Owned by the mafia boss

LIANA

“Hey. Can I crash here for a few days?”

Carmela’s pretty face registered shock. The strap dug into my muscle, and the bag hit the ground after I staggered into the house.

Michael was out on a business trip, which was why I’d headed straight for their place. I didn’t want to field a million questions about my relationship with Vinn to my overprotective brother.

Carmela gave me a searching look. “Does Michael know you’re here?”

“Let’s not tell him. You know how he gets.”

Carmela bit her pink lip. “I won’t mention it until he’s back.”

I shuffled defeatedly in Michael’s mansion dominated by steel-blues and earthy browns. It was the opposite of Vinn’s stark white and black apartment. As I stepped into Michael’s bright kitchen, longing wrenched at my gut.

They were a perfect family.

Carmela fed Baby Luke in a high chair, mopping the applesauce that rolled down his chin. Mariette and Matteo ate their waffles. The children screamed a greeting before I lugged the bag to a guestroom.

When I returned, Carmela busied herself in the kitchen, grabbing plates as I limped to the table.

“Eggs?”

My stomach turned. “No thanks.”

I had no appetite.

My guts clenched when I imagined Vinn at home, alone.

I wished I hated him.

I soul-searched as I sat there, digesting his terrible crime. I’d always known he was capable of murder. Michael had hinted at it plenty of times, but I hadn’t expected him to kill a man who’d wronged me. Though a small part of me agreed with Vinn.

Queenie was better off.

A second later, I loathed myself.

Vinn tried to do good, in his own twisted way. Wasn’t that better than the monstrous version I’d led myself to believe?

Vinn’s motivations were the same as mine. Family first.

He just took that to extreme lengths.

You’re making excuses.All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

Doubt plagued my conscience. I loved Vinn, but he scared me. He’d already compromised my soul, and now he’d added murder to the list.

Regret hit me hard after another day of being stuck in Michael’s home, awaiting my brother’s return, gently refusing Carmela’s attempts to talk. I helped her fold laundry in the living room while the kids watched a movie. My fingers smoothed the Boston Bruins onesie I’d bought for Luke. A lump lodged in my throat.

It became a surge of nausea.

Carmela grasped my wrist. “Are you okay, sweetie?”

I shook my head and ran.

I dove into the bathroom, slapped the seat against the bowl, and vomited. I huddled the toilet all afternoon, purging. It was relentless, and the awful feeling festered in my stomach.

Carmela wetted a rag and pressed it to my forehead. “Maybe we should call your OB/GYN.”

Alarm zipped down my spine.

I forgot about the stupid fake pregnancy.

“No doctors.” I wiped and rinsed my mouth, never so tired in my life. “It’s probably nerves.”

A distant door opened and slammed.

Michael’s hearty voice echoed through the house. A pitter-patter of feet stampeded toward the foyer. My heart swam in a murky swamp of regret and longing as Michael greeted his wife with a purr.

I didn’t want to be here.

I’d hoped Vinn would swing by and demand I return to him, that he’d sense my distress over the distance, drag me into his arms, tell me everything would be fine.

That he loved me.

God, I needed him to love me, but it was hopeless.

He wouldn’t or couldn’t remember what he’d meant to me, and waiting for him to figure it out wasted my time.

A small body hit my back. Two little hands clutched my middle. I turned around, at Matteo’s sweet face beaming at me, and burst into tears. I hugged my nephew and sobbed, the hug triggering a deep agony. I might find someone else to love me, but I’d never love another man as much as him.

“Don’t cry, Zia.” Matteo patted my hair. “It’s okay.”

“Honey, go play with your sister.”

My insides twisted as Michael appeared, peeling his son away. He shooed him away. Michael returned in a flash of Derby shoes and a suit. He’d planted himself in front of me, his brows knitted.

“What’s going on? Carmela says you’ve been here for three days.”

I shook my head, sobbing. “Nothing.”

“I have the right to know what that asshole did to you.”

If I told him about James, he’d probably call me insane for being upset.

“Before him, you were moving on. Dating other guys. Finding yourself.” He sighed heavily, slapping his thighs. “Now you’re miserable. Pregnant. He’s not even taking care of you.”

“He doesn’t love me,” I choked as I finally admitted it. “I thought it wouldn’t matter. I hoped he’d change.”

“Didn’t I warn you so many times?” A note of desperation tore his voice. “Why didn’t you let me set you up with another guy?”

“Because I don’t want someone else! I love him!”

Michael stooped to one knee. He dragged me into a fierce hug that melted every last ice wall as I sagged into my brother’s arms.

“You don’t have to be with him, Li.”

Vinn didn’t love me.

Vinn kept secrets from me.

Vinn gave me everything but his heart.

Wild grief consumed me, and I couldn’t stop crying. I clung to Michael’s shoulder as he pulled me past his shocked children.

“He has a responsibility to you,” he began, his tone dropping a thousand degrees. “You’re sick, and he’s leaving you here. I’ll kill him. I’ve had it!”

Michael shot upright and ripped off his jacket. My heart slammed into my chest as he grabbed his keys and headed for the door.

Carmela watched him, brows knitted. “You just got here.”

“I’m going over there and giving him a piece of my mind.”

“Michael.” Carmela followed him, her angry tones blasting through the mansion. “Stop getting involved.”

“Sweetheart, she’s my sister. He knocked her up and threw her away.” Michael shouted down his wife. “I love you, but stay out of this!”

Carmela staggered down the steps, yelling after him. “Don’t do anything stupid!”

I ran outside as he climbed into his car.

“Fucking men.” Carmela sighed hard. “I love your brother, but Jesus. He has a temper.”

She didn’t understand the danger.

I’ll kill him.

Michael wasn’t kidding.