Married to the Mafia Boss

Kira

Once the guards leave me in the bedroom, I limp over to the bed and lie down. My ankle is aching terribly, and I wish I had some painkillers. I rest back on the bed and stare at the ceiling, trying to ignore the throbbing pain.

I won’t be able to try to escape again if my ankle is sprained because it will stop me from running. I need to come up with another plan to get out.

Miguel is probably my only way out. Perhaps if I can convince him to take me somewhere outside the house, I could slip away and get a message to my cousins. Maybe I could seduce Miguel. If he ever had real feelings for me, that could work.

I groan as I get up and limp to the bathroom. I splash water on my face before I hunt down a pen and paper. I need fresh clothes and toiletries. If I’m going to try something, I can’t smell like soil and sweat.

I rummage around the bedside table and find a pen and paper. I sit down with my leg propped up and begin to scribble the things I will need while I’m being held captive. Maybe I can lull them into a false sense of security if I play along for a bit.

I hobble to the door and open it, looking at the guard.

“Don Rossi said I could give you a list of what I needed. Here it is.” I hold out the paper to the surly-looking man, and he takes it.

He doesn’t move, though, and I notice another guard on the other side. Even if the surly one takes the list to Miguel, there’s still someone else watching the room.

I shut the door and hobble back to the bed, exhausted now from the effort. I crawl under the sheet, leaving the duvet to the side. Too much pressure on my foot, and I feel like I might die.

I don’t remember falling asleep, but the next thing I know, my door is swinging open, and a woman talking loudly comes in.

I sit bolt upright and wince as my ankle twinges.

“Who are you?” I demand to know, glaring at the woman. I don’t know what Miguel is up to, but I don’t trust anyone he sends.

“Hello, sweetheart. Don Rossi said that you hurt your ankle. I need to take a look at it.” She sets a medical bag on the chair beside the bed.

“Why? What are you going to do to me?” I ask, trying to shuffle away.

She reaches out. “Try not to move. You could make it worse. I’m a doctor, and I just want to see how badly it’s hurt and set it if I have to.”

I eye her out. I don’t trust any of Miguel’s people, but if this woman is going to help or at least give me a painkiller, I’ll let her. Then it dawns on me that maybe she will help me further.

I shift my weight to sit up with my legs extended in front of me. She lifts the sheet and pulls it down to reveal my legs. She sits at the bottom of the bed and gingerly takes my foot in her hand. She moves it slowly, and I wince.

“How bad is the pain?” she asks, although she’s staring at the opposite wall as though she’s daydreaming.

“Not terrible now. I can hobble long around the room.” I wince again as she moves it slowly. “I’d love a painkiller, though.”

The doctor smiles graciously at me. “I think that’s all you need. Some painkillers and a day of rest, and you should be fine. It doesn’t seem to be anything serious.”

She starts to rummage in her bag, and I whisper, “Can you help me?”

“I’m here to help you,” she says, looking at me confused.

“No, I mean. I’m Kira Sorvino. I’m being held hostage here. I need to get a message to my cousin Alessandro Sorvino. Can you help me, please? Please! They might kill me.” I look at her with pleading, wide eyes.

She looks shaken, and my hope slowly rises, but she quickly pulls a bottle out of her bag and hands it to me. “Take two every four hours. I have to go.”

“Wait,” I call, “please!”

The doctor hurries out of the room, and I groan and fall back into the pillows. I’m not alone long, though, as the door soon opens again, and Miguel walks in carrying a food tray.

“I thought you might be hungry,” he says, though there’s no trace of warmth in his voice. I shift my legs so he can set the tray on the bed. “Eat it while it’s hot.”

“I’m not hungry, actually,” I say, trying to keep my distance.

“You need to eat if you want to take the painkillers the doctor gave you.” He reaches for a pitcher of what looks like orange juice on the tray and fills the empty glass beside it.

It would be a tender moment if he weren’t so rigid and cold.

“I’m having a dress and shoes sent up for you. I picked a pair of flat ones because of your ankle. You’re to dress and join me for dinner tonight. Perhaps we can arrange some comforts for you while you stay with us.” He stands up. “Don’t be late. I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

He walks out and shuts the door behind him. This isn’t the boy I knew from university. There’s no passion there, no fire and love for life. This is a man molded after his father. Every last emotion has been beaten out of him.

For a brief moment, I wonder if it’s my fault. If it’s because I left. Surely not. Our love was passionate but brief, and we both knew our families would disapprove.

I eat lunch, and with some difficulty, I move the tray to the chair so I can lie down again. I look out the window. I can see the blue skies from where I’m resting, and I wonder if I can keep my snotty attitude to myself long enough to convince Miguel to take me out.

I just can’t get over the fact that he kidnapped me. I know he meant to take Arianna, but he got me and could have let me go. We both know that. He knows that. He chooses not to.

Suddenly I’m angry again. Raphael needs me. I think about how scared and confused he must be that I’ve suddenly disappeared. I have protected him from the kind of life that my family lives. He won’t understand why I just didn’t come home. He might think that I’ve abandoned him.

All because of Miguel.

Now the Don of the Rossi family wants me, his hostage, to dress up and entertain him over dinner? He can get knotted. That’s not going to happen.Property © 2024 N0(v)elDrama.Org.

When they bring me the bag of clothes and toiletries after lunchtime, I pretend to be asleep so no one speaks to me.

Around five, though, the guard shakes me, and I can’t pretend to be asleep any longer.

“What?” I snap.

He points to the chair where a beautiful dress rests. “Don Rossi says not to be late for dinner.”

“I’m not going,” I say, glaring up at the guard. “Tell him I’m his hostage, not his entertainment. I won’t do a thing he tells me to.”

I turn my back to the guard and curl up.

“Don Rossi doesn’t like being crossed, ma’am. For your own safety, I would suggest you get up, get dressed, and go to dinner before the Don loses his patience.” The guard stands there waiting, so I snap.

“I said to tell him it’s not happening. I’m not his fucking toy to play with. You tell Miguel that I don’t have to abide by anything he wants just because he kidnapped me. Now fuck off.” I pull the sheet over my head and hear the guard retreat.

As soon as he shuts the door, I get up. I toss the dress and pumps into the trash can in the corner, and I hobble to the bathroom and shut the door, locking it behind me.