Her Safety

Chapter Eight

After our date at the shooting range, DeAngelo insisted on teaching me how to properly yield a gun. Instead of being my typical, whiny self, I decided to give in and just do it to make him happy. To our surprise, with a little guidance and instruction, I was pretty good at it. DeAngelo looked at me with pride.

"I got you something," He said one day after he took me out to our favorite restaurant for dinner.

"You always get me things," I whined. "You spoil me."

"This is more for me than for you, but it would make me really happy if you accept it." Once we pulled into my driveway, he set a box in my lap. I felt like all we did was go to dinner, open gifts and bicker like an old, married couple.

"Well, thank you." I smiled at him, curious to get into this one. I could only imagine what it was if he said it was more for him. Lingerie? No way, DeAngelo never talked about sex. He hadn't even kissed me yet. I knew he was just being a gentleman.

Sitting in front of me was a small hand gun. Leave it to Angelo.

"It's your very own," He grinned from ear to ear.

"Why thank you," I murmured nervously. I didn't know if I wanted a gun.

"It's for your protection, Nina." He turned towards me, grabbing my hand and looking me in the eye.

"I don't think I'll ever need it though, Ang. I'm a little nervous to carry it around or to even bring it into my house. What if my brothers get their hands on it?"

"Angelina," he leveled with me. "I know I don't talk about work very much, and for good reason. I don't need to involve you in that, but I do need to make sure you're always safe. And my work might bring around sketchy people."

"I don't understand what could be so dangerous about your job."

"I'm smart, babe. And for that, people hate me and people envy me. We're not just talking about your run-of-the-mill businessmen who go home in their BMW's and cheat on their wives. These are dangerous and reckless guys who want to bring me down, whichever way they can."

I stared blankly at the man I was engaged to. Did I really know him? I agreed to marry him, almost like I signed myself away with a pen and paper. I almost regretted my decision, and felt a pang in my chest. I was actually falling for this man. I fiddled with my fingers and he grabbed my hands and held them in his.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, but don't be scared of me. Please."

"I-I.." I breathed heavily, "I don't know what to say or think. Are you a gangster? Or—wait no. Are you in the mob?" I don't know why I never thought about it, but he did fit the mold quite well.

"No baby, I'm not a gangster. I wouldn't say I'm a mobster either, but I am involved with them, I can't lie to you."

"You can't just hand me a gun and spring this on me!" I suddenly panicked. Everything was perfect and he was ruining it.

"I'm not a murderer, I'm not a drug or human trafficker, but I am a wealthy businessman. I have an empire to my name and I am my father's son. And I'll be damned if I ever let anyone forget that. He came from nothing and gave me everything. All of that aside, all I want is to keep you safe, do you understand that?"

I ripped my hands out of his, "You could be lying to my face. I mean, you did wait months to tell me this little fact about yourself. I can't marry someone who's in the Mafia. It goes against everything I believe!"