The Mafia King’s Doll

Tori

When I wake up, I find myself alone in bed. It takes a moment before I remember I fell asleep on top of Angelo.

He must’ve carried me to bed.

I don’t know how to feel about everything that’s happening. Let’s just say I’m cautiously optimistic right now.

As I turn onto my back, I see the phone I bought yesterday lying on Angelo’s pillow. I reach for it, and when I unlock the screen, there’s a message. I open it, and a smile tugs at my mouth as I read it.

Angelo: My cock misses your mouth. Enjoy shopping for clothes and anything else you like.

Not knowing what to reply, I keep reading the text over and over. After a while, I give up and just type something generic.

Vittoria: Morning. I hope you have a nice day.NôvelDrama.Org: owner of this content.

I climb out of bed and quickly fix the covers and pillows before heading into the bathroom so I can take a bath and get ready for the day.

When I’m lying in the balmy water, my thoughts turn to Angelo. I lift my left hand and take a closer look at the wedding band on my ring finger.

It’s only then I see the same inscription that’s on Angelo’s ring.

A & V.

I appreciate what he did last night. I mean, at least he’s trying to get to know me and not treating me like crap.

Suddenly, I think of something I can text him, and I grab the loofah and soap. I quickly wash my body and hurry out of the bath.

With the towel wrapped around my body, I pick up my phone and see he’s read the first message I sent.

I quickly type the words and watch as he instantly reads it.

Vittoria: You asked about my childhood last night. One of my happiest memories is of my father enjoying the first plate of food I made when I was fifteen. Since he passed away, no one has appreciated

the effort I put in. I just want to say thank you for enjoying the dinner I made. It meant a lot to me.

Within seconds, he replies.

Angelo: You’re welcome, baby. I can’t wait to see what you make for dinner tonight. I’ll be home at five p. m. sharp.

A smile curves my lips, and feeling a little better about my uncertain future, I put the phone down and get dressed.

When I leave the bedroom with the phone in my handbag, I go in search of a cup of coffee.

I find Tiny and Rita in the kitchen, and when they notice me, they stop talking.

I’m just about to wonder whether I interrupted an important conversation when Rita gives me a warm smile. “Morning, Tori. Coffee?”

“Please.” I sit down by the island and glance between them. “Did you guys have a good night?”

“No, my grandchild is sick. She kept me up half the night,” Rita says.

My eyebrows draw together. “Oh no, I’m sorry to hear that. Why did you come in?”

“Because there’s work to be done.” She sets the cup of goodness down in front of me.

“I slept like a baby,” Tiny mutters.

“Babies hardly sleep,” Rita comments.

He rolls his eyes at her. “Fine…I slept like the dead.” His gaze rests on me. “You look better today.”

“I feel better.” I take a sip of the coffee. “Surprisingly, I slept through the night.”

I expected to have sleepless nights for the unforeseeable future, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.

“Mr. Rizzo said I must take you shopping.” I nod. “He wants me to get more clothes.”

Tiny pulls his phone out and looks at something. “He gave me the name of a store to take you to.”

“Can I see?”

When he turns the screen toward me, I frown. “Oscar de la Renta. I’ve never heard of the place.”

“Finish your coffee. It’s an hour and a half drive.”

“Do we really have to go that far just for clothes?” Tiny nods. “Boss’s orders.”

I quickly drink my coffee, then follow Tiny to the SUV.

I still feel very uncomfortable around Tiny, seeing as I don’t know him that well, so instead of trying to make conversation, my thoughts mull over everything that’s happened.

Angelo is a very confusing man, and I’m struggling to get a read on him. The past two nights, he’s been pleasant to be around, but during the day, I’m constantly reminded of his status in the Cosa Nostra.

How do I separate the two? Is it even possible?

Giving up on trying to figure out who Angelo really is, my thoughts turn to the routine I had before I was forced into this marriage.

I really hope Angelo doesn’t have a problem with me attending church on Sundays and helping out during coffee hour.

Crap!

The ingredients for the cannolis are still at my old home. Suddenly, Tiny asks, “Everything okay, Tori?”

I hesitate for a moment, then ask, “Could we stop at my old house? I have to get the ingredients I bought to make cannolis.”

He considers my question before saying, “We’ll see if there’s time after the shopping trip.”

At least it’s not a no. “Thank you.”

Feeling relieved, I remind myself to talk to Angelo tonight about my church activities. I’ll also have to ask his permission to continue making meals for Father Parisi.

So many changes.

I glance out the window at the passing scenery and think about the intimate times I’ve shared with Angelo. I thought I was going to pass out last night from all the pleasure.

The man makes me feel things I didn’t even know existed.

Lowering my head to hide my face from Tiny’s view, a small smile tugs at my lips as I think about how good it feels when he praises me.

When I gave him a blowjob, I was so freaking nervous, but soon my confidence soared. Making him orgasm filled me with pride.

Just thinking about Angelo’s naked body beneath me while I sucked his cock has my cheeks flushing bright red and tingles exploding in my stomach.

Even though he still scares me, I can’t deny that I’m attracted to him.

The man is unbelievably handsome, and I’m growing to like the dominant way he takes charge of situations.

My thoughts are so consumed with my husband I startle when Tiny says, “We’re here.”

My head pops up. “Oh.”

We’re parked in front of Oscar de la Renta on Madison Avenue, but the store seems to be closed.

“Are they open?” I ask when Tiny holds the door so I can climb out of the SUV.

He nods while he presses the fob to lock the vehicle. Standing really close to me in a protective manner, he tips his chin toward the shut doors.

As we approach the entrance, a woman rushes closer and quickly unlocks the doors.

Stepping inside the store, I’m met with polite smiles from the staff. “Welcome, Mrs. Rizzo. We’re so excited to assist you today.”

A shy smile tugs at my lips. “Ah…thank you.”

When I don’t see any other customers, I lean closer to Tiny and ask, “Isn’t it weird that we’re the only customers?”

He shakes his head and whispers, “Mr. Rizzo had the store close for the day so they could give all their attention to you.”

Warmth bursts in my chest, and it’s so intense I press my palm to my heart.

Angelo did this for me.

The attendant, who seems to be in charge, gestures to a small seating area. “Would you like a glass of champagne?”

I let out a chuckle. “Thank you, but it’s a little early for that.” “Coffee, tea, or perhaps a glass of juice?”

My smile widens as I say, “Coffee would be really nice.” “Make that two,” Tiny mutters.

I glance at all the beautiful clothes on display as I take a seat.

A man comes to sit across from me, and giving me a friendly smile, he says, “Hi, I’m Ian, a sales associate at Oscar de la Renta. We’re so happy to

be of service to you today. Mr. Rizzo said we’re redoing your entire wardrobe. He gave us a quick rundown of what he prefers for you to wear, and I’ve pre-selected items based on his requests.”

Holy crap.

I feel overwhelmingly flattered that Angelo went through so much trouble for me. It’s so considerate of him.

My heart squeezes with a foreign emotion.

“First, I’ll take your measurements, to ensure the clothes fit perfectly.” “Okay.”

Tiny takes my handbag from me and gives me a toothy grin as if he’s enjoying this as much as me.

I’m asked to stand, and it only takes Ian a minute or so to take all my measurements, then he smiles over my head at someone. “Ah, here’s the coffee. Thank you, Susan.” His gaze returns to my face. “Have a seat and enjoy the beverage while we show you the selected items.”

I sit down beside Tiny, who’s still grinning from ear to ear. Leaning closer, I whisper, “It looks like you’re enjoying this.”

His head tilts closer. “I just like seeing you happy.”

His comment catches me by surprise, and for the first time since I laid eyes on the mountain of a man, I feel safe in his presence.

While I sip on my coffee, two women bring multiple items, and my eyes feast on the three-quarter pants boasting a flower pattern. “I really like those.”

I’m shown a variety of blouses, pants, and skirts, and it becomes more and more challenging to say no because everything is gorgeous.

Minutes become hours as dresses and gowns are displayed to me, and by the time we move onto jackets and coats, my stomach rumbles something fierce.

Tiny stops all the activity with a simple order, “Mrs. Rizzo needs something to eat.”

“There’s a cute bagel shop down the street,” Susan says. “I can make a quick run if that’s okay?”

Tiny glances at me for approval, and when I nod, he replies. “Three bagels with cream cheese.”

“Thank you,” I add.

Overwhelmed by all the attention, I proceed to look at handbags, scarves, and shoes.

Even though Angelo told me not to worry about how much I spent, it’s easier said than done.

When Susan returns with the bagels, and we pause so we can eat, I whisper to Tiny, “Can you find out how much everything will cost?”

Ian overhears my question and answers, “Mr. Rizzo asked that we send the invoice to him, so you don’t have to worry.”

Yeah, that’s not going to happen.

“I’d still like to know how much everything costs,” I demand.

“Give me a moment, please.” Ian takes a few minutes to talk to his assistants while Tiny and I enjoy our bagels.

When Ian returns, he tells me with a broad smile, “The amount is just shy of two hundred thousand.”

I sputter from the shock, my eyes blinking as if I’m having a seizure.

Tiny pats my back and says, “Don’t argue. This is what Mr. Rizzo wants.”

Yeah, but still…

Feeling very uncomfortable, I force a smile to my face and nod.

Do not freak out.

You represent Angelo, and it will upset him.

But daaaaamnnnn…two hundred thousand dollars.