Indebted to the Mafia King
Coming Back Home

Chloe

Memories of the past couple of years pass before my eyes as I stare into my now empty bedroom in our family home in Miami. When Dad decided to move out of New York and come here, I was upset to leave my old life behind, but the idea of starting anew, of getting away from all that craziness was somewhat exciting.

Turns out so much has happened ever since that I still can't decide if this was indeed a good idea or not.

So much has changed.

And now Dad is no longer here to protect us. To tell us what to do. To comfort me with words of wisdom and experience whenever I need to hear them.

He's gone. In a blink of an eye.

One day he was here, and the next... pfft, gone.

All that was left are the memories we created together.

And some of them will remain behind as soon as we walk out the door and get back to New York.

"Chloe, sweetheart?" Mom's sweet voice calls me from the door. I look over my shoulders, my eyes blurry with unshed tears. "Come on, baby. The car is waiting outside," she tells me kindly.

I nod, turning back to look at the spacious room, feeling nostalgic. "I'll meet you downstairs in a second, Mom."

She doesn't say anything else before I hear her footsteps fading down the hallway. I glance around once more, taking in my old bedroom for the last time before leaving.

And then I realize I'm actually thankful we won't stay here any longer. This place doesn't feel safe anymore. It doesn't feel like home. Without my dad here, I don't feel like we belong here.

So, determined and ready for a new beginning, I take a deep breath and walk out the door, meeting my mom in the foyer.

In her arms is my most precious treasure, Ellie. Her dark hair is tied up in two tiny ponytails on top of her head, and her big, round blue eyes-they are exactly like mine-are looking up at me as I finish descending the stairs.

She lets out a high-pitched squeak as she sees me, saying "mama", and I smile at her, taking her from my mom's arms and gently rocking her up and down.

"Hey, baby," I whisper to her. "Ready to go? We're going to mommy's old house in New York. Are you excited?"

She mumbles a "yes", something she's learned a month ago, as if she understands my question, and I look at my mom, unspoken words being conceived in the form of an understanding glance.

For a moment, Nicky Bertolucci doesn't resemble the woman I know. The strong leader of the mob's wives. For a brief second, she allows me to see her vulnerability. She looks exhausted, the black Chanel suit she's wearing representing the darkness in our hearts. Her skinny form looks like it carries the weight of the world on her shoulders, but her chin is determinedly up, and the fire in her eyes tells me that she is not giving up.

My mother is one of the strongest women I know, and if there's someone who can reassure me that everything will be fine it's her.

Just as quick as it comes, her vulnerability disappears as if it had been just a glimpse of my imagination. She gives me a sharp nod and gestures for us to go.

We get settled into the car, Ellie on my lap and Mom by my side as the driver takes us to the airport. I get lost in my own thoughts all the way, watching the beach pass by us in a blur outside the window.

"It will be nice to be home, don't you think?" my mother asks me. I turn to look at her, and as though her voice conveys relief, she seems nervous.

I know I'm nervous. But probably not for the same reasons as her.

Last night, she told me that Tony would be sending a private jet to pick us up and take us to New York. I don't know how I feel about that. Everything involving him makes me nervous.

"Yeah, I guess so," I finally answer, not sure what else I should say. I'm still trying to comprehend my own feelings. I can't offer her any reassurance or comfort right now.

We remain silent for the rest of the ride, except from occasional screams and mumblings of random words from Ellie.

As soon as the driver rolls up to the hangar, I see Tony's private jet already waiting for us. The driver and some of the airport staff help us with the luggage, and Mom takes Ellie, who's now sleeping, from my arms. It's a good thing she's out, because I'm not sure how she'll behave on the flight since this is the first time I've traveled with her by plane, and I'm not in the right state of mind to deal with her crying for the next three hours.

We're about to get on the plane when I spot a black SUV pulling up behind our car. I instantly tense up. I glance at my mom, my fists tightened beside me.

"Take Ellie inside, Mom. I'll be right there with you," I urge her as soon as I see Eduardo stepping out of the car.

My mother's eyes dart to him and back at me. "Hurry up," she warns me, and then she climbs the stairs to the plane with my daughter safely in her arms. I'm instantly relieved, but we're not out of harm's way yet.

Will we ever be though?

"Ms. Bertolucci," Eduardo greets in his serious tone as soon as he approaches me. "I must tell you my boss is not happy about you leaving without saying goodbye."

"Mateo has no right to be happy or angry about anything concerning me any longer," I tell him bitterly.

Eduardo sneers, the sound causing shivers to run down my spine. "Right," he mumbles. "Well, I hope you enjoy your short vacation in New York, Mrs. Bertolucci." He tilts his head toward the plane and grins at me.

I hate the way it makes me feel-vulnerable, insecure, as if there is no place in this world where I can escape from Mateo's claws.

"He expects you to be back in Miami immediately," he adds, his hands instantly darting to his belt where he has his gun in the holster. He's obviously trying to scare me, but I won't let him.

"Mateo already knows I'm not coming back," I reply with my chin up, not willing to show him how easily he can affect me.

Eduardo stares at me expressionlessly. "My boss takes care of his own. If you think you can take his daughter away from him, or yourself for that matter, you're sorely mistaken."

I gulp, unsure of what to say to that. In fact, I shouldn't say anything. Mateo and I already went through this conversation. Sure, he didn't agree to it, but there is no way he's telling me what to do any longer. I'm tired of it. I'm tired of letting other people control my every move, my decisions, my life.

Especially Mateo.

So, instead of coming up with a witty remark, I simply turn my back to Eduardo, leaving him standing on the tarmac as I get into the plane. I try to ignore the way my legs are wobbling as if they have turned into jelly. My heart rate is so fast right now that I fear it might burst out of my chest at any minute.

But I need to remain strong.

For Ellie. For Mom. For myself.

I can't give in. I can't let Mateo win.

"I'll see you soon, Ms. Bertolucci," Eduardo yells from behind me, and I briefly close my eyes, taking a deep breath and trying to steady myself.

My mom is already in her seat, her seatbelt fastened, by the time I step inside. Ellie is still peacefully sleeping in her arms.

"Is everything okay?" Mom asks me with a concerned expression on her face.

I sit across from her, settling down in my seat so the plane can depart.

I don't trust my voice yet, so I simply nod at her in response. I know she can tell I'm not okay, but thankfully she doesn't insist.

"Ma'am, please tell the pilot we're ready to leave," my mother tells the young and kind flight attendant who nods at her and goes into the pilot cabin.

I look out the window and find Eduardo in the same spot I left him. He's Mateo's right hand, the guy who does all his dirty work with no guilt in his conscience. He's just as scary as Mateo, and that's saying a lot.

I watch as he reaches for his phone, sliding his finger on the screen to answer an incoming phone call. I don't need to see it to know who's calling him. Eduardo's eyes find mine from across the lane, and as much as I want to look away, I still don't want him to see how scared I am.

This has been a bold move of mine. I never thought I'd have the courage to move away from Mateo, to leave him behind, but after my father died, it was our best chance of surviving.

Eduardo waves at me, wiggling his fingers in a mocking way. I fight the urge to vomit. I close my eyes again, inhaling sharply over my nose and letting it out through my mouth.

"We're safe now, sweetheart," Mom reassures me with a soft voice, her eyes studying me. "No one can touch us when we're back in New York and under the protection of the Saints. They will look after us."

Her words are soothing, but why don't I feel safe? Why can't I believe her words?

I look down at my arms, spotting the bruises on my wrists and the tiny scars on the skin of my forearms. My throat tightens.

It's been less than a month since I told my mother the truth. For too long, I was mad at her for not seeing what was so evident, happening right under her nose. Why couldn't she save me from the nightmare I was living in? But it wasn't fair of me to put this on her.

It wasn't anyone's fault but my own.

However, once I told her everything, she proved to be a safe harbor for both me and Ellie.

I couldn't imagine doing this without her. I could never step away from Mateo without her encouragement.

"I really hope you're right," I answer.

In the back of my mind, I still wonder if moving back home is the right choice. What if we are just delaying the inevitable?

Mateo is not the type of man to be messed with. He doesn't like to share. And he certainly doesn't like his "toys" making a run for it.

He's incredibly possessive over me and Ellie.

It scares the shit out of me just imagining what he is capable of doing to get us both back under his wings.

I don't know for how long I stay awake, looking out the window, feeling the peace the clouds and the orange sky offer me. When I realize it, I'm waking up to see the Manhattan skyline before me.

And an instant feeling of belonging washes over me.

He will protect us. I know it.

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