Page 5 of Knocked up by the Mafia

My eyes widen. “Under your protection? What exactly is that going to entail? Do I have to pay you for protection?”

He smirks at me, and I realize that’s not what he’s planning, and he’s also not going to expand on the conditions of the arrangement. That would be playing fair.

He doesn’t want to play fair.

I’m a new shiny toy, and until my sparkle wears off, he’s making the rules. It’s my only chance, though, so I lift my head.

“Are you at least going to untie me?” I ask.

“Agree?” he asks.

“I agree to live under your protection, whatever that means.” I look him straight in the eyes when I say it.

“Excellent.” He stands, holsters his gun, and takes out a knife. He cuts at my bindings and explains, “Our marriage certificate will be ready in the morning. I thought you’d be inclined to live, so I went ahead and arranged it.”

“What? No, I’m not fucking marrying you.”

He stops and points the knife right under my nose. “You agreed to live under my protection, remember?”

“Can’t you just formally announce it?” I growl. “Why do we have to be married?”

“Because you are unknown, and my name commands respect and fear among the Dons who want you killed. Being married to me secures your protection because they do not want to cross me. It might only be temporary, though, so I will think about how we can further your protection. For now, though, you will be safe, live with me, and stick close to me.” He goes back to cutting my bindings.

“And if I leave?” I ask, shifting slightly.

He chuckles. “Lass, we found you once. Now I know what you look like and what your name is. We found you without knowing those details. Imagine how quickly I’ll find you with them.”

The rope falls to the ground, and I get to my feet. I’m barely standing when he grabs my arm and pulls me to him, chest to chest, faces inches from each other. “I’m not someone you want to fuck with, Natalia. I’m not some Italian or Russian prince that can be charmed by you. I find you fascinating and want to explore that little brain of yours. Alive for now, but I can always dissect it if I get tired of any bullshit you pull.”

I try not to shiver, but I won’t lie; I find him intimidating. This man has lived as a shadow, quietly killing people in the background without a trace, and now here he is, sparing me because I’ve sparked his interest. I think if I try to escape, he will dissect me.

“Fine. I’ll stick close, but when you secure proper protection from the Dons and when you grow bored, are you open to letting me go?”

“No.” He turns. “Come along. We don’t have all night.”

I feel trapped. There’s nothing I can do to escape this situation. I’m not going to cross him because I feel that aside from killing me if he’s inconvenienced, he might also challenge my family. I don’t want them in danger and realize how stupid I was pandering to his questions in a bid to save myself.

I’ve revealed weak spots,myweak spots. I bend down and slip my boots off, leaving them on the floor.

“You’re going barefoot?” he asks, opening the door and waiting for me.

“They’re ruined. It annoys me to look at them, especially since they were brand new.” I walk through the door and see six men lying in pools of blood. I ignore them and walk out. I see his rental parked nearby and walk toward it.

“I will need to get supplies and find a place to keep you safe,” he explains as we climb into the car. “For now, just keep quiet and to yourself, and I’ll figure the details out,” he says as he starts the car.

That’s what I’m worried about.

Chapter 4 - Daniel

Everything about her fascinates me in a way no human ever has. It makes me feel so strange. I can’t explain my thoughts or why I’m taking this risk. I just know I don’t want to kill her, at least not yet.

I take her back to the apartment, and she has a hot shower before she climbs into bed and falls asleep. I close the door and lock it so she can’t interrupt me.

I go to the living room and set up my computer. It is time to report back to the Dons anyway. My men would have let them know that we had caught the Russian responsible for Russo Jr’s death. The screens slowly pop up, and the Dons are all seated at their expansive desks. Some are sipping on wine, others are smoking, but as usual, they all look like a miserable bunch of old fuckers.

I sigh and sit forward. I keep my voice even. “We’ve run into an unfortunate turn of events.”

“What do you mean?” Don Russo asks immediately. “Your men assured us they got the correct person. The woman Volkov.”

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