Arranged Mafia Marriage

Michael

She sinks down onto the floor of the bathroom next to the commode. I place the wet cloth on her forehead, “How are you feeling?”

I had brought my wife home from the hospital two days ago, and since that vomiting bout at the hospital bathroom she hasn’t stopped puking.

“How do you think?” She scowls back at me, before launching up again on her knees and hanging over the bowl. When she finishes retching, she collapses against the wall. “I am dying,” she groans, “I am never going to make it through the next few months.”

I flush away the evidence of her being sick, then gently pat her mouth, “The doctor said the morning sickness should fade by the end of the first trimester.”

“Considering I am only a few weeks along, that doesn’t comfort me very much.” She scowls, “Besides, I don’t trust him or his diagnosis.”

When Aurora’s role in my wife’s escape had emerged, I’d wanted to make her pay for it. I’d come very close to pulling my gun on her, except Christian had stepped in. He’d insisted I spare her life, which I had. He’d wanted me to let her return to her previous life, which I had decided was unacceptable. The result is that she’s currently locked up in a room in one of my safe houses while I figure out what to do with her. I can’t simply let her go; that would weaken my reputation and my ability to stake my claim as Don when the time comes. On the other hand, I can’t kill her, since I promised Christian I won’t. However, there is no way I am letting her treat my wife. I’ve lost my faith in Aurora and I can’t imagine any circumstance under which I would allow her anywhere near Beauty. The result is that I had a specialist flown in from Rome-had ordered him to relocate to be near us so he can come when needed.

“He’s a perfectly capable doctor.”

“I prefer Aurora.”

“Considering she let you down when you needed her help to escape, I am surprised you want to be treated by her.”

Beauty hesitates, “I admit, I was pissed off at her, at first, but I guess I do understand why she did it. I just don’t understand why she didn’t tell me I was pregnant, as well.”Belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

“Maybe she was trying to protect you and the child?” I raise a shoulder. “Frankly, I don’t give a rat’s ass about her intentions. She alerted me in the nick of time. Else not only would we not be here having this conversation, but I doubt she’d have made it out of that hospital alive.”

She pales further and I curse myself. I really need to curb my vocabulary when I am around her in this state. Since finding out she’s pregnant, Karma has done an about face. It’s as if all of her hidden emotions and sensitivities have come to the fore. She’s become needy, absent-minded, and also, possessive. None of which I mind. She’s also been very sick. Enough to make me think she might need to be admitted to the hospital a couple of times. Except, no way, am I letting her out of my sight.

Instead, I had arranged for the hospital to come to her. I had a complete suite in my home converted to a hospital room…which will also serve as the birthing room, when the time comes. Yeah, also a team of doctors and nurses are on-call around the clock, in case of any emergency. No, I am not being over-the-top about this… I am just being safe. No way, am I taking any chances when it comes to my wife’s health or of that of my unborn child. I reach forward and push the hair away from her forehead. “How are you feeling now?”

“Hungry.” She scowls. “I wish my body would make up its mind. One minute, I am puking my guts out; the next moment, I am starving like I haven’t eaten in days.”

“Well, you are eating for two.”

“More like I am eating for a crowd,” She pouts as she pushes up to standing. Her color is better and she definitely seems stronger than even a few seconds ago. Her ability to recover from these bouts of puking never ceases to amaze me. All in all, since discovering she’s pregnant, she’s been too preoccupied with trying to keep up with the changes to her body to think of trying to escape… Or at least, I hope so.

I reach for her and scoop her up in my arms. She frowns, “I can walk, you know.”

“Indulge me,” I murmur as I walk out of the bathroom, past the bed in our bedroom, and down the stairs to the kitchen. When I found out she was pregnant, I moved her to my house on the outskirts of Palermo. Not the one I normally use, but the one I bought many years ago, with the hope of, one day, using it as a base for my family. The location of this place is known to only my brothers, and the closest members in my clan.

It’s away from the city, which means she’s also out of reach of our rivals. Not to mention that with the security I have placed about it, we’d spot anyone coming from a mile off.

Once in the kitchen, I place her at a chair at the dining table, then busy myself making breakfast. I sense her gaze on me as I move around, popping the bread in the toaster and whipping up the eggs for an omelet. I plate out the toast and the omelets for both of us, place them on the table, then pour her a glass of orange juice.

When I slip into the seat in front of her, she stares at me.

“What?” I arch an eyebrow, “Everything okay?”

She nods, “Everything is fine. Maybe too fine.”

“What do you mean?” I jerk my chin at her plate and she begins to butter her toast before cutting a piece of her omelet and bringing it to her mouth. She finishes almost all of the food on her plate before she leans back and surveys me with a gaze.

“I don’t understand why you are being this nice to me.”

“I am always nice to you, Beauty.”

“You weren’t very nice to me when we first met.”

“I didn’t know you as well as I do now.”

“You think you know me well?” She arches an eyebrow, mirroring my earlier gesture.

I smirk as I cut into my omelet and continue eating.

“Well?” She prods, “Do you think you know me well?”

“I think…” I pause as I survey her features, “I know you well enough, to allow you access to your phone again.”

She huffs, “That doesn’t mean anything. You allowed me access to my phone earlier, as well.”

“Until you insisted on showing me that you couldn’t be trusted,” I glower.

“So, you trust me now?”

“Nope.”

She gapes, “So you don’t trust me now?”

“Not an inch, my darling Beauty.” I place my knife and fork on the plate, before I push my chair back, “However, I do trust you enough to give you…” I slide my palm inside my pocket, pull out her ring.

“Oh,” her chest heaves.

I go down on one knee in front of her-only because it’s the only way to reach for her fingers as I slide the ring onto her left ring finger.

She draws in a breath. “I really don’t understand you,” she murmurs as she raises the fingers of her left hand.

“What do you not understand?” I push back a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“You say you don’t trust me, yet you give me back my ring… I mean, your ring.” She glances up at me, “Why would you do that?”

“Because you are my wife?” I cup her cheek, “And the mother-to-be of my child.”

“This child means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”

I tilt my head, “As do you.”

“Do I?”

“Do you doubt my word?”

“You just said that you don’t trust me…so…”

“I don’t have to trust you to-” love you. Shit, did I almost say that aloud? I rise to my feet, and she grabs my hand.

“To-?” She tips up her chin, “What were you going to say?”

“To acknowledge you as my wife,” I reply and her features fall.

“Oh, right.”

I pull my hand away from her grasp, then nod to her plate, “You didn’t finish your breakfast.”

“I…I’m not hungry anymore.”

“Have you told your sister yet that you are pregnant?”

She whips her head around to stare at me, “You’d be okay with that?”

“Of course.”

“As well as if I told her that I am married?”

“Wouldn’t expect you to say one without the other.”

She screws her features, “See, this is what I mean?”

“What?”

“You being nice to me… It’s weird.”

“I don’t see why that should surprise you so much.”

“It’s just…” She waves her hand in the air, “All this conversation, your cooking meals for me, taking care of me when I am sick… It’s just…”

“Normal?”

She frowns, “In a way, and that weirds me out even more.”

“So, you find it weird that we are actually getting along, and that you are not trying to escape me anymore?”

Her shoulders slump and I curse myself. Why the hell did I have to bring that up? Just as I was thinking that she was settling in here and she also seemed content, I had to go and spoil it all, eh? Che diavolo!

“I am not trying to escape you because, for some reason, I seem to be forgetting exactly why I wanted to get away from you in the first place.”

My heart begins to race. “You are, eh?” I say softly.

“It’s all your fault,” She lowers her chin as she proceeds to polish off the remaining food on her plate. Then she takes a couple of sips of the orange juice from her glass before turning to me. “You’re making me too comfortable here.”

Good.

“You’re spoiling me by how you take care of me.”

That’s the idea, tesoro mio.

“You’re…” her chin wobbles, “you’re confusing me, you know that? You’re tying me up in knots, you’re messing with my head, you…you…” her voice catches, tears slide down her cheeks, and my heart stutters.

It fucking stutters. I squat down in front of her, frame her cheeks with my hands, “Don’t cry, Beauty.”

She sniffles, even as she turns her head away from me, “You think I want to cry, you ass? It’s these stupid hormones. They are all over the place, and half the time, I can’t even understand why things set me off when they do, without any warning. I am making a fool of myself in front of you, and I still can’t stop bawling, damn it.” She balls her fingers into fists as I pull her into my arms. She stays rigid as I rub her back. She refuses to unbend as I haul her into my chest.

I hold her there until her muscles slowly unwind, one by one. When her breathing has evened out, I finally pull away from her. “Better?” I ask as she blinks away her tears.

“Sort of,” she mumbles, as she reaches for the tissues on the table in front of her and blows her nose. I rise to my feet again, and keep a hand on her shoulder as she pushes back her chair and gets up as well.

“So, you going to call your sister?”

She shakes her head.

“Why not?”

“I am not ready to talk to her about…,” she gestures to the space between us.

“Why not?”

“Hell, I am still digesting the fact that I am not only married but already pregnant, so please…” she tosses her hair. “Just give me a little time, okay?”

“Hmm.” I stare into her features and she scowls back at me.

“I hate the sound of that hmm!”

“Hmm…” I scratch my chin. “Is it just time you need, or is it something else?”

“Like what?” She brushes past me, then heads out of the kitchen and down the corridor to the study, which is where she spends a lot of her time these days. When I had furnished the space with all of my favorite books, I’d had no idea then that my wife, the mother-to-be of my child, would love the space so much. If I’d known, I’d have made sure to have books which were more to her liking on the shelves… Not that she has complained about my taste in literature so far.

I follow her down the hall and watch as she sinks down onto the settee in front of the fire, then pulls her legs up under her.

“What else would I need?”

“You tell me,” I murmur as I lean a hip against the back of the chair near her.

“No, why don’t you tell me?” She scoffs, “Since you seem to think that you can read my mind or something.” She sniffs.

“Maybe you are ashamed to be married to the Mafia? Maybe you don’t want to tell your family that you are carrying the child of a criminal?” I lower my chin, “May…be…you are hoping that if you wait long enough, things will go back to the way they used to be?”

She flushes, then glances away from me, “Honestly, I want to deny all of that, but-” She raises a shoulder. “I won’t deny that all of those thoughts have gone through my mind,” she murmurs, “but I also know things aren’t just going to go back to being what they were.”

“Do you?” I cross the floor to stand in front of her, “Do you understand that you are my wife and I am not letting you go? Ever? That this child is the one thing that can ensure that my bid for Don is sealed?

She starts, “So that’s the only reason you want this child? Because he or she guarantees your position as the head of the Cosa Nostra?”

I stare into her now flushed features, “What other reason could there be?”