Married to the mafia boss Series

CARMELA

My life was a fairytale.

The storm clouds had blown away, and the horizon of my bright future awaited me. I waited for the snide asshole to return, but Michael seemed committed to being the perfect husband.This content is © NôvelDrama.Org.

He felt different. I never woke up without his hand on my thigh or hip. He took longer to release me from hugs, and he dragged his feet whenever he had to leave, although that might’ve been because I cooked more often. I baked him sweets because he inhaled rolls of store-bought cookies, and I didn’t want him eating crap filled with preservatives.

“Gotta go.” Michael finished the snickerdoodle and kissed the kids’ heads. “Later, babies.”

“Wait.” I dipped a spoon in the pot on the stove and offered it to Michael. “Taste this.”

Michael sipped. “What is it? Soup?”

I grimaced. “Spaghetti sauce. Don’t tell me it’s watery.”

“A little,” he admitted. “But it tastes great.”

“I used too many vegetables.”

How else would I make these kids eat properly? I couldn’t believe how hard it was to get them to consume anything that wasn’t a potato.

“It’ll be fine. Let it simmer for a few hours.”

Michael lingered when I caught his hands, marveling at the heat spinning my insides when he leaned forward, his mouth brushing mine like goose down-

“Stop kissing!” shrieked Mariette, who glowered at her dad. “You’re always kissing. It’s so gross.”

Michael grabbed Mariette and planted a noisy kiss on her cheek. Then he rumpled her braid and headed out.

“Disgusting,” she muttered, wiping her face.

They ate, and I washed dishes. The doorbell chimed as I cleaned the counters. I threw the rag in the sink and got the door, peering at the man lounging on the wrought-iron fence. His skin was as dark as mine, and he wore slim-fitted navy pants under a V-necked black T-shirt. He had thick ebony hair and angular features. His brooding demeanor oozed over the lawn. Relief flooded his expression as he straightened, beckoning.

“Alessio?” I stepped outside, gaping at what must’ve been a mirage. “What are you doing here?”

I rushed to the gate and yanked it open.

Alessio entered, raking his espresso-brown locks as he looked through me, at the mansion. “Is Michael here?”

“No, you just missed him.” My eyes burned as Alessio scooped me into a fierce hug. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“Mia’s at the house. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

“What? Why?”

“Carmela, can we play twenty questions at my place? I want to leave before he shows up.”

“Why are you even here?” I headed inside, frustrated when my brother-in-law stood in the garden. “Don’t stand there. Come in.”

“I’m not here to dawdle.”

But he sank his hands into his pockets and followed me inside, his widened gaze flicking at the portraits on the walls, the children’s drawings stuck on the fridge, and me.

“I read your message. I couldn’t believe it, to be honest. I thought for sure someone hacked your email, so I spent the last few weeks reaching out to my old contacts…and they told me.”

“I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about, but it was a mistake to come back. Take Mia and go.” Every second he lingered put them in danger. “They’re still looking for you!”

“I’m not leaving without you.”

“Alessio, I’m fine. I’m breathing and everything.” I slapped my sides, hating his pity. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Honey, you asked me for help!”

“What?”

My former fiancé gaped at me as though I’d suffered brain damage. His brows knitted as I left his side, strolling into the living room. Both children sat on the couch, stabbing iPads. Their heads whipped around, and Matteo shrieked.

“Zio!”

Mariette elbowed her brother aside in her haste to tackle Alessio, whose shell-shocked expression never flickered. He looked like he was waking from a terrible dream. He patted Mariette’s head.

“Hey, hon.”

“Where’ve you been, Zio?”

Alessio’s gaze swiveled to me, wide-eyed. “You didn’t send it. He did.”

“Send what?”

“The fucking email!” He dropped his voice at Mariette’s scandalized gasp. “You-he wrote-that you were forced into marriage.”

It clicked together when Alessio opened his cell and showed me the message.

Michael forced me to marry him. Help me.

I’d never typed those words. I would’ve committed Seppuku before dragging my sister and her husband back to Boston.

Michael did this.

He’d violated my privacy. He’d lured my brother-in-law into a trap, and he’d done it without consulting me. The betrayal sliced me to the bone. It stuck in my throat.

“You need to go. Right now.” I grabbed his arms and squeezed. “You have no idea what you’re up against.”

“Yeah. Your parents are missing.”

What? “They’re at home!”

Alessio’s face creased with sadness. “They disappeared weeks ago. Nobody has seen or heard from them.”

My warmth vanished. The lights seemed to dim. My world shrank into a desolate landscape.

“No. That’s impossible.”

“Carmela, I was there. The lawn is overgrown. Their mailbox was so full the post office stopped delivering. They’re gone.” he said, incredulous. “Did you not know?”

I’LL RELEASE IGNACIO.

Michael’s callous voice taunted me during the quick drive to Alessio’s mansion, the kids chattering the whole way. I hadn’t told Michael I’d left and I wasn’t sure what to do. I was barely holding it together, my shoulders shaking, my gasps silenced by the music Alessio cranked up. His worried gaze swept over me once we parked in his driveway. Black escalades surrounded the Georgian-Revival home, but all the security wouldn’t stop Michael.

Alessio hiked Matteo to his hip as we walked toward his house. Mariette flew through the kissing gate and launched up the steps, where my sister stood in white capris and a pink top. I broke into tears as the pint-sized brunette tore across the garden. She crashed into me, arms cinching my waist in a bear hug. We stumbled inside, laughing and crying as Alessio shepherded the children.

“Are you okay? Do you need anything?” Mia patted my shoulder as though searching for wounds. “Should we get a doctor?”

“I’m fine.”

The next half hour felt like a replay of the weeks after I escaped my ex-boyfriend when my battered body was all they saw. They still looked at me like a broken thing, and it roiled my guts because I wasn’t damaged. I’d survived Nick. I’d survive Michael, but this hurt like hell.

Mia’s manicured nails dug into my shoulders as we settled into their playroom, which seemed covered in an inch of dust. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why’d you pretend everything was okay?”

“Because you deserved to be happy.”

“What about you?” she fretted, clasping my palm in her tiny one. “You think it makes me glad, knowing you were being tortured-”

“Michael never laid a hand on me.”

Mia exchanged a glance with Alessio, who sat beside his wife. “It doesn’t matter. He crossed the line.”

“He said he’d let Dad go if I married him. I thought he’d follow through. I guess I was that desperate, but it was so stupid of me. I can’t believe I trusted him.”

He never released my father.

Dad was probably dead. And Mom? Who the fuck knew?

Devastation cut me to my knees. My hands slapped the floor as pain balled in my throat, bursting out in a scream. Mia flung herself on me, dissolving into tears as Alessio’s appeals for calm were ignored.

My life was a lie.

He’d conned me, and I’d fallen for it, seduced by his charm and the promise of a baby.

How could he do this to me?

How could he be so cruel?

I broke into loud, unrestrained sobs, the sound echoing through the house. Mia clung to me, her low growl shaking with wrath. Nothing calmed me-not Alessio’s promises or my sister’s support-it wasn’t until a small body pressed into my side that I fell silent. Fingers touched my cheeks as a soft voice pleaded.

“Don’t cry, Mommy.”

That word cleaved me in two, filling me with the sweetest joy and the sharpest agony. Michael must’ve encouraged Matteo to call me that, knowing what it’d mean to me. He’d manipulated me from the beginning.

I loved them too much.

I couldn’t leave Michael without abandoning his kids.

“Sorry, honey.” I wiped my face and forced a smile. “I’m sad because I haven’t seen your auntie for a long time. It’s okay. Go play with your sister.”

Matteo’s warm eyes filled me with grief. They were so like his father’s. He returned to the pile of LEGOs and seized fistfuls of them, spraying Mariette with colorful blocks.

“I should text Michael.”

“Carm, you shouldn’t go back there.” Mia gaped at Alessio, as though asking him for guidance. “We’ll help you.”

“I can’t. They need me.”

Alessio and Mia exchanged worried looks. “They’ll survive. They have a team of nannies.”

“I love them.”

“You’ll find someone else.” Alessio lowered to his knees, softening. “You’ll have kids of your own.”

“No. I’m not leaving them.”

A chime echoed from Alessio’s pocket. He hissed into the receiver, and then he faced us. “He’s here.”

I sighed, standing.

“Stay with us. We have plenty of space.”

“He’ll never allow it.” My insides collapsed as the front door creaked, the floor clipping with his youthful gait. “It’s fine. I’ll leave.”

“No, it’s not,” Mia growled, seizing Alessio’s jacket. “You can’t let him take her away.”

“I can’t keep the man from his children!”

“No, you can’t.”

Michael’s smoky cadence seemed to suck all the air as he strolled through, poisoning the room with his presence. My husband surveyed Alessio with a curled lip.

“You look very tan. I guess Boca Raton agreed with you.”

Alessio’s jaw tensed. “What do you want?”

“My wife and kids. Right now.”

“They should crash here for a few days.”

“No. They belong with me. You ought to prepare for Vinn’s arrival. He’s on his way.” Michael cocked his head and flashed me a sweet smile. “Come.”

Mia balled her fists as Michael tugged his daughter along.

“Good to see you, Mia. Sorry you couldn’t make the wedding. We’ll share the photos with you.”

They followed us to the door, Mia’s face vivid with fear.

Alessio fisted my husband’s sleeve. “You’re dead to me.”

Michael yanked from his grip. “Cool story, bro.”