Conquered by the Mafia Boss

“I went out for a bit.”

“Where?” The heat in his voice makes me flinch. “I kept calling you, and you never answered. I thought something might’ve happened to you.”

You’re a coward.

My body feels tense, like a taut rubber band. I’m stretched way too thin, and any moment I’ll snap. Pressure builds behind my eyes: the baby, the wedding, Rafael, all of it. It’s one giant clusterfuck, and now he’s giving me a hard time.

“Well, I’m fine.”

In seconds he’s in my space, hip bumping against mine. Eyes narrowed in disapproval capture my gaze. It’s hard to look at him without feeling incredibly guilty.

“Are you giving me attitude?”

“Yeah, maybe I fucking am.”

He doesn’t deserve this. I know that, but I’m pissed and there’s no one else to blame but him. Because he did, after all, get me fucking pregnant. It was never supposed to be like this. I never wanted to get knocked up from a one-night stand. How fucking trashy is that?

He laughs as I try to push him away and catches my elbow. “Good. I like a girl with attitude. Makes it all the more satisfying when I shove my cock in her mouth.” He runs his thumb over my bottom lip, giving me a look that makes me smolder against my will.

I can’t help but want him.

“You promised me a blowjob, and I intend to get it.”

His sweet breath blows over my lips, and I lean forward, irresistibly drawn to his mouth. I kiss him, and my chest heats up as he deepens it, tongue sliding in my mouth. Damn, I love his fucking body. But-no!

I push his chest gently with my hand, and he gives me a puzzled look. “What’s wrong?”

I’m pregnant.

It hangs over my lips, but I desperately want to keep it a secret. This marriage might as well be real now that I’m pregnant, and I have no idea who this guy is. No idea at all, and I’m having his baby.

“I don’t know you, and we’re getting married in a week.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” he says with a grin. “This was your idea, not mine.”

A sharp, desperate gasp echoes in the room as I imagine the white dress, the ceremony, doctor visits, and all the while, dealing with my ex. Meanwhile I’m pregnant and he has no idea. There’s not an inkling of suspicion in Tony’s eyes that I just might be developing feelings for him.

“I can’t do this anymore. This was a mistake-a stupid, stupid mistake!”

The pressure on both my shoulders increases and suddenly I collapse into a chair, Tony’s fierce face in front of mine.

“Oh no you don’t. You’re not fucking backing out now.”

I bristle under his gaze. “Says who?”

“Aside from the fact that it’s a piss-poor idea, because that lunatic will follow you wherever you go, I say so. We already told everyone about it. It’s too late for last-minute regrets.”

I rise to my feet defiantly, and he pulls my waist toward him. “I want to know the man I’m marrying, even if it’s not real.”

He rolls his eyes. “What difference does it make?”

“It’ll make me feel better.”

Then his arms drop around from my sides and he gets his coat from the closet, handing out mine.

“Where are we going?”

“We’re going out.”

Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. “Why?”

“To get to know each other.”

TONY

The silent white stones lean out of the grassy knoll like strange growths. There are hundreds of them. Faceless tombstones, some of their words unintelligible through countless years of wear and tear. I’m walking over bodies. A cold, clammy feeling flattens my stomach as I climb the hill, Elena not far behind me.

“You brought me to a cemetery?”

Nothing can disguise the fact that one of these days-sooner rather than later-I’ll be sleeping under the ground just like Dad.

“You wanted to know me.”

I slap my hand over my father’s tombstone.Property of Nô)(velDr(a)ma.Org.

VITO ANTONIO VIDAL

BELOVED FATHER AND HUSBAND

(1956 – 1995)

Three lines of text and a hole in the ground. That’s all you get for a lifetime of service to the family. Your kid gets to watch you get buried, gets to watch his mother cry every goddamn day for the rest of his life.

I never wanted to be like him. I never wanted to join the Mafia.

Her eyes pinch together as she reads the inscription, and I suddenly wonder why the hell I brought her here. What does it matter whether she knows me or not?

But she wants to know me-she asked. I never let anyone get close enough to ask me questions. I’d get naked with them before I’d let them ask me a single goddamn thing about myself, not that any of them cared.

All I know is that I just can’t keep this inside me anymore.

She takes a cautious step forward and touches my chest. “How did he die?”

“He was big time. A captain. He became a huge target during this war between several biker gangs in the city. The family backed Les Diables, which made all members targets of the Machine MC. One day, they just popped him. I was ten.”

The pain of that loss still smarts, but it’s duller now.

“I told myself I’d never join the life. I didn’t want to go the same way my father did, leaving behind a wife and kid.”