Married to the mafia King

Bianca

The car roared down the streets of Florence at breakneck speed, zipping around other vehicles and occasionally swerving into oncoming traffic.

I was terrified and quickly put on my seatbelt.

We ran several red lights and barely avoided being plowed into by other cars.

Mezzasalma might have been old and wounded, but he was a terror behind the wheel.

He would even drive up onto sidewalks and nearly hit pedestrians to get around slower cars.

The sandy-haired man in the backseat rolled down his window and peered up at the sky. “I think we’ve got a helicopter tailing us.”

Mezzasalma scowled. “Are you sure?”

“I guess it could be a news chopper, but ”

“No, it’s them,” the old man snarled. “It’s too much of a coincidence for it not to be.”

“What should we do?”

The old man smirked. “Wait until we’re out of the city so the buildings won’t get in the way… then take it out.”

I was only half-listening to their conversation.

All I could think about was Adriano.

Was he still alive?

Please, God, let him be alright, I prayed as the city of Florence flashed all around us.

Adriano

Massimo drove like a fiend out of hell.

We roared through traffic as we followed the directions given to us by the helicopter pilot.

“They’re heading east on Viale Eturia,” the voice said into my ear.

“Got it,” Massimo said. He had an earpiece of his own.

He shifted gears and took a hard left down a side street.

“It looks like they’re headed for the countryside.”

“Where the fuck are they going?” Massimo muttered.

Then my phone rang.

Niccolo’s name appeared on the screen.

I answered immediately. “Mezzasalma has teams around the house.”

“We heard, but we think it’s a bluff. There’s nothing on the cameras.”

The old bastard…

He’d lied so we wouldn’t put a bullet in his head.

“But we’re being careful,” Niccolo continued. “We’ve got Bianca’s parents and Alessandra in a safe room. What’s going on there?”

“Mezzasalma’s got Bianca. Massimo’s driving and the helicopter’s telling us where to go.”

“What do you need?”

“The helicopter can fly someone to the hospital, right?”

“Yes,” the pilot said into my earphone.

“Yes,” Niccolo confirmed at the same time.

“Then get ready in case we need it.”

Bianca

The car left Florence and roared down a highway into the darkness.

As soon as the traffic thinned out, Mezzasalma stomped on the accelerator.

I watched nervously as the speedometer crept up.Content rights belong to NôvelDrama.Org.

130 kilometers per hour… 145… 160…

Which was the equivalent of 80 miles per hour… 90… 100…

But Mezzasalma was still weaving around individual cars like a race car driver.

“Where are we going?” I asked in fear.

“Out in the countryside,” Mezzasalma said with a nasty grin. “To see some friends of mine who will love to meet you.”

“We’re clear of the city, boss,” the sandy-haired man said. “You want me to… oh shit…”

“What?” Mezzasalma snapped.

“I think somebody’s chasing us in a car now, too…”

Mezzasalma peered into the rearview mirror. I saw his white, useless eye twitching as he looked.

Rather than get my head closer to his, I turned around to see out the back window.

In the distance, a tiny set of headlights broke out of a pack of slower cars. It was gaining ground.

“Shit,” Mezzasalma snarled.

My heart leapt in my chest.

Adriano?!

But that was impossible

…wasn’t it?

Adriano

The directions from the helicopter had done the trick; we were within sight of the Rolls Royce.

Not that it did us any good, other than to follow them wherever they were headed.

The Rolls was probably bulletproofed, just like our Mercedes

But even if it wasn’t, I couldn’t risk taking a shot that might hit Bianca.

And I couldn’t try to shoot out a tire. At the speed we were going, the car might flip.

Massimo knew it, too, which is why he didn’t badger me about shooting them.

Instead he asked, “What do you want me to do?”

“Get closer,” I growled.

Just let her be okay, God please just let her be okay

Bianca

I looked in the rearview mirror, the side mirror, even turned around in my seat to see if I could tell who was driving the car behind us

But it was impossible with those bright headlights shining at us.

The sandy-haired man was preoccupied with our pursuers and had stopped holding his gun to my head.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked Mezzasalma.

“How many shots do you have?”

“One. So it’s either the helicopter or the car.”

That made no sense

He only had one bullet?

Mezzasalma pushed a button, and the sunroof over our heads retracted.

Air ripped into the car at hurricane speeds, blowing my hair around like feathers in a windstorm.

“See if you can shoot the tires out first,” Mezzasalma shouted over the roar of the wind.

The sandy-haired man nodded and grabbed an Uzi from the floor of the car.

Then he crawled up onto the center console between me and Mezzasalma and poked his upper body out of the sunroof.

Bianca

I heard the chatter of the Uzi over the roaring wind and I shrieked.

The Mercedes wasn’t deterred, though.

In fact, it came closer.

Suddenly there was a click as the Uzi ran out of bullets.

At that precise moment, the Mercedes drove right up behind us

Close enough that the headlights were suddenly blocked by the rear of our car.

Without the lights blinding me, I could see the outline of the black car perfectly

And a figure emerging from the passenger window, his upper body hanging out into the wind.

Adriano.

I could see his face in the red glow of our tail lights.

My heart soared and I nearly cried out with joy.

He’s alive!

I figured the bulky figure behind the wheel must be Massimo.

I couldn’t believe it

They’re going to save me!

The sandy-haired man dropped down from the sunroof and back inside the car. “SHIT!”

A split-second later, muzzle flashes erupted from the gun in Adriano’s hand.

None of them struck the car

And I realized he must have been shooting at the sandy-haired man.

“Hold on,” Mezzasalma snarled

And tapped the brakes.

Our car slowed and the Mercedes rammed into us.

Adriano snapped forward like a rag doll, though he didn’t fall out of the window.

The Mercedes immediately slowed down and backed off.

Mezzasalma grinned, his cold white eye glinting.

“I’ve decided,” he shouted over the wind at the sandy-haired man. “Take out the car.”