Married to the mafia boss Series

CARMELA

I’d never see Michael again.

He’d never give me tulips, draw hearts on Post-it notes, or take me to my first ultrasound appointment. I’d miss Matteo’s fifth birthday. I wouldn’t be there when the kids grew into adulthood.

I’d be here.

With Nick.

He’d get me pregnant to trap me. He’d never smile at the baby or change diapers or do anything that wasn’t self-centered. Our child would grow up in a violent home. Nick’s heartless infidelity would grind my spirit into dust. He’d suffocate me.

From here on out, it was pitch-black darkness. No more light. Just the soul-crushing despair of being stuck with this man.

Nick had locked me in his ramshackle bedroom. He’d settled into a restless sleep in the queen bed, his body like a block of ice. When sunlight peeked through the Roman blinds, he peeled from the mattress and disappeared on some an errand.

I dressed quickly, my gaze sweeping over Nick’s belongings-clove cigarettes, Zippo, motorcycle restoration magazines. The person who’d lived here before Nick had hung a calendar on the wall and gash marks punctured where Nick had thrown knives. Cigarette butts scattered the floor. Nick was careless with his guns, but with the place surrounded with one-percenters, I’d never make it out the door.

My old leather jacket draped the chair pushed into the desk. I swallowed hard at the words stamped on the back.

PROPERTY OF CRASH.

I fingered the worn fabric that’d once covered my shoulders. Wearing it would feel wrong, like slipping into ill-fitting skin. I wouldn’t wear it-couldn’t stand another second of this.

Heavy boots scraped the wood as the doorknob turned. Nick bowed his head under the frame and strolled in with a plastic bag. Lines gouged the skin under his eyes as he shoved a pink box into my hands.

“Do it.”

My thumb brushed the text. A pregnancy test.

A lump lodged in my throat. “Why?”

He grabbed my arm and steered me into the white-tiled bathroom, his pale gaze narrowed but resolute. “Take the goddamned test.”

“Could I get some privacy?”

“No.”

Nick folded his thick arms. I opened the box and removed the test. It trembled as I sat on the toilet and peed on the stick. Nick plucked it from my hand and returned to his spot, tapping the counter. He glared at the tiny window.

“How long does this take?”

“A couple of minutes.”

I backed against the shower. I didn’t think I was pregnant, but what if I was?

What would he do to me?

Nick left, guarding the results to himself. He raked his blond hair. He popped open the first buttons of his plaid shirt, more agitated than I’d ever seen him. My insides boiled.

His fingers whitened, and then he picked up the packaging. Whatever he read on the cardboard made him rub his forehead.

“Shit.”

The plastic clattered to the floor. Two lines etched the window.

I was pregnant.

My heart swelled and constricted, the relief chilled by the block of ice sliding against my side. Nick slumped beside me. He stared ahead, pale and lifeless. He looked like he’d been shot.

It was the best news, but my eyes flooded with the sweet misery that Michael wasn’t here to share it with me. We would have a baby. It was everything I’d wanted. My vision glazed over.

He grasped my jaw. “Is it mine?”

It definitely wasn’t his.

Nick seemed to interpret my emotion for confirmation. His palm smoothed over my belly and stroked me. “We never used a condom.”

I gaped at him.

“This happened so fast. One time, and boom, you’re pregnant. Jesus.”

He believed I was four months along?

Did he know anything about pregnancy?

“You’ve gained like fifteen pounds since then.” Nick slid from the bed, running his hands through his hair. “How’d I not see this coming?”

The idiot didn’t consider that when we were together I’d starved myself from stress, and being with Michael had healed me. Allowing Nick to believe this absurd fantasy turned my stomach, but it might ease my escape.

I had to save us.

“What did you think would happen when you came inside me?”

“I wasn’t thinking.” Nick opened a black box, ripping out a cigarette. “Is there a test to make sure I’m the dad?”

“You can’t smoke around me.”

He threw it on the floor. “Is there a fucking test?”

“Yes, but it’s not available over the counter.”

Shaking, he undid the holster at his waist and dumped the gun on his nightstand.

I could grab it.

“I’ll raise our baby alone.”

“Hell no.”

“Nick, you won’t be able to handle the late-night feedings, the screaming, dirty diapers, and you’ll take off when the kid’s sick and needs to go to the doctor.”

Nick’s eyes shot lightning bolts at me. “We’ll have help. Just like Costa.”

“You’re not the fucking same. He wants this with me.”

He had no idea what he was talking about. All the nannies in the world couldn’t replace a parent like Michael.

“He told you what you wanted to hear. He knows you’ll never leave if you get pregnant. He’s a good liar. That’s all.”

No. “You’re wrong.”

“Easy on the attitude, Carmela. My patience has limits.”

They weren’t the same.

It was getting to me, the constant comparisons with my husband. Nick was determined to tarnish my beautiful life with Michael, but it could never resemble what Nick had done-the torture, beatings, and rapes.

“I saved you from a man who used you like a slave, and you believe he’s better than me. Call me broken. Fine. You’re the one with the damaged brain. You begged me for a baby, and when I said no, you latched onto an inferior version of me.”

He had it all backward.

“I don’t love him because he’s similar to you. He’s an amazing dad and a wonderful partner, and I feel safe when I’m with him. He listens to me. He wants the best for me. You never gave me that. You’re a cheat. An abuser. You are nothing like him.”

“He killed six people last night. Legion guys. Drive-by shooting.”

“I don’t care!” Maybe it was sick that I didn’t, but it was the truth. Michael would have to do a lot worse than kill a bunch of gangsters to turn me against him.

“You would if you were yourself.” He paced the room, color returning to his cheeks. “We have to leave. I’ve got to find Costa. I need to put an end to this, especially now.”

No. “Nick-”

“Enough!” he roared, whirling on me with raised fists. “We’re having a goddamn kid together. Stop pining for a man who won’t live out the weekend. Once he’s dead, you’ll be free. And then we’ll marry.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

He pushed me toward the door, but I dug in my heels.

“Michael’s not dying, and I’ll never marry you!”

“Then I’ll sue you for full custody and bribe the judge. I’ll make him give me the brat. You’ll never see our baby again.”

It’s not yours!

“Wear your jacket. Let’s go.”

Nick’s steel-like presence vanished, and then he thrust the leather into my arms.

I flung it to the floor.

Nick’s eyes followed. His hand whirled, smashing into my face. The blow slammed me into his nightstand. My skull cracked the wood. Something heavy wobbled on it.

His gun.

I grabbed it and fired.

A picture frame exploded beside Nick’s head. He flinched as I aimed at his chest. Boots stomped in the hall. Voices outside shouted. They smashed through distant doors.Belongs © to NôvelDrama.Org.

Nick stared at me, wide-eyed. “What the hell?”

“Hands up! I’ll kill you.”

“You wouldn’t murder the father of your child.”

You’re not. “I have to get away from you.”

“Kill me,” he sneered. “They’ll rape you. Every one of them.”

“Shut the fuck up!”

“All right. Calm down.” Nick’s tone was soft, beseeching. “Take a deep breath and look at where you are.”

“I have to leave.”

“You’ll hurt the baby.”

The door burst to a man with a shotgun.

“Axel, no. Back the fuck off!” Nick gripped the barrel, shoving himself in the line of fire. “Carmela, put the fucking Sig down.”

“No.”

Nick roared at the biker. “Back off!”

The man retreated. Nick wheeled at me, his lips thinning. Shock flickered across his gaze. “Are you kidding me with this gunslinger shit? Is this because I’m the dad?”

“I told you not to hit me.”

“You whip out a gun because I slapped you?”

“Yes.”

Nick swallowed hard. “Carmela, this isn’t a game. You’ll die. Lower the piece.”

“At least I’ll be free.” I gestured toward the hall. “Move.”

He backed into the darkness, laughing. “What is your plan? You’ll attack the whole clubhouse?”

“I’m leaving.”

A high, cold laugh boomed down the corridors. He stepped forward, eyes filled with mirth.

“I swear to God, Nick.”

“Beauty, you’re surrounded. There is no way you’re getting out of here.” Nick glowered at the men inching closer. “Anybody shoots at my pregnant old lady will have their balls blowtorched. Leave us the fuck alone!”

They lowered their weapons, and I walked Nick to the door as he grinned at me. He looked like I’d grabbed his dick. He enjoyed torture, but there was one thing he loved more.

The chase.

We strolled the porch, heading to the row of motorcycles.

“Want these?” Nick pulled the keys from his shirt pocket, dangling them. “Put down the gun.”

“No.”

“You’ll have to kill me to steal my Harley.”

“Are you willing to test me?”

“Maybe I’ll let you have a ten-minute lead.”

“Follow me, and I won’t hesitate to murder you.”

He laughed, the air misting with his breath. “I missed this side of you, Beauty.”

“Keys.”

He stopped near the Dyna Super Glide. “You don’t know how to ride.”

“Give them, or I’ll shoot you.”

He tossed the ring. It landed a foot away. “Bend over, and they’re yours.”

I squatted and groped until my fingers latched onto metal. My hands shook as I opened the disk and slid the key inside.

“You’ll never be able to move it from the driveway,” Nick scoffed, his smile widening. “You can’t even shift gears.”

“Yes, I fucking can. It’s a simple concept. I’ll figure it out.”

The panel lit up. I hopped on and grabbed the clutch, mashing the buttons. My control over the situation slipped into doubt as it failed to start.

Nick watched, arms folded. “Want me to show you how it’s done?”

I fired. The dirt beside his boot exploded. “That was your last warning.”

“How many rounds are in that clip?”

“Enough to kill you.”

“Yeah, but what about them?” Nick gestured to the ranch house. “You fuck me. They fuck you.”

“I’m leaving!”

“Baby, you won’t make it five miles. Put it down. I won’t hurt you.”

I twisted the left handle and pressed a button on the right. The seat vibrated as his Harley rumbled.

Yes.

“Carmela, don’t be an idiot. You’ll end up a stain on the road!” Nick stepped forward, the barrel sinking into his stomach. “You’re putting the baby’s life at risk.”

My chest tightened as that hit home.

I could’ve blown out his heart.

Nick slowly glided to my wrists. He pulled until the nozzle aimed at the ground. Nick clasped my hand and shook the weapon from my limp fingers, and then he buried the gun in my hair.

“Crazy bitch. You’ll regret this stupid stunt.” The light in his eyes died as he climbed onto the bike. “We’re going home.”

“I have a home. It’s not with you.”