Married to the mafia boss Series

Ten fingers, ten toes, one eyeball and fifty lash marks later and Luca still hasn’t confessed to where Marco is holding Liliana.

Drastic times call for drastic measures. I unbutton and unzip his pants earning a disgusted curl of Luca’s lip. “What are you, a fag?”

“No, but you’re going to wish I was because if you don’t answer my question this will be the last few moments you’re going to spend with your little cock,” I let him hang out of his pants as I grab the knife and carefully skim the blade over the base of his flaccid dick.

“I’m not going to answer you,” he shouts.

“Fine with me,” I shrug as I grip his dick hard and prepare to cut straight through.

“Wait!” He screams. “Wait! I’ll tell you!”

I drop his dick and wait for the answer I’ve finally been waiting for. I could’ve started with his dick but it was much too fun tearing him apart piece by piece.

“One of the Bratva warehouses. That’s where she is. I don’t know which one.”Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

I bring my knife to his dick once more.

“I swear!” His eye widens. “I swear I don’t know which warehouse! I was supposed to keep you occupied here and convince you to step down. I was never supposed to meet up with my father at the warehouse. A few of his men are there with him.”

“Which one’s?”

“Samuel, Archie and Joseph!”

“Now that wasn’t so hard was it?”

Luca’s body sags in relief but I take the knife and cut his dick off anyways. His screams are loud enough for the entire City to hear.

“That one was for Arabella and this,” I place the knife against his throat, “is for Lily.” The screams die and peaceful silence fills the room.

Luca is dead.

Liliana

I passed out from shock when the strange man with cold eyes sliced my finger as if it were a piece of carrot. It hurt so bad and even know it’s still throbbing.

I don’t know the men who took me but they don’t sound like the Bratva. They sound like regular Americans with thick New York accents. I only realize who took me when they bring in someone whom I’ve known nearly all of my life.

The Famiglia’s private doctor in New York.

The doctor brings in familiar technology I remember from my appointment with Doctor Conti back in Chicago. One of the men who kidnapped me lifts up my nightgown while the doctor rubs the cold gel on me and begins taking a sonogram.

“She’s pregnant alright,” the doctor nods his head staring intently at the screen.

It’s much different than when I was in Doctor Conti’s office. She had a smile on her face that didn’t waiver for a single moment. This doctor is strictly business carrying out orders from someone… someone in the Famiglia?

Why would someone in New York kidnap me, I’m the Capo’s daughter and the other Capo’s wife. It would mean certain death for them.

The kidnapper squints his eyes at the screen and replies, “That’s what he suspected.”

Who is he? Who are they working for?

“He wants to know the gender, he wants to send a little gift to Antonio.”

I squirm in my chair at the sound of my husband’s name. I let out of muffled groan through the duct tape over my mouth. A wordless plea to let me go and leave my family alone.

“A girl,” the doctor says emotionless as he wraps up the procedure and the kidnapper wipes down my stomach and yanks my nightgown down. The doctors nods farewell to my kidnapper and leaves through the only entrance and exit without as much as blinking an eye at what he’s done.

The doctor was the man who always gave my lollipops when he came to the house frequently to patch my father or brother or anyone of his men up.

True loyalty lies with the Capo and the Famiglia. Never cross the Capo, orders are to be followed-always, my father always used to say.

Before I can make my own educated guess about who has kidnapped me, my father appears in the doorway.

“Hello,” his lips curl into a sickening smile. “I come bearing gifts,” he holds up a pair of baby booties that are pink. “I’m going to send them to your husband along with the pinky finger. I’m sure he’ll be glad to know the sex of his child. It’ll be a good convincer to make him step down.”

Step down?

“I knew your husband was weak. I knew he was weak since before you two were engaged. You see, I was the one who killed Lorenzo Moretti,” my eyes widen, “Well not me personally, I was in New York at the time. I paid off the Bratva to kill Lorenzo and the Moretti brothers. Rocco and Luca weren’t were they were supposed to be and unfortunate survived. The Outfit was already weak under Lorenzo’s command and now that Antonio was running the show it was a disaster. So, like any decent human being I offered him help, offered to send my soldiers-but, he had to marry my daughter.

“I always knew Antonio was weak, he loved his mother and once a man is capable of love, he’s likely to love again and it happened. I wasn’t sure if he was going to love you so I had to have a backup of course, so I lied and told him you were on birth control. I figured if he didn’t at least love you he would love his child. Now I have his ultimate weakness standing in front of me, the love of his life pregnant with his daughter.

“My son deserves to run the Outfit, not Antonio. With this message to your husband he’ll do anything to get you back-including giving up his position of Capo. Even if he doesn’t, he’ll still do everything in his power to get you back and that’s where his downfall will be. He’ll figure out where you are eventually and we will be ready and that’s when we will kill him.

“Luca will take over the Outfit and I’ll of course kill Rocco that way he doesn’t put his big boy pants on and claim his spot as Capo next. Luca is fit to be Capo and he would have made a great one here in New York, but I’m not ready to give up my spot. No, I’m still young and I know Luca was getting impatient so we compromised. I’d give him the Outfit if he’d leave me alone to tend to my city here. I guess you’ve been wondering where your mother is, she’s dead. Angelo figured it out and I couldn’t have him telling you. I meant to kill him but things didn’t go as planned again but it’s a happy accident he’s suffering from anemia.

“Anyways, your mother is dead and I have taken myself a new young fertile bride. She’s pregnant, you’re both due around the same time I presume. She’s having my son. I’ll raise him to be just like Luca, Angelo was such a mistake he got too much of his mother’s influence and feelings. My unborn son will be Capo of New York when I die.

“Oh, I guess you’re wondering your part in this. I guess after Antonio is dead, we have no need for you. I have no need for you. Don’t worry though, I’ll make it quick.”

My head is spinning with uncertainty, sadness and betrayal. This whole time it was part of some elaborate plan to kill of the Moretti’s and have a new reign in Chicago. My father wants to rule both the Outfit and New York. He wants the Ricci name to take over.

He killed my mother, tried killing Angelo and now he’s going to kill me and my daughter all for power. To him family means nothing, the same goes for Luca. My father is a ruthless-if there’s any time to start cursing it would be now-a ruthless bastard!

I want to scream it in his face, I want to cry out of unfairness and want to kill him with every fiber in my being. I’m scared of death and have no intention of dying at nineteen. I want to live, I want to live with Antonio in Chicago and raise our daughter to be happy and full of life.

***

Crying left me exhausted and I don’t know how, but I took a nap. For how long, I’m not sure. I’m groggy and it almost makes me think they used the chloroform again. That or knocked me unconscious.

Come to think of it I can’t remember falling asleep or much of anything before that. All I can recall is my father explaining his plans. Giving me the right the know why he is killing me, why I am here.

I feel like a pig waiting for the slaughter.

I lick my dry lips feeling dehydrated and that’s when I notice there is no longer tape over my mouth. My first instinct is to scream, “Help!” I shout.

Within seconds my father enters the cell. You’d think a smile would feel welcoming, but a smile on my father’s face means nothing but trouble.

“Good morning, sunshine. You’ve been sleeping for a while.”

“Why?” I croak out. “Why do this? You already have power and money.”

“Luca has been planning my death for a year, I figured giving him the Outfit would shut him up. Besides I can’t stand the Moretti’s-doing business with them has always been a pain in my ass. They make the Famiglia look weak. The Outfit needs a Ricci man and Luca is perfect for the job.”

“You don’t have to kill me, you don’t even have to kill Antonio. Just let us go and we will leave. We won’t bother you.”

“As much as I’d like to believe that seeing as Antonio is weak enough to do anything to save your life, including running away from the Famiglia, he wouldn’t. Antonio is may be weak when it comes to you but he is still a killer who likes to kill. With your brother and I as threats still alive he’d find a way to come back and kill us. It’s safer to eliminate both of the threats.”

Both of the threats meaning Antonio and I.

“Why tell me all this?” Tears spill down my cheeks and I hate that I’m crying. I hate that he is a monster that enjoys watching his daughter suffer. Fathers are supposed to protect their children and wipe away tears, but my father thrives off our pain-especially mine.

“I’m telling you this as my final lesson to you. You see loving in a world like ours gets you killed. You can’t be soft and you have always been soft and trying to be a modern day woman with your free-will. Successful mafia women lay on their backs and get fucked by their husbands whenever they want. That is the woman you should have been. The moment you got upset about your engagement to Antonio you showed weakness. You showed me you couldn’t handle be subordinate or submissive. You’re too emotional like your mother always was and it’s going to get you killed,” he pauses, “let me rephrase, it is getting you killed.”

All my life he’s taught us not to be weak, not to love or cry and now those two emotions is how I am feeling in the end. I’m feeling love for Antonio and my daughter but crying for the loss of life I’m about to experience.

I always knew I wasn’t cut out for this life, I wanted what other girls had and that was the freedom to just be. I wanted to have boyfriends and explore my sexuality with them. I wanted to go to college and pick out a career and life and make something of myself. I wanted to marry out of love and have children because I was ready, not because an heir was needed.

Maybe in the end this is for the best, I was never cut out for this life but maybe in the next life my purpose will be found and I can be whoever and whatever my soul dictates.

I’m ready.

Three loud, but short, bangs echo inside the compound just outside the door. My father pulls out his pistol and aims it toward the door. He curses under his breath and looks over his shoulder at me.

In one swift moment he is in front of the door and the next he is by my side with the pistol pointed against my head.

I lied, I’m not ready. I don’t want to go.

The door is forced open after several attempts of knocking it open with some object. My heart skips a beat when I see Antonio standing there with blood sprayed all over his clothes and face.

“Let her go,” Antonio’s own gun is aimed at him.

“I told you, Antonio, a Capo cannot have weakness because eventually it will get him killed.”

“Then kill me but let her go.”

My father tsks, “Oh Antonio, I’m going to kill you, don’t you worry but you must see my dilemma,” he pushes the gun against my temple. “What am I going to do about her? Not to mention I surely don’t want to have a grandchild who will grow up seeking revenge for killing her father.”

“Liliana didn’t do anything, if you let her go, she’ll disappear. You won’t see her again and she won’t bother you,” Antonio tries to negotiate.

“You should have died with your father. You aren’t fit to be Capo. A true Capo wouldn’t try to save his wife by giving up money or power. A Capo would let his enemies put a bullet in his wife’s skull while he keeps his power and territory. Famiglia first. You seem all too willing to give it up just to save a piece of pussy.”

“And who exactly is going to take my place? You?” Antonio laughs. “You kill me and Rocco will take over. He’s stronger than you give him credit for.”

“The only person worthy of taking over the Outfit is Luca.”

A cruel smile I have never seen on Antonio emerges. “Unless he can run the Outfit from the grave your plan has a few holes in it.”

My father growls and I feel pressure against my head. I squeeze my eye shut and hear the gun go off. My ears are ringing and I’m too afraid to open my eyes. Maybe I’m dead?

When I look up Antonio is staring wide eyed at me. His chest has a growing red dot-blood is forming on his white shirt. He was shot.

“You fucking idiot! You ruined everything! I’m going to kill you. I’m going to fucking kill you and I’m going to spare your wife and child and force them to live out the rest of their days miserably!” My father strides toward Antonio and pushes him against the white tile. “Years of planning and you ruined it!”

I close my eyes once more not wanting to see my father murder Antonio. I can’t bear to see the light leave my husband’s eyes.

Bang. Another gun goes off and I let out a sob. It’s over. Antonio is dead. My heart splits into a million pieces and I curse the world for being so cruel. I don’t want to live if living is without Antonio.

“Liliana,” a strange voice calls my name.

I slowly open my eyes to see Rocco with a pistol in his hand and my father’s body lifeless on the concrete floor.

Rocco pulls out his picked knife and cuts me free. I must be in shock again because I want to yell at him to help Antonio instead of me, but nothing comes out.

When I’m free I quickly stand only to fall directly to the floor hard on my knees. I crawl over to Antonio and press my hand against his chest wound. He’s still alive, but his breathing is shallow and face pale. His eyes are open half-lidded and he looks like he desperately wants to close them, but I can tell he’s fighting. Fighting for his life.

“Stay with me,” I whisper to him. “You’re going to be a father, Antonio, our daughter needs you. I need you. Please, you can’t go.” I beg.

He reaches up and cups my face and stares directly into my eyes. “I love you,” his voice is strained. He coughs and blood comes up and I know that’s a bad sign.

“No! No, you can’t leave me!” I kiss his colorless lips. “Please!”

“Let me,” a hand touches my shoulder. I look behind me to see my father’s personal doctor, the same one who had previously given me a sonogram in this hellhole.

He kneels over Antonio’s body and sets his bag down scrimmaging through for who knows what. “I’m going to need some privacy. I can’t have a crying wife here.”

“Come on,” Rocco says softly helping me up.

“No! I don’t want to leave him!” I cry.

The doctor gives Rocco an annoyed look and my brother-in-law impatiently scoops me into his arms and carries me out. That is when I see the slaughter, Antonio must have fought his way past my father’s men as well as members of the Bratva.

“Is he going to be okay?” I plant my face into Rocco’s chest getting his shirt wet with tears and snot.

“Everything will be okay. You need to calm down, the stress isn’t good for the baby. Are you hurt? Do you need a doctor?”

I shake my head but hold out of my hand. Four fingers. “I don’t know if it’ll get infected-”

“It will, but it’s an easy fix. You won’t need to go to the hospital.”

I notice Rocco is walking out of the warehouse with me still in his arms. I thought he was just taking me out of the room. “Where are we going? I want to be close to Antonio in case something happens.”

Rocco shakes his head. “It’s not safe here, some of your father’s loyalists are lingering as well as the Bratva on your father’s payroll. Arabella is waiting in the car, you two are heading back to Chicago.”

“I don’t want to go back to Chicago!” I shout. “I want to stay here with Antonio!”

“I can’t in good conscience leave you hear. I’m under strict orders to get you out. I will call if there are any changes to Antonio’s status,” Rocco ends the conversation and approaches the black SUV waiting outside the compound. Carmelo is guarding the car and waiting for me with a grim smile. Rocco sets me down and opens the door to revel Arabella’s swollen, wet-slicked face.

“Are you okay? I’ve been so worried!” She climbs out and holds me tight while crying.

“Antonio is hurt.”

“It isn’t safe here, we need to leave,” Carmelo interrupts.

Arabella pulls me into the backseat and I look over at Rocco who says, “I’ll take good care of him.” He shuts the door and once Carmelo is in the car takes off.

***

Arabella tells me all about what happened while I was missing. She tells me how Antonio tortured Luca in their penthouse kitchen and how she could hear the screams. She is also the one who called for Rocco under Antonio’s orders.

The entire flight my mind is wandering. I want to listen to her but I can when I’m thinking of Antonio and the possibility that he could be dead. I didn’t want to think of it, but it was all my brain would allow. My stomach feels sick at the thought of him not being here anymore and my heart hurts so bad that the pain is nearly physical.

Tears prick my eyes. Being on a plane is the worst in a situation like this, Rocco said he would call if anything changed with Antonio but I won’t get any call because the phone Arabella has on her is forced to be on Airplane mode. Not to mention there is no service up in the air.

The flight from New York to Chicago felt like ten hours instead of the three hours it was. Being on the ground though feels much better. I grab Arabella’s phone and check to see if there are any messages-nothing. I decide to call Rocco myself but the line keeps ringing without any answer.

That’s got to be good news, right? Isn’t that what they say? No news is good news?

I have to stay optimistic because if I don’t, I’m liable to lose my entire mind.

Carmelo takes us back to the penthouse and I’ve never been so happy to be home. The happiness is short-lived when I begin to think that Antonio may never come home.

“I’ve missed Chicago,” Arabella inhales deeply and lets her body fall onto the couch. “If my family tries to marry me off to a guy in New York again I’m going to tell said-guy that I have the worst STD possible and an infertile.” Carmelo raises his eyebrow. “I’m kidding of course.” Even though I know she’s only half kidding.

“Are you okay?” Carmelo asks gently. “You should take a shower and get yourself cleaned up. You’ll feel better.”

I glance down at my phone and Carmelo takes it from me. “I’ll keep it on me while you shower. If a call comes through, I’ll get you right away. I promise.”

“Thank you,” I give him a weak smile.

I wander through the house like a lost ghost not really sure what to do. I’m going through the motions of walk-in down to the hall, entering the bedroom then bathroom and turning on the shower, but I don’t feel all there. The warm water is much too hot but I get in anyways and let myself feel the twinge of pain.

My soul feels like it is floating out of my body, like its looking for something-someone-who is isn’t here. I feel lonely and uncertain and it scares me.

I sit on the floor of the tub and let the water consume me. My body feels too weak to do anything but stay in the catatonic state I seem to be in. I want to cry but the heaviness of my eyes and exhaustion tell me I don’t have the energy.

When Arabella enters the bathroom I am both scared and relieved. Relieved it is not Carmelo with possible bad news, but scared that Carmelo told her bad news to tell me.

“You’ve been in here a while. Liliana? Are you okay?”

I don’t answer. I want to, but I can’t.

The door opens and Arabella frowns when she sees me frozen staring at the tile of the shower wall. She turns off the water and grabs one of the white cotton towels from the bathroom closet. She helps me stand and wraps my body in the soft towel drying me down.

Arabella sits me on the edge of my bed while she pulls out some clothes for me to wear, a large sweatshirt along with sweatpants. She helps me into them when she sees I make no move to put any clothes on. Then, she helps me into bed and pulls the covers over my body.

“I’ll be right back. I’m going to get you food and then I’ll grab the laptop and we can watch M*A*S*H on Hulu until we fall asleep. I’ll sleep in here tonight so you won’t feel so lonely. Carmelo can sleep in the chair too, if you’d like.”

I wanted to say that it sounds perfect but my voice and will to talk once again fails me.

Thank God Arabella understands me because she brings me food, puts on my favorite show and lays with me in bed while Carmelo sits in Antonio’s favorite chair. For the first time since I came home, I realized that I could be okay if worst comes to worst. I could try and learn to live again if it meant I had people like Arabella and Carmelo at my side. I have a daughter to think of now too, Antonio would want me to care for her in the best way possible. I could raise her away from this life.

I wrap my arms around Arabella and we hold each other close. My eyelids feel heavy once more and the last thing I see before shutting them for good a shot of B. J. on the screen and with that I fall asleep.

***

When I wake up the first thing I do is ask Carmelo if he received any phone calls last night from Rocco or even Antonio. Carmelo shakes his head sadly.

I grab the phone away from him and dial Rocco’s number only to get no answer. That can’t be good. It’s been almost an entire day, why hasn’t he gotten in touch with me yet?

“They’re busy,” Arabella says from behind me and pulls me out of my thoughts. “New York is in shambles now that Marco and Luca are dead. Antonio is probably recovering right now and Rocco is taking care of things and probably explaining to them that Angelo is their new Capo.”

Realization hits. Angelo would be Capo. “They… they won’t accept him. My father and brother have spent many years ridiculing Angelo in the Famiglia. They all find him weak because that’s what they’ve told everyone.”

“Well, I’m sure Rocco is working everything out. I know it’s hard not to worry, but Antonio is stronger than a bullet. He’ll come out of this,” she rubs my back in circles.