Conquered by the Mafia Boss

“Beatrice.”

Shit.

Jett’s voice rings out from a room that I almost walk past. It’s not empty-filled with a couple of his men, who look at me with something more than cold disgust. Hope.

“Come inside, I want to talk to you.”

The president’s cutting gaze is like a javelin thrown to my stomach.

He wants to talk to me. Oh God.

Holding in my breath, I give him a nod and walk into his office, trying not to flinch when the door closes behind me. Jett surveys me over his desk.

“It looks like the Italian chose you.”

The breath catches in my throat. “He-he did?”

“It hasn’t been confirmed yet. Johnny says he wants to think it over for a while.”

My fingernails bite into my palms as beads of sweat form on my skin. Jesus Christ, I can barely meet his gaze.

“This marriage is the best thing for the MC. I hope I don’t have to explain to you how important it is that everyone keeps their end of the bargain. We can’t afford another war with the Cravotta Family.”

“So long as everyone shuts their mouths, we’ll be fine,” says Frank, who gives me a long, searching look.

“How long will I have to be with him?”

Pity wrinkles his eyes. “Until the investigation is over.”

Well, fuck.

“If this marriage doesn’t work out, don’t bother coming back to the MC.”

My heart thuds against my chest. “What?”

“I have no place for someone who supports a traitor-”

“I am not Maya!”

Three stunned faces turn toward me as my voice explodes in the middle of the room.

Oh my God. I just yelled at the president.

My face slowly burns, and I can just imagine the red creeping up my neck.All content is © N0velDrama.Org.

“You let her get together with the boss of the family, which started all this mess.”

This again? How many times can I say that it wasn’t my fault?

“Jett, you have to believe me. I wanted nothing to do with it-I am loyal to the MC-I’ve spent my whole life here.” My eyes cloud over and burn. “Please don’t send me away. Everyone I care about is here.”

“Everyone? I’ve heard that you asked to visit Maya and her cock-sucking husband.”

“She’s my cousin! I just wanted-”

“No! You will not call her your cousin while you are under my roof. Good people died because your cousin wanted to fuck around with an Italian? That bitch is dead to me, and if you’re not careful, you’ll join her.”

Tears slip down my cheeks, and I think again about how I utterly ruined my chances with Jack by slapping him. The president points at the door.

“Get the fuck out.”

His voice rings in my ears as I practically run out of his office, a sob catching in my throat as I wipe my eyes. I walk into the main room in the clubhouse, which has a few people. Dad’s not home, so I can’t talk to him about this.

The wires hanging from the walls look like the entrails of an insect. The speakers were ripped out the moment Jett became president. The constant music was a distraction. He wanted an MC that was more focused. Business, not pleasure. The stripper poles and floorboards were next to go. He replaced them with dark, polished wood that show the scuffs of everyone’s shoes.

I don’t recognize this place anymore.

Everywhere I go, unfriendly eyes follow me. The heaviness from their glares presses down on my shoulders, and I think about my cousin, Maya. A flurry of complicated memories and emotions pass through my head: Maya combing my hair, her scissors trimming the length, mixing a batch of bleach for highlights. That awful smell always reminds me of her, and that time when she burnt my hair when she left the foil in for too long. We laughed about it, years later.

Now she’s gone, and it’s so lonely without her.

I miss her. I miss the sound of her voice and the fun we used to have. None of us are allowed to see her. She’s a traitor-she fucked a man who was a barely tolerated enemy of the MC, the boss of the Cravotta Family. I heard through the grapevine that she had a baby boy. The seed of resentment that took root the moment she fled the MC grew into a bitter fruit. She left and I was stuck with the mess. I was dating Paul, and then he ditched me the moment the last president died. Everyone associated with Maya was shunned into nonexistence.

Fuck your dreams. Fuck what you want. Go see Jack now and beg for his forgiveness.

Or Jett just might have my throat cut.

I’ve never been outside by myself. Before yesterday I was completely naive to the world outside the MC. Just as fresh as a teenage kid, really.

I keep thinking that as I walk down the quiet suburban street, my footsteps sounding oddly loud as they echo down the strangely deserted sidewalk. I didn’t expect to find him here, among a row of identical brownstones. St. Leonard is notorious for its Mafia ties, so I guess it’s not that surprising. I just expected a little more glamor from a twenty-something party animal.

Whatever. Get in there and grovel.

Number 38.

I grab the metallic railing, which gives a rusty shriek as I climb the white steps to his apartment. For a moment my abdomen clenches and a vision of myself boarding a flight and flying far, far away grips me. My fist hammers the door.

The paralyzing seconds following my knock are the worst. Is he going to open the door and tell me to fuck off?

My insides feel like ice as I wait there as though held in suspension, but my thoughts keep racing. This is, bar none, the weirdest thing I’ve ever done. I’m here to beg a man who scares me and who I hardly know to marry me because I don’t feel safe in my own home. A man who doesn’t particularly make me feel safe.

I mean, Jesus.

Then a warped, dark shadow grows bigger in the glass, and the door creaks open to reveal a sliver of Jack. From what I can see of his face, he doesn’t look happy.

“Hi.” I don’t know what else to say. He just stares at me, the one eye I can see blinking. “Jack, I-I wanted to apologize. Can I come in?”

In seconds the door opens and his hand shoots out, grabbing my wrist hard. He yanks me inside and slams the door shut, sending the bolts home. I’m crushed to his side as his hand gropes down my body, searching for weapons. His arm snakes around my neck, trapping me against his chest. Then he turns me around like I’m a doll and frisks me.