Page 4 of Mafia Darling

“Rav,” he implored, his expression as serious as I’d ever seen. “It’s D’Agostino. He says he has something that belongs to you.”

CHAPTER THREE

Francesca

These Italian motherfuckers, always kidnapping me.

The trunk opened suddenly and bright light flooded my eyes. Had we stopped? I’d been too deep in my head, too terrified, to even notice. My chest heaved as I desperately tried to suck air through my nostrils, which were clogged from crying and fear. Deep in the back of my mind I knew I'd hyperventilate if my panic didn't subside, but I couldn't control my body.

"Calmati," I heard Enzo say as he leaned over, the phone in his hand pointed at me. Jesus. Now he was taking pictures of me? What, was there some mafia social media, where they bragged about their killings and kidnappings?

He moved to a different angle and snapped more photos. “I apologize, Francesca. This was necessary, but it’s over.”

In one quick motion, he ripped the heavy tape off my mouth. The burning pain seared my skin and caused my eyes to water. Fuck, that hurt. He flicked open a knife and I tensed. Was he going to stab me? Rape me? Cut my tongue out?

In a flick of the blade he cut through the zip tie around my wrists. I immediately cradled them to my chest, rubbing the deep indentations in the skin. Pins and needles started at my shoulders and worked their way down my arms as the blood flow returned. I winced, waiting for the pain to subside.

Enzo lifted me out because I was too weak to fight him, which I hated. It was like when Giulio found me in the dungeon. I was a shell of a terrorized woman. Mafia men were officially the worst.

Mariella and Enzo steadied me when my legs trembled and I almost toppled over. Shaky and sweaty, I licked my lips. “You fucking asshole.”

He smirked, unrepentant over his evilness. “I know. Dai, andiamo. You may sit in the back seat.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“To Naples. No one is going to hurt you, I promise.”

“You held me at gunpoint and shoved me into a trunk. It’s a little late for that, Enzo.”

“I apologize, but I had to make it look convincing for the cameras.” He led me to the back seat and produced a pair of handcuffs. “Get in.”

“Why would I go anywhere with you two fucked-up psychos?”

He raised his shirt, showing me the pistol tucked into his waistband. “I prefer to do this nicely, but I am happy to put you back in the trunk, if you prefer. Either way, you are coming with me.”

I wanted to fight. To run and escape. But we were on a deserted stretch of road, with nothing but flat ground all around us. I wouldn’t get far.

And how could I risk my child? If he shot me, I would probably bleed out to death in the hot August sun.

You will find a way to escape, Frankie. Play along for now.

I slid into the back seat, and Enzo glared down at me. “I will handcuff you and put you back in the trunk if you try anything. Behave and you can sit back here with Mariella.”

Mariella got in beside me as Enzo walked around to the driver’s seat. “There is nothing to worry about,” Mariella said. “Enzo won’t hurt you. This is about getting what he wants from Ravazzani.”

Great. That was certainly reassuring.

And just saying, if she thought we were still friendly, she could fuck right off.

Enzo got in and started the car. I leaned against the door and closed my eyes, exhausted. What time was it? I had no idea how long I had been in that trunk.

Mariella nudged me with a bottle of water. “Here. Drink this. I have a protein bar for you, too.”

I wasn’t too proud to refuse, not as a pregnant woman. “Thank you.” Enzo was texting on his phone, so I asked her, “How much longer?”

“Four hours.”

Oh, fantastic. This was going to be a miserable car trip. At least I wasn’t in the trunk any longer.

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