk over to the sofa where Sara is sprawled out, her hair about her shoulders.

“Sara…” I touch her shoulder, and her eyelids snap open.

“Oh, hey.” She yawns. “When did you get back?”

“A few minutes ago.”

She stretches, then bolts upright. “Shoot, what time is it? I promised Mom I’d be home by ten.”

“It’s nine-forty-five.”

She rubs her eyes. “I guess I should get going. Good thing I live just upstairs.” She rises to her feet, then peers into my face. “What happened?” She gestures to my forehead.

“Nothing, it’s just a scratch.”

“You sure?” She takes in my features. “I can stay, if you want.”

“No, that’s all right. You’ve helped me a lot by babysitting her already.”

“Any time. She’s a sweetheart. She ate most of her dinner. Then we played, I read her a bedtime story, and she was out like a light.”

“That’s good.” A wave of exhaustion overwhelms me and I clutch the back of the sofa.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Sure.” I smile. “Hell, I forgot to pay you.” I walk around her and head to where I dropped my purse on the table. I pull out a few notes and hold them out to her.”

“It was a pleasure. You don’t have to pay me; I love babysitting Avery.”

“I insist. You earned it.” I push the notes into her hand, then walk to the door and hold it open. “Thanks again for being available on short notice.”

After she leaves, I head toward my own bedroom. Too tired to even shower, I simply step out of my clothes, pull on a soft camisole, and slide into bed. I close my eyes, and what seems like only a few minutes later, I’m awakened by a cry from the other room.

Avery! I jump out of bed and race to her room to find her sitting up in her crib. “Hey, baby, did you have sweet dreams?”

She holds up her chubby arms, and I scoop her up and cuddle her.

She settles down instantly, then begins to fuss again. “Time for a diaper change, Bubu?”

I set her down and quickly change her diaper. As I toss the soiled diaper in the receptacle, the doorbell rings.

I glance down at myself, then carry her back to my bedroom. Placing her on the bed, I pull on my robe, then cuddling her in my arms, I head for the front door. The doorbell rings again.

“I’m coming,” I yell. I look through the peephole and my breath catches. I take a step back then fling the door open. “What are you doing here?”