Over Troubled Water (BWWM)

Chapter Two

Chapter 2

Three Years Ago

"Bella, I'm speaking to you!"

"I-I'm sorry, what did you ask me?" I stuttered distracted by his chocolate eyes. The chocolate eyes that once captivated me. The chocolate eyes that I could stare into forever.

"I asked you what you do for a living?"

"Oh I-I work at a Supermarket." I graduated with a majored in Biology but with no jobs around and student loans piling up I had to do something. Michael parked the car, and pulled out his phone and was yelling at someone in Italian. "Jenny, what's the name of your job?"

"It's called EZ Supermarket." Something told me not to tell him, but my conscience has been out of whack since I met Michael yesterday at Starbucks. He ended the conversation, looked at me intently and said "You don't need to work anymore."

"M-Michael what does that even mean?"

"It means no girl of mine is working at some skeezy ass Supermarket."

"Oh hell no! I need that job, I have loans and bills to pay. My mother didn't raise a fool. So call whoever you were just talking to and get my goddamn job back, right now!" I didn't stutter that time. Michael turned his head towards me and squinted his eyes. I knew then I'd messed up.

"Bella you've clearly lost your mind. Even my mother doesn't speak to me like that. Now move you pretty ass out of my car because the valet is waiting." He smirked, hit the button on my seat belt, opened his door and walked in the restaurant. I walked into the Italian restaurant, and stared at everything except for what was in front of me, when I walked into a wall, or should I say Michael. He turned around unfazed and diverted his attention to the receptionist. "Reservation for Mancini"

We were directed to our seats, I ordered water and Michael order some fancy white wine that probably cost more than two months of my rent. I glanced at the menu and everything was in Italian even the damn description, before I could panic, Michael ordered for me. Everyone's eyes were on us, when I say us I mean the man in front of me. The whole state of New York knew what he did for a living and knew not to cross him. Something in me hoped and prayed that I said all the right things so he wouldn't hurt me.

"So Bella tell me about yourself." Dinner surprisingly went smoothly and I found myself laughing at his jokes and becoming much more open. I was so happy then.

Present

"Jennifer, I'm speaking to you! We need to talk."

"I'm sorry Michael what did you say?"

"I said pack your bags, we're going to Florence for a week." He walked past me into the kitchen fixing himself a plate. I followed past him and poured him some orange juice. Going to Florence didn't mean relaxation and a week from a crying baby, but boring mafia meetings that the Don's wife had to sit in on. From what I was told it makes him look weak when his wife isn't by his side. I just have to sit there and look pretty. "When do we leave?"

"Tonight, my aunt is watching the kids." He said as he devoured breakfast, you could say a lot about me but you can't say I couldn't cook. We sat in awkward silence, until we heard feet pattering on the floor.

"Mama I'm hungwy."

Michael ate all the food so I had to make more. I placed Mikey on my hips and walked past Michael to put him in the chair. Mikey always cowered away from his father. He was always afraid he'd yell or hurt him. Michael had a tough exterior but he loved his children. "You'll have to wait Mikey while I make some more. Ok?"

"No Mama, I want my food now!" And he began to cry. I could see Michael tense. I knew what that meant. He slammed his hand on the dining room table and yelled at Mikey.

"Stop crying it's weak!" He slammed his plate into the sink. "Jennifer, I'm exhausted I don't want to come home to him crying, like a baby."

"He is a baby Michael." I said as calmly as possible.

"If he is going to take my place one day, you need to stop babying him all the time, that how my father raised me." He said brushing past me.

"Is that why you act like that?" He stopped from a moment, sighed, and walked upstairs to our room.