Chapter 33 – Amanda
Ihad a plan.
And I had a backup plan.
One was faulty at best. The other, I hated with a passion.
But it was the end of the week. I still hadn’t heard from my father, and things felt desperate.
Granted, I could have called Dad. The thought of reaching out, however, left me dizzy and sweating.
What if I called and he rejected my plan?
That was even worse than the backup idea.
Telling him I was actively trying to find a way out of this disaster and hearing him say that he wanted me to go through with it might just kill me.
I was stuck with getting myself out of the mess using the legal process—or the other. The one where I bowed my head and became the sacrificial lamb.
In case it came down to plan B, I needed to be divorced.
I didn’t want to think about what I would do if plan A worked. If I went to the F.B.I., if the law was on my side and protected me against the foreign warlord, what would I do with Vincenzo?
It was easier to plan for the worst and hope for the best.
With the paperwork in hand, I marched into Mama Ana’s. The restaurant was packed with an early lunch crowd. But as I guessed, a crew of Made Men sat at the back tables with their ruthless leader holding court over them.
Vincenzo was made to be a king.
My steps faltered for a split second as my eyes adjusted from the sunlight to the warm glow of the interior. He wasn’t the boss yet, but the way the men acted around him said he could be.
This is beyond stupid.
I stopped dead in my tracks, right next to a blonde mom with her three kids. She was trying to feed the youngest child a bite of pasta, but the little boy was more interested in grabbing the dish of freshly grated cheese and spilling it on his oldest sister.
What was I thinking? Marching into the beast’s den and serving him with divorce papers in front of his men?
That was a good way to make an enemy of the whole organization!
I already had one nightmare threatening me—and by extension my family.
I didn’t need the Morelli Famiglia putting a target on me by insulting their cherished golden boy in such a public manner.
Before I could retreat to wait outside for Vincenzo, the mobster caught sight of me. It was as though time stilled. That dark gaze flickered with surprise. The corners of his eyes softened a fraction. He lifted his hand, crooked his fingers in an invitation.
I shook my head, heart in my throat.
And the toddler chose that moment to fling meaty ragu with a scream of rage.
His mother leapt to her feet, rushing to me with an apology. “Oh, crap, I’m so sorry! He’s teething.”
The imp giggled, and his sisters chuckled as I brushed clumps of pasta and sauce off my chest.
“It’s fine.” I ground out between my own pearly whites.
“That’s going to stain,” the mother gasped, holding her greasy napkin out. She looked close to tears.
“My dry cleaner is good,” I lied. Between this and Vincenzo ripping my clothing off, I was down to one more outfit.
I was going to have to go shopping soon.
“I can pay for it,” the mother offered.
“It’s fine, really.” I shivered. Because there was something alive, standing right behind me. “Excuse me.”
I risked a peep at Vincenzo. He was fighting a smile. Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I stepped around him, going to the back hall where the bathrooms were. The monster followed.
“V! Let’s go man, we’ve got to get to the docks.” One of the Made Men, a bristly fellow with a thick double chin, intercepted the shadow stalking me.
As the door to the back hall fell closed, I heard the cold response. “Get out of my way, Beppo.”
There was a crash behind me, as Vincenzo and two other soldiers barreled into the hall.
“Signor Messina said—”
“I’ll deal with my father. Now fucking move before I cut you down.” Vincenzo’s voice dripped with calculated force. It made me shiver. These mobsters were hard men, living a hard life. It wasn’t the laidback life of leisure. They worked tirelessly to keep their control over the city.
As I ducked into the bathroom, clipped, vicious strings of Italian hissed from behind me. Vincenzo wasn’t happy with the soldier. There was no amount of wealth or prestige that would make me want to be on the receiving end of that conversation.
I set the manila envelope with the papers on the counter, out of the way of the sink. Reaching for a paper cloth, I looked at the damage to my shirt in the mirror. What a freaking mess! Nothing could go right.
Just breathe. It will all be okay.
It didn’t feel like it.
The bathroom door swung open.
“There you are,” a warm voice murmured. So different from the way he’d spoken to his goon outside. “I was worried you’d run off, which would mean I’d have to chase you just to say hi.”
I took a deep breath, steadying myself. This softer side of him was my kryptonite.
“Leave it to you to make someone cry over lunch,” he teased, pushing into the bathroom behind me.
“Do you mind?” I snapped. “This is the ladies’ room.”
Vincenzo flicked a glance at the empty stalls. “Want me to punish her for you?”
I swiped viciously at my shirt. “Who?”
“That mom.” Vincenzo’s voice dripped with danger. “No one upsets my wife and gets away with it.”
“No!” I seethed, flicking on the water. He wouldn’t really do that, would he? I cast a cautious glance at him and saw the monster was laughing softly. “I’m glad you think this is so funny. That woman was hysterical.”
I was hysterical.
“Don’t worry, fiore, I’m only teasing.” He leaned out of the bathroom door, flicked his fingers, and when the waitress who’d come out of the kitchen stepped close, he instructed her to comp the family’s meal and send over a double order of cannoli.
“There,” he breathed, turning his focus back to me. “Better?”
“Yes,” I grumped.
The stain was a grimy smear. The top was ruined. I slapped off the faucet, tossed the paper cloth in the garbage, and drew in a deep breath.
Focus.
But it was harder, much harder, than that. Seeing this man in such good spirits, relaxed against the doorframe, challenged my resolve. Garh! He was handsome. A dusting of scruff framed his jaw. Ink scrawled up his throat.
“Here.” I swiped the manila folder off the counter and shoved it at him. “Sign, date, and I’ll file. Or else—”
Vincenzo’s hand shot out and gripped the base of my skull. He brought our faces close together. “No.”
I closed my eyes against the intensity of his gaze. As if that would do any good.
“Vincenzo, please.” I sucked in a hard breath as his grip tightened. “This can’t happen. You and me, it’s just a dream.”
“I’m not giving up on it,” he insisted.
It was the raw cut of his voice that sliced through me. He was impossibly strong. Nothing could break him. No argument would sway him.
What if….
No.
No, I was not dumping the disaster of my life at his feet. I wasn’t risking his life in this mess. He’d only just been freed.
He deserves to live.
If I involved Vincenzo, he would be in harm’s way. I wasn’t risking him going back to prison. Or worse, winding up dead trying to play the part of a knight in shining armor. He could never know why I didn’t want him to be part of my life.
Because that was the main reason. If I wasn’t being threatened as a mail order bride, I would have to decide what to do with him. And it was easier not to think about that.
An impish, baby cackle broke the spell.
I jumped away, wiping my clammy hands on my pants.
“Oh, excuse me!” the mother said, stopping in the hall. “I didn’t see you. Are you sure you’re alright, ma’am?”
I cleared my throat.
My heart wouldn’t budge. The telltale sign of a panic attack ebbed at the fringe of my mind. I gasped a shaky breath. I couldn’t do that here—not now!
The last thing I wanted was for Vincenzo to see me fall apart.
“Fine,” I croaked.
I took advantage of Vincenzo’s loosened grip to scoot away. Darting past the mother and her toddler—who’d painted himself with sauce—I fled. I didn’t stop moving until the sunlight smacked me in the face. Even as I hailed a cab, pausing only to count my cash, I didn’t stop moving.
I had to go somewhere and calm the hell down. It had been a while since I’d had an attack, but with everything going on, I was overdue for a fit of panic.
“Mandy!” The monster banged through the door.
Don’t look at me—don’t see me falling apart.
I slipped into the backseat, pulled the door tight, and ordered the driver to step on it. He shot me a look as though I was crazy.
And no doubt I was.
“I have cash. Go, now. Please!” I watched Vincenzo stride down the sidewalk. “Hurry!”
Once the driver pulled away, with a squeal of the tires, I sagged against the filthy seat. The car cut into traffic, and my pulse roared in my ears.
Vincenzo was never going to let me go.
Which meant I was a step closer to plan B.
I can still contact the F.B.I.
I pulled out my phone, hands shaking. My contact couldn’t meet until next week. I had time.
Deep breath in—hold.
There was still a chance.
Exhale.
I’m going to be okay.
But just in case….
Me: We need to talk, bro. Privately. I’ll call you in ten minutes. Make sure Nicole isn’t around.
Cristiano needed to know what was happening.
He needed to be ready to protect my sister and her unborn child if I failed—not that I was going to.
But recent events were not playing out in my favor.
While I played the cards I had, it made me feel better knowing that Nicole had the added layer of protection from the mob.
That same luxury wasn’t something I could say we shared.