Marrying Her Mafioso

by Terri Anne Browning

  Which I didn’t have. My passport and everything else I might have used were with Papa.

  Groaning, I scrolled through three other pages, but it wasn’t like something magically appeared. Getting a job was going to be difficult. Feeling defeated, I left the library and started the walk back to Anya’s apartment. Maybe Anya could help me get my identification back. I disliked the thought of asking her for even more help than she was already so graciously offering, but if I wanted to start over, I needed my passport.

  The sun was setting when I stopped at a pretzel vendor. The money I stole from Dante’s wallet was disappearing fast, but I hadn’t eaten much over the last few days. My appetite was nearly nonexistent, but I took the doughy goodness into the park across the street. It was unseasonably warm, and the thin jacket I had on was all I needed to fight the chill in the air.

  Finding a free bench, I sat and pinched off small bites of my unsalted pretzel, alternating between feeding myself and the birds who hadn’t flown south for the winter and were brave enough to land on the other end of the bench. One little bird hopped closer, and I gave it a larger bite than the others. As soon as it was in her beak, she flew off, but she came straight back almost immediately.

  Finding myself laughing for the first time in days, I gave her a slightly bigger piece than I just had and watched as she flew back up into a tree. The sound of her babies chirping excitedly greeted my ears over the distant sounds of the city around me, and I had a sudden feeling of peace. My heart was broken, but that little bird was showing me that life went on. The wind hadn’t stopped blowing, the flowers were still growing, and everyone else in the world was continuing their lives like normal. I was the only one who was stuck.

  When the same bird returned for the third time, I gave her the last piece of my pretzel. “Good luck, little mother,” I told her with a sad smile.

  Dusting off my hands, I stood and walked through the park. The temperature was beginning to drop now that the sun was fading into twilight. I hurried back to Anya’s apartment and took a shower. By the time I was in the sleep shorts and old T-shirt I’d been using as pajamas the last few days, Anya was unlocking the front door.

  “I brought pizza,” she called out.

  “Smells good,” I murmured as we sat at the kitchen table. I pulled out a slice and picked off the cheese. After scraping the sauce off with a butter knife, I ate it slowly.

  “You’re weird,” Anya observed, devouring her own slice like she hadn’t eaten in days.

  “I have a thing about marinara sauces,” I confided with a grimace.

  “Ah. Yeah, I have the same thing about duck sauce.” She popped the last bite into her mouth and reached for another slice. “How was your day?”

  “Unproductive,” I told her honestly.

  “That tends to happen when you’re lying around becoming one with the couch.” She grinned.

  I pressed my lips together, not about to tell her what I’d actually done during the time she was at work. Instead, I forced myself to bring up the one thing that could actually get the ball rolling on my new life. “Could you maybe help me with something?”

  “If I can.”

  “Right. Could you get my passport from my father?” She narrowed her eyes, and I quickly went on. “I was thinking you could ask Victoria to grab it for you or something.”

  Chewing her latest bite of pizza, she stared at me thoughtfully for a long moment. “I’ll try,” she finally gave in. “I can’t make any promises though, myshka.”

  My hands twisted together in nervousness. “I would sincerely appreciate you trying, Anya. It’s going to be hard to move on without some form of identification to get a job.”

  “Give me a few days to see what I can do.” She finished her last bite and stood. “I need a shower, and then I have to go out again. Cristiano said he needs to see me about something.”

  While she showered, I cleaned up the kitchen and then sat down on the couch with the remote. I never was much of a television watcher, preferring books and music to the drivel most sitcoms and reality shows seemed to be. But the last few days, Anya had gotten me addicted to a few of her criminal thriller shows. The day before, we binged Criminal Minds, and I was in search of something just as consuming.

  I settled on what was a new-to-me episode of NCIS, because they were all new to me, and settled in for the mini-marathon that was on. I barely heard Anya as she called a goodnight and left quietly.

  Two episodes in, and I realized NCIS was nowhere near as entertaining for me as Criminal Minds had been. Deciding to go to bed early, I turned off the television and went to my room.

  Dropping down onto the edge of the bed, I sat there just staring down at the ring still on my left hand. I couldn’t bring myself to take off my engagement ring. Every time I so much as tried, my stomach twisted into painful knots, and my heart felt like it was shattering all over again. So I left it where it was, promising—and lying to—myself that I would take it off the next day.

  Sweet holy, but I missed Dante. Missed his laugh, his smell, the way he would so tenderly take my hand in his and press his lips to the back of it. My eyes clenched closed, fighting back the traitorous tears that burned them. Over and over again, memories of him replayed behind my lids, and my heart wept even as I refused to let my eyes do the same.

  Everything inside me was screaming that Dante would never do something like this to me. Deep down in my soul, I knew he cared about me. But after what happened with Lauren, my mind was convinced my heart and soul were weak idiots.

  Groaning at the inner war between the three, I went into the bathroom to get ready for bed. Teeth brushed, hair pulled into a messy knot on top of my head to keep out of my way during the night, and already dressed in my oversized shirt and panties, I padded back to the bed and crawled under the covers.

  Turning off the light, I just lay there for the longest time. I couldn’t help wondering what Dante was doing. Had he come back to New York to look for me? Was he searching even right that minute? Did he miss me as much as I missed him?

  Or was he still in Chicago, maybe at that second in bed with Lauren…

  My lips twisted in both disgust and disbelief. There was no way Dante could have been the way he was with me our one and only night together and actually wanted her instead of me. He was too much in the moment and not lost in his head imagining her while with me.

  Which meant my mother had some seriously delusional ideas about him.

  Blowing out a heavy sigh, I pulled the covers up over my shoulders as I turned onto my side. Soon, my eyes began to feel heavy and sleep started to take over…

  A loud crash startled me out of a deep sleep. Heart pounding, I sat straight up in bed, my ears straining to listen for the slightest noise over the rush of blood in my ears. The sound of footsteps sent me into action, and I quickly crawled under the bed as fear began to make my stomach toss uncomfortably.

  “You sure the Russian bitch won’t be back tonight?” a hard voice rasped just outside the bedroom door.

  “No clue. We lost her half an hour into following her out of the city,” another deep voice said to the first man. “That’s why we need to hurry the fuck up. Boss won’t be happy if we return empty-handed. And if Volkov returns before we get out, she will kill us both.”

  The door opened, but the light in the hall was still off, so I couldn’t even see their shoes. The sound of their footsteps stomping into the room had me covering my mouth with both hands to keep the noises of my heavy breathing muffled.

  The two men moved with ease, avoiding bumping into furniture and stopping just short of the bed.

  “She’s not here?” the first man growled. “I didn’t see her go out with Volkov earlier.”

  “Quiet,” the second man commanded. “Listen.”

  I held my breath and closed my eyes, praying they wouldn’t find me.

  “Allegra?” The first man called out in a creepy, singsong voice that
made goose bumps of fright pop up along my entire body. “Come out, come out, little dove.”

  I nearly gasped, but I bit down on my bottom lip to keep the sound locked up tight. Little dove. My code name for my security detail was dove. Oh, sweet holy. Had Papa sent these men for me?

  “Allegra, come out,” the second man demanded. “We won’t hurt you.”

  Lie! I could nearly taste the falsehood, or perhaps that was the blood I’d drawn from biting into my lip so hard. I didn’t recognize these two men’s voices, but every last sense was telling me not to trust them.

  “Fuck this. I’ve got shit to do,” the second man gritted out. A pair of shoes startled me as they appeared only inches from my face. I jerked back, bumping my head on the box spring, hard.

  “Gotcha!” the first man laughed wickedly as his hands caught my ankles, and he roughly dragged me out from under the bed.

  The overhead lights were turned on just as I was forced onto my back. The man above me was wearing a pair of night vision goggles. He grinned down at me, and I recognized him immediately. He was the latest addition to Papa’s men before we left Sicily. I wasn’t sure, but I thought his name was Tino. I’d never interacted with him, but he always gave me the creeps.

  “Little girls shouldn’t run away from their daddies,” Tino chided. “Especially little girls who look like you.” One of his hands released my ankle, only to stroke up the outside of my right thigh.

  “Don’t touch me!” I screamed, struggling to get my foot free. My knee came up, clipping him between the legs. I jumped to my feet, ready to run as he howled in pain and fell backward, holding himself.

  But the second man was already standing by the door. His heavily muscled arms wrapped around me like steel bands, locking me in place against his chest. He, like the other man, was a new addition to Papa’s team. His breath was hot on the back of my neck as I kicked backward at his knees and shins.

  My heel caught his kneecap, but he locked his legs before he could fall. Cursing savagely, he spun me around, his fingers painful and bruising on my tender flesh.

  “Hold the little bitch, Dario,” Tino wheezed as he got slowly to his feet. “’Cause I’m gonna kill her.”

  “No, you’re not, idiot. You kill her, Gio will end you,” Dario warned.

  Tino crossed to us, one hand still cupping his groin. Pure hate shone from his eyes as he jerked me out of Dario’s hold and backhanded me. I fell backward, my hand cupping my already aching jaw, and not catching myself as I landed on the floor. Blood trickled down the corner of my lips as more filled my mouth.

  “You dumb fuck,” Dario raged, picking me up. He dusted me off and wiped my face with the hem of his shirt. But his small kindness only lasted two seconds before I was being grabbed roughly by the arms once again.

  He jerked my arms behind my back, but I was still struggling. He was so brutal my shoulders popped in protest, and I had to bite back my cry of pain. Cable ties were fastened around my wrists as Tino jerked the fitted sheet off the bed. He wrapped it around me from head to toe, making it impossible for me to see anything.

  Dario tossed me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and I felt him moving. Nausea, which had been hounding me off and on for the past week, chose then to rear its ugly head. Before I realized what was happening, bile flooded my throat and spilled through the sheet onto his back.

  “For fuck’s sake!” Dario dropped me on the floor and kicked me in the ribs, causing me to whimper as I threw up again and again.

  He kicked me again, this time in the back, then in the stomach. Burning pain seared through my entire body, and I curled up into a ball, trying to make myself as small as possible. But he kept kicking. A sharp kick to my side forced a scream from me. I sobbed, but I knew better than to beg for him to stop. That never worked with Papa when he hurt me. If anything, it only enraged him more, and the beating would go on even longer.

  I was so focused on making myself smaller, on trying to anticipate where the next kick might land, that I didn’t immediately realize there was a new danger that had entered the apartment. It was only when Tino yelled out in rage that I comprehended the presence of a newcomer. The sound of a loud thud as something heavy hit the floor several feet away made me jerk in surprise.

  Dario’s kicking stopped, and then I heard a familiar voice snarling, “Who sent you?”

  “Go fuck yourself, bitch,” Dario sneered.

  “Wrong answer,” Anya told him in a cold, emotionless voice. The next thing I heard was a gurgling sound coming from the man.

  Seconds later, Anya was untangling me from the sheet. When my head was free, I searched the room frantically, terrified of what the two men would do now. Tino was lying on the floor several feet away, his body motionless as his sightless eyes stared straight at me. His neck was at a weird, painful angle, and it took a moment for my brain to register that it was because it was broken.

  Beside me, Dario was still making those disturbing gurgling sounds, pulling my attention to him. There was a huge slit along his throat, so deep it had severed his windpipe. Now he was choking on his own blood, fighting unsuccessfully for oxygen.

  “Shit, this bruise must hurt,” Anya touched her fingers to my jaw, making me flinch in pain. She didn’t seem to care about the vomit that was dripping from my hair or clinging to my jaw as she carefully stroked her fingers over my face and then the rest of my body, checking the full extent of my injuries. She used the long, deadly blade that was dripping with Dario’s blood to release my restraints, then continued her examination.

  Once she was satisfied I wasn’t broken anywhere, she stood and offered me her hand. “Do you know these idiots?”

  My body was starting to tremble as reaction began to set in, and I wrapped my arms around my middle. “They work for my father,” I rasped, my throat raw from all the vomiting.

  “Okay, myshka,” she murmured in a soothing voice. “Let’s get you cleaned up. I will take you somewhere safe, and then come back to clean up this mess.”

  “W-will you take me to Dante?” I asked, tears stinging my eyes as I let her take my shirt off and help me into the shower. My entire body was already feeling the effects of the beating I’d just taken from Dario, and all I wanted was Dante. Nothing else mattered right then, not the scene with my mother, not his deception of keeping her from me. Nothing but having his arms wrapped around me and feeling safe once again.

  “Yes.”

  Sighing with relief, I leaned against the shower wall and let her wash me, in too much pain and shock to offer much help. It hurt to breathe too deeply, so I knew there was something going on with my ribs. Probably broken. Papa liked to keep to the torso and legs when he hurt me, so it wasn’t the first time I’d had a broken rib or two.

  As she washed my hair and then the rest of me, I watched Anya closely. Her eyes were tender, but I could see something burning just under the surface. She’d just killed two men who outweighed and outmuscled her by at least a hundred pounds each, yet she wasn’t even breathing hard. She was amazing…

  And terrifying. This woman, who wasn’t much taller than me, had been the angel of death to two evil men tonight. Yet I wasn’t the least bit scared of her.

  “Anya,” I whispered weakly as she rubbed the towel over my body, drying me like a helpless child.

  “Mm?” she asked distractedly as she continued her task.

  “Thank you.”

  Her hands paused on my stomach, her jaw clenching tight for a long moment. “Don’t thank me,” she said finally as she continued to towel me dry. “Those two must have been watching the building. I led them right to you.”

  “No, this was my fault,” I confessed. “I went out earlier.”

  Her eyes snapped up to mine, her brows furrowing. “You did what?”

  “I went to the library to search for job openings. But as I expected, everything required proof of identification. Which I didn’t have.”

  “Damn it
, Allegra!”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I just…”

  “I was only trying to protect you,” she murmured quietly after a long moment of glaring down at me. “I wasn’t trying to keep you prisoner here.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry.”

  Blowing out a frustrated breath, she shrugged. “It is what it is. Come. We need to get you checked over.”

  “No!” I shied away from her, only to groan in pain when I moved too fast. “You said you would take me to Dante,” I panted, beginning to feel breathless.

  “And I will. After we make sure your ribs are okay and that bastard didn’t rupture anything in there.” She touched the bruises that were already forming on my stomach. “There are important organs in there. You don’t want to leave internal bleeding to heal itself.”

  My shallow breathing was beginning to make me dizzy. “A-Anya,” I whimpered, suddenly more scared of what was going on inside my bruised and aching body than I’d been of the two men who had done this to me.

  Chapter 18

  Dante

  The sound of the garage door lifting had Cristiano and me both reaching for our guns as we jumped to our feet. It was four in the morning, but after another day following Gio around and searching unsuccessfully for Lauren, neither of us was ready for sleep.

  “It has to be Anya,” he said as he walked through the house. His gun was lifted, ready to fire at any moment. “But she said she wasn’t coming back tonight.”

  Gun at the ready, I followed him, watching his back. Anya got out of a car I didn’t recognize and rushed around to the passenger side. I stopped at the sight of Allegra, something untwisting in my chest. I lowered my gun just as she stepped out of the car and nearly fell against Anya.

  “What the fuck happened?” Cristiano demanded, reaching his cousin before I could. In the overhead light, I could see her face was pale, showcasing the bruise on her jaw like a beacon. What the fuck? Anya was supposed to be protecting her. I’d trusted Cristiano when he said she was safe wherever she was.