Married to the mafia King

Dario

I was still brooding over the Turk’s visit an hour after the Turk left.

I was sitting in my study when Niccolo walked in, his face pale.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“There was a shooting in Florence,” he replied.

For the first time in a long while, I felt fear

Panic.

“Alessandra?!” I asked as I bolted up from my chair.

“She’s fine,” Niccolo said, then added drily, “although your concern for your brothers is touching.”

I gave him a look like Don’t fuck with me right now. “Are they alright?”

“Valentino is. Massimo was shot.”

I stared at him. “How bad is it?”

“He says it’s through-and-through, no severe damage but I’m having them meet a gunshot doctor at a safe house run by the Agrellas.”

“NO. Tell him to get back here now.”

Niccolo looked angry. “If this is about protecting Alessandra ”

“How do we know the Agrellas weren’t behind the hit?”

“We don’t, but they ”

“Haven’t violated our arrangement in over 20 years is that what you were going to say?”

“Let me guess what you’re going to say,” Niccolo snapped. “That it’s incredibly suspicious the Agrellas are doing business with the man you just turned down an hour ago.”

“If it’s a coincidence, it’s the worst one I’ve ever seen. Do we know where the Turk’s base of operations is?”

Niccolo shook his head. “No and his car is probably out of reach by now.”

“The Agrellas aren’t,” I snarled. “We know exactly where they are.”

“The Agrellas could have hired some out-of-town hitters to take out Valentino and Massimo, it’s true,” Niccolo admitted. “Or they might have agreed to let the Turk’s men take a shot. Either is possible but I just spoke to the Agrellas’ consigliere, and he offered us one of their safe houses. If their family does something out in the open that hurts Massimo or Valentino, it’s full-out war. The Agrellas aren’t stupid enough to risk that.”

“Unless they’re like the Turk and think Papa’s death made us weak,” I said. “Are you really going to bet Massimo and Valentino’s lives on that?”

Niccolo narrowed his eyes. “And Alessandra’s life, too? Or did you just conveniently leave her name out?”

“Get them back here immediately. Call the cops to make sure they’re not stopped. Get them a new car if theirs is shot up. Do whatever it takes but we’re not trusting the Agrellas on this.”

Niccolo shook his head as he pulled out his phone and dialed. “Prison made you paranoid you know that?”

“If you’re going to be a wartime consigliere, brother, you had better get a lot more paranoid,” I snapped.

Niccolo glared at me, then turned away. “Massimo? New plan…”

Alessandra

Lars and ten of the family’s foot soldiers met us halfway back to the house. They were waiting in three new cars by the side of the road, and most of the men were heavily armed.

There was a man with them who was apparently a doctor. While Lars kept guard, the doctor checked out Massimo and hooked up an IV and bag of saline to his arm. Then he cut open Massimo’s shirt with a razor so he could inspect the wound.

“Is he going to be alright?” I asked anxiously.

“No more shootouts for a while, but he’ll be fine,” the doctor assured me. “The bullet didn’t even go through a muscle basically just through skin and fat.”

“Hey are you calling me fat?” Massimo said with fake umbrage.

Lars grinned. “Don’t worry. We know you’re just big-boned.”

While the doctor bandaged up Massimo, everyone talked by the roadside.

“Thank you,” I told Massimo for the dozenth time.

He gave me a lopsided smile. “Eh, it was nothing.”

“You saved my life. That’s not ‘nothing.'”

“Hey, I got the car,” Valentino said humorously. “I’d just like to point out we’d all be dead if it wasn’t for that.”

“Thank you, too,” I said, playing along.

“It’s nothing,” he said with jokey fake modesty. “Just as long as everybody realizes who the real hero is.”

“Fuck you,” Massimo said with a laugh. “You didn’t get shot.”

“Yeah, because I was smart enough not to.”

“If intelligence kept a man from getting shot, you would have gotten your brains blown out.”

Valentino grinned. “Probably.”

“And there wouldn’t have been a noticeable difference in your IQ, either,” Massimo joked.

“Hey as long as they didn’t shoot off my dick.”

“Gotta have your priorities straight,” Lars said with a grin.

“Actually,” Valentino said, “my theory is I didn’t get shot because I’m not as big of a target as Massimo.”

“Is that so,” Massimo said sarcastically.

Valentino pointed at me. “Tiny target didn’t get shot.”

Then he pointed at himself. “Bigger target didn’t get shot.”

Then he pointed at Massimo. “Gigantic fucking target got shot. I’d say the conclusion is obvious.”

“I think it’s because you run as fast as a frightened little squirrel,” Massimo said.

“That could be part of it,” Valentino agreed. Then he grinned and pointed at his face. “But I had to run fast gotta keep this pretty for the ladies.”

“You’re saying I’m not pretty?” Massimo asked.Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

“Let’s just say that a couple of bullets to the face might improve your appearance.”

Once the doctor said Massimo was okay, Valentino, Lars, Massimo, and I got into a limousine. One of the foot soldiers drove the bullet-riddled Mercedes back to the mansion.

“This is serious, you know,” Lars said to Massimo as we all rode in the back of the limo.

“I know,” Massimo replied.

“What, you getting shot up?” I said facetiously. I was amazed they were so blase about it. “I’d say it’s just a little bit serious.”

“No, not that,” Massimo said. “Niccolo arranged for us to go to a safe house run by another family but then he called back and said no, come back to the mansion instead.”

“Which means…?”

“Which means he doesn’t trust our allies in Florence,” Lars explained. “And if that’s the case, it’s very serious.”

“How serious?” I asked, my stomach sinking.

“Betrayal,” Massimo said. “The end of a 20-year alliance… potentially all-out war.”

I’d thought it couldn’t get any worse than an attempt on our lives

But from the way Valentino, Massimo, and Lars were acting, apparently it could.

When our limousine arrived back at the house, there were a dozen armed men out front.

All the remaining brothers were waiting for us Dario, Niccolo, Adriano, and Roberto.

One of the armed men opened the limousine door for me.

As soon as I stepped out, Dario was right there.

He gently touched my cheek and asked, “Are you alright?”

The tenderness and concern in his voice…

…it was so unlike him.

Suddenly the entire experience hit me again.

The sound of gunshots and breaking glass

The terror of thinking I was about to die.

My eyes welled up, and I nodded.

Dario drew me to him and wrapped his arms around me.

“You’re safe now,” he murmured in my ear. “You’re safe.”

Adriano helped Massimo out of the back of the limousine. Lars tried to help him back to the house, but Massimo brushed him off.

“Fuck you,” he said with good humor. “I’m not a 98-year-old grandma.”

“Yeah, I don’t know any 98-year-old grandmas that weigh 280 pounds,” Lars replied.

Dario left my side just long enough to hug both Valentino and Massimo. “I’m glad you’re both alright.”

Massimo brushed it off. “Meh… I’ve had stubbed toes worse than this.”

“He saved my life,” I said.

Everyone turned to look at me.

I blushed at being the center of attention… but I kept going.

“They both did,” I continued. “Valentino ran to get the car, but Massimo put himself between me and the gunmen. He’s the only reason I’m still alive.”

“Then I have twice as much to thank you for,” Dario said as he patted Massimo’s cheek.

“It was nothing,” the big man said shyly.

Valentino coughed humorously to lighten the mood. “I’d say getting the car was absolutely crucial.”

“Don’t forget running like a frightened squirrel,” Massimo replied.

“That, too,” Valentino agreed.

Dario clapped Valentino on the shoulder. “Excellent work.”

Valentino acted like he was brushing off the compliment… then grinned. “I know.”

Dario came back and put his arm around me.

I was shocked at his open show of affection for me in front of his brothers…

…but I welcomed it all the same.

“Well, consigliere?” Massimo said. “You’re uncharacteristically silent.”

“That’s because Dario thinks we may be at war,” Niccolo said.

“Yeah,” Massimo sighed, “that’s what we figured.”

“What happened in the meeting?” Valentino asked.

“Let’s go inside to trade stories,” Niccolo said. “There’s a lot to talk about.”

As he led the way back inside the house, Dario kept his arm around my waist and never let go.