Page 43 of Married to the Mafia Monster

“He’s kept me safe, Dad, which is more than I can say for you. People have tried to kill me, did you know that?”

He sounds on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry, I should never have taken the damned thing.”

“What thing?”

He gives me an address, a location I don’t recognize. “That’s where you’ll find it. See for yourself. You can go get it and give it to the cops, destroy it, or give it to him. God, I wish I’d never gotten involved in all this; it’s caused me nothing but trouble.”

“Dad, what is it? What is everyone trying to find?”

He sighs again, a sound full of regret. “You tell him where it is, and he lets you live, I’ll apologize and give my blessing to the marriage. Goodbye, Bella.” His tone is final, as if he expects this to be the last time we speak.

“Dad, wait—” But the line goes dead. I stare at the receiver, my mind racing. What was he talking about? What could Alex want so badly?

I quickly text Alex the location my dad gave me, my fingers trembling as I type. “My dad called. He gave me a location. Here it is.” I hit send and wait, my anxiety growing with each passing second.

The silence is deafening. Minutes tick by, and still no response from Alex. Doubt creeps into my mind, mingling with the fear and confusion. Was my dad right? Is Alex really just using me to get to him? My heart aches at the thought.

I sink back onto the sofa, my thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. I want to believe Alex, to trust the feelings that have been growing between us.

But my father’s words echo in my mind, casting a shadow over everything. I check my bank account. The money’s real, even if the relationship isn’t. But what is going on?

Uncertainty gnaws at me. What if Alex never replies? What if he’s been playing me all along? The thought is unbearable, and tears prick at the corners of my eyes.

I clutch the phone tightly, staring at the screen, willing it to light up with a response. But it remains stubbornly silent, leaving me to wonder if my father’s grim prediction is coming true.

I can’t wait any longer. I type in his number and call him, listening, praying he’ll answer.

Act Three

TWENTY-EIGHT

Alex

The alleyway is dimly lit, shadows stretching like claws across the cracked pavement. I'm about to be surrounded. They think they can intimidate me but they’ve got seconds left to live.

I noticed them following my car about ten minutes back. Of course it was a trap. The hotel manager gave me a location to find Bella’s father but he’s working with Russo. Should have guessed. Four men tailing me. I’m not supposed to survive.

The dumb fucks think they’re tailing me unnoticed. I left the car a few feet away and came down here on foot.

Halfway down the alley, I stop just as two appear in front and two behind. My phone buzzes as a message comes through. It can wait.

"You really think you can get out of this, Pierce?" one of them sneers, his gun trained on me. The others laugh, a low, ominous sound that echoes off the brick walls.

“Thought you were good at this. Looks like you walked into our little fucking trap. Now where is it? Tell us and we might let you live.”

I smirk, shifting my weight slightly, readying myself. "You guys really should have brought more men."

“You think four’s not enough to kill you? You’re not invincible.”

I move like a coiled spring, my fist connecting with the nearest man's jaw with a satisfying crunch. He crumples, and I twist, dodging a shot from the second attacker. My elbow slams into his ribs, and he doubles over, gasping, the gun falling from his hand.

The other two have caught up from behind. I duck under a wild swing, using the momentum to drive my knee into the third man's gut.

He falls, and I grab his weapon, disarming him before he can react. The next guy comes at me with a knife, but I sidestep, grabbing his wrist and twisting until the blade clatters to the ground.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, but I ignore it, focused on the fight. I deliver a roundhouse kick to the first attacker as he staggers upright, sending him slamming into the wall.

Blood spatters the ground, mingling with the sweat and grime.

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