DeLuca (Mafia Romance)

“Frankie,” I called out in question as I approached the table. She didn’t seem scared, just annoyed. I didn’t want to make a scene if she knew this guy, but the way his arm was casually thrown over the back of her chair made me want to shoot him.

The guy didn’t turn towards me when I placed our drinks on the table. “Fuck off, she’s busy.”

“Get off me, Chad,” Frankie growled and pushed him away. Her rejection didn’t deter him for long because he dived back into her neck.

“Come on, baby. You know you want to,” he cajoled, this time wrapping one arm around her shoulders and placing the other on her thigh, either in an effort to keep her from getting away or convince her to stay; I didn’t know which, and I didn’t care.

I’d been trying to play it cool so I wouldn’t embarrass her. This was her school after all. She had to see these people every day and they didn’t live in my world-the world where the consequences weren’t the same, where killing was as natural as breathing. But seeing his hands on her had the last strands of my self-control snapping.

Walking around the table, I gripped him by the collar of his Polo shirt with one hand and ripped the hand that had been groping her thigh away with the other. Hauling him up and out of the chair, I turned him to face me.

“Leave her alone,” I said coldly, releasing him once he was steady on his feet.

“Who the fuck are you?” he sneered, jerkily righting his disheveled clothes.

Ignoring his question, I looked to Frankie. “You good?” I asked roughly.

She gave me a sharp nod, but her eyes darted around the bar. I followed her line of sight, noticing a group of large men at the edge of the dance floor watching the altercation. “I’m good, Enzo,” she confirmed, telling me with her eyes to let it go.

Satisfied with her answer, I turned back to the asshole. He was still standing there, waiting for me to respond to his earlier question. We were about the same height, and while he had an athletic build, I had at least thirty pounds of muscle on the guy. A fact he seemed to take notice of when I stepped forward-into his space.

“All you need to know is, the next time you see Frankie, you’re going to turn around and head in the opposite direction.” I said, my voice low and calm. “Now, I’m going give you a free pass for the shit you just pulled and let you walk away and keep your pride intact, but know this, if you so much as breathe in her direction again, I’ll make sure you’re breathing from a tube for the rest of your life. Do you understand me, Chad?”

He swallowed thickly and cleared his throat before darting his eyes behind me to his friends. Puffing out his chest, he took a step back and scoffed, “Whatever,” he said loudly so his friends could hear, “I don’t want her anyways; she’s a pain in the ass.”

“That’s why I married her,” I smirked, grabbing my beer off the table and taking my seat next to Frankie.

Chad looked from Frankie to me and back again, his eyes wide. “Whatever dude, I’m out.”

I laughed and watched him hurry off to his group of friends. Frankie smacked my arm and mumbled something that sounded a lot like ‘asshole’ under her breath.

“What was that?” I asked, handing her one of the shots I’d brought back.

“Nothing,” she said grabbing the tequila shot and downing it without the fanfare. “What did you say to him? I couldn’t hear over the music.”Content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Nothing much, just told him to stay away from you,” I shrugged, because it was basically what I’d said.

“Yeah fucking right, and for the record, you did not marry me because I’m a pain in the ass.”

“That’s what you think,” I laughed.

“What the fuck ever, buddy. Now shut up and drink!” she yelled, handing me the last shot.

I paused before taking my shot to watch her throw hers back. Her throat worked as she swallowed, and I was instantly turned on. Adjusting myself discreetly under the table I racked my mind for something that would distract me from the growing bulge in my pants. But that was the thing about Frankie; nothing could deter my attraction to her. For the past four years, even though it was wrong and I’d made the conscious decision not to go there, my desire for her had never waned.

“So, who was that guy?” I finally asked. I’d tried to ignore it, but it bothered me that someone felt they could get that close to her without her permission and the fact that she didn’t seem to think it was a big deal.

“Ugh, Chad. He’s the resident playboy, but he’s harmless. He hit on me at a frat party last semester and I turned him down; he’s been smitten ever since. Just another guy that’s never heard the word ‘no’ before. Eventually he’ll get bored and move on,” she said with a wave of her hand.

“Just be careful, Franny. Guys like that don’t take rejection well, and I just wounded his ego.”

“Well I’m pretty sure you telling him we’re married was enough to scare him off, but I’ll be careful. I promise.”

“You have the mace I gave you?”

“Yes,” she said rolling her eyes.

“And the Taser?”

“Fuck, yes. Enzo, I’m perfectly safe. I promise.”

“And what were you doing at a frat party anyways?” I questioned.

“Jesus, come on let’s dance,” she suggested, ignoring my question.

I shook my head. “I don’t dance.”

Walking around the table, she stood in front of me and wiggled her hips. “Come on, you don’t always have to be the tough guy,” she urged.

“No.”

“Fine, I’ll go find someone else to dance with,” she said and disappeared onto the crowded dance floor.

Motherfucker.