Married to the Mafia Boss

Carmine

I cock my head to the side. “I know how to shoot just perfect.”

“Well then,” she says, “Why are you questioning my ability to work on a car? You men are all the same.” She gets up and brushes a strand of hair out of her face, leaving a greasy mark. I chuckle and pick up a clean-looking rag, and move to wipe her face. She lets me.This material belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

“Aren’t women supposed to be at the house, barefoot and pregnant?” I’m teasing, but I try to sound serious.

She pulls away and punches my arm. “That’s such a sexist thing to say. Can you come back to the twenty-first century?”

I set the rag down. “I’m just saying you could pay someone to do this for you.”

“Except Alessandro won’t let me leave the house for the rest of the day,” she sighs. “Also, if I do it, I’ll do it properly.”

I shake my head. “Uncle Donny should never have taught you how to change the oil on a car.”

“Why? Uncle Donny saved me a lot of hassle and being ripped off. Men see a woman coming and think they rub a brand-new air filter in dirt and insist they have to install a new one for triple the cost of the part.”

Her face is a bit flustered, and I raise an eyebrow. “Did that seriously happen?”

“To a friend, who called me, and I sorted that mechanic out real quick,” she says, picking up a wrench.

“Still, women and men should each have their place,” I say, waving a hand in disregard. “We should all have our places.”

She looks like she wants to throw the wrench at me, and I can’t take it anymore; I burst out laughing. “I’m joking, Ari. Just joking.”

“Don’t call me Ari,” she mumbles, getting back on the creeper and sliding under the car. I can hear her tinkering around as I sit on a stool near the workbench.

“So no racing for you tonight then,” I point out, fiddling with a screwdriver left carelessly lying about.

I swear I hear her curse, and then in a muffled voice, she asks, “Are you just here to torture me?”

“I came to check on you,” I say sincerely. “I was really horrified to hear about the attack on you all. Mom is still shaken up, and she’s gone to rest. I was worried about you. Are you okay?”

She doesn’t say anything, so I get up and roll her out. She looks up at me. “I’m fine. I expect this sort of thing to happen. I know what my family does, Carmine, as much as you all don’t think it’s women’s business to know. Which is so stupid because Katya is involved, and she could whip you all in one swoop.”

I crouch down so that I can be closer to her. “Doesn’t mean you can’t be careful. I would hate for something to happen to you, Ari. I’d never live with myself.”

Is that a blush I see creeping up her face? I get up again, and she sits up. “Who was it? What family targeted us?”

“You know I can’t discuss that,” I say, sitting back down and watching her. “Alessandro doesn’t want us to discuss family business with you, Sofia, Amelia, mom, or any of the ladies except for Katya.”

“Katya thinks that’s stupid. Doesn’t that count for anything?” she asks.

“I am loyal to Alessandro. What he says goes. I respect Katya as my Don’s wife, but I follow his orders.”

She hugs her knees and looks at the tire of her car for a while before she says, “I’ve been meaning to get back into shape. It’s been a heavy carb winter.”

I chuckle. “You have no weight to lose. You’re skinny.”

“I gained a few pounds,” she says. “And I feel good when I work out, only I doubt Alessandro will let me workout on my own at a gym or go for jogs around the neighborhood.”

“I doubt it too,” I say, swinging from left to right on the stool.

“Perhaps it would be more agreeable if you were jogging with me.” I recognize that sweetness in her voice. She’s after something, and she means to get it. A small voice inside me hopes it’s me that she wants to get. And another voice is equally terrified it’s me that she wants to get.

“I’ll speak to your brother, but I see no harm in it,” I reply. “We can start with just around the track nearby.”

She grins, and we look at each other for what feels like an eternity. Those blue-gray eyes bore into my soul, and I felt like I shivered within myself.

The door to the garage swings open and bangs against the wall. We both jump, and I’m up with my hand on my gun. Dominic looks at both of us and then chuckles. “Jesus, jumpy much. Do you really think they’d get this far?”

“Can’t be too careful,” I say, dropping my hand.

He looks between Arianna and me. “What are you two up to?”

“I was checking in on Ari…anna.” I am uncomfortable using her nickname when others are around, “And….”

“And…I was teaching him how to change oil,” Arianna butts in. “Do you also need a lesson, Dom?”

“I know how to change the oil just fine,” my best friend says. “But you better not get any ideas about rolling out of here to race. Alessandro means business when he says you’re to stay home.”

“I got it, I got it,” she snaps. “I’m a prisoner until further notice.”

“That’s not fair, Cup Cake,” Dominic says. I watch their interaction, not wanting to interfere. “You know it’s for your safety.”

“Had I been driving, we wouldn’t have been in an accident,” she says matter-of-factly, lying back down on the creeper. “We probably would have outpaced them even in that shitty sedan.”

“Probably,” Dominic says and turns to me. “Alessandro has a job for you. It’s why I was looking for you.”

I glance at Arianna’s legs and nod. “Okay, I’ll be there shortly.”

Dominic looks between us again, and I nudge Arianna’s leg. “You’ll have to finish teaching me how to change the oil another time.”

“You’re always welcome to pop in and learn,” she calls, then starts humming to herself.

I follow Dominic out of the garage, and he stops just outside. “What’s up with her?”

I panic slightly, wondering if he correctly interprets the looks I give his sister. “What do you mean?”

“You came to check in on her. Is it just because she can’t leave the house that she’s being a brat?” Dominic asks.

I raise an eyebrow. “Well, if you were still calling me Cup Cake and a brat when I was twenty-five, you wouldn’t be my favorite person either. Especially since Cup Cake is what the folks call her.”

“Yeah, I know. I like to annoy her. But she’s okay, right?” Dominic asks, and I see a glimmer of worry under his hard exterior. It’s there in his eyes. Her eyes. The Sorvino’s eyes.

“She seems fine. She wants to lose a few pounds, so I might take her jogging at the track tomorrow.” Dominic is about to say something, and I hold a hand up. “We’ll take an escort, and you know she’s safe with me.”

“Try telling Alessandro that.” Dominic makes a good point.

“I will.”