Arranged Mafia Marriage

Karma

I stand at a distance from the penthouse, not far from Tower Bridge in London. The place belongs to Dr. Weston Kincaid, one of the Seven, as they like to call themselves. Seven billionaires who co-own 7A, one of the leading financial companies in the country. Weston is a friend of Sinclair Sterling, another of the Seven. Sinclair is married to my sister Summer. The one whose wedding I had attended before I had run into my Capo.

I had gone to Summer and Sinclair’s townhouse on Primrose Hill, just as they had been leaving the house. I had grabbed a taxi and followed them here. I had jumped out of the cab and walked toward them as they had left their car and approached the entrance of the building. They had paused halfway and Sinclair had hauled my sister close to him and kissed her… Okay, he had practically devoured her face, if you want to know the truth. The heat between them had been palpable enough that my face had reddened. My toes had curled, and gah! That’s wrong. This is my sister and brother-in-law, for chrissakes! Still, the way they had been going at it, in the open… It had reminded me of how it was with my Capo… My cheating Capo-the asshole who’d decided to have his dick sucked by another woman, making sure that you’d see it, remember? Ahead, Sinclair had finally released Summer, who’d laughed. She’d reached up and rubbed the lipstick off of his mouth. “Your friends are going to know what we have been up to.”

“Like I bloody care?” Sinclair had snorted. “Honestly, I’d rather have stayed home with you, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to surprise the twat, Weston in his love nest.”

That’s when I’d realized where they were going.

“You’d have hated it if they had done the same to us.” She’d giggled.

“All the more reason to spring the surprise on him.” He’d smirked.

Another car had driven up, and that’s when I had fallen back. I had darted away behind a parked van. Then peeked around it in time to see Saint, another of the Seven, get out of the driver’s seat. He’d walked around to open the door to the passenger’s side and Victoria had gotten out. Huh? I guess Victoria is with Saint now? What else have I missed in the time that I have been away?

Clearly, the entire group is converging at Weston’s. Of course, they are. It’s Christmas, right? They want to be together to celebrate.

I’d peeked around the side of the van again and seen Summer moving forward to greet Victoria with a kiss. Guess my sister has found her tribe. Her people. Her husband…

And me? Shit, I’d had it all…and lost it… I flatten my palm against my stomach and tears slide down my cheeks. I have to stop breaking down at the least provocation. I can’t go through life always thinking of what I could have had. I need to focus on the now, on what I still have. Myself… My health… And I still have my new friends, Aurora and Cassandra…who know what I have been through. And I have Andy, of course.

I wipe away my tears, glance around the van just as another car draws up. Jace and his wife Sienna, both friends of Sinclair, step out. Then Jace reaches into the back seat, and a few minutes later, emerges with a baby carrier.

The group exchanges greetings, the women kiss, they coo over the baby, then all of them enter the building. I take a step forward, then stop. If I go in there now, I’ll have to confront all of them, and honestly, that’s the last thing I want to do right now. Guess I’ll just have to find another time.

I hunch my shoulders, turn away and begin walking down the road. The hair on the back of my neck rises. I glance around. What the hell caused that feeling? Am I being watched? I look up and down the road. The sensation fades and I start walking again. I reach the end of the road, glance around for a cab, but can’t see any. I hear a noise behind me and stiffen. My heart begins to race; my pulse pounds at my temples. Shit, where’s a taxi when you need it, eh? I increase my speed and head for the tube station that I remember passing on my way here. Footsteps sound behind me, and I break into a run. I race down the street, turn another corner and see the entrance to the tube station ahead. Thank god! My breath comes in huffs as I run toward it. I am almost there when someone grabs my shoulder.

“No,” I yell as I try to pull free, “let me go. Now!”This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org: ©.

“Beauty?”

“No, no, no,” I struggle wildly, “don’t fucking come near me.”

“Language, Beauty.”

I blink, then pause. I am turned around and find myself staring at a broad chest, clad in a plain white T-shirt that outlines the sculpted planes. A black jacket that has seen better days clings to his broad shoulders. The dark, masculine scent that could only belong to one man envelops my senses. I swallow, refuse to look up. He notches his knuckles under my chin and applies pressure. I tilt my chin up and meet his cold blue gaze.

“You?” I whisper. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you.”

“No,” I try to pull away, but his grip tightens. “You told me to leave, remember?”

“And I came after you.”

“You cheated on me.”

He shakes his head, “I only pretended to.”

“A likely story,” I snap. “I was there, buster. I saw you, remember?”

“You thought you saw her going down on me-” I wince and his jaw hardens. “The mind can play tricks on you, so you think you see what you expect to see.”

“Your pants were unzipped.”

“I had my boxers on.”

“I saw her bob her head.”

“Larissa’s a good actress.”

“Larissa!” I spit out. “That woman again? You let her touch you? You let her put her hands on you again?”

He frowns, “She doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“You wrapped her hair around your fingers and pretended you enjoyed what she was doing to you.”

“I did what I thought was right.”

“Well, this is me doing what I think is right, too.” I try to knee him in the groin but he swerves. My knee brushes against his hard thigh instead and I stumble. His grip tightens. He pulls me toward him so I fall against his chest.

“Listen to me, Beauty,” he growls.

“Don’t call me that you…you asshole.”

“Beauty,” his voice lowers to a hush, “just give me a chance to explain.”

“No.”

“I had a reason for what I did.”

“Nothing you say can justify what you did to me.”

“I did it to save your life.”

“Ha!” I scoff, “That’s how men justify getting away with dipping their dicks in other vaginas.”

“The only vagina I want to dip my dick in is yours.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“How can I make you believe it?”

“You can’t.”

“I can, and I will.” He hauls me to him and my breasts flatten against his chest. “I sent you away because I needed the word to spread that we had separated.”

“Uh-huh, sure.” I turn my head so I don’t have to gaze into his eyes. If I do, I’ll be lost. Asshole will use his charm, his ability to influence me to get me to do what he wants.

“Don’t you see? After what happened, after almost losing you… And our child. After losing my brother, I couldn’t…risk anything else happening to you.”

My pulse rate ratchets up and my ribcage tightens. I try to draw in a breath and my throat burns. My head spins and flickers of black dot the edges of my vision. To think, I went through the car blast and the surgery without it coming to light, only for my heart to act up now. Of course, no-one in Italy had access to my medical records, and unless I had revealed it, the doctors would not have had any way to know. Still… This is so not the time for my ailment to make itself known. Sweat beads my forehead and a black hole opens up where my heart should be.

“What’s wrong?” He scowls down at me, “What’s happening, Beauty?”

I shake my head, try to regulate my breathing. In-out-in, I will my heartbeat to slow down, for my pulse to stop hammering in my wrists.

“Karma?” He cups my face and turns me to face him, “Talk to me, baby. Are you okay?”

“Y…yes,” I cough.

His features pale. “Cazzo, you’re definitely not okay.”

I sway and he makes an angry noise at the back of his throat. He scoops me up in his arms and I slap my hand against his shoulder.

“Put me down.”

“No.” He turns, walks back the way we came.

“Where are you going?” I glance up the street. “Why are you going this way?”

“I am taking you to my car.” He walks faster.

At least, we are not on the same street as Weston’s penthouse. So, there’s less of a chance of running into my sister or any of the Seven. He reaches a black Maserati-of course, it’s a Maserati that he’s driving, even in London-and unlocks it. He opens the passenger door, slides me onto the seat, then leans over me. He buckles my seatbelt and his big body dwarfs mine for a few seconds. The scent of him intensifies, my core clenches, and my mouth waters. Then he moves back and I sag against the seat. I wipe my damp palms on my thighs and try to fight the weakness that grips my limbs. I draw in another deep breath and my nostrils flood with the dark, edgy scent that is so very Mika. My toes curl, even as my heart refuses to let up its relentless hammering. Shit, shit, shit. Even stuck in the middle of these heart palpitations, I can’t stop myself from being aroused.

Apparently, being away from him has only made the yearning I feel for him so much worse. He walks around to take his place behind the wheel. He starts the car, eases it onto the road. There’s silence as he drives forward.

I close my eyes, focus on my breathing, on willing my muscles to relax, on bringing the trembling in my arms and legs under control. My body slowly responds, and by the time I feel like myself again, a good ten minutes must have passed. I finally open my eyes, take in the familiar surroundings of Park Lane. “Where are you going?” I turn to him.

“To your hotel.”

“To my hotel?” I frown. “You know where I am staying?” I shake my head, “Of course, you know where I am staying.”

We don’t speak for a few more seconds, then I burst out, “Why did you come after me, Michael?”

“Because I had to.”

“Bullshit,” I wrap my arms around my waist, “you asked me to leave, then not even forty-eight hours pass, and you turn up after me.” I rake my fingers though my hair, “I mean, this is just…crazy.”

“What is?”

“This entire, elaborate, set-up-you breaking up with me-”

“Pretending to break up with you.”

“Then putting me on your plane and getting me out of there, only to follow me.”

“I hadn’t intended to come,” he says in a low voice, “but I couldn’t help myself.”

“Gee, thanks,” I murmur.

“That was a compliment,” a thread of humor runs through his words.

I shoot him a sideways glance, “I still don’t believe that you fabricated that entire scene.”

“Sure, you do.”

“Eh?” I turn to him, “Care to explain yourself?”

“In your heart of hearts, you knew that I wasn’t capable of cheating on you.”

I scoff, “I am not a mind reader.”

“You know me Beauty. You know how much I care for you.”

“If you did, you would have taken me into your confidence and explained your plans. But you didn’t.”

He stays quiet.

“If you did actually consider me your wife-”

“Which I do.”

“If you considered me your partner, you’d treat me as your equal. You’d share your plans with me…not… Pull that stupid shit like you did… where you upset me so much that I leave you.”

“I needed it to look authentic.”

“To whom? The only people there were you, me and…”

He nods.

“Oh,” I blink rapidly. “OH! You mean Larissa… She…”

“Is enough of a gossip that, by now, all of Palermo knows that my wife has left me.”

I think for a minute. “But if you were pretending, she knows that too.”

“As far as she knows, I just wanted her to pretend so that you would leave. I implied there might be room for her after you were gone, but…” he shrugs.

“Hmmm. Do they know that you’ve come after me?”

He shoots me a glance and I raise my hands. “Hey, I’m only asking. I mean, you took the plane-”

“A private plane.”

“Landed in London, and now you are driving around in this Maserati-”

“I cleared immigration through a private channel, whose agents are sworn to secrecy, and do you know how many Maseratis are in London?”

I shake my head.

“Let’s just say that, while it’s not my favorite city, god knows the Brits are too uptight for me, still, one advantage of being here is that it’s difficult to track anyone.”

“Yeah, but you with your bodyguard and your brothers… You guys draw attention wherever you go…” my voice trails off. “So, you ditched your bodyguard?”

He nods.

“Do your brothers know where you are?”

He doesn’t answer.

“So, they don’t know you are here, either?”

He continues to focus on the road and I turn on him, “Michael, is that wise? You here on your own, without any security?”

“You worried about me?”

I snort, “Not that you can’t take care of yourself, but I am told that you are an international fugitive, so…”