D’Angelo 2: Mrs.
D’Angelo Livy stared at the ring, her mind clearly not understanding what she was seeing.
“Option one,” Antonio said, “you walk out of here, make it to the courthouse, and testify against me.” His voice remained terrifyingly calm.
“But before you can even say my name on that witness stand, your mother, is going to meet with a very terrible accident.” Livy’s face drained of all color.
“Option two.
You marry me.
We have a quiet, private ceremony right now with two witnesses, and your mother stays safe.” Livy stared at him in sheer disbelief, finding the whole demand completely absurd.
“You want to…
marry me?” “Don’t confuse things,” Antonio said.
He rose from his chair and slowly walked around the desk.
Livy instinctively stepped back, but there was nowhere to go.
He stopped right in front of her, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes.
Up close, he was even more intimidating, broad-shouldered and devastatingly handsome in a way that only made his cold ruthlessness harder to ignore.
“Once you’re my wife, spousal privilege applies.
You can’t be compelled to testify against me.” He said it as casually as if he were discussing the weather.
The day before her abduction…
Antonio was seated at this very office with his right-hand man, Alex, glancing through the file Alex had just dropped in front of him.
The intelligence confirmed exactly what they had suspected about his traitorous enforcer.
“I assume you know where he’s hiding,” Antonio asked, taking a slow sip of his drink while studying the man’s scarred face.
“Of course.
The shithole’s down in Ischan town, hiding out in some greasy joint,” Alex grumbled.
“I should have taken the son-of-a-bitch out myself when I had the chance.” “And deny me the pleasure?” Antonio murmured.
“Yeah, well, he’s been enjoying a damn good life for too long.” That was about to change.
Sighing, Antonio took another sip, skimming through the remaining pages.
The traitor would soon face his wrath.
“And the other item I asked you to look into?” When Alex hesitated, remaining stubbornly silent, Antonio slowly turned his head in his direction.
After a tense few seconds, Alex placed a second, thinner file into his hands.
“Are you certain you want to do this?” he asked, his jaw tight.
“I know it’s not my place to ask, but you know the Feds are likely expecting a move.
She is a federal witness, after all.
It’d be a hell of a lot easier to just put a bullet in her head.” Antonio didn’t answer.
Instead, he pulled a small, glossy photograph from the file.
In the image, Livy was talking with her mother, completely unaware her hideout had been discovered by the very man she was testifying against.
Antonio stared down at her face, his thumb tracing the edge of the paper in slow, measured circles.
In the present however, Livy’s eyes burned with anger, despite her fear.
“You animal.” He only shrugged and picked up the drink on the table.
Livy stared at the heavy gold ring, then she looked at the Don.
This man held her entire world in his hands right now.
She had spent months preparing to destroy him.
She had believed she would finally get her life back after this.
Instead, she was being forced to become Mrs.
D’Angelo.
Antonio took a slow sip from his glass, his dark eyes never leaving her face.
“You have two minutes to decide, Livy Reed,” he said calmly.
Her chest heaved as panic clawed at her throat.
Every instinct screamed at her to lunge across the desk and smash the glass against his jaw.
But then she saw her mother’s bright smile in her mind.
Eleanor Reed had spent eight months in hiding because of her.
If she chose the trial, she might put the Mafia Boss behind bars, but she could be signing her mother’s death warrant.
“You’re a monster,” she whispered.
Antonio’s expression remained unchanged.
”Time is running out, cara mia.” ”But I’m only twenty-four,” Livy protested.
“You’re like fifty.
How can I marry you?” “I’m fourty,” he corrected simply.
Livy clenched her fists, seeing no way out.
“If I do this, you stay the hell away from my mother.
If you harm her in any way, I swear to God, I will make you regret it.” A slow smirk touched Antonio’s lips.
He seemed almost amused by her threat.
“Smart choice.” He reached out and pressed a button on his desk.
The heavy office door opened almost immediately, and a large, muscular man stepped inside.
“Bring them in,” Antonio ordered.
A moment later, an official-looking judge entered, followed by a neatly dressed woman and a gentleman acting as witnesses.
Livy’s stomach twisted into a hard knot.
Every single detail had already been arranged before she even set foot in the building.
The Don hadn’t offered her a choice; he had simply built a cage with only one door.
Without a word, the woman stepped forward and gently draped a simple white robe over Livy’s shoulders.
The judge approached the desk, opened a leather-bound book, and looked up at Livy with a solemn, practiced expression.
”Do you, Livy Reed, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Livy’s throat tightened.
Was this really happening.
She turned to look at Antonio, who stood calmly beside her, as though they were completing an ordinary business transaction.
Her fingers trembled when she picked up the pen, and signed the marriage license with shaking hands.
Antonio signed his name immediately afterward.
“Then, by the authority vested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife.” Livy stared down at the ink drying beneath her name, her mind refusing to accept the reality of what had just occurred.
Barely a few hours ago, she had been a protected federal witness preparing to put Antonio D’Angelo behind bars for the rest of his life.
Now she was his wife.
Mrs.
D’Angelo.
It truly means a lot to me.