BOOKSDRAMA Borrowed Bride: Chapter 13
The sensible choice would have been to stay at the mansion and soak up the wildly intense, growing feelings I have for Marco. They’ve swept up so quickly that he takes my breath away just by being near me, and the way he fucks me leaves me feeling owned and claimed.
Like I finally have a place to belong.
But after our shower together, I overheard his phone call. He has Leonardo cornered and he’s going to kill him.
If Marco succeeds, then I’ll have no idea what the connection between him and Cherry is.
Duping Anton and Ben with a fake illness was rather terrifying since they’ve been on me like bees on honey since the last time I snuck away to see Emilia, but I put on an incredible performance of stomach pains, sickness, and the threat that if they didn’t get me help, Marco would surely kill them.
In their absence, I used all my skills to sneak out of the manor, making it into the back of one of the last cars to leave the parking area.
Ideally, this would be the perfect way to escape if that was still my priority, but Cherry’s arrival has changed all of my plans. I need to know the truth because if she is here for me, and revenge, Marco may be the only thing standing between me and death.
I tuck myself down on the floor of the backseat, hidden by shadows. It’s cold and uncomfortable, but as two guards climb in, grumbling about the time of night, I know I’ve made the right choice. Thankfully, neither of them checks the back seat, and I remain undiscovered as the car roars to life.
“He’s not walking out of this alive,” the one driving says, sliding his leather-clad hands around the steering wheel.
My heart punches hard against my ribs as I’m uncertain who exactly they are talking about.
“About time,” says the second. “Leo’s too much of a playboy. He’s a gentle fucker trying to stand tall and fill the boots of his sadistic father.”
“You sound like you feel bad for the fucker,” replies the first.
“Nah he’s just playing the hand he’s dealt, y’know? He lacks his father’s cruel streak so when he barks, it sounds like yapping. No wonder he resorts to mind games. He just picked the wrong target.”
“You think there’s truth to it?”
“No chance,” scoffs the second man. “You think if Boss’s sister was out there, she’d be undiscovered for this long? Boss is a fucking bloodhound. No one gets away from him.”
Marco really has done everything in his power to keep Emilia safe, to the point that his own men don’t even know she’s been living under the same roof. That’s incredible—and rules these two out as the leak.
They settle into useless conversation about sport for the rest of the drive and I remain hidden, running through everything I know about Cherry. Never once in our past did she ever mention any of the well-known Mafia names. She was on drugs, but it’s the Barrones that control the drug trade around here. Even I know that.
So why is she with Leo?
Nothing makes sense. The deeper I fall into this world, the more confused I become. I almost miss the simplicity of the streets but after a month here, becoming entangled in all these secrets, I’m certain that life is over.
Marco will never let me go, even if we continue to be friendly.
I know about Emilia and that is indeed a death sentence if I try to leave.
By the time the car pulls to a stop, my hands and feet are numb, and a gentle tremor runs through my body from the cold and adrenaline. I remain hidden, listening to a dull hum of voices outside that eventually fades with time.
Then, there’s only silence.
I count to sixty and then slowly climb from the car. A bitterly cold wind hits me when I step outside, and the scent of salty sea air floods my lungs with each breath. We’re in a parking lot filled with badly parked cars and several flood lights struggling to hold on to full power. At the opposite end of me stands a gigantic warehouse that creaks and snaps every so often, complaining just like an elderly man complains about his old bones.
That must be where they are.
I take a step forward, then the night air is suddenly filled with an explosion of gunshots like the crack of a whip. Instinct forces me to duck down beside the car with a squeak and a storm of gunfire takes over. It’s like a fireworks show located entirely inside the warehouse, and my heart pounds so hard that the taste of iron flashes over my tongue.
I made a mistake.
What the hell was I thinking?
“Gianna?” says a voice. I glance up from where I’m cowering by the car to see one of the guards who drove here standing over me with an assault rifle in his hands. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
I have no answer for him, and I don’t resist when he grabs me by the upper arm and hauls me toward the raging inferno of shooting inside the warehouse.
By the time he scrapes the door open and shoves me inside, the fighting has stopped and a sickly yellow light spills across the empty warehouse floor.
People are dead. Countless men lie across the floor like discarded rags in all sorts of positions. They share one thing in common—their torsos are mottled with red holes and crimson puddles surround them.
Those that weren’t killed are at the mercy of Marco’s men, kneeling and facing the wall at the back of the room with weapons aiming at them, ready to fire at the slightest movement.
To my immense relief, Marco is mostly unharmed. Blood streaks his striped shirt and his left cheek looks injured, but he’s standing tall and proud with his handgun pointed at the man cowering under his boot.
It’s Leonardo, who has both his hands clutching at a spilling gunshot wound on his thigh.
None of them look up when we enter and the guard making me walk abruptly halts.
“The truth,” Marco states, oddly calm for someone who just tore through a warehouse. “My patience is wearing fucking thin with you.”
“You want her?” Leonardo asks, wheezing from the weight of Marco standing one foot on his chest. “I can—I can get her for you!”
“Stop lying!” Marco barks suddenly and he fires his gun twice, one on either side of Leo’s head.
I slap one hand over my mouth in fright, and my ears ring from the sound. This is … this is insane. This is too real.
Marco leans over his knee, placing more of his weight on Leo’s chest and he taps the barrel of his weapon against Leo’s cheek. “The truth, Leo. Or I will kill you right here and one of your useless goons over there will tell me what I want to know.”
“Alright!” Leonardo wheezes. “Alright, lemme up and I’ll—”
“No.” Marco’s voice is flat, almost bored now as he glances at his watch. “Time is ticking.”
“Fine! Fine, I … it was a hoax, alright? Just some stupid game to try and throw you off so you would make stupid mistakes, and we’d be able to take you out in a way that would look fair to all the other families.”
“Since when does a Simone care about fair?” Marco spits.
“I care!” Leo gasps. “Before—before my father passed, I heard him talking about you and your sister. The way he spoke, I don’t know. I put two and two together and figured it would be the best way to mess your head up. Everyone knows how awful that attack was and there’s always been rumors, y’know? Is she dead or missing? So I went with it. I thought that’s what my father had planned and so I took it, alright? I made it up. I just wanted to knock you down and sweep in.”
“And the woman?”
“No one.”
Sharp tingles, like the prick of a thousand needles, skitter down my spine and my stomach twists. She’s not no one. Not to me.
“Adios.” Marco takes aim with his gun, pressing the barrel right between Leo’s eyes.
“Wait!” The word is out of my mouth before I’ve even thought it through, and suddenly, all attention is on me. Marco’s face is open in alarm to see me, then it hardens like a rock and his anger becomes clear.
“The fuck are you doing here?” he barks. “Frederick, get her the hell out of here.”
“No, wait—” I jerk my arm free from the guard, and my thoughts scramble for an excuse. If Leo dies, I’ll lose the truth about Cherry, but I also have only a minimal understanding of how things work here.
Will this break some unspoken rule?
“Wait?” Marco growls and his hard gaze hits me like a blow to the chest. “You know what he did.”
“I do,” I gasp, stopping a few feet away. “But wouldn’t it be better to let him live? And then just take over his business and fuck up his life or something? Sure, he’s stupid and he’s done a bad thing but killing him … it will send the message that he got to you. That your head is easy to fuck with.”
I’m rambling, scraping together the tail end of unfinished thoughts in a desperate attempt to save this man’s life. It doesn’t even cross my mind to tell Marco the truth because I don’t want him to look at me differently, not until I have no other choice.
There’s a deadly silence, and from the uncomfortable look on the faces of some of his men, I get the impression that no one has ever stopped Marco from doing anything.
Marco taps his gun against Leo’s forehead, making him whimper in fear.
“Hm.” Marco suddenly straightens up, and his men shift their stance like trees reacting to the flow of the window. “You have a point. This snake has a pretty big family and I’m not sure I have the time to wipe them all out. But I hear you have a pretty good hook into the weapons circuit with the Russians.” Marco leans down very slowly and Leo audibly wheezes.
“That’s my hook now, do you understand?” Marco growls. “And now, every breath in those pathetic lungs of yours are a gift from my wife, so you better kiss the fucking ground she walks on.”
“I will,” Leo rasps.
“Do it,” Marco snaps, finally stepping off of Leo.
A hot, uncomfortable tightness sweeps through my chest and the back of my neck tingles while watching Leo roll over and crawl toward me. He makes it two feet before Marco’s boot lands on his back, forcing him back down to the ground.
Then, Leo begins kissing the blood-slicked, oil-stained floor. Over and over, he kisses the ground near me and keeps doing it even when Marco strides away from him.
I feel sick, and yet there’s another strange sensation that I can’t quite decipher. It’s pressure, but fluttering too like butterflies in my gut.
Is it from Marco’s show of power, or Leo’s obedience?
I have no idea.
“Kill the rest,” Marco says to Frederick, then grabs me by the arm. His contact is molten, but it brings me a flood of relief that he is okay.
“Marco,” I say, my voice trembling from how frantic my heart dances around my chest.
“Not here,” Marco grinds out between clenched teeth as he hauls me with him back out of the warehouse. “You have some fucking explaining to do.”