Married to the mafia boss Series

PROLOGUe

Angelo

I can’t fucking stand backstabbing traitors.

I can’t fucking stand the way people treat me.

I can’t fucking stand this disability.

And I certainly can’t fucking stand the incessant ringing.Property belongs to Nôvel(D)r/ama.Org.

Ever since I lost my hearing people have been treating me as a man of weakness. Even despite me taking over the business as Don and gaining most of my hearing back through a cochlear implant.

The tinnitus never went away. I was told it would never go away and it’s fucking annoying as all shit. The first few months were the worst. Nearly three years later I’m used to it, but dammit some days I want to stab myself directly in my ear.

It took longer than it should have to get the cochlear implant. I spent a year reading lips and having private lessons to learn sign language-thanks to my sister’s suggestion. I enjoyed learning sign language quite a bit. My teacher said I was a quick learner and it helped that I was eager to learn more phrases.

I was happy to have my hearing back. I know not everyone who is deaf is lucky enough to have cochlear implants work for them, but thank God I am one of them.

I can hear, but I’m not cured and some days, amid all the noise, I find myself reading lips instead of actually listening like I used to before my injury. I find my hands itching to sign to my soldiers and those who I converse with. I spent that dark year trying to find purpose through my deafness and it was found in the deaf community. I found online support groups and I scrolled through the forums religiously at night when I hit low points.

Nighttime is always the worst. It’s when everything is most quiet. It’s when the ringing is at its loudest and I find myself suffering with insomnia. I found comfort in the support groups, found inspiration through other people’s stories and how they overcame what I used to think was a major weakness.

Deafness is not a weakness. It can be used to one’s advantage. You never know what people will say when they think you’re not listening.

CHAPTER ONE

Angelo

I grew my hair long to try and cover the cochlear implant as much as possible.

The transmitter and microphone and speech processor are harder to hide than one would think. A hat would do the job but as Boston’s Don-Angelo Ricci doesn’t wear a hat. I’m a suit guy. Professional, expensive, and tailor made suits are my go-to. They scream seriousness and as a man of one of the biggest crime families and Don of the Mafia, I have to fit the part. The suit earns respect.

I take off the transmitter along with the microphone and speech processor piece off and go deaf for the mission. Everyone knows about my accident that took my hearing, but very, very few know about the implants. My close men who I do business with over the phone know I can hear. My men who are still on the fence with their loyalty, they have no idea.

My enemies especially don’t know. Instead of letting my enemies know I’ve found a way to fix my weakness, I let them believe I still have it.

Sitting at the restaurant enjoying a nice glass of red wine, I read the lips of Andrea Canalis-one of my father’s old followers-from across the room. Word is he’s been planning an uprise with a few other men. They say I have no right to be Don.

I read every word that comes out of the bastard’s mouth. Every word that confirms he is against me. The punishment for treason is death. I wait until I finish my glass of wine and for Andrea to leave. I catch him outside near the parking lot. He doesn’t even notice I followed him out. I whistle, causing him to turn around, and I pull the trigger. The bullet goes straight between his eyes.

I shoot the two men who shared dinner with him, next. The three bodies lay on the cold concrete and I call Francis to come clean up the mess.

Heading back to my penthouse on the South End, I dig in my pockets to pull out my implant and reconnect myself with the world. At least the sound of the car engine can drown out the ringing. I watch late-night pedestrians walk with their lovers or with drunk friends, and admire the old architect of some of the buildings built when this country was just starting out.

I’ve always loved Boston growing up. I’ve always loved big cities and enjoyed crowds. I attended my fair share of parties as a teenager and hit many clubs when I could pass for twenty-one. I’ve lived for this city, respected this city, but I never thought I’d one day rule it. Boston may be my home, but I can’t help that it reminds me of family who is no longer by my side.

Sure, my father was an abusive asshole and Luca, a misogynistic bastard, but it’s not them I miss. I miss my mother who was weak and wasn’t meant for this life. I miss my sister miles away in Chicago raising my niece. I miss not doing Don things.

I love the power, but I miss not worrying about whether my own men are going to turn on me. Miss not having men rely and trust in my decisions. There are very few men I trust, those few are the ones I trust with knowledge of my implant. They are trustworthy soldiers, but not friends. I have only one friend here-Nario. I’ve known him since we were children. Nario hasn’t been present in my life lately. Since last year he’s gone undercover to infiltrate the Bratva.

Other than Nario I have no one to burden with my stress and anxiety. No, that’s taken out on strippers from the club I run. Fucking sure does alleviate a lot of tension built throughout the day. Loneliness can’t be cured all that well from whores though.

Some days are tough. On those dark, unbearable days, I wish I could just disappear from this life. Wish I could appoint someone else as the boss and take a break. At night, I imagine what life could be like if things were normal, or if my father or Luca hadn’t died. I’d probably be back in Chicago. I’d see my sister and beautiful niece, Viola. I’d be there to watch her grow up and gladly babysit when Liliana and Antonio wanted to take a night for themselves.

Sometimes I crave normal.

Most times I crave vengeance. Crave the thrill of killing someone. Crave to prove myself as worthy and instill fear into my enemies.

Crave the power that comes with the title.

This life is all I know. It’s been imbedded in me since I was a young boy. I may not be as psychotic as Luca, but I’m not a good man. None of us are. Like all Men of Honor, we took an oath-a code of conduct. No matter what feelings I may have for this life, I will honor it until my last dying breath.

My penthouse is big for one person. The open space bothers me and while downgrading to something smaller would please me, the penthouse is for show. It’s to show success and power. I still have the mansion on the outskirts of town that my parents owned. I haven’t been back since they were alive. I don’t want to go back. I’d sell the thing if I could but I can’t, so I’ll leave it to collect dust in the meantime.

I haven’t had a girl in my bed since last night. I’m not in the mood. While normally fucking would make me feel better and release some pent up tension, I want something more for tonight. Something more than a whore could give me for a good couple of hours.

My sister texts me like she does every night. She sends photos of my beautiful niece and it puts a smile on my face. Boston has always been my home, but Boston is lonely. I miss my sister and wish I could be closer to my niece. To be there to protect her and be what a godfather should be. Present. Involved.

Liliana: How are you?

Angelo: Good.

Liliana: I’m worried about you.

She always is. I set my phone on the table next to the bed and head into the bathroom to take a shower. The water is warm and soothing on my skin. I stand under the spray for a while letting my skin turns red and waiting for my thoughts to clear. I know my phone must be ringing in the other room. Lily probably is calling to hear my voice, but I’ve already taken off my hearing aids and I don’t feel like putting them back in. I don’t feel like talking. All I want to do is sleep and forget.

Unfortunately my phone rings again, I look over half-expecting it to be Liliana, but it’s Nario. Nario gives me a weekly update on Viktor Vasiliev leader of the Bratva. Nario has infiltrated the ranks pretty quickly, much to my liking. Earning Viktor’s trust and becoming in charge of major assignments.

Putting in my hearing aid, “What do you got for me?”

“I think I found a way to get to Vasiliev,” Nario says with a cocky tone in his voice. “Anastasia Vasiliev.”

“He’s married?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Better. She is his beloved only daughter.”

“How did we not know about her?”

“She’s just returned from a ballet academy in Russia.”

“And you can get your hands on her?”

“Better. You can, I can give you the address of where she’ll be.”

“Text me it. Keep Vasiliev busy, the last thing we need is for the kidnapping to go wrong. Keep me updated and good work, Nario,” I hang up the burner phone.

The address comes through and immediately I makes some calls to put together a team to retrieve Viktor’s daughter. The things he’ll do when the bastard finds out we have his precious daughter.