Chapter 11 #2
“I can’t speak for everyone, but I can speak to what I know.
Marriage contracts are often made up for alliances.
It’s power, and it’s not even a mafia tradition.
It’s a fact as old as time. Strengthening positions, power, greed, all of it wrapped up in a white bow and vows.
There are still families out there that will do this even now, and their daughter will have no choice, so I guess, yes, you could say that women are bought and sold.
Where we are from, some of those old ways are still practiced, though they are becoming less and less now.
Our family has never done such a thing. My father married my mother because he fell in love with her and courted her until she gave in.
They never had a daughter, but he’s already made it clear that marriage for each of us is our choice.
If we’re offered an alliance with someone, and marriage is part of that, then it’s our choice if we accept.
It’s also generally understood that the woman who would be coming into our family would be willing and know the reasons for the alliance. ”
“So you don’t plan to marry for love?”
He shrugs. “Perhaps, if a woman comes along that piques my interest, but I also know that sometimes life isn’t fair and I’ll do whatever I have to do for my family.
Still, I like to think I’m a catch,” he adds with a flirtatious smile and wink.
“Who wouldn’t want all this?” He waves a hand in front of himself.
A small chuckle escapes me. “I’m surprised you don’t have women falling at your feet with that kind of attitude.”
“I’d much rather scoop them up in my arms,” he flirts.
I flush, thinking that it was him that did just that when he had to carry me out of that hell hole. Alright, I guess this one’s the charmer, and even though I shouldn’t be, charmed is exactly what I am. “Stop that,” I admonish him lightly.
“Stop what?” He blinks at me, but his eyes are bright with amusement.
“That.” I wave my hand at him. “If you’re trying to charm and flirt with me to relax me, it’s only going to work a little bit. I’m not happy to be here, and I’m not comfortable with the whole mafia thing.”
He doesn’t lose his smile, but the laughter in his eyes dims. “You’ve only been here for a few short hours, dolcezza, so give yourself time. And since you’re in my room, you’ll be seeing me often when I come to collect things to change and get ready for the day.”
Shit. I did forget this was his space. “Oh, I’m sorry. I should have asked Sofia—”
“No, no,” he interjects quickly. “You’re staying right here, all three of you.
I’ve got another space to stay until you’re well enough to be up on your own, and we can find another room for you.
” He winks at me again as he gets to his feet.
“You’ll just have to get used to the eye candy in the meantime.
” Then he strides over to what I’m assuming is the closet.
“Do I have to worry about you peeking on me, Ms. Taylor?”
It’s been so long since anyone’s flirted with me, but the familiar heat and butterflies in my belly aren’t a terrible sensation.
I don’t answer, and pointedly turn my face away to look at Soren as I hear him moving around in there.
When he finally emerges, he’s holding a few items, removed his suit coat, and rolled the sleeves of his shirt halfway up his forearm.
Why is that such a hot thing? My gaze zeroes in on his forearm not covered in clothes, taking in the definition there, along with the tattoos. Damn it, I’m a sucker for tattoos, which is exactly why my mother had a hard time liking Joey at first since he was covered in them.
He smiles at me when he stops at the foot of the bed. “I’ll leave you to sleep, but if you need anything, there’s a guard right outside the door.”
“I thought we weren’t prisoners.” The word guard is a hard slap right back into reality.
“You aren’t. The whole point of him is to make sure you’re not disturbed. He’s here for your protection, Lucy. You’re free to leave the room any time you want. Just like your sister was.”
I want to point out that he still sent someone with her, and I don’t buy the whole showing her the way bullshit, but I just nod, feigning acceptance. Biding my time. That needs to be my new mantra.
He must think I’m accepting that at face value because he smiles and says, “I’ll see you in the morning then. Do you and the bambino have everything you need?”
I nod. “Sofia brought us all the supplies we might need.” I look at Soren, still sleeping. “But he’s probably going to be up a lot tonight. So I’m sorry if he wakes anyone.”
Massimo waves that away. “Do not worry about it. If you need anything, just tell the guard on the door and he’ll get it or send someone to. Goodnight, Lucy. I promise things will be easier in the morning.” Then, with another one of his charming smiles, he’s gone.
Easier is not the word I’d use, but different, certainly. I just have to hope that tomorrow will be soon enough to start planning a way out of here.
Mafia life is not for me, and definitely not for my son. I don’t care how charming Massimo or any of the others might be. They are not my family, I don’t trust them, and they are the reason I’m going to run as far and as fast as I can when the time is right.