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Wedding Bells
Last Updated:
2024-10-07 01:11:00
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Indebted to the Mafia King Mrs. Cattaneo
EleniI twist the ribbon around my deep purple bouquet and look out over the reception. The wives rented a massive ballroom in a hotel close enough to the church that we all walked over when the ceremony ended, and if you’d asked me to guess what Nicky thought a wedding reception should look like, I would’ve described exactly this. There’s nowhere in this place I can look without being confronted by something that sparkles or bears the exact “eggplant” and “pine forest” that are apparently our colors.Above every table, something that looks like a baby mobile made out of twinkle lights and strings of crystals hang. On the purple and green tablecloths sit the most ridiculous place settings I’ve ever seen. The gilt-edged china sports crossed flowers, a dusty green spring of something that looks more like leaves to me but which she said grow around the Acropolis and a sprig of Italian lilac, both also lined in gold. Apparently, they symbolize the joining of our houses. But what really ma
Last Updated : 2024-10-08Indebted to the Mafia King Back in Charge
EleniI slam my hands down on my desk on the second floor of the Staten Island house, the long sleeves of my wedding dress dulling the thud. “What the fuck do you mean, you don’t know?”Amando, the man I’ve begun considering my capo, loosens his purple tie and shrugs. “Nobody knows who the fuck they are. I’ve got a couple reports they were at the church. The guard at the door said he never saw them come in. They’re feds, obviously, but did you see the names on the badges?”“No, I fucking didn’t, because I was in the process of having my husband arrested at my wedding!” I suck in a deep breath and run my hands through my hair. I took it down sometime on the ride from the ballroom to here, but a few pins still plink onto the floor around my feet.I’m losing it. The house is a swarm of activity—wives, trying to get everybody fed; capos, trying to figure this out; guests, just trying to figure out how a wedding went so wrong—and they need a goddamn leader. They need me.No, they need the
Last Updated : 2024-10-09Indebted to the Mafia King Somewhere in New York
DanteMy wrists burn from twisting them against the zip cuffs, my ankles chafe from the same treatment around the legs of the chair, my shoulders ache from how far my arms have been pulled back, my faces throbs from how many times these goddamn bruisers have hit me, but all I can think about is El.I should be home in bed with her right now, fighting with whatever fiddly little fixtures they put on her wedding dress. She should be screaming my name. I should be screaming hers.Instead, I’m sitting in a musty-ass basement, bound to a metal chair under one flickering light like these assholes got their set-up right out of an ‘80s mafia movie. I spit blood on the concrete floor and look up at the man who “arrested” me in the middle of my goddamn wedding.“So tell me,” I say, “how do you go from Coppola to the Russians?”That, of course, earns me another punch to the face. I grit my teeth and take it.“Cuteness isn’t going to get you far,” Jace growls. “I’m here to get answers, and I’m ha
Last Updated : 2024-10-10Indebted to the Mafia King Ties That Bind
EleniI sit in the passenger seat of a black, bulletproof sedan, watching the blinking dot of the tracker on my phone. “Left here.”Tony turns smoothly. The engine is nearly silent, which seems almost pointless in the noisy, New York City night, but I’m not giving up any advantage here. It took me embarrassingly long to remember the tracker—or, more accurately, to hope the feds hadn’t bothered to take it off of him. I was halfway through hacking the city’s FBI base when I looked down at my own hand and the rings caught the light.“And…that’s the last precinct turnoff I know of,” Mikey says from the back seat, where he’s sliding together piece after piece of a sniper rifle, just in case. “Bronx cops don’t bother with spots this far out.”“Me either,” Tony says. “Maybe they took him to one of those fucking black sites.”Distantly, I note a chill of worry would touch me at those words, if I weren’t already frozen.“You’re sure you don’t remember the names on any of the badges?” I ask. “T
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EleniTony hits the ground running in front of me, already yanking his gun out of his holster. Mikey fumbles with the door a second, but he’s out immediately after that, the carefully laid plan of the sniper rifle abandoned behind him. I slam down the pavement, thankful I abandoned my usual heels in favor of a pair of sneakers Gianna offered me silently before we left. Different windows of the apartment block light in bright bursts. Muzzle flashes, I know. The attendant pop of the gunfire follows on their heels, like thunder after lighting. People scatter out of our way. I grip my gun at my side. No sweat makes it slip. The leather warms in my palm as I run through scenarios.If they’re keeping Dante at the top, we’ll have to fight our way up. But that also means they’re vulnerable to attacks from above, if we had the time to set that up. I told someone to call in all the allies we have, but that doesn’t make a difference. It’s not like Cal or the triads are about to loan us a helicop
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DanteJace is glaring at me sullenly from the other side of the room they’re keeping me in when the first gunshots ring out.“What the fuck?” he says.I grin. El’s here. Hopefully with the cavalry in tow. I scrape the stone in my ring over the plastic faster and faster. I’m almost through, and now, I have nothing to lose in Jace seeing me.“Wait, what the fuck are you doing?” He leaps to his feet.Out of time. Better hope I sawed enough. I tense my arms and yank.One of the cuffs snaps just as Jace throws himself at me, his baton raised for another strike. Idiot. I use the momentum of the cuffs breaking to swing my right fist forward, directly into his cheek. The blow knocks him off balance just enough that I can drive my elbow into the meat of his bicep—not impressive-looking, but it makes him whimper—and that exposes his right side. Where the fucking moron still has his service weapon holstered. I snatch it out and fire two shots point-blank into his chest.Before he even hits the f
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EleniI close my eyes on the floor in Dante’s arms and open them again somewhere warm and tan and lonely. Distantly, I can hear voices. My stomach aches.My stomach! I shoot up, yank up the “I Heart NYC” shirt covering my abdomen for some reason, and probe the skin there. I was shot. Someone—Fyodor, judging by how much nicer his suit was—shot me in the stomach, like he knew exactly who I was. But there’s no gaping bullet hole, not even a careful line of black stitches.Because I wore the stupid bulletproof vest, I’ve got a welt, a bruise so dark it’s almost black, and a hell of a headache from the bullet knocking me on my ass, and nothing more.The voices raise slightly, and a door I hadn’t noticed yet opens. Dante steps in wearing a matching T-shirt with his arm in a sling. Behind him, Dr. Domino frowns.“You’re up,” Dante says breathlessly.Everything hits me at once. He’s here. I’m here. We’re both alive. And I don’t think he’d be looking at me with that sunrise light in his eyes i
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EleniDante surges up into my mouth, then grunts in pain. I pull back immediately.“And what if your husband just got the shit kicked out of him?” He smiles sheepishly and gestures to the sling on his arm.Even when he was shot, he didn’t ask for anything. He really is a different man now.“Doesn’t change a thing.” I climb slowly on top of him. My side aches, and my head spins a little. I brace my arms on either side of his head and lean down to kiss him again.His mouth slots perfectly into mine. I know the taste of his lips, the half-gasp that precedes his cock stiffening underneath me, the flutter of his fingers over my bruise. I’ve spent so much time thinking about how well Dante knows me that I never even realized how well I know him. My hips begin moving against him of their own accord in a slow, undulating rhythm.He groans against my lips.“Fuck these shirts.” I try to yank his shirt over his head, but the sleeve gets caught on his sling, and I begin laughing.“What?” He runs
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TatianaI regret leaving the house the moment I reach the city. The buildings are monstrous, and I’m not used to a place as overwhelmingly chaotic as New York. At first, I was determined to head straight to the apartment Lev had rented—curious, optimistic, convinced that whatever he’d left there might hold answers about Oleg. I had hoped to find something, anything, that could help the Saints in their mission to dismantle the Romina Empire.I type the address Lev sent via email into the GPS, but I start recognizing the street names—familiar turns, shops and signs. Then I see it— the corner deli where Angelo kidnapped me that day. My stomach turns over and the blood in my veins turns to ice. I’m too close to the place where the wedding ceremony took place. Where I ran from. Where it all began.Emotionally, I begin to unravel and as if that’s not enough, I realize the car behind me has been changing lanes immediately after I merge for long enough that I’m being followed. Panic claws
Indebted to the Mafia King She's Gone
AngeloA sharp beep echoes from the garage downstairs and jerks me out of sleep.For a second, I think it’s part of a dream. I lie still, blinking at the ceiling. But something feels off—too quiet, too empty.I don’t need to look to my side to know she’s gone.I feel it.The air is colder. The silence heavier.I sit up, scanning the room. The door is open. Lights off. Nothing.Then I notice it—my gun, keys, and wallet are missing.“Fuck,” I growl, bolting out of bed. I yank on my pants and shove my arms through my shirt like I’m racing death itself. My chest tightens, adrenaline slamming through my veins like a freight train.She took my car, my weapon, and my goddamn trust.“You can’t do this to me, Tatiana,” I mutter, storming into the hallway. My voice is hoarse, laced with anger and something far worse—fear.“She’s gone!” I shout down the corridor, pounding on Dice’s door without waiting. “Get the fuck up—we’ve got a problem.”Dice swings the door open already halfway dressed, eye
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*Tatiana*Angelo and I ended up in bed after our talk on the porch. Not because we reached an understanding—we didn’t. We’re still standing on opposite sides of a line neither of us is willing to cross. But I knew pushing him harder would only cause more damage.So, I hold my tongue.For now, keeping the peace meant swallowing my pride, locking my thoughts away, and playing the role of someone willing to wait.It’s after midnight. Rain pounds against the windows like a warning—fierce, unrelenting. Angelo lies asleep beside me, peaceful, unaware of the storm brewing right here in this bed.I watch him for a long moment, memorizing the shape of him, the warmth of him, just in case this is the last time.Sleep won’t come, so I reach for the tablet on my nightstand. I browse for a while—news, maps, dead ends. Then, on impulse, I check my old email. I haven’t opened it since I left Russia. I expect spam, junk, maybe nothing at all.What I don’t expect is a message from Lev.Dated the night
Indebted to the Mafia King Conflicts
*Tatiana*I grit my teeth and force myself not to roll my eyes. Throwing a tantrum won’t help—but that doesn’t stop the anger simmering just beneath my skin. I don’t like the way Angelo drew that line between us. Cold. Sharp. Final.It’s not just that he’s shutting me out. It’s how he’s doing it—like I’m still some piece on his chessboard, a liability to manage. A prisoner, technically. But from him? That’s a slap in the face.He’s across the kitchen, body rigid, watching me. I ignore him. If he wants distance, fine. I’ve had worse from men with half his brain and twice his ego.I focus on the window, jaw tight. I will find a way to be useful, whether he lets me or not. I didn’t survive this long just to be benched.“Give me a cigarette,” Angelo mutters, moving toward Sal and snatching the pack from the table.My gaze flicks over in time to see the tension in his shoulders, the anger in his hands.He doesn’t smoke. Hasn’t since I got here.“Sure you wanna do that?” Kian asks, brows ra
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AngeloI pull myself from the bed and get dressed, still feeling the rush from my quick encounter with Tatiana. As much as I want to spend more time with her, I know I can't afford to linger. Work’s been piling up, and I’ve been slacking lately—ever since things started getting heated between us. The Saints need me, and I can’t ignore them.Keeping an eye on Tatiana, as per Tony’s orders, has also taken a lot of my focus. I haven’t had a chance to personally discuss with him yet what Tatiana shared with me about her past and her involvement with the Rominas, but I know that Sal and Dice have already filled him in. I just hope Tony doesn’t see her as a liability or a potential threat, but instead, as an ally."Can I ask you something?" Tatiana’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. She’s lying there, looking up at me, her lashes fluttering in that way I know always gets me."Sure," I reply, trying to sound casual. I walk back toward her but keep my distance so we don’t end up going for ro
Indebted to the Mafia King Making Up
TatianaThe morning sun warms my skin, stirring me gently from sleep. I stretch my arms above my head, muscles loosening as a sense of peace settles over me. It’s strange how a good night’s sleep can reset everything—my mood, my resolve, even my sense of purpose. Today, I feel new. Whole.Turning to my side, I gaze at Angelo. He’s still asleep, facing me, his features relaxed and soft in the quiet light. I take him in—the curve of his lips, the strong line of his jaw, those unruly dark curls that slip over closed eyes, guarded by lashes so long they could make any woman jealous.He looks like a different man when he’s asleep—unbothered, weightless. Awake, he carries the world like it’s chained to his back.A part of me wants to believe I’m the reason for that peace. That I’m helping him, in the way he’s helped me—just by being here, by seeing him, really seeing him, the way that no one else has. Just as he’s able to see me differently.My heart pounds as flashes of the past two weeks
Indebted to the Mafia King Nostalgia
*Tatiana*Getting to finally meet two other members of the Saints feels somewhat… exciting. I was shocked to see the one I had cut while running away from the wedding was part of their gang. This whole time, I’d just assumed that he had been working for Oleg. At least he doesn’t seem to be holding a grudge against me, which is a relief.The other one, though—Dice—was harder to convince that he can trust me, but in the end, I think they both believed me and my story. I still don’t know the plans they have for me, and I assume they need to tell their boss what I’ve disclosed first, but surprisingly, I’m not that worried about my future anymore. I know Angelo won’t leave me on the street by myself. He’ll find a way to keep me protected, even if his boss tells him I’m of no use to them anymore.Maybe I can return to Russia and start again somehow. The mere thought of leaving Angelo behind hurts my heart, but if that’s what it comes to in the end, I’ll have to find a way. It’s a bit alar
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AngeloTatiana and I spend the rest of the day in her room, only leaving for dinner, and we’re back in bed before midnight. The house is empty because the rest of the team had to go to a meeting with Tony and left me here watching her—since, in their words, I already know how to deal with her.I wanted to punch the smirks off their faces, but they weren’t wrong.I also don’t want them near Tatiana while they’re still so suspicious of her. That would only scare her. And now that she’s shared everything with me, I’m more convinced than ever that I was right all along—she was never a threat.There’s no way she could be such a good actor and lie about her past. I saw the pain in her eyes, the hatred, and the guilt she carries. It’s the exact same look I see in the mirror when I stare at myself.I told her I didn’t think I could hate Oleg any more than I already did, but now that I know what he put her through… God, rage boils inside me to the point I can barely control it.Luca, Tatiana’s
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*Tatiana*I lie against Angelo’s chest, staring blankly at the wall, his thumb circling gentle caresses on my back. The sun is setting outside, and I have lost track of how long we’ve been here. For all I care, we could just stay here forever. I wouldn’t mind.I wonder where the other guys are or if they know what we’re doing in here, but I don’t bother to ask ngelo about it. Not that I’m embarrassed about what we did, but we’re supposed to be enemies, kidnapper and kidnapped. This isn’t how things were supposed to evolve between us.I bet they hate me for not giving them what they want, for wasting their time, and for fucking Angelo–something they’re all probably aware of by now.But what can I do? It’s not like I forced him to sleep with me. I didn’t even try that hard to seduce him.“What are you thinking about?” he whispers against my head, placing a soft kiss on my temple.“Not much,” I reply with a shrug.“I doubt that,” he says, continuing his featherlight strokes on my skin.H
