Owned (Dellucci Mafia Duet)

I mutter, “What the—?”

“Irish,” Ricardo says, pointing at the safe house through the windshield. The building is to the right, and it’s swarming with suspicious-looking men wearing all-black outfits, their hands nervously gripping their belts where their guns are hidden from the public.

I immediately duck down, scared they might recognize me if they see me. I’m sure Molly and Frank showed a picture of me to each and every one of their men to make sure they knew who to snag.

“It’s overrun,” Mario adds, blinking at the scene a couple of times.

Irish pour out of the building like they’re tearing it down from the inside out, leaving nothing unscathed. But none of the men have taken anything from the place. They must be looking for one thing and one thing only: Me.

“Where do we go now?” Mario mutters, sighing defeated.

“FUCK!” Ricardo yells, and he slams his hands onto the steering wheel hard. “This was our last shot.”

Biting my lip, I ruminate on it for a few seconds.

“No, it wasn’t.”

Both men look at me now like I found the golden ticket.

Mario raises his brow. “Is it safe?”

I shrug. “Only one way to find out.”

Ricardo sighs and shifts the car into reverse. “I’m good as long as we’re out of here.”

“There!” I say, pointing at the building to the left.

Ricardo parks the car on the opposite side of the street and checks the neighborhood before stepping out of the car. Before I can do the same, he’s already opened my door.

“You don’t have to do that,” I say.

“Yes, I do,” Ricardo responds, bringing a blush to my face.

I guess Marcello told him to take care of me like I’m royalty or something.

When Mario gets out of the car, he clears his throat, staring up at the building on the other side of the street. “A church?”

I nod and smile. “C’mon, there’s a back entrance.”

I cross the street with Ricardo and Mario tailing me, both keeping an eye out for any potential attackers. But the Irish don’t know about this place. It’s the one reason Molly and Frank weren’t able to locate me as a child after Marcello pulled me out of that fire. All this time, Andrea has managed to keep me under the radar and out of the hands of the Mafia world without even realizing it. Her secluded way of living protected me, and I am beyond grateful for that.

I just hope she won’t be upset when I ask her to do it for me again.

As I stand in front of the church, I take a deep breath. It’s strange to be back here again so soon, especially with this kind of burden weighing down on me. I pause to rub my belly. Maybe it’s about time I told her too.

We head to the back of the building, where I open the gate to the garden. The back entrance is here, hidden behind a fair amount of bushes and trees.

“And you’re sure this is safe?” Ricardo asks as I open the door a bit too easily.

“Yeah,” I reply with a smirk. “There’s a reason I was able to live and grow up here without Molly and Frank finding me.”

He sighs, reluctantly walking inside to check out the walls covered in webs while I open the door. “If you say so.”

“This way,” I say, walking through a small door in the back that leads to the main area where the pedestal and all the pews are.

Mario’s eyes go from painting to painting. “It is beautiful, I have to say.”

“They’re hand-painted by a local artist,” I reply proudly because I hired them personally to spruce up the building on the inside when it needed a renovation. It brought in a lot more people.

Suddenly, Ricardo stops in his tracks, and I almost bump into him. “Who’s that?”

I peer over his shoulder, and a gigantic smile forms on my face when I see Andrea lighting candles in the corner. She raises her eyes at the men with mistrust, but when she sees me, the look in her eyes softens, and she smiles right back.

“Harper, how nice of you to stop by,” she says, patting down her dress. “I would’ve put on something nicer if I’d known you were coming.”

I immediately push past Ricardo and give her a big hug. “I’m so happy to see you’re okay.”

“Okay? Why wouldn’t I be?” she mutters, coughing a little because I may be squeezing her a little too tight. She pushes me away and grabs my shoulders tight. “Are you in trouble?”

I look down at the tiled floor. “It’s … complicated.”

She grabs my chin and makes me look at her. “You tell me everything that’s bothering you. Everything.”

I nod, but the two men behind me seem skittish. “We’re on the run from the Irish.”

She frowns. “What? But I thought you were with Marcello.”