Married to the mafia boss Series

MICHAEL

I had my wife back.

That was all I cared about.

The weeks since Crash’s death saw a flurry of activity. Everyone worried about a still missing Anthony. All we had to go on was Carmela’s vague description of an Eastern European accent and his leather shoes. My poor wife agonized over Anthony, but I compartmentalized it all. It was hard to ignore what gave me so much joy.

Carmela loved me.

She’d bounced from the incident with Crash a lot faster than I had, shelving that part of her past behind us so quickly it made my head spin. The house echoed with her singing, and she glowed whenever I walked into the room. I woke up to blowjobs. She couldn’t keep her hands off me, and I loved it.

Nothing could get me down.

Not Anthony’s disappearance. Not even dinner with the in-laws.

Carmela’s hand stiffened around my wrist, preventing me from opening the door. She shot me a smoldering look, and then her eyes slid to the backseat.

I grinned, catching on. “You’re kidding.”

“Too shy?”

“Baby, it’s broad daylight. You want me arrested?” I glanced up and down the suburban street. “Or does the danger of that turn you on?”

She leaned in close and nipped my ear. “I want you.”

My slacks tightened as she climbed into the back. I followed, dropping in the seat beside her. She’d already ripped off her panties and straddled me before I’d settled in. She smashed her lips against mine. Her kiss got as hard as a diamond. It was all tongue-pure lust.

“The backseat of an Audi,” I teased. “What are we, teenagers?”

I stopped asking questions when she unzipped me and grabbed my cock. I spent more days laying pipe than working because the second trimester had turned Carmela into a raving sex addict. Ten minutes later, her hands slapped the fogged window as I moaned into her hair. She came soon after, and then we dissolved into the leather seats. Carmela’s phone beeped with text messages as we tidied ourselves.

Then I staggered out of the car. Sweat dotted my shirt, which I tucked into my slacks. Carmela chuckled as she wiped my face free of lipstick.

“Now we’re really late.”

Not that I minded. I had no desire to be here.

My father-in-law’s house was still the place where my brother had died, no matter how complicated our relationship had been. Hanging out here didn’t feel right, and neither did rubbing elbows with Ignacio, but I wanted to tell him the news.

Carmela slipped her hand into mine, her cheeks flushed. “Am I decent?”

“The just-fucked look suits you.”

Carmela sighed, letting that roll off her shoulders. We headed to the mansion, and I knocked on the door.

Maria answered. “We’re already eating!”

“Yeah, I know. So sorry.” I stepped in, waving at everyone in the dining room. “Fucking traffic.”

Alessio looked up from his chicken cacciatore and smirked. He laughed, drawing questioning looks from his clueless wife and our mother-in-law. Ignacio stood, his voice blistering.

“At my house, you show up on time, or you don’t eat at all.”

Fine by me.Content rights belong to NôvelDrama.Org.

I lurched toward the door until Carmela shot me a plea, which worked too well.

Maria manhandled us into seats. Baby Lexy sat in a highchair, mashing spaghetti into her face. I buried a stab of annoyance at Alessio’s presence. As far as I was concerned, his inaction had set forth a devastating chain of consequences that resulted in Anthony being sold into slavery and Carmela’s horrific trauma. Helping me take care of that asshole didn’t undo the damage.

Mia and Carmela were always trying to get us talking. They invited us to the same events. Alessio and I ignored each other. Occasionally, we bickered. Sometimes it made Carmela burst into tears.

And I couldn’t have that.

So I told her I wasn’t doing it anymore.

Unfortunately, Carmela could rope me into anything.

I refused a seat. “Ignacio, we should talk.”

“Can it wait until after dinner?”

“It won’t be long.”

Ignacio sighed, wiping his mouth. He ruffled Lexy’s glossy hair as he passed, grabbing his wine. He drank deeply as he strolled into his study. I followed, closing the door.

“What is it?”

I unlocked my phone and showed him the photo. “Here’s the first.”

“Holy shit.” Ignacio grasped my hand, yanking the cell toward him. “That’s him. Crash.”

“Yeah, what’s left of the prick.”

I’d instructed my men to desecrate his body, and I had wheeled his bike into the Bay. Watching his beloved Harley sink into the water was cathartic. Carmela and I kept the details about her kidnapping quiet. She didn’t want her parents to worry and had no desire to relive those twenty-four-hours.

“When did this happen?”

“A few weeks ago. I’ve been busy.” Plus, I didn’t exactly relish more time with Ignacio.

“You did it,” he said, sounding bewildered. “You fucking did it.”

“Say that I’m useless.”

“You’re not. I’m sorry. Thank you, Michael. You have no idea what a load off my mind this is-”

“Stop begging Carmela to have us over. I don’t want to be in your life. You still murdered my brother.”

Ignacio wiped his face, and I looked away.

“I never wanted to hurt him.”

My throat tightened. I couldn’t do this.

He grabbed my wrist before I headed out.

I shoved him into the bookshelf. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“I’ll tell you what happened. It might cost me, but I owe you.” He gestured at the seat. “Sit.”

“I’ll stand.”

Ignacio backed onto his desk, suddenly tired. “I didn’t want to murder your brother. Nico asked me to do it. One of his associates approached me. Said to keep my mouth shut because you couldn’t find out that Daniel was a snitch. They claimed he was a CI.”

What the hell?

My head jerked up. “Are you fucking with me?”

He shook his head. “I had nothing against Daniel.”

I believed him. He had the same tells as Carmela.

My brother was a snitch.

My insides collapsed, and I sagged on the chair. It was a blow to all I’d known about my brother. The pieces fell like dominos-Uncle Nico using the guy under my brother’s protection to assassinate him, and Ignacio’s bullheadedness.

“Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

“Your uncle’s instructions were very clear.” Ignacio’s eyes glazed over as he stared beyond me. “I think he was trying to spare you.”

As though being in the dark made it any better.

“Does my cousin know?”

I doubted it. Uncle Nico knew we were close. Vinn would’ve shared that information in an instant.

“No idea. I’m sorry, kid.” Ignacio patted my shoulder.

He tried to drag me into a hug, but I pushed him aside and burst from the office, following my wife’s bubbly voice into the dining room, where she tucked into chicken cacciatore. Her eyes sparkled with happiness. I didn’t want to ruin it, so I left the house.

I slumped on the porch steps and buried my head in my hands.

Seconds later, the door opened. She sat next to me.

“Go back inside. Finish your dinner,” I said.

“What about you?”

“I’ll walk around the neighborhood.”

My face heated, her disappointment leadening my guts. I’d already upset Carmela by refusing to bring the kids to Ignacio’s place. After Crash and Julian, I needed to wait until I was certain they’d be secure.

Carmela leaned on me. “What about Alessio?”

Too bad I didn’t have kinder words for my brother-in-law. “We don’t get along.”

“You know I love the way you defend me, but I wish you’d forgive Alessio. Please.”

“I just can’t.”

“I’ve forgiven him. I want you to do the same.”

“I can’t, babe.” I pressed my mouth into her frown until her lips softened. “He needs to earn my forgiveness.”

“Hasn’t he?”

I shrugged. “He helped me take out the trash. That’s not good enough.”

Carmela kissed me hard, her eyes blazing. “I love you.”

Warmth bloomed in my chest.

God, that never got old.