Arranged Mafia Marriage

Michael

I lean back in the chair in my office at Venom. By rights, I should be out there in the room that my crew and I use whenever I am here. But that hit to the head did a number on me. Because I refuse to take the painkillers, the pain is a constant heaviness behind my eyes. And the last thing I want to face is the constant throb of the music that pulses through the nightclub. I bring the glass of whiskey to my lips, then hesitate. I am taking antibiotics… And the doctor had warned me not to mix alcohol with it… But fuck that. You only live once… And right now, I need something to take refuge in. Considering I just disowned my darling wife…All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

I had called her my whore… And that look of absolute shock, and confusion… and sadness on her face… Merda, it had almost gutted me. I tighten my grip around my glass, then bring it to my mouth and throw back the contents. The whiskey burns a path down my throat. It hits my stomach and heat explodes in my gut. Too bad it doesn’t fill the emptiness that tears at my insides. I place the glass on the table with a thump, just as the door to my office opens. The throbbing of the music instantly fills the space. Seb walks in, followed by Massimo, then Adrian, Christian and Xander. The door shuts, cutting of the music once more.

Porca miseria! “What the hell are you stronzi doing here?”

Massimo bypasses Seb and walks over to the bar on the far side of the room. He grabs five glasses, then stalks over to me. He places the glasses on my desk, and fills them up, including mine, before placing the now empty bottle on the surface. “Salute, fratellone,” he clinks his glass with mine. Christian and Xander snatch up a glass each. Only Seb folds his arms across his chest as he glowers down at me.

“What?” I frown, “The fuck you looking at me like that?”

“Feeling guilty, yet?” His gaze intensifies.

“Why should I feel guilty?” I take another sip of my whiskey, then survey the contents of my glass, “If this is about her-”

“Of course, it’s about her,” Seb growls. “The state in which you left her… You should be ashamed of yourself.”

I chuckle, “And you are… what? An expert in relationships?”

“More than you, for sure.” He rocks forward on the balls of his feet, “I understand you are upset with her. I know you can’t get over the fact that she injured you and ran-”

“Injured me and left me for dead.”

“You weren’t even close to dying.” He mutters, “You have too thick a head for that.”

The wound at my temple pulses as if in agreement. The headache behind my eyes increases in intensity. “She spent the night alone with Luca,” I snap.

“She’d never be unfaithful to you,” Xander insists.

“No, she’d only leave with another man.” I fold my fingers at my side.

“You need to be more broadminded in your outlook, fratellone,” he chides. “Luca would never betray you.”

“And yet he did.”

Xander grimaces, “Have you asked her if anything happened with Luca?”

I glare at him.

“So, you are just drawing conclusions based on circumstantial evidence?”

“Are you saying I should forget what she did to me?” I retort.

“I am saying that you should treat her with a little more sensitivity.”

“Wait until you meet a woman who gets under your skin, and then have her try to kill you and walk away from you, then we’ll see how you react.”

“You admit that she’s gotten under your skin?” Massimo smirks. “Also, are you sure she tried to kill you?”

“I admit to no such thing.” I scowl, “I only meant that as a figure of speech, and,” I roll my shoulders, “as to the answer to your second question, the intent in her eyes when she took the oar to my head was very much about keeping me away from her.”

“Maybe she panicked? Maybe the oar slipped from her hands?” Seb strokes his chin, “Have you considered that?”

“She hit me on the head. Twice.” I tip up my chin at him. “Trust me when I say that the second time it was clearly with an intent to hurt.”

“Maybe she was simply trying to hold you off. After all, you did kidnap her and force her to marry you.”

After which, I had made love to her. Damn it, those couple of days when it had been just the two of us on the island, when we had consummated the wedding… When I had fucked her and poured my heart, my soul…my cum into her. When I had made her mine, and… she… she had walked away from me.

“Vaffanculo!” Christian smirks. “The Capo has tied himself up in the proverbial knots.”

I glower at the most irritating of all my brothers. Christian has the face of a model and the IQ of a genius. It’s one of the reasons he’s in charge of my finances. The man keeps all of the figures in his head, never gets his numbers wrong. He’s also blessed with eidetic memory, which means he has a nearly perfect photographic memory of most things he sees. Which he often uses to his advantage. Which means he’s normally one step ahead of most people. Just not me… Except this time, he, clearly, is.

I reach for the bottle of liquor, then frown. “You guys finished my booze.”

“You’re on antibiotics, aren’t you?” Christian scowls at me, “Should you even be drinking?”

“Mind your own damn business, fratellino,” I growl.

He raises an eyebrow, “Clearly, fighting with the wife has not improved your disposition.” He chuckles.

“Hey,” I glance around at their faces, “thought you guys were on my side.”

“We are,” Adrian murmurs. “It’s why we are looking out for you, fratellastro.”

“Seems more like an intervention,” I growl.

“What if it is?” Seb drawls, “It’s not every day that our Capo goes a little pazzo.” He smirks, “I wouldn’t miss this chance for anything.”

“Fuck off.” I snap, and Seb chuckles.

“Seems you’re angry enough to use English swear words instead of your favorite Italian ones.”

I glare at him and he merely laughs. “Gesu Cristo,” he drawls. “This entire incident is affecting you more than expected, huh?”

I take in the expression on the faces of all the guys… There’s concern and worry, and yeah…love, too. Fuck, I must be completely losing it if I am actually picking up on the emotions from them. Not that I’ve doubted for one second that my brothers and stepbrothers love me… Okay, so maybe with Seb, I’ve always been sure that he wouldn’t hesitate to betray me. Seems I was wrong. Seems I should have been more worried about my wife…and my own brother. Luca… Damn it, how could Luca do this to me?

“You are thinking about him, aren’t you?” Xander’s voice interrupts my thoughts. Of course, my youngest sibling picks up on my disquiet. He always has been the most empathetic, the most instinctive of all of us.

I glance toward him, then nod.

“It’s okay to share your concerns with us, big brother.” His lips curve, “We are family, after all. It’s what we do. We talk, we air our worries, we support each other.”

“That’s what I thought about Luca, then see what he did.”

Silence descends, then Seb straightens to his full height. “Take that back,” he growls. “Everyone in this room is here because they are concerned about you.”

“I don’t fucking need it,” I snap. “Speaking of, I am tired of this emo shit. Why the hell don’t you guys get the hell out of here?”

No one moves. They stare at me, with varying degrees of sympathy. Merda, that’s all I need, my own family looking on as I fall apart in front of them. To think, I had sworn never to appear weak in front of them. I stare down into the depths of my empty glass, “Che cazzo, I need a refill.”

Xander steps over to the bar. He leans over, grabs a new bottle, then walks back to my desk. He opens the bottle, tops me up, then places the bottle within reach.

I toss back the liquor and it burns its way down my throat. My stomach protests; my head spins. Shit, maybe I’m weaker than I thought. Guess that blow to the head really has affected me more than I realized.

Xander leans forward on the balls of his feet, “You’re hurting, fratellone. It’s understandable. Losing both your wife and your most trusted confidant and friend in one go, it’s not easy. Hell, it would have felled a lesser man.”

“But not me,” I declare.

“Not you,” he agrees, his expression filled with understanding. Shit, that’s all I need: Xander’s particular brand of empathy that would most definitely prompt me to open up about my fears, my anger, my utter disappointment at having been cast aside… Like I don’t mean anything to either of them.

Just like my father has only ever needed me to the extent that he needs an heir, someone to carry on his legacy. He’s never seen me as anything else. Not his son, not a child who needed someone to look up to. He had been my hero and he had destroyed me. Abused me until I had begun to look at the world with suspicion, with mistrust. Something that I have never gotten over. No wonder her turning her back on me had sent me into such a spiral. And now, I am psychoanalyzing myself. Shit, enough of this emo shit.

I set down my glass, then rise to my feet, “If you all think I am going to sit around and commiserate about the loss of my wife and brother, you are mistaken.”

“They are lost,” Xander frowns, “but not in the way you are making it out to be. They just need to be guided back home. You need to only speak to them, Mika. Open your heart to your wife; talk to her. Reach out to Luca; forgive him; talk to him about how the two of you can work together and-”

“Enough,” I snap. “You’re the youngest, Xander, and in many ways, the most thoughtful of all us. You mean well. It’s why I have tolerated your reactions thus far. But don’t think you can tell me what I should feel toward what happened. They both betrayed me, and shall be suitably punished.”

“But-”

I raise my hand. “I am leaving, now, and I expect the lot of you to track down Luca, and bring him to me.” I turn to Seb, “You have ten days.”