Page 29 of Mafia Princess

We arrive at The Ritz-Carlton in a snow-white stretch limousine. The bright lights of the passing cars are muted from the dark windows. Nightfall is beautiful here in the ever awake city; it’s my favorite time of day. When one’s darkness is hidden behind shadows and the ability to escape the world is around every corner.

Papa and Mason sit across from me, and neither has spoken a word since we all climbed in back at home. The tension between the two is palpable, the air so thick it’s suffocating. I keep eyeballing Mason, but he won’t even look at me. I get the sinking feeling that some deal he’s had to handle has not turned out how Papa had hoped.

You win some you lose some.

“What’s up with you two? One would think you’re getting sold off at the stockyards, not me.” I pull out a Marlboro and watch Papa as his eyes close for a moment.

“Now, Maya? You need to smoke those fucking things now?” He leans forward to try to grab the cigarette out of my hands.

I see Mason twitch as Papa sits heavily back in his seat, defeated, unable to grasp the cigarette out of my hand.

“I do. It’s the only thing I have left.” I flick the lighter and drag in a lungful of the dense tobacco.

“It fucking stinks.” He climbs out of the car and slams the door shut.

“What the fuck is his problem?” I flick the ash at my feet.

Mason finally looks at me, his face wears the burdens of this family as well as mine. “He’s asked me to do something I don’t think I can.”

“What is it? Want me to do it?” I lean forward, fiercely protective of my brother. Ever since that night, I know I have lost all my morals, and the only person in this world who means anything to me is sitting right across from me. I know he’s pure to his core, even though he has killed many for Papa. He still wears his demons with a halo attached above his head.

“No, you go do your duties with this engagement and let me handle Papa’s shit.” He takes the cigarette out of my fingers and sucks in a deep drag. His eyebrows quirk up after he blows out the smoke.

“What?” I wink at him. “How else was I going to get through tonight?”

He takes one more drag and hands it back to me. “Are they all laced with pot?”

“Sure are.”

“Save some for me later.”

“Will do.” I put the cigarette out on the carpet. It’s gross, I know, but fuck it. Papa can pay for the cleaning bill.

Mason grabs my hand as I’m about to exit the limousine. “Mom would be so proud of the woman you have become.” His eyes turn glassy.

“She would be proud of you too.” I scoot forward and kiss him on the cheek. “Now, let’s get the hell out of here and go get me engaged.” I screw my face up in disgust.

Papa waits in the lobby, talking business no doubt, to someone I have never met. As Mason and I make our way to them, I spot Milan deep in discussion on his phone at the far end of the lobby, dressed impeccably in his signature tux. His ever-present moody face is plastered on for good measure. His gaze fixates on me and his features change from a scowl to one of astonishment, as if he has never seen a woman in a sparkly tight dress before.

From across the room, I feel his eyes drinking me in, from my Valentino shoes to the side part of my hair on top of my head. He cuts his phone call short and stalks toward me, never taking his eyes off the prize.

“Good to see your taste in dresses has improved,” he remarks.

I roll my eyes at him; it’s all I can do without flipping him off. “Good to see you’re the same. Boring as every other man in this place.”

His menacing gaze softens slightly, a small curve to the side of his lips hides his true desires. Desires, I’m positive are beyond my wildest fantasies. “Has tennis always been your favorite? You seem to rally like the best of them.” He holds out his arm for me to take.

“Was that a backhanded compliment?” I look at his bent arm and wonder what 1950s movie he stepped out of.

“Just take my fucking arm, Maya,” he growls. “I know you have two legs and can walk by yourself and all that feminist shit. But, we’re here to make a spectacle, to give this dial-a-crowd what they want. A fucking fairy tale.”

“You could have just asked.” I wink at him and wrap my arm around his. Yes, I can act like a lady if and when I need to.

Papa and Mason watch me carefully, waiting for me to explode and cause a scene, but I know I just need to get through tonight and not draw too much attention to myself. The whirlwind of confusion settles in the deepest part of my heart. This is the beginning of the end, and it seems that I have no control of my life. My light is slowly dimming, and I hope it doesn’t get blown out from the mere presence of this man on my arm. I don’t know him from a bar of fucking soap yet here we are, about to tell the biggest lie to the world. He has fucking news reporters trying to snap pictures. They’re denied entry, but this does nothing to stop them from taking photos through the glass doors. The fuck has Papa signed me up for?

“We’ll see you in there.” Mason nods and follows Papa to the function room.

For someone always so cool, calm, and collected, Milan is sure having a hard time not being tense. His bicep bulges under my arm, and I’m afraid he’s going to rip through his expensive suit. “Just breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth.”

---