Married to the mafia King

83



Bianca

One minute I was in a holding cell that smelled like urine, sitting next to a prostitute and a female gang member with tattoos on her face

And the next I was outside the jail, kissing Adriano. Who was dressed like a cop.

And then I saw my father

And I broke down into tears.

And then Adriano basically told me he loved me without saying those exact words.

Because I care for your daughter a great deal.

You’re important to her…

And so you’re important to me.

Which made me cry again.

It was an intense ten minutes.

After Adriano’s magic trick of making my father appear, he drove the police detective’s battered Fiat and dropped him off near his apartment.

Adriano returned De Luca’s cell phone after borrowing it. He’d texted his brothers to let them know we were coming. “Remember grab your passport, pack a few things, and catch the first flight out of Europe. It doesn’t have to be where you plan to settle down just get out. You’ve got about a 12-hour head start on your former colleagues, so make it count.”

De Luca nodded. “Thanks.”

Then he walked away, ready to start a new life.

I envied him.

I would have liked to have started a new life with two million euros in my bank account.

Although, if I’d had to leave behind my parents, I couldn’t have done it.

And…

To be honest…

If I had to leave Adriano, I don’t think I could have done it, either.

We drove out of Florence into the Tuscan countryside. After the lights of the city, the darkness over the landscape was absolute.

Adriano was at the wheel while I sat with my father in the back.

Adriano peppered Dad with questions, one after another.

I didn’t understand half of them but I didn’t care. I just held Papa’s hand the entire time, grateful he was alive.

The one super interesting thing was why my father had disappeared…

And how Adriano had figured it out.

“I had to lay low, but I knew the Agrellas could get to me practically anywhere in Florence,” my father explained. “I didn’t have time to get back to my apartment to get my wife plus I figured she was probably being watched to see if I’d show up. So I had to go into hiding, at least for the weekend.”

“So you went into the one place you knew you could hang out for three days without anybody knowing where you were,” Adriano said.

Papa nodded. “The jail.”

“I don’t understand,” I said.

“I knew if I got arrested after 5 PM on a Friday,” Papa said, “the courts would be closed for the weekend. There wouldn’t be an arraignment until Monday morning. So I made sure to get myself arrested Friday night.”

Adriano chuckled. “By spitting on a cop, no less.”

“Dad!” I exclaimed, shocked. He’d always taught me to respect the police.This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

“It was the only way I could be sure I’d get arrested,” he protested. “I gargled with a bunch of cheap scotch and spilled the rest of the bottle all over my clothes. Then I went up to a cop and started picking a fight. Unfortunately, he told me to go home and sleep it off, so I had to take it up a notch. I didn’t want to hit him or he might bash my head in, so I spit on him and called him a pig.”

“DAD!” I cried out.

“What?! If that didn’t work, I was going to have to break a shop window or something!”

Adriano laughed. “It was the smart play, Bianca.”

My father nodded and gestured like Listen to HIM!

Now that Adriano was taking his side, Papa seemed to be warming up to him.

“Once they booked me in, I knew that if I didn’t give them my real name, there was no way the Agrellas could trace me in the system.”

“So you used your gambling nickname,” Adriano said. “But why that and not just some random name? Or no name at all?”

“I was worried that not giving them a name might draw more attention than I wanted. And if I used a random name, I was concerned I might forget the details. Or if they yelled it out, I wouldn’t respond, and they’d know something was up. Everybody calls me Flambeur in the gambling parlors, so I knew there wouldn’t be any problem remembering or responding to it.”

Adriano nodded. “Not bad.”

“But how did you figure it out?” I asked Adriano.

“The first clue was when they booked me. They took my phone, and then they wouldn’t let me call anybody. That was when I remembered your father only called you one time.

“There were really only a handful of possibilities. He’d either lost the phone, which I didn’t think was likely… he was dead, or the bad guys had him, which I hoped wasn’t the case… or he was physically prevented from calling you.

“Being in jail and getting his phone taken away was the simplest explanation. I figured he probably called you right before he got arrested.”

Papa nodded. “Exactly.”

“And then you chose not to make any phone calls from the jail because you didn’t want to attract any attention.”

“Right again.”

“It all made sense. Because of your job, you knew the legal system like the back of your hand. If anybody could turn that to their advantage, I figured it would be you.”

“But how’d you know my nickname?”

“I heard it when Bianca took me to all the gambling dens earlier today.”

Papa froze and looked at me. “Oh God…”

“It’s fine,” I reassured him.

Papa shook his head and looked ashamed. “I’m sorry, Paperotta… I wished you hadn’t had to do that…”

“Don’t be too sorry,” Adriano said. “That’s the only reason I knew how to find you because I heard everybody call you Flambeur. At first I had the cop search the system for your real name, but that didn’t turn up anything so I had him try your nickname instead.”

“I’m glad I used it, then,” my father said, relieved. “I guess that saved me.”

“Your knowledge of the legal system saved you,” Adriano replied.

“It just bought me some time.” Papa squeezed my hand. “You and my paperotta saved me. Thank you.”

I squeezed my father’s hand back. “You’re welcome… but it was Adriano who saved you, not me.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Adriano said.

“But how did you get mixed up in all this?” Papa asked me. “And how did the two of you meet?”

“…um…”

I really didn’t want to have to explain about dressing up like an escort…

And getting shot at…

And all the other crazy stuff that had happened over the last 24 hours.

Not only would it have given my father a heart attack, but he’d feel absolutely awful about putting me in danger.

“I’ll explain it all later,” Adriano said, saving me once again. “We’re almost there, though, and I need you to tell my brothers everything you’ve told me.”

Papa looked worried. “Are they going to be… okay with what I’ve done?”

“You didn’t do anything,” I reassured him.

But Papa kept watching Adriano nervously.

“Right?” I appealed to Adriano.

“Paperotta,” Papa said miserably, “I was working for the Agrellas on his family’s territory.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Remember when I told you that my family controlled the judges and the police in Florence?” Adriano said to me.

“…yeah…?”

“Well, the Agrellas were screwing us over.” Adriano looked at my father in the rearview mirror. “I’m assuming you knew that.”

“…yes,” my father whispered, his eyes cast down at his lap.

“You probably even knew who our bagmen were, didn’t you.”

Papa nodded reluctantly. “Gallo and Carbone.”

Adriano looked impressed. “You do know everything, don’t you?”

My father didn’t answer.

“Look,” Adriano said, “if we’d found out about this under ordinary circumstances, there’d be hell to pay. But these aren’t ordinary circumstances. Nothing over the last 24 hours has been ordinary. If you just tell my brothers everything you’ve told me, we’ll be square. No harm, no foul. Plus, like I said, I care about your daughter. Which means I’m going to protect you and your family.”

“You promise?” my father asked fearfully. “If your brothers decide the blame has to fall on me, I understand but please, don’t hurt my daughter or my wife please.”

Adriano looked directly into my father’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “NOTHING is going to happen to you, Signor Lettieri… or to Bianca… or to your wife. I swear it on my mother’s grave.”

My father looked relieved. “Thank you.”

“Thank your daughter. She never stopped looking for you, and she never gave up.”

Papa wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tight. His voice broke as he whispered, “Thank you… thank you…”

I hugged him back. Tears streamed down my face as I looked at Adriano in the mirror and silently mouthed, Thank you.

I could see the smile lines around his eyes as he nodded. You’re welcome.


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