Married to the mafia boss Series

#8 Chapter 31



CARMELA

I would fucking kill him.

Son of a bitch put a bullet in Matteo’s pocket. He’d taunted a seven-year-old girl, terrorized her father, and kidnapped Anthony. His list of crimes kept growing, and I could’ve stabbed him in the neck with a fork, but that wouldn’t help me win. Nick’s revolting hands would never touch a child, ever again.

Nick pulled out his Zippo and lit a clove cigarette, the perfumed smoke curling around his silhouette. “Get a grip, Carmela.”

“You didn’t have to hurt them!”

“I didn’t.”

“You scared those innocent children, and now they’ll think I abandoned them.”

“I don’t know why you give a shit about his kids.” Nick’s disgust seemed to grow when I slumped against the wall. “The fuck is your problem?”

“You.” I grabbed his leather jacket, tears shaking down my cheeks. “You’re what’s wrong with me. You destroy everything good. You’re a cancer. You should’ve never touched them.”

Nick glanced at my fists beating his chest and balled them. He squeezed hard. “You’re out of your mind.”NôvelDrama.Org owns © this.

“I love them.”

Nick slapped me, the sting deepening my rage. He gave me a look as though worried for my sanity. “Snap out of it.”

“I’m not crazy.”

“Are you that desperate for kids? You’d lower yourself to take care of another man’s brats?”

“I spent weeks caring for them.” My gaze wandered across the parking lot to the highway. “You ripped me away from what made me happy.”

Nick glared at me through his veil of smoke. “I’ll give you a baby.”

Hell no.

I wouldn’t want your spawn if you were the last man on Earth.

If I blurted that out loud, he’d make me eat a bullet. Sparring with Nick while he was this volatile would earn me a trip to the morgue. I needed to calm down.

My nails ground into my palm. “You never wanted children.”

“That was before I realized you’d run off with a guy willing to give you what I wouldn’t.” Nick flicked his cigarette and sighed, malice lacing his tone. “You could have asked.”

“I did. You said no.”

Thank fucking God.

Nick’s jaw jumped with an angry tic. He hated being proven wrong, and even he couldn’t forget our fights. He’d broken my heart so many times by quipping that he’d rather jump off a bridge than be a dad.

“It’s a bad idea.” Nick swallowed hard, his pupils reduced to dots. He rarely cracked his shell, but it suddenly blazed wide open. Discomfort poured from him in sickening waves. “I’ll be a shitty father.”

I didn’t know what to say, because it was true.

“Will you?”

“Without a doubt.” Nick’s pale gaze raked me as he blew smoke through his nose. “I have no clue why you want them-why anyone wants them.”

“Don’t you want to pass on your legacy?”

“What do I have to pass on, Carmela? Getting so pissed I can’t see straight, and I wake up with a dead hooker in my bed?” Nick took another drag. “You knew exactly what I was, and you still begged for them. You’re the only girl who’s ever done that.”

No shit.

“I’m not father material, Beauty.” His giant hand wrapped my head, his fingers like ice. “You have to realize that.”

“Then release me.” Please God, make this work. “If you don’t want them, that’s fine. I get it. I do. But I need to be a mom. I deserve that experience. You can’t take that from me.”

His eyes gleamed with emotion.

“Nick, it’s okay. You can let me go.”

“I can’t.”

He yanked me into his arms and gave me his version of a hug, which felt like a steel cage. He couldn’t give anybody warmth, because he didn’t possess any.

Nick pulled away. “I’ll do it.”

He kissed my temple.

I wanted to vomit.


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