“Traded for love” [Book 1 - Mafia in love]

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Chapter 6 - His fight [Republished]


(*Becca)

There was no rattling or breaking doors this night and no fights against me having locked the door and hid myself away.

I could swear I heard him whispering on the other side of the door before he left. He gave in, like he almost never did.

While curling up in bed, I am wondering what Lucas wants from me. What are the things I don’t know about and he needs to tell me?

Never my father and my brother have been very fond of me. They would just use me for whatever shit they needed to safe, like every time. I could only suspect that they might have got deep into some shitty stuff but now I was Lucas’ wife so I couldn’t understand what he was protecting me.

Lifting my head and stifling my breath, I try to hear something from the other side of the door. There is nothing to hear except for my own sobs in the silence around.

I leave the bed and walk to the door, gluing my ear to it and listening to the complete silence. I can’t hear anything. I can’t feel his presence.

I wished he was still standing there, in front of my door, banging it, breaking it, coming after me like he always did.

I fought with all my being the urge of going back to his room, threw myself in his arms, telling him I still loved him.

It was such a long time since I last woke up clad in his warm arms, breathing his scent, gluing my head on his hard chest and hearing his soft, regular breath while sleeping.

It was such a long time since I felt my Lucas.

I laid back in bed, feeling thwarted and deserted, and slept a faint throughout the night, tears sprawling from my eyes till they all became dry.

The morning came faster than I wished but I had to wake up. It was wake up and put some food into my system or end up in the emergency room. Again.

Once I was done showering, I dried up and put on a pair of tight jeans with a loose top.

I have to eat something. I feel weak and on the verge of blacking out, like most of the times but this time it’s almost scary. Not that I feel hungry, but I can barely stand on my feet.

The house was quiet except for some sounds coming from the kitchen. I walked in thinking it is Lucas, but instead I find Lore preparing breakfast.

“Good morning, Ms. Tate. Nice to see you again. It’s been a long time,” she said with a beaming smile.

Lore is working for Lucas for years, and before that she has worked for his father.

I always felt comfortable around her. She always knew how to make me feel better with that motherly care she had, almost replacing the love that my own mother failed to give.

This must be another of Lucas’ tricks to make me stay.

“Bastard!” I say in my mind, smirking and liking his way.

“Lore, good morning. What are you doing here?”

“Mr. Tate sent for me. He said I would be here for two weeks,” she responded with a beaming smile.

“Right.” I said, trying to look caring. Don’t know how much I managed. “So, where is Mr. Tate?” I ask, not truly waiting for an answer, just for the sake of conversation.

“He is not here. He said he would be back in two days. Until then, I will make your staying a heaven, I promise,” she gave me one more smile and I believed her.

She always knew how to sound genuine.

I took a sit at the dining table, already a fresh coffee laying in front of me.

Breakfast smelled appealing but my stomach couldn’t take anything.

“Did he say where he was going?” I try to find more details, sipping my coffee, looking careless.

“Back to New York, Ms. Tate.” Lore replies, shifting towards me and placing a plate with fresh eggs, butter and ham on the side together with a glass of fresh orange juice, my favorite drink in the morning.

She covers my hand with hers and I raise my eyes to meet her, staring at me with compassion and kindness at the same time.

“I am so sorry, Ms. Tate,” she states, and I frown.

Did Lucas need to tell her? Really?

It was a pregnancy until it wasn’t and that was it, locked somewhere in the back of my head and I didn’t actually want to talk about it or others to know about it.

I don’t want any pity. I hate pity.

Before I have the chance to open my mouth and add something, most probably a stupid ‘thank you’ which you are supposed to say in moments like this, we hear the landline ringing and Lore walks in the living room to pick it up.

I hear her answering and walking back in the kitchen bringing me the phone.

“Mr. Tate for you,” she announces.

I grab the phone as I am sure it is Lucas and I really want to know where the hell he is, but instead I hear another voice at the other end. Lucas’ father.

“Hi Rebecca, I hope you feel much better.”

Fuck, not him as well. Jesus, Lucas just couldn’t keep it for himself.

“You could say that. What do I have the pleasure of this call for?” I ask Lucas’ father trying to make the call short, so I won’t have to discuss the subject of my ‘not feeling well’ any further.

“Right. Listen, Lucas will be in New York for a couple of days and he cannot be reached but he’s instructed me to tell you to always keep your phone close. Just in case.”

“Alright Bradford. Anything else?” I want to get rid of him, although I have always enjoyed talking to him. He was more of a father to me than my own but right now I was in the mood for nothing.

“Yeah... Rebecca... the only calls you should answer to are mine, Lucas’ or Gio’s. It is important that you stay inside. The house is secured, and Lucas should be back in two days.”

“What do you mean should be back?”

That should didn’t sound right to me at all.

“What the fuck is going on, Brad?”

“I can’t tell you more, Becca. Lucas will explain it to you when he is back.”

And with that, the call ends.

I stare at my phone, placed on the table in front of me, next to the coffee mug.

A burning need to hear Lucas’ voice overwhelms me, and that need makes my breath race. Brad said nothing about not calling Lucas, so I scroll for his number into my phone’s calls log, hands shaking beyond my control.

Once found, I press the green button, but the call takes me to the voicemail. It doesn’t surprise me, but it tells me something is going on. Lucas never leaves his phone on when he is running a hit.

I scroll for Gio’s number and press the green button, being positive that he is with Lucas. To my delight, he answers after the first ring.

“Ms. Tate.”

“Gio, give me Lucas,” I asked and the fear of something wrong going on forms in my throat in a knot that I can’t swallow.

“Sorry, Ms. Tate. He is not with me. I am outside your island home,” he replies in a deep voice and even pace, just like a soldier.

“Where is he?”

“Ms. Tate...”

“Why the fuck he left without you?!”

“My orders are to stay here, with you, Ms. Tate.”

“Who’s fucking orders, Gio?”

“Mr. Tate’s orders.”

“Fuck!” I curse while ending the call.

I know Lucas.

Whenever something goes wrong, wherever something is wrong, he keeps Gio close, being the head of the security and the one he trusts most.

If Gio was here, Lucas was on something dangerous and that sent cold shivers down my spine but not for me, I was shaking with fear for Lucas, because I know that if I need guards, he definitely was on something mustering with danger.

Why doesn’t he understand I don’t care what happens to me? That I have no expectations?

I call Gio again, trying my luck one more time.

“Listen Gio, you leave Ken here with me and you go for Lucas, did you get me?”

He doesn’t answer, I only hear him breathing.

“Giovani, did you hear what I said? You go for Lucas, now!”

“I am sorry, Ms. Tate. My orders are to stay with you,” he responds at a steady pace, just enough to piss me off.

Boiling blood raises to my head in rage and I run outside the house where I know I will find Gio in the car, doing what he does best, watching.

With the phone still glued to my ear, I knock furiously on his window and he gets down quickly from the car.

He is double height than I am, making me tilt my head on the back to stare at him with anger.

“Why did you let him go alone?” I shout, crying, tears rushing from my eyes, being unable to hold them. “Why?” but I don’t wait an answer. I know why.

Especially if that anybody is her fucking father or brother’ Lucas’ words echoed in my head.

I scroll the call log and call Lucas’ number and again I am taken to the voicemail, making me clasp my fingers around the phone in anger and anguish.

I almost collapse on the alley tiles when Gio grabs me and lifts me up, taking me inside. He sits me on a chair in the kitchen, sweeping the hair out of my face and staring into my eyes.

“Lucas will come back, Rebecca,” he says in a warm voice, making sure I keep the eye contact. “I am his brother, not by blood but by choice. I know he is coming back or else I would have never left him go without me.”

I trust Gio. I have always trusted him the confidence his stare was nesting makes me stop weeping, placing my all faith in him, looking into his chocolate eyes, seeking for more assurance of his words.

“Here Ms. Tate, this will make you feel better,” Lore said, handing me two pills and a glass of water on a small tray. “Mr. Tate always keeps his word. If he says he is back in two days, then he will be back in two days,” she says with a warm smile.

I threw the two pills down my throat and drained the glass of water.

“Keep bringing them whenever I am wake, Lore,” I told her.

Standing up and leaving everybody behind, I went upstairs to the bedroom as I knew I would crash in maximum half an hour.

I had nothing else to do but wait.

The house was circled with security and even a fly wouldn’t get out or in and I felt safe but couldn’t say the same about Lucas. He was up to something. Something dangerous, as I knew it involved my father. And I knew who my father was.

Lucas never jokes with the safety of our home. It was the same in our first year of marriage when he kept piling up security guards around our mansion. There was a time when I thought even Lore was a security guard.

I lay on the bed, holding the phone in my hand, waiting.

I try again Lucas’ number. Voice mail.

Tears fall on my temples and I cry my eyes out till I fall asleep.

I slowly lift my heavy eyelids when I heard movements around the room. Hastily, I yanked my head back, hoping it was Lucas coming in, but instead Lore walked in, carrying a tray with food.

“Lore, did anybody call?” I ask, lifting myself to sit propped against the bed’s headboard.

“No, Ms. Tate,” the disappointed answer came fast.

I still have the phone in my hand, so I try again Lucas’ number, without getting through though. I am taken again to the voicemail.

I call Gio immediately after.

“Gio, any news? Did Lucas call?”

“No, Ms. Tate. And he will not till he is done.”

“And for how long will you be fucking waiting? How do you know he is fine?” I yell at him.

“We have orders to wait till tomorrow midnight.”

“Fuck your orders!” I spit and hit the red button. “What’s this?” I ask Lore, almost shouting.

“Your dinner, Ms. Tate. And the pills as well.”

“Take it away. I don’t want it.”

“But...”

I snap my head up to throw a deadly glare at her for daring to insist and she understands.

She takes the tray and leaves the room.

I scroll for Brad’s number and I dial. The answer comes after one ring only, as if he was waiting for my call, or maybe just any call telling him his son is well and alive.

“Rebecca, what’s wrong?” his voice sounds worried.

“Lucas didn’t call yet.”

“I know, Becca. We will wait until tomorrow midnight.”

“No! You know where he is. Please send Gio for him.”

“Gio is staying with you, Rebecca. It’s better this way.”

I sob instantly, uncaring if Brad hears me or not.

“Please, Brad...” I ask him with such a doubted plea. I knew Gio will not move from his designated location unless Lucas says so, but I had to try.

“Rebecca, I can’t. It is Lucas’ orders and trust me, I wouldn’t do otherwise if I were him.”

I hang up the phone with Bradford, dropping my hand limp on the bed and the phone together with it.

I hated Lucas like fuck!

I mourned him one time. I wouldn’t be able to do it again. I won’t be able to bare it.

I lay on my belly on the bed and I dial Lucas number hundreds of times, each time the call never getting through.

And I tried and tried and dialed till I fell back asleep.


“Leave when respect is no longer served.”
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