Falling for The Don: An Arranged Mariage Mafia Romance by Fiona Stone

Author:Fiona Stone [Stone, Fiona]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2023-06-02T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Mila

We’re just sitting down to watch the movie when the first strike of lightning flares outside. Maxim jumps and I take his hand in my mind. “It’s okay,” I whisper.

The opening credits begin rolling, and Leandro comes back from watching the flailing trees. “This was my favorite as a kid. The best. You’re On Your Own Amigo. It was my favorite Spaghetti Western to watch with my Grandpa—”

Another lightning strike snaps above us, and thunder rolls heavily. The house rumbles, and Maxim screams this time. The wind rushes down the chimney and gutters the fire.

“It’s okay,” Leandro says. He’s been working as hard as he can to redeem himself with Maxim.

The TV flickers.

Another lightning strike, and then the TV is off.

Everything is.

“Power out,” Leandro says, rising. “This is proper Maine weather now.” He’s grinning and excited.

But I’m not. “Maxim doesn’t like the dark,” I say.

“I can hear you,” Maxim says.

“But that’s okay,” Leandro says, moving to the kitchen. “We can use the candles and flashlights.” He opens a cupboard under the sink and finds an empty drawer. “No candles.” He reaches for the flashlight and holds it up like a trophy. “Right, well, no candles but we’ve got the torch.” He clicks it on, and the thing doesn’t work. “I suppose that makes sense. It probably hasn’t been switched on in years.” He laughs. “Not a problem, down to the basement.”

The biggest strike yet crackles above, and the house rolls with the sounds of crushed balls of foil tinkling along the roof.

“It’s hailing too,” Leandro says, pointing up at the skylight with its flickering ticks of ice.

Maxim and I are still trapped on the couch, as our refuge of safety. “What should we do then if there are no candles and no torch?” I ask. I’m trying to figure out how to save Maxim from having a horror filled night.

“No worries at all,” Leandro says, heading to the pantry door. “I’ll go into the basement and get out the kerosene lamps. I know Gramps had ‘em as the triple backup.”

Maxim and I join Leandro in the kitchen, and the skylights tap and whisper above us. The hail is bouncing and the thunder rumbles as the clouds roll with flashes and darkening grays. Leandro opens a trapdoor just in front of the pantry door. It’s dark and ominous. Immediately, the smell of damp earth arrives and I clamp my nose. Not only does blood make me squeamish, but so do basements that are moist and—

I stop myself from gagging.

“You guys coming?” Leandro asks with a smile, like this is some game.

“You’re on your own amigo,” Maxim says.

Leandro laughs and descends into the basement shaking his head. The skylights offer some light for the basement room and the lightning flashing occasionally illuminates the steps and brick wall.

It sends a shiver down my spine. The faintest memory from my childhood stirs. A cruel prank played by my cousin pulls me into a different reality. The damp earth intensifies in my nose and I feel sick.

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