MARRIED TO THE MAFIA BOSS

CHAPTER THREE

DANIELLE

Sometimes, I feel stupid for maintaining close relationship with Nico and Elio Morelli

“You are the little sister I never had, and I’ll treat you as such in the best way i can.”

My world shattered that night. It was my sixteenth birthday,, and my lifelong crush, the hero in my fantasy, the man of my dreams, Nico Morelli had declared me his little sister in front of friends and family. I was in love with him. I was saving myself for him. I cried so hard and told everybody I was really happy to have them present. Honestly, I wished everyone would leave immediately.

The second heartbreak definitely came when I heard about his marriage to the… family. The part of me that believed in our future together was defeated.

I’ve known the Morelli family almost all my life. They attended my father’s church in Sicily whenever they visited from New York and dragged him into their cosa nostra drama, but he maintained his relationship with God. Antonia, the eldest child, was my first friend. I was nine and she was 18. She and Nico had a striking resemblance. She made sure my papers were processed so that I could continue Junior school in New York. A year later, she was married off to a cosa nostra family.

Nico took responsibility after, making sure I was well taken care of and visiting home as often as I could. I went to Italy as often as every two weeks flying in a private jet. That would be my life for the next five years. The timeline of the start of my now crushed feelings for Nico Morelli. Elio was always nice to me. But Luciano was a good boy, quiet but never friendly with anyone. He was the son of a mistress and spent most of the time trying to get on his father’s good side. He became a different person after his mother died.

Almost eleven years after my first somewhat public rejection, I return to Nico in hopes that he would save me from an arranged marriage. I can’t let father marry me off to that old fucker. So many things could go wrong.

I’m back in the same hallway of the warehouse I was in a few days ago when I heard that gun shot, and the thought of getting shot in the head by a Morelli has become one of my possible ways of dying.

When I asked Nico why his brother’s office is in a desolate warehouse with only a few guards scattered all over, his response was that he loves his solitude. The warehouse is the place where he is most productive and making the craziest plans. If arranging a marriage on impulse is also a crazy plan, then the warehouse is true to its purpose.

Dragging in a lengthy deep breath, I bring my fist to the large Mahogany door that stand’s between me and Luciano Morelli’s calm, cynical demeanor as he sits in his small office that seems almost separate from the rest of the building, but my hand hesitates knocking. Which is the lesser evil? An Italian self-righteous pastor who is slightly older and an obvious irritant, or a reckless, trigger happy, short-tempered, obnoxious mafia don whose darkness is stronger than night?

Nico! My subconscious yells. It should have been Nico. No one else but Nico. Luciano is a snobbish d**k. Always has been. Always will be. Nothing can change that. Not even a real marriage.

But, this will never be a real marriage, I remind myself. And, according to him, I’m not his type. Father will not dare to get in the way of the Morelli family. Once the marriage is approved, he will have no choice but to accept. I grew up with this brothers, it is only right that I fall in love with and marry one of them. Doesn’t sound strange, does it?

My body stiffens when I sense a presence closely behind me. The person is so close I can feel the heat of his body on my back. His. This could be anybody but I can bet with my entire life that he is a man. It’s the strong smell of aftershave and all-round masculinity.

With unsteady heart and staggering confidence, I swivel around so fast that I slip on one foot and head for a big fall but a large hand cups my back, stopping me from falling.

My eyes are squeezed shut and if I thought my heartbeat was unsteady earlier, it is out of control now. Blood rushes to my head and pounds furiously, a roller coaster of emotions.

For a second too long, I stiffen in the grip of the strong hand that saved me from falling, and I open my eyes to find Luciano Morelli looking down at me, a sly smile on his lips. My face warms in embarrassment and I quickly look away, helping myself to balance on my feet.

With a snicker loud enough to be heard, he brushes past me and opens the door to his office.

“Come in,” he says aloud.

I could faint from embarrassment right now.

I walk quietly behind him until he is sitting behind his mahogany desk and I’m standing right across from him, avoiding his gaze, still warm from embarrassment.

“Why don’t you sit down, Ms. , That tripping earliest might have made you dizzy.”

He’s mocking me right now, and I can hear my subconscious screaming at me to reconsider my ‘lesser evil’ man. It is not too late to bail.

Forcing a smile, I take the seat across from him, the same one I took the last time I was here.

We stare at each other for a beat, waiting for one of us to speak first. I observe him, his almost unreadable expression down to the neck of his unbuttoned brown shirt. His hair sure needs a trim but his stubble is well-groomed. I can feel it scratching my hand as I hit him in the face.

I want to speak so bad but the only thing on the top of my tongue is a ‘f**k you’, but Luciano Morelli would definitely make an out of context joke out of it.

“I like to f**k, if you must know.”

Luciano breaks the silence, and my body stills. What? If I wasn’t self conscious I’d think I cursed him out loud. Maybe I heard him wrong.

“Excuse me?” I say, quickly gathering myself together.

“You heard me the first time, didn’t you?” He brushes his fingers on his stubble.

“I-I’m sorry. I don’t understand what you mean.”

“I can’t be in a marriage where I can’t f**k my wife. Is that understandable enough?”

His eyes are dead serious, his expression tight and hard to read.

My mouth falls open but nothing comes out because there’s nothing to say. Words have eluded me, and all I can do is sit here and replay what I just heard in my heard.

“That can’t be part of the contract!” I cry out in disbelief.

He smirks, regarding me with narrowed eyes.

“Relax, .. We haven’t gotten to the contract yet.”

I swallow hard, breathe in and out, in and out, subconsciously trying the breathing technique to keep me calm.

“What’s in the contract?” I ask, suddenly feeling queasy.

His smile gets bigger and, I swear to f**k I wish I could smack that face of his hard enough to leave imprints of my fingers.

“You’ll know when we get to that stage. Tell me,” Rising to his feet, he walks forward, stopping right beside me. He sits on the edge of the table and looks intently at me, crossing his arm over his chest. “Is s*x with me something you’re going to be okay with?”

“No.” His overpowering presence doesn’t stop me from blurting out almost immediately. “What do you think I am? A puta?”

His arms drops and he grabs my chin, shockingly hard at first, then his grip softens. “Sweetheart, I would never regard you as that. I have utmost respect for women.”

Respect my foot!

Grinding my teeth, I snatch my face from his grasp.

“I’m not interested in having s*x with you,” I grate. “The marriage won’t stop you from seeing other women