Why does the Mafia want me so bad?

2: Sleep with me

I woke up in the same spot, my head spinning. I grabbed my phone and I called a driver from the mansion. He showed up fast and took me to the hospital. I spent one night in the hospital, and I was out the next morning.

When I got to the mansion, Carlos was outside, smoking like always. Either he was smoking or drinking—it was his thing. I tried to walk past him, to ignore him, but he wasn’t about to let that happen.

“Where’ve you been?” he snapped, glaring. “And what’s with the way you look?”

I ignored him, kept walking. That didn’t stop him. He got up, walking toward me, he was angry.

“Esmeralda! You’ve been ignoring my calls. Where were you?”

I glanced at my phone—ten missed calls from him. Weird. He never calls.

“What’s your deal?” I asked, trying to stay calm. “Just because I didn’t spend one night here? Did you spend a night here yourself?”

He frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

I lost it. “It means you left me last night after talking about our divorce to go meet Giulia! Why should I care what you think?”

He got angry instantly. “Don’t bring up the divorce again,” he growled.

“Why not? Giulia’s back. Go ahead, divorce me and be with her,” I shot back.

Carlos stepped closer—too close that I could smell the alcohol reeking off him. “Read my lips. I’m not divorcing you.”

That was it—I lost my cool and I slapped him, my hand paining me from Carlos's cheeks and my heart was pounding. He didn’t flinch. Instead, he grabbed me by the neck, choking me. I gasped, clawing at his hands, but his grip tightened.

“Don’t you dare do that again,” he hissed.

Just then, the door swung open. My mother froze in the doorway. Carlos let go of me angrily, storming upstairs without a word.

I collapsed on the floor, sucking in air. My mother didn’t move, didn’t help. She just stood there, afraid.

Finally, she spoke, her voice low. “Why did you provoke The Don?”

I laughed bitterly, shaking my head. “Why did I provoke him? You saw him choking me, and that’s what you ask? Blame me, not him. Unbelievable.”

I couldn’t believe her. Standing there, blaming me like always. I sat on the couch, trying to calm down, but she kept going.

“You know who Carlos is,” she said, “Three years married, and you still provoke him.”

Her words only provoked me. She’d never get it, never be on my side. I stood, brushed past her, and ignored her calls as I left. I was done listening.

I needed out. This house, this life—it wasn’t mine. I gave up my dream job for Carlos, only to end up here: trapped, loveless, angry. I headed to the shower, trying to wash away the mess in my head.

I dress up, I grabbed my car keys. Time to find a job, and not be a housewife. But as I reached my car, Carlos’s men blocked me.

“You’re not allowed to leave,” one of them said.

“Excuse me?” I snapped, furious. “Why?”

“Orders from The boss.”

What? Since when did I need permission? I was frustrated, I stormed back inside and went straight to his room. I knocked, but the door creaked open.

Carlos was there—completely naked.

I froze, and turn around immediately. “For God’s sake, Carlos, put some clothes on!”

He didn’t move. Instead, I heard him scoff, his footsteps getting closer. His breath brushed against my neck.

“What’s the problem?” he whispered, his tone dark. “Scared to see what you’ve been denying it's right?”

My heart raced. I stepped away, refusing to look at him. “We need to talk,” I said, voice shaking. “Put on something... pants, a towel... anything. Just... cover up."

I grabbed a hanger, pointing it at him like a shield. But he didn’t care. He moved faster than I could react, his hand wrapping around my neck.

“Talk?” he sneered, pulling me closer. “Is that what you think this is about?”

His grip tightened. I struggled to breathe, his face inches from mine. Before I could push him away, he shoved me onto the bed, pinning me down.

“What do you want, Carlos?” I gasped, panic and anger swirling inside me.

He didn’t answer, just leaned closer, his body pressing against mine. I felt trapped, suffocating under his control.

We hadn’t touched each other since that night—the night everything fell apart. Now, after all this time, he wanted something I couldn’t give. s*x.

Just then, his phone rang, saving me from him, and I didn’t wait. I shoved him off and ran out of his room, my legs shaking, I cried. I barely made it to my room before I collapsed on the bed, my chest heaving. It was too much—everything pressing down on me.

A knock at the door made me freeze. Was it Carlos? My heart pounded.

“Esmeralda.” It was Eduardo.

Before I could respond, Carlos barged in, his eyes blazing. “When were you going to tell me Orlando’s men beat you up to pulp?” he barked.

I stayed quiet. What did it matter? This was his mafia world, not mine.

He dismissed Eduardo and stepped closer, his gaze scanning me. “You’re hurt,” he said, softer but still angry.

“I already went to the hospital,” I snapped, cutting him off.

He said nothing, just stormed out.

By evening, I couldn’t stay inside. Since Carlos refused to let me out of the mansion, I decided to stroll around, I spotted them—Carlos and Giulia, sitting at a table, they were having a romantic dinner. The table decorated nicely with candles and balloon.

I froze and inhaled deeply, then marched over. My hands shook as I ripped off my wedding ring and threw it at them.

“I can’t do this anymore!” I shouted. “Divorce me and marry her, Carlos!”

Carlos stood, his face dark with rage. “Don’t act like a jealous wife. This is business Esme.”

Giulia smirked. “She wants a divorce?” she asked him, amused.

I turned and walked away, not waiting for his reply. When I got to the living room, I grabbed my phone, and typed: “I need a divorce. Carlos is seeing other women. Giulia, his ex, to be precise.”

I hit send, dropping it in the family group chat.

Immediately, my phone rang. My mom’s name flashed on my phone. I ignored it. I wasn’t in the mood. A second later, her message came through: "Delete what you sent and apologize. The Corleones are dangerous. You don’t know what you’re doing."

I tossed the phone aside. I didn’t care anymore.

Minutes later, Carlos stormed into the living room, his anger rolling off him. “You’re pathetic,” he spat. “This childish behavior has to stop.”

I met his glare. “I don’t care what you do with Giulia. I just want out. This marriage is a lie, and I’m done pretending.” My voice trembled, but I didn’t back down.

Carlos didn’t say a word. He turned and walked upstairs, as if nothing I said mattered.

Then the door creaked open again. It was Giulia now. She walked into the living room, smirking evily. “Ending your sad excuse of a marriage already?” she mocked me.

I clenched my fists, my chest tight. She was trying to rub it in, but I was past keeping quiet. “Do whatever you want, Giulia. I’m done.”

I moved to leave, but before I reached the door, she collapsed to the floor and shouted in pains. One second she was fine, the next she was screaming like she’d been hit.

Carlos ran into the living room again, his eyes scanning around and then landed on me. “What did you do to her?” he shouted, rushing to her side.

I froze, stunned. “I didn’t touch her,” I said, my voice firm. But I could see the doubt in his eyes.

Giulia played her part perfectly, clutching at Carlos and sobbing. She was good at scheming evil plans and make another look like the devil while playing the victim perfectly. I didn’t need to stay and watch her performance. I walked out, leaving them to their headless drama.

Later, Carlos barged into my room without knocking. His face was unreadable, his tone cold. “I’ll accept the divorce.” he said all of a sudden.

My heart skipped. “Are you serious or you are playing with me?” I asked because Carlos has been rejecting the divorce papers.

He stepped closer, his voice low. “There’s a condition.”

“What condition?” I asked, my heart pounding.

His eyes locked on mine. “Sleep with me. Then you’ll get your divorce.”