Married to the mafia boss Series

Liliana

It’s been a week since Angelo has been gone without reason and without any clues. No message from the Bratva, no indication a member from the Outfit took him and no clues that this was strategy by New York.

He’s simply gone.

Gone and no one knows if he’s dead or alive.

I remember him telling me before that if Antonio ever beat me or did something so horrid-that he would use his contacts to get me a fake passport and out of the country. I wonder if he’s done that.

Angelo would never. As much as he hates my father and my brother and their cruelness-he loves his duty to the mafia. Loves being a Made Man. He’d never leave. He certainly would never leave without telling me.

Antonio bursts through the bedroom door out of breath. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days and his outfit is all disheveled. He’s not wearing his usual suit jacket or tie. The sleeves on his white button up are rolled up and is loosely tucked into his wrinkled black pants. His wavy dark hair which is always slicked back, is now hanging in front of his face and curlier than usual.

“We found him.”All content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

I jump out of my bed and without question head to my wardrobe to find clothes. Antonio grabs my wrist stopping me. He shakes his head. “You don’t want to see him like this.”

“What do you mean?” I yank my hand out of his grip. “He’s my brother! Are you forgetting I saw him when he was in the hospital the night before our wedding?” I put my hands on my hips stubbornly.

“This is worse. He’s alive. He’ll… recover. I just don’t think you should see him like this. Besides, he’s hardly conscious right now with all the pain medication he’s taken.”

“Take. Me. Now.” I demand.

Antonio sighs and rubs his face harshly. “Liliana, no.”

“Please!” I cry. “He’s the only family I have.” Even if it isn’t technically true, Angelo is the only family member who has ever cared about me, who has ever been there for me. Now with my mom’s vacation disappearance and Luca and my father being the cold hearted people I’ve always known-Angelo is the only one I have in this life.

Aside from the baby growing in your stomach.

And your husband.

“Fine, but one hitch if your breath, or wide eyed tear filled look, I will drag you out of the room. I don’t want this to stress you or the baby out. Am I clear?”

“Sure. Yes, just please take me now!”

Antonio had Steven bring the car out front as I dressed for the day and spent a few extra minutes grabbing a quick snack. Grabbing my jacket, Antonio and I ride the elevator down to the lobby and to the car.

The entire way there I fidget with my fingers and stare out the window at the passing bystanders in the street with strollers or business cases. They are bundled in scarves and wool jackets that button high to cover the lower half of faces as the wind blows their hairs back and snow catches in their eyes.

If it weren’t for the busy Chicago traffic, we would’ve arrived at the hospital a good twenty minutes prior. No matter that car ride would still feel like hours. Antonio presses the button for the sixth floor and I feel the need to pace the elevator feeling nervous, anxious and scared.

When the elevator door opens, I clutch Antonio’s hand as he guides me down the hall into a secluded wing of the hospital that no doubt Antonio pulled strings to get him into. The first thing I notice is that it is a big room one that people who would spend months in the hospital would stay in. A room where a family would stay because their daughter is battling cancer.

The man in the hospital cot is unrecognizable. His face swollen, his dark hair shaved in places and on those bare patches is new black stitches. His arm is in a cast, the other arm looks like his shoulder might’ve been dislocated… broken ribs… busted lip… swollen eyes… missing fingernails.

It’s all too much. I refuse to react though, Angelo needs me and I won’t Antonio take me away because I start crying. I fight the burning, stinging sensation in my eyes. I walk slowly toward him and take the chair next to the bed. I brush his hair off his forehead and place a soft kiss against the skin there.

“Oh Angelo, what did they do to you?” I whisper.

He begins to wake up, only one of his eyes open and even then he can only open it to a slit. He opens his mouth but the only thing that comes out is a croak. I stare at the red and purple bruises on his neck that tells me he was either choked or tied by the neck.

“Who did this to you?” My voice cracks.

Angelo just stares at me.

“He can’t hear you,” Antonio says from behind me.

“Why?” I turn to look at my husband. I try not to wear the frantic, worried expression begging to come through.

“The doctor said his eardrums are ruptured. At the moment he’s deaf. They won’t know if it’s temporary or permanent until the test results come back.”

“Deaf?” I gulp. I go to reach for his hand but the cuts and peeled off nails cause me to pull back. It looks painful and the last thing I want to do is make things worse by touching him.

“They should be coming soon with the results.”

I nod my head and continue to stare at my brother. I notice a few tears forming in the swell of his eyes. His eye is piercing me with a glint of pain and torture. My heart drops into my stomach at what he endured.

“I’m so sorry,” I shake my head and a tear escapes. I quickly wipe it before Antonio notices.

If he noticed he didn’t say anything as he continues to stand at a distance near the door as if he’s watching and waiting for intruders.

I find a small spot on his forearm untouched, surprisingly, and rub it trying to comfort him. After a few minutes he closes his eyes and doesn’t wake back up.

The doctor comes in about ten minutes later to talk about Angelo. “Your brother has experienced significant trauma. Lacerations spanning across his body, worse on his back and arms. The nails on his fingers we expect to grow back without a problem. His shoulder will heal in time as well as the broken arm. He has a few cracked ribs and we noticed a busted kneecap as well. His concussion will make him sensitive to light, the hair on his head all begin to grow back and it’ll take standard time for the stitches to heal as well. His throat was nearly crushed and should be sore, he may not be able to talk for a while aside from gruff word or two. As for his ears, he seems to have lost his hearing completely in his right and half in his left. When we gave him his test, he communicated that there is tinnitus in the left. It will be a long recovery, Mrs. Moretti.”

I swallow hard. “Thank you, Doctor.”

He nods his head and excuses himself leaving Antonio and I to our privacy with Angelo.

“I want whoever did this to pay,” I cry out and wipe my wet eyes on my sleeve. I no longer care about getting worked up. “I want them dead!”

“I know, Lily,” Antonio gathers me into his arms and rubs my back in soothing circles. “Don’t worry, they’ll pay.”

***

Antonio took me to the hospital as frequently as I could. He wanted me to sleep in my own bed at home so I’d be comfortable. He especially wanted me home after long days so I didn’t put too much stress on myself and the baby.

When Angelo first regained full consciousness, we asked him who took him and his frustrating answer was that he doesn’t remember. He seems to have amnesia over the entire event and the pieces his does remember, there are no faces to the perpetrators. It’s been a long and grueling process and everyday I’ve been asking him if he remembers anything new and every day the answer is no.

While at the hospital, Antonio had one of the doctors on his payroll do a sonogram and provide me with prenatal vitamins. Afterall, I never confirmed my pregnancy officially with anything other than a ninety-nine percent accurate pregnancy test.

Waiting in the private room sitting in the examination chair with Antonio at my side in a regular chair is weird. The atmosphere feels strange and by the looks of Antonio bouncing his leg impatiently with his hands folded seems uncomfortable.

I always thought this moment would be one of the most exciting of my life, but I feel neutral. I’m also scared for the life this child will have-especially if it turns out to be a boy. I’ve seen the way my dad raised his heir, Luca was conditioned to be just like my father, cold-blooded and cold-hearted.

Antonio is the same. Although I didn’t know Antonio growing up just knowing the man he is today and from stories I’ve heard, Lorenzo raised his son the same way my father raised Luca. They are born without empathy and without remorse. They are born to rule and get what they want while they instill fear on all who dare double-cross him.

I’m frightened for a daughter to have the life I was forced to have. I’m mournful of whatever hopes and dreams she will develop. A daughter is a means bind ties in the Famiglia solely for political reasons. Antonio will likely pick out a man-a Made Man-one who is worthy, but also one that our daughter didn’t pick herself. She will be forced into a marriage with a man who could be any horrible options of crude, ugly, violent, abusive or vicious.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Moretti. I am Doctor Jane Conti and I will be performing the sonogram to make sure everything is alright with the baby. First, I’d like a sample of urine to confirm the pregnancy. Here is a cup, the bathroom is through that door.” Doctor Conti hands me the cup with a large smile on her face. The doctor a woman possibly in her mid-forties. She is tall with shoulder length black hair and dark brown eyes and her skin has an olive complexion.

Antonio stands as if to follow me into the bathroom but I shoot him a look to stay. Instead he stands outside the door. I squat over the toilet and try to will myself to pee, but I can’t. Nerves, I guess. Antonio knocks on the door and asks if I’m alright and I snap at him that I’m fine.

Within the next few minutes I’m able to give Doc Conti her sample and she leaves my husband and I to our silence in the room while we wait for the results.

“Do you not want this baby?” I chew at the bottom of my lip.

“Abortion is not an option and you know it,” he barks. Of course I know it, it’s against our religion.

“So, if it were an option, you’d want to get one?” I stare at him sadly.

He sighs. “I don’t know. I didn’t expect to have children this early in my life. To be honest I never really wanted any. I was hoping maybe Rocco would have a son and I could just pass on the title to him.”

“Oh,” I quickly wipe away a tear escaping from my eye.

Antonio shakes his head adamantly. “I didn’t mean-”

A knock on the door interrupts him and the doctor enters. Her smile has only seemed to grow.

“Congratulations, you’re pregnant!” She sits down on a wheeled chair and grabs a bottle of what looks like gel. She wheels the chair over to me so she’s at my side. “I’m going to lift up your shirt and I’m going to put this gel on your lower stomach. I’m going to use the sonogram machine to see if we can see the little one and hear its heartbeat.”

My pulse races with anticipation and excitement is now coursing through my veins. I’m anxious to see the baby and learn it’s gender, I’m also anxious to hear it’s heartbeat and know that it’s okay.

The gel is cold but I get used to it quickly. I rest my hands on my chest as I keep my eyes glued to the expression on the doctors face. The screen is turned toward her and she’s analyzing whatever she sees intently. She moves this wand on my belly trying to find the baby on the screen so she can do what doctors do-count all ten fingers and ten toes.

She turns the monitor toward Antonio and I and begins to point. “This right here is the head and then this the body. You’re about sixteen weeks pregnant. Which means we can tell the sex. Would you two like to know?”

Antonio answers yes at the same time I say no.

“I don’t want to know the sex. I just want to know it’s okay and nothing is wrong,” I frown.

The doctor keeps the same warm smile plastered on her face. “Everything is wonderful, Mother.”

Mother. The word makes my stomach twist in knots. I’m going to be a mother.

“Can we please hear the heartbeat?” I ask.

The first sound of the baby’s fast heartbeat causes a swell of emotions within me and I start to cry. Tears streak my face and I laugh.

Happy tears.

“There’s really a person growing inside of me?” I whisper and sniffle, wiping my nose with a tissue the doctor hands me.

“The miracle of life,” she beams.

I look over at Antonio who looks just as breathless as I do, but I also seem to notice that there’s also a great deal of fear and uncertainty in his gaze.

At the end of the appointment she sends me on my way with the first ever sonogram pictures of my child along with prenatal vitamins.

I ask Antonio if we can stop by Angelo’s room to see if he’s up for a visit. He’s been in the hospital nearly two weeks now. Antonio nods his head silently and I can tell something is wrong.

When we reach the elevator and the doors shut, he turns his head suddenly toward me and opens his mouth to say, “Why didn’t you want to know the gender?”

“I don’t know,” I avert my stare from his menacing one. “I’m scared.”

“Scared of knowing if our child has a dick or not?” He raises his eyebrow and looks at me skeptically.

“Scared to know if it’s going to be a cold-blooded murderer or a pawn in some political gain.”

Antonio frowns for the briefest moment before regaining his usual stoic look and keep his eyes locked in front of him. He doesn’t utter another word the entire way to Angelo’s room.

I’m surprised to see Angelo awake and looking alert. He’s been doing a lot better and with time he should make a full recovery with his broken bones. The only permanent repercussion seems to be with what happened to his eardrums. He’s completely deaf in his right ear and his left ear suffers with loud permanent tinnitus.

“How do you feel?” I sit at the usual chair by his side and grab his hand. The nails on his hand still haven’t grown back yet.

Communication between us has been a challenge given the only ear he can hear in has some lost frequencies along with a high pitched ringing. He’s been reading lips and when things get too complicated we’ve been writing on a whiteboard. His doctors have been talking about either learning sign language or thinking about hearing aids.

“Alright,” he answers in a hoarse voice. “How are you?” He frowns. “You look like you’ve been crying.”

My eyes meet Antonio and I give him an unspoken look that tells him to let me tell my brother about our news.

“Fine, but if he tells another soul I’ll kill him,” Antonio says with blunt seriousness.

“He’s not going to tell anyone. He’ll still be in the hospital for the next few weeks recovering and no one visits him,” I scold.

“What’s going on?” Angelo says warily as he looks between the two of us.

I reach into my pocket and hand him a picture of the sonogram. I wait for him to look at me before saying, “You’re going to be an uncle.”

For the first time since before the hospital I’ve seen him smile. “Jesus Christ! I’m going to be an uncle!”

“You can’t tell anyone,” I say slowly to make sure he understands and gets every word.

“Of course,” he nods. “Am I going to have a little niece or nephew.”

I shrug my shoulders. “We don’t know.”

“I want a niece,” his smile is so wide his cheeks must hurt.

I chuckle. “I have no control over it.” In the corner of my eye I swear I catch Antonio smiling.

***

“I miss you,” Arabella says with her voice breaking over the phone. She sounds like she’s been crying. I don’t blame her.

“How is he treating you?” Like I even need to ask.

“I don’t want to worry you. I’m alive and everything is alright. It’s my duty and New York is beautiful, so is the penthouse. Things are-” she’s cut off and I hear distant talking over the line.

“Arabella? Is everything okay?”

“Is Antonio near?” She asks.

I sit up in bed and look over at Antonio sitting in his usual chair in our bedroom sipping on a glass of bourbon.

“Yeah, why?”

“Luca wants to talk to him.”

My body goes still but I get up and hand the phone to him. He raises his eyebrow and takes it and puts it against his ear. “Hello?” He says in his deep gruff voice. “Yeah… In New York?… When?… I can… okay,” he hands the phone back to me.

“Hello?” I say into the line and hope it’s not Luca on the other line.

“Looks like we will be seeing each other sooner than I expected,” Arabella says with a hint of excitement in her voice.

“What do you mean?”

“Luca just invited you two to New York. Which is good because I’ve been missing you and just about everything and everyone back in Chicago.”

I put the phone against my chest and look to Antonio to ask, “Why does Luca want us in New York?”

“Business. We have some things to take care of regarding business with the drug cartel in Mexico and the Bratva.”

“Why do I have to come? Is it safe to travel?”

“It’ll be safe. Luca said Arabella has been asking for you.”

After I talked briefly with Arabella and then Antonio about New York, it was settled. Next Friday Antonio and I are going to take the plane to New York City. This will be the first time going back to my hometown since before Lorenzo’s funeral. Come to think of it, I miss New York. Maybe not the people but I miss the city itself and how lively it’s always been. Maybe Antonio will even take me to The Metropolitan.

All night I find myself worried about Arabella, worried that Luca is treating her worse than I could ever imagine. Just by talking with her I can tell she’s lost some spirit and some of her bubbly optimism.

Antonio must’ve noticed because he rolls over to face me. I look over at the clock that read two in the morning. I thought he would’ve been sleeping but when I look at him, I can see his eyes are open. He wraps a hand around my waist and pulls me against his bare chest.

His hand rubs over the slope of my stomach and moves in a circular motion, massaging me. His lips kiss my neck and gently suck and nip at the sensitive skin there.

“When we go to New York you’ll have to cover this little bump of yours,” he takes my earlobe in his mouth.

I let out a little whimper but my previous thoughts of worrying about Arabella flood my mind once more.

“Stop worrying,” the hand massaging my stomach dips into my underwear and brushed against my sensitive nub causing me to arch into his touch.

I wrap my arms around him and pull his body even closer to mine. I dig my long nails into his back and softly moan as his fingers now skillfully move up and down my wet seam.

His lips capture mine and his tongue probes my lips begging me to open up for him. Our tongues dance but Antonio leads as he dominates me. His body hovers over mine and his finger enters inside of me. I shudder as he curls his index finger and hits my sweet spot. My eyes nearly roll into the back of my head.

My lips feel bruised and swollen when he pulls away and puts his lips to even better use as he sucks on my nipple through my silk nightgown. My hands plunge into his dark hair and pull gently. He adds another finger and my legs fall wider apart inviting him to do more-to give me more.

Lost in a sea of ecstasy I wither in pleasure underneath him. My troubles and all that has previously bothered me these past few weeks including Angelo, the baby and Arabella are lost. Antonio’s skillful mouth is the only thing I can think of, the only thing I want and crave.

His rips my panties off of me leaving me bare. He pushes up my nightgown to expose my nipples. He licks until both of my nipples are pebbled wetness coating them from his licking makes them sensitive to the cool breeze of the room. His mouth lingers around my stomach planting sweet, soft kisses all along my bump. He whispers something that I can’t hear but I don’t think those words were meant for me anyways.

His tongue licks down to my throbbing core as his mouth and his fingers skillfully work to bring me precariously to orgasm. The nub at the top of my slit is throbbing and he purposely avoids it to stave off my impending release. Only when sweat coats my forehead and I’m begging does his mouth latch on and sucks so hard that I scream in a shuddering wave of pure nirvana.

When I catch my breath, I see Antonio kneeling and making his way toward my head. I’m eye level with his hips and I’m staring at where his pants are tented. I grab the hem of loose pajama pants and pull them down. His erection springs free and my eyes widen. Seeing him so close and knowing what I’m about to do-something I’ve never done before-causes a new form of excitement to run through my body.

My hand grabs at the base of his erection and I let my hands pump him. His feels silky and hard and a drop of clear liquid is already forming at the tip. I use the tip of my tongue to wipe it clean and swallow the almost salty taste. He wraps my hand in my hair and looks down at me with growing anticipation. His eyes are dark with lust and his tongue runs across his bottom lip.

I cover my lips over the tip and suck. Instinctively, Antonio’s hips buck and another inch of his cock is shoved into my mouth. I moan out my enjoyment and am surprised to find myself getting wet again. I try to take more of him in my mouth as I move up and down on him. My tongue skims the underside of him and he groans above me. I gaze up at him with wide eyes, his own pierce me and I can see the restraint in him. He’s holding back, but I don’t want him to. I urge him to take what he wants as he pumps his hips and forces himself down my throat.

I gag momentarily and feel a tingle of embarrassment, but Antonio shows no sign of disgust, only his pleasure and the look of admiration. His hips move faster and I suck harder, I can tell he’s racing to the finish line so I nervously bring my hand up to cup his balls remembering that I heard from someone in high school that’s that what guys like.