Repaying the Mafia’s Dept

Massimo

God, I don’t have time for this.

Arguing about fucking shit.

I’ve never met a more stubborn woman. It’s because I know her why I’m sparing the time to have this fucking argument.

I’m not violent toward women. It’s not my way, but fuck, this woman has me all riled up in ways I can’t describe.

It took all of ten minutes just for me to get her fucking clothes back on.

“Something is wrong with you,” she snaps at me, setting her hands on her hips.

“What? What the fuck could be wrong with me? I told you we can’t play this game anymore,” I retort. I’m loud and I know I could be causing a scene. What I’m mindful of is Emelia coming in here after hearing the argument and seeing Gabriella.

I know what Gabriella is like. If that happened, she’d find some way to make Emelia feel bad about shit.

“Massimo, you’re saying this because of the marriage. It’s not real. It’s an arranged marriage to conquer an enemy. You and I are more than that. Look how many years we’ve been together,” she says, giving me an incredulous glare, like I should see her point.

The thing is, I do see it. If I had been with anybody, it should have been her. We’ve been screwing around the way we have for the last ten years.

I look at her and \ know she can see what everyone else who’s close to me in is seeing when it comes to Emelia. Some show me respect. Some keep quiet. She wants to ruin it.

I fucking hate being forced to do anything. I’m not ready to accept whatever it is I feel for Emelia, but being backed into a corner with a naked woman on my lap I used to fuck on the regular woke me up in a massive way.

Gabriella came here and tried to seduce me again, and I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do shit because I want Emelia. I want my wife. If that is who I want, I have to tell Gabriella straight that she’s to stop this shit.

“Listen to me,” I say, walking up to her. I get close, real close. So close I see the tremble in her skin she tries to hide. She’s always been afraid of me, never knowing if I just might snap if she pushes me the wrong way. Today came damn close. “Listen to me, Gabriella, and listen well. Today is the last day you do this. You are not to come back here, and you are not to message me about shit again. You are not to come anywhere near me or try to pull shit like you did today ever again.”

She can no longer hide the shaking. Her eyes brim with tears, but I know she won’t cry. She’s not a crier. It’s not that she’s strong. She just doesn’t want to reveal that vulnerability.

“Right. So, this is it? The end of us.” Her voice quivers.

“We ended when you thought it was a good idea to jump in bed with Senator Braxton. That was it for me. We ended a long time ago.” That is the truth and more emotion than I would normally reveal. It tells her I was hurt by what she did.

“You will never love her. You loved me.”

“Just go.” I can’t talk about this anymore.

She cuts me a crude glance, gathers her purse, and storms out at the same time Tristan and Dominic walk into the sitting room. She almost bumps into Tristan as she makes her exit, heels clicking.Content property of NôvelDra/ma.Org.

Dominic’s eyes widen, and Tristan gives me a look of disproval. From what Gabriella was wearing it was obvious she was naked under that kimono.

“Massimo, did you?” Tristan asks, pointing after the empty trail Gabriella left. Dominic looks on curiously.

“No, these women are driving me fucking crazy,” I seethe.

“Well, you’re about to go crazier,” Dominic says, chewing on the side of his lip.

He has news. More pieces of the puzzle.

“Hit me with it,” I say.

“I hacked, and from what I could see, I think they’re waiting on a shipment of diamonds that’s supposed to come in the next three days. It has to be that. It’s blood diamonds worth a shit load of money. There was references to Africa and mines in emails I saw between him and Vlad. They have a deal. I’m still looking into it, but I wanted to give you the heads-up.”

Fucking fuck. I grit my teeth. Diamonds.

Before I can open my mouth, the door opens, and Priscilla rushes in. She knows never to interrupt when it looks like I’m in business meetings. But I’m not about to talk down to a woman who’s like a mother to me.

“Massimo, we can’t find Emelia. She was supposed to come down to lunch. She didn’t. We’ve been looking around. The cameras show her on the beach, but then she just disappears.”

My blood runs cold, and my throat goes dry

“What? What do you mean, disappear? She couldn’t just disappear. The cameras should pick everything up.”

“Where on the beach was she?” Tristan asks. “Did she go in the sea?”

Oh my God. What if she did?

Ma’s cold dead eyes come to my mind. Would Emelia do that? Go in the sea and die? If they can’t find her and she was on the beach, there’s only one place she could have gone. She doesn’t know about the cave. I made sure no one told her. So, what happened?

“She was just walking on the beach picking up shells. She didn’t look herself,” Pricilla says.

“How long ago did the camera pick that up?”

“Twenty minutes.”

“And nothing more?” I ask. My fucking voice waivers. This is my fault.

Priscilla shakes her head.

“I think I know where she went,” Candace says, stepping forward. Her face is ghostly pale, her eyes heavy with sadness.

“Where?” I ball my fists.

“The cave. She would have taken the rowboat. The cameras don’t work on that side of the beach,” she confesses. I glare back at her. Candace is a woman I trust nearly as much as my brothers.

“The cameras don’t work?” I bark. I wasn’t aware of that, but clearly, security has been keeping things from me. Someone will die tonight.

“No. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“And how did Emelia know about the cameras and the boat?” I’ve guessed it, but I want to hear it for myself. From her lips. How she helped Emelia escape. So clever to betray my trust.

“I told her.”

I roar, and she starts crying. I lunge for her. Tristan and Dominic grab me.

“Massimo, there’s a storm coming, and Emelia isn’t a strong swimmer,” Priscilla says quickly. “I can’t imagine a young woman rowing a boat on the sea the way it is. And to where? Where is she going? She won’t survive water like that.”

Panic and terror already have me moving. I don’t care why she left, or how she left, or who helped her leave. Fuck, I don’t even care if she does manage to escape. I just don’t want her to die.

I run with everything inside me. It’s not until I get outside that I realize Dominic and Tristan are following me. We rush across the terrace and down the beach to the cave. The rowboat is indeed gone. It confirms that part of the puzzle. She took it.

We jump into the speedboat, and I shove the keys in the ignition. Once we pull out, I instantly see how turbulent the sea is. I usually take the rowboat out on calmer waters to fish. I would never venture out to these types of waters in that boat, not with the sea wild like it is.

Tristan grabs a pair of binoculars while Dominic starts looking around at the ropes and other things I have stashed under the dashboard.

“Can you see her?” I ask Tristan.

“No,” he answers.

I’m trying to calculate the timing. Priscilla said she was seen twenty minutes ago on the beach. So, maybe she’s been out here for at least thirty minutes, give or take. My guess is as good as shit, though, because it doesn’t count for anything.

I don’t know how long she’s been out here. I don’t know if I’m too late. If she’s thirty minutes ahead of us, then she’s far away. I speed faster and faster.

“Massimo!” Tristan cries. “Over there. Look!” he points, and I see. I see the boat rocking on the water.

“There’s another boat coming,” Dominic states. He points further out to speedboat heading toward Emelia. There’s no mistake it’s going for her. It’s going to crash into her.

I accelerate and get the boat going as fast as I can. When we get closer, I see her crying inside the rowboat. She doesn’t appear to have any oars. I’m not surprised. The boat rocks violently on the waves, and water splashes inside.

Dominic starts waving a flag to the other boat to warn them of a hazard ahead so they can turn, but they keep coming. They keep coming fast, and they’re heading straight for her.

They get close, then a fucking bullet whizzes by my ear.

“Holy fuck!” I shout.

“Fucking hell, this is some kind of plan,” Tristan cries, grabbing his gun. As the boat gets closer, as do we, I see the guy who’s shooting at us. He’s a bulky-looking Russian guy. Who I see next, though, emerging from the cockpit with a shotgun has my blood turning hot and cold at the same time. It’s Vlad!

“Oh my God,” Tristan gasps and starts shooting back.

Emelia screams. She’s in the middle of this and could get caught in the crossfire.

Vlad’s boat gets closer to her. He has men readying themselves to get her. Tristan manages to shoot two of them, and they fall into the water. Vlad dodges the bullets but goes to the side to get her while two men cover him by shooting back at us.

I don’t want him to touch her. I don’t even want him to look at her. The panic has stalled my mind. My brain can’t function right now to process what this means. I just know that if he gets her, she’s dead. I just know.

When a twenty-foot wave bounds down on her and the boat flips over, I die a thousand deaths.

“Fuck, Massimo, get her! We’ll handle them and cover you!” Dominic shouts.

I kick off my shoes and jump into the water. As I dive in, all I hear around me is bullets flying and the water slapping against my body.

I push, swimming forward like I have lightning attached to my feet, my arms forward, slicing through the water.

I catch a glimpse of dark brown velvet hair and speed that way. She’s right at the bottom amongst jagged rock trying to push up, but she can’t. I could breathe fire when I see her foot is clamped between the rocks and she can’t get out.

I swim to her. She’s doing the worst thing she could do by screaming. As the water fills up her lungs, she reaches out to me.

I head for the rocks and try to free her foot, but she’s clamped in like a fucking vice. She must have pushed the rocks out of place. Her feet are so small that it slipped right in. I kick at the rocks but stop when her body stills. Swimming back up to her, I see her eyes go wide as I grab her and shake my head. All she does is stare at me. Her eyes remind me of that deathly terrified look I saw on my mother’s face. Her lips move. I make out an M. Then she stops.

No.

I can’t let this happen.

Even if I have to break her foot, I will do this.

I push back down, feeling lightheaded because I should have already come back up for air and haven’t.

One kick to the rocks makes them crumble, but her foot is still stuck. I do the only thing I can think of doing and throw myself into her. It’s then she comes free. Grabbing her, I push back up to the surface and swim with her to my boat. And I pray. I can’t remember the last time I did. I can’t remember the last time I thought of God, but I do now as I swim back with my love.

The bullets have stopped flying, but I can’t think of what’s happening outside the cold, still body of the woman I’m carrying in my arms.

Tristan lowers himself over the side and reaches for my hand. He takes hold of me. Horror fills his eyes when he sees Emelia.

We get up on the boat, and I lay her down, positioning her to clear her airway, then check her to see if she’s breathing. She’s not. She’s not fucking breathing, and there’s no pulse either. Fuck. This can’t happen. Not to her. I can’t allow her to die.

Panic and adrenaline force me to focus on what I need to do. I snap into action, press my lips to hers, and give her five breaths to try and resuscitate her.

When nothing happens and she’s still not breathing, I start CPR immediately.

I do the compressions and rescue breaths, yet still nothing happens. One minute passes, then two, and I’ve done two sets.

I count and I breathe into her mouth, and I press on her tiny chest, willing her to come back to me.

I count and I breathe, and I press, but nothing happens. She won’t move. She’s not moving.

In my mind’s eye I remember the time we spent together after the dinner at Pa’s house. We laughed and I carried her down the road as we talked. That was the most normal we’d been. We were just a guy and a girl talking. She wanted to know about me. Then, before the night ended, I did what I always do and fucked things up.

Can’t we go on a real date?

I hear her ask in my mind as her lifeless eyes stare back at me and a tear tracks down my cheek.

“Come back to me,” I wail.

“Massimo,” Tristan says, resting his hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“No, leave me!” I shout, shoving his hand away. He’s messing this up. I can’t let her go. I won’t stop trying to pull her back from where she’s gone. I won’t. I can’t be too late. I can’t be too late.

I pump and I breathe into her lips, but I stop and keep my trembling lips against her. Love flows through me. I don’t want to deny it. I don’t want to fight it. I don’t want to fight that I love her. I have from the moment I saw her.

That’s what this is about. I love her, and I can’t let her go.

“Emelia, come back to me!” I shout and press down so hard I think I’ve broken her.

A gasp leaves her body. What comes next is water sputtering from her mouth. She brings it up, all of it, and starts breathing. I think past the haze in my mind and flip her onto her side so she can bring all the water up.

When she finishes and is coughing, I reach for her and hold her in my arms. I hold her like I never want to let her go while she grabs my shirt. The fucking tears come. I remember the last time tears left my eyes.

I was twelve. It was just after I found Ma.