Page 47 of The Mafia’s Fiancee

I tuned out all the shouts, running with Jimmy in the direction of the rundown building where Leo claimed the Giordinos had taken Nina.

Going on foot wasn’t ideal. If they’d hurt her at all, we’d need to ensure her safe exit. She was already so weak, so feeble and frail, that it wouldn’t take much to drain her energy. The slightest rough handling would bruise her delicate skin, and the risk of infections would be a worry as well.

I gritted my teeth, pissed and irked that they’d dared to capture her, but with that anger burning at a low, manageable simmer, I resolved not to let it consume me. I couldn’t let them win. They wanted me distracted and out from hiding. I’d risk my safety for her, but I had to keep a level head about it.

Jimmy sprinted ahead, proving that he wasn’t as old as he looked. He wasn’t as sore and exhausted from the beating the Marchese men had given him.

He ran steadily, impressing me not only with his fitness but also his determination to save Nina.

I caught up with him, straining to keep an eye out for trouble.

It wasn’t great luck to be held back with a fucking accident near the construction site. We were already losing precious minutes of her being captive by men who would treat her poorly.

And then we ran into more holdups.

A group of men blocked us at the next intersection. They formed a line, giving us no opening to run around them and pass them on our way.

That was there intention. Jimmy skidded to a stop, barricading me with his arm flung out. “Get out of the way,” he growled.

The leader laughed, shaking his head. “No. We got orders from the boss.”

“You can shove Damon Giordino’s orders up his ass. Get out of the way.”

Giordino? He recognized them, and I couldn’t help the stupid but legitimate envy that I could have that skill of identifying all these mafia men so easily on sight. They all looked the same. Suited and sporting cocky smiles, walking with the same swagger.

“Ain’t happening, old man.” Another one approached, looking me up and down. “He knew you’d coming running to help that old-ass lady.” He scoffed, pissing me off more.

“Damon ordered her to be captured?” Jimmy asked.

I wanted to smirk at him for asking such a dumb question. Obviously, Emma’s father had targeted my mother and captured her. He knew I was Marlo’s son, and somehow, he’d found the identity of my mother.

He already identified these men as Giordino soldiers. So why ask if Damon ordered the capture? It was implied, wasn’t it?

As we stared each other down, though, I had my first lesson in reshaping my thought process. Maybe it wasn’t implied that Damon ordered my mother to be taken. Maybe it was a ploy, a collaborative effort between the Giordino and Marchese bosses to lure me out.

Jimmy didn’t seem ready to believe that Damon instructed his men to kidnap my mother. I took this as a lesson, an exercise in building up my doubt and skepticism.

I hadn’t been introduced to this mafia world for long, but it seemed I had much to learn in navigating the deception and lies.

Not everything was as it seemed with these people.

“It don’t matter who wanted the bitch kidnapped,” another guard said. He didn’t answer with an affirmative, hedging an actual reply.

Aha. It seemed Jimmy was right to second-guess who was at fault here. It didn’t matter to me who gave the orders. According to the little I knew, the Marcheses and Giordinos were one and the same—my enemies. They would all be dead for laying a hand on my mother.

But knowing who ordered her to be taken might make a difference in where she’s being held. The other guard who was supposed to be watching my mother, Leo, reported that Giordinos had taken her and brought her this way. If they were working under someone else’s orders, though, it stood to reason that we might not find her here.

I missed the simplicity of fighting one-on-one. In the ring it was simple. I faced a single opponent and strategized how to take them down. I felt out of control, too slow and lagging to view all this danger among the mafia families. They worked with hidden agendas and trickery.

“Now that we got your little prize fighter to stop being a coward and hiding...” Another Giordino guard stalked up close. He seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place how.

“I can’t wait for a chance to see if he’s all that they’re saying. That no one can beat him.”

Shit. I remembered him now. I’d seen him at the fights before.

“Come on, punk. Show me that you’re the fearsome asshole everyone’s making you out to be.”

I breathed in steadily through my nose. Hearing taunts like this never pushed me to violence. Usually, I heard this shit in the ring or near it, and then, I’d have the chance to prove idiots wrong in doubting me. I could enter the ring and fight. Letting my triumphs and victories be proof was far easier than the energy required to care about taunts and teases.