Conquered by the Mafia Boss

“I’m not gonna hurt you, hon. Who did this to you?”

Tears slowly well in my eyes because the first person to show concern for me is the man who probably killed my father. I glance at Rafael, whose features are taut with rage.

“N-nobody. It was an accident. I fell on some icy steps on the subway.”

Oh what a lame lie. You can’t think of something better?

It doesn’t fool Vinny. His hand drops from my face and he turns around to look at Rafael’s smooth, unconcerned one.

“You did this?”

“He didn’t!” Oh God.

“Of course not.”

But his tone is way off. I’m his girlfriend. If he didn’t do it, he should be apoplectic with rage. He should be throwing chairs across the room and screaming that how dare someone touch his girl. Instead, he just stands there. It’s as though he doesn’t care if Vince puts two and two together.

Vinny turns around, his fists clenched. “You’ve got some fucking nerve, lying to a boss.”

Rafael crosses his arms and makes a brave attempt at a smile. “It’s my fault she’s a klutz?”

The boss takes several strides toward him and Rafael’s fist tightens around the pool cue, and then suddenly Vinny’s fist smashes against the side of Rafael’s skull. My screams echo in the room as he topples to the ground with a cry of outrage.

No, no, no! He’s going to make it worse for me.

“I didn’t do shit to her!”

Enraged, Vinny brings back his foot and kicks out hard. Rafael’s face contorts with pain as his mouth makes a horrible, gasping sound.

“You want to fucking lie to me again? Huh?”

Rafael turns to his side and snarls at the boss. “What the fuck do you care about Jack’s daughter? I’m a fucking made guy, you have no right!”

The other men grab Vinny’s arms before he can do more damage, even though the boss looks as if he would like nothing better than to beat him to death.

“Degenerate fuck. Do it again, and you’ll be fucking sorry.”

He makes other furious moves toward Rafael, but the guys shove him back.

“Vince, calm down.”

They let him go and Vinny stands there for a moment, chest heaving. Then he runs a hand through his dark hair and walks away from Rafael, who picks himself off the floor and gives me a murderous look. I turn away from him, shaking, and almost jump when I feel Vinny’s hand on my shoulder.

“Come, I’ll get you some meat for your ma.”

Numb shock propels my feet forward, through the doors, and into the cafe. “Vince, I-he was telling the truth. He didn’t hit me.”

Energetic, black eyes cut right through me. “You don’t have to lie to me. People don’t get bruises like that from falling down. You don’t have to stay with him, either.”

Something in his voice compels me to drop the bullshit and just tell him the truth. Maybe it’s the faint anger I feel rustling in my chest. I don’t know if I want to accept help from the man who, well, murdered my father.

You killed my dad.

“If I leave, he’ll kill me. I don’t have anywhere else to go, anyway.”

The clerk behind the counter hands me a large package of deli meat wrapped in paper and I take it. “Thanks, Vincent.”

“Hey, wait-”

My face already burns with the hopelessness of it all, and I shrug off his hand on my shoulder and head toward the icy storm outside, hoping that it’ll swallow me.

The door opens.

It’s the worst sound in the world-a sound that fills me with terror, a sound that makes me want to scurry to the bathroom and lock the door. I dread it every day. Dread the moment his boots walk through the threshold, and even worse is the noise when he slams it shut because he’s always pissed these days.

Just go away. Just leave me alone.

But he won’t, especially after today.

I sink into the leather couch, hoping that I’ll become invisible. I stare straight ahead into the burning TV screen. Maybe there’s something on it that will distract him from his rage. I try to think back to when the sight of his face made me feel warm instead of cold with fear. He was never like this when Dad was alive-never laid a hand on me. He would never have dared-Dad would have killed him. We used to talk about getting engaged.

A painful twitch on my face makes me grimace.

“Are you fuckin’ laughing?”

I turn my head around painfully. His once-handsome face seems wasted away by rage. The leather jacket he wears makes him look like a cartoon villain, and I think for a moment how funny the whole thing is. Me, the boss’s daughter, stripped down to nothing but some whore for him to use and abuse. Whose own sister resents her for being the favorite, and won’t even save her from her abusive boyfriend.

It’s not really that funny.

“I’m not.”

The shorter my responses are, the better.

Don’t even look at him.

“You humiliated me in front of the people I work with. Do you have any fucking idea how bad that is?”

The sound of his footsteps makes me cringe, and then finally he stands in front of me, blocking the TV. I’m still paralyzed with memories from the past, refusing to confront the ugly present. He stoops down and makes me. He seizes my painful jaw, forcing it upward.

“Look at me, you fucking cunt.”

“I didn’t mean to, Raf. I swear to God, I was just there for deli meat.”

He sneers at me. “And you needed to see Vincent for that? Fucking liar.”

A heavy hand slaps the wound on my face, sending me flying. He laughs as I catch myself on the couch. A surge of poisonous rage runs through my veins that I’m unable to act on.

Oh, what I would give to make the son of a bitch suffer like I have.