Married to the mafia boss Series

Anastasia

I don’t care that Angelo is holding me on an invisible leash, I just want to be outside. I want to feel like I’m not some prisoner.

As people pass us by while walking in the mall, they all stare at Angelo. Some whisper and discreetly point and others avoid him completely, pulling their children into nearby stores or walking on the opposite side.

Angelo’s penthouse is a replacement for the cold dungeon. Even though it is a place of luxury, it is a prison cell in disguise. At least in this moment right now I can pretend to be free, I can pretend to be normal and forget about my circumstance.

At least for just a moment, I can pretend.

Angelo lets me drag him into any store I want and although he told me he took me here specifically for clothes, I pull him into Barnes & Noble. He doesn’t protest when I grab a book or two or three… or seven.

I picked out a few of Agatha Christie mystery books-my favorite, accompanied by some science fiction and fantasy books and maybe a couple of romance books too. I try my hardest to ignore the smirk I can see on Angelo’s face from my peripheral view when choosing a cover with a mans beautifully sculpted muscular bare chest.

He takes the heavy pile from me and stands for a moment waiting to see if I’m going to pick up anything else before checking out. He used his credit card to pay for a little over a hundred dollars worth of books.

I oblige Angelo by heading into a few stores picking out essentials, pajamas, sweaters, jeans, and when we pass by Victoria Secret he signs to me, “You still need bras and underwear.”

Gritting my teeth we walk into the store. “No, you sit outside and wait.”

He looks unamused. “You are in no position to make demands of me. I told you, short leash.”

Leave it to him to ruin a good time of pretending. Once again I’m reminded of my lack of freedom.

“How about these?” He picks up a pair and throws it at me. It’s a black lace see-through pair of cheeky underwear.

“Pig,” I throw the pair back at his face.

My delicates always consisted of sports bras, beige comfort bras, and cotton underwear. I never needed a reason to wear flashy push up bras and sexy lace underwear. Still, the thought of having a cute pink bra with rhinestones seems fun. After picking up a pile of sensible bras I throw in a couple that I would have never thought to buy myself.

When Angelo takes my pile I notice he has a pile of his own formed. I try to ask him what he thinks he’s doing but he’s avoiding me on purpose.

The lady cashing us out says something to Angelo that results in him forming a shit-eating grin. She looks at me and giggles before handing us the pink and black striped bag and bidding us goodbye.

“What did she say?”Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

“That you must be so lucky to have a husband like me.”

I open my mouth momentarily speechless. “And what did you say back?!”

“I told her you sure are a lucky girl.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Would an asshole let you buy seven books?” He holds out my Barnes & Noble bag and I snatch it from him.

“It’ll give me something to do while you hold me against my will!” I bite back.

I notice his jaw ticks and his playful expression turn blank, almost as if I hit a nerve. I frown feeling slightly guilty for my comment.

Feeling guilty for telling the truth? I remind myself. Angelo and I sit on a bench inside the mall after he buys us both greasy fried pretzels that tasted delicious. I frown hating that my reminders turn a good time into a bad one. Angelo was funny and talking to him is comfortable. He understands my disability unlike my other friends. He doesn’t pity me nor does he make me feel left out. When Angelo talks to me-signs to me-he makes me feel like I’m the only person in the world.

I feel ridiculous even thinking it, but it’s true. No one has looked at me the way he does.

You must be so lucky to have a husband like him.

“Today is your day,” he signs. “What do you like to do?”

I give him a small smile, “I like going to the movies.”

He jerks his head back looking confused. “But your deaf.”

“Really?” I sign sarcastically. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Angelo allows me to take his phone to write directions down in his phone to show to his driver. I tell him not to look and that it’s a surprise.

He looks skeptical when we pull into a place he’s obviously never been. My mother used to take me here when I was a little girl. It’s my favorite place in Boston. I tried bringing Svetlana and Tatiana before but they hated it and complained the whole time. I never offered to go there with them again.

“What is this?” Angelo raises his eyebrow as he reads the sign on the building.

“Truth me?” I ask.

He follows me in and I point to the movie I’d like to see and hold up two fingers. I grab the tickets while Angelo walks over to buy popcorn.

This movie theater doesn’t play any new movies, they play classics and this one just so happens to be one of my favorites-Gone with the Wind.

We take our seats in the theater getting the best seats right in the middle, not too close and not too far. Angelo holds the popcorn as I reach over grabbing a handful. I’ve never had so much junk food in so little time due to my strict diet. I could get used to this.

It doesn’t take long for the movie to start. I’m pleasantly surprised to see we’re the only ones here. The movie begins and Angelo looks at me with furrowed eyebrows.

“Gone with the Wind in German? I don’t know German.”

“Have you ever seen this movie?” I ask him.”No,” he signs.

“Good,” I reach over and take out his hearing aids. “Enjoy.”

People tend to forget that deaf people can’t enjoy movies, not unless you go to some special theater that has subtitles. Normal people get annoyed by subtitles too easily but they are vital for people like me to be able to watch and enjoy.

The movie has English subtitles at the bottom and at first Angelo himself looks annoyed, since he has the luxury of putting in a device that allows him to hear the world better, he probably has never used subtitles.

I find myself sneaking glances at him throughout the movie, his eyes are locked on the screen following the story and words below. Somewhere toward the end of the movie where Scarlett experiences so much tragedy and death, Angelo’s hand seems to find mine.

And we sit silently in the movie theater holding hands.

And as I cry at the sad parts he squeezes my hand gently as if to say, I’m right here.

And even though he is my captor and he is my enemy, despite it all through the chaos and confusion, he is my comfort.