Becoming His Wife by Hayley Faiman
Chapter Eight
MACI
Mia comes by the apartment daily to go over wedding plans with me. I answer her, follow her directions and listen to her orders. What I don’t do is talk about Tiziano or see him. She doesn’t mention him either, and as the days go by, I’m pretty sure they have a past together, just by the way she avoids the topic of him altogether.
There is a knock on my apartment door two days before the wedding and I’m surprised that whoever it is doesn’t just walk inside. Mia is the only person who has been to see me, other than my one late-night visit from Tiziano. Not that I expect anyone else to come by, I don’t know anyone at all.
The only person that I’ve really met is Luciana, and that was for about five minutes total. She seemed nice, but she also seems like she’d be busy with her own life, her husband and her children and wouldn’t be popping by to hang out with me in my little windowless apartment anytime soon.
Walking over to the door, I wish that there was a peephole so that I could see who was on the other side. Tugging the door open, I come face-to-face with a petite brunette. She smiles and breezes past me before she walks straight over to my fridge and tugs the door open.
“I’m Pippa,” she announces as she unscrews the top of the water off before lifting the bottle to her lips.
“Okay,” I say warily when she doesn’t elaborate.
She smiles. “Arlo sent me. Did you meet him the other night? I saw you there, but I wasn’t able to get over to talk to you. I work for Arlo, by the way,” she says.
Nodding my head slowly, I piece together her words. I didn’t meet Arlo, but I do remember Mia telling me that he ran this place with her and that he was the only other person with access to my room, but that I would probably never even see him here.
“I’m married to Massimo. I wasn’t really in the life when I married him for protection,” she says, her bright blue eyes twinkling. “Arlo’s wife knew absolutely nothing about the famiglia when they got together. We’re going to be going to her shop today. Get you something for the wedding and officially meet her.”
“We are?” I ask, unsure that I’m even allowed to leave the building.
I mean nobody said that I was under house arrest per se, but I’m pretty positive I’m not supposed to be coming and going as I please. Pippa must see the question and hesitation in my eyes.
“I got approval, and we will have a guard. Nothing funny is going on here,” she says with a grin.
I don’t know if I completely believe her or not. She has a mischievous gleam to her eye, but since I’m sick and tired of being cooped up in here and she claims it’s fine, I decide to take her up on it.
“So where are we going?” I ask, taking a step forward.
Mia brought a couple shopping bags of clothes and shoes to me when I first arrived. It isn’t much, but it’s all a lot nicer than anything I’ve ever worn before. Nice cotton pants that have a good amount of stretch, with a few blouses and a pair of neutral tan high heel shoes.
I don’t know where she thought I was going to be going where I would need clothes this nice, but now I’m kind of glad I don’t look like a slob. Pippa is dressed in business attire, much like Mia wears. A nice skirt, a satin or silk blouse, sky-high heels, and her makeup and hair are perfect. Even in my nice clothes, I still kind of look like a slob next to Pippa.
My hair is down and straight, and my makeup is minimal. Even if I tried really hard, I could never achieve classy and put together the way these women can. It’s effortless for them, probably something they were just born with. I was born with drug-addicted parents and a father who didn’t know when to not fuck someone over.
“Shopping. Mia told me that she bought you some basics and that Tiziano would outfit you later, but I can’t let you get married and go on your honeymoon is only basics,” Pippa says, wrinkling her nose. “You should look like the boss’s wife you’re about to be.”
We leave the apartment together, walking down a long hallway and toward a door that leads straight outside. Pippa talks, and I find that she’s fascinating and bubbly. She’s the most friendly person I’ve met.
There is a black SUV waiting for us, with a man standing to the side of the back door. As soon as he sees us, he opens the door and gives us a smile as he dips his chin.
Pippa climbs in first and scoots all the way over. I follow her and buckle myself in, my leg bouncing with nervous energy.
“How old are you?” she asks softly as the driver jumps in the front seat and the SUV moves forward down the alleyway.
“Nineteen,” I rasp.
She smiles. “I was nineteen when I married Massimo. You’re around my sister, Rosana’s age. She doesn’t come around much, unless I have a family thing.”
“Why?” I ask.
She shrugs a shoulder. “She doesn’t want to marry a Made Man.”
“A what?” I ask.
I’ve heard the term before, but I don’t understand it. I don’t understand much of what is happening around me. I know that the alternative to marrying Tiziano is selling my body for money to multiple men rather than just one, so haven’t asked many questions.
Pippa smiles, but I watch as her gaze meets the driver’s in the rearview mirror. “You’ll learn all about it after you’re married.”
Her explanation sucks, it’s the same one I keep getting over and over. Though, do I really need to ask?
Really?
They’re Italian, they all wear suits, have a stable of whores, and I’m living in a casino. It’s pretty obvious that these are all mobsters. Plus, the diamonds that were flashing at the party they had for us, I’m surprised that I was able to see past all of the blinding jewels. It’s almost cliché, it’s so obvious.
TIZIANO
I frownat the sight of Arlo’s name flashing on my phone. Sliding my thumb across the screen, a sense of panic fills me at the thought of something having happened to Maci.
“Bianchi,” I greet with a snap.
“I just wanted to inform you that I sent Pippa and Maci to Lenora’s shop and out for the afternoon. They have a guard, so they’re protected.”
His words shouldn’t piss me off, but they do. I don’t tell him that though, as of right now, she is contracted to me, but she is not mine. I cannot keep her locked in her room, out of the light of day, even if I want to.
“Thank you for letting me know,” I grind out.
He chuckles, obviously aware of my annoyance. “She is in safe hands. She’ll be yours in just two days’ time, no need to get upset. I’m sending her out for your own good.”
Letting out a sigh, I can’t help but laugh. Lingerie. His wife owns a high-end lingerie boutique. “Okay, cugino. You win. I can’t get mad at that,” I admit.
“Notice you’ve been seeing Mia again,” he points out.
“Only a few times.”
He hums. “I don’t want to tell you what to do, but if you’re serious about your marriage, if you want this to be real, then you need to end it with Mia.”
“It’s nothing more than just the physical with Mia,” I say, and even saying the words, I’m not sure that I wholly believe them anymore myself.
He grumbles to himself but doesn’t say anything right away. “Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, cugino. Mia is beautiful, she’s smart, and she is easy to fall for even if it’s just in admiration, mutual respect, and not love.”
“She is and it is.”
“That can turn ugly, on all ends. Your future wife seems sweet, she’s not aware of our traditions, of what is allowed and what isn’t, of what is turned a blind eye to and what isn’t. If I were going to suggest anything, it would be to start this relationship fresh. No outside influence.”
I know exactly what he’s saying. Don’t start this relationship and continue to visit Mia or any other woman. Try to make it work with Maci and that is what I plan on doing.
“I plan on starting fresh, Arlo,” I say, agreeing with his words and his advice.
I know that he feels like he fucked up with his first wife, and maybe he did, but she was a screaming bitch, plus a traitor. Not one single person in the famiglia thinks that he did anything wrong.
“Good, I just want you to be happy, get what you want, yeah?”
Clearing my throat, I let out a sigh. “Yeah,” I murmur. “Two days.”
“Two days, cugnio.”
Ending the call, I start to work on some numbers, a spreadsheet that I keep to ensure that my men are doing what I expect and how I expect it. It can be easy for men to slip through the cracks if you aren’t aware, as the boss, of what kind of work they’re doing.
“Boss,” a voice calls out.
Lifting my head, I arch a brow, unsure of why Silvio is walking into my office. “Yeah?” I ask, curious as to why he isn’t out with his men, earning the numbers that I’m putting into my spreadsheet.
“Got a problem,” he calls out.
Lifting my hand, I motion for him to come into my office. He closes the door behind him and makes his way over to the chair in front of my desk. He sits down and runs his palms over his thighs, inhaling a deep breath before he lets it out.
“Silvio?” I ask.
He clears his throat. “Heard a rumor, didn’t want to bring it up to you, but since your wedding is just in a couple days, I couldn’t not ask you.”
“Yeah?” I ask.
“You giving up the famiglia to Gavino Santoro?”
I blink, mostly concerned with where he got his information and not so much the information itself, considering it’s exactly what I’m doing.
“You heard this, where?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer me, his gaze focused on mine and unwavering. Leaning back in my seat, I wonder if this Capo will squeal to my father if I tell him the truth. Probably. My father is still the Boss, I’m his Underboss and not yet officially in charge of the Bianchi famiglia.
“I can’t give up a famiglia that I’m not the boss of,” I say, not answering him.
Silvio nods his head once, clearing his throat as he shifts in his seat. “Your wife, heard she was bought and paid for, Boss.”
“You’re hearing a lot of personal things about me, Silvio, want to tell me who is feeding this information to you?”
I don’t like the idea that my personal information is getting around, it makes me uneasy and causes me to feel as though there is a leak in the Zanetti famiglia. A leak that could cause some potential issues beyond personal gossip in the future.
“I heard from one of my men who heard from someone in the Ricci famiglia, who heard from someone in the Zanetti famiglia. I don’t know where it feeds down from.”
I stare at him, unsure if I truly believe what he’s saying. I don’t have a choice though right now, not until I get anything else.
“You hear anything else, personal or otherwise, you bring it to me, yeah?”
He nods his head a couple of times, then excuses himself. “Close the door behind you, Sil,” I call out. He does and only when it’s completely closed and I’ve taken a few breaths do I reach for my phone.
“Santoro,” Gavino greets.
“We got a problem, Boss.”
