Arranged Mafia Marriage

Elsa

“You have a baby seat in your car?” I stare through the open door of the stunningly beautiful SUV, and at the most stylish baby seat I have ever seen.

“You have a baby, don’t you?” he retorts.

“I thought all you Mafioso only drove sports cars?”

“This is a sports car.” He pats the hood of the silver-colored beauty. “It’s a Fornasari RR99.”

“Is it a cousin to R2D2?”

He glances at me strangely. “It’s made in Italy, but the horsepower is completely American.”

I place Avery in the baby seat and strap her in. I hold up her bunny, and she grabs hold of it and immediately begins to chew on it. I place the bag with all of her essentials on the floor in front of her, then walk around to the passenger seat. Before I can reach for the door, he opens it for me. “Thank you,” I murmur, then slide into the seat.

He shuts the door, rounds the hood to the driver’s seat, and straps himself in.

“Seatbelt,” he reminds me as he turns the ignition key. The muted purr of the car’s engine fills the space. I buckle in and he eases the car onto the road. There’s something about an expensive vehicle: you can feel the power under the soles of your feet, sense it as it glides down the road. But when you glance out of the windows, the world is still the same. The scene is exactly how it would be if you were looking out through the windows of any another vehicle. But somehow, everything is different.

He joins the stream of traffic, keeping well below the speed limit. The throb of the vehicle’s engine, though, hints at the latent power possessed by this machine. A bit like the man next to me. His broad shoulders are encased in a tailor-made jacket, his tie is dark against the stark white of his shirt. His wide palms and thick fingers caress the steering wheel as he guides the SUV along. His thigh muscles flex as he depresses the accelerator. His entire being is a mass of tightly restrained control. Authority pours off of him. The little I’ve seen of the Sovrano brothers has made it clear to me that Seb lucked out with the best features of all his brothers. Almost as tall as Massimo, as gorgeous as Axel and Christian, as mean looking as Luca, as authoritative as Michael, and as deceptively easygoing as Adrian.

Yeah, he’s gorgeous, larger-than-life, someone who’s a real catch. Not that I’m bad looking. I mean, I’ve never put myself down in comparison to a man, but still… When I take in his beautiful profile, his larger-than-life presence, the way he carries himself as if he owns the world and expects all of us mere mortals to fall in line with his commands, which is exactly what I did… Well then, I can’t help but wonder why he wants to marry me. He’s given me all of the reasons, but somehow, it still doesn’t make sense.

“What are you thinking?” His deep voice cuts through my thoughts.

“That you need to make a right up ahead.”

“I know.” He nods at the GPS. “I have the address keyed in.”

“So, you know where my ex lives?” I shake my head. “Of course, you know where my ex lives.” I turn to face him fully. “Is there anything about me you don’t know?”

“I don’t know the color of your panties,” he shoots back.

“Shh.” I turn to glance over my shoulder and find Avery nodding in her car seat.

“That was a very effective change of topic.” I place my hands in my lap. “I’m really not comfortable with this whole thing. My ex… He’s not a nice man. It’s one of the reasons I left him. He took Avery and moved to Italy, and I had no choice but to follow. He’s the Police Commissioner, so he has the system behind him. It was ridiculously easy for him to prove I was an incompetent mother without the means to take care of my child. Avery was barely a year old when he got custody of her. I was sure I wasn’t going to get to see her at all, but at the last minute, the judge took pity on me and ruled that I would get to see her on weekends. It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.”

I lean over and glance at Avery’s sleeping face again. I’d managed to give her a quick bath and dress her in her favorite pink dress while Seb had made his phone calls from the living room. I’d also managed to pack some essentials for myself in the little time I had.

The car eases to a stop, and I notice the long line of cars in front of us. We remain stationary for a few seconds before the vehicle behind us honks. It’s taken up by the car next to us, then the one in front of us, until all of them seem to be honking in a rhythm that shouldn’t be synchronous, but somehow, is.

The honks fade away, then the driver in the car next to us pushes open his door, steps on the running board, and yells at the cars ahead.

“What’s happening?”

“Traffic jam.” Seb thrusts his chin forward in a very Italian gesture that means ‘it’s out of my hands.’This content is © NôvelDrama.Org.

I pull out my phone and glance at the time on it. “We’re going to be late.” I shuffle my feet. “I can’t afford to be late.”

I turn to glance at Avery, who’s still snoozing. I pull out a tissue and lean over and wipe the drool off her chin.

“If I am late, he’ll report it to the judge, and they’ll use it against me again.”

I move around in the seat. “Please, Seb, we can’t be late.” I unsnap my seat belt, and he reaches over and grabs my hand.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re only ten minutes away; it’ll be faster if I walk.”

“I’m not letting you out on your own.”

“I’m not staying in the car.” My heart begins to race and a bead of sweat slides down the valley between my breasts. “You don’t understand. Fabio is not a patient man. If I’m even a minute late, he takes it out of the next visit. If I’m more than five minutes late, he takes away half a day from the next visit. And he… he has a temper.”

His hold on my hand tightens. “Did he hurt you, Elsa?”

I swallow.

“Did he beat you when you were together? Is that why you left?”

“I left because we were incompatible, because I married him in haste. I didn’t find out I was pregnant while I was with him, or he might not have let me go at all…”

His gaze grows thunderous. “What does that mean? Did he use force with you? Did he, Princess?”

I shake my head. “Please, let me go. I need to make sure I get Avery to him before it’s too late.”

The traffic in front begins to move slowly. Horns sound all around us. He curses, then releases me to focus on his driving. A few minutes later, we come to a stop again. I grab the handle, twist it, and shove the door open on my side.

Seb curses, “Cazzo, I should have locked the doors.”

I open the door to the backseat, and reach over to Avery to unbuckle the straps so I can scoop her out of the baby seat. Then, I reach down to grab the bag with her essentials.

I straighten to find Seb has crossed over to stand next to me. He grabs the bag from me.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m coming with you.”

“But the car-”

“I’ve messaged Adrian to come get it.”

He slams the door shut behind me, then locks the car. The man in the car behind us rolls down his window and gestures rudely. “Stacazzo! Dove pensi di andare?” He yells.

I know enough Italian to understand that he’s asking Seb where the hell he thinks he’s going?

Seb shoots him a glare and the man pales. He must recognize Seb as Mafioso, for he instantly retreats back into his car. I cross over to the sidewalk, with Seb leading the way. His long legs eat up the distance, and I struggle to keep up with him. Sweat pours down my temples as I move Avery to my other arm. A few more steps, and my arms begin to ache. Damnit, am I not strong enough to carry my own child? I try to increase my pace and trip on a crack in the sidewalk.

Seb grasps my arm. “Easy,” he murmurs, “easy.”

Avery begins to cry as I continue to walk with Seb guiding me forward with an arm around my shoulder. “Shh, baby, it’s okay,” I assure her, but I’m not even sure I believe that myself. She cries louder, fat tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Here, let me.” Seb takes her from me. He holds her against his chest with one arm, the same arm over which he flung the bag over his shoulder. He grabs my wrist with his other hand, and begins to walk faster. I almost have to run to keep up with him, but at least I’m not carrying the bag or encumbered by Avery’s weight. We reach the corner, turn right, then keep going until we hit the turnoff to the road for Fabio’s house. We turn in and the noise of High Street fades away. He picks up his pace, and so do I.

“It’s this house,” I pant as we reach a pair of white gates.

I reach for Avery, but he steps to the side. “I’m coming inside,” he murmurs as he depresses the button below the security camera.

“This is a bad idea.” I shift my weight from foot to foot. “He won’t be happy.”

“Too fu- Too bad,” Seb growls.

The gates swing inward and we walk through.