Mafia Obsession

Scarlet

“Ma’am,” Sebastian says from the other side of my closed bedroom door. “Mrs. Marino would like to see you in the study if you aren’t otherwise occupied.”

I almost laugh, wondering if staring endlessly at my phone counts as otherwise occupied. I haven’t received any updates about Mom or Dad since my man’s last text about fifteen minutes ago. “Uh, sure,” I say. “Where is the study?”

“I can take you there.”

I stand, brushing my clothes down. Then I fix my hair into a quick ponytail and open the door. Sebastian leads me through the luxurious apartment. We take two corners, and then he gestures to the end of a narrow hallway. “Just down there, miss.”

“Thank you,” I tell him.

Walking into the study, Alessia sits beside a tall, wide window. Sunlight bathes her. Leo sits in a wheelchair beside her, half slumped over, looking like he’s not really here. He’s a tragic sight, and my heart aches for them all.Nôvel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.

“Ah, Angela.” Alessia rises from her chair with her hands clasped together. “I’d like to introduce you to the man of the house… Leonardo.”

“It’s nice to meet you, sir,” I say, going with the curtsy again.

As opposed to Alessia, who seems completely oblivious to the fact I was her waitress last night-she’s shown no sign of recognition-I’m sure I see a glint in her husband’s eyes. He doesn’t move or make a noise, but there’s something in his eyes and his lip. It twitches almost like a smile.

Alessia leans down, putting her ear close to her husband’s mouth. Then she leans up, smiling. “He says it’s lovely to meet you, too.”

I almost call her out for this. I didn’t hear any noise from him, but what would be the point in pretending her husband was speaking if he wasn’t capable? To keep up appearances? Why would she want to do that with me?

“We were wondering if you could sing for us,” Alessia says.

I take a step back instinctively, caught off guard. “Um…” When Alessia’s expression falters, and I see how badly she wants some brightness in her life, I quickly move forward. I force myself to smile. “Yes. I can. It’s why I’m here, after all.”

Alessia gives me a shrewd look. “Yes, and that’s the only reason you’re here, isn’t it, dear?”

I nod, then clasp my hands in front of me. More nerves are twisting through me than when I sang for my man. It takes me a few moments to get going. My voice falters. Alessia frowns. It’s the pity in her eyes that forces me to really start trying.

I sing a simple song about moving through a sea of fog, looking for my lifeline. The notes are long and low, and I hope the song evokes a certain type of lost sadness. At least, that’s what I was going for when I wrote it.

When I finish, I realize Alessia is staring at me with her mouth wide open. Then she turns to her husband, leans down, and brushes her hand across his cheek. “He’s crying,” she whispers. “Leo, my lion, you’re crying. Are you there, Leo? Did you like the song? Did you hear it?”

I don’t say anything, watching the exchange. It doesn’t make any sense. Why would she ask if he was there if she’d just spoken to him? She leaned down and put her ear to his mouth. Was that all for show? Why would she fake that? I don’t understand.

She seems to realize what she’s done. She stares at me like she hates me, but I think she hates the fact she just let something slip. She didn’t mean to.

“I think we’re done here,” Alessia says. “Thank you, Angela, and please remember whose home this is. Remember the respect we’re owed.”

I get the point. I didn’t see this, whatever it was. I shouldn’t tell her son. “Of course, Mrs. Marino,” I say.

She doesn’t correct me this time or say I should call her Alessia. When I turn away, I can feel her eyes on me. When I reach the door, she says, “You truly have a magical voice. An angel’s voice.”

I leave the room, wondering if I should tell her son. As I walk through the apartment, the situation niggles at me. If Leo had been speaking to her, she wouldn’t have reacted like that. That seems obvious to me, but-

My phone vibrates from my pocket, cutting through my thoughts. I quickly grab it.

I’m on my way home now, Scarlet. What happened? Did you find Mom? No, I haven’t found your mother yet. But you found Dad? I ask.

I’ll explain when I see you in person.

Stop being so damn mysterious! I type. If something has happened, I want to know about it. Has he gotten himself into trouble again? Does he owe even more money?

Please, just wait until I’m back.

I deserve to know. You’re scaring me.

Surely, it can’t be as bad as my imagination. Surely, the real demons can’t be as messed up as those in my head. When he calls me, though, I know it must be deadly serious, and when he tells me what he’s found, my world crashes down. Not because of what happened to Dad-I’m a terrible daughter-but because of what it could mean for Mom.

Elio

I wrap my arms tighter around Scarlet, smoothing my hand through her hair, wondering if I’m doing anything to comfort her. When Luca and I got our hands on the men and unwrapped the tarpaulin, we found her dad. They’d stabbed him to death over a poker argument. They were going to get rid of his body.

Ever since I got back, my woman hasn’t stopped crying. The sound, the feel of her against me, the pain… It’s all almost too much to handle. She feels like she’s going to dissolve into pure heartache. Before, I thought that nothing could stop the savage in me. Now, I don’t care about the physical side. I don’t care about mauling her. I just want to stop her pain.

“What about M-Mom?” she asks.

“Luca is scouring the neighborhood with several of our men,” I tell her. “I’ve given up on trying to keep this quiet. The whole Family is on the case. They’re all over the city. We’re going to find her.”

“What if the men who hurt Dad find out?”

“We can’t delay any longer,” he tells me. “Anyway, once these bastards hear the Marino Family wants her back, there’s a good chance they’ll simply deliver her to us.”

My woman leans back, looking up at me with red eyes. “Dad never loved me,” she whispers. “He never wanted kids. He ruined my and Mom’s life, honestly. He got her addicted to those pills because it was easier than dealing with her, but he didn’t deserve this.”

She breaks down again, pushing her face against my chest. I hold her tightly, kissing the top of her head, knowing I’m probably less than useless right now. A long time passes like this.

Finally, she crawls up on the bed and lies down. Without a word, I join her. I pull her into my arms and hope she can feel the support burning through me. I hope it makes a difference.

After a while, it’s strange. It’s like I can feel her wanting to say something. Maybe it’s the unspoken connection we have. The connection that was there the first moment I saw her. Or maybe it’s the fact she keeps shifting around.

“What’s going to happen with his…” She swallows audibly. “His body?”

Somehow, I know this isn’t what she was going to say. Maybe I’m placing way too much emphasis on my ability to read her, but I don’t think so.

“It’s in a safe location,” I tell her. “I can help you and your mother with the funeral.”

“I don’t want to think about any of this until Mom is back and safe.” “I’m going to find her,” I say. “I swear.”

“What about the men? The ones who… you know?” “They’re gone,” I tell her gruffly.

She swallows. “Gone?”

“We searched their place. You don’t want to know the filth we found on their computers. We had no choice but to end the pricks.”

She kisses my chest, a shiver moving through her. “You did the right thing, and it’s true. I don’t want to know what you found. I think my imagination can fill it in.”

We lie together without talking for a long while. Then she squeezes against my sides, looking up at me curiously.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” She averts her gaze. “Huh? Like what?”

Leaning close, I softly kiss her cheek, smoothing some of her tears away. “Like there’s something you want to tell me.”

“It’s not my place,” she murmurs. “So there is something…”

She doesn’t reply, and I don’t try to force her. She’s been through too much for me to press her about anything. After a few minutes of holding each other, she whispers, “I don’t want to stir any trouble in your family. I know how much is at stake with your Family.”

“My family, or the Family?” “Both,” she says quietly.

“Explain,” I tell her.

She speaks in a whisper, telling me about the song in the study-my dad tearing up, Mom seeming shocked, and asking if he had heard the singing.

“But if she’s been speaking to him…”

“Why would that be a shock?” I finish, nodding. “You were right to tell me this.”

“Do you think your mom…”

“Do I think she’s pretending my dad is speaking to her?”

Scarlet has her face pressed against me. When she nods, I feel it instead of seeing it. My chest is warm from where her tears have pushed through my shirt. “I can imagine other mafia queens doing that. They take advantage of their husband’s condition to get their own power, but not Mom. They were too in love, together long before Dad was the don, and she’s never cared about the business. I don’t understand it.”

“Maybe somebody else is behind it,” Scarlet says.

I sit up, my heart suddenly beating quicker, harder, with more urgency. “Go on.”

She looks up at me, beautiful even with her cheeks puffy and red from crying and messy hair from where I was rubbing it. If anything, she looks more beautiful like this. It makes her look more genuine. Real.

“What if somebody is threatening her? Or blackmailing her?”

I shake my head. “She would come to us,” I say. “I know she would. She knows that Luca and I would never let that stand.”

“Maybe it’s something she can’t talk to you about?” Scarlet says. “Remember, I don’t know what I’m talking about. I could’ve misread that whole situation. Maybe it’s just because he shed a tear.”

“Hmm, maybe,” I mutter. “What now?” Scarlet asks.

“We find your mom. Save her. Reunite you with her.” “But I mean… now. Right now. What should we do?”

“Whatever you want,” I say. “You’ve been through a lot. If you want to be alone, that’s okay. If you want me to stay here, that’s okay, too.”

“What if I want to forget?” she murmurs, sliding her hand down my chest.

I catch her wrist, the savage awaking in me. “You’ve been through a lot,” I say. “You don’t have to rush into anything.”

She shifts against me, tempting me with her body. Her heat radiates into me with an urgency that has me almost howling. Her head’s not in the right place. I’ve got to remember that. She’s not thinking clearly, but when she shivers against me as if her lust is bursting out of her, I almost lose it.

“Don’t you want to forget, too?” she whispers.

There’s a kind of desperation in her voice. She’s hungry to let everything go. If we disappear into steaminess, she doesn’t have to think. I get that. “If

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