Mafia Runaway Bride

MARA'S POV

They said a girl's happiest day was her wedding day because she felt prettiest and most confident but why did I not feel the gitters?

The sound of the trumpets and chatters from the guests could be heard from outside the door-- they were all waiting for me to walk in and get married to the man I love... or loved.

Was everything just an illusion?

The wedding dress felt really heavy and the flowers turned ugly at the mere thought of getting married to Ross Larkin.

Was this cold feet?

I was sure when I said yes to his proposal or did I do it because of my mom who wanted to keep the money in the family and she didn't think about how I felt before pushing me into this outrageous set up?

I did not want to go in there and be miserable for all my life but not getting married to Ross was me losing everything including my life but I had to escape and live by my rules.

I threw the flowers on the floor, the petals broke apart like something I promised would nothappen, then I ran.

The dress was heavy and slow, so I kicked off my shoes.

The cold floor made my feet freeze, the hallway went by fast. I saw shiny lights and doors moving quickly.

My mom's voice, telling me to be good, echoed in my head, but I pushed that thought away, just like I pushed away the memory of the bruises he had left on me for daring to question him.

The hall way went by so fast, way too fast but I stopped in front of a room to catch my breath when the bell mistakenly rang.

I jumped out of my skin, my heart skipping a beat when the door clicked open-- a man who had a snake tattoo on his chest and was dripping wet-- must have just gotten out of the shower.

I stood there as if I forgot to breathe not because of him but because loud noises could be heard from down the hallway, and I knew I was in danger.

I pushed past the stranger and ran inside his room then slipped behind his door.

"What the heck?" he said loudly, his voice was rough.

"Hide... please hide me. Just for a little while, then I'll go," I said as my voice shook.

He shot me a sharp look that I couldn't tell if he was confused or surprised, but he shut the door and turned to his room and I followed suit.

The room was messy with whiskey bottles on the table and cigarettes butt all over in a dish. He rubbed his wet hair with his hand and looked at me closely.

"You're going to cause a lot of trouble for me,"

"I won't stay long," I begged, twisting the lace on my dress. "Just help me."

His eyes wandered all over my body-- my dress, my scattered hair and my bare feet, making me feel naked.

"Okay," he said quietly, moving back. "Be quiet."

I felt relieved, but my legs were shaky. "I need clothes, too. I can't go out like this." The dress was like Ross's prison, made with his rules.

He smiled in a teasing way and stepped closer, his eyes raking me then stopping at the tearing in my dress near my thigh.

"What, do you want me to take off my towel? Put on a show?" His voice was low and a little bit bad, and my skin felt hot, I couldn't stop it.

"Just clothes," I said quickly, putting my arms across my chest to hide the hot feeling on my neck.

He let out a rough and teasing laugh and then grabbed gray shirt and black trousers from a bag. "Bathroom's over there." He threw them to me, still looking at me in a serious way. "Unless you want to change right here. I don't care."

I held the clothes tightly, my face felt hot. "No thanks," I mumbled and ran to the bathroom, locking the door.

The mirror showed someone I did not know- I was pale, my eyes were red, and I had bruises on my ribs, arms and legs.

I felt pain as I took off the dress, the cloth caught on my sore skin.

My mom's voice came into my head: A good wife just deals with it, Mara. Do not fight back.

I wanted to yell, break the mirror, and make that voice go away.

I was not going back, not to him, not to that life.

I put on the clothes, the shirt was big, and the pants were soft, they smelled like leather and smoke.

My body felt a strange feeling- bad kind of wanting that was low in my stomach.

I was still changing, pulling the shirt over my head, when I heard a voice through the door, my heart stopped.

"Luca, you weasel!" Ross's voice boomed, warm and familiar, like they were buddies. "Didn't think you'd skip the racetrack for my big day."

"Ross, you old rascal," the stranger-Luca replied, his voice light. I heard a clap of hands and their easy laughter, like old friends. "Are you okay, buddy? You look terrible. What's wrong?"

Ross sighed dramatically, his voice breaking just enough to sound believable. "It's Mara. My bride's gone, Luca. She ran off before the ceremony, and I'm heartbroken, man. I love her, and she humiliated me, disappeared like I'm nothing."

His pain was a lie, a performance for sympathy, but it would fool anyone who didn't know his fists, his control.

I froze, shirt half on, hands shaking, pressed against the bathroom door.

Ross was right outside, telling his story, and I was trapped.

My heart beat really fast, fear choking me.

Luca knew I was here, but would he tell on me?

Luca's voice came, it was calm, like he was bored. "She's in the bathroom."

just

Mara's pov

My stomach dropped, betrayal cutting like a knife.

Why?

I'd begged him to hide me, and he'd just given me away.

Ross's footsteps came closer, his voice low and dangerous. "Mara? Are you in there, sweetheart?"

The bathroom door flew open really fast and hit the wall hard. Ross looked right at me, and his eyes were full of angry fire.

His face was red and angry, he looked at me like I was trash. I wanted to run to the window, but he made me feel small and weak again.

"You stupid bitch," Ross said meanly, coming in and grabbing my hair. He pulled me hard, and my head hurt a lot. I stumbled, and the cold floor hurt my bare feet. "Think you can run?" he spat, his words like tight chains around me.

Ross threw me down on the rug, and my knees got blisters. "You had to run to another man?" he yelled.

He punched my shoulder hard, I curled up in a ball, putting my arms over my face.

Then he hit my ribs, and I couldn't breathe.

Luca's eyes got wide, and his chest went up and down real fast. His hands made fists but he didn't make a move, didn't expect him to after all he sold me out to Ross.

"You think you can run away, Mara? You're nothing without me." Then his voice got soft and sneaky, every word felt like a chain. "I gave you everything; clothes, a house, a life. You'd be a homeless person begging for food if it wasn't for me, and you know you have no one else. Your family? They're done with you. Your friends? They like me now. If you leave, you're nothing, and you'll come crawling back to me, begging me to help."

I bit my lip so hard it bled; my body shook right there. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

The words came out weak and sad.

My mom's voice yelled in my head: Say you're sorry. Be good.

I hated myself for saying it.

His words made me feel small and like I was the one who did something wrong.

"Sorry?" Ross laughed in a cold, mean way, then he punched my cheek hard. It hurt so much, and I saw stars. "You don't get to make me look like a fool. No way! You're going to walk down that aisle, Mara. I own you, I always will." He kicked my leg with his boot, and I flinched.

I felt more ashamed than hurt.

He was right-I had nowhere to go and no one who cared about me, but I wasn't nothing.

"Stop it!" Luca's voice said loud and angry, raw with shock. He stepped forward, his shoulders square, his eyes blazing. "What the heck, Ross? She's not your punching bag."

Ross turned around and looked at him in a mean way. 'Stay out of this, Luca. She's mine to deal with."

He kicked my side again.

I gasped and curled up tighter, my cheek was throbbing and blood dripped onto the rug.

Luca's betrayal mixed with the pain.

Now he wants to play hero? Too late.

But his voice came again, sharp and angry. "You're pathetic. Hitting a woman? That's not a man, that's a coward. Let her go you jerk."

Ross pounced, pushing Luca back, his face full of rage.

"You want her? She's damaged goods, a slut who will ruin you too."

He swung his fist at me, grazing my jaw, sending me falling, pain spreading through my head as I hit the ground.

"Enough!" Luca roared, tackling Ross and slamming him into the wall.

Bottles fell off the table and broke into pieces. Luca's fist hit Ross's jaw, and I heard a sharp crack.

Ross tried to hit back, but the stranger was faster, he held Ross down, his muscles looking strong under his shirt.

My body felt hot watching him, it was a mix of fear, anger and wanting him that I could not understand.

Luca kicked Ross hard in the side. "You don't put hands on a woman, that's the rule. Stay down, jerk."

Ross groaned and held his ribs; his face was twisted in pain, blood on his lips.

Luca turned to me, his eyes looked angry but also a little bit soft around the edges like he saw me, not just the broken bride.

"Get up, we're leaving."

I stood up slowly, my legs were shaky, and my cheek burned. "No," I said sharply, my voice was rough. "You told him I was here, why should I trust you?"

I snapped looking at Ross spitting blood on the carpet, and something inside me broke free.

I wasn't his, I wasn't anybody's.

He grabbed my wrist tightly and it sent a shock through me. "You want to stay with this douchebag?" he growled, looking right into my eyes. "He'll kill you if you don't leave."

I pulled my arm back, but he didn't let go as he pulled me toward the door. "Let me go," I whispered angrily.

My voice shook but he was stronger, pulling me into the hallway.

The air was cold, Ross's groans got quieter behind us.

My bare feet made slapping sounds on the stairs as we ran down a back way, his grip was steady.

At the bottom of the stairs, he pushed open a door to a narrow street behind the hotel.

The city lights were bright and harsh, he let go of my wrist, and I felt like I lost something as my skin went cold.

"Do you have anywhere else to go?" he asked.

I looked at him then looked straight ahead because I didn't have anywhere to go to, I was basically homeless and had nowhere to call home.

He leaned against a shiny black car; his breathing was so loud I could hear it. "Get in," he told me, opening the driver's side door.

I didn't move right away.

Why should I trust him?

Why should I go with him?

But Ross's words echoed in my head then I looked back at the hotel, then at the stranger.

He looked tense, and his eyes were locked on me like I was important.

I got into the car; the leather seats felt cool on my legs.

He slid in next to me, then started the car, the rumbling made me shake.

He drove away fast, and the city lights blurred.

My eyelids grew heavy as pain and adrenaline crashed, the world shifted as darkness crept in, and I slumped against the seat, his scent the last thing I felt before everything went black.

MARA'S POV

I woke up, my heart beating fast, the room was bright and soft.

Where was I?

The bed was huge and silky, nothing like the hard floor I had experienced the previous day. My cheek still hurt and I could taste dried blood on my lips.

I looked around: tall ceilings, dark wood, sunlight streaming in, yeah, I definitely wasn't at the hotel anymore, panic gripped me.

Was I trapped again?

I checked my clothes; I wasn't in the big sweat shirt and baggy trousers. I let out a loud gasp, someone had changed my clothes. My stomach twisted with fear, wondering who had done this.

The door opened, and Luca walked in holding a tray.

He was the guy who told Ross where I was. He smiled, a warm, easy smile, like we were friends.

"You're awake," he said, putting the tray down. His voice was rough but gentle, as if he hadn't just messed up everything for me.

I pulled the blanket up to my chin. "What's this? You changed my clothes?" my voice shook with panic. "Did you touch me?"

The feelings I felt was a mix of dread and a confusing, wrong feeling that I needed to push away from my head.

He lets out a smirk, then looked at me with a wanting look, "What if I did? You owe me a thank you, don't you think?"

"A thank you?" I shot back. "You took advantage of a girl who was helpless"

He put his hands up and stepped back, his smile fading. "Hold on, I'm a gentleman, okay? You passed out in my car, covered in blood. My housekeeper changed you and cleaned you up. I didn't touch you, I swear." His voice was sharp, a little hurt, but his eyes lingered on my bare shoulders, and I saw a hungry look he didn't hide.

I gripped the blanket, shaking, unsure. "A gentleman? You sold me out to Ross. Why should I believe you?" my voice trembled, but I glared at him, anger pushing through the shame. His eyes, his body, pulled me in, but he had already hurt me. Trust was a huge risk.

He rubbed his jaw, his muscles tight, guilt flashing in his eyes. "I agree I messed up by telling him where you were, okay? I didn't think he'd go that far. But when I saw him hit you, I couldn't just stand there. I knew I had to do something, that's why I got you out of there." His words sounded raw, like he was angry at himself, and my heart softened a little despite his betrayal.

"Got me out?" I asked, putting the blanket down and standing on shaky legs. My shorts rode up, and his eyes moved to my thighs. "You don't get to ack like my hero after selling me out. I am not some project you fix because you're bored." Pain pulled at me, but I stood tall.

He stepped closer, his scent washed over me, my guts to tighten. "You're hurt, and you have nowhere to go. Stay, eat, think it through." His voice dropped, firm as his eyes locked on mine.

It was a challenge that made my skin tingle, and my body wanted to lean into him.

I crossed my arms, hiding the blush on my chest. "I can't stay here, not after what you did. I need to go."

My words were steady, but my knees shook. What if he was right? No plan, no money, just bruises from a guy who had already let me down.

He leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, muscles flexing under his shirt. He had a small smile. "Go? In those shorts, no shoes, with Ross after you? You'll be back in his hands by tonight."

"I'll figure something out." I mumbled, slipping past him.

My arm brushed his chest, and a spark shot through me, my body wanting more. I hated it, hated how close he made me feel alive when all I wanted was to run.

The hallway was wide, with shiny marble, like a rich man's maze. My feet slapped the floor, each step fighting the fear gripping me. Where was my out?

He followed, his boots thudding, his voice loud. "You're going to get hurt out there. Ross is mad you ran away. Stay, let me help you." He grabbed my wrist, turning me. his grip was warm and firm, sending heat up my arm. "I'm not your enemy."

I pulled back, my chest throbbing, the memory of Ross's fist. "Help? Trust you? No way."

He stepped closer; way too close to me. His breath was warm, and his eyes searched mine. "I'm not him, okay? I messed up once, but I won't again. You're safe here." His voice softened, a plea under the roughness.

His hand hovered near my cheek, as if he wanted to touch but held back. My body leaned toward him, craving it, before I stepped back, my heart racing.

"Thanks for the bed, the food and clothes," I blurted, my voice firm to hide the warmth pooling inside me. "But I have to deal with my own problems." I turned, heading for the stairs.

I was done feeling helpless and I don't need yet another man to rely on to help me fight. I was going to prove Ross and his family wrong even if it destroyed me.

His fingers grazed my arm gently, his thumb brushing my skin, a jolt making me gasp. "Don't be foolish." He growled, his eyes fierce, like I was his to protect. "Do you think you can run away from Ross Larkin? There is nowhere you're going to hide that he won't find you in this city except here. You bruised his ego and he is going to do anything possible to get back right at you even if you have to pay with your life."

I opened my mouth to speak but no words came out because I had no idea what to say, just then a voice roared from downstairs, harsh and full of anger that cut through the air.

"Luca, you jerk! Where are you?" It was Ross. My blood ran cold, my legs froze, and fear choked me.

He was here, in the house. His shout was like a chain pulling me back. Luca's grip tightened, his eyes flicking upward then to me.

A question burned in his eyes: run or hide?