Page 13 of Bought By the Mafia

“He came with his entourage while you were inside the villa and caused a scene before leaving. He was just flexing his muscles.” There was a time before the reception started when Giovanni told me to stay inside while they were setting up the marquee. I didn’t think much of it back then and went to the kitchen to thank the caterers for baking a wedding cake in such a short time. I had stayed longer than I intended because the caterer was talkative and kept asking me to taste the food to see if I liked it. Looking back, I felt like a dumb little woman for not knowing something major like that had gone down.

“Should we be going out if things are that heated?”

“Feeling a little self-preservation? Don’t worry? He won’t strike at a public event. Besides, his base is not in New York. If he tries anything here, he will provoke other New York families. But like I said—”

“You can’t be too careful,” I finished for him.

I was in a daze for the rest of the ride. Knowing that I was a pawn to be played whichever way by multiple mafia crime families did not put me at ease. Gio was confident going to the gallery opening was safe, but what if he was wrong? What if one of his enemies was careless enough that they would try to kill us there? How could he live such a life and be so calm?

“Simona?” I turned to my left to see the car door was open and Giovanni standing outside with his hand stretched out. I was so deep in my thoughts I didn’t notice the car coming to a stop, Gio getting out and the door being opened. I tried to ignore my overwhelming anxiety and took his hand.

The gallery was in one of the most fashionable areas of the city, but that still didn’t stop thoughts of gunmen coming out of the night and railing bullets into my chest.

“Are you sure we’ll be safe?” I asked.

Gio seemed bemused with my statement and I expected a snarky retort, but he said, “Like I said before, no one would dare attack us at such an event.” He caressed my hand softly. “Besides, my men would never let that happen.” Right. Of course. I was being overly worried. It’s just that I had no idea how in danger I was until now. I clamped down on my worry and let him lead me inside. It was going to be fine. Everything was going to be fine.

We were handed glasses of champagne and pamphlets as we entered and welcomed by the owner, a middle-aged man in a white suit who greeted Giovanni with sweet familiarity. “A friend of yours?” I asked after the owner was gone and we started making our way through the gallery. Gio nodded.

“Another investment?” I asked as we stopped at the first painting.

He raised his eyebrows, clearly understanding what I meant by investment. “I told you. I only deal with the legal side of the business and no, this is not one of my legal investments,” he said.

“Interesting. So you’re like the money man in your family? You never told me the hierarchy.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Why? Is there someone who wants the information?”

“Oh, god. I was just asking out of interest. Making small talk with my husband. That sort of thing.”

He sighed, and I felt his hand, which had gone to my waist, tighten and then soften. “If there’s a hierarchy, Dante is the head. Followed by me and then the twins, Rico and Nico.”

“See,” I said, taking a swig of the champagne. “That wasn’t so hard.”

We continued with the tour. The pieces were grouped by artist and most of the contemporary ones had the artist standing by, ready to explain their work. There were people buying the art, as some pieces had stickers marked sold below. Most of the art was good. The gallery owner seemed to have a good eye, but Gio, for someone who had dragged me here, didn’t seem that interested in what was on display. He was walking a little too fast for someone here to appreciate the art.

“You know, if we walk a little faster, we will be done touring in a couple of minutes,” I said. He mumbled something I didn’t catch and shuffled me forward. His rushed attitude hit something in me. Instead of I stopped. “I don’t know about you, but I would rather savor the art, you know, before moving on.”

“Really? You want to savor this?”

It’s just so happened that we had stopped in the photography section, the least inspired section of the gallery if I were to put it nicely. “I mean, not this piece in particular.” It was probably the worst piece in the gallery. A black-and-white photograph of a mouse that looked like a filter had been added to it instead of being taken by black and white film. I knew little about art, but even I could tell it was not worth even hanging in a cheap motel. “This piece is making me reconsider your friend’s eye for art,” I said.

“That’s because the benefactor of this fine place has a new wife who thinks she’s an artist. And for the owner to get funding, he had to agree to showcasing this.” His last words were laced with derision. Not that it wasn’t deserved. The ‘artist’, if I could call her that, was terrible. Most of the work was out of focus, too simplistic or just downright bad.

“Simona?”

I turned to the source of the familiar voice and tone. Someone I hadn’t seen in a long time was standing behind us. “Kara?”

She immediately rushed towards me and enveloped me in a hug. When she let me go, she said, “Where have you been hiding?”

“Around.” I was feeling self-conscious suddenly. Kara and I used to go clubbing together, back when I had too much time on my hands and wanted to get away from my mother. We were close at one point. If Kara started chatting—and she loved to chat—about all those times we got drunk together, Giovanni’s already low opinion of me would go down to below zero.

“Who would have thought that I would see you here? You’ve always hated this scene.”

“I could say the same about you,” I said, wondering what she was doing here. She laughed. “I’m a different woman nowadays.” She took her gaze off me and onto Gio as if noticing him for the first time. “And whose is this you’re with?”

I cleared my throat. “Kara, Giovanni. My…husband. Giovanni, Kara, an old friend of mine.”

“Husband?” her eyes widened. “My god, Sim, you bagged a handsome one, didn’t you?” She extended a hand to Gio. “Nice to meet you, Giovanni,” she said.

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