Owned: A Mafia Menage Romance (14 page)

She opens her lips again to say something, and I hold up two fingers and step closer to her. She smells good actually. Really good. Fruity or something. And the way that her eyes flash at me makes me want to jerk her chain a little bit more. Feisty, like Alek said.

“I'm not kidding, Marie. I don’t want to hear another word out of you. You got that?”

She starts to twist away and then just slumps and nods her head. That's a good girl. At least her father taught her one thing.

I take her hand in mine, and it's so small it fits neatly inside my palm. It's like holding a doll’s hand. We walk into the cigar club and straight back past the counter to where that smoke smell is coming from. I open the door and it swings inward. Stosh and Don Lauro each jerk back with surprise.

“Don't you knock?” Stosh growls.

“Marie!” the Don exclaims, leaping to his feet. He rushes forward with his arms out and takes her in a bearhug before dropping her and looking her up and down. “What did you do? Where did you go? Can you believe how worried I was? Why didn't you take somebody with you?”

Marie's mouth opens and closes as she stares at her father in disbelief.

“She was running away, Don Lauro,” I explain to him slowly, watching him for signs of deception. Strangely, he seems to really have no game on. Did he think she went out shopping?

He shakes his head. “No, no. That's impossible,” he mutters. He squints at her as if trying to confirm what I just said.

“Believe it,” I say. “And if she wants to be rid of me so badly, I think I should let her go.”

Stosh stands up out of his chair, pointing at me with his cigar. “It is not for you to decide, Roman.”

But Don Lauro takes a different tone. He holds his hands up reasonably. “Roman, Roman. Surely this is a misunderstanding. Tell him, Marie. Explain this. You weren't running away…”

Her eyelashes flutter as she looks up at her father, his expression plain and beseeching. “Daddy…”

“Please, Marie," he says in a soft voice.

Her mouth opens and closes several times but no words come out. Finally she just closes her eyes and shakes her head.

“Go home,” I tell her.

She glares at me, those caramel brown eyes flashing out a warning that makes me want to laugh.

“I don't —”

“Go. Home.”

Her father releases her shoulders and she stumbles a little bit where she stands. She looks at each of the men in the room and then shakes her head in frustration.

“I need my things!” she huffs irritably.

I depress the unlock button on the Jeep by holding the key fob out to my side. “There. Doors are open. You’ve got thirty seconds to get your crap and go home.”

She stares at me in astonishment and then pivots on her heel and storms out of the room. Stosh hides a chuckle behind his hand but Don Lauro doesn't seem quite as amused.

“I'm sure you’re mistaken,” Don Lauro explains. “I only contacted you because Nuncio said…”

“Nuncio is a fool,” I inform him. “If Nuncio was on the job, she would never have gotten out of the house. Where was the guard out front?”

“She's not a prisoner, Roman. Why don’t you try treating her with a little bit more —”

“— that's
my
business now,” I explain. “She's going to have to get used to a new way of doing things, the sooner the better. I don't take kindly to this sort of disrespect. And I don’t know what kind of manners she was brought up with…”

“That's enough!” Stosh bellows. "You talk about respect… I think you should show Don Lauro a little bit more respect, Roman. We’re in his business now. I don't expect you to be talking to him in this manner!”

I grind my teeth together. Perhaps I was pushing my test a little bit too far. “Forgive me, Don Lauro,” I say in a softer tone. “Maybe the events of this morning have me a little bit more rattled than I care to admit.”

The Don nods thoughtfully, his posture softening somewhat. “That is understandable, Roman, completely understandable. I am also anxious about this morning.”

I watch his back, his hands. Though the Don really doesn’t appear to be hiding anything, none of this really makes any sense. He’s asking the right questions, showing the right signs. It really does look like he had no clue what she was up to. But just in case, I need to press him a little bit farther.

“Marie said those were your men?” I ask carefully. I feel Stosh clenching, preparing to say something to respond to my implicit accusation. But I have to know.

The Don's eyes flash toward me. “What men?”

I breathe deeply, letting my intuition guide me. Just let the situation unfold, see what’s here to be seen. The Don's eyes flicker between me and Stosh, and Stosh freezes in his seat, his hand pressing hard on the gleaming wooden table top.

“I said,
which men
?” Don Lauro repeats angrily. “I was under the impression you were simply going to locate her?”

“I was,” I confirm. I keep my voice low so that I can hear the small changes in their breath, the small subtle signs that they are giving me though they don't even know it. “But when I found her, it seems someone else was looking for her as well. They found her first.”

"What you mean?” Stosh asks with his eyes narrowed. “Who?”

I shrug. “I didn’t get a chance to ask their names.”

“That's impossible,” Don Lauro says.

“
Not
 impossible,” I reply. “And not unexpected either. She seemed to think that you sent them, Don Lauro. That it was a common enough event that she simply
allowed
them to take her.”

“Don Lauro?” Stosh says slowly. “Why would
you
send them? Has this happened before?”

The Don opens his palms and shifts uneasily from side to side. “She's a spirited girl. A spirited girl I like to keep an eye on. But I only called you, Roman— ”

“You keep an eye on her with guards at all times?”

The Don's eyes flash toward me. “It's for the best. She needs to be safe. I would've thought that with you, Roman, she would be safest of all.”

“She will be, Don Lauro. I'm not really sure what's going on here yet, but I intend to find out.”

“Gentlemen, gentlemen,” Stosh says, holding his hands in the air like he's conducting an orchestra. “There’s no need for things to get this heated. We have a simple solution. Don Lauro, if I may be so bold…”

“You may,” Don Lauro growls.

Stosh shrugs. He looks at me for a moment as though asking for my approval and I nod, though I'm not entirely sure what he plans on doing.

“Roman, I think it's time that this marriage got underway,” Stosh says reasonably. “Marie would be safest under your care, while Don Lauro and I look into this alleged attack.”

“It's not an
alleged
attack,” I correct him. “Three guys, one SUV. They knew where she was and where she was going. If Don Lauro didn't do it, then who did?”

“How dare you!” Don Lauro roars. He expects me to be frightened, but I'm not. How can I be frightened of someone so bloated, so swollen with his own pride?

“Roman, please…”

“I've already agreed,” I remind him.

Stosh appeals to the Don. “You see? Everything is taken care of. Set the event for this weekend.”

“This weekend?” I repeat incredulously.

But the Don is nodding. He pinches his lips together and stares at the floor. “This weekend, then. Yes, but Roman…”

I cross my arms and face him. Such a strange combination in this man. Part peacock, part worm. Look how he falls apart over his little girl.

“Roman you must swear to me. Swear to keep Marie safe.”

“I already did.”

He shakes his head. “It's not enough. Say the words.”

Stosh glares at me. I open my mouth to say something but then think better of it. “I swear it, Don Lauro. She will be safest with me. She is. Safer than anywhere else.”

And that I leave them both standing there to talk about their business. As I come out of the cigar club, I scan the street for signs of Marie and automatically call Alek.

“What is it,” he says, answering on the first ring.

I swing into the driver’s seat before answering. “I’m not sure yet,” I admit.

Alek laughs. “Oh really? You’re not sure? You’re always sure.”

“Yeah well, something stinks.”

“Agreed.”

I roll the Jeep into traffic and head for our little apartment. Everything about this makes my skin crawl. This dirty city. These dirty people. That girl…

“We shouldn’t have come, Alek.”

I can hear him shrugging over the phone line, I swear.

“Roman, we didn’t have a choice.”

“No choice…” I repeat sourly. “You know who thinks they have a choice? That little girl. What is she… just a toy and yet she’s got twelve grand in her purse and the balls to try to get to Argentina or some shit—”

“ — Ha! Are you kidding me?” Alek interrupts. The smile in his voice is grating my nerves.

“No I’m not kidding. How does this little
zadrota
have more choice than we do, Alek?”

“Well, I would say she doesn’t, Roman. You just dragged her by the scruff of her neck back to her basket, right?”

I scrub my face with my palm. “Christ, she makes me so—”

“ — horny?”Alek interrupts again.

“
Angry
! I don’t want to do this… chasing some gash all over this city every time she gets her panties in a twist. I have work to do!”

“I think being a good husband is your most important work—”

“ — All right, fuck you, Alek. If you’re not going to take his seriously…”

“I am! I am!” he barks, but I can hear him grinning from ear to ear. It’s a good thing I can’t see his face right now.

“You’re laughing.”

“Well, I’m happy.”

I slam on the brakes, nearly plowing over some little old lady in an intersection. Alek is jerking my chain, and I have had just about enough of everyone today.

“Well, I am
not
happy,” I growl, raising an apologetic finger at the old lady as she hobbles to the curb. She turns around and flips me off.

This fucking city, I swear to God.

“Oh yeah you are,” Alek chuckles. “You just don’t know it yet. Look how your blood boils! You’re steaming!”

“Fuck you, Alek.”

“Nah, I’m good, brother. That’s too kinky, even for me.”

“Now there’s a shock.”

“You see?” he needles. “This is the longest conversation we may have ever had. I think we’re at two minutes, Roman. She really does something to you. You have to admit it.”

I open my mouth, but then I realize I’m just playing right into his hands. Is this the longest conversation? What the fuck does that even mean? And what does it have to do with Marie?

“Aw come on, Roman, don’t clam up now!”

“I gotta go.”

“Naw!” he moans. “Let’s talk! Let’s delve into our feelings!”

“You know what, Alek, why don’t you do something useful, instead?” I sigh as I’m coming up on the garment district. Now I’m just driving in circles, going nowhere.

“Anything, brother.”

“Why don’t you get us a couple of suits. Nice ones.”

He pauses for a second. Finally some peace and quiet. “Suits?”

“Yeah,” I snarl. “Looks like we’re getting married this weekend.”

MARIE

Gianna’s eyes go all wet and puppy-like when she looks at me. She claps her hands underneath her chin.

“Oh, Marie, just look at you!"

“Stop it, Gianna. There's nothing to cheer about.”

I stare into the three-way mirror and the avalanche of white silk. She peeks over my shoulder and gnaws at her bottom lip.

“You look beautiful!” she breathes in my ear.

“You want this dress?” I sneer. “You can have it, Gianna. It would look better on you anyway.”

“No, oh my God, no. It's perfect for you, Marie. So perfect.”

Despite everything, I can almost see what she's saying. This is just the kind of dress I always dreamed about. Form fitting through the bodice and over the hips and then flaring in an explosion of peony petals at the knee. A perfect mermaid style. Lacy sleeves down to the elbows. One trillion tiny crystals and pearls.

I tug the veil over my face again, trying to hide my frown. Every time she sees my expression, Gianna gives me a poke.

“Oh, I wish you would just
look
at yourself,” she sighs. “It's like you're not even trying!”

I back away from the mirror and turn in a slow circle so the dress doesn't trip me under these stupid satin heels. Carefully I lower my bottom onto the upholstered bench at the end of my bed.

“Exactly what am I supposed to be happy about, Gianna? There's nothing good about this day. Nothing at all!”