The Dancer and the Don | ✔️

Chapter 19

Sorry for the long wait!! I've been working quite a bit...have to save up for more Kpop concerts. When I started this chapter I had an exact idea of what I wanted to write, but it kind of spiraled away from me and that's why it ends the way it does. This just goes to show that I have no control over my characters.

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"Fran, baby, you have to see it from my point of view," Tony insisted.

Michael, Donovan, and Jim had scurried away a few minutes ago. Remnants Francesca's breakfast lay on plates in the middle of the table as she rubbed her aching head. Why did these conversations have to happen in the morning?

"There has to be another way, Tony, haven't you tried thinking of anything else?" She grumbled. At least she had eaten breakfast before this kind of talking started. She was starting to grow nauseous, though, and hoped her breakfast wouldn't come back up.

"Look at it this way, Fran. If what my family did was legal, wouldn't I have told you about it when we met? The reason I didn't tell you was because what we do isn't legal or necessarily moral," Tony huffed. Fran realized the truth behind his words as she ran both hands through her hair.

They caught onto knots fairly quickly, leaving her hands stuck in her hair until she yanked them out with a wince. Tony sighed and reached for his wife. His hands carefully made their way into the knots and Fran relaxed. Just a minute later her hair was untangled and Tony was stroking his wife's heads softly.

"I can't just let you go kill people, Tony, and I don't know what to do about that," she whispered. Fran's eyes burned with unshed tears. Tony's jaw clenched. He really didn't want to put his wife through this, but if she was willing to stay he needed to make this as easy as possible for her.

"I know you don't trust me, Fran, but I'm not going to tell you when we need to...eliminate people," he said. Fran winced at the word choice, but finally looked up and made eye contact with her husband.

Was that the only way out of this situation? The amount of love Francesca had for Tony wasn't able to be expressed with words, pictures, or even actions. She had never felt this type of love for someone and she really didn't know what to do.

"I-I don't know, Tony, this is all too much to handle." Her brain was having a war so intense she could feel her fingers begin to shake. It was as if she could feel her warring thoughts unsheathing their swords and wreaking havoc on her brain.

"I've got to go talk to my men, Fran, we don't have much time to prepare for tonight. I'll come talk with you before I leave, alright?"

"Why can't you just give the orders from here?" She questioned. Tony sighed and took one of her hands in his own. Fran is terrified that he'll walk out the front door and never come back.

"Because they would lose trust and faith in me, Fran. It would look like I was sending them on a suicide mission," he answered. Francesca shivered and felt tears fill her eyes. "Don't cry, baby, I promise everything will be fine."

"If you say so," Fran said, doubt filling her mind. It wasn't that she thought he wasn't strong enough to get back safely, she was worried about the people who would try to stop him from coming home.

"Nathan and Maran will stay with you. Nothing bad will happen, Fran, alright? I have to go." Tony left with a quick kiss to the side of her head and a whispered thanks for the food. She finally let the tears escape her eyes with a whimper as she began to clean the table. Sniffles and the clanking of silverware and plates were the only things to be heard in the room.

She sniffled loudly right before she heard footsteps enter the room and looked down at her feet to hide the tear stains. All the dishes were in the sink now, and she took her anger and sadness out on scrubbing the dishes as hard as she could. A hand wrapping itself around her forearm forced Fran to stop scrubbing immediately.