Mafia Mistress by Mila Finelli

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Francesca

The term “morning sickness”was a lie, no doubt invented by a man to give the impression that it wasn’t so bad. Newsflash to women everywhere: it was fucking awful.

I rolled over and reached for another ginger candy. While these little golden ovals didn’t eliminate the nausea, they definitely reduced it. And pregnant beggars could not be choosers.

After I sucked on the candy for a few moments, I felt ready to get up.

No, wait. Not so fast.

I flopped back down and closed my eyes. I hated this. I hated being in Italy. I hated being a woman. I hated being pregnant.

And I really, really hated the father of this baby.

I no longer referred to him by name. He was either “my baby’s father” or “il Diavolo” whenever I had to mention him in conversation. Which wasn’t that often, considering Giulio and my sisters were the only people I spoke to.

At least the beach was beautiful. The house was predictably gorgeous, right on the water, with large airy rooms and expensive furnishings. If I had to be a prisoner, at least it was here. I could take walks on the sand, take a dip in the water, and open the windows to catch the breeze.

During the thirty minutes I didn’t feel like puking my guts out, at least.

Finally my stomach calmed and I trudged to the kitchen, where I made a decaf cappuccino. Zia had sent some pastries with Giulio but I learned the hard way to let the cappuccino settle first. I sat at the island and drank my coffee, my tablet in front of me as I checked my text messages.

Emma had sent me a photo of her swimming in our pool and I was so homesick at that moment that I nearly cried. Well, most anything made me cry these days, so that wasn’t saying much. But I still missed my sisters. I missed my old life.

I wanted everything to go back the way it was three months ago.

Before Italy. Before the pregnancy. Before him.

My eyes welled up and a tear escaped. Damn that man. I couldn’t even enjoy morning coffee without getting weepy.

Grabbing a tissue, I wiped my eyes. Giulio texted that he would come by this afternoon, that he had something to tell me. I hoped it was good news, because I seriously couldn’t handle any more bad.

“Buongiorno, signorina!”

I looked up and saw one of the guards standing outside in the back. “Ciao, Sal.”

They never made any attempt to hide from me. I guess the father of my child wanted me to know I was being watched, just in case I considered running. Honestly, I was too tired and nauseous to consider an escape. I needed to rest and feel better, then I’d plot a way back to Toronto.

The guards were always respectful. I knew they were reporting everything back to the boss, but I couldn’t work up the energy to care. He had kicked me out, so let him hear about my naps and crying fits. He wouldn’t give a shit. Only the life growing inside me interested him, this Ravazzani son or daughter to help carry on his illegal empire.

“Sal, un caffè?” Just because they worked for a stronzo didn’t mean I would be rude.

“No, grazie.” He pointed to the chair he’d sit in until three, when Luca arrived to take over.

I flipped through the news app, hoping something would distract me. Being heartbroken was the absolute worst. Adding pregnant and alone to the mix compounded my misery tenfold. All because I hadn’t shared a secret that wasn’t mine to tell.

Giulio felt horrible for causing the rift between his father and me, but it wasn’t his fault that Fausto was a pezzo di merda. And yes, my translation app had curse words, which came in handy when referring to my baby daddy.

He’d called me a gold-digging whore. If that was what he really thought of me, it would have come out sooner or later—regardless of Giulio’s sexuality—and I will never forgive him for it.

After I ate, I decided to go for a walk on the sand. Though he never came with me, Sal watched me intently from his chair. I knew if I tried to run, he would be on me in seconds. If I felt better, I might risk it, just to see how fast the guard could run. One of these days, when the morning sickness passes.

The beach was already crowded, families and couples laughing and smiling everywhere, and I tried not to hate them for their perfect, happy lives. I stayed near the water, loving the cold spray on my feet. I didn’t have the energy for swimming today. Maybe I would take a nap when I got back.

I dodged a group of people playing near the water.

“Frankie!”

I started, surprised at hearing my name in the crowd. Looking up, I found Mariella, Enzo D’Agostino’s mantenuta, in front of me. “Ciao!” She grabbed my shoulders and kissed my cheeks.

“Mariella, ciao!” How strange. What were the odds of seeing her here? I thought she and Enzo lived in Naples. “How are you?”

“Good. You?”

“Okay. What are you doing here?”

“Visiting the beach.” She pointed to the water. “Siderno has the best in all of Italy.”

Better than Naples? I shrugged. What did I know?

“Come, sit with me!”

Before I could say no, she began tugging me toward two chaises and an umbrella. Was she here with Enzo or a friend? But seeing as how I was exhausted, I gratefully sat down.

I could see Sal getting to his feet at the house, probably coming to check on me. But once he saw me on the chaise, he retook his seat, content that I wasn’t trying to escape. His eyes didn’t leave us, however.

Mariella smiled brightly. “It is good to see you. How is Fausto?”

I certainly didn’t feel up to discussing that asshole. “Fine. Enzo?”

“He’s very good.” She waggled her brows. “He is in Napoli with his wife this weekend.”

“Oh.” That must suck.

“Fausto is here with you?”

“No. I’m by myself.”

She nodded. “It is good to take time away. Makes them miss you, no?”

I felt my stomach roll, the nausea returning. “Did you come to the beach alone?”

“Yes, but now I found you, so not alone anymore.”

Covering my mouth, I hid a yawn. I didn’t have the heart to tell her yet, but I was definitely not up for a wild weekend in Siderno. She chattered on, talking about the Siderno night clubs and all the hot men here. Then she told me about Naples and her life there. I guess Enzo treated her pretty well. Did he think of her as a gold-digging whore?

Still, it felt nice to have an interaction with another young woman close to my age. Mariella and I weren’t friends, but we were friendly and both involved with dangerous men. Fortunately, her constant talking distracted me from the train wreck that was my life at the moment. I even laughed once or twice.

“Come, let’s get a rossini!”

Though I’d never had one, I knew this was a cocktail. “I don’t have any money.”

“I’ll buy you one.” Mariella stood and led the way toward the bar near the boardwalk. I turned and saw Sal marching across the sand, following us. I pointed to the bar, and he nodded, slowing down.

Mariella didn’t stop at the bar. “Before we get drinks, you must see something. My car is just over here. Enzo bought it for me. Come, come. I want to show you.”

Wait, a car?

Mariella had a car—a car that could take me away from the beach, away from Siderno. Away from him.

My heart began pounding with possibility. Could I slip away? Sal wasn’t close enough to stop me. This seemed like the perfect chance. Possibly my only chance. We could get in and drive, and I could disappear.

I would explain my situation to Mariella. As a fellow mafia mistress, surely she would understand and help me. Wouldn’t she? Keeping my head down, I began walking quickly toward the parking lot, Mariella keeping pace. She approached a sleek gray four-door sports sedan at the curb. I asked, “Is that yours?”

“Sí! Isn’t it gorgeous? It’s a Maserati. Come see.”

She didn’t need to ask me twice. I approached the car, imagining my getaway. “Actually, Mariella—”

A hand grabbed my arm and I instantly tried to pull away, desperate for my chance at freedom. How could Sal have gotten to us so quickly? “No, let me go.”

“Hello, Francesca.”

What the hell? That wasn’t Sal.

Enzo D’Agostino stood behind me, a sharp object digging into my ribs. Was that a gun? Jesus Christ. “What are you doing?”

Before I had time to think, he shoved me forward, toward the Maserati, the gun never leaving my side.

Oh, fuck. This whole thing was a setup. These two assholes were trying to kidnap me!

My adrenaline surged, and I began struggling with all my might, attempting to free myself from Enzo’s punishing grip, but he wouldn’t budge. I kicked at him, twisting and yelling for all I was worth, but it made no difference. He pushed my top half into the trunk.

“Enzo!” Mariella shouted, and he suddenly let me go. I straightened as Sal launched himself at Enzo, and I barely got out of the way as the two tumbled to the ground. They began wrestling for Enzo’s gun, and I saw my chance. I had to get the fuck out of there.

I didn’t hesitate. I ran through the parking lot and then darted around a corner heading for the crowds on the beach, my arms pumping as my legs churned. My stomach protested but I managed to keep from barfing. I was no runner, but I put all my energy into escaping.

Arms wrapped around me from behind, jerking me to a stop. “No!” I yelled. “Help! I’m being kidnapped!” The people around us averted their eyes, hurrying away like I was radioactive. “No, please!” I called. “You don’t understand! I need help!”

“Shut up,” my captor said. “Or I will choke you, stranza.”

I didn’t recognize the voice, so it had to be one of Enzo’s men. Of course Enzo hadn’t come alone. Goddamn it. “Let me go. Please. Ravazzani won’t like this.” Fausto wouldn’t care about me, but he would care about his unborn child. Maybe.

“I do not answer to that piece of trash.”

He half-carried, half-dragged me back to Enzo’s car, with me struggling the entire way. When we arrived, Enzo was wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. A slumped figure lay on the pavement. Shit, it was Sal. Was he dead?

I tried to wrench away but the guard held firm. “Enzo, don’t do this,” I begged. “It’s not too late. Just let me go and we can forget all about it.”

“Get in, puttanella,” Enzo said angrily, pointing at the trunk. “You’re coming with me.”

“Why? Where are we going?”

“Don’t worry about that. Just get the fuck in the car.”

I looked at the small trunk. Would I have enough air in there? “Please, Enzo. Don’t do this. I’ll ride in the back seat. Please, just don’t put me in the trunk.”

“Shut up, and do as I say.”

He shoved me down and I fell halfway in the trunk. Kicking my legs, I yelled for help, hoping someone would stop this. In a flash, Enzo’s soldier covered my mouth with duct tape. Then he used a zip tie to secure my hands behind my back, threw my legs in and closed the top.

I was locked in.

Oh, fuck. No, no, no! Panic clawed at my insides, my fear of tight spaces robbing me of breath and making my heart pound. I couldn’t see anything and couldn’t move my hands. I tried my deep breathing techniques but they weren’t working. Was there enough air in here? Worse, what if I grew nauseous and actually vomited? I would choke to death.

The car began moving, rolling away from the beach, and I kicked at the trunk. It did nothing except make me feel more helpless and more claustrophobic. Why was this happening? Why would anyone kidnap me?

I started trembling, my mind stuck in terror mode. I couldn’t breathe and no one would rescue me. Sal was dead, Fausto had kicked me to the curb, and I barely knew a soul in this godforsaken country. Who cared about one pregnant mob mistress being abducted and taken who knew where?

If they were hoping for ransom, then ha ha assholes! Good luck because Fausto wouldn’t pay a single Euro to get me back. Probably be glad to get rid of me and his bastard kid.

Tears streamed from my eyes, and I couldn’t catch my breath. What had I ever done to deserve this? They were going to kill me. Or torture me.

The darkness spun around me as I got dizzier and dizzier. I knew I was hyperventilating, that I wasn’t thinking clearly, so I tried to calm down. Nothing worked, though, and my last thought was of the strangely pretty tiny red halo that shone from the taillight....

* * *

Don’t miss MAFIA DARLING, the exciting conclusion of Fausto and Francesca’s story,

coming February, 2022.

Preorder it here!