Mafia Darling

9 | Date (Ella)

I'm once again cleaning vases when a voice behind me catches me off guard. I whirl around, but this time, I keep the duster down. It pays off, and Marco Corleone smiles because he hasn't been smacked in the face again.

I smile back, but suddenly, I'm picturing him with Bella. I meant it when I said I didn't mind; it wasn't like I called dibs and it wasn't like either of them owed it to me to not sleep with each other, but I still can't get the image of them out of my mind. Nerves and politeness stopped me from asking her if he was any good.

"Clear your schedule," he says, as if his family doesn't make my schedule. "I have some errands to run and want you to accompany me."

I glance down at myself. "Sure, let me go change--"

"I left some clothes in your quarters. Be back in fifteen please."

He leaves me slack-jawed. I practically run downstairs, and nicely folded clothes are on the corner of my bed. They're casual, nothing too snazzy or showy, but I can tell from the feel of them that they're made of the finest materials and must cost a fortune. I don't think Mother and Auntie spent this much money for the twenty-one years they had me, and Marco has spent all that in a day.

I change quickly and hurry outside to where Marco waits in an Aston Martin. Call me stereotypical, but I would've expected something Italian like a Ferrari.

"What do you need me to do?" I ask when I get into the passenger side. The seats are firm and cool, the windows tinted for privacy.

"Huh?" he asks, distracted when he pulls out of the mansion's gate.

"I'm...the help? You're bringing me along as help, aren't you?"

"Oh. Uh." A quick smile flashes across his face. "Sure. You're here to help."

"What do you need? Directions? I have my phone with me."

He shakes his head. "Don't worry. I'll say if I need anything."

We stop at a pottery store. To my surprise, he insists I go with him inside. I shuffle around carefully, not wanting to disturb the delicate displays.

"I'm looking for a gift for my mother," he says. "Anything catch your eye?"

"For Marcine?" I mentally slap myself. "I'm sorry, I meant Lady Corleone."

He laughs. "It's okay. She prefers Marcine. Well?"

I look around nervously. Why is he asking me to help him find a gift for his mother? Wouldn't one of his cousins or literally anyone else be more qualified?

Was Bella right? Does he actually like me?

"How about this?" I say, pointing to a small ceramic sculpture of Mary Magdalene. "She's the patron saint of Atrani, and that's where Lady -- I mean, Marcine, is from."

He stares at me. "Yeah...how did you know that?"

"I've been here long enough to know about your family."

Marco regards me with a genuinely pleased look, and I blush. He picks up the sculpture and takes it to the front register, and I trail behind him.

"Is it too small?" I whisper.

He shakes his head. "Mother's not really into gaudy, expensive things. It's the little things that please her."

It makes me smile. I haven't interacted with Marcine at all, but the snippets I hear about her from others is enough to verify that she's a sweet woman. I know it was the late Mr. Corleone who spearheaded the whole mafia thing, and she was just swept along for the ride, and I wonder if she ever wishes to be far away from it.

I look down at my hands and suddenly flash back to all the blood Marco made me clean up. I feel a powerful rush of resentment for his initiation, and more resentment for the fact that he runs the freaking mafia, and as quickly as those feelings appear, they disappear when he beams at me for picking out the present.

I smile back, melted by his charms.