Married To The Mafia...?

“And you didn’t leave the house?”

“No!” My eyes were growing tired, my shoulders sore with built up tension. “I’ve been telling you the same thing for hours, Mason came, he held a gun to me and my husband’s and threatened us. He would have killed us if Ethan’s father and brother hadn’t turned up when they did. Ethan and I didn’t leave the house, Antonio and Marcus walked out with him.”

“And you say he left your residence alive then?”

“Yes.” I rolled my eyes, my body weak with exhaustion. “What reason would I have to kill him.”

“Mrs Radev, you have more motive than most. Wasn’t Mason your estranged brother? Didn’t he coax your own father into kidnapping and blackmailing your then fiancé, now husband? Isn’t it true that your father was killed by Mason and his men when he double crossed them, killing him at your own wedding reception? Not enough motives for you? Perhaps the fact that the record shows you shot Mason in the leg.”

“I want my lawyer.”

A second detective dressed smartly in blue suit attire walked into the room, muttering something softly into the ear of my interrogator before walking back through the heavy set door from which he came.

“A lawyer won’t be necessary Amelia. Your husbands about to be charged, he made a full confession.”

“What?!” I stood up, my voice raging and chair being thrown back with the movement. “He’s lying, he has an alibi. I was with him the entire night, he couldn’t have.”

“Then perhaps he’s protecting someone. Wouldn’t happen to know who? A family member maybe.”

“I don’t know.” I slumped back into my chair, my voice cracking and tears threatening to spill. I had no idea what Ethan was playing at, or if he had in fact made a confession at all. For all I knew the detectives could have been creative a ploy to dissect information from my stressed out brain.

“Well given that you just requested your lawyer we can’t give you an explanation. And seeing as your husband just took credit for a murder, you’re free to go Mrs Radev. Have a lovely night.”
Sniffing back the sudden bomb shell sprung upon me, legs shaking with shock I stood up from the sterile table and followed slowly as the officer led the way back through seemingly endless hallways and back to the reception. Timidly I signed paperwork and re-collected the few things I’d had with me at the arrest. My hands trembling and stomach summersaulting as a room to the right opened, a familiar tall figure walking out.

“Ethan?” My mouth my dry, eyes wide as he stalked slowly over the counter his hand scribbling over white sheets and fingers gathering his belonging.

He didn’t say anything as he turned slowly toward me, instead gathering my elbow within his hand and leading the way out into the now dark sky.

“Ethan.” I stared up at his slightly unsure, his expression unreadable.
Again he ignored me.

“Ethan.” My voice cracked slightly, my arm tore away from his grasp once our shoes hit the pavement and our bodies were a few paces away from the station. I couldn’t grasp why they’d released him. The officer had said he made a full confession so shouldn’t he then be locked in a small cell?

“We need to get to the hotel.” His eyes were yet to actually look at me, his arms guiding me into a car parked on the curb.

“What’s going on?” I raised my voice slightly as he climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine, “They told me you confessed-”

“Confessed to what? I didn’t do it.”

“I know that, obviously.”

“I already told you I’m out of all this shit Amelia, why would I confess to a murder that I didn’t commit? I swore I wouldn’t leave you again, and I meant it.”

“Then what-”

“It was a decoy. They’ve already figured it out, they’ve got the guy. It’s just a matter of finding him and bringing him in.”

“You mean it was-” My heart was racing at his quickly spoken words while the car sped toward our hotel.

“It wasn’t my father or Marcus.”

“Then who?”

“You tell me. Who’s the one person who stood by you? Who did absolutely anything and would do everything to make sure we were fine? Who else would risk everything to ensure our side stood strongest?”

Realisation made my entire anatomy drop, my lungs tightened and heart stopped for a mere moment. The world outside seems to blur away completely and suddenly I felt feint. “Emmanuel.”

“They kept asking about my associates, kept at me about people who worked for us. I realised what they were doing immediately and said nothing. I just hope we can get to him before they do.”

***

The white paper envelope was gripped tightly in Ethan’s right hand, his left gripping my own. My flats raced along behind him as red carpets sped under tow, white walls gleamed and changed from panelled doors to frosted glass. Ethan barged through the last door, the only occupant spinning on his heel at the sudden invasion of his privacy.

“Go.” My husband pushed the white envelope forward, his eyes pleading and demanding all in one, his hand tight around my own, my body etching closer to his warmth.

“Ethan, I can’t. They’ll be expecting it.”

“They’ll be expecting Emmanuel to leave. Nobody will be expecting Harry Gordon of skipping the
country.”

“It’ll never work.” Emmanuel watched me carefully as I stood begging with my husband, “They’ll have my photos, all my information.”

“What do you have to lose?” Ethan spoke up suddenly, his voice tipping over. “If you get out, you’re free. You get caught, you’re in the same situation as now.”

“And if you both get caught?”

“Then we’ll be guilty of helping our most loyal and best friend.” I dropped Ethan’s hand as I stepped closer to Emmanuel, my hand reaching for him. “Please, you did this for us. Let us help you.”

“Fine.”

It took five seconds for me to place a kiss upon Emmanuel’s cheek, my arms drape around his shoulders tightly with tears in my eyes. For Ethan to shake his hand and quash him in a farewell hug. It took five minutes for Emmanuel to grasp the tickets under Harry Gordon and disappear through the doors. I felt Ethan’s arms fit securely around my waist, his head resting on top of mine as we stood in pure absolute silence. I closed my eyes and breathed out, desperately praying that Emmanuel would make it out of the country.

Though a gut feeling of another kind nagged somewhere in the back of my brain and momentarily stole my energy away from the fleeing murderer. Bringing the dread and nervous realisation that sooner rather than later I was going to have to confide something within my husband. Something to change our lives completely.