The Mafia King’s Doll

Tori

Glancing around the room, Aunt Gloria brought me to, I can’t keep from smiling.

“You have such a beautiful home,” I compliment her as I walk out onto the balcony.

The room is on the second floor, and it has a spectacular view of the Mediterranean Sea. I grin when I see a couple of sailboats bobbing on the blue water.

The bedroom is situated on the side of the house, but we still have an amazing view. The breeze plays with my curls as I glance down to the rock garden below. Seeing how high up I am, I feel a slither of fear and lightheadedness.

I turn around and walk back into the bedroom, but there’s no sign of Aunt Gloria.

I didn’t hear her leave.

The next moment, Uncle Maurizio comes into the room, and with a hostile expression, he tosses an envelope on the bed. “There’s five thousand euros. It’s more than you deserve.”

Huh?

His dark eyes lock with mine, and when I see the disgust on his face, my heart sinks to my stomach.

Oh, no!

He crosses his arms over his chest, then mutters, “I don’t know what you did to make Angelo marry you, but this farce ends today. It’s an embarrassment to the family that he married someone like you.”

Intense shock shudders through me because I didn’t expect this at all.

My lips part, but no words come out.

“Angelo should’ve married Valentina Toscano and not the likes of you.” His eyes sweep over me with a look of hatred. “Take the money and fuck off.”

The anger deepens on his face, and it makes me feel like I’m something Angelo found in the gutters.

The sudden verbal attack catches me totally off guard, and I don’t know what to say. My heart shrivels in my chest as fear and panic slowly spread through my body.

When I don’t respond, Maurizio growls, “Take the money, woman! Your luggage is in the car waiting out front. Leave Angelo and never contact him again, or I’ll make you disappear.”

The threat has my fear spiking dangerously high. Even though Maurizio is no longer the head of the Rizzo territory in New York, he’s still part of the Cosa Nostra. He’s still dangerous.

Over the past weeks, I’ve been lulled into a false sense of security. I finally felt safe and no longer on guard that people like Giorgio would hurt me.

The last thing I expected was Angelo’s family bribing me to leave him.

Sure, I braced for the awkwardness of meeting them, but not this.

“Ahhh…” My eyebrows pinch together, and I place a hand over my tight stomach. “I can’t leave Angelo.”

Angelo will hunt me down and kill me if I dare betray him. I mean, he killed one of his bartenders for stealing two thousand dollars! What Maurizio is asking of me is so much worse.

I’ve also fallen in love with my husband, and I don’t want to leave him. “The money is enough to buy a ticket back to America. Go, and if I find

out you contacted Angelo, I’ll make you wish you were never born,” he threatens.Content (C) Nôv/elDra/ma.Org.

“Angelo will never believe I left him,” I whisper, the shock making my voice hoarse.

“Angelo will believe what I tell him,” Maurizio snaps. “He’ll believe me over a woman he’s only known a few weeks.” He shakes his head. “I heard about the farce of a wedding the day after it happened and looked into your family. You’re a bunch of bottom-feeders and not worthy of the name Rizzo. Over my dead body will I allow you to give birth to a Rizzo heir.”

God, they faked being shocked by the news, and we fell for it. I thought they liked me.

It just shows how good they are at keeping up a deceiving act around Angelo. There’s no telling what they’ll make him believe.

Maurizio’s right. They’re his family, and I’m still getting to know him.

The intensity of the shock lessens enough for me to say, “Angelo will be very upset when he finds out you’re trying to coerce me into leaving him.”

Maurizio stalks closer to me, and I instinctively cringe backward. He shoves his finger in my face while a deadly rage ripples over his face.

“You’ve only been married three weeks,” he bites out, the rage darkening his tone.

I take another step backward and find myself on the balcony. The wind whips the fabric of my dress against my legs while my eyes are wide on the old man.

“Angelo will get over you in a heartbeat, and Valentina will be there to comfort him,” he continues to say. “Either you fucking leave, or I’ll bury your body in my backyard. When Angelo and Valentina get married here, I’ll make sure they say their vows on the spot where your corpse is being eaten by worms.”

Oh my God. This can’t be happening.

My heart hammers against my ribs, and my breaths grow shallow.

“Angelo will never believe I just left him without a word,” I whisper, tears threatening to overwhelm me.

“He’ll believe what I tell him!” Maurizio shouts in my face, and I flinch again.

I can’t…what?

I shake my head as the gravity of the situation bears down on my shoulders.

What do I do?

My eyes dart to the envelope holding the bribe money, then I spot my handbag.

I need to call Angelo!

My gaze flits back to Maurizio, and when I try to dart past him, he grabs hold of my waist and yanks me backward. I lose my footing and stagger into Maurizio. My side hits the balcony’s railing, and with zero control, I tip over the side.

Fear explodes in my chest, and I grab hold of Maurizio.

Everything happens so freaking fast I don’t realize what’s going on until it’s too late.

I’m unable to scream from the intense shock and stop breathing as we both go over the side of the balcony. My body reacts, and I manage to grab hold of the railing.

I feel Maurizio’s fingers grasping at my dress, then a second later, I hear a sickening thud below. Hanging on the side of the balcony, I make the mistake of glancing down.

Seeing Maurizio’s body bent at a weird angle over a boulder, his eyes frozen in death, makes a harrowing emotion darken the world around me.

Mother of God!

My breaths are nothing but shallow rasps, and I feel lightheaded from the trauma I’ve been subjected to.

In grave danger of falling to my death, I let out a desperate sob.

No.

NONONO.

My fingers tighten their hold on the railing, and the fear of falling gives me a strength I didn’t know I possessed to frantically pull myself back to safety.

I drop onto the floor of the balcony and gasp for air as the trauma and dire circumstances shudder through me.

Maurizio’s dead.

Angelo’s beloved uncle is dead, and it’s my fault.

‘Uncle Maurizio’s like a father to me.’

Recalling Angelo’s words, I push myself to my feet and hurry into the room. Frantic fear keeps me from thinking clearly.

It happened so fast that I can’t process it at all.

Desperation and dread have me grabbing the envelope and my handbag before I rush out of the room. My eyes dart around, and I expect the guards or Gloria to intercept me at any moment.

I fly down the stairs, my breaths mere pants while I keep glancing frantically around me. My heart pounds harder and faster as I run toward the front door.

I can’t believe what just happened. This isn’t real.

It’s just a nightmare.

No! Why? Why did this happen? God.

I’m inundated with panicked thoughts, and each one has me moving faster as I dart out of the house.

Once Gloria realizes Maurizio is dead, she’ll probably order my death on the spot.

The mafia never asks questions, they just kill. They won’t believe it was an accident.

The retired head of the Cosa Nostra is dead because of me. The guards will kill me.

God, Maurizio is dead!

A sob bursts from me as I hurry to the sedan parked out front.

Please, Father. Don’t let them find Maurizio’s body before I’m gone.

Help me!

Yanking the door open, I climb behind the steering wheel and start the engine. My eyes flit wildly around, and seeing the guards multiplies my fear.

GoGoGo!

I push the gas pedal to the floor, and with screeching tires, the vehicle darts forward. The guards all glance at me, and it makes me hold my breath as I race toward the gates.

Luckily, the gates start to open, and my lips move as I say one silent prayer after another.

Please. Please. Please.

Forgive me. I didn’t mean to kill him. Don’t forsake me in my darkest hour. Why? WhyWhyWhy?

When I glance in the rearview mirror, there’s no sign of Gloria, and I can only pray she doesn’t find Maurizio’s body before I’ve managed to put a safe distance between the villa and myself.

They’re going to think I killed Maurizio. The entire Cosa Nostra will want me dead.

Angelo will never forgive me. I’m going to hell.

I have no idea where to go as I turn onto a road, but I floor the gas pedal. My knuckles are white from my tight grip on the steering wheel, and I keep glancing in the rearview mirror, expecting the guards to come after me.

My thoughts are a jumbled mess, and the fear, shock, and panic have me spiraling into a dark pit of despair.

Angelo will never forgive me for killing his uncle. God, it happened so fast.

The traumatic incident replays in my mind, and a sob bursts from me as the shock of what just happened rolls over me in shuddering waves.

How do I even begin to explain the nightmare? Who will believe me?

Seeing a café on the corner of an intersection, I quickly pull over and ask for directions to the airport.

The waitress looks at me like I’m a crazy person, but luckily, she gives me the directions.

I pull away from the curb with screeching tires, and my paranoia and fear grow with every mile I put between the villa and myself.

My heart shrinks into a tiny ball when I realize the three weeks I shared with Angelo is all I’ll ever have. He’s an unforgiving man, and I’ve seen him kill someone with my own eyes. He killed that bartender for stealing two thousand dollars.

He will kill me.

But I can try to explain. I’ll tell him it was an accident.

He won’t believe you, especially if Gloria tells him some lie. God.

God.

Oh God.

More sobs shudder through me as my mind keeps racing.

What do I do?