She dips her chin, then turns and begins to box up the pastry. She hands the full box over to Roman who is working the register. He grunts then gives me my total before he lifts his eyes to me.
“Ferrucci, what the fuck?” he grinds out.
“Dessert for my wife,” I say with a shrug.
Roman shakes his head. “You’re not getting a dime from me, Ferrucci. Not a goddamn red cent.”
My lips twitch as I take out a fifty from my pocket. I know that the pastries are less than half that amount, but I’m making a point and being a dick all at the same time. He opens the cash register and starts to get my change. Lifting my hand, I wave it in his face.
“No change,” I murmur. “You have something for me?”
I watch as his lips curl in disgust. “Never. I’m not giving you anything. You can put your men out there all you want, you can harass me, whatever the fuck. I’m not giving you a fucking dime,” he growls.
Arching a brow, I snort. “You’ll change your mind. Just remember, interest starts on Friday.”
As if something shifts around us, the small bakery is filled with yelling. Someone grabs my arm, twisting it behind me. I don’t realize what’s happening until I hear the words, racketeering, extortion, and federal agent.
Fuck.
PIPPA
Marissa is sitting in the café when I arrive. I notice her profile before I see anything else. Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I hesitate at the door. Looking to my right, I notice there’s a man in a suit. Frowning, I turn toward him, but he looks down at his feet.
Shaking my head, assuming he’s some kind of protection, I decide to ignore him. Tugging the door open, I take a step inside. Marissa must sense me. I watch as she turns and a huge smile appears on her lips as she lifts her hand and waves.
Inhaling a deep breath, I walk over to her table. I’m not the same girl that I was the last time I saw her. I’m married now, married to a Made Man in the Zanetti famiglia mafia. What the fuck am I going to tell her?
“Let me see that ring,” Marissa snaps as soon as I sink down into the seat across from hers.
Reaching for the coffee that is in front of me, I act extra dramatic with my hand. “Which ring? This one?” I ask, wiggling my finger.
She grabs my hand, pulling it closer to her from across the table. “Oh my God. Who is he?” she cries.
“Someone I’ve known for years,” I say, deciding to tell her as much of the truth as I can.
“How come I didn’t know anything about him?”
Pressing my lips together, my eyes search hers. “We reconnected a couple weeks ago and then it just happened.”
“You didn’t invite me,” she says softly, not hiding her hurt as she drops my hand.
Wrapping my fingers around my coffee, I look down at my lap, then lift my gaze back to meet hers. “It happened really fast. I didn’t invite anyone. My sister and aunt were there, but that’s all.”
She tilts her head to the side, narrowing her eyes, then sighs. “Okay. It’s weird though. Are you knocked up?”
My coffee is against my lips and I choke with a cough. “I’m not, yet,” I breathe.
“Yet?” she screeches.
Laughing softly, I shake my head. “Yeah, Massimo wants children now.”
“You’re twenty,” she cries. “That’s crazy, what about your future?”
Shifting my eyes to the side, I let out an exhale. I knew I should have cut all contact. I should have deleted my Instagram. I shouldn’t have posted the picture and I shouldn’t have come here and met Marissa for coffee.
“This is my future, Marissa. I’m not in college, I can’t go to college. I’m Massimo’s wife, that’s who I am.”
“You’re crazy,” she snaps. “You’re too young to settle. Too damn young. Don’t ruin your life.”
Leaving the coffee on the table, I stand. Tears well in my eyes as I shake my head from side to side. She doesn’t understand and I knew that she wouldn’t. It’s not her fault, she doesn’t understand my circumstances.
To Marissa, life is fun and games. You choose a college major, you live in dorms, you date, and you have fun until you graduate. Then you start your career and get married. Later, you make two children, then buy a golden retriever puppy and trade your sedan in for a minivan.
“I’m sorry, Marissa. This is my life. I’m married now,” I whisper.
Turning around, I walk away from her. She calls my name, but I ignore her. Maybe I’ll be able to talk to her later. But right now, I can’t. She’s not wrong, I probably have ruined my life, but this was the best option I had.
Massimo is better than a line of strangers, and there’s the pesky little fact that I’m falling in love with him. Head over heels in love with him. It’s been days and I’m falling for my husband. I shouldn’t let myself feel anything emotional for him, but I do. I can’t help myself.
Chapter Nineteen
MASSIMO
The federal pig sits across from me. He hasn’t said shit to me since he read me my rights. Though I’m not sure why he doesn’t just put me in a fucking cell and be done with it, I’m not going to tell him shit.
I’m no fucking rat.
“I want to help you,” he lies. “I see that you were just married, don’t you want to protect your wife?”
I snort. He has no fucking idea that my wife is one of the most protected women in the world, just for the simple fact that she has my last name and then there’s the possibility that my baby is growing inside of her.
Pressing my lips closed, I stare at the agent.
He’s in his mid-forties, his hair is clipped short, he’s fit and his face is clean-shaven. If I had to guess, I’d say he gets pussy fairly often, even for a pig. Though, I know some women like that kind of thing.
“My wife is not your concern. Keep her off your mind entirely, she doesn’t exist to you,” I bark.
He smirks, thinking that he’s struck some kind of nerve. He hasn’t. Granted, I don’t want him anywhere near Pippa, but it’s not because I’m scared she’ll betray me. I know without a doubt that she wouldn’t.
She understands the repercussions of betrayal more than anyone. Her father died and her sister’s body was sold because of him. Pippa won’t say a single word against me, not that she knows anything anyway, not really.
He licks his lips, shaking his head once as he flicks his eyes from mine to the two-way mirror behind me. I don’t show any reaction to his move.
I have no doubt that his men are watching us, most likely recording us as well. They’re waiting for me to slip up, trying to gauge a reaction from me, one that they won’t get.
“We can protect her and you. Answer a few questions and I have no doubt we can get you into witness protection,” he offers.
Leaning forward, I grin as I shift my gaze from side to side like I’m going to tell him a secret. “I want my lawyer,” I whisper. “Now.”
“You sure about that? Let me help you. It’d be a shame to go down for this when your young pretty wife is out there all alone,” he murmurs.
“Lawyer,” I repeat, a little louder.
A knock on the window causes his body to jerk, though I don’t even fucking flinch. I was right. They’re watching us and my calling for Salvatore Jr., has them sweating.
I watch him stand, then leave the room, his eyes cutting back to me one last time as if to see if I’ll be begging for him to listen to me rat out Gavino and the rest of the famiglia.
Smirking, I don’t waver even an ounce. He shakes his head, then stomps the rest of the way out of the room.
They keep me locked in the interrogation room for far longer than I should be. Checking my watch, I frown at the time. Dinner time. I know that Pippa is probably waiting for me, wearing next to nothing.
Salvatore Jr. walks through the door, jerking me from my thoughts of my wife, of Pippa. He frowns as he eyes me, shaking his head once before he sits down.
“They aren’t supposed to be li
stening right now.”
“I’m sure they’re not. Seeing as they’re the police, they’re supposed to uphold the law, yeah?” I ask.
Salvatore snorts. “Yeah. Well, we all know how that goes. Have you said anything?”
“‘Course not,” I snap. “Not an amateur, cugino.”
He chuckles, then opens his briefcase. “I know you’re not, but I had to make sure. So as far as I can see, your charges are circumstantial at best. In my opinion, they saw an opportunity to get to the Boss, trying to use you to find out information. Even if this sticks, you don’t have any priors.”
“There’s something you’re not telling me,” I say.
His eyes lift to meet mine. “Racketeering is serious. The RICO Act is no fucking joke, Mass. You’re looking at thirty years minimum if you’re tried and convicted.”
“Fuck,” I hiss.
He nods his head once. “Extortion is easier to get around. You could get off with paying some fines, or a couple of years in a federal penitentiary.”
“You telling me to make a deal?”
Salvatore shakes his head. “I’m not saying shit, yet. I’m explaining your charges. They’re going to come in here and talk with us again. You’ll be making an appearance in court within seventy-two hours, then you’ll be arraigned after that with official charges. Then we’ll go from there.”
Nodding my head, I inhale a deep breath. “You’ll go talk to Pippa, yeah? She doesn’t know where I am.”
Salvatore stands, dipping his chin, his eyes catch mine. “You’ll be okay, Massimo. I got you.”
“I know you do, cugino.”
He leaves the room but doesn’t leave the station yet. He’s there as the police take me out of the room, book me, and officially throw my ass in jail to wait to appear before the judge. This is fucking bullshit. I haven’t been arrested since I was a juvenile and got caught stealing cars.
Salvatore jerks his chin at me as I walk by. I don’t say a word, holding my head up high, I walk with my hands behind my back like a common fucking criminal. I know that I’m no saint. I know most of the shit that I do is illegal, but I also know that I’m not a bad person, not truly.
I don’t fuck with kids.
I don’t kill people just for shits and giggles.
Like most of the men in the famiglia, I’m a decent fucking human. People on the other side of the law just don’t understand that there needs to be all walks of life to make the world turn—including illegal avenues and resources that our famiglia provides.
PIPPA
Tonight, I decided on something a little sweeter. Last night was a success with my naughtier outfit. It seems Massimo likes whatever I wear, as long as it’s lingerie, to dinner. I don’t understand the obsession, but I’m more comfortable with it today than I was a few days ago, in fact, I kind of look forward to it now.
I sit at the table and wait for him. Tomorrow I’m going to go to the grocery store, get food for us, and attempt to make a meal. Massimo had quite a few groceries delivered, but there are some things that I need still. It’s not that I don’t know how to cook, I just haven’t done it often.
Pressing my lips together, I look at the clock on my phone and frown. It’s well past the time that he’s been coming home every night.
I debate sending him a text to ask him where he is. I don’t want him to think that I’m nagging or that I’m trying to control him. But I also need to know if he’s going to be coming home. Sitting here in this barely-there lingerie is kind of ridiculous if he’s going to be late.
Standing, I decide to grab a robe. It’s chilly and I can’t sit there and do nothing. Slipping my arms through the silk robe, I tie the waist tightly just as I hear the doorbell ring. I almost don’t realize what the noise is. Since I’ve lived here, we haven’t had a single visitor.
Looking down at myself, I shake my head. I’m sure that Massimo wouldn’t want me answering the door in a negligee, high heels, and robe, but I don’t have a choice right now.
Hurrying toward the door, my breath hitches at the sight of a suited man on the other side. He lifts his gaze as though he can see through the peephole and directly into my eyes. He’s wearing a suit made for his body, which means he’s most likely a Made Man.
“Pippa, it’s Salvatore. I’m Massimo’s attorney, I work for Gavino. Can you open up?” Biting the corner of my lip, my hand hovers above the deadbolt lock. “He’s in trouble, he sent me to talk to you. I’ve just left the police station.”
My hand immediately turns the lock, then I twist the doorknob and tug the door open. Salvatore doesn’t even look at me, with his head down, he pushes his way past me into the house.
Closing the door behind him, I don’t follow him into the living room. Instead, I watch and wait for what he’s going to say or do next, if he’s not one of Massimo’s friends. If he’s an enemy, I’m going to bolt as fast as my high heels will take me.
“Massimo was arrested this afternoon,” he announces as he sinks down into a chair.
I blink. “Why?” I ask, keeping my voice even.
My entire body is trembling and I’m seconds from my knees giving out and landing on the floor. I lean back against the door, placing my palms on the wood for leverage, but it’s no use, I’m still seconds from ending up on my ass.
“Racketeering and extortion,” he murmurs. “His appearance before the judge is set for first thing in the morning. I’ll be there at his side. It’s up to you if you would like to be as well. All they’ll do is state what his official charges are and if he’s going to stay in jail until his arraignment.”
“What do I do?” I whisper. “I don’t know what to do.” My voice rises with each word.
Salvatore stands, swiftly making his way toward me. Without a word, he gathers me in his arms, then he bends slightly and slides his arm beneath my knees before he carries me over to the couch.
“You’re going to sit down first of all,” he says, keeping his voice low and even.
He crouches down in front of me, his eyes finding mine. He searches my face, then as if he makes an internal decision, he nods.
“You’re going to be okay, Pippa.”
“Am I?”
His lips turn up into a small smirk. “Yeah. Now, the racketeering charge is concerning. That’s a thirty-year minimum sentence if he’s found guilty.”
My eyes widen and I lift my hand before my lips part and I let out a gasp. I’ll be almost fifty by the time he gets out if he serves the entire sentence. I don’t know if I can be married to a man who is going to spend half of our lives in jail.
“However,” Salvatore continues. “Extortion holds a much lower sentence, probably only a couple years and some kind of fine.”
Nodding, my eyes fill with tears at the thought of Massimo being gone for thirty years. What the hell am I going to do? That security that I thought he offered me, it’s now completely gone.
Vanished.
I’m alone, possibly for the foreseeable future. My heart starts to slam against my chest, my breathing becomes labored and shallow. Lifting my gaze to meet Salvatore’s, my eyes widen and I shake my head as I reach out, curling my fingers in his suit jacket lapels.
“What happens to me if he’s convicted of racketeering?” I hiss on a whisper.
He gives me a sad-looking smile, wrapping his hands around my wrists and shakes his head once. “You’ll be taken care of, Pippa. Wives are always taken care of,” he says, stressing the word wives.
And if I don’t want to be a wife, alone for thirty years? I want to ask him that, but I know without a doubt that it is the wrong question. Asking that would be detrimental to my safety, it would show that I’m not one hundred percent loyal to Massimo and the famiglia.
“Okay,” I whisper. Licking my lips, I focus on his gaze, shoving the rest of my questions and concerns away, for now. “What do I do now?”
Salvatore smiles, it’s genuine and although it doesn’t reach his eyes, it’s kind. This is another m
an who has a past of heartache behind him.
“I’ll be by at seven to pick you up,” he offers, his voice gentle.
“What do I do until then?”
He tilts his head to the side, confused by my question. But honestly, since marrying Massimo, I haven’t been alone at night.
I don’t have a car, not that I really need one, but I don’t have any money other than what he handed me to go shopping. I don’t have access to anything of his. I am completely at the famiglia’s mercy and it terrifies me.
Completely fucking terrifies me.
Chapter Twenty
MASSIMO
I didn’t sleep for shit, which isn’t surprising. I haven’t spent a night in jail since I was a punk-assed teenager. It wasn’t much different this time than it was the last.
Dressed in my same suit, I attempt to make myself look as presentable as possible to see the judge for the first time. This judge is going to determine what happens to me from this moment on.
Do I stay here, or do I get to go home?
Walking into the courtroom, my eyes find Salvatore and I smirk at him. He grins, shifting is gaze behind him. My eyes follow his gaze and my heart stops beating in my chest at the sight of my wife sitting behind him.
Rage fills my body.
She shouldn’t be here. I didn’t want her to see me like this. Not ever. She gives me a sad smile, but I look away, ignoring her. Taking my seat next to Salvatore, I narrow my eyes on him.
“What the fuck?” I hiss.
“She wanted to know what she could do to help,” he says with a shrug of his shoulder.
I shake my head once. “You think I want her here? For this?”
“She’s your wife, Mass,” he informs me, as if I don’t fucking know.
“For less than a week, Sal. She doesn’t know shit about the life, not really. She needs to be at home.”
Salvatore opens his mouth to speak, but the bailiff announces that the judge is entering and demands that we all rise. Neither one of us speaks again as we stand to our feet. The judge walks up to his bench and dips his chin as he sits down. We’re told we can sit, so we follow suit.
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