Page 10 of Married to the Mafia Devil

Amelia appears in the bedroom doorway, rubbing her eyes. “What’s going on?” she asks. “Jeez, Dad, you stink of booze.”

I step in front of him, blocking his path to his suitcase. “Tell me what happened, exactly.”

Dad curses. “Listen, both of you. Three months ago I got invited into this business deal with these Russians. Promised me a fortune if it came off. So I took our rent money and as many loans as I could get. Only it turned out the deal was a horse that didn’t come in and the loans were from the Russian mafia.

“Now, I’ve spent three months just paying the interest on the debt and then these two guys tell me they have this one little job that pay me twenty thousand bucks, more than enough to clear my debts and make rent. They asked me to move a suitcase for them.

“How was I supposed to know the case belonged to Matteo Rossi? God, I owe money to the Russians and the Italians want me dead. I really fucked up.” He moves around me to slam his case shut, a wild look in his eyes. “Are you two coming or not? Two minutes and I’m gone, with or without you.”

Amelia freezes, tears streaming down her face. She turns to me, eyes pleading. “You go with him, Emma. Please. Leave me here. I’ll be all right.”

I'm torn, caught between the urge to flee with my dad and the need to protect my sister. Dad’s lugging his case over to the front door, tears running down his cheeks, apologizing to us both as he goes. I could leave with him but that would mean leaving Amelia behind.

“Listen, this Matteo Rossi. Maybe we can reason with him?”

He barks out a cold laugh. “Yeah, reason with Satan himself. Sure, that’ll work out just fine. I’m going. Are you coming or not?”

“Dad, I...” My voice trails off as I look at him. He’s at the front door, holding it open. Amelia is trying to push me after him.

“I’m not leaving,” I say. “Mom said family look after family. I can’t leave Amelia. Neither should you.”

“You don’t know him,” he replies. “He’s a monster, he’s the devil. He’ll make you wish you were dead.”

I think of how he looked at me in the bedroom. “He won’t,” I say out loud, desperate to believe my words.

With one last look at us both, his shoulders sag. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“Stay with us, Dad. We can handle this together.”

He shakes his head. “I can’t.” He lugs his case toward the stairs, leaving Amelia and me to watch him go. “I’m sorry,” he calls back over his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

I close the door slowly, turning back to face my sister. Her soft sobs fill the space, echoing off the walls, a stark reminder of the choice I've just made. “You’d be better off without me,” she says. “You should go with him.”

I lead her back to bed. “Remember what Mom used to say?” I ask, tucking myself in next to her under the blankets.

“Amelia, no candy until you eat your broccoli.”

“Family looks after family. I’m not leaving you here alone. I know for a fact you’d mess up all the books in my room.”

She manages a smile. “I'm sorry,” she whispers. “I want to leave but I just can’t.”

“It's not your fault,” I reply. “I want to leave the apartment without going through my rituals but I can’t.”

She leans her head on me, sighing loudly. “You’re good to me.”

“None of this is your fault,” I say. “You were attacked in the street. That would freak anyone out.”

She looks at me, her gaze filled with so much fear and uncertainty. “I just can't bear the idea of going outside again.”

I take her hand, squeezing it gently. “I know, and I'm so sorry I haven't been able to make it better for you.”

Just then, her phone rings. “Unknown number,” she says, pressing it to her ear. “Hello?” She listens for a while. “Can you hang on just one second?” She puts a hand over the mouthpiece. “It’s Dr. Summers. Oh my God.”

“Who?”

“She’s the therapist on all those commercials. Specialty is agoraphobia. I looked up her website once. Her rates start at five hundred an hour. Says I’ve got six months therapy paid for upfront. Wants to plan our diary. You know anything about this?”

I think of what Matteo said. A therapist he knew. He’d give her a call.

---