I'm getting sad because I'm losing the motivation to keep writing this book :( but I want to finish it for you guys! I hope you're liking it so far! Please let me know what you think.
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Fran was very, very weak the next day.
Though she was upset with her husband for what he'd done to her, she was really glad they had talked out their problems...sort of. She was just happy they were both willing to try. This small amount of happiness towered over the cloud of sorrow she had been living in since the shooting, so she woke up her husband in a special way this morning.
She wasn't ready to have sex with him, so a kiss would have to do. Tony was usually a light sleeper so Fran figured she could kiss him lightly then begin to get ready for her day.
Tony had other plans.
Apparently he had been awake the entire time Fran was trying to figure out what she wanted to do. His lips met hers with full force when she bent down to kiss him, his hands cradling the back of her head. Their lips moved together softly, then a little harder when Fran relaxed her body atop Tony's. He grinned into the kiss.
"I love you," he whispered between kisses. That caused Fran to grin as well, and the kiss turned into a sloppy make out session. Her body shifted on top of his and he groaned, earning yet another smile from Fran.
She missed this.
"Sir?" Came Tate's voice along with a knock at their bedroom door. Tony and Francesca froze in the middle of a kiss until Fran pulled back and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Tony rested his hands on her thighs and sighed loudly.
"Yes, Tate?" He said back loudly. They heard Tate clear his throat.
"I just heard from my informant, the shipment's been moved up," he responded. Tony sat up and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Fran tried to crawl off of his lap but he tightened his grip and kept her there. She gave up after a few seconds and rested her head on his shoulder.
"Moved up? To when?" Tony questioned.
"Tonight," Tate answered. Fran heard Tony release an unfamiliar growl before looking at her with a small smile.
"Thank you, Tate," Tony said, dismissing the man outside their bedroom door. "We're going to have a busy day, Fran," he rubbed his pointer finger across her cheek and swept the hair out of her face, "let's get ready, hm?"
Hopes of having a relaxing morning full of more difficult conversations destroyed, Fran followed her husband to their bathroom. They stood side by side as they brushed their teeth and it was so, so difficult to hold back a smile when Tony watched his wife's eyes close while her hand sluggishly rubbed the tooth brush back and forth.
"Baby," he started with a grin, "wake up and finish." Fran's glare was ice cold and quickly wiped the grin off of Tony's face. She could get crabby when she didn't get what she wanted. They finished in the bathroom and both walked to the closet to pick out clothes for the day. Tony picked out simple black slacks and a white button down shirt and began to change. Fran sighed loudly, catching the attention of her husband.
She was pouting.
He finished pulling on his pants, pulled off his shirt from the night before, then wrapped his arms around his wife from behind. Fran sighed again.
"What do you need, Fran?" He asked quietly.
"You tell me, Tony. You're wearing nice pants and a nice shirt, but I really don't want to be walking around in a dress and heels all day. Will they care?" She asked honestly. Fran turned around in his grip to stare at him as he narrowed his eyes in confusion.
"Will who care?" Tony wondered aloud. She shrugged in his arms.
"Your...family," she expressed. Fran didn't say the word with distaste, but with a weird tone of voice. Tony raised his eyebrows. "I didn't mean to be rude, Tony, I'm just slightly uncomfortable with the word." He nodded in response.
"You'll get used to it in no time," he said with a small, thankful smile. Tony was happy she was trying. "And they won't care what you wear," he assured. She gave him another icy glare.
"I care, Tony. What kind of impression should I make on them?" Fran contemplated. She pulled herself out of her husband's arms and walked further into the closet.
"You make an unforgettable impression on anyone who sees you, Fran," he whispered. She blushed but didn't turn to face him. Why was this taking her so long? She wasn't usually worried about clothes. "Just wear what you'd like."
Fran glared at him again. He gulped.
Wrong answer.
"I think you would look cute in these, baby," Tony pulled a pair of light blue jeans off of one of the shelves. She grabbed them from his hands hurriedly and turned to the clothes hanging up next to the shelves.
"I can handle it from here, Tony. Thank you," Fran claimed. Her eyes never left the clothing. "Go make us breakfast, please. We can talk more at the table."
"Yes ma'am," Tony affirmed. He kissed her on the cheek and scurried to do her bidding. Francesca ended up pulling a soft, dark blue blouse from her rack of clothing. It looked nice without looking fancy, and could be worn for long periods of time. She smiled, happy with her choice.
After changing quickly and applying some makeup Fran rushed downstairs and found Tony making pancakes. Without saying a word she opened the fridge and pulled out the eggs to make an omelet as well. She kissed Tony on the cheek as she walked by, causing the large Italian man to blush. Fran giggled.
Tony was always busy before the shooting happened, and she was glad he was making an effort with her this time around.
Tate cleared his throat from the doorway, the quiet man surprising both Tony and Francesca.
"Yes, Tate?" Tony questioned. He turned his back on the griddle and folded his arms over his chest. Tate cleared his throat again.
"We're ready for the meeting, sir," he offered. Tony sighed and turned to his wife. She pushed him away from the pancake griddle to pull a slightly burnt pancake off of it and put it on a plate. She pushed it to Tony's chest.
"What time is the shipment tonight, Tate?" Fran asked boldly. Both Tony and Tate turned to her in surprise before Tate turned to Tony to silently ask permission.
"Francesca will know everything, Tate. Speak freely in front of her from now on," Tony asserted. Tate nodded quickly and lowered his gaze.
"The shipment is at six o'clock," Tate muttered, "We'll need to be ready by five."
"Destituito," Tony said fluently. Tate left the room and Fran turned to her husband.
"What does that mean?" She questioned.
"Dismissed," he answered with a shrug. He turned to her, and Fran already knew what he was going to ask. She shook her head.
"No, Tony, we're not skipping breakfast. They can either wait or join us, it's up to you. We have plenty of time until the shipment," Fran declared. Tony was slightly take aback at the power her voice held. He smiled.
"I'll see if they want to join," Tony said with a smile. He kissed her on the cheek before exiting the room. Fran let a breathe out that she didn't know she'd been holding. She assumed the men that were coming were the same men she had met a few days ago...and they didn't seem to like her.
Maybe food would make them feel better about her. Gross, she thought to herself, since when had she cared so much about what people thought about her?
Tony quietly entered the kitchen and began to help her make more omelets. They cooked I silence until Fran sighed loudly.
"They make me nervous, Tony. And what are we supposed to do about the shipment? What if someone gets hurt? What if you—"
"I won't get hurt, baby," he assured. Tony took his hands off of the risk he was using to stir the eggs and turned to face her. "You won't be getting hurt either, because you'll be staying here with Nathan and Maran. Alright?"
To be honest, Francesca wanted no part of the shipment. She was all too happy to sit this one out. Though she was glad she wasn't going, she didn't want to sit home and worry. It was the lesser of the two evils, so she took her chance.
"Alright, Tony. But we're video chatting when you're on your way back," she insisted. Tony, who had turned back to the eggs, furrowed his brow in confusion.
"Video chatting? Why?" He asked.
"We could just call, but I don't trust you to tell me if you're injured." Tony grinned. She was correct, he wouldn't tell her if he was injured. Tony didn't want her to worry.
"Alright, baby, we'll video chat when we've finished with the shipment," he declared. Fran giggled at the announcer voice he had started using randomly.
"Are you done with the eggs? I think we've got enough pancakes to fee them," Francesca muttered. Tony nodded and together they pulled both foods onto large plates and made their way into the dining room.
The men's eyes lit up in surprise, then in hunger. Fran fought the urge to grin.
"Let me go get some more plates and toppings," she suggested. Fran didn't want them to start talking without her, so she rushed to the cabinets, then the fridge, then back to the table. The men were sitting quietly, staring at the food.
"Go ahead," she murmured softly. The men quickly dug into the food placed on the table. Tony held up a hand and all of them froze, some plates being held in the air. Their excitement level lowered.
"She eats first," Tony demanded. He picked up her plate and placed three pancakes and a heaping of eggs on it before handing the spoon to one of the men. As if a spell was broken, each man began to talk excitedly to once another as they piled their plates full of food. Tony also began to eat his food until Fran nudged him with her elbow.
"Introduce me, please. I don't even know their names."
Tony swallowed his food first. "This is Michael, Donovan, and Jim. They're my generals."
"Generals?" She questioned. Why were they given military titles?
"It's just an easy way of saying these men are the heads of several different branches of my family. They all report to me," Tony stated. "We usually only see each other maybe four times a year, but this situation is calling for dire measures."
"It's nice to meet you," she greeted the men. They nodded with food still in their mouths. Once they swallowed each man held out a hand for her to shake.
Michael was a tall man with broad shoulders. He was slightly thinner than her husband but looked much older. She guessed he was probably old enough to be her father.
Donovan was the most intimidating. His eyes were very black and Fran could only hold contact with them for so long. He had shaggy hair, but his clothes were nicer than the other mens'.
Jim look to be younger than Francesca, which surprised her quite a bit. He was wearing a nice suit and had his hair gelled back. She wondered what had landed him in this position.
"Thank you for breakfast," Michael said. He sounded pleasant and Fran could picture getting along with the man very well.
Fran nodded and shoveled a bit of eggs into her mouth. She swallowed.
"What's going to happen with the shipment?" She wondered aloud. Donovan swallowed his food and clear his throat.
"We're planning on taking Jim's team and my team down to the dock and using Michael's team for backup," he replied.
Fran turned to her husband in confusion. "Then, where do you come in?"
"I'll just be making the orders and waiting to see if secondary backup is needed," he answered with a mouth full os syrupy pancakes. She grimaced and poked him in the side so hard he jumped. Tony glanced at her in apology.
"Alright, so...you'll just be damaging whatever it is their shipping?" Fran asked. Michael glanced at Tony before glancing at her.
She was really sick of everyone looking to her husband for permission.
"Say it to me, Michael, don't look at Tony," Fran snapped. Everyone's eyes widened but Tony just chuckled.
"We'll be going after a shipment of arms they have coming in tonight," he said, "all those arms will be ours." Michael had a smug grin on his face. Donovan and Jim both laughed, but Fran was unsure as to what was so funny.
Tony cleared his throat and the laughing ceased. "That's all we'll be doing, Fran."
"So no one will get hurt?" She contemplated. Tony shook his head and opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by laughter once again.
"Well 'course people will get hurt," Donovan said. They were all still chuckling. "We can't get the arms when their people are guarding it."
Fran shivered and swallowed down the bile that had risen in her throat. "How can you be okay with that?" She whispered. The men widened their eyes at her pale face and Tony was quick to dismiss them.
"You'll need to figure out something else," she demanded, "because killing people like that will end this marriage. Now."
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Thank you for reading!