Page 8 of Married to the Mafia Devil

He starts to cry. “Please, don’t kill me. I’m sorry, truly I am. I was just hired to move it. I don’t know anything.”

I loosen my grip slightly. “Talk, and it better be good. Your life depends on your answer.”

Spit forms at the corner of his mouth as he panics, the words spilling out all at once. “I got conned three months back, I lost everything. Then these guys appear in the bar last night and they buy my a couple of drinks, tell me they need someone to carry a suitcase for them first thing this morning.

“Said they’d pay me twenty thousand dollars to do it. So I pick up this suitcase from a locker at Grand Central and I take it to Petrovitch’s bar, leave it in the dumpster out back like they said. Then I went back to Grand Central. They said the money would be in the locker waiting for me.”

“Let me guess, nothing there.”

“There was a note saying the case belonged to you and I better keep my mouth shut if I wanted to live. I swear If I’d known they were stealing from you, I never would have gotten involved. God help me, I just did it to help my family. I’m behind on the rent. I thought it was easy money. That’s all. I didn’t look inside the case. I just moved it.”

“Where is the case now?”

“I went back to the dumpster when I realized I wasn’t getting paid but it had already gone.”

Igor Petrovitch. The man who killed my parents though I’ve never been able to prove it. The man who thought he’d wiped out my family name, thought I was just a drunk like my father. The only other contender with enough capital to buy that land.

I should have guessed it wasn’t low level thieves who got lucky. They got past the security measures at the vault. Someone big had to fund that level of skill. I should have guessed.

I point a finger at him. “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you.”

“I could get Petrovitch for you.”

I can’t help but laugh coldly. “The Russian mafia boss who hasn’t been seen in public for ten years. You can get him for me?”

“All right. Maybe not, but I can sure find the men who hired me. They’ll know where the case is. You want it back, right?”

I want to grab him and toss him down the stairs but I think of the angel trembling in her bedroom behind me. An idea occurs to me and I have to resist smiling. “If they’re not in my hands in twenty-four hours, I take one of your daughters.”

“Why?” he dares to ask, a flicker of paternal concern finally breaking through his terror.

I lean in closer, my voice cold. “You don’t want to know, trust me. You just concentrate on finding the men who hired you.”

I leave him to slump against the wall, the weight of his choices finally dawning on him.

I walk down the stairs, his sobbing slowly fading away. I get outside, glad to leave the stench of decay behind me. I pause, wanting to go back up and grab the girl, bring her with me.

All I would do is corrupt that innocence until there’s nothing left of it. The light so bright it was blinding would fade to darkness in my hands. She would lose everything that makes her pure.

I slide into the waiting car. Alex is in the driving seat. He moves into the traffic.

I barely register his presence. “You forget something?” he asks as we set off down the street. “Only I don’t see no suitcase in your hand.”

“Prepare St. Agatha’s for a wedding. Friday, noon.”

“You decided to marry him?” he jokes, a smirk playing on his lips. “I thought you went in there to kill him.”

I don’t laugh. “I'm marrying his daughter,” I clarify, staring out the window. “Gave him a deadline he’ll never be able to meet.”

“He’s got kids?”

“Nineteen and twenty-two.”

“Funny names.”

“Just drive the car, Alex.”

“Twenty mob families across the country offer you eligible brides and you turn them all down. Daughter of a thief who took the case and you decide she should be your wife? What gives?”

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