Mafia Returns

Chapter 2

I looked out the window, watching my family home as we pulled away. I had no idea where we were going or who I was going with. The only thing that I knew about my future husband was that his name was Mr. Cullen, which, in my opinion was too formal for someone you were supposed to marry.

Mr. Cullen hadn't even bothered introducing me to his men when we got in his car. He had made no effort to make me feel more comfortable or put me at ease. I had already decided that I hated him.

"Give me your purse," he ordered, breaking the silence.

I clutched my purse to my chest and glared at him. "No." I didn't want him looking through my things. They were just that, my things, not his and I didn't want him touching them.

He didn't listen to my protests. He grabbed my purse and pried it from my hands. When I tried to grab it back, he held it out of my reach, like it was some sort of game.

"It's mine, give it back!" I demanded. "You have no right to go touch my things."

He acted as if I hadn't even spoken. He opened my bag and began to look through it, pulling out my gun. "Marcus, here," he said, tossing it to the man in the passenger seat, who also happened to be the man who saw me climb out the window.

"You have no right to take that," I protested. "That's mine. I need it for protection."

"I'll provide you with all the protection you could ever need Isabella, but I will give it back to you when I feel that I can trust you not to try and use it on me." I shook my head at his suggestion. I would never have used it on him… I don't think, maybe… if he pissed me off.

He pulled out my cell next. He didn't even bat an eyelid as he lowered the window and tossed it out onto the road.

"Are you out of your fucking mind!?" I yelled, looking out the back window, just in time to see a car drive over the phone and crush it.

"I'll get you another one when we get to Detroit."

"I don't want another one. I wanted that one. It had all my contacts in it, my pictures, and my memories."

"You're starting a new life, Isabella, you won't need those contacts."

"Yeah!? What about the pictures?"

He never answered. He took out my credit cards next and started snapping them in his hands. I grabbed his arm, trying to stop him, but he managed to somehow hold me out the way with his elbow.

"I hate you," I sobbed. "Did you force my father to make me marry you just so you could destroy my life?"

"I never forced anyone into anything, Isabella, and I am doing this for your own protection. You need to leave your old life behind. You'll be provided with new cards once we get home."

"I don't have a home!" I spat.

"I'm sorry that you feel that way."

When he was done with my purse, he offered it back to me. I clung onto it as I looked out the window, silently crying for the life that I used to have.

We arrived at the airport twenty minutes later. A private jet was sitting on the tarmac waiting for us. Mr. Cullen said nothing as he got out of the car and waited by the door for me to join him. I climbed out and quietly followed him into the aircraft, his two men bringing up the rear.