Twisted Wedding: A Fake Marriage Mafia Romance by B. B. Hamel

Author:B. B. Hamel [Hamel, B. B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-10-18T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

Casey

The only thing I learn from Adler’s little tirade is that I need to hide stuff like running into Tony Vetch.

Otherwise, he’ll lock me in the stupid apartment.

I spend a solid ten minutes stabbing the elevator call button, but nothing happens. I phone the front desk, but the patient and polite girl explains that she has strict orders not to let anyone up or down until Mr. Costa says so.

I then explain to her, equally politely, that I’m a fucking captive in my own apartment, at which point she hangs up.

It takes a special kind of person to survive a customer service job.

I am not that kind of person, which is why I rage and curse and basically throw a temper tantrum, which I’m aware is super childish and not going to help at all, but I’m so frustrated that I can’t stop myself.

It takes a solid hour before I’m calm enough to think.

Adler is overreacting. Tony was creepy and weird—definitely won’t deny that—but I didn’t get the sense that the man wanted to hurt me.

And yet Adler’s acting like I stumbled into a den of starving wolves.

I’m obviously missing something.

Like whatever Tony was talking about when he kept asking if I remembered, whatever that’s supposed to mean.

Unfortunately, I don’t, but there has to be a connection.

Between me and Tony, me and Adler, Tony and Adler, I don’t even know anymore. It’s this tight little circle, and it feels like everyone knows what’s going on except for me.

Eventually, I make dinner out of the meager offerings we have in the apartment. I pour myself some wine and sit on the balcony, staring out at Atlantic City, breathing in the brine-thick air, trying to figure out why Adler’s locking me away for the crime of taking a walk on the beach.

He’s clearly afraid.

Something’s going on with Tony Vetch—something about him running for office, about him closing off loose ends, whatever that means. I’ve heard rumors about Adler’s relationship with Tony, but nothing concrete.

They’re rivals. They used to be friends and business associates. Now they’re both trying to become the preeminent casino operator in AC, which means a certain level of friction.

Adler runs a crime family. Tony probably does too.

But what does any of that have to do with me?

I’m chasing myself in circles when I hear the elevator doors ding around ten that night. Adler steps into the apartment, spots me, and seems to relax somewhat, like he was expecting to find me missing and he’s relieved that I’m still here.

Not like I had anywhere to go.

He comes into the kitchen and pours himself a glass of wine. I watch him from where I’m standing near the balcony doorway. He drinks it down in two gulps, pours a second, and looks at me over the rim.

“How was your night?” he asks.

So casually, like nothing’s wrong.

“Well, I came up here, made some dinner, sat outside, drank some wine, and oh, yeah, my husband locked me in the apartment. Not a bad night.

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