Page 22 of Mafia Princess


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I raised a brow.

“I need to speak with your new husband about some business,” my father said. His face hardened as he looked at Dominic, and I saw very clearly the Pakhan that lived just behind the facade of a caring father.

I opened my mouth to say something, but Dominic gave me a hard look. He had been quiet while my father and I had greeted one another, but I could feel his intense energy radiating next to me. It made me feel incredibly nervous.

“Go,” my father ordered. His voice was kind, but I knew an order when I heard one. “We’ll be there soon.”

I nodded, and just like always, I did what I was told and walked towards the salon where my mother was waiting.

“Sasha,” my mother greeted as I walked into the salon. She had tea waiting for us, and I immediately felt my hackles rising. My mother never made tea. She was the type of woman who drank a glass of vodka with her lunch. The tea was for me, which made me nervous.

“Mama,” I said in way of greeting. She handed me a hot cup, and I took it without question sitting primly next to her.

“How have you been?”

I raised a brow. I couldn’t remember the last time that my mother had asked about me.

“Well,” I said.

“How do you find married life?”

I took a sip of the hot tea to avoid answering. I was sure that there was more to this discussion than my mother was letting on, and I didn’t want to be the first one to show my hand. I might have spent my life sheltered, but I knew both of my parents incredibly well.

My father might be Pakhan, but my mother was a formidable force all on her own.

“I hope that you are making an effort to get to know your new husband,” she told me.

“Well enough.” I wasn’t going to tell my mother that Dominic and I had barely spent a single moment together, or how he had left me desperate for belief the one time we had been together.

My mother raised a brow, and I watched as her lips thinned. “He hasn’t touched you since that first night, has he?”

My mouth immediately went dry. Not only was my mother just as formidable as any man in the Bratva, she was also very skilled at ferreting out a lie. I closed my eyes as I considered what to say next. I didn’t understand why my mother’s words cut through me so much. After all, I didn’t want Dominic to touch me. We weren’t a true husband and wife, and every time I felt myself longing for the feel of his rough hands on me, I couldn’t forget how my parents had sold me off.

“I don’t really want to discuss my marriage with you,” I said, squirming slightly in my seat. “Some things are private.”

My mother shook her head and sat her teacup on the table before relieving me of my own. “Nothing about your marriage is private,” she told me.

I opened my mouth to argue. I wasn’t about to discuss my sex life or lack of with my mother. Even if we did have the traditional mother daughter relationship, talking to her about sex was odd.

“Look here Sasha,” my mother said. Her eyes were blazing fiercely, and I felt my back immediately go ramrod straight. “You were married to the Italians for a purpose.”

“I know. To stop all the fighting.” It had been the only reason I hadn’t done everything I could to run away. I wasn’t selfish enough to believe that my life was more than those my marriage would save.

My mother shook her head. “No,” she said. She reached out and brushed a piece of hair away from my face. The gesture was almost tender, or rather, it was the most tender I could remember her being. “You are a naive girl if you think your marriage would stop the killing. Men can’t help themselves.”

There was a note of disapproval in her voice, almost as if the thought of killing was beneath her. I knew it wasn’t. I might be naive, but I suspected my mother was highly complicit in my father’s business.

“Then, what was the point in marrying me to the Blanchi family?” I asked. I was trying to keep my voice even, but inside I felt as though I were sweating bullets.

“The purpose was for you to make the killing easier,” she said.

I felt my mouth drop open at her words. “What?”

“We need information on the new don. He’s not like his father, or yours for that matter. Dominic Blanchi is well guarded. He’s vicious, and it seems as though he doesn’t have a single weakness.”

My mother’s words were rushed, and I didn’t know if it was because she was worried about Dominic walking in and overhearing us, or if the thought of all of this excited her.

It sickened me. I had agreed to sacrifice myself, my future, and my happiness, for people's lives. Not to help kill someone more efficiently.

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