Married to the mafia boss Series

Anastasia

Ever since I can remember men three times my size were scared of my father. I’ve seen grown men, Bratva members, cold-blooded killers, cry at my fathers cruelness. I had never seen a man more intimidating than my father.

Not until meeting the man sitting across from me at Angelo’s dining room table. His cold gaze makes me shiver and I stare down at my plate hoping to avoid him until Angelo and his sister return.

My palms sweat, nervous that Antonio can see through my disguise. Unlikely, but my anxiety gets the better of me. My father has worked hard to hide me from his enemies and even his own men. I have always been nonexistent to the Mafia, too.

I exhale in relief when I see Angelo taking his seat next to me. Our eyes meet and he looks concerned. “Are you okay? You didn’t touch your food.”

“I guess I just lost my appetite.”

“You look pale, are you okay?” He asks again.

I can feel his sister and her husband’s eyes on me. I wanted nothing more than to excuse myself. It wasn’t that they are intimidating and I’m scared. It’s that I have always hated the language barrier between people who could hear and me. I’m not gifted like Angelo, I can’t read lips. I sit there, fading into the background. No one cares to fill in the deaf girl with the conversation that’s going on.

That’s why I feel like I’ve somehow bonded to Angelo. An unspoken connection between us. For the first time I’ve finally had someone to talk to. Someone who understands me.

After we all ate, Liliana was tired and decided to retire to her room. Antonio followed after her leaving Angelo and I to the living area by ourselves.

If he wouldn’t have been so stubborn he’d still be in the hospital right now. Angelo still looks pale and tired from loss of blood. His movements are slow and careful, too.

“Why didn’t you go with your father?” He asks again. “You could have been home and heavily secured right now instead of enduring a painful awkward dinner with my sister and her husband. Sorry for that by the way.”

My heart does a flip in my chest. I’m painfully aware of how close we are sitting next to each other. I can still feel the tingling sensation of how his lips felt on my forehead and the electric feel that ran through my body when he grabbed my hand.

“You answered your own questions,” I state simply. Angelo cocks his eyebrow and tilts his head not understanding. “You’re right. If I would’ve ran back to my father he would never leave me out of his sight. I’d be so heavily protected I would never have any freedom.”

Angelo looks away from me for a moment. His jaw ticks. “You have no freedom here either.”

“That’s where your wrong,” I give him a small smile before admitting. “I didn’t run back to my father because even though you kidnapped me, I am more free with you than I ever would be with him. When I’m with you I feel free. I feel like I can be myself. Even though you are the enemy, I’m not scared and I know you won’t hurt me.”

“And how do you know that?” Angelo puts on his Don face and I frown not understanding why he’s attempting to play the bad guy. He’s not the villain in this story.

“Because if you wanted to hurt me, you would have done so already.”Content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

His stare is burning. I get lost in his deep blue eyes and as our faces inch closer I pull away.

Angelo looks embarrassed, hurt almost. “I am Boston’s Mafia Don. The Mafia comes first. I will hurt you, that’s inevitable.”I stand up. “My father is never going to give you his territory. If he doesn’t think I’m in real danger, he’s going to call your bluff.”

“What do you suggest I do, torture you?” The cold look on his face makes me feel like we’re rebuilding so many walls that we’ve been slowly taking down.

“I should hate you, but there’s a connection. I know you feel it, too. It’s a connection I can’t explain, but it’s a mutual understanding between each other that no one has given either of us before. We live in a silent, misunderstood world. Others don’t understand that, but you and me, we’re from that world,” I don’t wait for him to answer back. “Goodnight, Angelo.”

I head upstairs to his bedroom and he doesn’t follow.