Page 73 of Mafia Boss's Fake Wife

She’s wrapped up at the bow of the boat, a fishy blanket around her shoulders. The captain provided it after taking one look at her face. I explained that we were Americans interestedin an authentic tour of my homeland, making my face as blankly American as possible.

Given the amount of Americans who come by the dozens to tour the places that their ancestors left, it’s not uncommon. I certainly know that Elio and I got away with things in Italy while pretending to be on some kind of homecoming trip.

Elio, of course, is Italian. And I’m Italian enough that it never felt right to say I was discovering Italy… I had always known it.

The boat captain rolled his eyes but agreed to take us on his route, which would stop at another village. My vision from there was to grab a car, steal it if necessary, and then continue on to a larger port. Or even a fucking airport.

I don’t think I can get the passports in time, however…

“Your woman. She’s gonna catch a cold up there,” the captain says behind my shoulder.

It takes years of careful steeling of my nerves to not tell him, aggressively, that she’s not my woman.

“She’s tougher than you think,” I murmur.

“Still. Someone’s going to get cold between the two of ye, if you don’t have a bed to sleep in for a while. If you need to mend something with her, son, you might as well do it,” he murmurs.

God save me from nosy old men.

Still, I have a part to play. I drift up to the bow with Roisin.

“The captain says I need to make sure you aren’t mad at me, so I can leave the doghouse,” I murmur.

I’m not sure why I’m hoping that the idea of our stupid lie will get a smile out of her. But I am hoping that.

Somehow.

Roisin sighs. “Sure. Well. You’ve done it. Made up.”

“Roisin…”

“What, Marco. Do you want me to saygood job? Do you want me to say that I’m happy to be here right now, or that everything seems freaking great? It doesn’t. I’m a lot of things but I’m not a liar, and right now I’m terrified that my brother is dead and that his very amazing fiancé who never deserved any of this is dead too. I’m worried that I’m going to go to jail for a very long time, for a murder that I didn’t cause. So tell me, Marco,” she snaps at me. “What the hell do you want from me?”

“I want you…” my voice trails off.

I don’t want her to be so defeated.

I don’t want her to worry about Liam and Stassi.

I wish I could just… fix all this for her.

Fuck.

This is what I do. I fix things. I do it for my family all the time.

So why the fuck can’t I do it for Roisin, somehow?

Roisin’s eyes search mine. She gives me just another moment before turning with a sharp nod.

“That’s what I thought.”

I don’t say anything. I stand there, so the captain doesn’t question my abilities as a partner and turn us in.

But my mind churns, faster and more quickly than the Irish sea.

As the boat pulls in to the village, my phone beeps. I’m not sure if it’s because we finally have a signal or if Elio has only just now gotten information, but I quickly open it.

Elio: Stassi and the fucking Irishman are fine.

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