He has another thing coming if he thinks I’m going to just go along with this whole charade. I’m not marrying him. That FBI agent that stopped me last night comes to mind, and for a split second I think about playing Kieran along just to get information out of him. Wait, I already know he killed Tina, I saw him at the salon. I can use that against him at any time.
Chewing on my nails, I look at my now closed door.
But I’m not a rat. I obey the Omerta Law my family set forth. It doesn’t matter how much I want out of the mafia, I have to do it another way. Back against the door, I slide to the floor and let my head fall into my hands, the memory of me being a little girl and my dad telling me over and over how important Omerta was echoing in my head.
Our lips are sealed.
Trust nobody outside our circle.
Omerta is loyalty.KieranMy jaw tics and I have to slip my hands into my pockets to keep myself from barging in that room and strangling her pretty little neck. Turning on my heel, I head back into the kitchen, I need a drink and a fucking bed. I’m exhausted. Running my hands down my face, I look this shithole over again. Why the hell would she come here? She doesn’t look like the type of woman who would sleep in a bed with sheets having less than eight-hundred thread count.
I feel her phone in my pocket and pull it out.
You good?- Dominic
Yes, I reply and slip it back into my pocket.
Heading into the living room, my shoes now covered in dust from this place, I pull a sheet off what looks like a couch and dust soars into the air coating my skin. Coughing, I look at the ugly blue and tan striped couch with gaudy floral imprinting. It’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen. It reminds me of a tablecloth my grandmother used to have back when I was a kid.
Lifting the cushions, I throw them on the ground hoping to get some of the dust and musk off of them. Slipping the sheets off two other chairs and a loveseat, the place doesn’t get any better as far as decorating, but everything looks to be in good shape.
Feeling sweat bead on my forehead, I wipe it with the back of my palm and go to the sink to wash my hands. It’s a plain silver sink, the drain looking rusted out. Turning the cold and hot water on the pipes clank and burp before brown water spews out of the faucet for a few seconds before running clear. Washing my hands, I look out the window at the yard with grass as tall as a child and start to wonder if I should just kidnap Leona and go back to New York, but something deep inside of my chest wants to stay here. Just a day or so. If I have any chance of getting to know who Leona is, it will be here where people aren’t standing over us telling us how we should feel and where we belong in the line of things.
Turning the water off, I open the fridge to find it empty.
Perfect.
Pulling out a heavy metal chair with pink cushioning, I snatch out my phone and look up grocery delivery in the area.
I can’t stay here without food.
Not even an hour later I hear the door to Leona’s room open, her feet pitter-pattering on the floor as she descends from down the hallway. Sitting at the table, I slowly look up at her and sit back in my chair. She’s dressed now, wearing a white loose sleeved shirt and some green shorts. All name brand, I’m sure. Her hair is pulled up letting me see her cheekbones for the first time.
She really is beautiful. It took all the restraint I had not to look at her when she was half-naked earlier.
“How are your balls?” She sneers, sitting in a chair across from me.
I silently scoff, and place my hands on top of the table.
“If you think you’re the first person to knee me then you’re sorely mistaken, piccolo ragazza,” I state, my voice sounding more rugged with me not having any sleep. I’m not ever up at this time, and find the light and sun fucking irritating.
Silence blankets over us, and I find it uncomfortable. I don’t like it. If we only have a couple days to be alone we need to make the most of it.
“Why did you follow me?” Leona finally asks.
My eyes flick to hers.
“No matter the agreement that was made, you are mine. You belong to me. I’m here to make sure our union comes to fruition, for my family and yours,” I explain tersely. A look of disobedience taking over her face.