DeLuca (Mafia Romance)

Present

“Oh, Mia, I almost forgot. I saw the cutest crib set online the other day. Here, I saved the picture,” I said pulling up the camera roll on my phone. I clicked on my most recent picture and handed my phone to Mia. “Scroll through, I saved a couple of them.”

“I love the mustaches, skulls. Yeah, no way Carlo’s going to go for that, are you?” Mia asked.

“No,” Carlo said sternly, glaring at me over the top of his wine glass.

“Can’t blame a girl for trying,” I said with a smirk.

“I like the lime green and black; that works for a girl or a boy,” Mia commentated as she continued to scroll. “Whoa, peaceful Frankie, that’s something you don’t see every day.”

“What?” I asked. Confused, I snatched the phone out of her hand to look at the picture she was talking about. My stomach dropped to the floor when I got a good look at the photo. It was of me, asleep in my bed. Whoever took the picture had been standing over me. The thing was, I didn’t know who took the photo.

“Oh my God. What the fuck?!” I shrieked and threw the phone onto the table as if it’d burned me.

“What is it?” Enzo asked, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

My hands were shaking as I brought them to my mouth. I couldn’t believe it. Who? Why? How? I hadn’t been on a date in over a year, let alone had anyone in my house while I was sleeping. “Someone was in my apartment,” I choked out finally.

“What do you mean?” Carlo asked, snatching the phone off the table before Enzo had a chance. He glared down at the screen, his scowl deepening the longer he stared. “Is there a chance it was someone you knew? Maybe you just forgot?”

“Let me see,” Enzo barked out before he ripped the phone from Carlo’s hand. He stared at the photo for a long while, his face growing harder with each passing second.

I scoffed, “No. No one has been in my apartment in months and there definitely hasn’t been anyone there while I was sleeping. Oh God, the flowers!”

“It’s got to be the same person,” Mia said, her hand unconsciously stroking her swollen belly.

“What flowers?” Enzo asked.

“Last week a bouquet of flowers was delivered to my office. They didn’t have a card or anything so I called the flower shop. When the lady looked up the receipt she told me it was an online order made using a prepaid card, and the only name on the order was John.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Enzo demanded.

“I didn’t think it meant anything,” I said.

“Jesus, do you have any idea who it could be? Old boyfriend?” he asked, spitting out the last part as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.

“No,” I responded automatically.

“No?” Enzo questioned, narrowing his eyes in my direction. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Frankie, even if you don’t think it’s likely, we should check out everyone,” Mia chimed in.

“There isn’t anyone; drop it,” I said firmly.

Enzo was still glaring at me from across the table, as if he didn’t believe me. Well, he could just go fuck himself because there was no way I was going to talk to him about my sex life, or lack thereof.

“Well you can’t stay there; at least, not until we find out what’s going on,” Enzo demanded.

“Excuse me?” I asked, immediately put off by his authoritative tone.

“It’s not safe, Frankie. You need to be where people can keep an eye on you. This isn’t something to take lightly. This guy was in your apartment while you were asleep and you had no idea!” Enzo said, his tone almost accusatory, as if it were my fault some peeping Tom had snuck into my loft.

“Enzo’s right,” Carlo said. “You can stay here.”

“With all due respect, Boss man, you’re my employer-not my dad,” I sneered. “Besides, what am I supposed to do? Move in here forever? If I up and leave my apartment, we might not ever find out who it is.”Material © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Then I’ll stay with you,” Enzo said. His tone suggested that the offer wasn’t up for discussion, but I wasn’t having any of it.

“Like hell you will,” I rallied back.

“Frankie, this isn’t a fucking argument. The answer is no. That’s final!” Enzo barked.

“Well you didn’t exactly ask a question for there to be an answer to now did you? I’m not leaving my apartment and no one is staying with me. I have a gun and I can take care of myself.”

“I’m not going to let you stay by yourself while some psycho is on the loose!”

“Let me? I’m a grown-ass woman! You don’t own me and I don’t take orders from you,” I said, my rage barely controlled as I faced off with the brood of a man sitting across the massive polished wood table. “I don’t need anyone to protect me.”

“That’s bullshit. Stop being so fucking stubborn, Franny.” Enzo heaved a frustrated sigh, scraping his hands roughly over his head. “You need to be smart about this. I need you to be safe.”

Ice ran through my veins at his words. I’d heard those words before. I need you to be safe. He’d said that to me each time he left me, like it was my responsibility to keep him from worrying.

He’d called me Franny, the name he used to call me when we were kids and he wanted to get his way. He was using our past against me, trying to make me remember so he could manipulate me into giving in.

“Please… You haven’t given two shits about me in years,” I snapped and stood from the table, the legs of my chair unpleasantly scraping against the floor. “I’m sorry, I lost my appetite. I’m going to go home. Alone.” Enzo’s eyes narrowed at my accusation; I could see the tick in his jaw indicating his agitation from where I stood.

“You can leave, but I’ll follow you,” he said, his tone almost threatening.

“That’s called stalking, Enzo. I’ve apparently already got one too many of those.”

“I don’t give a shit what you call it, I’m going to protect you!” he growled, his voice was still low but I could see the anger brimming just below the surface.

“You’ve been perfectly fine letting me handle my own shit for years, so why are you all up in my business now?” I demanded.

“Doesn’t matter; I am.”

“Oh, come off it, enough with the hero complex bullshit. You know what? I don’t even give a shit why. You don’t have a right to order me around. You’re off the hook. I’m telling you right now that you don’t have to worry about me.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Why?” I shrieked in frustration.

“Because you’re my fucking wife, that’s why!” Enzo roared, slamming a heavy fist on the table.

Silence filled the room. The shock of everybody at the table was like a living breathing thing. I could feel it in the air. I’d never seen him so angry before, but I didn’t have time to process that because my own rage was taking over.

My face burned with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. His words sliced through me and tears started to prick the back of my eyelids. What an asshole! He knew what bringing that shit up would do to me and he did it anyways.

“You haven’t treated me like your wife in a really long time,” I said coldly. “Don’t hurt yourself trying to start now,” I gritted out before turning and bolting for the door.