Borrowed Bride: A Fake Marriage, Secret Baby, Dark, Mafia Romance (Mafia Lords of Sin)

“What are you doing here?!” I bellow. Anger surges through me like fog, clouding out all my other senses. Only one fact remains in my mind; keeping Emi safe. Nothing and no one else matters.

They never will.

“I—I’m sorry!” Gianna stammers, trembling in my grip. “I was just walking and I⁠—”

“You don’t find this place by just walking. You were ordered to stay out of the south wing! You really do have a death wish.”

I’m in the process of dragging Gianna back toward the wall when a sudden sharp pain flares across my side as Emilia pokes me with her walking stick.

“Marco Francis Barrone!” Emilia scolds sharply. “Stop being such a terror and leave her alone!”

I freeze in place with Gianna trembling in my grip. She looks past me, and her shining eyes widen further at the sight of the woman behind me. I turn.

Emilia is on her feet, pulling a knitted shawl around her frail shoulders. She adjusts it, then moves the fabric over her badly scarred arm and hides it from view.

“Emilia,” I snap, softening my voice. “You know what this means.” I glare back at Gianna. “You will forget ever coming here if you want to make it out of here alive.”

“Marco!” Emilia scolds and her stick smacks into my thigh. “She’s here. She’s seen me. There’s no point keeping this a secret.”

“Emilia, if anyone finds out from her, then you⁠—”

“I am quite aware,” Emilia interrupts briskly. “Let go of your wife and introduce us before I use this again!” Despite her unsteady stance, she waves her cane up near my face and I relent.

My grip on Gianna relaxes and she instantly jerks herself away from me.

“Emilia, this is Gianna. My wife,” I say tightly. “Gianna. This is Emilia. My sister.”

Gianna pauses rubbing her arm and stares openly at Emilia. Her eyes are so wide it’s a wonder they don’t pop out of her skull.

“Your … sister?” Gianna croaks. She sniffles, quickly wiping at her eyes. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to⁠—”

“Nonsense.” Emilia leans heavily onto her walking stick. “Ignore my idiot brother. He’s at war all the time, and he forgets to be human. Please.” Emilia nods to the seats around the small table. “Sit with us.”

I want Gianna to say no. Every second we linger here is a second too long. The more she knows, the bigger the threat she is to my life, and Emilia’s, and I have spent decades keeping Emilia safe.

“I should leave,” Gianna says shakily, glancing at me.

“Nonsense,” Emilia says. “Sit down.” Suddenly, she erupts into a wheezing coughing fit, and all thoughts of reprimanding Gianna vanish from my mind. I’m by my sister’s side instantly, helping her ease back down into her chair. She tries to wave me off but she’s far too weak now. Once seated, I crouch beside her and check the lines to the oxygen tank that sits beside her. Everything looks good.

“Emilia, you can’t exert yourself,” I warn gently.

Emilia scoffs roughly, dabbing at her scarred lips with a tissue. “If you weren’t such a pigheaded brute, I wouldn’t have to,” she snaps. Her pale eyes lock on to Gianna, who sits very cautiously beside her. “It’s lovely to meet you, dear.”

“I …” Gianna keeps her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure I understand.”

“What don’t you understand?” Emilia asks.

I take my seat next to Emilia, watching Gianna with a frown. I should have known a street rat like her wouldn’t have listened to a few simple rules. Maybe making the south wing off-limits turned it into a beacon for a thief like her.

“You,” Gianna says, and her eyes dart to me. “I thought Marco’s sister was dead.”

“Marco, pour the poor girl some tea,” Emilia snaps at me.

I roll my eyes but oblige. Emilia is the only woman in the world who can demand things of me, and I will follow her every request. It’s the least I can do.

“This must be quite a shock. Since Marco won’t, I will apologize for his behavior. He is very protective and has spent a lot of time keeping me safe. I imagine you were never supposed to find out.”

“She was supposed to stay out of the south wing,” I mutter as I pour the tea into three porcelain cups. “A pretty fucking simple request.”

“I’m sorry,” Gianna says. She sits as stiff as a board. “I was curious. I was exploring and I shouldn’t have.”

I want to say more. I want to yell at her, scare her until she begs for mercy and never even dreams of breathing a word about this place. Anger simmers just under my skin and I repeatedly flex my hand to try and remain calm.

“Indeed,” Emilia says. “There is nothing I can say or do that will stop you from telling people what you have seen here. After all, that is your choice.”

“Emilia—” I start to warn her, but she raises her hand.

“But you are correct. The world thinks I am dead. Everyone thinks I am dead except Marco and my father, who I am sure you have met.”

Gianna nods quickly.

“It is a carefully crafted lie that Marco has spent his life creating and keeping so I am able to live in peace.”

I watch Gianna like a hawk and see her seeking out pieces of the puzzle. My sister’s constant coughing and wheezing, the scars twisted across her beautiful face and limbs, the oxygen tank at her side, and her obvious fragility. All pieces of a painful puzzle that Gianna has no right to.

“Marco keeps me hidden here, in this closed wing but it is nothing sinister, I assure you. I love plants, you see. When I was younger, they were my passion. Now I simply exist with them, watching them thrive year after year and praying the same for myself. Science, it seems, has not yet reached that level.”

She chuckles softly and slowly reaches for her tea.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Gianna says quickly. “I swear.”

“I can’t stop you,” Emilia says. “But I hope you will take everything into account before you do.”

Slumping back in my chair, I watch Emilia closely to ensure she doesn’t spill hot water on herself. She takes a few sips of her tea and then speaks.

“When I was thirteen years old, the estate was attacked. Marco and I hid, as we were ordered to do. We’d spent years doing practice runs of such things, but it was never supposed to be a reality.”

I grunt softly, fighting the acidic wave of guilt that rises as Emilia talks. I feel responsible for that night and it weighs on me daily.

“Details are fuzzy, you understand,” Emilia says. “I was young and Marco was only sixteen. We weren’t privy to the inner workings of the family. We just had to hide and survive. Unfortunately, we failed.” Her voice trembles faintly. “They found our mother first. They tortured her, assaulted her, and killed her. Then they found me.”

Gianna’s face turns as white as a sheet and her hands tremble despite her tightly laced fingers.

“Marco did everything he could to protect me, but what can a sixteen-year-old kid do against five grown men?” Emilia looks at me, then reaches for my hand. I grip it as tightly as I dare. “They beat him. I thought for sure he was dead and then it was my turn. Our father’s guards arrived just as they finished with me. Marco recovered from his wounds, but I was not so lucky.”

Emilia indicates to her face with her free hand and as she does, her shawl slips down her arm revealing the twisted burn scars coating her forearm.

Gianna gasps softly, and then her cheeks flush red. “I’m so sorry.”

Emilia waves her off with a warm smile. “It was a lifetime ago, my dear. I’m thirty-seven now and still going strong!” She laughs, then her grip becomes like iron as she coughs harshly. “Anyway, I wanted to die for a long time, but Marco kept me strong. He kept me hidden and to bring me peace, he told the world I was dead. Father went along with it because of guilt, I suspect. I didn’t want to be a piece of meat married off at the next convenience. I’d been meat once. Never again,”

Gianna glances at me. Her expression is oddly soft, but I can’t quite decipher it. Anger still fuzzes the edges of my mind and her very presence irritates me.

“That’s the real reason I needed a wife,” I say tightly. “My father is growing more and more desperate as the world around us changes. He’s seeing threats everywhere and thinks we are weak. He wants to reveal Emilia and marry her off to a family he thinks will strengthen us, and I refuse to let that happen. So now, we are married, and I will raise our family on our own merit not through an archaic wedding.”

“Is that the real reason he was so furious?” Gianna asks. “He wants a union and you took that from him?”

“My sister is not for sale,” I mutter. “Perhaps. I can’t say for sure. But I definitely fucked up his plans.”

“I am sorry, dear,” Emilia says. “When Marco told me what he had done, I was furious that he roped some poor girl into the mess of our lives.”

“It was necessary,” I snap at her, then quickly reel myself in.

“Is it?” Emilia looks at me with sad eyes. “For years, you have blamed yourself for that night when you were only a kid. Just like me. You have protected me with your entire life and now this? There could have been another way.”

“There was none,” I say softly. “If not Gianna then it would have been someone else. Someone less fucking nosy for sure.”

“Oh stop.” Emilia releases my hand to slap my wrist. “Gianna, my dear. Despite my brute brother’s reaction, I hope you understand that his anger comes from a place of protectiveness, not malice.”

Gianna shoots me a small glare, not looking like she believes that at all.

“I have a small team here that helps me, a trusted team. You’re the first new person I’ve met in … oh, twenty years?” Emilia chuckles. “But I am glad we got to meet.”

“I’m so sorry,” Gianna says weakly. “I had … I had absolutely no idea. I swear I won’t tell anyone. I will forget this place even exists!”

“Don’t you dare,” Emilia laughs. “I would very much like for us to have tea. Maybe without the ogre.”

“Ha ha,” I mutter, rolling my eyes.

“You will be looked after here,” Emilia says and she leans forward, placing one frail hand on top of Gianna’s. “I promise that you are safe. Not everything here is as it seems. You need to remember that.”

Gianna nods silently and her eyes drop to the table. She looks stunned and pale. My anger calms slightly.

If there’s more to say, we don’t get a chance because my phone blares to life. I answer immediately and Anton’s panicked voice floods my ear.

“Boss!” he yells. “Gianna is gone! We’ve looked everywhere but we can’t find her and⁠—”

I hang up immediately and stand. “They’ve finally noticed you’re missing,” I say flatly. “Time to go. Emilia.” I lean down and gently kiss her forehead. “Take your medicine. I will come and visit again soon.”

“Please do,” she croaks. “And you, Gianna. Come and see me too.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” I sigh tightly. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” Emilia settles back into her chair and I send the alert to her team to return. Gianna rises and smiles at Emilia.

“I will come back, if I can. Thank you, and again, I am so sorry.”

“Don’t worry, dear,” Emilia says. “It’s just like Marco to find someone as curious as him.”

As soon as we walk around the plants, I grab Gianna by the arm and shove her up against the wall. Her eyes widen and she grips my wrist, staring into my eyes as the anger swells in my heart.

“If you breathe a word of this, or even a hint to anyone—anyone—or endanger my sister in any way, I will make you wish you were dead. Are we clear?”