THE MAFIA’S MISTAKEN BRIDE

Jasmine’s POV

For seconds, we stare at each other.

His expression is impassive and mine is filled with shock. The initial fear I was feeling about him catching me in that art room had retreated. It has been replaced with hope and a tiny bit of assurance that all of this will become history soon.

His eyes become dark all of a sudden when I repeat my question and his jaw tightens before he takes his eyes off me to gulp down the whole content of the wine in his glass cup.

I won’t let this go.

I heard right. He said he found her. That must be Andre. Why is he hiding that from me? If he has found her, then I should be the first to know and then I will know when to go back to Chicago.

Talking about Chicago, a cold chill runs down my spine when the sudden remembrance of Vicenzo hits me like a massive wind.

Vicenzo is still out there.

Chicago is no longer safe now that Xavier is involved and he knows we are married. I am not just a woman who rejected him but also the woman of his enemy.

He won’t spare me.

But even with that, I still don’t want this life. This isn’t my life. This is practically her life I am living. I want my life back.

“Xavier, are you going to answer…”

“Shut the f*** up, woman!” he barks at me thunderously, making me jerk back in fright as his eyes become red in anger.

My mouth hangs open, wondering what exactly he is mad about. Is it about my question or about what happened a few minutes ago in his art room?

He shoots to his feet before I can get myself together and before I know it, he disappears.

A sob almost escapes my lips.

I stand in the middle of the bar, my head spinning with numerous questions. I am not sleepy so I can’t go to bed. I will keep tossing till dawn.

When I lift my head up, I see the glass has been filled with wine again. Perhaps he was able to gulp everything down again when I stopped him with my question.

What exactly is he mad about? Did he have a bad day at work?

Without thinking, I step forward and find myself settling on the stool he was sitting minutes ago. I grab the glass cup and down everything.

It is sweet.

It isn’t burning my throat like I think it will.

I don’t drink alcohol or expensive wines like this but I think I need this tonight. I don’t even care whether this is alcoholic or not.

I need something to take my mind off everything. My life is in disarray yet nobody seems to care because they don’t believe I am not who they think I am.Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

I hate myself right now.

I wish I had the power to fight back at Xavier. I wish I had enough power to fight Vicenzo too.

Why do I have to keep living such a miserable life? Why do I have to keep cowering in fear every minute of my life?

I gulp down the second glass of the wine and pour in more.

Just before I can finish the third glass, an idea hits me.

I don’t know if it’s my real self or it is the result of the wine but I find myself rushing towards the staircase and towards the bedroom.

Whenever a surge of confidence as this descends on me, I love to take immediate action or I will not be able to summon up the courage to do anything.

I throw the door open the moment I am within reach and just like I am hoping, Xavier is inside, taking off his shirt, probably to take a shower.

Without hesitation, I blurt out. “I need a phone.”

Silence falls.

He does not turn back to face me. The only sound is the erratic beating of my heart and the fast breathing coming from my mouth.

“Xavier, I said I need a phone!”

Silence again.

He peels off his trousers, leaving him in a short as he drapes a towel around his waist. Despite my anger towards his silence, my eyes hover around his waist, remembering how hot he looks when he is shirtless and after taking a shower with water dripping down his chest.

Instinctively, I slap myself mentally as I jerk back to life only to see him a step away, the hard look still on his face.

“What for?” he asks me, making me scrunch my face in confusion.

“What for? What else will I need a phone for? I am not a prisoner or am I?” I throw back at him. Surprisingly, I am not scared at the moment.

I am not tipsy too, or am I?

For me to get to the root of this, I need a phone. I can’t find Andre if I don’t have a phone. I lost my phone that night in Chicago and he isn’t saying anything about getting me another one.

I am his wife after all and I have some rights.

He nods, then says nothing.

“Are you getting me one or not?” It sounds like a challenge and I really do not know what has come over me. He raises a brow, looking upset again.

“What if I don’t?” he asks me, daring me to say what exactly I have in mind if he doesn’t get me a phone.

“I’m going to go out first thing tomorrow morning and find myself a job. That way, I can get a phone for myself and I don’t need…”

His hold on my neck interrupts me from going further. Roughly, he pushes me to the wall and pins me there, his gaze intense and filled with rage.

“Don’t you dare!” he growls out loudly and this does the trick.

It feels like a veil has been lifted off my face as I become myself again with fear crawling at my belly.

I whimper and tremble, wanting to drop my head low in embarrassment. Threats won’t work on him. I am stupid.

Getting him riled up won’t do anything either.

I am tempted to tell him I am sorry as he releases his hold on me but is still pinning me to the wall. Even though I have more to say, I only gulp at his gaze piercing deep into my soul.

He points his index finger at me. “You are my wife. Nothing changes that. You listen to me. You have no right to tell me what to do either. I do what I want and you have to get used to that. It is my decision to believe whether that lame story you have been feeding me with right from the very first day is believable or not. If I find any bit of it believable, then another replica of you should be produced for it to be fully accepted. Understand?”

I don’t.

I let the words sink in slowly.

What he is trying to say is that he doesn’t believe my story of knowing Vicenzo and if Andre isn’t found, I am going nowhere, right?

I nod meekly like a dove as tears spring to my eyes.

Finally, he lets go of me, his eyes now soft like they weren’t hard two seconds ago.

“You will get a new phone first thing tomorrow morning. If there is anything else you need, let me know. Politely”, he says through clenched teeth, stressing on the word politely.

I guess this is to make me understand that I can get whatever material things I want as long as I ask him in a polite manner, not by threatening him.

I nod again. “Thank you.”

He seems taken aback by my show of appreciation. I’m surprised too but it’s my nature. I never knew he was going to give in after the drama. I thought I would have to live a lonely life here till God knows when.

But I am grateful that he is depriving me of this. This is the only way I can find Andre myself.

The moment he steps away from me, I lean forward so I can go to the bed when I bump into him.

A sudden dizziness sweeps through me and I can’t even say sorry when he turns back. Instead, the dizziness begins to envelop me slowly till I find myself swaying and falling right into his arms.

The devil’s arm.