Owned by the mafia boss

MIA

I was supposed to escape.

Everyone was distracted with wedding preparations, and it was the perfect time to slip out unnoticed. Instead I spent the day making profiteroles for tomorrow. My side of the family would come for brunch before we headed to the venue. Italians had big appetites, so every surface of the house as was filled with saran-wrapped pastries, fried crab dumplings, roasted fish, and fresh fruit. When the hour hand nudged into the evening, I finally admitted it to myself.

I had feelings for Alessio.

During the hours we were apart, I checked my phone for texts from him. I wondered what he was doing in that huge, empty mansion. I pictured Alessio in a tux, his dimpled smirk softening into a real smile when we first danced as a married couple. He’d won me with his unwavering support and gentle spirit. If I had to marry someone in this life, it should be him.

I grabbed my cell, and my thumb hovered on his name. It was two in the morning, but I couldn’t not tell him. I opened my messages. A heart emoji didn’t quite capture my epiphany, so I deleted the message and wrote a new one.

Me: You up?

Alessio: Wide awake.

I called him.

He answered on the first ring. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

Neither of us said anything. I plucked the courage to speak, and then he chuckled through his nose.

“Need a pep talk?”

“No.”

“No?” Faint shock rippled through the speaker. “Aren’t you nervous?”

“Not about marrying you.” I swallowed what felt like a golf ball, twisting my fingers in sheets. “I wanted to tell you something before we walked the aisle.”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense.”

“I want this. I’m excited. Tomorrow will be a fun day, and I can’t wait to spend it with you.”

Alessio’s silence was like needles on my skin.Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

“I didn’t want you to think I was being forced. That’s-that’s all.” A fierce blush burned my cheeks from Alessio’s muteness. “Things have turned around. I know you don’t trust me-”

“I’m trying, stellina. I really am.”

“I’m happy. I want you, and only you. Don’t worry, I’ll make you believe me.”

“You’ll make me. I like the sound of that. Tell me more.”

I rolled in my bed, sighing. “Only you would turn me pouring my heart out into a sex thing.”

More static, and then-

“Thank you. For saying that.” He paused for several seconds. “We should sleep.”

“Okay.”

“Mia?”

I waited, holding my breath.

“Never mind. Sweet dreams.”

“Bye.”

The screen went black as the call ended.

I imagined him tossing and turning. He was so uncomfortable with feeling beyond lust that his lukewarm response didn’t surprise me. He needed to learn how to give and receive affection. I would help him.

Tap.

I jerked upright.

Tap tap.

It sounded like a rock hitting the window.

I slid from the mattress, wrapping my nightgown tight as I pulled the curtains and peered through the darkness. A white rectangle caught my attention as someone waved their phone.

Who was that?

The light illuminated the feminine curve of a cheek. She outstretched her arm and beckoned. I grabbed a throw and wrapped it around my shoulders. Then I dashed into the hall and crept downstairs, heading outside. The porch light wouldn’t turn on-probably burnt out. I stepped into the night while the freezing chill grabbed my ankles.

“Mia.”

That voice belonged to a dead woman.

No, stop. Stop-

“Mia, it’s me.”

It couldn’t be her. I needed to stop fantasizing and hoping and dreaming.

Her straight nose poked through the blue beam, followed by eyes like mine. The bowed lips I’d always envied twitched. Two small tears slipped down her gaunt cheeks.

Carmela.

This wasn’t grief’s cruel tricks. My sister stood on the lawn.

“Carm?”

“Hey.”

She was alive.

She was whole.

She’d come back to us.

“Carm.” I threw my arms around her and squeezed as the sobs broke through. “I can’t believe it’s you. It’s a fucking miracle. I can’t believe you’re here. I never thought I’d see you again. Everybody said you were dead.”

Wild happiness burst in my stomach. I faced the darkened windows to scream for my parents, to celebrate this blessing.

“Mia, stop.” Carmela held me tight, growling into my ear. “I know you’re excited, but there are things I have to tell you. Privately. Promise me you’ll keep your voice down.”

“You can tell me later. Let’s go inside. Mom and Dad will be thrilled.”

“No!”

“What do y-you mean, no?” My smile faltered when she yanked me toward the evergreen. “We’ve missed you!”

“Dammit, Mia. You’re not hearing me, and we don’t have a lot of time.”

“Time?”

Carmela stepped away and wrenched her hoodie straight. Disturbing details began to surface-the sharp ridges on her shoulders, the loss of fat from her face, and the barely there glimmer in her eyes. She might’ve survived, but she had suffered.

“Mia, I’m not back.”

“What-what are you talking about? You need to eat something, and visit a doctor.”

“No!” She ripped out of my grasp. “No, don’t come closer.”

She was traumatized.

My poor sister.

“Carm, we love you. We miss you. Whatever happened, we’ll get through it together.”

“You’re not hearing me. Please, listen.”

The desperation cracking her words stabbed my heart.

“What should we do?”

“Let’s-let’s take a cab somewhere.”

I nodded, ready to agree to anything. “I’ll go wherever you want, just don’t leave.”

She let me dive into her arms, but Carmela didn’t return the embrace. She trembled like an autumn leaf shaking in the wind.

She was back.

Everything would be fine.

CARMELA RICCI WAS a beauty by anyone’s standards.

Her hourglass shape stood at an impressive height that dwarfed both of our parents. My sister was a statuesque, confident, beautiful woman. So beautiful, I used to agonize over our differences. Her high cheekbones were my source of envy. We’d laughed when a Tinder match she rejected called her a blow-up doll-a crude means of summarizing her over-sexed appearance, which seemed like a gift from Aphrodite. By fourteen, she attracted all kinds of attention-most of it bad.

But my sister was a good girl. Meaning, she took my father’s bullshit about remaining pure for her husband seriously. She’d had relationships, but they were brief because Dad wouldn’t approve. Dad’s plans had no room for romantic attachments, and she was content to marry a mafiosi. When her engagement to Alessio was announced, she sighed and let it roll off her shoulders.

And here she was.

Broken.

My horror at this hunched bird that was Carmela made my palms glisten with sweat. Gone were the curves that had defined my sister. Her confidence, destroyed. Even her clothes looked different. She wore a gray hoodie that dwarfed her-it was neither her size nor her style. She kept the drawstrings tight, as though she could barely stand the world. Before, Carmela would’ve sat with perfect posture and smiled at everyone who glanced our way. Now she flinched when the male server met her gaze.

Something horrible had happened to my sister.

A stack of buttered pancakes and black coffee lay in front of her, but all she did was rest her sallow face into her bony hands.

I wanted to cry. “Carm, eat.”

She didn’t respond.

I leaned over and touched her hand. Carmela jumped a mile, breathing deep, harsh breaths. She blinked out of a fog. Then she cut into a pancake and ate the smallest triangle. She grimaced.

“We really should get you to the hospital.”

“I’m healing. I’ll be fine.”

“You don’t have to tell me everything. I’m just glad you’re alive. It’s been awful. I looked for you. I never gave up, but the detectives told me you were dead. This is like a dream. I keep expecting to snap out of it.”

She picked at her food. “You’ll hate me once I tell you the truth.”

“You’re my sister, and I love you.” The tablecloth blurred as mist blinded my vision. “And nothing will ever change that.”

“You were always good to me.” Carmela wiped two small tears from her pale skin. She grabbed a fistful of tissues, teeth clenched with agony. “And I’ve been the world’s biggest cunt.”

“Don’t say that!”

“It’s true.”

I left my seat and joined her side of the booth, unable to stomach her quiet sobs. I hugged her, and she sagged into my shoulder. My heart broke with every high-pitched gasp until she blurted-

“I wasn’t kidnapped.”

I stroked her hair, swallowing my questions.

“I wanted to leave Alessio and be with another man. Nick,” she whispered. “Everybody calls him Crash. He’s a biker in Legion. I-I met him in a bar. We saw each other in secret.”

My throat tightened. “You never mentioned.”

“I’m sorry. I knew you’d tell me it was a bad idea.” She sniffed hard, wiping her nose. “We weren’t supposed to be together, but he was so different. He took me on dates and treated me like a queen. When I told him my name, he said he didn’t care. That he’d do anything to be with me. I fell for him, Mia. I guess I was waiting for someone to love me.”

She hung her head, her dark mane like brittle straw. “And then Daddy said I had to marry Alessio. I panicked. You heard the stories-what he’s done. I told Nick, and he helped me escape. He staged that crime scene. He paid off the techs.” Her gaze flicked at me, as though terrified I’d hit her. “That’s where I’ve been this whole time. With him.”

“Carmela, it’s in the past–”

“No, it’s not.” A devastating bleakness burst through her words. “I’m sorry. You’ll never know how sorry I am.”

A chill rode my spine. “What do you mean?”

“He hurt me, Mia. He beat me until I thought I’d die, and let me heal so he could torture me again. I-I escaped a month ago, and I’ve been laying low. I only came here for you.”

She gripped my arm, her eyes white all around.

“You can’t marry Alessio.”

“What-why?”

“He’ll do the same thing that Crash did to me. He’ll lure you in with false promises, steal your things-your family, car, clothes-even your makeup. And then when you have no one in your life, and you are a shell of your former self, that’s when he’ll break you. By beating you. Raping you.”

Jesus. “He’s not like that.”

“Wake up, Mia. They’re the same!”

“He wouldn’t. He’d never.”

She moaned, face in her hands again. “I can’t believe this is happening to my little sister. I’m too late. Too fucking late.”

My priority was Carmela’s safety. “Let’s take you home.”

“No. I’m not marrying one of them.”

“Nobody will make you do anything. I’m marrying Alessio. It’s-it’s what I want.”

“You’re falling into the same trap I did. He will eat you alive.”

My lips numbed. I’d forgotten how to form words.

He had taken my freedom. It was like Carmela said-he’d made me dependent on him. I couldn’t leave the house without asking permission, and he destroyed my access to money. He had all the power. It was wrong. Sick. But I hadn’t noticed because I was happy.

I’d talk to him after the ceremony. Alessio cared about my happiness. That had always been the common thread in our discussions. And yet he’d stolen my freedoms. There were never any promises they’d return.

“He’ll change. He has to.”

“People don’t change, Mia. He’s a rotten apple. You need to put as many miles between him and you as possible.”

I checked my watch, the numbers looking strange on my wrist. It was almost four in the morning. “We should get back. We’ll discuss this later.”

“I’m not going home, and neither should you.”

“I’ve lived with him for weeks. He’s sweet with me, Carmela. I can’t abandon him. It’s not right.”

“Alessio came to me.” She seized my hands, digging into my skin. “About a month after I disappeared. He’s known all this time.”

Several moments passed in which the clatter of pots, distant chitchat, the hissing from a skillet, and the blues music swelled into a crescendo. Behind the cacophony, a roar began to build. It pounded like a drum. That’s what I assumed it was until my throbbing pulse thrummed to the forefront.

“He what?”

“He found me with Crash. No idea how.”

The past few months seemed to flash before my eyes-depressing dinners with my family, the pain, the nightmare, the should-haves and should-have-nots, my mother wasting away to a stick while my dad drank himself stupid, crying until I vomited, waking up to screaming fits, and who was at the center of the trauma?

Alessio.

The lying bastard. Two-faced asshole.

Now his insistence for me to move on made sense. Him being in a hurry for everyone to forget my very alive sister. Who needed to be rescued and deserved more than his callous disregard.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed.

Alessio: Found you.

“Oh my God. He’s here. He’s fucking here. Oh shit. He must’ve tracked me on the goddamned app!”

I sprang out of the booth. Carmela followed. She trembled as I dug into my purse. I detached the Toyota key from my ring and crammed it into her palm.

“Why do I need keys?”

“It’s for a car I bought ages ago. Parked at Roy’s Junkyard on seventh. Nobody knows about it. Go before he finds us.”

“Come!”

I wished I could. “It’s too late. Just go!”

“But-”

“Carmela, go!”

Carmela kissed my cheek and dashed out, her hair flying like a banner.

I sank into the cushions, so depressed, I didn’t care about the rapid footsteps. Or the pairs of boots surrounding the table. A man fell into the opposite seat, his arm sweeping the dishes to the side. His fingers curled around my forearm. He yanked me forward, forcing me to meet his fury head-on.

Alessio’s relaxed posture and face were a farce. I sensed the rage in his grip, which became punishing when he held my gaze. “You manipulative, conniving brat. Smart enough to lower my guard. Not enough to leave the phone behind.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

The other guy groaned. John stood beside Alessio, hands in his pockets, looking deeply uncomfortable by the situation.

“Make yourself useful and check the fucking bathrooms,” Alessio snapped. “Then wait outside.”

The smaller man’s ice-like demeanor swept over me as he turned to do just that. I watched as he strolled into the men’s restroom. The sounds of loud bangs echoed throughout the restaurant as I imagined him kicking open the stall doors.

“Who were you meeting?”

I gazed at Alessio, my mouth dry.

What would I say?

I couldn’t tell him about my sister. I needed to buy her a couple of days.

“Nobody.”

“Bullshit.”

John returned from the bathroom, shrugging. “Nothing.”

Alessio’s throat rumbled with a frustrated growl. “Tell me who he is right now.”

“What?”

He glanced at the second coffee cup, his lips curling. “What’s his name?”

Good Lord. He thought I was cheating on him. When the hell would I have had time?

“Nick. Nick Toffoli.”

“There is no Nick Toffoli.” His fingers gouged my flesh as he leaned forward, his eyes rimmed with fire. “Why are you screwing with me? What have I done to deserve this, six hours before our goddamned wedding?”

You knew about Carmela and abandoned her, you lying bastard.

The monster probably relished how he’d duped me. He’d played the concerned in-law so well that a corrosive hatred filled my body. I wanted to wound him as much as he’d ruined me.

“You’re the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

There.

I’d hurt him. It was all over his downturned gaze, as though I had dealt him a staggering blow and had yet to recover. When his attention snapped to me, he’d slipped into a different mask. A feral pain gleamed in his hazel pools, like a rabid wolf that had suffered a severe injury. His anger radiated from somewhere dark he’d kept secret from me.

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll go after what’s left of your family.”

Shit. “You wouldn’t.”

Alessio dragged me closer as the same toxic bile seemed to course under his skin like blood poisoning. His stubble grazed my cheek before his mouth touched the shell of my ear.

“Try me.”