Page 10 of Knocked up by the Mafia

“Do you do things for fun?” she asks, sitting at the island in the center of the kitchen. I place her breakfast before her as she continues, “Do you think we can afford some fun in our line of work?”

“Don’t be snarky. You like going out, you like drinking, and you clearly like sex.” I raise an eyebrow at her, and she shakes her head.

“I like spending time with my family, but I don’t see that happening.”

“No, not now, at least. Maybe in the future, if I can trust you. Eat, and you’ll feel better.” She looks at me with one eyebrow quirked, probably wondering how I know she is ill. “You look off.” I indicate her face. “Pale, and you retch louder than a cat with a furball.”

She rolls her eyes and starts eating her breakfast, falling into silence.

I eat as well. I need to maintain my strength.

“I’ll think about it,” she says suddenly, finished eating and pushing her plate away from her. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a hobby, and I appreciate that I won’t have to be bored staying here. I’ll let you know. Is there a TV in the living room?”

“There is. I checked, and it’s connected to everything.”

“I’m going to go relax there then.” She gets up and takes her coffee.

I finish eating, completely ignoring her. I have my phone open on the cameras. She just lies on the sofa, across it really, and flips through channels. She has accepted this situation far too readily, and I’m sure those little gears in her head are ever turning trying to think of a way to convince me to let her go.

I load the dishwasher and put on a fresh batch of coffee. I need to think about this. I need to find a way to satisfy the heads of the families so that they will release the hit they’ve put on Natalie's head. Especially now that they know her name and where she is. Last night's guy wasn’t a random thief. It wasn’t a random break-in. He was there for Natalie; if the Dons were pissed enough, he was probably ordered to kill me too.

Now that would be an unfortunate mistake.

Chapter 7 - Natalia

I’ve spent most of the last few days watching rubbish television shows, reading, or sleeping. Despite eating regular meals now, I’m still feeling sick. I am considering having Daniel take me to a doctor because I think I have a stomach virus. That or he’s poisoning me.

I have considered that possibility.

Though I’ve kept an eye out, and he eats the same food as me, I’ve noticed nothing different. I’ve even switched plates with him a few times when he got up, and nothing has happened to him.

It worries me; I rarely get sick. I can count the times I’ve been sick in my twenties on two fingers, if you know what I mean.

I don’t want to ask him for medication. I don’t want him to have access to medical care for me. Who is to say he wouldn’t drug me? I wouldn’t put anything past him.

I have been messaging and calling Ivan but not saying much, and he has been asking me to talk to him face-to-face. I can’t leave it for too much longer, or he’s going to get really angry or think I’ve been kidnapped and try to save me. He keeps asking if he can see me with his men, and I keep telling him no. He’s not happy that I’m defying him, I know that, but there’s nothing I can do. I know Daniel will kill anyone who comes onto this property. I also don’t know where this property is, and no one can trace my phone's location.

On top of everything, we haven’t left the house at all. Daniel watches me when I go into the back garden on occasion so I can get some fresh air and sunlight. He doesn’t let me out of his sight when I do that. If we need something for the house or ourselves, someone delivers it, usually around back, and I’m ordered to the other side of the house so no one learns that I’m here.

Just in case.

Just in case of what? I thought the Dons were scared of Daniel and wouldn’t dare to attack him. Maybe he’s keeping something more from me. Maybe they aren’t as scared of him as he’s made them out to be. I mean, they are the most powerful families in Sicily.

It doesn’t matter anyway because Daniel seems hellbent on protecting me, as promised, and he goes to extraordinary lengths. In my short bouts in the garden, I’ve seen the cameras and sensors. At first, I thought it was to keep me in, but I’ve since realized it’s to keep everyone else out.

Still, I’m going stir-crazy, and my loyalty to my family still comes first in my eyes. I’ve been psyching myself out the last few days to prepare for today. I am sure he won't deny me if I remain calm and confident. I don’t know if I don’t ask, right? And the worst answer he could likely give me is no.

So I sit in the kitchen eating breakfast, sipping on coffee, and wait until his mouth is full before I look up. My words are quick but firm. “I am going to see Ivan today. I’ll need the car.”

He doesn’t look up. He seems unsurprised by my announcement and calmly finishes chewing and wiping his mouth on a napkin.

“Of course, you’re welcome to see your family. I will be accompanying you, though.” Now he meets my eyes, and I shudder inwardly. His eyes are calculating and cold. I didn’t expect him to agree; he seems to have predicted this move. I don’t want him to go with me. I want privacy with Ivan to explain the situation because I know Daniel won’t let me tell him the truth if we’re standing there together.

“Ivan will kill you,” I say simply, looking down at my food, trying to remain calm.

He doesn’t say anything, and when I look up, he smiles. I don’t think he’s scared of anything or anyone. That’s worrisome.

I leave to put my shoes on, and when I return, he’s waiting at the door to the garage with the car keys. He opens the passenger door for me.

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