The Dancer and the Don | ✔️

Chapter 14

Thank you guys so much for reading! I know I say this every chapter, but I hope you enjoy this update! I'm trying to get them out as often as I can while I'm away at school, but bear with me if some chapters take a long time to come out! 

This is a short one, but I really liked how I ended it so we'll see where it goes!

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"What did you think?"

It was a question Tony should already know the answer to.

They were on the way home, and the car had been silent for the majority of the way there until Tony spoke up. To Fran it was a rather stupid question, but she realized she may not have been as expressive as she usually was. Tony was having a hard time reading her.

"I was going to wait until we got home to question you, but we could start now if you'd like?" She asked in a sarcastic tone. Tony flinched back, glanced at Nathan, then shook his head. He turned in his seat to face the front again. Fran released the breath she'd been holding and closed her eyes, trying to relax.

When they arrived home Fran ignored Maran and Tate pulling in behind them and quickly walked inside. She tried to avoid her feet stomping, but couldn't help the anger that took over.

"Let's go to our room, Fran," Tony suggested. Fran shook her head and plopped down on the couch.

"No. We'll do it here. Are they gone?"

"They're as gone as they can be, Fran," he answered. His wife glared at him. "Tate, Nathan, and Maran are still in the house but can't hear us." Tony knew it was unlikely for her to believe anything he was saying.. She gave him a simple nod, then wrapped her arms around herself. Tony's entire body tensed. He just wanted to cuddle her and make all the problems he'd caused go away.

"What's your real name?" Fran began her questioning with a question that was easy and difficult to answer at the same time.

"Antonio Romero," Tony responded with a wince. He could only watch as Fran let out a humorless chuckle when a tear rolled down her face.

"I don't know why I'm crying, this isn't a surprise to me," she muttered. His eyebrows raised in surprise.

"How did you know?" He asked. Fran, who had turned around so she didn't have to look at the stranger in her house, whirled around to face him with one of the strongest glares he'd ever seen.

"I didn't know, Tony. I wasn't surprised that you'd lied to me about something so simple. If I had known, I wouldn't have kept it a secret." Her words stung like hundreds of needles piercing his skin.

Tony stood in silence and waited for her next question. He wasn't in control of this situation, and while he didn't like it he was in no place to complain. He would just have to sit here and take whatever his wife was going to throw at him, either mentally or physically.

"Where are you from?" Fran demanded. Whatever patience she had was already wearing thin.

"Milan," he responded quickly. He didn't even want to see her reaction.

"Wait—wait, Milan? Milan, Italy?" Fran bellowed. Tony winced at just how loud she got, wondering if she was able to be heard through the entire house.

"Yes, Fran, Italy. Many of my family members are from Italy as well." The room went silent after Tony's answer. For some reason, silence was scaring him more than her yelling was. If she was yelling, at least he would know how mad she was. He was sure he could fix mad. Tony didn't think he could fix their marriage if Fran just gave up completely.

"Your business," she noted, "is that a cover for you?"

"In a way, yes," he responded. He waited for another question.

"Explain," Fran demanded. He wanted them to sit at the dining table and talk calmly there. It seemed like if she was sitting, there was a less likely chance for her to run out of the room or out of the house.

"It's completely legal," he spoke, "It started legally, and it will continue to be legal."

"Then why did you phrase your answer like that?" She wondered aloud.

"Because I technically do use it as a cover. Many see me as a great business man, and they'd never question or accuse me of anything. It's a great alibi." Tony couldn't help but wince at his word choice.

Fran's knees grew weak, but she grabbed the corner of the table before she was able to fall. Tony jumped forward, ready to catch her, only stepping back when she sent him another glare. He clenched both his fists and his jaw. He just wanted to help her, but at the same time, he understood why he couldn't.

This was one of the most frustrating experiences he'd ever had.

"Any other questions?" He asked tentatively. He wanted her to get all of her questions out, but he could see the answers were taking a toll on her. "I think we should go to bed now."

"No," she stated, "I want them all answered now. I've only got a few more anyway."

"At least sit down," Tony murmured. He was just trying to help her and right now it looked like she was going to pass out. Was she having an attack and not telling him?

Fran sat down in a chair and clenched her fists. Her husband was being honest for once, but what was she supposed to do with this information? Her brain was screaming at her to run away, yet her heart was saying something different.

"Are your parents really dead?"

The question stung but he couldn't blame her for doubting everything he had ever told her. He rubbed the back of his head and looked at the floor.

"Yes, Fran. They're really dead. They were killed in a shootout when I was fourteen," he answered in a grim tone. Fran blanched, her face paling more than it already was. He was so young, he didn't deserve that even if they were the head of the mafia and had dragged him into this unwillingly.

A sob flew past her lips without her permission. It echoed slightly throughout the dining room and caused Tony's head to fly up with his eyes widened. He whispered her name before giving up on any sort of resisting touching her and rushed to her side. When he got to her and wrapped her in his arms she was shaking to a worrying extent.

"Screw this," he said hastily. Tony lifted her out of her seat and carried her to their room. He set her on the bed then climbed in himself and wrapped himself around her. "Sh, Fran, I'm right here."

"That's why!" She shrieked, tugging and pulling until she wasn't touching her husband anymore. This man was a complete stranger, and she no longer felt safe around him. He wasn't the man she had married. "You're the reason I'm having this attack, so I'd like you to leave," Fran said in a much calmer tone than before.

"What?" Fran was in the middle of an attack, he couldn't leave her like this.

"You heard me, Tony, get out!" He scrambled from the bed when he heard the fear in her voice. He'd scared her? He knew she wouldn't like the answers to the questions she was asking, but not once did he think it would cause her fear.

"Can I call someone?" Tony's voice had never been that small when talking to anyone. He'd also never been as scared as he was in this moment. "I can't leave you alone, Fran, not while you're having an attack."

"But you already have," Fran wailed, "you left me alone years ago when you spoke your first lie."

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