Married to the mafia boss Series

# 3—Chapter 30



Anastasia

All the crying gave me a terrible headache. My sinuses are killing me and my eyes are red and dry. I used all my energy crying which sent me into exhaustion.

I wake up from my nap feeling worse. Reality once again hitting me and upsetting myself. I’m shivering without any clothes on. My body still achingly aware of how he felt inside of me. My skin is tingling with how vividly I remember his lips on my neck, lips, and other sensitive areas.

When I turn over the first thing I notice is a bag at the door. My head starts to spin and throb when I sit up, but I make my way over. I open the bag to see clothes. Angelo must’ve left them for me. I don’t even have to wonder how he got in-of course he has access to every room in his penthouse.

As the hours pass slowly my stomach rumbles. I don’t feel like eating. I feel nauseous with the thought that in just a few hours I will be back under my father’s strict protection. I’m not ready to face him. I’m not ready to leave this place which should be considered a prison but has felt like freedom.

The room is dark, I haven’t bothered to turn on the lights. The only light in the room comes from the window and the analog digital clock which reads 1:24 a. m.

Soon he will come to get me. Soon we will be in a car and heading toward the meeting spot. Soon my father will tell me he’s never letting me out of his sight again. Soon I will no longer be free.

As time gets even closer I start to become anxious. I pace the room with too many thoughts and emotions on my mind. I can’t take the waiting any longer. I can’t take the isolation. Bursting out of the room I rush down the hall and barge open the door to the master bedroom. Angelo is sitting on the bed, face in his hands. His shoulders slumped, he looks defeated. I’ve always thought of him as a tall fearless Mafia leader. Strong as well ruthless. I’ve seen his expression when conducting business. I’ve seen him assert his authority over the two idiots back when I was in that dungeon.

The dungeon, it seems like so long ago now.

Angelo Ricci can insert fear into even the toughest men. With one look, you could piss your pants and with a shift movement he could either kill you himself or order someone else to do so. He is the King of South Side Boston… and now the East. His men will revel in what he accomplished in kidnapping me. They’ll praise him.

Yet, the man sitting before me doesn’t look like the victorious Mafia Don. He looks broken, lost, and meek. I came here to yell and curse him out, but seeing him like this-just as torn apart as I have been-I can’t do it. I can’t kick him while he’s down even though every bone in my body feels betrayed by him and wants to get as much as my anger and bitterness out on him.

I take a step closer and he picks up his head to look at me. He looks tired, dark circles framing his eyes. The closer I get, the more I can smell alcohol on him.

Angelo stands towering over me. I want to wrap my arms around him and kiss him but I don’t. “If things we were both born to a different life, do you think we could’ve had a chance?”

He flinches as if the words have words hurt me. He’s silent for a heartbeat until he raises his hand to make one simple, “Yes.”

I can’t hold back the tears in my eyes. The flow my cheeks uncontrollably. “Do you think it’s possible to change our destiny?”

“No.”

I close my eyes and shake my head. “We should get going,” I turn away from him and walk out.

Downstairs I’m surprised to see Angelo’s brother in law, Antonio. He says something to me that I don’t understand. I can’t read his lips. Our language barrier too great.

Even though he can’t understand me I sign anyways, “Let’s get this over with.”The car ride is silent. Antonio sits up front with the driver while Angelo and I take up the back seat. I can feel his energy beside me, calling to me like a gravitational pull. It’s hard to fight the urge to ignore him, to try and hate him. It’s hard after being with him everyday for the past month. The memories we created, the laughs we’ve shared. He became my best friend and my lover. I should have expected a goodbye, I just hoped it would never come to this.

I’ve disappointed myself with false hope. I’ve conjured up a future fantasy that seemed all too perfect, it was bound to shatter.

I thought I had found some sort of purpose after ballet. Now it feels as if nothing is left for me. Whatever my dad is going to do, I already know it’s not what I’m going to want.

I wish the car ride was longer it seems like we arrived at an abandoned warehouse in no time. As Antonio opens the car door there is a plot second where Angelo places his hand on top of mine. I don’t want to comfort. I pull my hand away and get out of the car.NôvelDrama.Org owns this text.

To play the part, Angelo walks in with me at his side, his hand tight around my bicep. A few of his men are already there for protection in case something goes wrong. I scan the dark building for any sign of my father or his men.

Antonio and Angelo are talking, they both look angry, I almost hope in the moment that my father didn’t show. But that’s not the case. Ascending from a dark shadow, my father comes into view. I almost forgot how big he is. Six foot four, nearly three hundred pounds of muscle. My father’s cruel face fashioned by a large scar down his icy blue eyes.

He says something to Angelo and Angelo replies. It’s times like these I wish I could hear. Could Angelo be fighting for me? Changing his mind?

He pushes me toward my father. I look at him over my shoulder, his cold expression makes me feel hurt. Makes me feel like all the warm moments we shared were all a secret plot to break me-to destroy me.

My father’s two closest men grab me quickly as if they fear the Mafia might hurt me. My father doesn’t say anything to me, he doesn’t follow his men when they drag me out of the warehouse to wait in the car. I wonder what’s going on in there. Probably more talk about father giving up the East Side. I gaze out the window, it’s started to snow. White flecks descend from the sky making it look like we’re in a snow globe.

We were supposed to decorate his penthouse for Christmas.

I shake the thought from my head. I can’t think of Angelo any longer. If I do I will never be able to recover. We are done and I will never see him again.

Maybe an hour later my father enters the car, his two trusted soldiers joining us. He sits in the back with me and to my surprise pulls me into a hug.

“Are you hurt?” He signs slowly.

For his sake I sign slowly back using only simple gestures. “I’m fine.”

“I was worried about you. What did he do?”

“I said I’m fine.”

“I’m never going to let you out of my sight. I’ve arranged for you to come live with me, I’ve closed off a section for you and your fiancé.”

“My fiancé?” I jerk my head back.

“I need someone who can protect you and keep an eyes on you at all times when I’m not able to. I asked Maxim to marry you.”

Maxim is my father’s right hand man. His second. He’s been a loyal friend and commander for years and by years I mean when he became my father’s second at age twenty-four I was only thirteen.

“You can’t do this to me!”

“I can and I will! You cost me the East Side of my territory. My men are angry and I will not have you taken and used against me again, am I clear?” He signs with harsh movement.

I don’t say anything back. I cross my arms and turn to look out the window. I refuse to cry, but I mourn.

I mourn my freedom.

I mourn my future.

And I mourn a life of happiness that could’ve been shared by the same man who gave me back to the one who is taking away all my options.

I am no longer free to do what I please with my life. I will become a Bratva wife and will have to obey Maxim and provide him with heirs-sons who will take over for my father one day.


Tip: You can use left, right, A and D keyboard keys to browse between chapters.