The Mafia King’s Doll

Angelo

One of the guards found the sedan, and after searching the vehicle, Vittoria’s luggage was retrieved from the backseat.

The tracker’s signal disappeared ten minutes ago, meaning she’s probably on a fucking plane. It’s either that or the ring was destroyed, which I seriously doubt.

“Find out what flight Vittoria is on!” I bark the order as I walk back to the SUV.

“Where are we going?” Big Ricky asks while he grabs hold of the luggage to bring it along.

“To the private jet. We need to be up in the air STAT.”

“Call me as soon as you know which flight Mrs. Rizzo took,” Big Ricky shouts at Bruno, who’s already jogging toward the airport’s entrance.

He waves a hand in the air to show he heard the order.

Jesus, baby, stop running so I can get to you.

We climb back into the SUV, and while Big Ricky drives to where the private jet is, I make a quick call to the pilot so they can refuel and get ready for take-off.

Christ. The only thing I have counting in my favor is that she’ll have to catch a connecting flight, whereas the private jet will fly directly to JFK.

I double-check to make sure I’m not wrong, and when I see that there are no direct commercial flights between Sicily and the USA, I let out a sigh of relief.

I’ll get there before her.

That’s if she’s even going to New York.

I let out an angry sigh.

I need to notify the other heads of the Cosa Nostra of what happened.

Dialing a number, I listen as the call connects. “Hey, what’s up?” Damiano mutters.

“I have bad news,” I say, my voice hoarse from all the stress. “My uncle and aunt are dead. They fucking betrayed me.”

“Jesus Christ, Angelo!” Damiano sucks in a shocked breath. “I’m so fucking sorry, brother. What can I do to help?”

“Just be on standby. I might need your help finding Vittoria.” “Why isn’t she with you?”

“I don’t know all the details, but Vittoria ran when my uncle died. She must be traumatized and not thinking clearly.”

“Fuck,” he breathes. “Want me to try and track her down?”

I shake my head even though he can’t see me. “No. I’ve got it covered.” “Are you on your way home?”© 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.

“Yeah,” I sigh. “As soon as I have Vittoria, I’ll call a meeting.” “Okay. Do you want me to tell the others?”

“Please. I’d appreciate that.”

“Consider it done.” He pauses for a moment. “I’m here for you.” “Thanks.”

As we end the call, Big Ricky stops the SUV near the private jet. I climb out of the vehicle and roll my shoulders to ease some of the tension.

My eyes land on the pilot as he rushes down the steps.

“Mr. Rizzo. We’ll be ready for take-off in thirty minutes.”

I nod before heading up the stairs, and taking a seat, I brush my hand over my face.

Jesus Christ.

My mind goes over everything I know, and leaning my head back against the headrest, I close my eyes.

Vittoria must be beside herself with fear.

Fuck, and I just got her to feel safe with me. I fucking hope to all that’s holy this incident doesn’t make her terrified of me again.

Big Ricky sits down across from me and says, “I just spoke to Bruno.

Vittoria is heading to Minnesota.”

A frown forms on my forehead. “Why there, of all places?” “It was the first available flight.”

“Tell the pilot,” I mutter.

I glance out the window, my need to hold Vittoria in my arms overwhelmingly strong.

Tori

It feels like I’m caught in a daze of terror and paranoia as I get off the plane in Minnesota.

The flight was torturously long. Twenty-six hours of reliving the nightmare over and over.

I can’t remember when last I ate, not that I’m hungry. With the pit of fear in my stomach, I feel too sick to think of food.

God, it feels like I haven’t slept for weeks. The last time I got some rest was on the flight to Sicily. My dress is all wrinkled, and my skin feels sticky.

I look as bad as I feel.

I walk with all the other passengers, and realizing I have to go through passport control, a wave of exhaustion rolls over me.

The wariness in my bones makes my legs feel heavy.

I fall into the back of the line and nibble on my bottom lip as I cautiously glance at all the people.

I’m already tired from all the running, and I know Angelo will catch up to me at some point.

Unless I never use my name again. How do I even do that? I’ll need a new name, ID, and social security number.

I lower my head and let out a heavy sigh.

There’s a good chance Angelo’s already waiting for me by the exit.

Where I had to take a commercial flight, he had the convenience of using his private jet. He’s powerful and could easily have found out which flight I was on.

Dear God.

The line creeps forward, and when it’s my turn, I hand my passport to the officer. The man glances at me before checking my passport. “Why the short trip to Sicily?”

My frail nerves tighten my stomach.

“Something came up, and I had to come home.” His eyes narrow on me. “What?”

“A death in the family.”

My heart thunders in my chest, but then he just stamps the passport and hands it back to me before calling out, “Next.”

I’m going to die from a nervous breakdown long before Angelo gets to

me.

I follow the other passengers, and as they head to the carousels to

collect their luggage, I move to the side to wait a moment.

If Angelo is here, I’ll need to get past him without him seeing me, and I can only do that if I hide in a crowd.

That’s if he’s even here. He could still be in Sicily. He could’ve sent one of his men to kill me. He might not even know where I am.

There are so many possibilities, but I’m preparing for the worst.

My eyes lock on a family of seven, and I quickly move in their direction. The parents struggle with their two younger boys while the three teenagers walk slightly ahead of them.

When the mother stops to pick up one of the boys, I catch up to them. Using the mother and child as cover, I quickly pull the strap of my handbag across my chest.

Once you’re through the doors, just run.

I stick next to the woman, and as the exit comes closer, my heart pounds out of my chest. The urge to look for Angelo as we walk through the open doors is intense, but I don’t want to give away my position.

Suddenly, the boy starts to cry, and the mother stops to put him down.

My eyes dart to all the people waiting for the passengers, and the moment my eyes lock on Angelo, the blood freezes in my veins.

Nooooooo!

My body instantly goes into flight mode, and I dart in the opposite direction from him.

Oh God. He’s going to kill me.

I’ve felt fear before, but it’s nothing compared to the terror coating my skin right now.

My breaths burst over my lips, and I keep glancing over my shoulder. Big Ricky is closer to me than Angelo. I didn’t even see him when I started running.

Both men are catching up to me, and I let out a shriek, running as fast as I can.

Barreling through the exit, I turn right and sprint up the sidewalk. My eyes lock on a cab, and rushing toward the vehicle, I yank the back door open and climb inside.

“Where to?” The driver asks.

“Go! GoGoGo!” I shriek as I glance out the back window. “Just go!” When the cab pulls away from the curb, Big Ricky aims his gun at us. “No!” I breathe.

Before he can take the shot, Angelo stops him. A second later, they jog toward a black SUV.

“Please go faster,” I beg as I turn my attention to the driver.

“What’s the rush?” he asks, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror. “Someone is following me.”

The man shakes his head. “I don’t want no trouble, lady.”

“Please. I’ll give you a thousand dollars. Just get out of here.”

The mention of money seems to do the trick because as soon as we leave the airport, he drives much faster. When we get onto the interstate, he goes over the speed limit, and I feel a flicker of relief.

“Thank you,” I say, and as I glance out the back window again, my heart sinks as I watch the SUV weave through traffic.

I frantically look around the area, wondering if I should ask the driver to stop so I can get off the highway.

Before I can decide what to do next, the SUV speeds past us and turns sharply in front of the cab.

“Jesus!” The driver shouts as he slams on the brakes.

“God!” I shriek, and the second we come to a stop, I shove the door open and dart out of the cab.

“Hey,” the cab driver shouts. “Come back here.”

Not caring, I run into oncoming traffic. Cars swerve to avoid me, and tires screech.

“Vittoria!” I hear Angelo shout really close behind me.

No.

It feels as if everything slows down, and a memory of Angelo looking at me with love flashes through my mind’s eye.

I feel his lips on mine. I hear him chuckle.

I let out a blood-curdling cry as absolute devastation rips through my soul.

A car honks, and as my eyes snap in the direction of the alarming sound, it’s to see the vehicle speeding toward me.

Suddenly, I’m grabbed from behind. My feet leave the ground, and I’m swung out of the way of the speeding car.

“Noooooooooo! No-no-no-no!” I scream, the terror I’ve experienced since Maurizio’s death becoming too much to handle. It feels like I’m losing my mind.

Angelo’s voice rumbles like thunder, “I’ve got you.”

My vision blurs as I’m tossed over his shoulder, and the last thing I see are tire marks on the road before I pass out.