Second chance for the Mafia prince (January and Gulliver) novel Chapter 1

Choking on a sob, she waited until she heard Thisbe stomping up the stairs to the bedroom she kept in the mansion where January lived with Gulliver and then tiptoed her way to the front entrance. Grabbing her handbag from where she’d dumped it on a side table she took shaking breaths as she left the house and walked resolutely down the driveway.

Original composition by Tatienne Richard exclusively for My Fiction. If you’re reading this elsewhere it has been stolen from the platform.

She walked as far as she could down the street of the affluent neighborhood and then sat down on a curb and called her father.

“Daddy.”

Immediately from the tone of her voice he knew something was wrong.

“January, honey, what’s wrong?”

“It was all a lie. Can you come get me?”

“What was a lie?”

“We were never married. Apparently he’s engaged to be married to someone else in England.”

“What? What are you saying?”

“The ceremony where you gave me away to him? It was a fake. It was all fake.”

“Where are you?”

“About fifteen minutes walking distance away from his house. I can’t go back there. I can’t.”

“It’s probably a misunderstanding, January. You need to talk to him.”

“I heard him and Thisbe. Thisbe was angry because he’s lying to me. He wants to be vovoi, I don’t know what that means, but in order to get that title he has to do what his grandfather says and marry some woman named Duchess. I didn’t misunderstand Dad. She was giving him shit for wanting his cake and eating it too. I’m the other woman. Our marriage certificate was fake. He wants me to have his babies,” she gagged as a thought hit her. “Oh god, Daddy, I’m pregnant. The whole reason I went home instead of to my afternoon class was to tell him I’m pregnant. I can’t do this. I can’t.”

“Sweetheart, I want you to do me a favor.”

“What?”

“Tell me your exact address and then I want you to put your phone down the nearest drain. Then I want you to walk six more houses in the opposite direction of where you came from and on the opposite side of the street.”

“Daddy?” she was really confused at the panicked tone of his words.

“Honey, vovoiis the Greek word for head of a mafia family. Like the word Don for Italians, vovoi is for Greeks. I know this because your uncle was a detective with NYPD for many years and he worked the joint cases with the feds for crime families. I know the lingo. I never would have thought,” his voice fell off. “Tell me where you are and I’m coming to get you.”

Her brain was reeling but after he snapped at her angrily, instructed her again on what to do, she was dropping her cell phone down a storm drain, crossing the street, and sitting next to tall hedge, waiting for him to show up.

When he did shop up, she was surprised by how quickly he drove away.

“Dad, you’re driving really fast.”

“I wish I could. January walked into the house she was living in with her husband and sister-in-law to overhear a conversation about how her marriage was not real, her husband wants to be vovoi and she will forever be the other woman.”

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