#1 Chapter 29
“I want to-to pay you to do something for me.” “To-to marry me. I have fifty thousand dollars in cash.”
It sounds just as stupid as I thought it would, and I want to evaporate on the spot.
A strange expression suddenly contorts Tony’s face. It takes a moment before I realize that he’s actually scared of me. Because he thinks I’m nuts.
Then the irony of a six-foot-something Mafioso actually fearing me hits me hard, and I nearly burst.
He shifts in his chair. “Uh-”
This is life and death.
“This is the only way to get Rafael off my back,” I say quickly, my face a shade of fuchsia, I’m sure. “I can’t get rid of him.”
He looks at me as though he’s concerned for my sanity.
“That’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard of. It is fucking ridiculous. Marry you? Are you fucking crazy?”
His indignant tone pisses me off.
“Since you’re a genius, you tell me what to do.”
“Get a fucking gun and just kill him.” He mimes with his fingers. Pop-pop.
I give him a hollow laugh. “And when Vincent finds out, then what? I’m just as fucked, and that’s assuming I can actually kill him and get rid of his body.”
The very idea fills me with revulsion. As much as I hate Rafael, I’m not a violent person, and blood disgusts me. I wouldn’t even know how to get rid of a body.
Tony crosses his arms, thinking, and then he shakes his head with a boom of laughter. “You know, I knew there was something off about you the moment you grabbed my cock in the bar. Amazing in bed, but completely fucking nuts.”
Oh fuck you.
My face burns again, this time flushed with the embarrassment of his insult. “I’m not crazy. I need to be married to a made guy, or I am dead.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Yeah, it fucking is,” I fire back. “It’s also the only thing that’ll keep me alive.”
Tony plays with the silverware on the table, tapping the butt end of the knife on the wood as he looks at me.
“Fifty-thousand dollars for a few months’ work isn’t ridiculous. It’s fair.”
Another snort of laughter leaves him and he drops the knife. He covers his mouth with both hands, his eyes alive with mirth. I should have known he wasn’t going to take me seriously.
I slam my purse on the table and stand up abruptly.
Suddenly his attitude turns. His hands lie flat on the table as the humor wipes from his face, and he looks at me with a paralyzing stare.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
“I won’t be laughed at,” I snarl, suddenly hating everything about him right down to his smug smirk. He doesn’t know what the fuck I’m going through.
“I’m really not the guy you go to for this shit.”
“I’m aware of that, but I’m short on time, and I’ll be paying you, for fuck’s sake. It’s just another job.”
“It’s extreme.”
You want to see what I’m fucking running from, asshole?
In front of the whole restaurant, I lift up my shirt, stopping just below my bra.
Black eyebrows narrow dangerously at me. “What the fuck are you doing? This is a nice place. You can’t disrespect-”
“Look.”
I point at the huge purple bruise stretching over the side of my abdomen, the dark horror that he missed under the sheets. His face sobers immediately.
“He did that?” His voice sounds uncomfortable.
“There’s more,” I say in a toneless voice, dropping my shirt.
“That looks pretty serious.”
“That’s the fucking point.”Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.
“I meant that you should see a doctor.”
“I don’t need a fucking doctor. A doctor won’t help me stay alive the next few days. You just-you don’t understand what it’s like. I’m scared, and this is the only thing I can think of.”
Tears thicken my voice, and I hate that I can’t keep it together in front of this guy.
He sighs and wipes his hand down his face. “Sit down.”
Trembling, I return to my seat and ball my fists on my knees.
Tony begins talking in a softer voice. “I’m telling you, it’s a bad idea. No one will believe it.”
“Who cares if they don’t believe it? I just need to be married, right?”
He buries his face in his hands. “What the fuck do you think this is, the boy scouts? No-not if people think it’s fake. Besides, if Johnny found out, I’d have to give him tribute.”
Shit.
“Well-“