Married to the Mafia Boss

DominicThis content © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

To say I don’t sleep well is an understatement. I toss and turn the whole night, having painkiller-fueled dreams about Sofia and bees. It’s like I’ve taken acid or something, and I’m tripping.

The smell of bacon and eggs wakes me up. I sniff the air and lick my lips. I feel parched, and I cough lightly. My chest hurts a little.

My hand and face still ache, but the swelling is gone from my hand, so I go to the bathroom and drink some water, swallowing two painkillers just in case. My face looks slightly better. I can see out of both eyes, at least.

Once dressed, I head downstairs, following Sofia’s soft hums to the kitchen. The sound of the sizzling bacon is music to my ears, and I’m surprised to see two places set at the island counter in the middle of the kitchen.

“Good morning,” I say gruffly.

“Morning,” she says.

She’s wearing a summery dress, and she has legs for days. I can’t help but give her an appreciative once over.

“You were pretty out of it. Are you feeling better?” she asks, sliding the bacon onto a serving plate. “I made your eggs sunny side up. Is that OK?”

I blink, slightly confused, then startle slightly when the toaster pops up suddenly. I frown. What is wrong with me? Sofia chuckles.

I take a deep breath and smooth my hair. “Yes, thank you for your help last night. I appreciate it. Sunny side up is perfect, thanks.”

I don’t offer to help. My mom always hated it if the guys tried to do anything in the kitchen, so I sit at the island counter and watch her.

She starts humming again, a song I don’t recognize, and she sways her hips to the imaginary music as she moves around the kitchen.

Soon enough, a plate with buttered toast, two eggs, and a heap of bacon is in front of me.

“What do you want to drink?” she asks, holding up a bottle of orange juice.

“That’s fine,” I feel uneasy and very uncomfortable. She was so pissed with me yesterday, and today, she’s being so nice. “You didn’t poison the food, did you?”

“I wouldn’t tell you if I did.” She grins. “No, I just felt like bacon and eggs and decided to make you some too.”

“Well, you’ll make an excellent housewife one day,” I comment, picking up my knife and fork.

She gives me a strange look as though there’s something horrid on my face. “Seriously? Can we stop with the good girl comments already? Jesus, what century are you from.”

She picks up her plate, utensils, and juice and walks out in a huff.

I watch her leave, confused about what I’ve said this time to irritate her. Jesus, fuck, she is infuriating. She’s so damn emotional, and this is why I bottle my emotions because you act like a twit if you let your emotions rule your life.

The emotions I’m feeling confuse me. She irritates me, but at the same time, I find her so fascinating. Dammit, I need to clear my head.

“I’m going out,” I yell, leaving my half-eaten food on the counter. “I’ll be back later.”

She doesn’t answer, but I grab the keys and leave, not bothering to look for her.

I drive to Alessandro and let myself in.

“Hey, what’s up?” Alessandro asks me, looking up from some papers.

“This is a bad idea,” I bark. “She should stay with one of our cousins or with Arianna. That would be a better idea.”

Alessandro sighs and rubs his forehead. “It’s not up for discussion. Just deal with it, Dominic. I’ve never known you to be so whiny.”

I glare at him. “She is impossible to look after or to live with.”

“I said make it work,” my brother snaps. “What you need is something to take your mind off things. We’ve captured one of the Catalan soldiers. I need information on their operations here in New York. Why don’t you go let out your frustrations on him?”

I clench my teeth but nod. He’s making it sound like he’s doing me a favor, but we both know it’s not a request. It’s an order.

I walk up to his desk. “Where?”

“At our warehouse in Brooklyn, the downtown one. You’ll find him there with some of the guys. Try not to kill him too soon. Get as much information as you can,” he says.

I nod, turn on my heel, and walk toward the door, but he says, “Dominic, don’t lose your shit with me, or we’ll have a problem. Whether you’re my brother or not, don’t forget your place in this family.”

I’ve never been scolded for my behavior before because I’ve always fallen in line. Now though, I feel ashamed. I’ve never acted like this, and I need to get it under control.

I take the car to Brooklyn and park it at the back of the warehouse. I walk in and see the various workers moving stolen goods, and I ignore them, heading upstairs to the office.

When I walk in, I see a man on the office chair. One hand is tied to each arm, and his legs are tied to each leg. Three of my cousins are there, and they look at me when I walk in.

“Alessandro wants me to get information,” I say.

They nod and step back. I walk over to the table where various weapons are on display. Clearly, my cousins were about to start this little show. I’m glad I didn’t miss it.

I pick up a nail gun and walk over.

“I won’t tell you anything,” the heavily accented man spits in my direction.

“I didn’t ask you anything yet,” I say, aiming for his hand and shooting a nail into it. He cries out, and I pause, watching him squirm. After a few minutes, I shoot one in his other hand. If I don’t kill him today, the infection will eventually. It’s easier to kill him, though, and get rid of the body now.

I shoot eleven nails into his arms before I aim for his kneecap. I shoot one into his knee, and he screams. If it bothers anyone outside of this room, there’s no way to know. Our workers know not to interfere.

“Are you ready to get started?” I ask with a smug smile.

He looks at me with anger, fear, and pain in his eyes as I aim for his other knee. “We can do both your legs. I don’t mind.”

I move to squeeze the trigger, but he shouts, “No! Please, Jose will kill me if I say anything.”

“We’ll kill you anyway, and he hasn’t sent a rescue party, so either I can spend the next few days torturing you, reviving you, and torturing you again, or I can give you a merciful death.”

He looks up at me. The defiance is back, so before he says anything, I put a nail through his other knee. He shrieks in pain, rocking back and forth. The problem is the nails don’t rock back and forth, so they tear at his flesh.

He whimpers, hanging his head.

I get the blow torch next. “I doubt you’ll need both your eyes. I love the look of a runny eye after I’ve had eggs. It reminds me of breakfast. Most important meal of the day, you know.” I turn the blow torch on and approach him slowly.