The Mafia King’s Doll

Tori

After Angelo tells everyone to leave, even Tiny and Big Ricky, I find myself alone in the living room with my new husband.

God, this is not what I meant when I said I’d do anything if you’d help me out of the impossible situation with Giorgio.

Angelo removes his tuxedo jacket and drapes it over the back of a couch. “Sit down, Vittoria.”

I walk to the other side of the coffee table, so it’s between us, and cautiously take a seat on one of the black couches.

The tree’s branches throw ominous shadows through the glass ceiling, and it makes a shiver creep up my spine.

What do I do? How do I even begin to process this nightmare?

Panic keeps flaring hot in my chest, and with every passing second, my dread grows.

Angelo doesn’t join me immediately, but instead, he walks to a side table where a bottle of whiskey stands. He pours the brown liquid into two tumblers, and picking them up, he brings a glass to me.

“Drink every drop. It will help settle your emotions.”

Like he cares about how I feel.

I down the alcohol to appease him, and it burns a path down my throat, making me cough while my eyes tear up.

Angelo takes a seat across from me, the coffee table between us. For a moment, he enjoys the whiskey before he rests the tumbler on his knee.

He looks at me, and I feel the punch of his intense gaze in the pit of my stomach.

“We need to discuss a few things.”

Yeah, we do.

He pulls the bowtie free from around his neck and tosses the black fabric onto the coffee table. Letting out a sigh, he relaxes back against the couch, and it’s the most casual I’ve ever seen him.

“You’ll be loyal to me.”

I nod because that’s a given.

“And I’ll be loyal to you.” My eyebrow lifts, and it has him asking, “Have you lost your ability to speak?”

“No.” Maybe it’s because of the nightmarish rollercoaster ride I’ve been on the past two weeks, but I can’t keep myself from snapping, “I wasn’t aware what I said mattered. Up until this point, I haven’t had any choices where my life is concerned.”

To my utter surprise, the corner of Angelo’s mouth lifts into a smirk. “You’ve always had a choice, Vittoria. Even tonight.”

A huff escapes me, and I shake my head. “Right. Either I marry you, or I die. Great choice.”

“That wasn’t the choice I offered you.” He leans forward and places the tumbler of whiskey on the coffee table before resting his elbows on his thighs. “You had a choice between marrying me or giving your virginity to me before being forced to marry another man.”

There’s a stab of heartache from how low Giorgio was willing to sink for money.

Angelo’s features tighten with an emotion I can’t place, then he says, “By marrying you, I kept you from suffering a worse fate.”

My shoulders slump, and I put the empty tumbler down on the table before covering my face with my hands.

If Giorgio had gotten his way…

I shake my head to rid myself of the dark thoughts.

Angelo is right, but I can’t bring myself to thank him, because it doesn’t feel like I have anything to be grateful for.

Lowering my hands, I meet his eyes again.

He stares at me for a few seconds, then says, “We will have a normal marriage.”

Sex…

My mind comes to a screeching halt, and I wrap my arm around my stomach as my lips part in a gasp. My voice is hoarse when I whisper, “We have to consummate the marriage.”

Angelo’s eyes narrow on me for a moment, but then the impossible happens, and his features soften with something akin to empathy.

He shakes his head once, then murmurs, “I’m not going to force you to have sex with me.”

It doesn’t matter. We’ve said our vows. I’m bound to this man until death do us part. It’s my duty as his wife to share his bed.

I turn my head and stare at the black screen of the TV as I say, “We have to consummate our marriage. It’s the right thing to do.”

“Look at me,” he orders. My eyes snap back to him.

He shakes his head at me. “The last thing I want is a traumatized wife who feels I violated her. I’m too busy to deal with that kind of shit.”

Even though his words are cold, they offer me a sense of comfort.

I do have a choice.

I stare at Angelo…my husband, and whisper, “Thank you.” A frown forms on his forehead. “For what?”

“Not forcing yourself on me.”

He slumps back against the couch, and when he rolls his shoulders, I hear a crack.

Whether I like it or not, we’re married. Honestly, if I had to choose between being married before losing my virginity or being forced to sleep with Angelo and then marrying another…there is no choice.

My tongue darts out to wet my lips before I say, “I’ve made a vow, and I intend to keep it. I’ll be your wife in every sense of the word.” When he just stares at me, I add, “But I have one request.”

“What?”

“No kissing me on the mouth.”

A frown line appears between his eyes as he mutters, “Why?”

“It’s the one thing I’d like to keep until I’ve developed feelings for you.”

He thinks about my request, then nods. “I’ll respect your no-kissing rule.”

“Thank you.”

When silence falls between us, I start to feel nervous and fidget with the silky fabric of my expensive gown.

Tilting my head, my eyes flit to Angelo, who’s still staring at me. “Did you buy this dress for me?”

He just nods.

While we’re on the subject of clothes…

“I assume I have to move my belongings to your house?”

He shakes his head. “My men already brought your clothes over.

Everything’s in the main bedroom.”

My eyes widen with surprise as I gasp, “What? When?”

“During the ceremony.” He lets out a tired sign. “The moment you left home, they went in to gather your things.”

Holy crap, this man does not waste time.

I nod, and when silence falls between us again, I glance around the room and whisper, “You have a beautiful home.”

“It’s your mansion as well.” Angelo stands up, and picking up his jacket, he pulls his cell phone out of the breast pocket. “Make yourself at home while I’m out.”

“Out?” I sit up straighter. “On our wedding night?”

He glances at me as he unlocks the device’s screen. “I think you can do with some alone time, and I won’t be out for long.”

Without another word to me, Angelo walks toward the front door while dialing a number.

My eyes lock on the gun tucked into the waistband of his pants behind his back, and I swallow hard on the lump of fear in my throat.

“We’re heading out,” I hear him say before the front door shuts behind him.

I sit frozen for a while before I glance around the living room.

I’m married to Angelo Rizzo.

The thought hits like a ten-pound hammer. It’s the last thing I expected to happen to me.

Even though I appreciate the conversation we had, the situation feels insane. One minute, I’m single and suffering under Giorgio’s boot, and the next, I’m married to a terrifying man.

Hearing the front door open, my eyes snap to the foyer, and I see Tiny come in.

He gives me a lop-sided grin. “Hey, Mrs. Rizzo. I’ll be your guard.”

Mrs. Rizzo.

Rising to my feet, I let out a disgruntled huff. “You don’t have to worry.

I’m not going to run away.”

He shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant. I’m here to protect you.” “Oh.” I tuck a curl behind my ear, but it refuses to stay put. “Okay.”

He waves a hand in the direction of the stairs. “Don’t mind me. Just go about your business and pretend I’m not here.”

That’s impossible. The man is a mountain and hard to miss. Giving Tiny a smile, I say, “I’m going upstairs.”

“Okay.”

When he walks toward the couches, I head out of the living room. I glance at the marble statues and artwork before taking the stairs to the first floor. Peeking into a couple of rooms, I finally find the main bedroom.

I don’t see my luggage and head into a massive walk-in closet.

My eyes widen with surprise when I find all my clothes on the left side of the closet.

I glance to the right side and stare at Angelo’s suits. Everything is color- coordinated and aesthetically pleasing.

Letting out a sigh, I wrap my arms around myself and look at my clothes again.

Angelo was right. I need some time alone. Sinking down to the thick carpet, I close my eyes. I’m married to Angelo Rizzo.

Until the day I die, I’ll be his wife. We’ll have children.

Will he be a good husband? Will he learn to love me? Will I learn to love him?

I bring up his image in my mind’s eye and try to think of him as my husband.

Angelo is very attractive, and he seems to be calm and collected. Maybe things can work between us.

Desperate for some kind of hope, I latch onto the thought.

He said he would be loyal to me, which means I won’t have to share him with a group of mistresses. Right?

My eyes pop open, and a frown forms on my forehead. I better make it clear to him I won’t tolerate infidelity.

Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly before climbing to my feet.

If you want your husband to stay out of other women’s beds, you’ll have to satisfy him.

But how? I don’t know much about sex.

Shaking my head, I shove the thoughts aside before I start panicking. Not sure what the rest of the night will hold, I pull a pale green summer dress from the closet and search for underwear.

I’m going to take a relaxing bath to calm my nerves, then I’ll deal with everything as it happens.

When I walk into the big bathroom that’s decorated in black and white stone, my stomach spins with nervousness.

It feels weird being alone in Angelo’s mansion, but seeing as it will be my home, I push through with my decision to take a bath.

The sooner I get used to my new environment, the easier things will be.