Sold to the Mafia Boss

CHAPTER FIVE

And I was right.

After thirty minutes of me clutching the handle on top of me for dear life, we finally turned a sharp right into one of the openings there. It was a narrow road flanked by all kinds of trees and shrubs.

I looked around us, my eyebrows stitching together. “Are you sure we’re in the right place?” Lorenzo had slowed the pace of the car down that I was able to open the window on my side.

There’s nothing here but trees.

“Why are we in a forest?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he pointed ahead of us. “We’re home.”

In front of us was a massive wrought-iron gate flanked by two armed guards. Upon confirming the plate, they radioed us in and Lorenzo started speeding up again.

I rolled the windows back up to avoid getting sucked out of the car. It wasn’t long before I finally started seeing something.

Lorenzo Morelli’s ‘house’ was a sprawling estate that had made the mansion I grew up in look like a complete joke. Rolling rows of grapevines stretched outward in every direction, neatly shimmering under the California sun. A long driveway carved through the vineyard in a perfect, sweeping arc, the slate-gray gravel crunching under the tires as we approached.

I couldn’t wait to get out of the car as soon as it ground to a halt.

The Morelli Estate looks like the kind of place dynasties are born into.

The mansion dominates the landscape—an enormous, perfectly symmetrical palatial residence that feels half-Italian villa, half-European royal chateau. The façade is built in creamy stone with tall columns rising through the center, supporting a grand portico. Long rows of arched windows stretch across both wings, each one lit from within, making the entire structure look alive and watching.

I was awestruck with it all. I’ve seen all kinds of wealth in my life. But compared a palace like this, our mansion was anything but grand.

“I take it you like the place?”

“Like it?” I turned to Lorenzo. “I love it. How the hell have I not been to Santa Barbara before?”

We went up the sweeping staircase that curved upward to the entrance of the mansion. Even the air in here felt different, much more regal and heavy with power.

It made me think, though. How many people have died in here?

“Are you picturing me killing people in here?” Lorenzo’s voice cut through my thoughts again and I looked at him suspiciously.

“How are you reading my mind?”

He chuckled, leading me inside.

If the outside of the mansion was grand, the inside was even more impressive. Tiers of crystal chandeliers, gilded edges, and marble statues—I looked like I just walked into a 17th century palazzo.

I wonder if he killed the original owner of this house.

“My great-great-grandfather immigrated here from Italy in the early 1900s. He brought with him his entire family, including my great grandfather who was born just two years before the first world war.”

Lorenzo turned left into a drawing room and pointed at a portrait on the wall. It was a man who looked extremely similar to him, you’d think it was just him cosplaying Peaky Blinders.

“He had a family to feed and a war to watch out for. It was a good thing that he got out when he did. The rest of our family who were left barely had anything left after the war.”

I raised a finger up and smiled. “Why are you giving me a history lesson about your family?”

He opened his mouth to answer but someone else did before he could.

“Because you’ll be a part of ours whether you like it or not.”

I whirled around to face the woman walking toward us. She had long pin straight hair and the face of a standard Vogue model. If she just wasn’t lugging around with her a sniper rifle and a leather jacket, I’d think she’s some kind of celebrity.

“I’m Henrietta,” she introduced and gave me her hand to which I immediately accepted just in case she’d shoot me if I didn’t. “I’m Lorenzo’s cousin.”

“Ah,” I said rather dumbly, shooting her gun a nervous look. “I’m—”

“Adrienne. We know.”

“We?”

She nodded. “We’re Italians. We may have lived here all our lives but we’re still big on family. Naturally, by now, everyone would know who you are.”

I turned to Lorenzo with a questioning look but he gazed at the portrait again, no doubt wanting to continue the history lesson that was interrupted.

“As I was saying,” he continued, “when my family first arrived, we barely had anything to our name. We had no properties, no jobs, and no money. But we had talent.”

“In shooting people?”

“In making guns.” He glanced to a glass-encased pistol on one side of the room, the metal label in it indicating the year it was made. “Before the war, no one showed my great-great-grandfather any interest so he had to abandon his passion to work for the stables. And then a war broke out and everyone was eager to buy from him. He was fast, efficient, and best of all, his services were cheap. That’s why many people bought from him. Same thing happened to my great grandfather with the second world war.”

“And that’s how you got this mansion?”

“My great grandfather had this built. While the rest of the world slowly crumbled because of the war, my family was safely tucked in here—in the mansion he built for us. It’s a fortress.”

“Were you assuming I was judging you?” I asked and he turned to face me, his face void of any emotions.

“I can read you like a book, Adrienne. I know you were judging me.”

I pursed my lips again looked down, tapping my shoes on the thick carpeted floor. “Sorry,” I said quietly and what he did next caught me off guard.

He kissed the top of my head and whispered, “It’s okay.”

I looked up at him but he was already making his way out of the room. I followed him swiftly. “So, you aren’t a crime family after all? You just make firearms?”

“No, we are a crime family,” he answered without even so much as a glance. “But we aren’t all bad.”

“So, what made you bad?”

He stopped in his tracks and I collided against his back, sending me staggering.

Hell, what is his back made out of? Steel?

“You expect me to believe that your family wasn’t at all bad, too?” He turned to me, his expression a bit different than what I was used to. He looks… menacing.

I straightened and fixed my shirt. “My family made their first fortune by opening a jewelry store. They were good at it so they managed to open a few more. Until we had it expanded into other industries.”

“Oh, like what? Mining? The same mining company that collapsed and buried seventeen miners alive?” He took several steps closer to me. “Didn’t your grandfather bury that story, too? I heard he paid people to shut up about it. He even reopened the site and had other miners risk the chance of being buried again.”

I gulped. “What are you implying? Are you saying that my family is as bad as yours?”

“I’m just saying that you wouldn’t be as rich as you are if they were really as good as you made them out to be.”

I could feel my heart pounding so hard in my chest that it’s almost echoing in my ears. What the hell is this man playing at? One time he’s all teasing and laughter, then he’s mean and scary the next.

If he’s going to pick a personality, he should at least pick just one. He’s f*****g confusing.

“Go to your room. I don’t want to see you until dinner.”

He walked off and left me in the hallway, the sound of his steps bouncing off the walls as he disappeared. I was shaking with rage at him. How could he bring that up? It’s not like I could’ve done anything. I wasn’t even born yet when that happened.

“Miss?” an old woman called out to me, and I shook my head, refusing to let his words get to me. “I’ll take you to your room so you can take some rest before dinner.”

I nodded at this, following her around the confusing halls of the mansion.

The room that greeted me was breathtaking. But I guess I was too pissed to even appreciate all of it that I headed straight for the bathroom and drew myself a bath. As the water poured into the tub, I stared at my reflection on the water blankly.

Was he right?

“No!” I yelled.

He’s not right. It was an accident. Unlike his family, we don’t torture people or shoot them for fun. Besides, if it really was all just blood money then I’ve got nothing to worry about. It’s all gone anyway.

I spent the next hour in that bathtub trying to drown all of my pissed off energy away. I was about to fall asleep when my phone started ringing.

I sighed and pushed myself up, struggling to reach for my pants that I had tossed on the floor. “Hello?” I said once I managed to hit the call button.

“Addie!” It was Darlene.

A smile immediately split my face. “Darlene!”

“How are you? Are you okay? Did you arrive just fine? How was the flight? How was… how was he?” There was a moment’s silence before she continued. “Did he hurt you?”

My smile faded a bit but it was still there nonetheless. I’m just happy to hear a familiar voice. “He didn’t. He’s just a bit annoying but… he’s fine.” For now.

We haven’t even been in here for a full minute and he’s already lashed out at me. What more if we actually got married? I’m not going to be some kind of battered wife to a Casanova prick!

“I’m glad that he didn’t do anything to you. But Addie, tell me if he does, okay? I’ll drop everything and come get you right away. Memorize my number just in case he takes your phone.”

I chuckled at the concern in her voice. She’s always been so paranoid. Even when I was still a kid she was always like this.

“Take care of dad while I’m here, alright? Don’t let that witch hurt him.”

“I’ll guard him with my life.”

“He’s fine, right? I mean… earlier…”

“He’s fine.” I sighed in relief when she said that. “He just cried for a bit but he’s fine. He fell asleep instantly after.”

“That’s good to hear. I’m just in the bath tub right now. I just had a long flight and my entire body is aching.”

The word ‘aching’ clicked her into protective mode and she started listing out a bunch of things I should do to get rid of the pain. From muscle patches to weird teas, she’s had it all listed down for me.

I laughed at her rampage as I sunk back down into my bath, letting the bubbles envelop me.