Married to the Mafia Boss

Dominic

I drive until I see a rundown motel to pull off into. I park at the back just in case and go to the front desk.

“What will it be?” The lazy receptionist asks me, staring at television to the side.

“One room, two beds,” I say, taking out some cash and tossing it down. “And don’t tell anyone we’re here.”

The receptionist takes the cash and slides a room key to me, “Not here, got it.”

I take the key and check the number before I lead Sofia up to the room. Once the door is closed, she turns to me. “Are we safe here?”

“We’re not safe anywhere,” I say, setting the duffel bag down.

“You look like you could use a shower,” I say. I dig out tracksuit pants and a shirt and toss them to her. “These will be a bit big, but they’re clean, and you’ll be comfortable.”

She leaves to shower, and I step out of the room, taking a burner phone out of my pocket and slipping a preloaded sim card into it. I dial Alessandro’s number.

“Dominic, are you okay? I saw the news, and I assume that’s your handiwork.”

“A quiet, discreet option did not present itself,” I justify my actions. “I got here, though.”

“Where are you?”

“Best not to say over the phone. I don’t want to be long either, in case they track me. You never know.” I pause. “I think there’s more to this kidnapping than Facuno lets on.”

“Why’s that?” Alessandro asks. I can hear he’s shutting a door. He’s probably gone to his office.

“I don’t know. It’s a gut feeling. They knew where to find us at the last hotel I booked, and I used a burner cell for that too. No one could have known we were there.”

“Maybe they tailed you, and you didn’t notice them,” Alessandro points out.

I scoff. “Me? Alessandro, how long have I been doing this? And I was on my bike, which you’ll have to pick up later.”

Alessandro pauses. “Stay near New York but don’t go straight to Facuno. I’ll send word that Sofia is fine and that you’ll contact him on where to meet. I’ll dig a bit more into his family and their background.”

“Thanks, I’ll contact you tomorrow,” I say. “Speak soon.” I hang up and break up the phone and sim card, tossing them in a nearby trash can.

I walk back into the room as Sofia comes out of the shower. My clothes are bagging on her, and her hair is sopping wet, but she looks fresh and clean, and I’m sure she feels better.

Pretty girls like this are always a problem. One I don’t intend to get involved in.

I take out the next phone I’m using as a burner phone and organize a car rental from a place not far away. I use a false name to book it under, double checking that I have that driver’s license on me.

“So, you’re from the Sorvino family…” she says quietly. I look at her. She’s using a hair clip to comb her hair. She fixes the pretty clip into her hair and sits cross-legged on the bed.

“I am. I did say so early,” I say irritably. Man, was this princess stupid or deaf?

“What’s your family like?”

I look up at her, exasperated.

“I don’t really speak to people outside of my family, okay? I like to keep to myself, and you should do the same.” I sit on my bed and open the duffel bag. I reload my guns and check the other firearms and ammunition in there.Copyright by Nôv/elDrama.Org.

She turns back to the television and puts on a movie while I busy myself with polishing the guns. I glance at her now and then when she giggles at the movie. She has a beautiful face, but she is extremely frustrating.

“How did you get out?” I ask quietly. “Away from your captors, I mean.”

“Sorry?” she says, looking at me.

“You were running out of the house when I came in,” I say, looking at her. She makes me feel exasperated. “How did you get away from them?”

“They left me with one guard,” she says. “I tried to get out through a bathroom, but that didn’t work, so I seduced him, kneed him in the groin, and hit him with his gun. I then locked him in the room and sneaked out. I hid in a closet when you detonated your explosion because I knew the guards would come running past, and I didn’t want to get caught again. Once I thought it was clear, I came upstairs and bumped into you.”

“You talk a lot,” I say. “You could have just said you kneed the guard and sneaked out.”

She glares at me. “Don’t ask if you don’t want to hear the story. I’m so sorry that I have an extensive vocabulary.”

I roll my eyes. “Do you always talk this much?”

“Do you always talk so little?” she snaps back.

I smirk. “I’m not a man of words, it’s true, but I am a man of action.”

She rolls her eyes and looks back at the television.

“Stay here,” I say. “I’m going across the road to get us some food.”

“Am I safe here?” she asks.

“You asked that earlier. You’re not safe anywhere, but I can see this room from across the road, so I will keep an eye on you, don’t worry.”

She nods and hugs her knees. She looks so vulnerable. A small part of me twitches with a tiny need to protect her, but I bury that strange feeling fast. Emotions cloud your judgment, and that gets you killed quickly.

I leave the room, locking it behind me. I walk across the street to the fried chicken place, keeping an eye on the room as I place my order.

I sit at the window and watch the room as I wait for my order to be called. Twice cars drive past slowly, catching my attention, but they pass by without circling back. Something just feels off to me.

How did they know we were in the Holiday Inn?

The guy calls my order, and I get up, hurrying to pick it up before I walk back across the road. I keep checking my surroundings to ensure that no one is watching me or following where I am going, but it seems oddly quiet. I glance at my watch, it’s after nine, but there should still be some traffic.

It makes me feel uneasy, but I go back into the room and drop the food on the bed. “Help yourself. I just got chicken pieces, gravy, chips, and soda.”

She pulls a face, looks at me, and I deadpan her. She shrugs and opens the food up, starting to eat. I wait for her to take some for herself before I dig in, sitting on the edge of the bed with the cardboard container in my hand as I rip into the chicken.

She sits opposite me, watching me. I roll my eyes. “Please stop staring at me as though I’m going to grow a third head or something.”

“You mean you have two?” she asks curiously.

I smirk and wait. She finally gets the joke and pulls a face. “Seriously childish.”