Arranged Mafia Marriage

92



Karma

At least, last night, he had come to bed at midnight, and I had woken up enough to wrap myself around my husband and fall asleep. He’d kissed me tenderly, had run his hands down my body, aroused me to fever pitch, only to slip my nightgown and my panties aside and slide his fingers into me. He’d slid down my body, eaten me out, then he’d risen over me and pinched my clit as he’d commanded me to come. And I had. I had shattered right there, and then, promptly fallen asleep, sated.

It was almost noon when I woke up to find a letter on his pillow, asking me to peek out of the window. I had, and had cried out when I had seen a car… Not just any car, a Maserati. A twin of his…but in black, with a red line running across its side, and wrapped up in a bow. It’s my car. My car! OMG! I had showered, changed, eaten a late breakfast, then rushed down to examine my new toy.

It is beautiful, with sleek lines that remind me of him, a color dark enough to hint at his growly personality, and a motor under the hood that is powerful enough to outpace any other car on the road. A bit like him, really… And also, like me, if I am being honest. It’s a twin of his car, and he sees me as his equal enough to gift it to me.

Now, I stand staring at it when my phone rings. I glance at the screen then answer it, “Hey,” I say softly.

“Hey, yourself.” His deep voice sends shivers down my back. “What do you think?”

“What do I think of what?”

“You know what,” he laughs, “do you like it?”

“I… I love it,” I blubber as a tear streaks down my cheek. “When are you coming to teach me how to drive it?”

“About that, ah,” he sighs, “something came up.”

“Knew it,” I hunch my shoulders. “So, you can’t come?”

“I can’t, but Xander will.”

“But I wanted to have the first lesson with you.”

“I know, baby,” he murmurs. “I am so sorry, but I’ll make it up to you.”

I hang up, and am about to turn away, when a Ferrari drives up. A red Ferrari that screeches to a halt right behind the Maserati. Xander pushes open the door and steps out. He swaggers over to me and I burst out laughing. “Oh, my god, you sure do know how to make an entrance.”

“Nice wheels, eh?” He flicks a satisfied glance over his shoulder, “Not that yours isn’t almost as good…”

“Almost, eh?” I chortle as he runs his finger down the lines of the Maserati. “Nice one, what say we inaugurate this baby, eh?”

I laugh, “Well, why not?” The last thing I want to do is go back inside and hide myself away, moping. Not when I really, really do want to drive this car. And I do want to learn how to drive. That is one more step toward leading some kind of a normal life… Or as normal as it can be, being the wife of a Capo.

I step forward, grab hold of the ribbon that’s stretched across the car, and pull at it. It falls away and I walk around to the driver’s seat. I step in and Xander slides in from the other side.

“Ready?” He turns to me, “First, let’s adjust the seat so you are able to reach for the accelerator and the brake with ease.” He helps me do so, then sets about pointing out the pedals for the accelerator and the brake, as well as the various buttons on the dash all of which seems like an exact twin to the one I had seen in Mika’s car. But really, when you have to operate it, it becomes an entirely new ball game. “This is an automatic car, so it’s really very easy.”

He shows me how to adjust the mirrors, then points out the additional buttons on the console for the headlights, the wipers on the windshield, the taillights, the buttons to be used to signal that I am going to turn, etcetera.

He makes me run through the entire routine twice. Then, when he is satisfied that I know my way around the console, he leans back. “Well, that was the first lesson.”

“What?” I stare, “It’s over already?”

“Yep.”

“But I want to take the car out.”

“You never do that on the first lesson.”C0pyright © 2024 Nôv)(elDrama.Org.

“But I want to,” I scowl and he laughs.

“Just kidding, let’s do it.”

“Ass.” I swipe at his shoulder. Xander is every bit the brother I never had.

I reach for the ignition button when a movement catches my attention from the corner of my gaze. I look up to find my husband’s Maserati screeching to a halt in front of us. He shoves open the door and jumps out. Michael isn’t wearing his suit jacket and his tie is askew. He races toward us.

“What is he doing here?” Xander scowls.

Michael raises his arm. I see his mouth move. I am not sure what he’s trying to say, but I want to show him how much I love this car, and how I am already able to drive it.

Xander turns to me, his face pale. “Don’t do it,” he yells, but I’ve already touched the ignition button. For a second nothing happens, then the entire car seems to erupt.

I glance up, see Michael’s face, as if from a distance, then everything goes dark.

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