Page 5 of Mafia Darling

Enzo started the car and drove off. “You’ve been staying at the beach a long time, Francesca. Trouble in paradise?”

Though I wanted to curse and scream at him, I said nothing. If he’d been watching the beach house, then he knew Fausto hadn’t come to visit me, that I was staying there alone.

“Fausto has a temper,” Enzo continued. “You must have pissed him off for him to send you to the beach.”

“You can stop trying to pump me for information. He won’t care that you’ve kidnapped me, if that’s what you are wondering.”

“Oh, I think he’ll care very much.” He smirked in the rear view mirror at me. “I’ll soon have the proof.”

Whatever that meant. “Listen, Enzo. You seem like a decent guy, as far as mafia bosses go, so I’m trying to save you a headache here. Even if Fausto wants me back, which he doesn’t, I’m not interested. He and I are through, so your little kidnapping plan won’t work. To be honest, you’re actually doing me a favor by getting me out of there.”

His smirk died.

“You cannot mean it,” Mariella said. “The two of you were so affectionate on the boat.”

I looked over at her and lifted a brow. “Well, guess what? He kicked me out—without parting gifts.”

“I don’t understand this. Parting gifts?”

“As in, I didn’t get to keep my phone or anything else from him.” Except a baby, apparently. Hooray. “So Fausto can drop dead as far as I’m concerned.” I didn’t actually want him dead; I just wanted him out of my life. For good.

Mariella gasped and Enzo frowned. They exchanged a glance in the rearview mirror. I could tell this development was not what they expected.

“I can’t wait to see Naples, though,” I said, changing the subject. “What do you guys do there for fun?”

They began speaking in rapid Italian, too fast for me to keep up and I was too tired to care. The excitement and adrenaline had taken it out of me. Growing a baby was exhausting. Leaning over, I rested my head on my arms and closed my eyes. Maybe they’d drop me off now that they knew a big payday wasn’t possible.

If they did, I could walk to the nearest town and try to call my sisters. Try to arrange a plane ticket out of here, go someplace where I could make sense of my fucked-up life.

Something told me Enzo would not drop me off, though.

Which meant I was going to need to escape. Again.

I could do this. I could outsmart them. Outlast them. No doubt they thought I was weak and silly, the girl in the black bikini from the yacht. The puttanella.

They would underestimate me—as both my father and Fausto had—and I would make my way out of this stupid country. I would disappear to somewhere no one would find me, not even my family. A place with tons of open space and not a lot of people. I could grow vegetables and raise sheep. No, not sheep. They were too cute. Maybe chickens.

A phone rang over the car’s audio system. “Pronto,” Enzo said.

Deep, rapid Italian filled the car, and my muscles instantly went on alert. His voice was clipped and formal, but unmistakable.

Fausto.

I hadn’t heard that sexy Italian rumble in weeks. My chest cracked, little fissures of misery opening up again, all the aches I’d tried to bury. I didn’t want to miss him. I needed to keep hating him. I should keep hating him. He certainly didn’t deserve my forgiveness, the dick.

“Go ahead,” Enzo said in English. “You are on my car’s speaker.”

“Frankie,” Fausto said calmly. “Are you well?”

Frankie. Not Francesca or dolcezza. Frankie, as if I was an acquaintance or old friend. Prickles of sadness coasted under my skin and buried in my chest like needles. If that was the way he wanted to play it, then fine. “Just great, il Diavolo. You?”

He didn’t answer for a long second. “Enzo will take care of you. I will see that he sends you wherever you wish to go—with my blessing, of course.”

A lump formed in my throat and I couldn’t speak. He was washing his hands of me, for good this time. I shouldn’t have been surprised. It was exactly as I had told Enzo. Fausto didn’t want me back and he didn’t care that I’d been kidnapped.

At least we were all on the same page.

I could hear him breathing normally, so unaffected, like this was only one of a handful of tasks he had to deal with today.

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