Bulletproof Baby: An Age Gap, Surprise Pregnancy Mafia Romance (Mafia Mysteries)

Why me?

Flashes of men fighting with Valentino swallow up every free inch of thought as I lay on the pull-out sofa in the spare bedroom of Frankie’s apartment. The room is more like a catch-all space for every piece of random furniture and workout equipment that my cousin owns. The walls feel like they’re closing in as I toss and turn to get some sleep.

A glance at my phone tells me that the sun is coming up by the time I feel the weight of my eyes closing. The sound of the city coming to life lets me know it’s at least after seven in the morning. But not seeing anything from Valentino is disheartening. After everything that happened, I’m not sure if he’s upset that I chose to stay here instead of going wherever he planned to take me. I’m kicking myself as it dawns on me that I chose comfort over safety, but I can’t just trust Valentino. Can I?

I want to. My eyes stare up at the dreadful popcorn ceilings with the chestnut-bladed ceiling fan. Petal-shaped sconces hold light bulbs in its center. I force myself to study every line to simply get my mind off the what-ifs.

Valentino has gone from a complete stranger to the owner of my virginity. He saved me from Saul. However, in my fear and desperation to save my parents, I allowed Valentino to steal my trust. The only thing I can actually trust about Val is that he wants to keep me safe, but what if it all comes back to hurt me? Being with him hasn’t done anything to stop Saul from extorting my family.

When the door creaks open, I barely move my face to see that it’s Frankie poking his head into the room.

‘Sorry about the clutter,’ he says. ‘I’m going out for breakfast. Do you need anything? Coffee? Breakfast? A zanny?’

I giggle. ‘No. Anti-anxiety meds make me feel like a zombie. I just need to get some rest for now. Thanks for letting me crash here, Frankie.’

‘Girl, don’t start that again. What else was I supposed to do when you called me at like three-something in the morning? Tell you to sleep in Central Park, or worse, on the ferry? Have you gotten any sleep at all?’

‘No, I wish.’ Instead of insisting he let me sleep, I push myself to sit up, grateful for the distraction, if even for a moment. The bed creaks while the bottom third threatens to fold in. Frankie laughs as he plops down to stop the rickety thing from moving.

‘I guess I should get rid of this thing,’ he says, patting the bed’s thin mattress. ‘Oh shit, you remember when we had to hide that weed between the cushions. Nonna couldn’t figure out where that smell was coming from.’

The flashes of our immaturity make me laugh softly. I pull my knees up to my chest, resting my chin on them as I wrap my arms around my shins. ‘Wow. I can’t believe you remember that.’

‘Yeah. I thought she was gonna have my ass shipped back to Sicily.’

‘I would have never let her do that,’ I tell him. ‘Besides, I think she was all bark when it came to us but wouldn’t let anyone else get away with anything.’

‘Yeah, because I was about to say that woman had a hell of a bite. Remember when she showed up to school after the fight?’ he asks with glee in his eyes.

Dear, sweet Nonna Mirante was the heart and soul of my mother’s side of the family. It’s been about six years since she died. This apartment is the last remnant of her. Some days I can still hear her singing her favorite songs, watching her TV shows, and cooking up a feast for us. The days and nights I spent here while my parents built their construction company were some of the best times of my life.

A smile spreads across my face at the memories that flood in every time I speak to Frankie about the good old days.

I can’t help but recall the mayhem. ‘It wasn’t much of a fight. Those kids out of Saint Christopher High had no idea that two cousins from the Lower East Side could handle themselves. They learned to watch how they speak to me and not put their hands on you.’

Frankie leans back, resting on his elbow to prop himself up on the flimsy sofa bed. ‘It’s crazy to think about it now. No one would dare put their hands on me at my size today, but back then? I was what? Eighty pounds soaking wet? We got into so many fights just because they thought a gay kid couldn’t play sports or throw hands.’

‘It was crazy, wasn’t it? I remember having to run all the way from one side of the school to the other—getting yelled at by the dean and the soccer coach—just to get to those guys fighting you by that park. I wonder if that little park is still there.’

‘It’s a vegan soul food spot now,’ Frankie says. ‘Yeah, Cousin Lia to the rescue. None of those boys wanted to mess with me after you slugged, what’s his name?’

‘Trevor Hanes,’ I volunteer a name I vowed to scrub from my memory. ‘Now? I’m getting bullied and shuffled around by mob bosses.’

‘Isn’t this every girl’s dream? To have two men fighting over her?’ Frankie asks.

‘Ha,’ I scoff. ‘It would be fine if it weren’t two of the most dangerous men in the city. I’m not worried about Valentino. He’ll keep me safe. It’s Saul that raises the hairs on the back of my neck.’

‘Let’s get out of the house,’ Frankie volunteers, sympathy in his eyes and an understandably aloof expression. Frankie likes a good distraction. ‘We can go shopping, grab something to eat, and make a plan to figure out what the fuck is going on with you and how to get you out of whatever shit is going on.’

‘I have a better idea. Instead of talking about my feelings, I’m going to sleep for the next ten hours. Then we can go out and get shit-faced.’

‘Yes, let’s ignore our problems. Avoidance is the answer,’ Frankie says, rolling his eyes as he pushes himself off the bed.

‘I’m not ignoring them, I’m just giving myself time to process what the fuck just happened. So much has gone down, and it’s only been a week since I’ve met Valentino.’ My mind reels over everything since I allowed myself to participate in a virgin auction.

Frankie sighs, an expression of concern riding his face. Before he walks out, he nods. ‘Fine. I’m going to grab some food and I’ll be back. We can go to Zollo’s tonight.’

‘That works perfectly for me. Thanks Frankie.’

‘Anytime, Lia. Now, go to sleep. If you have trouble doing that, there’s some melatonin gummies in the medicine cabinet. Love you.’ He leaves me alone, closing the door behind him.

It doesn’t take long for me to doze off. The excitement and terror from the night before weighs down on me like a blanket during a winter storm. I wish I’d taken the melatonin. Perhaps it would have staved off the nightmares. Eventually, my mind shuts off and my body lets me sleep.

The aroma of fresh pizza lures me out of my slumber. I’m barely able to open my eyes, but my stomach growling forces me to get up. After glancing at my phone, it’s not the ten hours of sleep I wanted. However, eight will do. It’s enough to get me into the kitchen where a stack of pizza boxes sits on the coffee table beside a bottle of vodka. It’s barely five o’clock.

I can hear music thumping from Frankie’s room. Fresh slice in hand, I take a bite and bop my head to the beat. The walls and floor vibrate along with the rhythm of an up-tempo EDM song. Every step closer makes me smile, getting me excited for the night ahead. Finally, after a fucking traumatic week, I can have some fun.

I’m just about to knock on his bedroom door when Frankie swings it open. There’s a drink in his hand and a smile on his face. He passes me his drink, pumping his fist in the air before dragging me into his room.

There’s a stark difference between Frankie’s room and the rest of the apartment. It’s the only space with modern touches, like LED lights, sleek furniture, and a large lacquer bed set. There is a stack of shopping bags in front of the bed, with a few from one of my favorite boutiques.

One of the reasons I hate shopping is my figure can be hard to fit. Still, there’s three dresses laid out on his bed. All of them black. One is sleeveless with a corset top and bandage skirt. The second has two thin spaghetti straps with a joke of chicken cutlet nipple covers that are supposed to be strapless, backless, and sticky. I absolutely hate them. The last dress is a one-sleeve number with the thick bandage design wrapping around the entire dress like a mummy.

‘Well, don’t just gawk, honey. Try them on!’ Frankie says from behind me, turning down the music.

I finish my slice, take a sip of the drink, and cringe. It’s all vodka with a splash of juice. I put on the first dress and can’t help but laugh. I bend over at the waist, talking to Frankie from between my legs. ‘Absolutely the fuck not!’

‘It’s not that bad. All you see is thigh. Lots and lots of thigh.’

‘That’s not helping.’ I laugh, standing back up. ‘All it takes is one wrong move and I’m being arrested for indecent exposure. Don’t even get me started on how controlled my core has to be to simply move in this corset shit. I’m not doing that chicken cutlet pasty shit either. Holy thigh chafe and sweaty nipples. Besides the more I drink, I’m more likely to yank them out and fling them somewhere. No. We’re going to Zollo’s. I promise no one is going to be interested in me.’

I take another sip of the drink, getting hotter the quicker the blackberry vodka takes effect.

‘Don’t do that. You’re gorgeous and we’re going to have a great time. People are going to be all over you. You should definitely come out with me more often instead of hanging around with smelly, hot, muscly, construction workers wielding big—’ He pauses as the image he paints comes into his mind clearly. ‘You know what? Get me a job at the site.’

Laughter erupts out of me. ‘No. They’re literally focused on work most of the time. They did ogle me a bit in my jeans the other day, but that’s typical. It’s never going anywhere.’

‘Why? Oh wait, that’s right. Hunky billionaire mob boss is in love with you.’

‘Valentino is not in love with me. At the most, he’s infatuated. At the worst, I’m just a pawn in his game to destroy Saul Caputo.’

Frankie nods, a hint of seriousness taking over as he speaks. ‘And this Caputo guy, he’s the other don fucking with you?’

‘Yeah.’ I struggle, still wondering how much I should tell Frankie. I decide to tell him just about last night. ‘I, uh, Val was at my house last night when these guys broke in. I don’t know what they wanted, but Valentino took care of them. He protected me and I think Caputo is behind it. He’s been intimidating my parents.’

Frankie side-eyes me. ‘Dons don’t intimidate people, Lia. Especially people like Zio and Zia. Is he forcing them to work for him or something? Make people wear cement shoes so he can toss them in the Hudson?’

I can tell he wants me to laugh, to shrug it off as not being that big of a deal. But guilt has a stranglehold on me. I don’t want Frankie to become a victim by being so close to me. It was too easy for Valentino to find his apartment. I don’t think it’s going to be that difficult for Saul to find me here. Hopefully, Valentino’s holding him off for now.

My mind wanders back to Valentino, and I glance at my phone. Still nothing. The absence of his concern has me spiraling with doubt.

‘Nothing like that,’ I tell Frankie. ‘I don’t want to talk about their arrangement. Let me ask you something, completely off-subject. But, if I gave my virginity to Val and then all of this shit happens after … the average person would walk away from this, right?’

‘Girl, I’m the wrong guy to ask. I’ve walked away from potential boyfriends because they didn’t put the shopping carts back in the cart return.’

That gets a chuckle out of me. ‘Seriously, Valentino’s crazy to want to hang around.’

‘That’s where I’m going to stop you. That man showed up at my doorstep. He had no idea who I was or what I was capable of. He could have caught a bullet charging at my door like that. Crazy to want to hang around you, you being the keyword here.’

Frankie pauses, giving it some more thought and says, ‘You know what? He just might be a little crazy because showing up here is definitely giving off an obsessed vibe. Cut him some slack and maybe see if he reaches out in a few days or something. Take it from there. Give each other time to process whatever is happening.’

I take Frankie’s advice with a grain of salt because I don’t want time. A few months shy of my twenty-third birthday, my virginity is gone, and the man it belongs to? I have no idea where I stand with him. I know what Frankie’s saying has a ring of truth to it.

Valentino isn’t going to extend himself as much as he has without a good reason. I’m just hoping the reason is more than getting even with Saul. I have to remind myself that this is what I asked for. I want my virginity gone, but I can’t help the tinge of regret of opening myself up to this doubt.

Sex is not supposed to mean so much. It’s just something adults do. It doesn’t make promises. It doesn’t break hearts. It doesn’t make rules. It doesn’t make people fall in love. Shit. Is that what I truly want?

Love?

In all the chaos, the confusion amid my typhoon of emotions, I want love and concern. I want someone to care for me, about me, because at the moment, it doesn’t feel like anyone does. My parents offered this stupid option of auctioning my time. Saul wants me as a notch in his belt of sexual conquests.

Valentino doesn’t want anything from me. Even if I do help him throw a few figurative jabs at a rival don, the only thing Valentino wants for me is to be safe.

This attachment to him is problematic. He didn’t sign up to be my savior, but here I am wanting to put him on a pedestal, wanting him to yearn for me the way I desire his attention. I have to do the right thing. I need to thank Valentino for everything he’s done, and we need to part ways. When I think about it more, the more I feel it’s the best decision possible for me.

After figuring out what I’m going to say, I know the best way to have this conversation is face-to-face. But I don’t want to be brave right now. A text message will have to be enough. I pull out my phone to text Valentino.

‘What are you doing?’ Frankie asks.

‘I’m going to text him that he’s done more than enough for me and that it’s time for us to be people who used to know each other.’

‘Ew, don’t send that.’ Frankie shakes his head with disgust, reaching for my phone. ‘I literally just said give it time, as in give it a few days. Not time as in a few minutes from what I just fucking told you to do.’

‘Don’t get sassy with me. I’ve literally seen you delete and block a guy’s number because he said he enjoys eating vegan lasagna. You didn’t give him time.’

‘That’s not the same. First of all, la Nonna si rotolerebbe nella tomba.‘

‘She would not roll in her grave,’ I reply, rolling my eyes. ‘She loved making veggie lasagna.’

‘Loving to make a dish because someone you care for enjoys it, is not the same as ruining one of my favorite childhood meals,’ Frankie reiterates. ‘It’s fucking sacrilege. Do that to eggplant parm or something that’s literally not my favorite thing in the world to eat.’

‘Oh, and I thought that eating⁠—’

Frankie throws his hand over my mouth. ‘Don’t you dare say that out loud. Unless you want to swap sexcapade stories. We can go tit for tat.’

‘I don’t have enough to tell yet.’

‘You have plenty, but only if you’re comfortable.’

‘I’ll tell you what’s making me uncomfortable. This stupid dress. Get me out of this,’ I tell him as I desperately reach around for the zipper in the back of the corseted bodice.

We never make it to Zollos, opting to stay home with the pizza and vodka to make a bunch of memories and inside jokes that will drive our family crazy every time we get together. Frankie’s advice is solid, and as every day passes, my attachment to Valentino lessens.

It bothers me less and less that he’s not blowing up my phone or showing up at Frankie’s place unannounced. I still want his attention, but I know there’s a lot happening right now. Our only communication typically comes when he’s arranging transportation for me to go somewhere. He doesn’t want any of Saul’s people to know I haven’t been kidnapped. It’s a tiresome and redundant routine and conversation. However, by the time three weeks pass, I’m beginning to rethink how much space I want and if this is truly the safest option for me.

Frankie and I are great roommates. We dodge the important questions and conversations when it comes to my life and focus on his life. There are a few nights where he doesn’t come home, leaving me scared out of my mind, but he always turns up with a tawdry tale of his “sexcapades” as he likes to call them. It makes me crave to get out and do something. Hell, I even miss going to work. My parents are happy to give me some time off. I leave out the thwarted kidnapping attempt, but they’re genuinely happy to give me time to take care of myself. God forbid they take care of me.

When a Friday night rolls around and Frankie finally has off, we decide to head out to enjoy ourselves. I can’t get a hold of Valentino, but I’m sure that by now, Saul’s no longer looking for me. There’s no way that Saul believes I’m being held captive this entire time, right? Valentino’s probably made it safe for me to go out, and the security measures are for both our benefits, peace of mind and all. Going out with Frankie is going to be fun and exciting. I can escape the chaos.

I even put on the one-sleeve dress that enhances my thick hourglass shape. The shoes on my feet hurt like hell, but they’re cute. Frankie throws on a pair of dark jeans with a dark navy button-up shirt. We look amazing.

I’m definitely ready for a night out. However, once we step outside of Frankie’s building, something feels off. My eyes scan the street as I search for the car that Valentino lets me use. The security transport comes with a driver who doubles as a bodyguard. That would make me feel far more comfortable than this dress. Fuck, I should have slipped deodorant between my chafing thighs. They’ll be raw by morning with the way Frankie likes to dance until sunrise.

Frankie offers to call a cab or hail a taxi. However, it’s pointless as a group of men come out of the shadows. They’re efficient, quick, and far more professional than the ones who broke into my apartment weeks ago. Valentino warned me this might happen. He warned me that someone would find out the first team failed and would try again.

My eyes go wide just as I see Frankie go down. Fight or flight kicks in as I kick off one shoe, readying myself to run. An arm grips me around the waist as a cloth covers my face. A faintly sweet smell of a chemical cleanser swarms my nostrils. My inhale is deep, instinctual, and gives me little time to realize what’s happening. The world around me fades to black.