Page 13 of The Don's Prisoner

The Uber pulled up in front of my building, and I handed the man in the front seat a twenty-dollar bill, which he thanked me for. I got out of the car and looked up at the tall, concrete apartment building.

“Just do a good job and don’t make me regret it, Guy. I’ll talk to you later,” I told him and hung up.

Soon thereafter I was lounging in my pajamas on my plush cozy sofa in my living room watching a romcom movie I had seen a million times. I mostly had it on so I could tune into it when I wanted to, but I really wasn’t paying close attention. On the coffee table, I had an open pint of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream, from which I had been scooping bites of the cherry chocolate goodness for the past fifteen minutes and managed to give myself a brain freeze.

I was wrapped up in the afghan blanket my mother had made for me when I was little, wondering what the hell I should do.

I had the strangest urge to call my mother, whom I rarely called, not out of dislike, but because I knew she was very busy. She hadn’t retired yet, so she was working all hours as a surgeon while my dad helped build bridges and took care of roadways for the city. Both of them were never home and didn’t have much time for their adult children, which was fine with me because I was pretty busy myself.

Normally, if I had an issue I needed to talk about, I would call my brother, but I really didn’t want to talk to him right now. In fact, I didn’t know if I would talk to him, voluntarily, ever again. It was a shame because, besides him, I really had no one outside of work that I spent any amount of time with. And at work, I was the boss. No one there was actually my friend. Guy and Caroline came the closest, but I didn’t want to talk to either of them about personal stuff, especially since they were both such big gossips. The more I could keep them at arm’s length, the better.

That left my new boyfriend, Rex. But I certainly couldn’t complain to him about how I was apparently now engaged to a member of the mob. And not just any member either—the Don’s son!

Shit, Vito. What the hell did you get me into?

I let my head fall onto the back of the couch and let reality sink in for a while. My brain went over my situation time and time again until I got a headache, but I had no further clue as to what I was going to do.

I was going to have to plan a wedding, I guess. Because the alternative was to watch my brother die.

I groaned and covered my head with the afghan.

That was when my phone buzzed on the coffee table. I leaned forward to pick it up and saw I had gotten a text message… from Giovanni De Carlo.

Gio: I’m taking you to lunch tomorrow. What do you like to eat?

I seriously thought about throwing my phone out of the twenty-story-building window, but I figured that would only set me back a grand for a new phone. Also, my whole life was on that phone. I really couldn’t afford to lose it. So, I decided I would reply instead of ignoring him. He had probably already seen that I had read the message anyway.

Me: I’m working tomorrow, I can’t go to lunch.

Gio: Sure you can. Just tell your boss you need to leave for your hour break.

Me: I don’t have a boss. I AM the boss.

Gio: Even better. I’ll come get you at noon.

Gio: Where do you work?

Me: You will not. I’m not having lunch with you.

Me: I already told you, I have work to do

Gio: You don’t eat while you are working?

Me: No.

Gio: Well, that will have to change.

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

Me: What, now you think you can control when I eat?

Gio: I expect my fiancée to take care of herself, yes.

Me: I do take care of myself.

Gio: Not if you aren't eating lunch.

Gio: Do you work out?

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