The Mafia Underboss’ Regret
For five years, I fought illegal matches in an underground cage ring to scrape together enough money to repay the massive high-interest loan I had taken out to treat my son Luca’s illness.
Dragging my still-dislocated left arm, I rushed to tell the father and son the good news.
Yet when I reached the door, I saw the capo who managed the cage arena bowing low before my husband, Vicenzo.
“Underboss, Eva said she’ll repay the loan in a few days. Do we still keep pretending to pressure her?”
Vicenzo idly spun the Browning in his hand, the diamonds set into it worth enough to buy the entire cage arena.
“No need. She’s suffered enough these past few years. Even when she had two ribs broken a few months ago, she didn’t dare tell us.”
Elena, his sworn sister, seated beside him, let out a soft laugh.
“Vicenzo, what if she’s a spy sent by a rival family? After all, you are the underboss of the Carlini family.
“Besides, Luca has been pampered since he was little. How could he live with someone who reeks of blood?”
My six-year-old son wrapped his arms tightly around her neck and echoed her words. “I don’t want a woman covered in scars as my mommy. Just looking at her wounds makes me feel sick.”
Then he turned to her and pouted. “Aunt Elena, I wish you were my mommy.”
Vicenzo hesitated only a moment before looking at them indulgently.
“Then we’ll test her for another six months. If she remains this obedient, I’ll officially let her become part of the Carlini family.”
I watched the farce with cold eyes, because to avoid frightening Vicenzo, the ordinary librarian I believed him to be, I had hidden my identity as the principessa of the Moretti family.
Also, to keep from being found by my family and my fiancé, the Don of the Carlini family, I had not touched a single cent of family money. Instead, I chose to earn it with my fists in places piled with the dead.
So it seemed my endurance and sacrifice were nothing more than a taming game in their eyes.