Falling for the Mafia Boss

Chapter Three

Mia POV

The bouncer tries to stop me when I open the door to the club. It’s only 9:00 pm so they are still setting up for the night and he hasn’t made his way outside to screen people walking in yet. Only a few customers sit at the bar babysitting drinks.

“I’m Mia Romano. Where’s Donnie?” I yell over the music.

He backs away, holding his hands up in surrender and pointing up the stairs to a hallway. I take the steps two at a time and barge into the door down the hall to the far left that reads “Office.” The lighting is dim, and it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust.

Once the darkness settles and I can see again, I lock eyes with the sexiest man I have ever seen. My heart no longer pounds in my chest because of the attack, but because of the excitement of seeing him again. Lorenzo, my brother's best friend, and my long-time crush, stares back at me. I let my greedy eyes rake down his body as he stands. He is taller than I remember, standing above Donnie by a smidge. His hair is black and shiny like a true Italian. His eyes are blue making him stand out from the others in the room who have traditionally brown eyes. His body is solid muscle but still slim. He is absolute perfection.

He has always been very handsome but now, he's a God. I catch myself feeling the same butterflies in my belly I used to when I was a kid. I recall how deeply I was in love with him when we were younger. I fantasized about marrying him and having children with his last name, but he was older than me and was my brother’s best friend. He was forbidden.

Donnie is sitting at a round table with him and four other men, all dressed in suits, smoking cigars and playing cards with women who look like strippers standing around them.

Donnie pushes a half-naked girl from his lap and stands to his feet. “Mia what the f**k happened to you?” he rushes over to me and grabs my face roughly, looking down at my busted bleeding lip.

I remember that I was just attacked and start to cry all over again. He pulls me into his arms and hugs me, placing his head on top of mine like he used to do when we were kids. “Talk to me.” He says into my hair, his tone stern but concerned like my father's.

“He-he hit me, a-an-and then tried to choke me.” I stutter out between the sobs.

A chair screeches on the ground behind my brother as his other best friend, Marco rises to his feet. My heart flutters when I lock eyes with Enzo again, but the good feeling seeing him gives me, goes away quickly. As he studies the state in which I am in; barefoot, bloody and with a busted lip, his expression grows dark and murderous. I know that look far too well, he’s pissed.

Besides Donnie, Enzo was always my protector when we were growing up. If anybody caused me harm or hurt my feelings, Enzo would make them regret it. I have had a huge crush on him my entire life. He was my first kiss and I used to fantasize about him being my last.

Donnie holds me out at arms link, his murderous expression matching Enzo’s. “Who hit you?” he asks. The tone of his voice alone fuels my fear.

“He’s been cheating on me, and when I confronted him…” I murmur. The air cannot get into my lungs quickly enough to turn my thoughts into words. I start to gasp for air, my fear causing anxiety to steal my breath. I have never gone through something so scary before in my life. I was certain Dylan was going to kill me. The humanity in his eyes was replaced with pure hate, and all I did was confront him.

“Who’s ch- Wait your boyfriend did this to you?” I nod my head while I continue to sob. “He hit you and then he tried to choke you?” he asks with the thick Italian accent he only gets when he’s livid. I nod my head again like a bobble head, not knowing what else to do. He lets me go, nearly dropping me to the floor.

“Enzo, let’s go whack this guy. Hitting my baby sister - Who does he think he is?” Donnie calls behind him. “Marco, you may need to do some spring cleaning.” Donnie tries to push past me, but I get in his way.

“What do you mean whack him, Donnie?” My eyes catch onto something shiny past my brother. I gasp when I see Enzo c**k a gun and put it in a holster underneath his arm. His eyes burn into mine. A silent promise to kill the man who broke my heart. “Donnie, Enzo, you guys can’t kill him. His uncle is a big-time detective. What are you part of the f*****g mob?” My fear is no longer fueled by Dylan, but fueled by what is to come of this situation. Would Enzo or Donnie really shoot someone?

He ignores me and catches a gun that Enzo throws his way. He holsters it too and snatches his keys from the desk. “Take me to the hotel.” He orders me, grabbing me by the arm and pushing me out the door.

I walk to his car, barefoot, feeling numb. Everything that has happened within the last hour feels like a distant memory. All I can focus on is the fact that I am being led by two angry men caring loaded guns at their sides. I fear for Dylan even though I shouldn’t, not after what he did to me, but he doesn’t deserve to die.

“What room?” Donnie asks as Enzo turns into the parking lot of the hotel. He stops by the front door in the middle of the lane without a care in the world that this is marked a no parking section.

“Suite 202.” I answer him. He scoffs and gets out of the car. “Donnie, I need my stuff.” I tell him when he shoves me back into the car as I try to crawl out. “Donnie, my phone, my suitcases, everything’s in there with him. I have to get it.” I tell him as I try to get out again.

When Donnie tries to shove me back into the car Enzo steps in front of him. “Calm down Donnie, let her get her stuff so she doesn’t have to come back here.” He scolds my brother. I’m thankful to have Lorenzo on my side.

“Keep your f*****g mouth shut, Mia. I don’t want to hear any s**t. I’m going to handle this my way.” He scolds me as we walk into the lobby.

As soon as I open the door Dylan walks towards me and starts to rant. “Where the fu-“

Donnie pushes past me and punches Dylan straight in the mouth. Blood spills from his now busted lip. I want to laugh and ask him how a busted lip feels but I stay silent. Dylan falls back onto the floor and looks up at Donnie scared. “You hit my baby sister?” Donnie asks Dylan.

Enzo turns to me speaking softly, “Get your stuff Mia. I won’t let him touch you.”

I run past them and start gathering up my things. I throw my perfume, clothes, and toiletries into one of the bags. Donnie is cussing at Dylan, but I don’t know what he’s saying. I’m only trying to focus on getting everything I can so that I don't ever have to come back for anything. I don’t want to see Dylan again, not after tonight.

Enzo grabs one of my bags from me and ushers me towards the door.

“You’re not leaving me b***h!” Dylan protests and stands to his feet trying to grab me. Donnie and Enzo both pull out their guns.

Enzo drops my bag and goes for Dylan. He uses his free hand to grab Dylan by the face and shoves the gun in his mouth. “Watch your f*****g mouth.” He warns him through clenched teeth.

I scream and Donnie clamps his hand over my mouth. “Take her outta here Enzo, she doesn’t need to see what I plan on doing to this guy,” Donnie orders his friend and shoves me towards the door.

Lorenzo drops Dylan’s face and picks up my bag once more. Donnie kicks Dylan in the chest and stands over him, pointing the gun at his head. I try to run to Donnie, to stop him, but Lorenzo grabs me by the waist and pulls me from the room despite my attempts to get out of his grip. I kick and try to fight him because I don’t want Donnie to kill Dylan, but nothing I do works. Enzo is so strong.

He takes me down the stairwell and out the back door. He throws me into the back seat of the car and gets in with me. Tears are staining my cheeks and the empty feeling in my heart only grows. If Donnie kills him, he will go to jail, and I don’t want to lose him too. I just lost my fiancé, and I’m on the brink of losing my dad.

“He’s not going to kill him, right?” I find the courage to blubber out.

“Naw, he’s probably going to ruff him up a bit. Scare him. Tell him to never show his face here again.” He turns to me. Even in the darkness of the car, I can see his face through the shadows. The face that far too many times, I have dreamed about in ways I shouldn’t. “But he should kill him. I should have pulled the trigger myself and would have if you weren’t standing beside me. What kind of man would hit the one they love, Mia? He does not deserve your tears.” his comment jerks tears from my eyes and I begin to cry all over again. Enzo pulls my face into his stomach and lets me cry while he holds me in his lap. He rubs my hair soothingly, letting me feel the many emotions that are flooding me. The familiar smell of his cologne comforts me and reminds me of how much I have missed him, how much I secretly love him. Although I just watched him shove a gun in someone’s mouth, I don’t fear him. I feel safe in his arms like I always have.

I hear Donnie get into the driver's seat of the car. Neither he nor Enzo say anything on the drive back to the club.

I wake up in Enzo’s arms as he’s carrying me up the steps as if I were his bride. He follows Donnie down the hall of the club that leads to the office. They enter the office and Enzo gently sets me down on a couch over in the corner. Another man enters the room carrying my bags from the car. I thank Enzo and then point to the mascara smudged on the belly of his white dress shirt. “I’ll buy you a new shirt,” I tell him.

Enzo chuckles, “Forget about it.” He says this in the most authentic Italian accent that brings back so many memories.

He was always the daredevil out of the group, and it excited me. Hanging out with him was like tiptoeing on the edge of good and bad, or right and wrong. He was kind to me when Donnie’s other friends would tease me and one time, he even got into a fistfight with Marco over me. Marco kept calling me names and hit me in the face with a pillow when Donnie wasn’t looking. I remember Lorenzo tackling him and telling him not to hit girls. He was so sweet to me, yet fierce with everyone else.

Those three were always inseparable. Wherever Lorenzo went, Donnie and Marco were his shadows. After the guys graduated high school, Lorenzo got caught up in some trouble and moved to Italy for a while. Donnie was lost without direction for a little bit, but he and Marco grew closer and stuck together. I didn’t know that Lorenzo would ever come back to New York. I thought he would be gone forever. Hell, he acted like he wasn’t coming back.

The day he left is the day he kissed me. It wasn’t anything more than a lingering peck on the lips, but it was my first kiss, and it was from Lorenzo. We were standing outside my parent’s house. I found it odd that he had come to the house to see me instead of Donnie. Lorenzo told me he was catching a flight to Italy and that he didn’t plan on coming back. I remember his warm hand as he cupped my face, his thumb stroking my cheek before he leaned down and gently kissed my lips. “Sei sempre nel mio cuore (always in my heart).” He whispered into my ear when he wrapped me in a hug.

I was fifteen when I had my first kiss, a little old compared to the other girls in my high school, but it was worth the wait. I never told anybody about our kiss, or what he said to me… and I’m sure he didn’t tell anybody either. Because the truth is Donnie would kill him.

Donnie points to a door next to the only bookshelf in the room. “There’s the bathroom. Why don’t you take a shower, put on something nice and come join us downstairs? We have a celebrity coming tonight who I think you would enjoy meeting.”

“I’d rather not go tonight, Donnie. Can you just take me home?”

“You can’t show up to ma and pops right now. They would ask questions and you still have blood on your face. You’re going to have to stay at my place tonight and I can’t leave because the celebrity is my special-“

Lorenzo interrupts him, “I can take her to your place and watch over her.” He offers.

Donnie thinks about it for a while and then nods. “Thanx.” He tells him.

Enzo helps me with my bags and leads me out to a sporty BMW. He opens my door and gestures for me to get in.

He lets me pick a playlist on his phone for the ride over. Donnie’s name flashing on the top of the screen interrupts my music browsing, so I hand back to Enzo. He answers and talks to my brother for a bit. He hangs up and hands me his phone back. He stops the car in the middle of the road and does a U-turn. “Donnie forgot that he has guests staying at his place. You can stay at mine. You okay with that?” he asks, and I agree.

We drive for just a short time before he pulls into a parking garage. He has to use a keycard to get onto the top floor. After he parks, he comes around and opens my door. I smile when he gestures for me to get out of the car. “You don’t have to open the door for me Enzo.” I tease him as grabs the bags from the trunk.

“Forget about it,” he says with a shy expression painted on his face.

When Lorenzo opens the door to his apartment, I am shocked at how big and tidy it is. A place like this in New York City must have cost him a fortune. He kicks his shoes off at the front door and walks down the hall, throwing his keys in a little glass bowl on the entry table.

I take my boots off and set them next to his shoes. I follow his path down the hall. Motion lights illuminate the baseboards as we walk. He opens the door to a huge bedroom and motions for me to come in.

One of the walls of the room is completely glass and looks out at the city. The lights from the various skyscrapers look like stars in the distance. There is a huge bed in the corner of the room that is made of black sheets and bedding. The room is mostly empty except for a few leather chairs, some tables, a dresser, and a mirror. There are two more doors that I assume go to a bathroom and closet. He sets my bags in one of the chairs and opens the door to the bathroom for me. “This is my room; you can stay in here. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Wait, Lorenzo, I can sleep on the couch I don’t mind,” I try to protest, but he gives me a funny look and shakes his head.

He points to the bathroom “Clean up.” he orders.

His shower is a walk-in shower that has several shower heads. It’s completely glass so I make sure to lock the door. He has his and her sinks but neither one of them has much to show that he lives with someone or even lives here himself. I put on a pair of night shorts and a plain t-shirt to sleep in.

When I exit the bathroom I smell something divine. I follow the aroma down the hall and into the kitchen. Lorenzo is standing over a skillet. He spoons some pasta out of a pot and tosses it into the sauce as a chef would. He notices me watching him and asks if I’m hungry. I sit at his bar and watch as he plates the pasta. He sets my plate in front of me and then sets one on the counter next to me. He pours two glasses of water and sits down. When he catches me staring at him he smiles. “What?”

“I didn’t know you could cook,” I tell him. “Actually, I didn’t even know you came back to New York.”

He takes a drink of his water and nods. “I learned to cook in Italy from my grandfather. I came back a few days after you left for college. Donnie had a business proposal for me that was too good to not buy into”

I scoff “What like the mob.” I joke. I notice Lorenzo stops chewing next to me. He wipes his mouth with a napkin nervously. “What was that about tonight anyway? Since when do you and Donnie carry guns and talk about whacking people.” I use air quotes when I use the mob term.

Enzo’s chest rumbles as he laughs at me. “Mia if I had a beautiful sister like you and her piece of s**t boyfriend smacked her around because she caught him cheating, I would threaten to kill him too. We carry guns because this is New York City. Now eat your pasta before it gets cold.”

His choice of words makes me smile. For one, he called me beautiful, and for two, no true Italian likes cold pasta.

He cleans up the kitchen while I finish eating and once I’m done, he cleans my bowl too. He walks over to me and kisses my cheek. “Buona note, kitten.” He whispers to me.

“What does that mean?” I ask and giggle because his midnight stubble tickles me.

“I said, Good night. What Italian girl doesn’t know Italian?” he teases.

“Me,” I confess, and we both laugh.

I retreat to his room for the night while he retreats to the couch.