CHAPTER FOUR #2
A few taps on my phone and her message pops up.
I take in her words. Words that make instant panic flare up.
My fingers fly over my phone and I bite my lip waiting for a reply.
Minutes pass but there’s no response whatsoever.
Without thinking I head downstairs. I don’t care what I have to do.
I’d gladly drop down to my knees and beg Clemente; I have to try and save Donya.
The message she sent was short but direct. She overheard her father talking with her mother. Her father is debating the request for her hand in marriage. Nothing out of the ordinary since we knew it was coming, but the request comes from Marco Donelliso.
Marco has gone through two wives already. And what I mean by that is he killed the first because she almost managed to kill him, and the second one killed herself a few days before I stepped on a plane to come here. This asshole smacks his wives around and uses them as he deems fit.
In my rush down the stairs, I almost bump into Leandro and I sidestep but it makes me collide with Arturo instead.
“Hold your horses, woman.” Arturo chuckles and immediately drops his hands he was using to make sure I didn’t fall on my ass.
“I’m sorry,” I croak, my voice still filled with emotion. “I need to talk to Clemente, it’s important.”
“What’s wrong?” Leandro asks.
“Clemente isn’t in his office and not answering his phone. We have a meeting in about thirty minutes, so he’ll show up soon. But whatever it is, we can help,” Arturo states.
“It’s my cousin, Donya.” I sigh.
I’m trying really hard to think of a reason why she needs to get on a plane and come here. Because these are mafia men I’m talking to. They live by the same rules and Donya is just one of many women who is bound to be tied into an arranged marriage. Nothing wrong about it.
“And?” Arturo presses.
“I’m thinking,” I whisper and try to push away tears.
I rarely cry. I’ve learned to control my emotions but being miles away from my cousin and best friend is killing me. Not to mention I’m just a woman without any power. It completely wears me out.
My shoulders sag and my phone—which I’m still clutching in my hand—starts to ring. A picture of Donya appears on my screen. All I can do is stare at it while my mind is still trying to think of what to do and say.
Arturo gently takes the phone from my hand and answers the call, putting it on speaker before he says, “Hello, gorgeous. Caterina can’t answer the phone right now, so you get me, Arturo. With whom do I have the pleasure?”
“Donya,” my cousin croaks. She tries to hide a sniffle and adds, “I’ll try to call back later.”
“No, you won’t. It’s not nice to tell me a lie,” Arturo says with a very gentle tone. “So, instead, why don’t you tell me what’s wrong, gorgeous? Caterina is just as upset as you are and I need to know why, so I can help.”
“It’s nothing. You can’t help. No one can. I’m better off dealing with this alone. Tell Caterina not to worry about me when I’m gone. Tell her I love her and that I hope she will be happy. Tell her...even if I’m gone, I’ll always be with her.”
“Don’t do it,” I croak. “You can get on a plane. Come to me. Don’t—” I swallow a sob instead of voicing the words, “kill yourself.”
“Somebody start fucking talking,” Leandro growls. “Because I have no fucking clue what the fuck is going on.”
“Gorgeous, like I told you, I’m Arturo, the underboss,” Arturo says in yet again a soft, calm, and collected voice. “I’m taking you off speaker and then you and I are going to talk. Because whatever it is, we have the power to fix it.”
“No, you can’t. No one can change what’s already set in motion,” Donya replies in a defeated tone.
Arturo taps my phone and brings it to his ear.
I lean in and tell him in a rushed, waterfall of words, “Her father is going to agree to an arranged marriage to a man who abuses women. He killed his first wife and his second killed herself. Please, I don’t know what to do.
Just get her here to the US and I’ll let her disappear.
She’s my cousin, my best friend. Please. ”
Arturo spins on his heels and heads out into the garden.
Leandro and I follow and when I glance left, my throat instantly runs dry.
There’s a metal bar high up in the air and Clemente is hanging on it with two hands, doing pull-ups, wearing just his sweatpants low on his waist. He jumps down when he sees us and strolls our way.
He doesn’t stop until he’s standing right in front of me and pinches my chin with his thumb and forefinger. “What’s wrong?”
My lips part but no words come out. What is there to say? Beg. Maybe I should beg for his help.
“Her cousin has to marry some fucked-up asshole who’s already responsible for the deaths of his two other wives.”
“Can she come here? For our wedding?” I ask, finally finding my voice.
I need to get her on a plane to get her out of Italy and away from Marco. Once she’s here she can easily disappear.
“Then what?” Clemente snaps and drops his hand. “Let her run off while she’s under my protection? I don’t need the hassle. Men have started wars over less shit.”
“There is another option,” Leandro states, making all our eyes land on him, even Arturo looks up from murmuring into the phone as he steps back inside.
Clemente points at me. “I’m already set to marry this pain in the ass. Or are you offering?”
Hope flares inside me as I wait for Leandro to answer Clemente, because this is in fact the perfect solution.
But Leandro looks utterly horrified. “Don’t look at me like that.
I don’t intend to wed anyone anytime soon.
Only if there is a necessity and this sure as fuck doesn’t qualify.
Do you know how many women in the outfit are forced into an arranged marriage?
It’s like puppies and stray dogs, you can’t help or save them all. ”
Anger gets the better of me and it makes me snap, “Asshole.”
Shit. I used to be cool and collected before I arrived in California. I guess that didn’t last even one freaking day into my new life with these idiots surrounding me.
“Boss,” Arturo says, breaking the tension.
Leandro throws his head back and laughs a full belly laugh. “I knew it.”
Clemente is confused and to be honest, so am I.
Leandro smacks Clemente’s chest with the back of his hand, lifts his chin in Arturo’s direction and says, “I saw the picture on Caterina’s phone. Her little cousin is a redhead.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Clemente groans. He grabs his own phone out of his sweatpants and punches in a number while he asks Arturo, “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Arturo replies without any hesitation.
My head bounces from one man to the other, completely oblivious to what is happening.
Clemente places his phone to his ear and glances at me. “What’s her name?”
“Donya Rosellinno,” I reply.
He gives me a nod and stalks away.
“What’s going to happen?” I ask and keep my eyes locked on Clemente, who looks utterly calm.
“Watch your man work,” Leandro says from my left. “There’s very little he can’t fix.”
“Such as?” I mutter.
“Bring people back from the dead,” Leandro deadpans, making me shake my head.
Clemente shoves his phone back into his sweatpants and stalks our way. He holds out his hand and Arturo places my phone in Clemente’s hand.
His eyes are locked with mine when he tells Donya, “Pack your bags, your ass will be on a plane within the next two hours.”
He doesn’t say anything else but hangs up and hands me back my phone. I’m completely stunned by all of it.
“I need a shower. Be in my office in fifteen minutes for our meeting,” he snaps at his guys and stalks away.
“What just happened?” I whisper, mainly to myself.
“Arturo here just fed his redhead addiction. He’s going to marry your friend, cousin, whatever. Happy now?” Leandro snickers.
Without thinking twice, I throw my arms around Arturo and give him a hug.
“What the fuck?” a lethal voice bellows from behind us.
I step away to face a furious Clemente. “You two, assholes. My office. Now.”
His two guys don’t even flinch but head into his office without one word. His anger is crackling through the air and I have no idea why. Unless. Ugh. Possessive asshole.
“I was thanking him,” I huff, raising both my arms up and away from my body to add the whole “What the hell is your problem,” statement I’m making.
“You should be thanking me,” he snaps back.
A growl of frustration rumbles through my throat before I grumble, “You weren’t here.”
He takes a step closer. “So, if I’m not around you launch yourself at any available man’s arms?”
“Oh, for crying out loud,” I mutter and rub my temples.
“I didn’t think it was a huge issue if I hugged your friend, your freaking underboss, who is loyal to you.
It didn’t mean anything. A spur of the moment thing because I was feeling emotional about my cousin not having to kill herself, because that’s what she was about to do before you jumped in and helped. ”
His eyes go thoughtful for a moment, but then the angry glare is back full force. Remember, you’re the lovely trained future wife of the head of the Famiglia, I mentally reprimand myself.
Taking a deep breath, I swallow my pride and try to put sincerity into my voice. Though, it’s not hard to do since he did help to save Donya and bring her here, and for that I am grateful.
“I’m sorry. For both my outburst and not respecting your boundaries. It won’t happen again. And I would also like to thank you for saving my cousin.”
“I didn’t do it for you,” he says and suddenly looks bored.
“I did it for Arturo. He’s been fucking all the whores with red hair these last few months and even has a few that dye their hair to be noticed by him.
It’s been messing with a lot of things. So, having a wife will allow him to have an easy fuck at home and let the whores focus on making money.
Not to mention the fact that he can be here when I need him within five damn minutes instead of half an hour.
He lives in the mansion next to mine but the fucker is always at the whorehouse. That will end now, I’ll make sure.”
I should have known. Ruthless mafia men. It’s the whole “Pick your poison,” deal in this world because there is no better option.
“Asshole,” I mutter underneath my breath.
His left eyebrow raises. “What was that?”
Swallow your pride, lovely trained wife to be, I mentally chant again.
“I could have sworn I heard you calling me an asshole while I just arranged for you to have a little friend to keep you company when I have to deal with business.” The snap in his voice with the whole “I deal with business,” is another sneer at me that I should mind my own business.
“Asshole,” I spit loud and in full anger at his face.
He did mention I could be myself when it’s just the two of us, right? So, the hell with holding back, he sure doesn’t.
“You’re right, I call it the way I see it and you are one huge freaking selfish asshole. Go and deal with your business while I slap some lipstick on to look pretty and be a good freaking wife.”
“No need to add lipstick or look pretty, you’re already mine.” He looks down his nose at me as if I don’t matter, and it really rises the need inside me to poke his eye out with my middle finger.
Swallow your pride, my inner voice repetitively tries. And this time I decide to listen because going head-to-head is getting us nowhere. We’re not even married and are trying to lash out at every turn.
I take a calming breath and plaster a tight smile on my face. “Thank you for the reminder, and for your help with my cousin. If you’ll excuse me, I have to get ready for my meeting with your sister.”
I give him a nod and head for the stairs, cursing him seven ways to Sunday in my head while killing him slowly. Gosh, it’s nice to have private time in your head and the ability to keep killing him over and over to lessen some of my frustrations.