I MARRIED A GANGSTER: [2018 EDITION]

Three

"Eleanor, wake up." Giuseppe whispered to me with his hand on my shoulder. My heart jumped in my chest from being startled awake.

I was having some terrible dream consisting of my current real-life situation. Only I could wake up from the dream, I couldn't wake up from this nightmare.

"We are home," Giuseppe whispered.

"If by home you mean my new prison. Then yes, we are certainly home." I quip.

When we had landed in New York, Jemma and Angelo stayed there while Giuseppe and I took a connecting flight to Italy. The drive to the house was two hours long and I had slept the entire ride there.

Maybe I should have stayed awake and observed the surrounding in case I needed to flee because it seemed as if the house was reserved in the middle of nowhere.

It wassurrounded by gorgeous hills with trees and a large lake. The lake was in the back of the house and it had a boating dock that I could see from the front.

The house was white with dark brown shutters on the many windows. Though it was night, I could hear the water ripple gently in the warm breeze.

Okay, so my prison looked like a palace.

A prisonnonetheless.

Giuseppe, holding our bags, led me up the cobblestone driveway. I couldn't help but admire the house. It was beautiful.

Once we entered, I really got a feel for my surroundings. The house had to be built in the 1800s due to the undeniable 1800s fixtures. Though, everything seemed a tad bit moreupdated. The wood finishes were exquisite. The hardwood floors were in a herringbone pattern and the walls were decorated in tapestries.

My gaze turned upwards to the ceiling and I saw how high they were. The ceilings had frescoes and plaster molding details. If I wasn't mistaken there was a mural painted on the ceiling also.

After staring in awe for a few moments, I looked at Giuseppe and smiled, "It's beautiful."

Giuseppe seemed to be distracted as he nodded politely in my direction, "Stay here."

I went to disagree but the look on Giuseppe's face told me that disagreeing wasn't the wisest choice for me. The look wasn't one of danger but of worry.

Worrying about what?

Everything was silent in the house for a few moments, but the sounds of a gunshot and a strangled cry startled me. Why was someone shooting in a house?

A few moments of silence and then footsteps.

There was an extremely attractive man standing next to Giuseppe and there was an instant connection that they were brothers. The man was tall and had a clean-shaven face with nice thick curly hair that was cut short

He was wearing a shirt with red speckles covered all over it.

"Eleanor this is my brother Francesco; Francesco this is Eleanor." Giuseppeintroduced.

I completely ignored the question, "Why was there a man crying and screaming just carried out of here, what type of place is this?" I nearly cried out.

"I can explain that." Giuseppe said, stepping towards me.

"I shot aman." Francesco spat out.

Giuseppe glared at his brother's childish behavior, "Eleanor, should I show you to a room?"

I didn't speak, I just stared at Francesco. He had blood on his face and shirt, he held a gun in his hand and he was glaring a hole into Giuseppe.

Giuseppe lifted his hands and pulled me towards a room.

"Why don't you go find yourself a room, I need a moment here with my brother,"Giuseppe whispered to me while he handed me my bag.

I didn't listen though, I took my only opportunity to get information and I eavesdropped.

"Don't harm her in anyway, she doesn't deserve it." Giuseppe's voice rang out.

"You've slept with her, no?" Francesco asked, a smile on her voice.

"No."

"Am I to believe that? You've slept with my wife before." Francesco said.

"Jemma was not your wife, she was never faithful to you in the first place." Giuseppesaid, "You never gave me a chance to explain."

"What is there to explain? You saw me happy for the only time in my life and you took the chance to sleep with my only source of sanity. I think I have it correct.No matter how many ways you paint the picture it will still be the same damn-visual, you are fucking my wife in my home. Family means nothing to you."Francesco snarled.

"Family is everything to me, I apologize that I screwed up, but I can't change it. I am trying." Giuseppe said.

"New wife? That is certainly not the way to go about it. How old is she?" Francesco asked.

"Nineteen, her birthday is in two months," Giuseppe said.

"Your plan is so flawed it makes me question why I looked up to you for thirtyyears," Francesco muttered.

"You must admit, it is a good idea, especially with Bates on your ass." Giuseppe said.

"It is, I'll play along. Is the girl okay?" Francesco asked.

"She doesn'tyet understands how I saved her from a terrible lifestyle. She adjusts well; she hasn't fought this at all. I believe she will do you well."

A pause.

"Does she know about me?"

"Not yet,you can tell her that," Giuseppe said.

"You're not staying?" Francesco asked.

"No, I have business to attend to in Tuscany, you have two weeks until I announce the engagement, two days after we can host a party and a month after you can marry. We can make it very public." Giuseppe said.

Francesco sighed.

"Get out of my house." Francesco growled and walked away.

Deciding that they observed every inch of the upstairs; each room had a whole new theme to them. It was stunning. I settled into the room that had multiple windows and a door that led out to a panoramic view of the lake.

The room was pale beige and it had a mural painted on the high ceiling. The bed was large and hadlarge antique-looking furniture. I threw her bag on the bed and looked around.

I briefly wondered why every light in the house was on at the same time when there weren't nearly enough people to be in every room.

Opening my bag, I was only met with her clothes I had no desire to keep. My mom must've packed this up for me. I opened my bag and pulled out my shorts and T-shirt that Iwore nearly every night to bed.

I slipped them on and pulled my hair up into a ponytail. I expertly slipped my bra off from under my shirt and threw it on the bed.

I tried my hardest to convince myself that I was comfortable, but unfortunately it failed me. The home was too luxurious, an enormous step up from my twin-sized bed at UCLA.

I walked over the windows and closed the large curtains and locked the door. I walked over to the bed and climbed into the center.

Even though I spent the day sleeping, jetlag still had a hold on me, and within moments I was sleeping.