Romans & histoires The Mafia's Forgotten Wife

“You should ask mother, she is the one keeping from us the fact that father now sells stolen drugs and she knows where he is hiding.” “Oh that? I know all about it, so?” “So? Seriously Eloise, you do know that the mafia keep none of their enemies alive. How could Father endanger our lives like that.” “Relax sis, that’s why we had to make sure we were stealing from your husband. No way is he going to kill his wife’s family. Serena looked from mother to sister in shock, they indeed were cut out of the same cloth. “I am leaving” Serena announced on her way out the door.

I couldn’t imagine seeing the old man marrying again, but then again being in his early fifties wasn’t considered old, and in his state, he was in good shape, a strong leader, and a smart business man, no matter what the cause was. “Nikita” she nodded at Kiara, her brown eyes meeting my wife’s green ones both of them smiling coldly at one another, I hated to admit it, but my wife was just as ruthless as the two were when she wanted to be. I had seen her fight once. The girl killed more men that day alone than any girl I’ve ever seen in less than fifteen minutes just to get her father out of some trouble he put himself into. She didn’t care for money either, no matter what the price was or wh

she said with worries. "I have considered it as well. Our mafia group is not any street gang, dear. We rule the underground world. No one would dare to take a powerful Mafia's wife away just like that, in case you got revealed. I will give Kennard my position so he will have more powerful authority." he relieved her. Madeline listen carefully to his every word but still, her fear for Kennard was stopping her from accepting his idea. He took a moment and again spoke gazing at her lost figure.

At first, they were just hushed conversations in the background, but it didn’t take long for the words to start becoming clearer. "Did you hear? That’s Alessia, the wife of Leo, the Mafia Don." "Yeah, the one who got him arrested... What kind of woman does that?" “I'm sure she did it for money, no one had heard from her former husband.” I could feel their eyes on me, their judgment pressing against my skin like a thousand needles. My cheeks burned and my throat tightening as their words cut through me.

They were finally free from the terrible things he had done in the past. I find a rare photograph of Atwell and his family, hidden into some old photographs on one of Atwell's wives albums on F******k. The kid looks at the camera, laughing, while Atwell holds him and his wife together. They look happy. Just your mill-of-the-corner, average American trio. But the Mafia never forgets and never forgives. I have to know where they are now. On running a face-detection on the wife and kid, I find my breath catch a hit for the only thing I can find, on the entire open internet, are two obituaries.

“That’s the name she gave me. I didn’t know.” He studied me for a moment, then nodded slowly. “That’s my wife, alright. Now tell me what’s going on. Why are you here?” I hesitated, then spoke. “She said I might be in danger. That there are people looking for me. She said there’s a mafia group around, and they could be the reason I lost my memory.” His expression shifted into confusion. “Mafia?” he repeated. “What mafia?” “She said there’s a syndicate around here,” I explained. “That they’re dangerous.”

She raised her stubby pinky to me and pouted her lips, ready to tear up. I was short of words. She remembered Logan, Karl, me, and every other thing except Lorenzo. She didn't remember the man who was ruthless and cruel to her in the name of marriage. She didn't remember how he killed her parents or how he led her to the altar and proceeded with the marriage vows with her. She didn't remember the mafia boss of Chicago, the one who married her for an heir and made life hard for her. She didn't remember any of it.

I remained silent, not moving an inch, tears streaming down my face as I watched him. The vivid memory of him violating my sister felt like it had just happened yesterday. He had locked me away in the mansion, denying me my freedom. “Do you realize what you’ve done? The mafia wants you dead, and worst of all, you did it on the anniversary of my wife’s death, in front of everyone,” he said. I could detect a hint of sympathy and frustration in his voice, but I remained unresponsive. I was lost in my thoughts as he held me tightly, as if trying to coax me into speaking. I didn’t finish.

"I didn't dump you. I was mad, alright, but I—" "Don't lie," I said to him, my tone steadying. "You shamed me. You let your mistress talk down to me the moment she had a chance. You treated me lower than your maid. Gawddd! Callum, I was your wife not a plaything. We were married five years, there were other couples who were married longer with no kids but they did not try to kill their wives because their 'mistress' had an emergency. You shoved me when I begged for help.. You told me to stop faking it. That night, I lost everything." For an instant, there was guilt in his eyes. He was looking down at the ground, like he couldn't possibly look at me. "I… I didn't mean to—"