Texting My Mafia Temptation Novel – Panic makes me run for the exit. Vito is behind me, following me into the hallway and out the fire exit. I suck in big mouthfuls of air. “Stop messing around Mia,” he snaps. “The sooner you learn, the easier it’ll be.” I walk across the parking lot. It’s quiet. Just my footsteps, just my heart thumping. Games. Suddenly, he’s behind me. He spins me around, his eyes wild as he glares at me. “Settle down, Mia,” he whispers, sliding his hands down my body and trapping my arms against me. Then he shoves me back against the wall. He laughs wildly, trying to move his hand down to my hip. I squirm against him. “No… stop… Get away from me!”
Mia He tells me I’m not offended, and he’s right. I honestly don’t know what just came over me. I’ve never sent photos like that. I don’t even like that stuff. I meant it all those times I said I never wanted a man. I wasn’t just talking, but with Dante, it’s different. It’s like there’s this heat inside of me, this burning something that doesn’t make sense. Soon, it’s time to get ready for the date. I don’t know if Dante was really joking when he said my hourglass figure belongs to him. That compliment is winning major brownie points in the emotional lottery. Though I’ve never been called a model, guys have shown interest, and I’ve always pushed them away.
Looks like I won’t be able to push my so-called husband away. I won’t be able to be the person I yearn to be or need to be. Me-Me, as Molly would say. Some would say it’s just toddler babble, but maybe she’s got a point. Me, twice, as a reminder, I should to be the sort of person I want to be. That means not being afraid or trapped in the past. My cell phone vibrates. I grab it quickly, my heart fluttering. Then everything good and positive in me decays and dies. It’s from Dad. Be a good fiancée tonight, my angel… My skin crawls. I swallow, then go to the mirror and plaster a smile on my face. It’s as fake as fake can be, so I try to make it more convincing. My cell phone rings. It’s Lexi. “This is some Ralph stuff, Mia,” Lexi snaps. “Is it?” I say, trying to sound lighthearted. “Ralph stuff”refers to a killer who also abused Lexi when she was a kid.
He’s now on death row for multiple murders. Dealing with that scumbag was a whole thing. “Something’s going on.” “Let’s say it is…” It’s so hard to lie to Lexi. Of all the Marino clan, we’ve been through the most. Well, she’s a Walker, not Marino, but she’s part of the Family. “I don’t have to talk about it right now, do I? You understand that.” Last year, with the Ralph drama, I only found out what he did because he bragged to me about it, thinking it made him look tough or intimidating or something, whatever the little freak thought. “Yeah,” Lexi sighs, “but I’m here for you. I want to help.” “Maybe I don’t need help.” As Vito drives us into the city, I feel like I do need help. I hate being in the car with him, thinking of the conversations he probably had back west, talking about me like I’m a commodity, a mafia princess to be sold. Vito is wearing a fancy suit like this is a real date.
He smiles at me. “Excited for the date?” In the rearview, a dark car follows us. I can’t see the driver, but I know it’s Dante, my own personal enforcer watching over me. “Sure,” I tell him. “Sure,” he echoes, imitating me. “Is that all you’ve got, Mia?” I clench my hand into a fist in my lap. “What do you want me to say?” “Something more than sure, maybe,” he says, shaking his head. “I thought you were supposed to be a good time.” “Oh, did you? Who told you that?” He looks at me, head tilted, as if the answer should be obvious. He keeps looking, driving, not looking at the road. He wants to me scared. I just stare right back at him, silently telling myself if this is it, fine. At least I don’t have to think about my own personal inferno anymore—my own weakness. He turns to the road, laughing. “Maybe you’re spunkier than I thought.”
He glances in the rearview. “Do they have to drive so close? Like I need a babysitter.” I don’t say anything else for the rest of the drive. I want to take out my phone, text Dante, and ask him to hurt Vito. He tried to… I could say, and Vito would deserve it. Dante knows what’s happening here. He knows I don’t want this. Vito pulls up outside the restaurant, giving his keys to a valet. He leads me to a table in the corner of some glitzy, gaudy place. Every time he tries to touch me, I subtly move away from him. I smile when I see Dante enter the room, looking out of place in his black leather jacket and pale blue jeans. He sits at the bar, reminding me of the time Lexi sat at another bar, watching me and Ralph. I look away before Vito notices. He sits down and drums his fingers against the table. “You’d think they’d have a waiter waiting for us,” he snaps. “Why?” I say. He looks at me coldly. “Do you have to ask so many questions?” “I’m sorry,” I say sarcastically.
“Should I just throw a continuous string of compliments at you instead? Or maybe sing songs for you? Or paint you pictures, Vito?” “Careful,” he snaps, lowering his voice. My heart hammers so hard, but I lean forward. “Careful… or what? Do you think because my father told you that you can hit me, you can? Is that it?” I’m almost crying. I feel wild. “Because you’re wrong.” Vito looks so evil for a moment. Then his face brightens into a unhinged smile as he turns to the waitress. It makes me wonder what being married to him would be like—all those looks, all that fear. What will happen when he gets me home? “Drink?” Vito says. “No, thank you. Just water.” “Two glasses of champagne,” Vito says. “Thank you.” “I don’t want—” “Settle down,” he snaps, his tone more vicious again now the waitress is gone. “Just try to be friendlier, Mia. More approachable. More sociable. Smile and talk about how nice the restaurant is and things like that.” I tilt my head, talking in a robotic voice. “Wow, how bright and wonderful this is. What ambiance it has. This is the best experience of my life.”
“You’re seriously pushing it, girl.” “Girl? You’re like three years older than me.” “You’re a nineteen-year-old little idiot,” Vito says, not realizing he sounds like a petulant child. “But you’ll see.” “I’m not drinking that champagne.” He leans in again. “You’ll drink what I tell you to drink. Or I’ll gut you like the last bimbo.” I gasp, and he smirks, leaning forward, his voice getting low and ugly. “Do you think your little games were the only thing your dad did, Mia? We’ve had a lot of fun, and the next bit, you naïve, stupid little girl, involves you.” He laughs when I spring to my feet. Worms crawl all over my skin. Shock pounds in my heart and threatens to break my skull apart. Panic makes me run for the exit. Vito is behind me, following me into the hallway and out the fire exit. I suck in big mouthfuls of air. “Stop messing around Mia,” he snaps.
“The sooner you learn, the easier it’ll be.” I walk across the parking lot. It’s quiet. Just my footsteps, just my heart thumping. Games. All that trauma turned into games. Suddenly, he’s behind me. He spins me around, his eyes wild as he glares at me. He’s got this smug look, the one Dad gets. Eyes that say, Nobody and nothing can judge me for what I’m about to do, and nobody can stop me. “Settle down, Mia,” he whispers, sliding his hands down my body and trapping my arms against me. “Just… settle down.” Then he shoves me back against the wall. I gasp when I feel his strength. I try to push away from him, but it’s like trying to push against solid rock. He laughs wildly, trying to move his hand down to my hip. I squirm against him.
“No… stop… Get away from me!” Dante I run across the underground parking lot, my focus clear, all the confusing thoughts drifting away. There’s no headache. Nothing is stopping me. My purpose is to keep Mia safe, and this rat, this bimbo, this mongrel, this, this… I loop my arm around his neck and tighten it right away, pulling him backward. He gasps and starts clinging onto my arm, but I keep walking back, sinking in a choke and squeezing him so hard, squeezing as he kicks his legs and makes gasping noises. Then he goes for his pocket. He’s got a knife. I throw him to the ground and kick him in the side of the head. He grunts and collapses on the ground, his hand still in his pocket. I watch, waiting for him to move, as blood pools around him, more and more spilling out until I realize. Violence is a wild, unpredictable thing.
Sometimes, a man can get shot through the head and survive. Other times, a kick to the head… Mia is shaking, staring down at Vito. She opens her mouth as if to let out a scream. I dart forward and slip my hand over her mouth. She screams into my palm. I can feel the heat of her breath, see the terror in her eyes. She screams even louder, her eyes going wide. “Mia, stop,” I growl. “Stop.” She’s shuddering all over, almost screaming again. I shake my head. “You need to listen. You talked about disappearing. It’s time we made that happen until I figure out what to do.” She pulls away from me, shaking her head. “You have to,” I growl. “You have to come with me.” Possession enters the urgency in my voice. It’s knowing I have to keep her safe. It’s knowing I can’t get caught either. Ma needs me. She tries to speak. “Don’t scream,” I snap.
She nods, and I slowly move my hand away. She speaks in a low, raspy voice. “He’s duh-dead. Just let me go, okay? Just let me go? Elio will understand. Luca will—” “No,” I snap. “This is Family business. The West Coast Marinos. I need time.” I wrap my arm around her, holding her against me with ease, letting her feel how much stronger I am. Even now, I have to ignore the burning tower of desire in my jeans telling me to feel the shape of her body. Her thickness feel so right against me. She presses her face against my chest, or maybe I guide her there. Then I lean down and lift her up, holding her against my chest like a husband holds a wife when he walks her across the threshold. She gasps and throws her arms around me. “You can’t just take me,” she says.