
Marrying the Mafia Boss,The Judge's Rebellious Daughter
Chapter 3
"See you later, Vito." I didn't turn around, the words tumbling out fast as I took off, walking as quickly as I could without drawing attention.
I didn't actually start running for the stairs until I was out the main doors, and I was only halfway up when I heard the door slam open behind me. "Wait!"
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I muttered under my breath, speeding up.
I climbed the stairs, finally reaching the hidden door that led to the roof access, smiling as I shut it behind me. For the first time in my life, I was grateful my mother had "covered" for my identity her way—the halo of a judge's family was like an insulator.
I climbed the steps to the roof, pushed the door open, and was immediately enveloped by bright sunlight and howling wind. I slid down against the brick wall, took a bite of my apple, and opened the book.
I did what I'd wanted to do in the cafeteria—lifted the book to my face and took a deep breath. I stayed on the roof most of the day, my thumb rubbing the pages, smiling at the tiny notes in the corners. His handwriting was messy, with a few spots where the pen had bled.
There was a note from his mother tucked inside, along with the gifting date: July 23rd, 2007.
The "boss's" tenth birthday. I knew this probably seemed creepy. I didn't care at all.
I made it back downstairs just before the bell, passing the open door of the chemistry classroom. I made the mistake of glancing inside as I passed, my gaze colliding with Vito's oceanic blue eyes. It was one of those dazed moments everyone dreams of, my lips parting slightly—just as the bell rang, jerking me out of my trance.
"Shit." I ran down the hall, heading for my motorcycle. I'd just started the engine and peeled out when he walked outside, his eyes catching my speeding taillight.
That night, Mother showed no mercy.
Just because Vito had touched my shoulder. I'd made contact with a goddamn Mafia family leader. Her liquor bottle connected with my cheek, cracking the bone and slicing the skin open. The alcohol inside made the wound burn like hell.
When she was done, I went upstairs and began punishing myself.
I stared at my body in the mirror, clad only in my underwear. My thumb ran over the razor blade. I closed my eyes and dragged it down my thigh.
They were too thick, too much fat, not slender like they should be. Not like Paige's.
I couldn't help but wonder if he'd accept me if he knew about our "arranged marriage."
My hair wasn't a deep brown. The family I grew up in was a fucking mess, not to mention the extent to which I hurt myself surpassed my mother's. I only knew my father's name but had never tried to find him. I just knew he was Everett Colombo, from a Mafia family in the next borough over. I didn't know if he had other family, and until now, I hadn't truly cared.
I couldn't help but fantasize that if I had a normal identity, maybe I would have confessed to Vito already. He might have been caressing me in bed right now, and everything would be so much simpler.
I went to bed without cleaning the cuts on my legs, my mother's sobs echoing down the hall. She still loved my father, using her connections and private investigators to spy on his life whenever she got the chance. And after each spying session, she hit me harder. So I just closed my eyes and waited for the punishment.
The cut on my cheek had healed, but there was now a bruise on the cheekbone. Thankfully, the bone had set, but it was still sore to the touch. I closed my eyes, walked down the stairs, held my breath, and slid along the wall.
I exhaled only after the front door closed behind me. I swung my leg over the bike, turned the key. I'd probably gotten an hour of sleep before Mother stumbled into my room. She'd woken me by wrapping both hands around my throat. I knew there were bruises there too, but thankfully, I could hide them with a turtleneck.
When I pulled into the parking lot, it seemed like everyone from the "Viscotti crew" had their eyes on me. I parked my bike, sighed, killed the engine, and swung my leg off. As I was chaining it to the rack, I heard footsteps—Andrew, James, and Vito himself walking towards me.
"Hey, Ella." Andrew waved at me. Vito somehow found my eyes through the helmet visor. I took a deep breath and reached up to take the helmet off. I heard Andrew and James suck in a sharp breath as my hair fell, covering part of my cheek.
A low growl rumbled from Vito's chest. He stared at me, his eyes darkening. "Who the fuck hit you?"
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