Page 17 of The Mafia Assassin's Redemption
“I-is something wrong?” Dread knots my gut. I squeeze the stem of my wineglass.
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Harriet,” he says, calling me by a name he’s only used once, when he told me how although I’m named Clarita, my mom decided I looked more like my middle name, Harriet. Then it became Harry for short.
“Hazel,” I say, my mouth dry.
He shuts his eyes. “Hazel, sorry, I’ve been thinking a lot today. Since the phone call.”
A rush of adrenaline spikes in my blood and I almost spill my drink. “Phone call?”
“It got me thinking about the past. All the danger we deal with.” He shakes his head and scrubs a hand down his face. “You’re in trouble, Hazel.”
He’s heard about the shooting. I can see it on his face. I don’t know why he’s got the room ready for guests, and I don’t know if I want to know. Because… who would be coming? Protectors? Some weird intervention group?
“I’m okay, really. I didn’t see who?—”
“No, you’re not. The Ricci family aren’t good people to get mixed up with. The rumor is they’re blaming you for that hit on Bernardo.”
My head swirls. “How do you even know about all of this? You’re not?—”
“I know enough about organized crime,” he says gently. “And the blame means a hit on you.”
“What?” I recoil and the wine sloshes over the edge of my glass. “But I didn’t do anything.”
Except help Salvatore’s wife escape his clutches. And all those other women, too.
My chest gets tight. What will happen to them if I’m not around to save them?
“I made some calls and we have help coming in.”
“Help? How?” I gulp down air. “I don’t need help. I didn’t do anything. I’m innocent.”
“The mafia doesn’t work that way. The fact that you’re innocent is why they’ll put a hit on you. They have nothing to lose. They know nobody will retaliate. They can operate with zero repercussions.” He shakes his head. “And what if your past comes out, Hazel? Harriet? My sister and brother-in-law were killed?—”
“Mom might have made it out,” I interrupt, realizing I sound hopelessly naïve.
“People looked for you. It’s why you use a different name. I don’t have any real link to you, unless they dig deep. So I got help to protect you.”
“What kind of help?” My eyes narrow.
“The priest you work for is mafia-friendly?—”
“No. Don’t drag Father Luigi into this.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “There are rituals within the mafia that are more binding than the law. Like marriage, but not the typical kind of marriage. This particular type comes from the old world, and these ceremonies are rarely performed unless there is a proven need for protection and prevention of an all-out war.”
The doorbell rings and my eyes widen.
He stands. “I’ve arranged what’s known as a blood marriage. It’ll keep you safe fromthe Ricci family. Nobody will be able to touch you.”
“What are you talking about?” I snap. “I’m not getting married. That’s insanity.”
But Anthony doesn’t respond. He just turns and walks back toward the front door, leaving me alone in the living room, contemplating a quick escape. I hear voices at the door. They float down the hall and my skin starts to burn.
Marriage? I’m not marrying anyone.
“Uncle Anthony? I’m not doing this,” I call out.
He walks in and another man follows. My chest tightens even more, like a vise is squeezing my lungs. I struggle to suck in air.
