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Chapter Twenty-Six
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The Mafioso’s Forced Bride Chapter Twenty-Seven
Maria wakes me up the next morning, telling me there's breakfast downstairs. I take some time to wash my face and brush my teeth, try to tame my hair, then I head to the kitchen. On the dinner table, there's fresh bread, butter, cheese, and freshly brewed coffee. The coffee helps in keeping me awake. I barely slept last night. I couldn't stop thinking about everything that Enzo said, and with every passing hour, I realized he's definitely keeping something hidden. I can't figure out what it is, but it's something big. Nevertheless, I was much more comfortable in the bed than I was in that thin mattress. Once again, Maria doesn't let me clean up. I don't fight with her. I have no choice but to go upstairs and sit on the edge of the bed. I've already cleaned the room, so there's nothing else for me to do. I can't wait for this to come to an end. This mundane existence is killing me on the inside. Approximately two hours later, Enzo appears at the door. He's wearing a baby blue t-shir
The Mafioso’s Forced Bride Chapter Twenty-Eight
We get inside another car to get to the dinner. A black SUV. The whole ride, I'm pinching my legs to keep them still. I'm nervous about tonight, mainly because I don't know what to expect and how everything will go. I hate that I’m doing this. This is more humiliating than ever. Having to sit next to the man who killed my family is beyond difficult, and the fact that I can show no aggression proves how unfair this all is. I can’t understand why a man as important as him chooses to waste his time with me. If there could only be a way of me not needing to deal with him, I would take it. I don’t trust myself in his presence. My throat closes up, and I get the urge to scream until my lungs go raw. I turn to look at Enzo and ask him, "Will Giotto be there?" "No," he says. "But Gustavo will. Do me a favor and don't talk to him. If he strikes up a conversation with you, ignore him.""How can I ignore Giotto’s son?" It’s a relief that he won’t be there and I can hardly believe my luck. As
The Mafioso’s Forced Bride Chapter Twenty-Nine
Enzo parks the car in front of a motel. He tells me to stay in the car while he pays for the room. He says 'room' and not 'rooms' and that makes me a little nervous. Does he expect us to sleep in the same room? I don't comment because there's a lot of tension as it is, and the last thing I need is for him to take out his stress on me. Those dead mice were meant for one of us, or both. I have no idea who could have sent those, but he definitely knows, he's just not telling me. But I'll pester him until I have the answer. Don't I have the right to know who's threatening to kill me? He returns to the car and slams the door. He peaks right in front of the room he rented. He switches the car off and sits with his hands on the steering wheel. Abruptly, he starts pounding his fists against it. I flinch with every punch. After he's done taking all his anger out on the steering wheel, he opens the door and slams it shut again. He walks to the door and unlocks it, leaving it wide open. I clim
The Mafioso’s Forced Bride Chapter Thirty
I clean the room and try to smooth the wrinkles of my dress down. I don’t like looking unkempt. It makes me feel like I’ve lost control, and if there’s anything that I can control it’s my physical appearance, if I can help it. But that’s not entirely it; I’m doing this so I don’t look at the empty spot on the bed and think about what happened last night. I then wash my face with cold, cold water to stun last night's events out of me, and brush my hair with my fingers. Despite not having a brush or comb, it still looks flawless. I’ve never seen my hair like this. It’s incredible what a professional hairdresser can do. Enzo is taking an eternity to return. I have no way of communicating with him. No phone, nothing. Well, there is a phone here in the room, but who would I call? I don't have his number. All I can do is sit here with my grumbling stomach and wait for his arrival. I can't believe that he kissed me last night. In fact, that whole scene is a little hazy so I'm left wonder
The Mafioso’s Forced Bride Chapter Thirty-One
"What do you mean by with us?" He smiles smugly. "I mean that you'll be staying with us, the Puglia family. You'll find that we're very accommodating folk. I guarantee you'll have the time of your life."I sink into the seat. I wish it would expand and swallow me whole. I get the sudden urge to unlock the door, and jump out of the car. Time of her life? How am I going to have the time of my life living with the people responsible for my family’s death? I tell him weakly, “You've got to be joking."He turns and shakes his head solemnly. "I'm afraid it's the truth. Enzo spoke to me this morning and asked the favor personally. It's safer. That way, the de Luca brothers won't get to you."It takes me a moment to process what he's saying to me. This isn't a joke. I'm going to be living with the Puglias, with this man Enzo doesn't even trust. It feels so surreal that my head spins for a beat. I feel nauseous suddenly, like I might throw my guts up. Meanwhile, he keeps both his hands on the
The Mafioso’s Forced Bride Chapter Thirty-Two
I open my eyes and daylight is flooding the room.I sit up quickly and look around for a clock so I can figure out what time it is, but I find none. It's disorienting, waking up in this strange place, surrounded by people who despise me. I climb out of bed and step on one of the bags. The sight of all of them makes me depressed. How am I supposed to deal with all this? Where will I even do my laundry? I fish a pair of dark washed jeans from one of the bags and the only top that isn't excessively wrinkled. I get into the shower and blast the hot water. There are tiny bottles of shampoo and body wash in the shower, so I use those. I completely forgot about the ones I bought the other day; they're probably still in one of the bags. The shampoo dries my hair out and so does the body wash. I let out a frustrated sigh. I wrap a towel around my body and tiptoe back into the room to look for the ones Enzo bought. Bastard. I hate to think of his name. It fills me with a rage that I can’t qui
The Mafioso’s Forced Bride Chapter Thirty-Three
I turn around slowly.Giotto is standing a few feet away from me. He's stroking a black cat with iridescent green eyes. I press my lips together and gaze at him. He smiles politely, but there's a darkness in his eyes that I've come to know all too well. It’s the intent to harm, and manipulate. Humiliate. There aren’t enough words for everything that he is capable of. After a long moment of silence, he says to me, "I'm waiting, my dear. It is very rude to not greet the owner of the house."I lick my lips. They're numb all of a sudden. I force them to move and look at the carpeted floor. My heart is racing in my chest. I’m sure I’m perspiring all over my body. Rage is coursing through me, and I feel ready to explode like a volcano. He’s doing this on purpose, of course he is. He wants to see how far he can go with me. He will test me to my limits, and then laugh about it later with his ridiculous friends who find pleasure in destroying the lives of innocents. She bites out a, "Hello."
The Mafioso’s Forced Bride Chapter Thirty Four
Three whole days have passed, yet it feels like it's been at least a month. Enduring the Puglias isn't an easy task. They're terrible people, always looking for someone weak to take advantage of. They take pride in being sarcastic and ill-tempered. When I say the Puglia’s, I mean Giotto and his daughter. Gustavo is the exception, as ludicrous as that seems. It's evident that he can't stand them, for the obvious reasons. I still can't believe that his own wife has an open affair with his father, and everyone around here seems to think that it's normal. They'll hold each other with affection in front of the staff, and no one looks twice at them. I personally came across them in the corridor. He was kissing her tenderly while holding that cat of his. I turned on my heel and marched to my bedroom. The sight of them makes me sick. I feel sorry for Gustavo. I don’t know how he can endure this. I believe that he hates his father, and I think that perhaps he hates him more than all of us. H
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