Disclaimer: I don't own anything! Oh gosh - I have to be careful here. Okay. I don't own anything associated with the Disney Channel, or anything related to any mafia. I am not making a profit out of this, just for the joy.
A/N: I'm a Frenchy. Hehehe. So my french should be near perfect - and nobody come and tell me I put the verbs in plural, because that's the 'formal' way of ever talking to higher authority. And my Italian.. Should be alright -ish. xD Now - We'll get a lot of violence in this - and obviously a lot of romance.. There's gonna be sexual implications, so nobody come and say, "oh hey, what they be doing? i dun't geddit." 'Kay? Okay. Great. we're on the same page.
Now. Up here, is gonna be a little guide, to hints, and all.
Whenever it says - MAFIA TRIVIA - That's your clue to looking up here for anything. SO.
MAFIA TRIVIA
Miley and Oliver's family, they're both Italy-based Mafias, who, by generations, moved gradually to the USA, first to New York, then, to L.A - Where there's more money.
Miley's family is from Sicily - Just outside of Italy, and Oliver's family Mafia La Cosa Nostra - Which is more American based, but with Italian history.
Miley's family is more, direct family, whilst Oliver's family, isn't solely just his family - But with others, in high ranks.
And their last names?
Oliver - Aorrigo - Originally - Arrigo, and it comes from the Italian root, Amerigo, which means work-power.
Miley - Ostvalto - Originally Osvaldo, and it comes from the word 'Oswald' which means God-Power and Rule.
I Married the Mafia
Summary: Two modern day mafia families who absolutely despise each other. What happens when the heirs to each family's throne fall in love with each other? Will the families approve or will it just cause more drama and fights? Moliver AU
"Noi arrivavamo, signore e signora."
Oliver broke apart from Miley, with whom he was pratically on top of, and pressed a last, lingering kiss on her lips. She blushed, her cheeks flushing adorably, and fanned herself lightly.
"Grazie," he said, handing over a few bills.
He took Miley's hand, and they slid out of of the taxi-cab. Miley planted her sunglasses firmly on her face, while they got their bags from the trunk of the cab.
"I thought we wouldn't make it," she stated, as she extracted the handle out of her luggage, and hoisting her havasack over her shoulders.
"Relax, my dear wife. We're just on time."
She whined, smacking his shoulder. "I told you not to call me that! I don't care how legal the certificate is, we are getting rid of it once we get home. We're not even legally adults!"
"When did you tell me that?"
"Oh." She shrugged. "I'm telling you now."
"Haha."
"Are we gonna check in or not?"
Sure enough, once on the plane, they found themselves sitting next to each other, in their respective first class seats. A bonus was that the seats were large enough for two people to share - Well.. They ignored the disgusted looks the air-stewardess was giving them, until Miley dragged Oliver all the way to the cramped stall at the back of the plane.
And so they occupied themselves for almost the rest of the flight.
--
Miley couldn't help but keep the smile on her face as she exited the plane. She whistled a soft tune to herself, using a hand to straighten her clothing and hair.
She donned her sunglasses, before swinging her backpack on.
By the time she finally retrieved her luggage, she was already a few minutes late - And LAX was always a bother to get out of.
When she stepped out of the air conditioned airport, hot California air hit her face, mingled with the fresh breeze, and the sound of cars whizzing past.
To her left, she saw Oliver stepping into his own limo, and he made a slight gesture towards her, winking over the top of his own sunglasses.
She rolled her eyes, starting towards a taxi. She hated the whole 'limo' thing - She didn't like to flaunt her money or anything that might give her away.
"Where to, Miss?" came a gruff, accented voice.
She frowned, thinking. She had to go home - But that would give it away..
She sighed.
She had no choice, and since she was already in the taxi...
She wrote down the address, and handed it to the taxi driver, whose eyes nearly popped straight out of his head.
Everybody knew of the esteemed mansion, how it loomed high over almost all other houses, and how dangerous it looked, with the guards outside and all.
She raised a delicate eyebrow, glaring pointedly through her lenses.
The ride was silent, and she heard the poor man's breathing accelerate and decelerate occasionally.
"H-here you-- are-- Miss--" She smiled, flashing her teeth, and handed him a generous amount of money before sliding out of the taxi. Before he could drive off, she placed a finely manicured hand on the lowered window.
"Forget," she said lowly.
The one word made the poor man quiver and nod frantically.
He sped off, and she couldn't help but chuckle.
"Mademoiselle!" came a delighted voice. She cringed at the sound.
"Monsieur Lacosté!" she said as cheerily as possible, offering an awkward hug to the manservant.
If she had the choice, she would let him go, but he knew too much, and that would be detrimental to the family.
He had a younger son, and was constantly trying to set him up with her - And quite frankly, she could be less fond of the jerk.. Jake Ryan was his name, and she hated him.
"Bonjour ma chérie! Comment allez-vous?"
"Bien, bien," she said distractedly. "Ou est mon père? Je besoin quelque mots avec lui."
His smile faltered a little but, he bowed, escorting her inside the mansion-like house. "Monsieur Roberto, est dans sa chambre."
She raised her eyebrows, seeing one part of their house blown off.
"Qu'est-ce que se passe ici?" she exclaimed, pointing a finger at the destroyed part of the house.
"Ah. Pendant que vous étiez en Italie, il y avait.. Une incidente.. Si tu me comprends."
She raised her eyebrows, her pace quickening as she marched into the house, brushing away the 'soldiers' stationned at the front door.
"Daddy!" she called urgently.
"Miley?"
She smiled widely, running to her father, hugging him tightly.
"Business good, baby girl?"
Her mouth curved, as she nodded. "Obviously. Now.. What happened?"
Her father sighed.
"Some rookie 'soldiers' from the other side decided to try something funny. And it was funny, actually. Seeing them blow themselves up."
She laughed lightly, but she couldn't help but wish all this was over - Like it never existed. Lately the arguments had escalated, almost becoming an underground war, and new 'recruits' were getting shot left, right, and center.
"So, what's up, bud?"
She smiled, holding up a finger for a moment of silence.
If there was anyone who could actually do that without getting a sock to the face, it was his own daughter, and her only.
She extracted documents from her carry-on, and presented them proudly to her father who took them.
"I got our assets back," she said excitedly.
"Sicily?"
"Yep." She didn't mention that she took a trip to Venice as well.
She hoped her father didn't suspect anything - She was rather giddy at the moment, but she was just feeling unnaturally happy at the moment.
"Nice job, Miley."
She beamed, as she leaned into her father's hug.
Monsieur Lacosté raised his eyebrows, watching the father and daughter, don and second in command, from the darkness.
Something was off - Nobody was usually that happy.
--
Miley sighed, lying back down in her bed. It felt great to be back home.. Ahh - Where nobody could bother her--
The door flew open, and she yelped, grabbing the first thing she could snatch off her bed-side table, which turned out to be a switchblade.
She rolled her eyes, seeing it was just her very annoying cousin.
"Heeeeeyyyy cuz!" She was not fazed at all by the potential death threat, with the blade.
She twitched.
"Lose the accent, or --"
"--Or what? You'll git somebody to smack meh silly?"
"Luanne," she groaned, burying her head into her pillow. "What are you doing here?"
"Just to check on you. Jet lag? Or did somebody have some fun with cute Italian boys?" her cousin questionned, dropping that annoying country-ish accent.
"Non ho avuto tempo," Miley grumbled against the pillow, lying through her teeth.
"I think you're lying. You had lots of time. I've seen you do business. All you have to do is flirt, and you get what you want."
She blushed. "What's your point?"
"I'm saying.. Well.. what does Miley Stewart do with all that free time on her hands? Possibly.. hanging out with a certain Aorrigo?"
Miley shot straight off her pillow, and was nose to nose with Luanne.
"What. Did. You. Just. Say?"
Luanne laughed gleefully, clapping her hands together. "I hit a nerve, didn't I? I did! Oh goodness - Wait till I tell your dear father.. Oh.. He'll be so disappointed. His precious daughter, fraternizing with the enemy. The heiress to the Ostvalto family fortune.. Ooh.. Bad girl."
"I--" Miley spluttered. "I-- I am not!" she spat indignantly. "I hate them," she shot out, with as much contempt as she could muster.
"Whoa - Sorry - I was just teasing you." She patted her cousin's shoulder sympathetically. "Doesn't one of their boys go to your school?"
"Yes. Oliver."
"Oh, the hot one."
Miley's eyebrow twitched.
"He's.. Okay."
"Are you kidding? He's amazing with his shirt off."
"How the hell do you know that?"
She looked weirded out by Miley's sudden sharp tone. "He always runs around with his shirt off during rugby practice. Don't think I don't notice these things when I come to school to pick you up or something."
"Oh.. Right.. I never noticed," Miley mumbled, evading her cousin's eyes.
"Suuuure... Anyways.. I was just leaving. I had to pick up a couple things. Bye."
Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she quickly shooed Luanne out the door.
"Hello?"
"Smokin' Oken at your service, babe."
"This better be Oliver."
"Duh," he said in a fake girly voice.
She rolled her eyes, lying back on her pillows, resting her arm across her stomach.
"What's up?"
She heard him laugh over the phone. "Well. I missed my favourite enemy."
"Am I really your enemy? 'Cause what we did doesn't really constitute as hating each other."
"Guess not. I'm just bored."
"Really? So am I."
"We have school tomorrow."
"Thanks captain obvious. I hope your chauffeur," she put extra stress on the word. "Doesn't try to kill me this time."
"Hey!" he shot defensively. "That was an accident. They didn't mean to nearly run you off the bridge."
"Lemme guess. When you got home, your parents were already celebrating?"
"Hey, now. That's not fair. Your father probably wants me gone too."
She sighed, covering her face with her free hand.
"This is so hard," she whispered quietly.
"I know. I know. Now, imagine me comforting you."
"It's not the same," she whined pitifully.
"We'll make it through," he said softly, different from his usually obnoxious facade. "Now, I can't wait to see you in that skirt tomorrow."
There it was.
"I hate the uniform."
"Naw. I don't."
"That's 'cause you get to see every girls' legs," she muttered darkly.
"Aw.. Don't worry, Miley, you know I only love yours. No need to get somebody to shoot those girls."
She snorted. "Please. They're not worth my time."
"Then what is worth your time?"
She grinned cheekily, even though he couldn't see her. "You."
He laughed loudly. "Oh geez.. That was--" Suddenly there was sharp intake of breath. "Oh shit - Gotta go. Bye."
"Bye."
CLICK.
She looked at the phone.
"Love you," she murmured, snapping the phone shut and resting it against her chest.
Soo. Review, please? You know the drill. xD You guys rocked, last chapter. :)
