Owned by the mafia boss

CARMELA

I love you.

Every time the warmth from those words washed over me, my throat closed. I froze. My body seized with panic. Michael went ahead with life as though nothing had changed, but for me everything was different.

I love you.

This was my worst nightmare.

Nick’s love had almost destroyed me. What would Michael’s do?

Somehow, I’d forgotten that Michael’s wrought-iron fencing wasn’t a white-picket utopia. It had felt like a home. I’d started to appreciate his leather chairs and steel-gray sofas. The walls weren’t so lifeless after I’d plastered the kids’ paintings everywhere. My colorful throws had brightened the place, and once I’d switched out the pieces I’d hated with softer, more feminine furniture, I’d become comfortable.

I didn’t see him much for the next few days. Alessio’s return had consequences. There were city hall officials to court, gangsters to control, and an unruly public to soothe. Alessio’s PR machine needed time to work.

I spent hours hanging out with my parents, who’d returned from Italy. Having everybody home was nice, but the undercurrent of tension kept me from relaxing. I’d told Dad and Alessio about Crash’s return to my life. They were upset, especially my father. Dad broke down in tears. Alessio slammed his fist into the wall, shattering a picture frame.

I felt nothing but a vague annoyance. It was hard enough processing what’d happened without having to deal with other people’s feelings, so I wandered the house until I heard them arguing with escalating voices.

Alessio stood with his back against the bookshelf, his black eyes pinched shut. “I didn’t think Vinn would go after my family. I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

Dad shook his graying head. “You fucked up, kid.”

“I know.” Alessio sank into a chair, rubbing his face. “Mia and I wanted out.”

“That’s a pipe dream. You don’t have a father-figure anymore because he got locked up, so I’ll give you advice. Get your shit together. You have a family.”

“I was trying to make her happy-”

“My daughter’s a young girl. But you? You knew better, you fucking moron.”

I gaped at Dad.

Alessio glowered. “You’re right.”

There was no resentment behind his words, only resignation.

Dad made a derisive sound and stomped from the room. The walls trembled from a distant door slamming. Alessio stared at the floor, which left me in the awkward position of comforting my ex.

We had hated each other, but he’d come a long way from the angry gangster who used to be my fiancé. His love and devotion to my sister had changed my perception.NôvelDrama.Org owns this text.

“It’ll be okay.” I squeezed his shoulder. “Mia will move on. She’s not an idiot. She knows you can’t just quit.”

“She’s a dreamer,” he said, the roughness tamed from his voice. “Telling someone to give up on happily-ever-after is tough. There’ll always be a crisis.”

“She doesn’t have to abandon all hope. Once she settles in, she’ll realize that raising a child surrounded by family is better than doing it alone in Florida.”

“Yeah, if it weren’t for the constant violence.” He shook his head, as though dislodging the memories. “Never mind. I’m back. If you could do me a favor and visit Mia I’d-shit.”

“What?”

Alessio stalked to the window, glowering at the Audi rolling to the curb. “Michael.”

A ripple of anger ran through me. “He shouldn’t be here.”

“You expected him to listen?”

“See you later.”

Alessio grunted as he watched the street.

I trudged out of the house, not bothering to look for my dad. He was probably drinking heavily, and Mom was busy in the kitchen, cooking a feast for people who seemed unlikely to coexist.

Michael strolled the driveway, his hooded gaze softening when it landed on me. He balled me against his cashmere chest. Then he spotted Alessio, and he dug into my shoulders. He cupped my face and kissed me. It was a hard and possessive, the bruising pressure filling me with heat. His hand sailed down my spine until it rode my ass.

He acted so much like Nick.

It scared me.

“You’re supposed to stay away from my parents.'”

“I can’t get enough of you.” Michael looped his grip around my waist as we headed toward his car. He kept glancing at Alessio, and then he flipped him off.

“Michael, stop.”

“I’m kidding.” Michael’s smile faltered as he opened the passenger’s side door. “I can’t help but feel a little jealous. The man was engaged to you.”

“He didn’t care about me.”

Michael made a doubtful sound.

“We were the worst couple. We hated each other.” I settled into the leather cushion, shuddering at the idea of having Alessio for a husband. “He’s okay, but I wouldn’t want to live with him.”

Michael sank into the driver’s seat, fingering the key fob. “It’s none of my business, but-”

“No, I didn’t sleep with him.”

“That wasn’t what I was asking. What was your reaction when he married your sister?”

“Worry. I thought he was abusive.” The irony of that never ceased to dig into my ribs. “I never wanted him. He’s not my cup of tea.”

“What is?”

The romcoms I’d binged led me to believe my dream guy was someone kind, funny, and romantic. What had I gone for? Psychotic. Damaged. Obsessive.

Michael started the car, smiling. He squeezed my thigh as we drove from the curb. “Well, you’re my type.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t. I would tell you more often if you didn’t scowl at me, but you’re a beautiful woman. Alessio has eyes. He must’ve regretted letting you go.”

“Michael, he didn’t like me. Once he found me with Nick, he took off-” I stopped talking, but the damage was done.

“What?” Michael tapped the brakes and whipped his head around. “He found you?”

Oh shit.

“What do you mean, he found you?”

“Nothing.” I waved my hand, my heart hammering. “Forget about it.”

Michael pulled over on a suburban street, giving me his undivided attention. “I want to hear this.”

“I’d rather not talk about it”

“You will.” His words throbbed with restrained anger. “Right now.”

The engine quieted as Michael turned the keys. I worried my lip as his stare bored into my skin.

“Today, Carmela.”

“Fine. Alessio found me with Nick, about a month after I ran away.”

He gaped at me. “You’re kidding?”

“No. I begged him to leave, so he did.”

“He found you at a clubhouse. With Crash. You can’t be serious.”

“I told him to go, Michael.”

“I don’t give a fuck. He left you there. Alone.” Michael’s voice almost disappeared. “This makes me sick.”

“Why?”

“He should’ve realized what’d happen to you. He knew better.” Michael’s tone soured. “The son of a bitch went after your sister. That motherfucker!”

“Michael, stop. I’ll never tell you anything if this is how you’ll react.”

“Sorry.”

Michael dialed back the aggression and squeezed my hand. He said little during the ride. Once we got home, he flung the keys onto the counter.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” he deadpanned, but his hands balled into fists. “I’m fine.”

Okay.

I strolled into our bedroom, and Michael’s soft footsteps followed. He held a box. “I bought a test since you mentioned you felt under the weather.”

“That was just one day.” My throat tightened. “You want me to take this?”

“You don’t have to, but aren’t you curious?”

Hell yes.

I ripped it open and slipped into the bathroom. Michael caught the door before it shut. He lingered there, a sliver of a man. His expression was pensive as I peed on the stick.

“Well, what’s it say?”

“I don’t know yet.” Electricity jolted my skin as I flushed the toilet and dropped it beside the sink. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Me neither.” Michael shrugged. “Both kids were…happy accidents.”

“Didn’t learn the first time?”

“I like being a dad. I was never against having more.” Michael sat on the tub, flashing me a wicked smile. “And I’m still not.”

“What if it says yes?”

The possibility was real, and now fear mingled with the excitement. There’d be no escaping Michael once I was pregnant. He’d be all over me, more than he was already.

Michael leaned forward. “We make an appointment with the doctor, find out how far along you are, and start arguing about baby names.”

“I’m angry with you, Michael. Don’t forget that. You’re so lucky that my parents are safe and healthy. If anything had happened, I would’ve divorced your ass.”

“Good luck finding an attorney to take your case,” he quipped, his gaze sliding to the test. “What’s it say?”

My stomach sank as I read it. Disappointment welled inside me, the bitterness clawing at my throat.

One line.

Not pregnant.