ENTANGLED with the billionaire Mafia

HOW CAN good news come in such tumultuous times? I asked myself repeatedly as I sat on the soft leather chair in the doctor's office. Maybe it's exactly what I need. Something good to remove my mind from the doubts I had been feeling for the past few weeks about my stance with Marcus.

"Ms. Bennett?" The doctor's soft voice roused me from my reverie.

I looked up. "I heard you doctor," I said.

"Congratulations," The chubby doctor said. He reached across his table and took a piece of paper. "I am going to write a prescription of iron tablets for you," He scribbled across the paper. "And don't forget to register for your antenatal care, okay?"

I nodded numbly as I collected the paper.

"Is the father in the picture?" The doctor asked.

I hesitated for half a second, not knowing how to answer the question. But then I nodded. "Yes, he is."

The doctor smiled, "Good. My regards to him and my congratulations to him."

I stood up.

"Don't forget to stop by the desk nurse."

I nodded as I walked out of the office.

I subconsciously rubbed my belly. I did not feel pregnant in the slightest.

I absently went through the procedure of getting some iron pills to stop the dizziness and other medicines to quell the morning sickness.

I got into my small Volvo car and sat there for a minute, thinking of my next course of action.

I pulled the visor down and looked at my face in the mirror. I leaned in to take a closer look at my eyes, trying to see if there was any change apart from the eye bags. There was none.

My face was as plain as it normally was.

I sighed.

Marcus had been acting distant for the major part of last week, but he had a right to know. I started the car and merged into the busy afternoon traffic, heading to Marcus's suburb house.

As I drove to his house, I managed to kill the uncertainty that kept flitting in my chest. Marcus Salvatore loves me as much as I love him. He has shown and told me that over the past 3 years, we've been dating.

His recent behavior was just a phase that was going to pass soon. I know he had been under heavy pressure from his family.

He would not tell me what the pressure was all about. He practically claims up when I ask anything about his family, so I figured that he was going to tell me when he was ready.

I swerved into the residential part of town and into the street that led up to his house and I was surprised to see the whole street lined by identical black SUVs. I slowed my car to a crawl as I inched up the street, wondering what this was all about.

It seemed like there was a convergence at the front of Marcus's house. There was a long black limousine parked in front of his driveway.

Maybe it was his family, I thought to myself. I would finally get to meet them today.

I parked on the other side of the street and reached into my bag to retrieve my makeup bag. I patted my cheeks with powder and applied a little mascara to make my presentable. I made sure my lips were not chapped and my hair was well set before I stepped out of my car.

I glanced up and down the street.

This looked like a big deal. I think I always knew at the back of my mind that Marcus was from a big family, but not like this.

I crossed the street and then noticed that two huge men were standing at the door. Their arms were folded to further enhancing their bulging muscles and their faces were like stoic masks with hard jaws, eyes hidden behind black sunglasses.

I started to walk past them but they stepped closer, barring the door.

"What is this?" I asked, looking at each of them.

No answer.

I made to walk past them again.

The bigger one looked down at me. Literally. And said, "No, madam," He said it in a straight tone. I detected a little Italian accent.

So these were part of Marcus's family. Marcus was Italian too.

I stepped back and whipped out my phone. I dialed Marcus's number.

His voicemail came on, "Hello there, I am unavailable at the moment. If I know you or it's important, please leave –"

I ended the call.

"I want to speak with Marcus!" I snapped to the guards outside the door.

I might as well as been talking to statues.

I was prepared to let the Latina side of my blood take full control and go crazy at the men, but then the door opened and a short, round man stepped out. His scanty white hair was stylishly styled to cover his receding hairline, but that did not reduce the air of aristocracy surrounding him. He had Marcus's clear blue eyes and cheekbones beneath the fat chin.

As soon as he stepped out, the guards stepped aside.

The man gave an easy smile as he saw me standing in the driveway. "You must be Olivia," he spread his arms as he approached. "I have heard so much about you."

I felt wary about this man. Even with his easy demeanor and resemblance with Marcus, he made my skin crawl.

He must have seen how I felt because he stopped and dropped his hands to his side. There were 5 guards around him now.

"I am Vittorio Salvatore," He said. "Marcus's father."

"I want to speak with him," I said in an angry voice.

"You can't," Vittorio said. "Not now. Not ever again."

"What?" I asked, refusing to believe what I was hearing.

"You heard me right," Vittorio said. "Whatever it is that is going on between you and Marcus, it ends here and now."

"But –"

"No buts, dear Olivia," Vittorio cut me off. "You will do what I ask while I am still being pleasant about it."

That sounded like a threat.

"I want to speak with Marcus!" I said in what I hoped was a strong voice.

"Marcus is busy," Vittorio said.

I noticed a flutter of a curtain upstairs and a shadow behind it. "I see you, Marcus Salvatore!" I yelled at the window.

"Quiet!" Vittorio snapped. "Marcus is in there, discussing his wedding."

It took some seconds for my brain to process what I just heard. "Wedding?"

"Yes, my dear," Vittorio said absently. He looked like he was enjoying this. "Now, you will scoot away and stop this disturbance." He turned to one of the guards and muttered, "Dai dei soldi a questa donna e assicurati che lasci questo posto…"

2 years of dating an Italian, and I understood the language to an extent. I knew Vittorio had just told a guard to give me some money and take me away.

He turned and looked at me. He saw from my face that I understood. "1 million dollars, eh?"

"I am not leaving here until I speak with Marcus!" I yelled.

Vittorio rolled his eyes and turned away. He gestured with his hands and walked back unto the house.

Two guards advanced on me.

The last thing I felt before darkness enveloped me was a sickening feeling of fear and pain, and then I blacked out.