My Mafia Ex-Husband

Amazing view. My boys will love growing up here. I have selected the top loft in Oregon. Far from the Chicago life I once knew. Far from him. Far away from my sister. I have covered my tracks. They will never find me. I am the best at what I do. I have enough contracts from my handler to keep me busy. I used to think of what to wear. How to act. Make sure to only speak when spoke to. Act like a lady. My father encrusted into my brain. No man will want you. You never tell them about your abilities. Never show them your intelligence. Certainly, hide your IQ. Woman were to decorate and have parties. You obey your husband. Just shut up and open your legs and give him babies. Like, we still live in the 1800’s. I used to wonder if my father ever realized that woman have the right to vote. My mother died when I was ten. My father raised me to be a mafia wife. Shut up and obey. He was priming me to be married off to the Fusco family. Santino Fusco the very essence of a handsome brute of a man. Unfortunately, I married him, and he wanted me and my sister, Dahlia. She wanted his money. I wanted to be loved. He courted me as his father told him he had to, but I did not feel any love from him. I am not a looker like my sister, but then I do not wear slutty clothes and tons of make-up. I hate make-up. It just feels gross. I am fit, but I do not wear tight fitting clothes and heels. I abhorred heels. I wear runners. I love running in the morning. I have auburn colored hair, brown eyes, my body is trim. I am not skinny or slim, like my sister but I am just fine in my eyes. Not my husbands but mine. Clear my head and get into the game. I have stashed my laptop and when no one is around, I go up to the attic. The reception is stronger up there. I was able to tap into the house security and I watch things. Growing up in the family. I knew the goings-on around. I knew the body language. I knew the signs of no talking. However, in my training and profession we do the same. At sixteen, I was recruited by my cousin in her covert operations. I never told anyone of my classes at college and training. I did not want to embarrass my father by being intelligent. No knew I was training in self-defense and firearms. My sister moved in with Santino and me a month after our wedding. Most convenient for him. He liked that slutty look. He hardly looked at me. My heart shattered. It broke my heart into a million pieces. Juliana was Santino’s sister. She did not like Dahlia. We used to read together in the library. We shared the same interests in books, food and comedy movies. She was the only light in that house for me. I once thought that he loved me. At our wedding her had the look of adoration and love. He courted me. Said wonderful things and was gentle and loving. I, like an i***t, fell in love with him. Stupid, for being so intelligent, I was stupid. I fell hard for him. Then he turned cold. Then I realized that was fake. I was left alone every night. I listened to him in his room with whomever he was with. Then, when my sister moved in, I knew she was in there. With my husband. Funny thing is, I did not care. I learned to control my emotions in front of people. I never showed my facial expressions. I just quiet walked away. Santino was civil toward me. He would ask me down to breakfast or dinner. I never showed up, not that he would look for me. I made use of the gym in the basement in the mornings. In the evenings, I just said I had a headache. I knew he would not be concerned. After a night on the town, Santino walked into the house with my sister. Both drunk. He got her and I was thrown out. Like yesterday’s old news. We were married for six months. We had s*x three times. Our wedding night, then a month later. After four months, I was stressed out when I smelled my sister’s perfume on him. I was so afraid of catching some disease. I could not get pregnant. He said that he was going to use an alternative for an heir. Dahlia had s*x with him in the next room when they thought I was asleep. Not that it would make a difference if I ever said anything. I would be slapped and told to stay in my room. My sister would chastise me. Barren wife. Incompetent wife. Useless. My sister would constantly tell me to my face, “He f***s me hard. I will give him an heir. He will never want a nerd like you.” she scowled at me. “Good for you sister. He will realize what a gold-digging b***h you really are. Just remember this, going forward from this day on, I am no longer your sister. Nessun legame di sangue piu. (No more blood ties).” Was my reply as I walked away from her. Just need an opening for me, to exit. There will be no sign of me other than the expensive crap he bought for me. I am sure that my sister will help herself to all of it. Clothes, jewelry, perfumes, all of it, anything he bought me would stay here. Good for her. I finally gave up until that night he was drunk and came into my room. “What do want Santino? My sister is in the other room. You lost your way already?” Her looked down at me as I was sitting by the fireplace. He caressed my cheek slow and bent down and kissed my lips and whispered, “My tesoro, I will have you. I want a baby with you. Not your sister.” He scooped me up from the sofa and carried me to the bed. My darling? Did her just call me that? We had s*x. It was never making love. But tonight, it was different. He gentle. We repeated it over and over again. The next morning, he was gone. I found a lavender rose on the pillow next to me. Then he left on a business meeting to New York. He told my sister that she could accompany him, and she did. Even better, I was able to make some money with my profession that no one new about. Four weeks later, I was throwing up as my husband and my sister went to a party at the club. She went with him to almost every party and ‘business meeting’ out of town. I did not care. I tried to remember my last period. s**t! I grabbed a couple pregnancy tests out of the bathroom cabinet. Waited. Three out of three. Oh, damn. Do I tell him? Would this project me to the top of his list? I doubt it. I tossed the tests into the trash. They came home both drunk. They started arguing about money and an heir. He yelled at her for embarrassing him in front of his capos. He yelled at her asking why she could not be more like me. Oh, please do not use me as an example. I am trash remember? I heard glass crashing against the wall. She was having a temper tantrum. Again. He must have been fed up, he told her to leave the house and never come back. I heard footsteps on the stairs. He went into his bedroom. I heard the shower running. I am not willing to check my dresser. I did not pack anything he ever bought me. I only packed my own belongings that I brought with me when I moved in. I listened carefully as he went down to his office after his shower. I carefully tip-toed down the stairs. He called my father and told him to keep Dahlia away from him. He said he was keeping me. Nice. I am a consolation choice. Don’t think so stronzo! I had already packed my bag. I have my backpack with my laptop and my gadgets needed for my profession. Ready. Set. Run. I made it out of the back door, simply walked through the garden and out of the back of the property. Luckily for me, I have a photographic memory and walking the gardens everyday has paid off. Not to mention the view from the second-floor balcony. I watched the guards’ scheduled exchanges. I watched the house and kitchen personnel scheduled times and switches as well. I was in the clear. I walked away and did not look back. That was sixteen months ago. My twin baby boys, Domenico and Danilo. They have my brunette hair color, but they have their father’s sapphire blue yes. My sweet babies. Both are healthy and bouncing babies. I was lucky enough to find a loft in Lincoln City, Oregon near the ocean. My cousin, Silvia, is also my handler. We are part of a women’s organization of hackers. We help women and children in need. Domestic violence, victims of trafficking, drug addiction and women in need we help to locate or relocate. In this case, I was the one in need. I am now known as just a Gordy. Short for Giordano, my mother’s maiden name. I gave birth eight months ago. I was able to pull out my cash that I had in a personal account even my father did not know about. Everything I do is in cash. No cards, only burner phone and cash. I am very good at what I do. Foil anything on the cyber. I am able to scramble systems to cover what we do.