listen

**Savannah**

I've never seen him so angry. I don't think ever, especially not directed at me.

"Why did you answer the phone?"

Not again. "Okay, Luciano. You're right, just let it go."

The glare he gives me makes me want to fade into the seat.

"Answer the question, Savannah."

"It rang. So I answered it."

He sighs, looks away. I watch the tic in his jaw, I feel his anger vibrating my way.

We were just laying bed, kissing, and then bam! This.

"The reason why I tell you not to answer my phone is because it's not safe. Many people call me. Most are not friends, or allies. Usually it's death threats, and all types other shit. You just happened to pick up Nic's call."

"It could've easily been the Russians, to boast about burning down my estate. It could've been the Mexican's bargaining for leverage against the Ferris."

He glares at me. "I run a Mob. Not a flower shop. You can't just pick up the phone. You don't understand. You are the golden goose. You are their eternal ticket. They have you, they have me."

He looks ahead. "I own Chicago, Savannah. I own Chicago and you own me. You think a rival family would give that up?"

"So you're saying that when I pick up they would recognize me?"

"They would locate you. That's the issue. If they hear you, the only woman who would ever pick up my phone, they know exactly where you are. GPS. It cut both ways. They can find me just as easily as Nic can."

He doesn't say anything, and in that silence, the reality of what he said sinks in.

"All by picking up the phone. One word, Savannah. Just one."

I open my mouth to apologize, but gravity pulls me down and reminds me this is more serious than an apology.

"I don't have time to explain everything to you," he whispers. "So please, just listen."

He doesn't speak to me for the rest of the day

He doesn't speak to me for the rest of the day. He's busy, I know that. I also know he's still angry, and he's right to be.

I don't like rules. I don't like restrictions. They choke me, it may sound stupid, or crazy, and maybe it is. But when you grow up imprisoned, you tend to hate anything reminiscent of chains.

All I had when I was growing up were rules. And the consequences were swift and brutal.

There were rules on everything. Even if I didn't know it was a rule I got punished for breaking it. She piled these rules on, the laws, commandments until I could do nothing. Nothing but accept.

Accept and obey.

That was what I was taught. That was what was beat into me every time I dared to sing. To smile. To speak without permission. To cry. To laugh. To move. Hell, I couldn't close my eyes unless she said I could.

Would you like rules? If that was your life? If rules stood for gas chambers, and torture. If rules stood for rape and beating, slavery.

Would you like them? If you had the chance would you follow the rules?

Would you like them? If you had the chance would you follow the rules?

Two days pass. Two days and I don't see him once. I didn't know I would miss him so much.

I scoff at that thought. Two things I despise: rules and men.

Especially violent ones.

I never thought there would be a day that I would miss a man who wasn't my Daddy. Definitely never thought I'd get married.

Yet, here I am. Up at four in the morning, stressing. Wondering where he is. If he's okay. He just got shot a month ago.

He's still not in tip top shape yet. And I don't know what's going on, but men are disappearing everyday. They go as some come back. Some don't.

Sometimes I hear one if the wives crying.

There's a war. People are getting killed. And I haven't seen my husband in two days.

I start to panic. This is bad. We moved. Apparently the burned our old Estate to the

ground, but Luciano had moved us all by the day of the wedding.

I know I can't trust anyone. No one but Luciano. I pace in the dark room, biting my lip so hard it bleeds. I cant call him.

What if he's in the middle of a shoot out and he dies talking to me?

I can't distract him, and I can't trust anyone. Not even the family. Our room is secure. The door is made of titanium, it looks from the inside. The only way to get into our room is a hidden key pad. Only finger prints can open it.

And, because my husband is a genuis, if the finger is severed, or the person is dead, it doesn't work.

Then there's a safe room in the back of of our room.

There's hidden weapon everywhere. And somewhere in here is a camera. There's three panic buttons, and a two year supply of food and water.

I can't leave this room. First, it's not safe. And second, it'll alert Luciano that the door has been opened. I just have to wait.