Raphael's POV
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S ALREADY TRENDING?!"
The glass of water on my desk rattled as my fist landed in the table. Marco flinched - something he hadn't done since his first week on the job sixteen years ago.
"Someone leaked the marriage certificate to "Hot Mafia Daddies Weekly,'" he reported, then immediately regretted his choice of words as my head snapped up.
"To what?"
"It's a... blog, sir. Quite popular among..."
"I don't care how popular it is!" I pulled up the offending article on my tablet, my jaw clenching as I read the headline: 'CONFIRMED: NYC's Hottest Crime Boss Says 'I Do' in Surprise Vegas-Style Wedding!'
Below was a blurry photo of Susan running through the service entrance, her graduation gown and purse in hand. She looked terrified. Beautiful, but terrified.
"Find out who leaked it," I growled, scrolling through the comments. Hundreds of them, speculating about my new bride. About why I'd suddenly abandoned my anti-marriage stance. Some even suggesting this was all part of some business merger.
If only they knew the truth.
"Boss?" Marco cleared his throat. "There's more."
"More?"
He hesitantly slid his phone across the desk. The society pages of every major newspaper had picked up the story. Paparazzi were already camping outside all my known properties. And worst of all...
"Is that my MOTHER giving an interview?!"
There she was, Bella Marino herself, beaming at reporters outside her favorite salon. The caption read: 'Marino Matriarch Thrilled About Surprise Daughter-in-Law: "She has spirit! Did you hear about the vase?"
"Take it down," I ordered, my voice deadly quiet. "All of it. Now."
"Boss, with all due respect..." Marco shifted uncomfortably, "it's already viral. The video of her singing 'That's Amore' in the car has over a million views."
What the hell! "What do you mean there's a video?"
"Your driver... may have been recording. For security purposes, of course."
I groaned inwardly, fighting back a headache that had nothing to do with my condition. "Let me get this straight. Not only is my private life splashed across every tabloid in the city, but there's also a trending video of my wife in all her hungover glory?"
"The comments are actually quite supportive," Marco offered helpfully. "They're calling her 'Vase Girl' and 'The Bride Who Dared.' There's even a hashtag..."
"Enough!" I stood abruptly, making him step back. "This ends now. I want every copy of that video destroyed. Every photographer outside my properties...dealt with. That unprofessional driver should be fired as well. Get me someone that respects my privacy for crying out loud."
"And your mother's interviews?"
I collapsed back into my chair. Even I wasn't powerful enough to stop Bella Marino from gushing about her new daughter-in-law, it's what she'd always wanted.
"Boss?" Marco ventured carefully. "Maybe this isn't entirely bad. The public seems to love her. They're calling it a modern fairytale - the ordinary girl who stole the heart of..."
"She didn't steal my heart. No one can." I snapped. "You know why I did it."
Marco nodded in understanding. He was present when the doctor delivered the awful news. He knew the tough situation I was in.
"This media circus will only scare her more," I said finally, staring at the photo of Susan running away. "She's already terrified of me, of this life. And now..." I gestured at the headlines.
"Boss," Marco's voice held a hint of amusement, "Just so you know, Mrs. Marino doesn't strike me as someone who scares easily."
He had a point. Susan hadn't shown an ounce of the fear I was accustomed to seeing. Even now, she was outrunning my best men, even in her disheveled state."
"Find her," I ordered, softer this time. "But no more strong-arm tactics. No more men in suits terrifying her friends. Just... find her."
"And then?"
I looked at the headlines again, at my mother's beaming face, at the comments calling Susan a legend for standing up to me.
"Then I tell her the truth. All of it. And hope she doesn't find anything heavier than a vase to throw at me."
Marco I nodded, a slight smile on his lips as he turned to leave.
"And Marco?"
"Yes, Boss?"
"Find out who leaked that marriage certificate. When this is over, I want to have a... conversation with them."
"Already working on it, Boss." He paused at the door. "Though you might want to check your mother's phone first. She did say something about 'sharing the joy with her salon friends.'"
I groaned, reaching for my phone. I had a lot of damage control to do, and it started with convincing my mother that viral videos of my wife were not, in fact, 'good for the family image.'
At least Susan hadn't seen any of this yet.
I hoped.
Susan's POV
"Stop fidgeting with your hair," Laura hissed as we walked down Aunt Martha's front steps. "You look fine."
"Fine isn't good enough when you're about to face your handsome mob husband. I need to look good, maybe he won't be mad at me then." I whispered back, tugging at the simple blue dress Laura had lent me.
The Black SUV van we'd watched circle the block all morning sat idling at the curb. Two men in black suits stood beside it, looking exactly like the "very scary Italian men" Aunt Martha had described.
"I can't believe I let you talk me into coming," Laura muttered, but I could see the curiosity burning in her eyes. She practically jumped from her seat when I asked her to go with me. She'd spent the remaining part of the morning choosing her outfit, "just in case we run into any other hot mob bosses."
"You owe me for missing my graduation disaster," I reminded her, squeezing her hand. "Plus, I need someone sane with me, so that I don't do anything stupid."
The taller of the two men stepped forward. "Mrs. Marino?"
"That's still weird to hear," I mumbled, then straightened my spine. "Yes. I'm ready to see my husband now."
They opened the car door with care, and Laura giggled. "This is like a movie," she whispered as we slid into the classy interior.
The drive started normally enough. Laura kept chattering about how she'd always wondered what these bulletproof vehicles looked like inside. I was too busy rehearsing what I'd say to Raphael.
"Should I apologize for all the troubles I'd caused first or lead with demanding answers about why he married me?" I wondered aloud.
"Definitely the first," Laura advised. "Men like it when you acknowledge their head injuries before interrogating them."
I nodded, "Yeah, you're right."
It wasn't until we'd been driving for nearly an hour that I realized something was wrong. The sleek houses and buildings we're used to seeing had given way to estates I'd never seen before.
"Um, guys?" I leaned forward. "I don't think this is the right way. Raphael's penthouse is in the city."
There was complete silence from the front seat.
Laura's hand found mine, squeezing hard. "Maybe he has another house?" she offered, but her voice had lost its excitement.
The SUV turned down a tree-lined drive I definitely didn't recognize, approaching a mansion that looked nothing like the modern building I'd fled yesterday.
"This isn't right," I said louder. "Where are you taking us?"
More silence.
"Hey!" I kicked the back of the driver's seat. "I asked you a question! Is this one of Raphael's houses?"
The vehicle came to a stop in front of a strange mansion's entrance. That's when I noticed the unfamiliar crest carved into the stone. Not the Marino family symbol I'd seen yesterday.
"Laura," I breathed, "I don't think these are Raphael's men."
Just then, the doors locked from the inside.