Page 7 of Bought By the Mafia

“Then say goodbye to your marriage.”

“Are you forgetting something? Or should I say someone? One phone call to your father—”

“And I can just as easily make a call to your brother. Dante is it? He’s the older one, right? I could let me see,” I looked up at the ceiling, feigning calculation, “tell him you and I were fighting.”

His face became hard. “What are you getting at?”

“When you left me, instead of thinking of ways to get out, I thought of other ways. I know for a fact that this marriage benefits the Morelli family and whatever your reasons for revenge, you married me because you had to, or your brother told you to. I don’t care. But do you know what your brother told me at the wedding?”

He smirked and his voice was low when he said, “I’m dying to know.”

He seemed surprised by this revelation, but he didn’t show it. I had to tread carefully. “He said, ‘if my brother gives you any trouble, call me and I will end it.’ I thought it was a cute promise but he seemed serious. And I was just thinking I could take him up on that offer. It wouldn’t be very hard to fake a minor bruise. I can even hit myself if I have to.”

He stalked over to where I was standing until we were a few inches away from each other. I should have been scared. There was barely controlled anger radiating from him, and it threatened to come out. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me, you son of a bitch. What? Do you want to make it real? You want to punch me? Go ahead.”

His fists clenched and unclenched. I stood my ground. It’s not like I would go through with framing him. But he thought me to be the worst human on earth, so why disabuse him of that notion? As long as he doesn’t call my bluff, he would assume I have a trigger button of my own and that made us equal.

“Do you really want that job badly?”

“Weren’t you the one who once said I should do something meaningful with my life instead of partying? Well, here I am.”

“You can’t have that job. But,” he took a deep breath, “you can do something else. Different or otherwise. You could start your own magazine for all I care, as long as you don’t go back there. I can even be your angel investor. I can give you a million dollars clean.”

It was my turn to be surprised. “You would do that for me?”

“It would not be for you.”

Of course. It was for his preservation, not because of anything he saw in me. “Why don’t you want me working there, anyway?”

“It’s none of your business.”

“It is the mafia, doesn’t it?”

“Again, none of your business.”

Gears started turning in my head. I recalled Judy getting stressed last year, cutting costs, and claiming she was going to start layoffs soon. Then, only a few months later, all that stress was gone. In fact, we were planning ongoing to Paris fashion week, something that would have been a fantasy last year. I figured it was because the magazine was more profitable than before, but what if she found another source? “Oh, my god. Judy is using mafia money to boost her business, isn’t she?”

He scoffed. “You’ve never lacked brains; I’ll give you that.”

“Your mafia money?”

“Cute, but I deal with the legal side of the family business. And besides, she’s a friend. I would never use her to launder our money.”

“But someone else is? Did you blackmail her?”

“Didn’t need to.”

“Your enemy then. That’s why you don’t want me working there?”

This time, he didn’t respond. Not even with a snark, but I knew I was right. It was all over his face. He looked as if he couldn’t believe I worked it out. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“That’s because our relationship is on a need-to-know basis.”

“Fine. I’ll take the money, as long as it’s clean, and I won’t ask any more questions.”

“It’s not as simple as that, though.”

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