Becoming the Street Boss - Hayley Faiman Page 0,62

lock, then I twist the doorknob and tug the door open. Salvatore doesn’t even look at me, with his head down, he pushes his way past me into the house.

Closing the door behind him, I don’t follow him into the living room. Instead, I watch and wait for what he’s going to say or do next, if he’s not one of Massimo’s friends. If he’s an enemy, I’m going to bolt as fast as my high heels will take me.

“Massimo was arrested this afternoon,” he announces as he sinks down into a chair.

I blink. “Why?” I ask, keeping my voice even.

My entire body is trembling and I’m seconds from my knees giving out and landing on the floor. I lean back against the door, placing my palms on the wood for leverage, but it’s no use, I’m still seconds from ending up on my ass.

“Racketeering and extortion,” he murmurs. “His appearance before the judge is set for first thing in the morning. I’ll be there at his side. It’s up to you if you would like to be as well. All they’ll do is state what his official charges are and if he’s going to stay in jail until his arraignment.”

“What do I do?” I whisper. “I don’t know what to do.” My voice rises with each word.

Salvatore stands, swiftly making his way toward me. Without a word, he gathers me in his arms, then he bends slightly and slides his arm beneath my knees before he carries me over to the couch.

“You’re going to sit down first of all,” he says, keeping his voice low and even.

He crouches down in front of me, his eyes finding mine. He searches my face, then as if he makes an internal decision, he nods.

“You’re going to be okay, Pippa.”

“Am I?”

His lips turn up into a small smirk. “Yeah. Now, the racketeering charge is concerning. That’s a thirty-year minimum sentence if he’s found guilty.”

My eyes widen and I lift my hand before my lips part and I let out a gasp. I’ll be almost fifty by the time he gets out if he serves the entire sentence. I don’t know if I can be married to a man who is going to spend half of our lives in jail.

“However,” Salvatore continues. “Extortion holds a much lower sentence, probably only a couple years and some kind of fine.”

Nodding, my eyes fill with tears at the thought of Massimo being gone for thirty years. What the hell am I going to do? That security that I thought he offered me, it’s now completely gone.

Vanished.

I’m alone, possibly for the foreseeable future. My heart starts to slam against my chest, my breathing becomes labored and shallow. Lifting my gaze to meet Salvatore’s, my eyes widen and I shake my head as I reach out, curling my fingers in his suit jacket lapels.

“What happens to me if he’s convicted of racketeering?” I hiss on a whisper.

He gives me a sad-looking smile, wrapping his hands around my wrists and shakes his head once. “You’ll be taken care of, Pippa. Wives are always taken care of,” he says, stressing the word wives.

And if I don’t want to be a wife, alone for thirty years? I want to ask him that, but I know without a doubt that it is the wrong question. Asking that would be detrimental to my safety, it would show that I’m not one hundred percent loyal to Massimo and the famiglia.

“Okay,” I whisper. Licking my lips, I focus on his gaze, shoving the rest of my questions and concerns away, for now. “What do I do now?”

Salvatore smiles, it’s genuine and although it doesn’t reach his eyes, it’s kind. This is another man who has a past of heartache behind him.

“I’ll be by at seven to pick you up,” he offers, his voice gentle.

“What do I do until then?”

He tilts his head to the side, confused by my question. But honestly, since marrying Massimo, I haven’t been alone at night.

I don’t have a car, not that I really need one, but I don’t have any money other than what he handed me to go shopping. I don’t have access to anything of his. I am completely at the famiglia’s mercy and it terrifies me.

Completely fucking terrifies me.

Chapter Twenty

MASSIMO

I didn’t sleep for shit, which isn’t surprising. I haven’t spent a night in jail since I was a punk-assed teenager. It wasn’t much different this time than it was the last.

Dressed in my same suit, I attempt to

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