Arranged Mafia Marriage

A week later

Aurora

“That’s mending nicely, now.” I replace the dressing on the man who accidentally cut himself with a knife and was brought in by his wife. “You should be discharged within the day.”

“Oh, that’s good news.” He smiles at his wife, who throws her arm around him and hugs him.

“Thank you, Doctor,” she says. “I can’t wait to take him home and fuss over him.”

I step back and let the couple have their moment. “I’ll, ah, go talk to the nurse in charge to make sure they have discharge orders.”

I dawdle a second longer as the couple kisses. At least someone is in love and happy about it. I play with the ring on my finger as I walk toward the common room used by the doctors. It’s been a long shift, and I’m exhausted, but it feels good to finally be doing my job.

Fact is, I had missed it when I returned to Sicily. I’m very lucky I was able to return to my role as a doctor at the same hospital where I had previously worked in London. They had been so strapped for doctors that they had welcomed me back with open arms, and I had started working right away. Truth be told, it’s the only reason I have been able to stay sane. I had put on my scrubs walked into the ER and had felt instantly at home.

In fact, I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had a moment to think, and that’s been a blessing.

I also managed to find an apartment to rent within twenty-four hours, which honestly, in London, is nothing short of a miracle.

There was just enough money in my bank account to pay the deposit for the rent. All in all, I settled back into my former life like I hadn’t left at all. And I admit, it feels good… To be independent again. To earn my living and not be depending on someone else… Not that Christian ever made me lack for anything. The man made sure all of my needs were looked after… And I do mean, all of my needs. He satisfied me in every way, indulged even my darkest desires-the ones I dared not share with anyone else. Somehow, with him, I didn’t hesitate. He’d already been so filthy in his proclivities that it seemed natural to open up that part of myself to him.

And maybe that helped heal something inside of me. Maybe, I needed his particular brand of assertiveness, his dominance that allowed me to give myself up to him, trust him, and trust my body to him.

Oh, I had also been angry with him, and it was wrong that he’d held me captive… And that he’d seduced me… Only, it wasn’t something I hadn’t wanted.

I craved his particular brand of filthiness. I wanted him to fuck me, to not give me a choice and take me, so I wouldn’t feel so bad about being attracted to him.

And this … this thing between us, this connection, it’s more than physical. Don’t get me wrong. The physical was definitely the start of it, but the more I got to know him, the more I realized that beneath that hard exterior is a man who cares for his family, who had stood up to his father to save his younger brother, and who was devastated by the loss of his twin; not to mention, the shock of finding out he has a triplet.

And he had come after me. And I had left. And he had let me.

I haven’t heard from him since he walked away from me at the airport. Half an hour later, as I waited for the next flight out, Adrian had turned up. He said that Christian wanted their private jet to take me to London. I had just started to refuse when the woman at the airline counter told me there were no cancellations on the later flight either. So I was stuck.

I’d refused when Adrian asked me if I preferred to spend the night at the airport. And the thought of trying to find a hotel room for the night and trying to get on a flight the next day felt like too much.

Ultimately, I agreed to fly on the private jet, and before I knew it, I was at Heathrow airport and making my way to the taxi stand, joining the ranks of normal folks who work for a living; as opposed to being involved in illegal businesses and playing with people’s lives like the Sovranos and the rest of the Mafia clan does.

This is what I wanted, right? To be away from the Mafia, to chart my own future, to lead an ordinary life where I am a doctor by day and alone by night? No, no, no… I’m not going to think about that. I’m fine, I’m happy… Okay, maybe not happy, but I’m content with what I have-my freedom, my autonomy, my independence… Yes, yes, yes, if I repeat that often enough, I might even begin to believe it.

I shrug out of my white coat, stuff it inside my locker, then grab my handbag and head out of the hospital. I take the tube home, step inside, and that’s when my phone rings.

Cassandra’s name pops up on the screen.

“Hello?” I answer the video call and Cass’s face appears.

“Hey, you.” Cass smiles. “Have you been avoiding me?”

“Umm…” My neck heats. Truth is, I have been avoiding her calls, but only because talking to her reminds me too much of Christian.

“Hey,” she frowns at me, “it’s understandable if you don’t want to talk to me. It must bring back too many memories.”

“Yeah…” I blow out a breath as I walk into the kitchen. “I just wanted a little space, so I could put everything that happened into perspective, you know?”

“How are you holding up?”

I balance the phone against the microwave, then grab a bottle of wine from the refrigerator. I pour myself a glass and hold it out to Cass. “Cheers.”

She laughs and holds up her own glass of wine. “Saluti, babe.”

I sip from the glass and savor the woodsy taste of the wine. It’s no match to the dark taste of his skin, of course, but it’ll have to do.

“How’s everything there?” I finally ask.

“He’s not doing that great.”

“Who?” I scowl. “And that’s not what I asked.”

“You know who I’m talking about,” she murmurs, “and you know that’s what you meant, so why don’t we drop the pretense?”

“I really don’t want to talk about him.”

“But I do.”

“If that’s why you called-”

I go to depress the stop button on the phone, but she calls out, “Wait, Aurora, I won’t talk about him, okay?”

I shake my head. “Not that it makes me feel any better to hear you say that.” I pick up the phone and head back into the living room. “I’m not sure what I want anymore.”

“Do you want him?”

“What kind of a question is that?”

“Well, do you?”

“Of course, I do.” I huff.

“So why aren’t you with him?”

“After what he did? After how he publicly humiliated me?”

“You wanted him to forgive you for the mistake you made when you made a deal with his brother.”

“I did that because I felt trapped, okay. I didn’t mean it.”

“Maybe he didn’t mean it either? Maybe he loved you so much that the thought of you having betrayed him was too much for him,” she scans my features, “and then he did come after you at the airport, didn’t he?”This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

“Whose side are you on?”

“Yours, babe, always.”

“So why are you defending him? Is it because he’s part of the Mafia and because you owe them?”

“Yes, I owe the Sovranos my life, but that’s not why I am saying it. Hell, I’m the first to say that you should never tolerate their machismo behavior.”

“Yet you work for them,” I point out.

“And I make sure that they never take me for granted. I hold my own against each of them, and don’t tell me that you haven’t noticed.”

“They do respect you,” I say slowly. “I see that. Even Nonna treats you with deference.”

“I had my fair share of run-ins with each of them, including Nonna, when I first started as Michael’s housekeeper.”

“And how did that work out?”

“Hell, I threatened to quit, and Michael allowed me to leave. But then he and the rest of them found out just how good I was at my job.” She snorts. “Turns out, finding someone who enjoys housekeeping, does it well, and knows how to be discreet with what they see is a tall order.”

“One which you fill with great excellence.”

“It’s why Michael told me to also manage Christian’s home.”

“Oh, yeah?” I snort. “Don’t tell me he hasn’t found someone else to fill his bed and cook his food and clean his house by now?”

“The man is a mess, Aurora.”

I don’t care. I don’t care. I glance away, and Cass sighs.

“All I’ll say is that he misses you, and he regrets what he did to you. You wanted him to listen to you and forgive you; can’t you do the same for him?”

I bite down on my lower lip. “I want to… Honestly. A part of me knows that I’m being unreasonable, but somehow, I can’t bring myself to forgive him completely.”

“Make him grovel.”

“What?”

“Make him beg for your forgiveness, make him be properly ingratiating, make him… I don’t know, make him apologize profusely, enough to soothe your ego, so it becomes easy to forgive him.”

“Maybe you have a point.”

“I know that I have a point.”

“You can be persistent, can’t you?”

“You can thank me later.” She glances off-screen. “I think the deliveries are here. I have to go.”

“Wait.” I scowl. “How do I make him grovel?”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re the brilliant doctor. I’m sure you can think up a plan. I really have to go now.”

“Wait, you-” She disconnects the call.

That’s when the doorbell rings.