Married to the Mafia Boss

Chapter 2

Benjamin's POV

Three weeks before the meeting with Giovanni Bianchi.

"GOD DAMN IT!" I hear my dad scream through the house.

Shit. I think to myself. This isn't going to go well.

"BENJAMIN! GET IN HERE RIGHT NOW!" He shouts.

I sigh quietly to myself. The more noise I make when he's like this, the worse it is for me.

"Why the fuck is my dinner not made?!" He shouts in my face.

I turn and look at the clock. "I'm so sorry, Dad. I didn't realize what time it was."

He punches me in the face. Hard. "What have I told you about calling me that?!" He slams me into the floor. "Make my food, NOW." He growls as he grabs a beer from the fridge and leaves to watch tv in the living room.

I try to make dinner as quickly and quietly as I can. As soon as I finish the pasta, he comes into the kitchen.

"Is my food done yet?" He growls.

"Yes, sir." I whisper.

"Good. Get lost." He huffs as he sits at the table and starts digging in.

I make my way back to my bedroom. I slink down to the floor silently as I can. I can't make noise. I can't let him know that I'm still here. I've made that mistake before.

Three days before the meeting with Giovanni Bianchi.

"FUCK!" Dad screams through the house again.

In a panic, I check the clock. It's not dinner time. It's not lunch... What could he possibly be mad about right now? As I sit and think about it, I recall that he was going to a poker game today. Shit. He must have lost. A lot.

"BENJAMIN!" He screams.

I sigh silently and make my way out of my room. I find him in the entryway of the house.

He doesn't waste a single moment before slamming his fist into my side. I gasp silently as I fall to the floor. His foot flies into my side, hitting the ribs he had bruised three days ago.

"Fucking cunts!" He screams. "Rigged assholes!" He yells between strikes.

"Please." I gasp.

"Shut the fuck up!" He shouts. His foot hits my side over and over. Eventually he finishes venting his anger, and leaves the house again.

I know when he leaves at this time in the evening, he'll find dinner elsewhere, so I do my best to crawl back to my room and get some rest before the next day.

The day of the meeting with Giovanni Bianchi.

I grip my hands together tightly in the car.

"Don't embarrass me in there, boy." Dad growls. "This is a huge deal if he takes it."

"Yes, sir." I whisper.

We pull up to an office building, and dad hands the keys to the valet. He grabs his briefcase and we start toward the building. When we get to the reception desk, he informs the lady there that we have a meeting with Mr. Bianchi.

She has us take the elevator up to the top floor and we check in with another lady, his personal secretary.

"Hi, sweetheart." Dad says nauseatingly sweetly. "Nolan Sierra for the one o'clock with Mr. Bianchi."

"Of course sir. Have a seat." She motions toward the couch behind us.

"You." He says as we sit. "Sign this, now." He thrust the paperwork at me.