Conquered by the Mafia Boss

She ignores Johnny as she steps around him, her eyes already swimming with tears as she frees an arm to hug me. God, it’s been so long since I’ve seen her.

“I’ve missed you.” I wrap my arms around her and swallow the lump in my throat. “Sorry, I wasn’t allowed to visit.”

“I know,” she says in a tight voice. Maya pulls away and the baby’s fist wraps around my jacket, refusing to let go.

“This is Matteo.”

Every thread of resentment I have toward Maya dissolves into air like lingering smoke as I look into his beaming face.

“Hi, Matteo!” I gently disengage his fist from my jacket, and he curls his fingers around my hand. “He’s so sweet. Can I hold him?”

Maya nods, smiling widely, and then suddenly Johnny appears out of nowhere. Extreme distrust narrows his face and I back away from him, bumping into Jack’s solid chest.

“Tommy, take my wife outside.”

One of his captains, a lean, brutal-looking man, rises from his seat and nods.

“Sorry, ladies. We have business to discuss.”

My heart falls as Maya gives me an apologetic smile. “We’ll catch up later.”

“Okay.”

The joy from meeting my cousin’s baby fizzles like a firework dud.

The mob boss gestures to his wife’s vacant seat. “Sit.”

Jack takes Tommy’s place as the table resumes with conversation. He leans in over his boss’s plate.

“She’s agreed to go through with it.”

Johnny nods as he picks up his fork and eats his plate of pasta, giving me a wary glance.

“I need you both to understand that the CSIS will suspect that this marriage is a sham.”

“It is a sham.”

“I know that, wiseass. They’ll have people undercover, watching you. If there’s even a shred of evidence, the whole fucking thing goes through. You will act like a couple. You will go on dates. We’ll have a wedding with all your family, the whole shebang.”

My fingers curl into the white tablecloth as a sullen look comes over Jack’s face.

This was not what he expected.

“Not all the guests at the wedding will know.”

“Jesus, John.”

“What, you have a problem with this?”

“Yeah, I have a fucking problem. I didn’t realize-”

Johnny’s laughter cuts him off. “That what? You’re going to be married to her for years. I hope you can learn to stand each other.”

From the look on his face, not bloody likely.

He gives John a humorless smile. “Yeah. Fucking wonderful.”

Years. We’ll have to spend years pretending we’re not miserable together. It almost makes me wish I had just taken a flight out of here.

“Jesus. It’s not that bad.”

“Really?” he snaps. “I’m marrying one of them.”All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

His seething tone hits me square in the chest.

I don’t want to marry you, either. Asshole.

“She won’t be one of them once you’re married. She’ll be one of us.”

Jack irons his face with his hands.

“It could be a lot worse. Suck it up and enjoy being out of jail.”

I lean forward, choosing that moment to speak. “Will I get to visit my cousin?”

Johnny’s smooth face turns toward me. “We’ll see.”

My chest deflates at the coolness in his voice. “When would we have the wedding?”

“As soon as possible. You need to get interviewed by the cops.”

As soon as possible.

The clattering of knives and forks clashes in my ears, suddenly extremely loud. I stand up from the table without realizing it, blood roaring, the subtle thump of my heartbeat like ominous drums. Distantly I hear Johnny tell Jack that the wedding will take place a couple days from now. Jack shakes his hand and stands up again.

Jack slides an arm around my waist and leads me out of the room. We walk through the restaurant in a haze until finally we’re outside and I breathe a gulp of fresh air.

I’ll be married to the man I’m walking next to in a couple days. I want to feel better, but how can I when I’m with him?

We drive back to his place in complete silence. It’s nearly 1:00 a. m. by the time we get back. My head reels from the meeting with Johnny. He parks his car in front of his brownstone and I follow him inside. My insides battle with my desire to get away from him and the fact that I really don’t want to be alone right now.

I turn around as he locks the door, the sound sending a thrill through me. When he faces me, it’s scary. He looks ready to kill, and he shrugs out of his jacket, hurling it to the floor. I’m afraid to touch him. To look at him.

“I’ll see you when we get married.” He lets me go with suspicion narrowing his eyes, and as soon as the door closes I feel it as though it happens inside me.

BEATRICE

My wedding day.