warning

This is an 18+ book/nattrive writing. in no way bellow the age range readers are allowed. this book deals with sensitive topic as psychological distress and disorders such as ptsd, ocd, anxiety and panic disorders, toxic relationship between two individuals, sexual scene and mature language. Graphic trigger scenes.

If any individual is uncomfortable or uneasy in reading such scenes, please steer clear for this narrative writing.

Readers are requested to put their big girl knickers in when you are entering this book.

Also, first half of the book is really toxic, readers are humbly requested to be patient.

Not for readers under eighteen.

Thank you

-November.

Copyright

Copyright-2020 by November O’Riley. All rights reserved. In no way any part of this publication maybe duplicated, photocopied, published, distributed or transmitted by any means for financial or non financial gains

apart from the brief sections for reviews and publicity without the prior written permission from the publisher.

All characters and incidents of this story is creation of fiction. Any resemblance to reality or real life events, situations, persons, is merely coincidental and unintentional.

Said infringement of the copyright will be handled legally.

Mature audiences only

Prologue

WARNING!!!

THIS BOOK IS FOR MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY. IF YOU’RE DISTURBED BY MY PORTRAYAL OF SITUATIONS, YOU MAY LEAVE.

I do not wish to be rude but under 18 readers may steer clear.

(all rights reserved © 2020 November O’Riley)

“Oh, Angelo!” She cried as I pushed inside her harder then before, her head was on my pillow, fiery black hair sprawled across the white silk, her baby brown orbs staring up, watching herself on the reflective ceiling.

Breathing labored, chest heaving up and down from the ministrations going inside her body.

I dragged my lips down her throat, kissed the heavy swell of her breast, teased her stoned nipples, with my tongue. Circling them, making her moan from the sensations.

My tadpole was sensitive. So very sensitive around her nipples.

I took one of the hardened bud between my teeth, making her squeal out in pain mixed with pleasure as muscles gripped my cock in a tight grip.

“You like that, tadpole?” I smirked against her skin, my lips gliding down her ribs, her stomach. “You like me teasing you, little tadpole?”

“Uh-” Ariel cried out from both my hands playing with her sensitive nipples and my cock moved inside her.

There was something about this girl.

She was fierce. Maddening.

Every second she was on my last nerve but for some weird odd reason, I was drawn to her beauty like moth to flames.

No matter how many times I thought, this will be the last time I fucked her, I came back right after. As if she had casted a spell on me and I was her puppet.

“Oh- Angel!” She cried, lifting her hips off the bed, meeting my thrust for thrust. “You’re so deep, Fuck, Angel. Make me cum!”

I drove hard and fast inside her slippery wet hole, my hands digging the sides of her body, leaving those marks, I love on her pale skin.

Oh how much I love to paint her body with my marks.

“Oh, God!” She cried. “I want to cum, Angel, do it fast!”

Ariel cried as she shuddered from waves of orgasm. I stilled inside her, emptying my arousal into her sweet sweet core.

Ariel, winced when I pulled out of her, it was already sunrise.

We’ve successfully fucked the whole night through getting only fifty minutes sleep in between when I found myself buried into the sweet core of hers, tasting her love juices with my tongue, lapping up every bit that she spared for me like a starved man.

“Are you tired, tadpole?” I asked raking a hand through her dark hair. She looked at me with dazed eyes and shook her head.

“I have to go to work.” She whispered. “I don’t want to miss the class.”

I nodded and watched get get up from the bed, walk over to the bathroom, taking her time.

After she was done washing herself she wore the cloths she came in last night and left without so much of a good bye kiss.

I was used to Ariel’s behavior when it came to the male species.

She loved sex. Every kind of sex, she was up for it.

She loved sex with me, among her many conquests.

The twenty year old girl was gorgeous. And she wasn’t afraid to show her confidence off when she danced at ‘Minx’ the club that was temporarily my office.

Neither was she afraid to show her confidence off in the bedroom. It was a turn on.

When you’re accustomed with women who throw themselves on silver plates for you, hoping you’d take the hint and fuck them senseless, And then you see a fiery mad creature who has a passion for classical ballet and dangerous strip pole dancing, who is not afraid to ask for what she want, you kind of ignore the rest of the offered pussy.

Ariel was a flame in a house of sticks. She was a mother fucking tornado on land and she was not afraid to show it.

I showers and got dressed for the day. There was two shipments arriving, there was one meeting with the capo’s about solider training, there was an early lunch with my mother, a early dinner with Roman about the new hotel the family was opening and the late night club duties.

I met Ariel in between club times, she came after her performance, gave me a personal lap dance, ended up giggling while dancing and then we fucked on the table, against the window, against the door. On the shower, on the floor, against the balcony rail. All over.

I was Ariel’s conquest, nothing else. There was zero feeling attached, but she was like a soothing ray of sunshine, nobody could get enough of her beauty and her body.

Ariel sat on my lap as I talked to one of the Japanese Capo, about an important shipment from Japan.

Two sets of master computer and other electronic devices on a lot, for the estate house and the clubs, the hotels and the casino.

“You look extremely, sexy.” Ariel muttered playing with the button of my shirt. “I’d like this off though, and this too.” Her head slid down to my pants as she played with the zipper. “I hate when you’re wearing cloths.”

I chuckled into the receiver.

“I hate it.” She repeated. “It makes me want to tie you up and ride you till you fill my pussy all the way up.”

I shook my head, still speaking with the man on the other end.

After that night when we shared Ariel’s fantasy of tying me up and ride till I came, I hadn’t seen her for almost two weeks until one night before her shift she came into the office, looking timid and choppy.

I knew something was wrong because Bubbles aka Ariel was bubbly. She was gentle and sweet.

“Angel.” She started when I hoisted her up against the wall ready to pounce on her like the starved animal I was.

“Talk later, tadpole.” I said rubbing my handness against her silky core. “I want to fuck you so hard right now-”

“I am pregnant.” She whispered, eyes closed, lips trembling.

I dropped her on her feet.

“What?” I asked. “Whose is it?”

“Yours.” She signed. “Look I know something is messed up but I don’t know I went to the doctor some days back and she said- I am almost six weeks along…I want to keep it-”

Was she even for real?

“Are you sane?” I asked calmly, trying to keep the boiling anger inside me. “Are you normal in the head?”

“Why-”

I walked towards alcohol corner in the office, grabbed a bottle of Glendronach, and a packet of powdered diclofenac and walked back to her adding the drug to the whiskey.

“Angelo?” She whispered. “Say something-”

“Drink.” I ordered pushing the bottle on her hands.

She stood there looking at me like I was a mad man on parole.

“What?” I yelled taking the bottle from her and forcing her to stomach the alcohol. “Fucking drink it!” I yelled.

She coughed up from the cut of air supply, eyes blurred with tears, heart breaking. I could see it. I could hear it.

I held the bottle until she drank half of it, smashing the glass bottle in the floor.

“You fucking monster.” Ariel whispered wrapping arms around herself. “You bloody monster!”

“Quit the dramatics, Bubbles.” I hissed grabbing ahold of her delicate throat. “How did you even get the courage to walk here and tell me you fucking knocked up, huh?”

She sobbed, clawing at my arm.

“You think I want a kid?” I asked. “With you?”

She looked at me, helpless still wanting me to help her.

“We were just fucking, Ariel.” I said. “And you fucked you, so you fucking deal with it, whore!”

I released my hold around her throat to find her choking for air.

“You asshole!” She cussed. “It was your flesh, your blood, how could you?”

“Get the fuck out of my sight, Ariel.” I said opening the door. “Get the fuck out.”

She did and she never looked back at me.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

My db ass self couldn’t hold back any longer. Smh. Hope you enjoy.

-November.

01

I sat on the bar with my new found friend. Blaire.

She came from England.

But that’s all I know about the women. And frankly, I don’t care where she came from. If she’s a homeless truck driver or a princess, she seems like a good person and honestly, I could do with a good person right now.

“You’re embarrassing.” Blaire complained as slurped on the empty glass, on the ice cubes. “Stop making me embarrassed!”

She’s so whiny! Sometimes I feel like leaving her complaining ass alone but she’s got such a good ass.

I’ll feel bad if I do that.

“Can I get another chocolate milk on thee rocks?” I asked the bar man. “Make it extra cold. I hate hot stuff.”

Blaire made a gagging noise. “Stop. People don’t flirt that way, you creep.”

“You stop.” I pout. “I am having fun Blaire. Can you not? Moodkill.” I blamed and turned my attention back to the bar man pushing out my breasts to get his attention.

Blaire groaned beside me and tapped her head against the marble counter top. “You’re so creepy, Ariel.”

I ignored Blaire. Sometimes you cannot but ignore your complaining best friend when you’re trying to bed a man.

The bar man placed another chocolate milk on the rocks for me.

Two days ago, I shared some personal secrets that’s not really secret with Blaire.

I haven’t told my points of view to anybody yet. I don’t like sharing personal stuff, but Blaire seemed like a good listener so I told her. And it felt as if a heavy load lifted off my chest.

“Hey Bubbles!” Came a rude voice.

“Oh, hey pink.” I said, snapping my head at the direction of the voice pretending I was happy or somewhat pleased to see her.

I wasn’t.

I wanted to rip those blonde curls out of her head and make a green wig out of them lush hair.

Especially the show she pulled the other say about pussing the monster dick.

I mean she can go fuck whoever she want, minus the bragging. Like hell women, grow some respect.

I wish it grew on trees.

Blaire snorted.

“Go away, Pink.” She said in a rude tone. “We’re done with the shift.”

“I didn’t ask for Bubble’s side bitch.” She said. “Boss has asked to see you. Now.”

I roll my eyes. Side bitch? Really?

“Oh.” I said getting down from her chair. “Sure.” Not wanting to drag the not so friendly conversation.

“I’ll come with you.” Blaire said, finishing her drink with a go and joining me.

“Boss didn’t ask for you.” Pink pointed a finger at her. “Just her.”

I rolled eyes prepared for a come back but Blaire running mouth beat me to it.

“None of your goddamn business.” She said pushing past her, hitting on the shoulders purposefully as she followed me through the stairs.

“You’re so mean.” I giggled once we were pass Pink. “I love it.”

“I try.” She shrugged.

I knock on the wooden door once. Pause for two seconds and knock again.

“Come in.” Roman’s voice come muffled from the other side of the door.

I push the door open uttering a small prayed hoping he is not inside and it’s just Roman.

Roman was a powerful man, I won’t lie. He was good looking, panty dropping even. Sex on legs.

Mad good looking.

But- for some weird ass reason my eyes found the asshole sitting opposite to him.

I pretended he didn’t exist.

“Get out, Blaire.” Roman said as soon as we stepped inside the room.

Whew!

Blaire got some mad ass explaining to do to me. I thought mentally. Or I was going to make grill of that women and feel her to my Welsh Corgi.

That thing was high maintenance.

“Oh, I am staying.” She say crossing her arms over her chest. “I ain’t leaving my friend alone in presence of assholic monsters.”

Oh Blaire, you lovely human being.

Roman looked up at Blaire, throwing fireballs at her with his eyes but didn’t say anything further.

I for one know, if it was someone else, they would stand there with a bullet hole between their eyes and get out in a body bag.

But something about Roman for Blaire was different. I could sense it.

“You’re slacking performance, Ariel.” Roman said in his thick accent. “Any reason you need to share?” He added turning his intense gaze toward me.

“No Sir.” I replied, nervous. “I’m sorry, I’ll work hard…” I replied like a parrot.

A goddamn parrot.

He knew why was I so stiff and rigid.

The mother fucking bastard knew it and yet he called me her to warn me.

Sick asshole.

I am fine.

“Your promises mean to me, Ariel.” He said. “However if you slack the rest of the week, I’ll be forced to push you out.”

“You can’t do that!” Blaire yelled out of nowhere. I sighed. This women.

“This women does good enough job to keep all those pervert men entertained while you sit here and fuck your random whore…”

My gaze flicked to Angelo sitting on the visitors chair, his Fist tightened around the pen he was holding, but he composed himself in a split second

“Don’t interrupt me while I am talking, Blaire.” He says, not looking at her. His eyes still trained on me “As I was saying, if your rates keep dropping, I’ll have you out, clear?”

“Yes, sir.” I whispered.

“Would you like to tell me the reason of your dropped rates?”

“No, sir.” I replied. “I am perfectly fine.”

“Are you?” He asks.

Jesus Christ!

Shut up, up you asshat

“Yes, Sir.” I say.

“You may leave.” He orders. “Angelo will help you to your ride. I need to talk to Blaire.”

No. No. No. No.

I don’t wanna go no where with that psychopath.

“Do you need to tell me something more, Ariel?” Roman asked raising an eyebrow when I didn’t move after a minute.

“No, Sir.” I replied and walked out of the office room, giving a friendly nudge of encouragement to Blaire.

Outside, the office Aneglo was nowhere. It was good rather.

I don’t want him anywhere.

I haven’t talked to him face to face after that horrible day in the office.

He scares me. Period.

Subconsciously, I placed my hand in my flat stomach but dismissed the thought with a wave of my hand and collected my bag from green room and walked out through the employee door, hoping to get a taxi or twenty four hour bus.

A white black maserati stood on the driveway.

Oh, please.

Pretending I didn’t see the car, I walked toward the road wanting desperately to grab a taxi.

“Get in.” I heard the order.

The car was a step behind me, and Angelo was in the driver’s seat.

Of course he was.

“Help me, Ariel and get fuck inside the car.”

“Screw you.” I said turning and giving him a middle finger and walking toward the road toward the close by taxi terminal.

A firm grip confiscated my upper arm turning me to face the dark eyed devil. “Why are you so difficult?”

“Shut up.” I said frowning. “I don’t want to get in your car.”

“Don’t be difficult, tadpole.” He said inching closer and pushing my hair back from my face.

The black hairs he loved so much.

I died them fucking bubble gum pink.

And I was loving every moment of it.

“You’ve changed, tadpole.”

I am not a frog. I wanted to say but instead I wrapped my arms around myself.

Angel-

Angelo touching me gave me flashbacks, I didn’t want to have.

“Leave me alone.” I said shivering. “I wanna go home.”

“Let me take you home.” He offers.

And what?

What then? Try to crucify me?

No thank you.

“I’ll grab a taxi.” I say, stubborn. “Look, Angel-o, I am too tired. I want to sleep.”

“Let me take you home.”

I sighed. “Fuck you.” I said. “Leave me the fuck alone, get the fuck out of my goddamn fucking life Giovanni. I have had enough of your bipolar personality disorder, I don’t want it anymore.”

“Ariel-” he warned.

I raised up my hand for him to stop.

“Don’t you fucking dare use that tone on me, you bastard.” I said. “One night you kill my child, the other night you fuck the club whores while I watch, some other nights you get into gun fights and almost die and now you’re here wanting to take me home? Do you even fucking hear your self?”

“I hear myself just fine.” He said fisting my hair pulling my face back so I look up at his black eyes. “You’ll let me drop you home, are we clear?”

“We are not.” I say pulling my knee back and hitting him hard in the ribs.

His grip on my hair loosens, I slip out and run to the terminal.

“Taxi!” I call the departing yellow vehicle. “Sea house colony, please. Complex 12.” I say getting inside and closing the door.

I’ve known Angelo Giovanni from day one when I walked into Minx and was interviewed as an exotic dancer.

He had the eyes for me, I could tell.

I can tell when a man wants me. It’s usually 7/10 times. And frankly he had my undivided attention as well.

We fucked on my third week here and then again and then I lost count how long we’ve been going until late last year.

The night still haunted me.

I kept my head low for all these months, didn’t talk to nobody, didn’t share anything with nobody but news gets around the club like a wild fire.

After that night, I called Don Roman and asked for a week long leave. He granted with payment.

And when I came back to work after that week, Angelo’s office was moved. He sat on a different club, and the girls was already looking at me with narrowed eyes.

I realized it was better to shut the fuck up and work away because I wasn’t here to make any friends. Until Blaire came along of course.

She acted weird the first night and then she kept asking for suggestions and help and she made it easy to talk to her and create a lady to lady bond, I suppose.

She’s my only friend now.

Last time, before two nights ago, I heard of Angelo was a couple weeks ago when he took two bullets for Don Roman.

I had a massive urge to call him to see if he was okay. But my pride came in between. I’d never talk to the man or look at the man same.

And yet, I have no idea why is he back now? For what?

He was the villain to my story.

Period.

---

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

that’s all updates for today. Hehe and I hope that you find this book interesting.

-November.

02

“Okay, girls…and boys.” I clapped my hands. “Stretch.”

The fifteen of them grunted and thumped on the floor as I did and stretched.

“For how long do we practice the pirouetting, miss Ariel!” One of them whiney boy asked.

“As long as you don’t look like a pregnant chicken, Antonio.” I said pursing my lips. “You haven’t yet perfected the spin yet, we’ll keep going that till we look like dn good ballerina’s clear, kids?”

“Yes, miss Ariel.” The bunch of then chorused.

God, I love being a teacher.

I grinned internally and stretched with the kids before standing up and showing them the move again. While they practiced.

It was already lunch time. I was to go home and shower and cook- awe kill me. I don’t like cooking.

I saw the clock turning one and the kids dropped on their asses. “Oh, we’re done for today, Miss Ariel.”

Damn right you are, chickens.

My phone vibrated on my hand, pouting I examined the private number.

Nobody calls me other then my apartment owner and stupid insurance company sometimes the weird ass advertisement firm.

Nonetheless, I answered the call. “Hello, who’s this?”

“Hey.” She replied. “It’s me, Blaire.”

Of course, it’s you women.

“You have a phone?” I asked.

How dare she not tell me she has a phone. At least I could text her annoying stuff at three am.

“Nope.” She replied. “I was wondering if you’d like to have  a late lunch, maybe…” She said sounding weird.

Huh?

Lunch invite?

With Blaire?

“Lunch?” I repeated.

“At the estate.” She said.

“Where?” I asked. “Estate? Why?”

At the estate?

I’d avoid that place at the cost of everything to be honest.

The estate house was massive with lush gardens and orchards. But it was also the motherfucking home of the DiMariano family.

And not gonna lie, I sort of don’t know anyone.

“For lunch, Bubbles.” She said. I could almost see her eye rolling “In ten minutes.” She added.

Yeah, well act like a brat now, go on.

“Sure.” I say. “Nobody is there, right?”

I’d rather not run into Mr. Giovanni after I kicked his ribs damn hard.

Should have aimed for his nuts too.

“Nope.” She said. “Just food.”

“Yeah, Kay.” I replied. “Be there in ten, babe.”

“Kay.” She relied ending the call.

The kids were almost out of the auditorium by the time I was done talking.

After they cleared off, I locked the doors and walked out and walked home.

This colony had a colony school where I taught ballet five days a week. Two days to the five to ten year olds and three days to above ten year olds.

And my home was walking distance, salary was pretty good that made me afford a nice one bedroom one bathroom apartment.

Stepping inside the cocoon that was my home, I dropped my utility bag on the floor, left the slippers by the door and jumped into shower, washing the sweat from Italy’s dangerously warm weather today.

I selected my most least worn dress that was a white summer dress with thinnest straps that fell above my knee.

Since I didn’t wet my hair, I pulled it up in a messy ponytail and added a random gold chain on my neck to look good, slipped my feet into my wedges and grabbed my circular jute shoulder bag and screamed for a taxi.

It was already late when a maid dressed nicely took me to the back gardens where a circular lunch table was set out and I felt underdressed.

The older women’s were dressed in nice house dresses. Blaire was wearing a baby blue sundress and I looked poor.

No biggie. I didn’t have time to make myself look good.

It’s not like a fashion show here.

“There you are.” Blaire admonished. “I am feeling like a third wheel.”

I pouted.

“Ariel!” Miss Giovanni aka Alyssa Giovanni greeted me.

Kill me now.

I flushed.

She watched me get fucked from behind by her son in his study when she walked in unannounced.

I mean….

“Hello, Miss Giovanni.” I said placing my shoulder bag on the grass by the only empty chair.

“How are you love?” Miss Giovanni asked. “All good?”

“I am fine, miss Giovanni.” I replied “How are you?”

“Perfect, love.” She said. “Sit.”

I took my seat on the empty chair as the women poured me a glass of chilled Rosé.

“Today your day off?” I ask sitting leaning toward her

“So I have been told.” She replies picking up a bite sized appetizer.

“Mine is too.” I added. “I was at the ballet class, I smell like shit.”

She giggles making me roll my eyes.

I mean I surely cleaned my body using the orange flavoured soap but didn’t get to roll my on some damn deodorant.

I swear perfumes made for women should be given a little more effort.

“I thought you said just food.” I said. And then pointing at the women conversing with the Donna I said, “That’s Angelo’s mother.”

But I doubt she knew.

Can’t blame her can I?

Besides Miss Giovanni was sweet and gentle.

“I didn’t know that.” She say. “I am sorry, Ariel…if I knew…”

I wave her off.

Is she for real?

How dare she calls me her friend and acts like this.

Should strangle her I should.

“Nah.” I said. “Alyssa is pretty cool plus she’s nice.”

Blaire nods, gauging my mood.

“Besides, we just gonna eat and we can go up to your room and discuss, Verity?” I ask. “I need somebody to discuss that book with or I’ll go nuts.”

I swear I need to discuss that book asap.

I mean it was way go twisted and sad. Even for my pathetic self.

“I haven’t finished that yet!” Blaire whined. “I barely get any time!”

Yeahhh…right. All you do is sleep and eat and dance for two hours.

I give her the look pouting. “You suck. You’re boring.”

She glares at me understanding what I just thought and shakes her head “You’re boring.”

Ravioli is served for lunch with chicken inside and huge ass amount of vegetables in the side.

They were feeders.

I knew that Miss Giovanni was because after she busted us, in a not so decent position she made sure the dinner was fulfilling and I was stuffed.

Blaire discussed the Tess book making me want to kill her, because she even went out of bounds to finish that piece of classical bull.

That’s how bored she was. She read Tess. That’s how bored she was.

I put a huge amount of pasta in my mouth feeling the sauce drench my taste buds as I nod to everything Blaire says about Angel being an asshole.

Angel is an asshole alright. I don’t disagree.

“Mama.” I heard the oh so familiar voice, making me almost cough out the insane amount of pasta in my mouth. “How’s my favourite girl?” He asked.

I rolled my eyes and ignored the family reunion that involved him treating his mother like she was a child and kissing her on cheek telling her how much he loved her, and Alyssa shrieking profanities at him because he was damn high from Mary Jane.

Yeah, well, if my son don’t treat me this way, I want a refund.

If I ever have one, that is.

Fondant Au chocolat, was served for dessert. Otherwise chilled chocolate lava cake.

Fancy French name.

After desert the older ladies called coffee. Blaire and I declined instead kept discussing other romance and erotica that I lend her to read.

“You need to read Verity.” I said when it was time to leave. “And give me my books back or I’ll end our friendship.”

Blaire stuck out her tongue at me giving me a hug.

“You look beat.” She said. “Take a good nap when you get home, okay?”

“I will.” I replied hugging her. “I was joking abut ending the friendship, you know? You’re my best friend.” I said shuffling on my feet.

“I love you, you little shit.” She poked at my ribs.

“Feeling is mutual.” I shook my head and left with one last wave.

I was waiting in the uber after I left the mansion. They guy shaid he’ll be here in three minutes, it was past five.

I huffed checking the time on my phone. It was fifteen past four in the afternoon.

I want some goddamn sleep.

The sleek Maseratti stopped with a glide making me roll my eyes.

The passenger side door opened automatically as I saw, Angelo’s form on the driver’s side.

“Get in.” He ordered.

“I am waiting for a taxi.” I replied looking at my phone, pretending he didn’t exist.

“Tadpole, get inside.” He said, sounding like I was on his last fucking nerve.

Good for him, then.

“Nope.” I said. “Pretty sure, I can wait two more minutes for the taxi.”

“No taxi is coming here, baby.” He said. “Get the fuck inside or so help me-”

“What will you do, Angelo?” I ask walking toward the car, leaning to see his face, jaw rigid, eyes covered with Tom Ford shades. “Are you going to hurl me inside?”

“Precisely, tadpole.” He said removing his glasses. “Get inside, we need to talk.”

“No we don’t.” I reply. “We don’t have anything to talk-”

I don’t get to finish my sentence as Angelo gets out, and shoves me inside the car and shuts the door.

“Asshole!” I yell trying to get the door open as he slips back into his seat.

“Don’t be a wild thing.” He said. “Or I’ll tie you up and gag you quiet, tadpole.” He warns starting the engine.

I sit on the leather seat, fuming.

What a cowardice fucking cunt.

“My place or yours?” He asks.

I don’t answer instead wrap my arms around myself and look out through the window.

---

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

I’LL come back to edit the typos and other things. I got up late and now I have two hours of makeup study and two hours of actual study. Heh….byes..

-November.

PS. This is the recipe for Fondant Au Chocolat

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0_2unzqoCrA

This channel has very easy recipes to follow. Lol

03

Warning!

Mature theme and scenes ahead, any one uncomfortable with the said theme is free to leave.

The Maseratti halted in front of his penthouse building, a building I knew so well.

I was still not talking to the man who forcefully brought me to his home and parked the car and now was holding the door open for me to get out.

“Ariel, stop being problematic and acting like a brat and get out of the damn car.” He said for the nth time.

Sighing, I examined my nails. I need to polish them, the paints were chipped in the sides.

I don’t like it.

“Fucking get out, tadpole!” He yelled grabbing my arm with a purpose and hurling me outside. The valet waited beside Angelo to park the car in the underground garage and was now our attentive spectator.

“Come on, baby.” Angelo’s voice softened as he pulled me toward the entrance and into the private elevator using his fingerprint and a code.

Rolling my eyes, I accompanied him into the elevator. The stupid cubicle took us up twenty floors and we stepped inside the white and grey furbished penthouse suite that belonged to Angelo.

“I want to sleep.” I said breaking the silent treatment I was giving to nobody in particular.

But then again, there was only Angelo.

“Let’s talk first, sí?” Angelo asked shrugging off his tanned suit jacket and throwing it on the living room sofa.

“For one, Mr. Giovanni, I said I didn’t have anything to talk to you and two, I said I wanted to sleep, or so help me, I’ll hurl the vase on your head, for good.” I said crossing my arms over my chest.

Angelo’s jaw muscle, contracted. I knew he was biting that tongue not to say anything.

I swear if he utters one word that doesn’t settle with me, I am going to ruin this house and light the fuck of up on fire. Don’t care.

“Fine.” Angelo sighed.

Rolling my eyes, I made my way to the master bedroom, leaving my shoes and the bag by the door, fairly conscious abut Angelo following me, closely.

Entering the room, I sighed deeply.

Weird how many times I’ve been in this room but never once used the bed to sleep. The thought makes me laugh.

What was becoming of my life?

I thought he made it clear he didn’t want anything to do with me?

That night when he forced the miscarriage out of me, he made sure every ties between us, even though there were not many, was tethered and battered.

He broke them enough not to fix them. Now what’s wrong with him?

I undid my pony tail and shook out my bubblegum pink hair, dragging my fingers through the pouffy mess.

I hated how much the man affected me.

I hated how much I let him affect me.

I hated every part of me for being so weak and pathetic for him.

I’ve slept with many men, not going to play saint.

I’ve slept with men from the club, from the drive by bar, rich men, men wanting company for a little while, trying to get away from their nagging wife, but none of them intrigued me as Angelo Giovanni’s dark eyes and equally dark, demanding aura.

Don’t get me wrong, don’t call me a whore, I love sex, I was up and ready for sex any part of the day, before Angelo came into the picture. And since then it’s only been Angelo.

And then the dry spell casted over my self that night in the office. I haven’t looked at any men after that.

See, when you get attached once, you fear, you will get attached again. I didn’t want to get attached again.

I didn’t want anybody to treat me like a door mat again. My pride is far to big for that.

I undid my dress, my dress didn’t require a bra so I was down with a pair of lace covering my bits. Raking my fingers though my hair, I walked to the right side of the bed and laid down, the silk, cold against my skin.

Angelo, seemed like respected my privacy enough, that he didn’t bother coming in. I pulled the coverlets between my legs and up till the silk covered my tits from any unwanted intruder.

Not that there was any, but who knows?

Angelo is an asshole and weirdly obsessed with my tits.

“Tadpole.” I heard his low voice but snuggled further to the sheets.

Go away, Angelo. I don’t have time for your bipolarity.

“Tadpole?” He called again. “Dinner time, baby.”

Fuck you too, cunt.

“Come on, baby.” He called his hand gently on my arm, caressing with his rough knuckles. “Dinner time.”

“Please.” I yawned. “Go away, I don’t want dinner.”

“I have to feed you, tadpole come on.” He said patting my ass. “Get up.”

Huffing I shoved his hand away and flipped on my front.

“As tempting as you look right now, Ariel, I’d rather you get up, pit some cloths on and join me for dinner.” He ordered.

The gentleness in his voice gone to the dogs.

I didn’t budge, even though he was going way out if his way and honestly trying to be nice.

“Ariel!” He yells making me jump and sit up feeling my heart rate increase abnormally.

I took a moment to compose my sanity and then looked at him.

“Dinner time, tadpole.” He repeats, pushing my hair behind my ears caressing my cheek with his knuckle. “You drive me mad.”

Pursing my lips, I look away from his dark eyes, baring his soul to mine.

I don’t care. I never wanted his soul or his heart, or love or whatever the fluff rainbow shit.

I’ve been on my own since I was sixteen. The concept of live and rainbows and fluffy bullshit is foreign to me.

Angelo pinches my chin, making me face him, bringing our lips closer…closer.

Barely a breath away.

No.

I slap his hand way, pushing against him. “How fucking dare you?” I hiss, getting down from the bed, sheets clutched close to my chest. “The audacity of yours leave me speechless.”

“Let me feed you, baby.” He sighs. “Come on.”

“I don’t want food!” I yell. “I want to go home, fucking help me Angelo, I want to go home, away from you and your this-” I gesture all of his. “Away from you.”

“Baby, come on.” He says. “Don’t be difficult.”

“I’m being the most simple I’ve ever been in my life!” I shout. “I just want to fucking go home and live my goddamn life like I want minus you- you are the reason my life is fucked up!”

“I am the reason your life is fucked up?” He yells back getting down from the bed, muscular built body clad in tailored silk white shirt, sleeves pushed up to reveal well defined forearms, a proof that he has been slaving about in the kitchen.

“I fucked up your life?” He asks pointing at himself. “Me?”

“Who else?” I hiss. “That night-”

“Your life only revolves around that night?” He yells. “And what of before? And after that? Just that night- that night- I am done with that night!” With every passing word his voice gets harsh and loud, his eyes dilate and I see his whole demeanour shaking from anger.

“You’re a murderer!” I shout pointing at him. “You’re a fucking murderer.”

Fuck him. Fuck his anger issues. Fuck- fuck everything.

“I’ve never cried martyr, have I?” He yelled back. “You’re putting your goddamn thinking on my head!”

“You fucking killed your own flesh!” I yell. “You killed your own blood, Angelo, you sadistic murderer!”

“You killed our baby!” I shout, tears streaming down my face as I take angry steps toward him.

My outburst takes him by surprise as I see him backing off the fight.

“You killed my baby, Angelo!” I push against his chest, hard using my both hands, meaning for it hurt, like he hurt me.

I want it to hurt. I want him to hurt.

I want him to fucking hurt as much as he hurt me.

I want him in pain as much as pain I was in.

I want him to fucking cry and yell and hate as much as I kept those tears, pain and hatred buried in me for the past year.

“You killed my baby!” I yell, ugly tears cascade down my cheeks, the coverlet covering my body long forgotten on the floor as I hit Angelo, over and over.

Crying. Sobbing, cussing.

“I fucking hate you.” I cry. “I never loved you but I hate you!”

“Tadpole.” He sighs grabbing both of my hands and pulling me close to his body.

I sniffle, lips wobbling as I stare up at the man who fucking broke my heart even though I never gave it to him.

“I hate you.” I whisper, every cell of my body giving the testimony of the truth behind the sentence, Angelo exhales releasing one of my hand and pushing my wold hairs behind my ears, revealing my tears strained face to his eyes.

“I hate you more then I’ve ever loved anyone, Angelo.” I say. “I wish I never met you. I wish you never existed.”

He opens his mouth to respond but then he exhales, and pushes my my head to his chest so he’s cupping my head and my cheek rests on top of his beating heart.

I hate how much I feel.

I hate how he’s the one to make me feel.

I hate this feeling.

I hate me.

I hate him.

I hate everything.

I fist his shirt and a sob rakes through my body, shaking me to the depth of my soul.

Angelo holds me to him as I cry for the pathetic self I have become.

But then anger bubbles inside me as I roughly push him, untangling myself, roughly wiping my tears with the back of my hand.

“Come on, tadpole, you’ve yelled, you’ve blamed, you’ve cried, you’ve shown me precisely how angry you are…let’s not do this anymore, baby.” He says cupping my cheeks, gently looking at my eyes, my angry features. “Let’s eat, and…I’ll…drop you home, tadpole.”

I kissed him.

I reached up, roughly placed my lips on him, and kissed him like I hate him.

“You’re mad…” Angelo muttered, in between my assault on his mouth. “Fucking mad, baby…”

“Fuck me.” I whispered pulling away hooking my leg around his waist, pushing my core to his now hardened crotch and kissed him again.

“Fuck me, Angelo.” I begged. “Like you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you…” He breathed out as I like a maniac undid the buttons on his shirt, pushing the silken material away from his defined shoulders, hands all over his rock hard muscles, carved by the Gods, themselves.

“Slow down, Ariel.” He said pushing me away watching my frantic activities.

No. I need this.

I- I need this.

“No.” I shake my head. “Fuck me.”

Angelo’s eyes darkened, he was battling with himself.

“I need you, Angelo.” I begged. “Please. Please.”

“No.” He shook his head. “You’ll leave once we’re done…you don’t stay.” He whispered. “You never stay, Ariel.”

“I’ll stay.” I agreed, desperate.

“Please.” I pushed my body against him, connected our lips, fisted his hair as he hoisted me up, laid me down on the bed, kissed me and then fucked me.

Hard and fast, merciless, like an animal, feasting on the flesh between my legs.

I cried out, over and over again from his deep, measured thrusts, hitting my sweet spot with every push.

“You’re tight.” He groaned, his face buried on the crook of my neck.

I bit my lip, arms around his neck holding him in place, legs hooked around his waist as he pushed inside me, pulled out of me leaving me empty only to fill me up again.

I looked at the dark reflective ceiling and cried out feeling myself tighten around his girth.

“I am close, baby.” He whispered. “Are you-”

On the pill? So you don’t get knocked up again?

Are you on the pill so I don’t put a baby in you again?

Are you on the goddamn pill because I can’t resist you.

“Yes.” I whispered.

I closed my eyes, feeling the build up in me, the knot on my stomach quivering, shaking ready to break.

My heart thumping loudly enough to break the damn cage.

“Fuck, tadpole.” Angelo curses. “Cum, for me, baby. Show me, how beautiful you are, show me, tadpole.”

His rhythm became more ruthless, somewhat sloppy, maddening, pushing and pulling, rotating his hips.

My walls clenched his shaft, Angelo groaned as my body shook from the orgasm, he followed suit, our arousal mixed together, dripping in the bed.

“Stay.” He ordered placing a lingering kiss on my lips, pulling out of me. “I still want to feed you, I made your favourite. Caponata and bread.”

And like he said, he fed me, then bathed me and put me to bed. In a daze, I obliged to every word he said, soothingly he dressed me on one of his T-shirt, combed my hair before covering my form with the silk duvet.

“Stay.” I muttered when he got up to leave.

Why do I crave him?

I hate this.

I hate him yet, I want him.

This is not normal.

---

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

I’LL come back to edit. Huhu. Sorry for the typos and all, I hope you enjoyed and this is a very big chapter almost double but I loved writing the piece, let me know how you liked it.

-November.

04

Something important

1 I know that

tadpole

is a weird and unusual pet name to call anybody and some of you feel uncomfortable, but see this, I like this. So no criticism on that.

2. I’ve used a little bit of Italian words here and there and stuff like that. And The under boss (according to various sites) in directly translates

Capo

Bestone

 

in Italian, meaning head stick. Capo Bestone and Capo are two different positions. Capo stands under the Capo Bestone. The under boss who stands under the Boss or Don or the family head.

That’s all.

Waking up, I reached to the right side of the bed, hoping to find a certain pink haired beauty, curled up, wanting attention like she did last night.

All night, before I feel asleep.

“Jesus Christ.” I groaned sitting up, the duvet around my wait and shook my head, a mirthless chuckle leaving me.

What a liar. I thought mentally.

Stay.

I’ll stay.

Empty fucking promises form those lips dripped like honey and she didn’t even regret.

Quiet the opposite happened last night. Last night, my sweet women was vulnerable, my sweet women wanted me, she craved me and now in the morning she’s gone.

As always.

Always fucking leaving.

I shook my head again, anger bubbling inside of, feeling as if the world was spinning in the opposite direction.

With a sweep of my arm, the contents of the night stand landed on the floor, the bedside lamp cracked, the wine bottle from previous night shattered and red liquid fizzing in the floor soaking the tread wire carpet.

My phone vibrated, I searched for the device on the bed finally finding of under my pillow.

Roman.

“Boss?” I answered my free hand pulling my hair from the roots, a habit triggered by stress.

“Angelo.” He replies. “I thought there was a shipment you were to receive, Capo bestone.” He added.

Jesus fucking Christ.

The stolen diamonds, that are supposed to come back.

“I-” I sigh. “I overslept, boss.”

He stays silent on the other side.

Being together and growing up almost in the same house, you pick up some of each others hints.

“I am fine.” I replied to his unasked question. “I am fine, Roman”

“Bene.” He said. “At the hotel. Twenty minutes. Move it.” He barked ending the call.

I dialed the cleaning service of the hotel to send a maid before showering and suiting up for the day.

After the drive to the village inn hotel and resort, I met Roman in his office.

Looking a bit out of the weather, the man sat on the brown leather chair behind the brown varnished table.

“Where do you want me?” I asked pulling the visitor’a chair back and sitting down, undoing the button on my suit jacket, leaning back.

Roman reached to the drawer on the desk and tossed a black velvet drawstring pouch toward me.

Emptying the contents in the table top, I examined the nine carat stones, thirty in total, polished and untracked and renumbered and ready for whatever job they had.

“Seems alright to me.” I reply putting the contents back on the pouch and tossing it back to Roman.

He caught the thing as I lit up a cigarette and blew a smoke of tobacco in the air.

“I had sex with Blaire.” He says leaning his head back against the backrest.

“So?” I ask. “She has a feisty mouth, it was supposed to happen anyway, the fuck you care for?” I asked taking a drag of the cigarette.

Roman sighs. “It wasn’t supposed to happen-”

“What?” I smirked. “You regret it?”

“Fuck it.” He said grabbing a cigarette and lighting it up. “I have work to do, feeling a pussy around my dick ain’t gonna put food on the table.”

I shook my head at this thought.

A late breakfast was served the office room for both me and Roman.

“Recall on your first day back, Ricardo mentioned a tripper?” Roman asked.

“Clearly.” I reply. “What do you-”

“Suppose, the said tripper was one from the Salvatore family.” Roman rudely interrupts. “I want you to reach out for this bastard, and ask why was he looking for me.”

“You suppose, he has some inside information for us?” I ask scooping a spoonful of beans in my mouth.

“I do.” Roman agrees. “I want you to sit with him, record every goddamn breath he gives away.”

I nod. “Sure.”

“And then come back to Minx, we will have a drink.” He smiles at me retrieving a folder from the drawer and handing it over. “It contains all the information. Get in with Eli and find where this asshole is and make him talk.”

“Won’t be hard.” I said examining the file. “Given that he wants to volunteer information, suspect he’s a spy. Why else would he give the information on his own family?”

“If he turns out to be a bitch to Salvatore’s you know what to do.” Roman orders. “This Salvatore shit needs to be dealt with as soon as possible, I have had enough of their childishness.”

I nod.

Around ten thirty that night, I parked my Maserrati at Minx’s back entrance, tossed the keys to the valet who will park it underground and made my way to the VIP deck.

Using my fingerprint, I unlocked the office door, Roman wasn’t here yet, so I retrieved a bottle of Johnnie Walker black from the alcohol cabinet and poured myself a glass walking back to the chair.

Leaning my head back, I swirled the liquid in the glass.

I couldn’t but look back to last night.

What was it?

The knock on the office door snapped me from my thinking, I pressed the button on the desk to unlock the door.

“Come in.” I parked as Avena aka Pink, by her stage name slipped inside.

“Capo Bestone.” She said her hands clashed on her back, pushing her tits out, already in her stage dress. “Can I tempt you for something tonight?”

“No, I am fine.” I replied leaning my head back against the headrest. “Do you require something of me?”

“Why of course, sir.” She said giddily. “Your attention and perhaps a treat-”

“You strut in here asking for sex?” I sat up straight. “How much down did that self respect went, Avena?”

She purser her lips, shaking her head. “Forgive me, Capo Bestone, you looked stressed tonight, I only hoped to help you relax a bit, that’s all.”

“I need you to do  something for me.” I said, buttoning my suit jacket up. “Sit.” I ordered.

Avena sat on one of the visitor’s  chair, her hands on the desk, giving me a glimpse of what was barely hidden. “What can I do for you, Capo Bestone.”

“Tomorrow you’re off from the club, ain’t that right?” I asked.

“Sí.” She nodded.

“I need you to get into the casinò reale, get in touch with Eli, he’ll put you up with a soldier-”

“But the casinò, it’s owned by-”

I hate people interrupting me. “Sonny Salvatore, yes and ad you of course know, his little brother Levi Salvatore was killed minus some days ago-”

“Yes, Capo Bestone.” She flinched slightly.

“I want you to get in that casinò, inside that office if possible, whatever you have to do, do it, report me about Sonny Salvatore, what’s he doing, how’s he doing and how’s he handling the punk’s death…I want information. Is that clear?”

“Sí, Capo Bestone.” Pink said with a slight smirk.

“I trust you, Avena.” I said. “Your words mean to me, I know you’ll do the job, get out alive, do what you have, family’s men will be behind you, are we clear?”

“Crystal, Capo Bestone.” She said.

I retrieved a new pistol from the bottle drawer and a pouch filled with bullets, tossing it to the girl. “Whatever is necessary, never-”

“I’ll do it, Capo Bestone.” She repeated.

“I believe you, Avena.”

She nods and gets up to leave making me sigh.

Roman enters suit in the room, dressed in a grey two piece suit paired with a white shirt.

“What’s with Pink carrying a gun?” He asks frowning. “Are you ordering hits without permission?”

“No, boss.” I said gulping my whiskey in one go. “I’m having pink sneaking into the casinò and retrieve information.”

“And you expect what exactly-”

“Roman- as much as it’s hard and difficult to reassure a man, it’s equally easier to reassure a women who’d do anything to get up in the family.” I said. “That’s fact.”

Roman rolled his eyes and sat down on the chair vacated by Avena and turned the TV in which flashed the surveillance camera all over the club from the entrance to the cages to the underground, rooms where men paid for sweet sweet pleasure-

“Zoom on camera fifty two.” I said squinting to look at the black and white moving images. “Is that-”

“Ariel?” Roman snorted.

“The fuck does she think she’s doing?” I hissed soaring to my full height, buttoning my suit jacket and walking out of the office room, leaving an expressionless Roman behind.

From the deck, I could see only Blaire and some other chick in stage four. The men hooting and shouting from entertainment.

I made my way down the stairs and through the corridor and down the staircase that took me to the red blue light lit, well furbished underground rooms.

Fifty two. Mentally I cussed, right hand withdrawing my  Mark23, from the wait band of my slacks and kicked the door open.

The bastard shrieked as I fired the first bullet.

Missed.

I’ll fucking kill him.

“Turn on the light!” I barked.

“Jesus Christ, Angelo.” Ariel’s voice drag through the darkness, something is loose.

“Turn on the light, Goddamnit!” I bark firing the second bullet, some glass shatters and the florescent light floods the room.

Ariel clutches the the blanket to her chest, looking dazed.

“Are you fucking high?” I hiss moving toward her stationery position, kneeling on the bed.

The scared looking bastard cowering toward the furthest corner of the room.

“None of your business.” Ariel drawled shaking her hair and dragging fingers through them.

Her dancing outfit lay in the floor.

“Capo Bestone?” I heard somebody from the doorway.

“Get clean up here and Ricardo.” I ordered. “Now.”

“Yes, Capo Bestone.” The voice said and I heard shuffling.

Great.

“Get up.” I ordered for Ariel. “Come on.”

“No.” She snapped. “Go away, you’re not my parent.”

“Fucking get up  and get dressed tadpole.” I hissed taking off my suit jacket and shoving it toward her. “Now.”

She is on my last goddamn nerve, for fuck’s sake.

Why can’t this woman just do as she’s asked for once.

She rolled her eyes but kept fixed to her position.

“Tadpole.” I warned.

“Fuck you.” She snapped. “I am not a frog.”

I grabbed her chin roughly and forced her dazed over eyes to look at me. “Put on the damn coat, I am taking you home.”

“I am not going nowhere with you, you sadistic asshole!” She yelled. “You ruin everything!”

Of course. Here we go with the blaming and the cussing and the tears.

Ricardo appears by my side in another minute. “Capo Bestone.”

“Empty this bastard for behavioural misconduct, getting a dancer high and not respecting the woman’s privacy and show him out.” I ordered. “Make sure he never finds the way to the club, I mean it.”

“You can’t do that!” The man cowering in fear said. “The whore was already heigh when we came here into this room, you can’t do all that for fucking a who-” his next words were cut out replaced by a scream.

“Angelo!” Ariel cried.

I pointed my finger at her in warning. “Don’t interrupt me.”

My bullet had hit him on his thigh. “The next will hit you on that limp dick.” I threatened. “You call my woman a whore again, I’ll fucking kill you in ways you never could imagine.”

“Get him the fuck out of my sight, Ricardo.” I yelled. “Have somebody to get my car, inform Roman I am going home.”

Ricardo responded in affirmative and dragged the wounded asshole away as I picked up Ariel, punching and slapping wherever her hand could go on my body.

“Stop it.” I said carrying her out of the room.

“You asshole!” She cried in agony. “I hate you, let me go, I don’t want to be around you, you fucking cock sucker.”

I rolled my eyes at her profanities as I stepped out using the back door.

“I’ll fucking kill you!” Ariel threatened as I placed her on the passenger seat of my car and strapped her in place. “I swear to God, Angelo, I’ll kill you if you-”

“I’ll fucking kill you, if I see you with another man, tadpole.” I said in seriousness as I got into the driver’s seat. “I’ll fucking kill you.”

“You have no right-” She yelled.

“I have every goddamn right baby.” I said composedly. “Every fucking right on you, I’ll kill you before I kill the mother fucking bastard who put his hands on you.”

“You’re a monster.” She hissed, her baby brown eyes coming back to life from the whatever high she was in. “A goddamn monster in the flesh!”

“Damn right I am.” I said.

---

AUTHOR’S NOTE

😭😭 ignore me typo and weird ass grammar in this chapter. I’ll edit it around tonight. Promise. We might have another update if I can manage. But idk. I am hopeless.

Lemme knu if y’all like Angelo’s POV. Smh.

-November.

05

Angelo, almost dragged me out of the car once we stopped in front of my apartment complex.

I waited for him to leave with his car, crossing my arms over my chest, feeling a tad bit light headed from the effects of speed that I took to give my settled down libido a nudge.

Right. It was an asshole move on my part.

“Are you going to lead the way or do I have to carry you, tadpole?” He says retrieving that small overnight bag from the car boot that is ever present.

“You’re not coming inside.” I spat. “I don’t want you to.”

“Baby you don’t?” He asked in a child like voice, his lower lip protruding to show a fake put. “Get your ass moving, Ariel.” He ordered. “We’re not having a scene here.”

“There is no car park.” I said untouched by his commanding tone. “You have to leave.”

“Right.” He said holding his bag through the loops so it now rested on the crook of his elbow and picked me up, putting me over his shoulder.

“You bastard!” I shrieked kicking my legs, hoping it hits his cock at least. “Let me down, you fucking asshole!”

“Quiet.” He warned as he climbed up the stair case. Two at a time, all the while as I punched his back as hard as my small fists could.

I am not a violent person. Blaire is.

She’s ready to punch and kick, but I am- a disappointment.

In third floor, Angelo let me slid down his body  and used the spare key to unlock my door.

“Why do you still have that?” I spat finding the key to my apartment in his bunch of keys. “I want that back.”

“No can do, baby.” He said pushing the door open stepping inside like he owns the place. What a cocky little bastard. “Emergencies.”

“Fuck you.” I spat.

“That you love to.” There was not sarcasm or sass in his tone.

It was impassive and plain. Bland.

Mad. He’s mad.

Ignoring the huge man inside my apartment, I walk into my bedroom slamming the door behind, shake out my hair and breathe deeply.

I hated people in my house. Period.

I hated Angelo in my house.

It was as if he was evading my privacy, more then any thing.

I hated him in my house then and I hate him in my house now.

I undo the button of the suit jacket that covered my body, and shrugged it on the floor.

My body reeked of sweat and the guys cheap perfume.

Stepping into the shower, I waiter for the water to heat up and shampooed my hair, scrubbed my body red, removing any trace of the man I was with before and used heavy smelling body wash to make myself smell like me not like sweat and some cheap ass cologne.

After my shower, I wrapped myself in my black linen robe and used the towel to dry my hair, took my supplements and birth control and a paracetamol to steady the pumping ache on my head.

And I still had to pick up Coco from next door and feed the mutt.

Right. He must be hungry and ready for his dinner.

I walked into the kitchen, almost forgetting that I had company.

Ignoring, Angelo sitting on the kitchen chair, a couple of papers spread out in front of him while he talks on his phone in rapid Italian, I pick up Coco’s water bowl and fill it and add food to his food bowl and leave it to their place.

“Where are you going?” Angelo asks holding the mouthpiece of his phone. “Tadpole! Ari-”

I slam the door rolling my eyes.

What am asshole.

Padding toward the door opposite to mine I knock twice.

The door opens revealing the house owner. “Hello Mister Lombardy.” I smiled.

“Ariel.” He smiled. “Let me get Coco, he’s been cuddling with Jess, since he fell asleep.”

“Sure, thank you, Mister Lombardy.” I said.

A second later I heard Coco’s yapping voice as he ran before my neighbor and cuddled my leg with his head.

“I am sorry, I was late today and wasn’t home last night.” I apologize picking up my yapping corgi in my arms. “Goodnight, Mister Lombardy.”

“Good night, Ariel.” The man said with a small smile lingering on his lips as he stepped indie the cocoon of his house. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Sure.” I said walking back to my apartment but Angelo was leading against the open door frame.

“I am not sure I appreciate his tone and eyes toward you.” He pointed out. “His eyes were going places they shouldn’t be.”

I sighed placing Coco on the doorway. He seemed uncomfortable to see a new person in his home.

I rubbed him behind the ears to assure it was okay and he ran off to his dinner.

“I need you to stop seeing that man or whatever.” Angelo added.

“I am not seeing him.” Why the fuck am I defending myself.

What I do or do not do is none of his business.

“His son takes care of my dog.” I say pushing past him.

“I ordered dinner from the hotel.” He said taking his seat back on the chair. “Hope you’re alright with some French.”

I roll my eyes. Of course. French.

“Angelo-” I turn to face him. “Stop acting like nothing happened. A lot has happened and you ordering French from the Village inn won’t help mending anything.”

He sighs, dropping the pen into the stack of papers. “I am not trying to mend anything. I am trying to start new. You pushing every goddamn thing back.”

“Don’t you blame this on me!” I say. “Don’t you fucking blame this on me!”

“I am not blaming you, tadpole.” He says grabbing a hold of my arm, pulling me close to him. “I-”

“You what?” I hiss. “What do you want? Me to offer you on a golden plate so we can go back to whatever we were doing- fucking? Is that why you’re doing this? Making me food, taking care of me, pretending?”

He looks at me. Really looks at me.

Then sighs releasing my hand and going back to work.

Right. I think mentally.

Turn your face on me.

Like you always do.

I pushed my hair back and walked back to the bedroom.

Coco was curled on his doggie bed, fast asleep probably.

My dog is lazy.

I sat on my bed with my phone in hand, scrolled through Instagram for a while, read the news-

“Food is here.” I heard. He was leaning against the door frame. “Croissant casserole, onion soup, boursin and macaroons.”

The sound of macaroons and the lasts almost lingering in my mouth made me want to the table and gobble them goodness up.

He knows too much about me.

“I am not hungry.” I say impassibly and lay down on my side, phone still on hand.

I feel the bed dip beside me and he massages my scalp. “Not even the macaroons or the French apple tart?”

Dang it.

“Are you sure, tadpole?”

Fuck this.

I want then macaroons.

“I’ll get your plate.” He chuckles lowly getting up and walking to where the food where.

Asshole. 

I sat up with a huff and adjusted my linen robe, to make sure his eyes don’t wander about. As they always have a habit to.

Angelo walks in with two plates of food and a desert packet with the inn’s logo slammed on top.

He places the food on the bed and sits across from me.

The inn’s food was delicious, there was no doubt. Whatever they made, Japanese, Italian, French, Turkish, Indian- fingers licking goodness lingered in every taste.

But then again when chefs are from all over the world, you don’t expect nothing less.

There was a small bowl of thick onion soup with stuffed chicken rolls aka boursin and cheesy croissant casserole.

I snatched up my plate and dogged into the heavenly goodness.

This was better then the caponata Angelo made last night.

I mean he puts and effort to whatever he does. Even cooking. I like that about him.

Everything deserves an effort except Ariel.

Ariel doesn’t deserve ant explanation. No effort.

Ariel is just supposed to open her legs and keep Capo Bestone happy.

Ariel is not supposed to attend family parties with Capo Bestone because Ariel is a stripper.

Ariel can’t be seen in public with Capo Bestone because she is a stripper

Ariel doesn’t deserve to bear his kids because Ariel sells her body to please men.

Ariel is a whore.

“What’s wrong?” Angelo asked placing his plate beside him on the bed.

I bit my lip, fork in hand, trying not to let those pathetic tears escape.

Don’t cry.

A drop of tear lands on the plate, my hand shakes from the grip I have on the silverware.

“Ariel-” Angelo asks worried. “Baby- what’s-”

“Go away.” I whisper. “Just leave.”

“Baby why are you-”

“Just leave!” I said placing my plate on the bed. “Just go, just- go” I waved my hand toward the door. “It’s too much.”

“Tell me.” He says. “I’ll fix it. Whatever it is- I’ll fix it, tadpole.”

“Being my baby back.” I whispered.

So needy to fix everything aren’t you?

You want everything to be fixed, don’t you?“

“Ariel-”

“Bring our baby back, Angelo.” I said closing our distances, grabbing his collar. “Bring our baby back, fix it.”

He stays silent, looking in to my eyes.

“Fix it!” I yell slapping him across the cheek. “Fix it, being him back, damnit!”

“Ariel.” He urges. “Baby stop.”

“Fix it!” I cry pushing my small frame against him. “Bring him back, bring our baby back, undo that night, you said you’ll do whatever!”

“Shush.” He urges cupping my cheek. “Hush, it’s-”

“No it not.” I trembled. “It’s not okay, I can’t help but feel it, it’s not okay, you killed him!”

He hooks his hands under by bottom and brings me on his lap, one and cupping my head to his chest, he rocks me back and forth.

“You killed him.” I accuse. “I dream of him every night-”

“I am sorry.”

“You aren’t.” I say. “You aren’t sorry.”

“I am sorry, Ariel.” He whispers.

What’s he sorry for?

Is he sorry that he killed the child?

Or sorry that he doesn’t feel any remorse after ending his flesh and blood?

I fist his shirt and push my face on his chest, inhaling his smell.

“You okay?” He asks gently running his fingers through my hair.

I nod. I am not.

“I hate that I keep crying.” I whisper. “I never used to cry.”

“It’s okay, tadpole.” He sighs. “Shall I feed you now?”

I nod. If that makes it any better.

I turn on his lap as he picks up my plate and uses my fork to put morsel of food in my mouth, while I lean back in chest, smelling the Paco Rabanne on him.

“Is there a bottle of your perfume in your bag?” I ask taking another morsel in my mouth.

“I’ll leave it by your vanity.” He says.

I nod.

“Are we gonna have sex?” I ask as Angelo clears the plates away from the bed. “Are you going to fuck me tonight, Angelo.”

He frowns. “Why are you talking like that?”

“You don’t want to?” I said untying my robe, shrugging my shoulders so the linen glide down my shoulders.

Say no. I pray.

Show me I am not just a whore to you.

“It’s bizarre how you think that I’m here to fuck you.” He says as if he was disappointed. “Go to sleep, Ariel.”

I laid down on the bed, robe discarded on the floor, linen coverlet hiding my shame.

Angelo came in some minutes later, closed the blinds on the window, dimmed the lights and stepped into the bathroom.

I heard the shower running.

I woke up, from a faint sound or maybe a fraction of my dream being too disturbing. The blinds were still drawn.

The analogue clock said nine fifty. Cursing, I get down from the bed, butt naked run to the kitchen, fill Coco’s bowl water and his other bowl with food.

“Coco.” I holler for the mutt, he comes yapping nuzzling my feet until I get down and tickle his ears before jump into the shower, wash myself quick and get dressed for the ballet class.

When did he leave? I can’t help but think as put on my clothes.

Coco is done feeding when I am slipping my feet into the flats, grabbing the keys.

“Be good for me, Coco.” I say parting his head when I hand him to Jess, the seven year old who takes care of Coco.

“Thanks Jess.” I give him a hug. “Be good.”

“We will, miss Ariel, take care.” He waves me as I run out, hoping to get into the auditorium before it’s ten thirty.

---

Authors Note:

Had to delete the whole chap and republish it all over again. Lost you a votes and comments. lol. Let me know if y’all can see it full though.

-November

06

It was Friday. I have Wednesdays and Fridays off from the club. Usually I’d do over times in the club but today didn’t feel like one.

I wonder if Blaire is up for some lunch. Who’d I call to get to my girlfriend? I think as I walk out of the building with my bag on my shoulder.

I dialled the number that she called from that day. It rung.

“Hewow, Coralyn DiMariano, how can I help you?” The voice from the other end squealed. I bit my nail in nervousness.

“Donna, it’s me, Ariel.” I say. “I was wondering-”

“You want Blaire?” She asked. “She’s right here, stuffing her face. Here you go.” She says.

Jesus Christ. Her happy aura makes me nervous and scares me even more.

“Hey Bubbles.” Blaire answerers.

“I was wondering if you’re up for lunch-” I asked nervously. “We could go to this food bar nearby, I have coupons…”

“Lunch?” She asks. “Let me see if I allowed . I am a prisoner , if you must know. I’ll call you once I’ve run this with the boss .” She said.

I couldn’t help but feel some of her words were an attack to someone.

But she’s feisty. That mouth doesn’t know when to stop, honestly.

I walked back to the house, collected Coco, gave him lunch and washed myself in the bathroom.

Sitting in my bathrobe in front of my dressing table, I applied moisturiser and face cream.

Angelo didn’t leave the Paco Rabanne for me, like he said he would.

I hate him for that.

I want that perfume.

But buying it would cost me a year  salary from the dancing plus a kidney.

Right.

Asshole.

My phone rang. It was a different number then before.

“Hello?” I greeted.

“Hey babe.” Blaire chirped sounding breathy. “We can go lunch , where to? I’ll meet you there.”

I tell her where to meet me and can’t help but feel giddy that I’ll have a girl date after…

Well for the first time, minus that day in the estate.

I get dressed in a green white midi skirt with a side slit and short sleeved white blouse, pull my hair up in a messy pony and spray some mist to keep my look presentable as I shove my worn lip gloss, some money, enough go cover both our bills, my phone on my shoulder bag and slip my feet into my ballet flats, put Coco on a leash and lock my apartment door before leaving.

Blaire meets me at the food bar ten minutes after I take the table and order myself a chilled ginger ale.

I see a car stop before Blaire gets out from the passenger side and gives the driver a middle finger while she spews some shot like always.

Her actions make me shake my head as I take a sip of my drink.

“Hey.” She greets. “Sorry I am late-”

“Issa okay.” I say. “What do you wanna eat?” I ask pushing the menu to her.

“Your doggie is cute.” She purrs bending down scratching Coco behind his ears. “What’s her name?”

“It’s a he.” I point out. “Coco.”

“Ooh, Coco.” She cooes. “I want a doggie.”

“Get one.” I say. “Extremely helpful, will cure depression.”

She pats Coco one last time and sits up. I offer her sanitizer that she takes and rubs her palms. “So I have things to tell you.”

“Order first.” I say. “What do you want.”

“Cheese burger with salad on the side.” She said. “And fries.”

I nod and walk over to the ordering are and order the same for of us and cola to drink.

“So, I have to tell you something.” Blaire says pulling her top lip between her teeth.

“Go on.” I say sipping my ginger ale.

I swear if she says she read them Tess books again, I’ll hurl her loony ass out of the bar and eat them burgers alone.

I swear to God.

“I had sex with Roman.” She whispers the bit out as if scared somebody will hear.

I gulp my drink calmly. “Okay? And-”

“And what?” She whispers. “I had sex, I popped them cherry.”

“Is that good or bad?” I swear her expression is giving away nothing but creepiness.

“That’s good.” She whisper squeals. “But-”

“When did that happen?”

“The night, when we had lunch.” She says. “And then again the night when Angelo rudely hurled your ass home. We went over and over, Ariel. It was so-”

“Scary?”

“Sexy.” She sighs and leans her body back as of she was having an orgasm right here. “And then this morning too and right after you called when I said I had to run with the boss , he’s so big, Ariel, feels like he’ll kill me and fuck me awake again to kill me.”

I giggle and shake my head. “I am glad. Are you happy? Content?”

“Yeah. You could say so. Content, yep.” She agrees.

“I am glad.” I say.

I wanted to tell Blaire what happened with Angelo but I don’t.

It’s too messed up, I don’t want her to feel sad and ruin her bliss, talking about my issues.

“Do you have something to tell me?” She asks shifting. “I am sore as fuck.”

I smile shaking my head. “She old boring.”

“Then why did Angelo took you home that day, I asked Roman, I swear I was ready to kill him bit he didn’t give away anything. Kept me quiet other ways-”

“Nothing happened.” I lie. “Not really, I went home and a fell asleep.”

She looks at me frowning.

She doesn’t believe me.

“I don’t believe you.” She mutters. “You’re talking way less then you normally do, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Come on Blaire.” I giggle. “Tell me about your nightly errands.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “They can wait. You tell me, did he hurt you?”

I shake my head. “Angelo doesn’t hurt me.” At least not in that sense.

“Then what’s wrong?” She asks. A serving person brings our order and places it on the middle of the table.

“Tell me.” She urges. “Come on, did something bad happen?”

I shake my head. “I hate how Angelo doesn’t even recognize what happened, Blaire.”

She clasps my hand. “Go on.”

“He don’t even address the matter.” I add. “It’s like that night never happened to him. It doesn’t affect him like it does to me. And I don’t know where did anything went wrong, I-”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to address the matter.” She says. “Give him time? See where he is mentally.”

“He doesn’t even feel anything.” I add.

Blaire stays silent.

“That day when we had lunch, Angelo drove me to his home and at night we had sex- and last night he was over the top mad when he found me in the under ground bed chambers, he drove me home, we fought, I cried and that’s it. I haven’t seen him since last night-”

Blaire nods.

I stay silent.

“You realise that we both were having sex at the same time, right, approximately?” She points out, a smirk lingering on her lips.

I nod, grinning.

“That’s so dirty.” She giggles making me giggle.

“I know.” I agree.

Blaire and I parted ways at half past four in the afternoon after we got ice cream from a small shop, boba tea and checked out some thrift stores when her car finally arrived and she hugged me bye.

Blaire was a breath of fresh air mixed with the warmth of fire.

She made my mood better since last night.

I walked back to the apartment and slept away.

I need an afternoon nap to function so I slept till six and woke up from the knocking on my door and the bell ringing.

I saw Jess’s form waiting on the door, his school bag in his grasp.

“Hwy Miss Ariel.” The bit greeted.

“Hey Jess.” I smiled. “Whatchu doing?”

“We have a crafting. Can you help me? Can I being my stuff here, papa is working inside.”

“Sure.” I say opening the door wide for him go get in. “Do you need me to do something for you?”

“Nope.” He says. “Just the space.”

“Okay, bud.” I chuckle. “I’ll get you some snack and milk.”

“ ’Kay, miss Ariel.“ She says politely.

I pour some mini choco cookies, some crunches for him and add cookies and cream macaron from last night after heating them up on his plate. “Do you want your milk warm or cold, Jess?” I ask the boy.

“Cold, if you can”

Shaking my head, I pour some cold milk in his glass and take his snacks to him. “Here you go.”

“Thank you, miss Ariel.” He grins as he has his art papers and color pencils scattered about the floor.

Smart ass.

Coco joins Jess in a second yapping loudly as I take the time to do the laundry, clean and tidy up the house, clean the bathroom, scrub the floors with anti bacterial and put away the dried laundry and deep freeze chicken for breakfast.

It’s almost eight when Jess yawns, drained from his crafty project which wasn’t even half way through, cuddles with Coco and weird ass cartoon shows that was playing in the TV, three batches of snacks.

“Jess?” I call out slicing the chicken. “Go ask you papa if you can stay for dinner. I am making cream chicken.”

There was a commotion in the living room, Coco yapped and the sound of door opening and slamming shut.

“Jesus Christ.” I muttered pouring the marinate on the chicken and setting it as side to work on the yeast bread rolls.

“Papa says I can stay for dinner, Miss Ariel.” Jessy yells from the living room making me shake me head.

I baby sat Jess sometimes when his dad had to go out of the house, which was rare because he was a single father working as software engineer or whatever from home.

Jess was in summer break so it’s hardly any time I baby sit him anymore. It’s usually after noon and noon when Mister Lombardy goes out so Jess would stumble in for a nap or an afternoon of summer homework or cause a commotion with my mutt along the hallway.

By nine I was done with the dinner, by nine thirty Jess was done eating when his papa knocked on the door.

“Hello, Mister Lombardy.” I smiled when I saw him standing in the door way making a mental check on my dress.

I was wearing the same outfit from the outing with Blaire so it wasn’t inappropriate.

“Hello Ariel.” He smiled. “Jess?”

“Sure, he’s in the living room.” I say stepping back and letting him in.

Jess was dozed off in the couch cuddling Coco.

“He’s asleep.” I said. “I heard him ten seconds ago, I swear.”

Mister Lombardy laughed shaking this head. “I get jealous of the boy’s stamina to be honest.”

“I know.” I agree. “Do you… maybe want to eat? I made extra.” I offered.

“I could eat.” He said.

“Great.” I smiled. “I’ll get you a plate.”

We sat in the two chaired dining table on the dining x living room sharing the tray of bread rolls between us.

“This is great.” Mister Lombardy said ponying his fork in the plate. “Lovely, even.”

I flushed. “Thank you.”

He nodded. “We should do this often, maybe I can make you something you like, Ariel.”

I nodded, cheek resting on my palm, elbow balanced in the table.

“So what’s your favourite dish?”

“Caponata.” I say without a doubt. “If we’re talking Italian.”

“I can make you caponata sometime.” He chuckles.

“I still want to feed you, I made your favourite.

Caponata

and bread.“ His voice rang in my ears.

Couldn’t help but feel the chill of hypocrisy run down my spine.

There was nothing to feel like a hypocrite about. I thought.

Anybody can make Caponata.

It’s not rocket science.

It’s just vegetable.

“Are you alright?” Mister Lombardy asks. “I didn’t step out of the line did I?”

I shake my head. “No. It’s alright.”

“So- that man on your door last night-”

I look at him, frowning.

Off limits.

“Sore subject?” He asked feeling my discomfort.

“Personal.” I replied.

“Right.” He chuckled.

After Mister Lombardy finished eating he placed his plate on the kitchen counter while I dumped mine in the sink and offered him wine.

He declined saying he had to work the night and left with Jess.

I locked the door and took a calming warm body shower with my orange soap and went to bed, discarding my white linen robe on the floor, after checking the door lock and blinds on all over the apartment was close.

Coco curled up on his doggie bed and almost fell asleep instantly.

---

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Two things. 1. Whose POV do you think next chapter is?

2. What do you think will happen next chapter?

-November.

07

Ariel had two days off every week from the club and that was today. The first one was when she  lunch with Mama and mama Cora and Blaire.

Wednesdays and Fridays.

I steeped out of the car, parking it in the same place as last night and rose to my full height, walking inside the fairly decent apartment housing and to the third floor.

Her doormat was furry and blue with swirls of white. I used the spare key to open the door, inside it was dark.

“Tadpole?” I called. I haven’t seen Bubbles since I left last night.

There was no response, my hand reached to withdraw the Mark 23 from the waist band of my slacks as I moved toward the light switch and turned it on.

Everything was in place. Dirty dinner plate was sitting in the kitchen counter.

Shit. She ate already.

I sigh as I place the food container on the counter top and make my way to her only bedroom.

I need to catch a shower. Her water takes forever to warm up.

Pushing the door open, I find Ariel’s form occupying the iron headboard twin sized bed. Red linens covering her naked form. The tiny white robe on the floor.

Shaking my head, I picked her garment up and set it in the headboard, leaning down to place a kiss on her head.

She stirs.

“Angelo?” She whispers. “What-”

“Shhh.” I stroke her hair. “Go back to sleep. I just brought food.”

“I ate already.” She replies.

“I saw.” I say. “Go back to sleep, baby.”

“Okay.” She says. “You didn’t leave your cologne, last night.”

“I’ll leave it tonight.” I say. “I forgot.”

“Sure.” She mumbles turning to her side and going back to sleep.

I close the door, keeping sightly enough space to let the light from leaving room enter to the bedroom.

I enter the kitchen pulling my laptop from my over night bag that I carried hoping to get some work done before sunrise.

It was barely half past ten so I had quite some time-

I frowned.

There were two plates. One on the counter, one on the sink.

Two plates.

I grabbed a clean one from the cupboard and emptied half the contents of the food that I got from the inn.

I had the kitchens to pack me some lamb kebobs and Greek salad with bread.

Roman was mortified by my dinner order, because usually we’d have dinner in the office, drink and smoke while finishing up the late night works.

I placed my plate on the two chair dining table beside my laptop, when I saw the phone.

It was a sleek iPhone from the last year. In black.

Ariel used a rose gold, iPhone 6s.

This was the latest, so until she changed her phone-

Slaved by curiosity I picked up the sleek phone and pressed the home button.

Should have known, I should have.

The door bell rang in an annoying sound.

The device in my grip, I walked to the door and swung it open.

“Hey, uh-” the man stuttered.

He was about same age as mine, nicely built, fairly tall and fair.

“Left your phone?” I asked raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah man.” He chuckles when I hand him the device. “Thanks-”

“Don’t come here ever again.” I said plainly. “Don’t look at her, don’t fucking talk to her, don’t fucking think about her, or God knows I’ll kill you.”

The guy chuckled nervously. “Listen, I didn’t know she had a- a boyfriend, look man, it was just dinner, we had dinner-”

I push myself toward him. “I hate to repeat.” Grabbing his collar I straighten my spine. “Stay away from Ariel, or I’ll put all six bullets in your head, I see your eyes lingering on her chest again, I fucking pull them out and shove them down your fucking throat, you act all nice with her, I’ll make sure your pretty face is carved like a goddamn scarecrow.”

“Keep your threats to yourself man.” The guy pushes against me. “She’s an adult she can have dinner with whoever the fuck she wants with your being a pain in her ass.”

I pull my gun and place it against his temple. “Know who I am?” I ask. “Name’s Angelo Giovanni.”

I can see some of the color drain from his boyish face.

“Heard that name before, have you?” I smirk. “Then you surely know what I do.”

“I-” The guy sighs.

“Stay away from my woman.” I say. “I mean it-”

“Angelo.” I hear tadpole’s sweet voice.

Oh, you have some explaining to do, baby.

“Tadpole?” I asked turning my head. “Go to sleep.”

“Turn off the lights in the living room, what are you doing?” She asks.

“Yes, baby.” I reply. “I’ll put out the lights, go to sleep.”

I don’t her her for ten seconds and turn my head to mister neighbor.

“I don’t want to see you around her, clear?” I ask.

“Crystal.”

“Capo Bestone.” I add.

“Crystal, Capo Bestone.” He repeats

I lower my gun and tuck it on the waist band of my slacks stepping inside the apartment and shutting the door behind.

Inside the bedroom, Ariel was still on bed, her form moved away from the light coming from the living room.

“Are you sleeping, Tadpole?” I asked sitting down beside her.

“Yes.” She mumbles. “Go away. Go to your place. Stop coming here, I don’t like it.”

I stroke her bubblegum pink hair.

“I am not fucking you, Angelo.”

“But you’ll fuck your neighbour.” I say unable to keep my mouth close. “Huh, tadpole? Some thing you want to say?”

“I don’t have to justify my actions to you, Angelo.” She says defensive.

“Your body says otherwise.” I state watching the shift on her posture. It was tensed, rigid and ready to fight or flight.

“You’re an asshole.”

So she keeps repeating.

“How many women did you sleep with last year?” She asks turning her face so she can see me. But it’s dark. “Hm? Did I ever ask for a reasoning?”

“How many have you slept with?” I ask defensive. “Have I ever asked? I didn’t but now you doing these, your actions are just to spite me.”

“I’ve slept with nobody since last year, Angelo.” She utters. “Nobody. Did I expect the same for you? No. How many times did I see you with my eyes, fucking the club whores? Hm?”

“Tadpole.” Fuck, she doesn’t get to turn this on me.

“Angelo.” She mirrors my tone. “It’s my weakness that I cannot control myself around you, it’s my defect, I could walk away from any man who has been fucking me but walking away from you seems so damn hard.”

It’s good, isn’t it?

“I wish I could walk away, but I can’t.” She whispers. “Don’t you see that it hurts me so damn much?”

I keep silent.

“I wish you’d just try.” She adds. “Just a little bit.”

I kiss her.

That’s it. I just want her to shut up.

She moans in my mouth as I devour her with my lips, reluctant at first she slides her hands up my arms, feeling my muscles and loops them around my neck.

My clothing the only barrier between us.

Pulling away from her heavenly mouth, I rid of my clothing in a flash before putting my mouth on hers again, soft and slow this time, as I feel every little curve if her body.

My lips trail down her soft skin, latching on to every goddamn surface I court fit my lips into.

Her neck, her throat, the swell of her breasts, her sensitive nipples her stomach, I worship evert little skin with my lips, kissing, sucking, kissing and licking sweet spot before I bury my tongue on her oozing wetness.

“Angelo.” She breathes hands fisting on my hair. “Oh, Jesus.” Her hips lift of the bed, trying to meet my tongue with a rhythm of her own.

I lapped up, every little bit of essence she offered me, one of my hand caresses up her body, cupped her breast the other busied itself working on her clit, pushing two fingers inside.

“Angelo.” She cried, her voice desperate. I raised up my head to watch her face, it was peering down at me, her lip between her teeth, cheeks tinted with blood rushing through them. I gave her slit one last lick before capturing her mouth with mine.

“Taste yourself, tadpole?” I rasp working my fingers inside her, in and out, curling them in, hitting her sensitive spot. Ariel moans against my mouth as she closes up around my fingers.

“You want to cum baby?” I tease, my thumb pad stimulating her swollen, sensitive clit.

“Yes.” She rasps.

“Where do you want me, tadpole?” I asked burying my face in the crook of her neck, biting the tender flesh and suckling on the sweet spot as if it dripped honey and I didn’t want to waste a bit.

“Inside.” She ordered. “Now.”

I grinned, as my hand cupping her breast toyed with her sensitive nipple and the other hand lining my cock to her entrance.

“Is this what you want, tadpole?” I smirk against her akin, gently rubbing my shaft on her wet, slippery heat. “You want me inside of you.”

“Yes.” She answers throwing her head back as my assault on her neck continues.

I slowly enter her, her tight little pussy snuggling the swollen crown of my cock.

“Oh, Angelo!” Ariel cries. “Do it.”

I jerk my hips so I am inside her with one deep push.

“So full.” She mumbles her hands wrapping around my neck, legs going around my waist as I pull out and push deeper into her heat.

The bed hit the wall with squeaking and squealing noises, a proof of our heady activity.

Ariel keeps her head buried in my neck, kissing, butting suckling, marking me.

I love it.

“I am about to cum.” She warns. “Cum with me.”

I smirk as my pace changes, from slow and steady to fast and hard, pushing deep and deep in her with every thrust, hitting her cervix as she grips me like a vice.

“Jesus, God.” Ariel prays, her teeth sinking down on my shoulder as her body trembles, halting me, her muscles tighten around my cock, making me jerk and quiver, milking me.

“Oh baby.” I whisper dropping my weight on top of hers. Ariel’s teeth loosens from my shoulder causing it to sting.

My eyes fall in the nightstand.

I sit up, my cock slipping out from her heat, smearing our arousals n the bed, she winces.

Ariel’s eyes follow me.

She asses the moment for a second.

My gaze fixed at the small photo frame on her nightstand.

“That’s the first and last one I went to.” She cuts off the silence, Picking the baby blue colored raisin frame and handing it to me. “Almost six weeks.”

Why is she saying these?

I don’t need to know.

I don’t want to know.

There should be nothing to know about a…person that never existed.

I sit beside her, the objet still on my hand.

“See that dot?” She asks pointing at the black area.

There was a tiny dot, surely. Barely visible. You had to look closely.

“Yeah, there.” She repeats pointing her blue painted finger nail in the ultrasound photo. “That’s- that was ours.”

I wrap my free arm around her shoulder pulling her close to me. “I am sorry.” I say.

Because I have no explanation to provide her.

Thankfully my phone rings, in the living room.

I put the photo on the nightstand and get up to get my phone.

In fourth ring, I pick up and walk back to the bedroom.

“Roman?”

“The estate was ambushed.” He says without any sort of greeting. “Three soldiers dead, Salvatore.”

I sit on the edge of the bed, aware of Ariel shuffling with the sheets.

“Anybody hurt? Are you alright?” I asked frowning. “I don’t understand how…unless-”

“Someone squealed.” Roman completes. “I need you here. I’ve increased security and we’ll pay a visit to the soldiers home tomorrow, conduct a burial.”

“Is my mother there?” I asked already in the process to pull up my pants.

I see Ariel sitting up, the red linen coverlet pulled up to her chest, looking downright well fucked. But she doesn’t say or ask anything.

“Mama Alyssa is here, yes.” Roman confirms. “Surprisingly the bullets rained through my bedroom window, as if I was the only target.”

“I’ll be there in twenty, boss.” I said. “See you.”

Ariel sits up on the bed watching me get dressed. “Get dressed.” I order.

“Why?” She narrows her eyes at me.

“We’re going to the estate.” I say. “Move it.”

“I am not going anywhere with you.” She hisses. “Fuck you, one little fuck and you act like you own me-”

“Get dressed and move your ass.” I say. “I don’t have time, we have to go to the estate now.”

“No way in hell-”

That’s it.

I wrap the coverlet around her so she’s covered and carry her out of the house to the car, out her into the passenger seat, turn on the child lock and close the door to make a detour to gather my belongings.

After I have put my stuff in the car boot, I slip into the drivers seat next to a sulking Ariel.

“You’re a fucking, asshole.” She cusses. “An insensitive bastard who cares about nobody but himself. A manipulative manic and goddamn murderer.”

I sigh. And we’re back at point one.

“You left my dog.” She point out as we are about to back up from into the highway.

Jesus Christ.

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Ho w do you like this chapter? Lol. I wrote this before I wrote chapter six but then I thought I should give y’all a reason to jump into this.

Smh. Idk, if it turned out good or nah, I’ll edit the typo and bad grammar soon. Byes.

-November.

08

Angelo had to make a detour to get Coco and finally stopped in front of the pent house building not parking his car.

As always. Asshole.

“You said we were going to the estate.” I point out.

“I am going to the estate.” He says killing the ignition. “You’re staying in the penthouse suite, with your mutt, where I know you’re safe and no goddamn neighbor is developing twelve year old crushes in you.”

I roll my eyes at his abnormal reasoning. “I want to see Blaire.”

“You’ll see her when we’ve had enough closure about the ambush.” He plainly says.

“But I want to see her now.” I say more forcefully.

“Get out of the car, tadpole.” He sighs. “Don’t get on my nerve.”

“Right.” I huff rolling my eyes.

Angelo helps me and Coco to get out of the car before I grab ahold my mutt’s leash and wait for the private elevator to cascade down in the lobby.

“There will be guards positioned inside and out.” He says as he taps the buttons pressing a code and his fingerprint on the panel after we step into the elevator.

“You won’t be working for a few days at least.”

“So I am basically your prisoner. Your puppet, perhaps.” I say.

“Ariel.” Angelo sighs. “We were fine thirty minutes ago, we had sex, we- we talked about-” He sighs. “Look, baby we were okay and now we are back to point one.”

“We talked about the what?” I ask turning to face him.

What a horrible person.

He can’t even say baby. Our baby.

As much as he wants to deny it.

“About the baby?” I ask. “Why is so hard for you to address him, Angelo?” I whisper.

The elevator pings open bringing the arranged and tidy penthouse to our view.

I step into the marbled floor, bare feet, body covered in red linen coverlet, hair a mess.

“Go to sleep.” Angelo says standing before me, pushing my hair back behind my ears. “It’ll be late for me. Maybe early morning.”

I sigh.

We were back on point one alright.

And we aren’t going anywhere from point one until he realises what a cunt he has been all this time.

I sigh and pad toward the bedroom, Angelo following behind me, Coco on my heels.

“Where will Coco sleep?” I ask once inside the bedroom.

“I have some spare blankets on the bottom rack of the utility closet.” Angelo says. “Make a makeshift bed for the night, I’ll get him a doggie bed, tomorrow.”

I know you won’t.

I know you’ll forget.

“I promise.” He says gauging the doubt in my eyes. “Go to bed, baby. I’ll see you.”

I won’t see you till you need sex, Angelo. I want to say but refrain from ruining my mood more then it already was.

Angelo leaves after cupping my cheeks and placing a possessive kiss in my mouth that almost brought me to my knees.

“Just you and me.” I said to Coco sitting down on the bedroom floor and scratching his fur, patting his head.

Thankfully he has had dinner around ten so he wasn’t hungry and he could go to sleep.

I drop the linen coverlet from my body and fold it to a smaller size to make a bed for him so he can slip between the middle and use the other part as a blanket.

Lazy mutt. I thought patting his head one last time before walking into the bathroom. I find a new toothbrush and use it to brush my teeth while fingerings the items on his shelves.

Shaving cream, aftershave that smelt of cloves and something fresh, cufflinks from the night before, a small earpiece, a bottle of mouthwash. A small glass holding one brush and a tube of paste.

After gurgling and washing my brush, I place it in the glass and use the rolled up face towel to pat my mouth dry, looking at my dead reflection.

I need some good old sleep.

I put the towel on the sink and stray to his closet that was adjacent to the bathroom.

Picking up a white silk shirt from his collection,I shrug it on. Only closing the middle three buttons as I walk back to the bedroom.

Using his hair brush, I comb my hair until they’re untangled, use a bit of moisturiser on my hands and face, ready for bed.

I search the drawers of the dressing for the cologne that has me so obsessed, finally finding the bottle behind the moisturizer bottle.

I spray a tiny puff on my wrist, rubbing them together as the minty and woody smell engulfs my senses. I smile to myself.

Luxury of ze mafia. As Blaire says.

I spray a little on the collars, feeling satiated, I skip back to the bed falling face down in the surface.

I feel sexy.

Sighing I look up at the semi reflective ceiling.

This pent house has an indoor pool along with the master bedroom on the top floor. The only other room this place has is Angelo’s personal study.

Sighing I get up from the bed, walking out of the bedroom, climbing down the stairs.

The whole house was dark, lights turned off, just the light from the foyer giving out a silvery glow making the darkness more dark.

Walking into the open kitchen area, I retrieved a bottle of cold water from the fridge and poured a glass full, sipping the cold liquid keeping my back against the stove counter.

“Miss Ariel.” I heard a male voice making me look up.

Suited head to toe in black, built like a body builder in the large side he stood with his hands clasped over his crotch. His chin covered in beard and head bald.

“Yes?” I asked, composing myself from the shock.

What the fuck?

“You are supposed to be in bed, Signora.” The guy drawled.

Creep.

“And who are you supposed to be?” I ask taking a long sip of my water.

“Your personal guard.” He said. “I’m supposed to keep you-”

“Protected.” I finished his sentence for him placing the glass on the sink.

“Sí, Signora.” He nodded.

“I appreciate your service Mister personal guard, but it would be nicer of you don’t appear from the shadows like a creep next time.”

“Pardonami, Signora.” He says nodding.

This is sick.

I don’t want to be here.

“Let me know if your Capo Bestone calls.” I say in a final tone before moving my ass and walking back to the bedroom, locking the door.

He was creepy.

Straight up creepy.

Using the house phone, I dial Angelo’s cell number that I had memorized.

On the last ring the phone gets answered.

“Angelo?” I say, curling the wire on my finger, sounding downright panicked.

“Tadpole?” He asks. “What’s wrong baby?”

“Did you assign a personal guard to me?” I ask. “I don’t like it, he’s creepy.”

He stays silent for a while. “In what way?”

“I don’t know!” I shriek. “I don’t like this, I want to go home.”

“I’ll be with you in twenty, baby.” He sighs. “Calm down, tadpole.”

“That man looks like goddamn serial killer.”

“Because he is.” He says. “Now calm down.” Angelo adds, I hear the purr of his car. “Lay down on the bed, baby.”

“What?” I frown. “I am not having phone sex with you. That’s disgusting.”

“I am not asking you have phone sex, goddamnit.” He yells, annoyed. “Just lay down, I’ll be there.”

“Don’t you fucking dare hang up on me.”

“I can’t talk and drive, baby.” He sighs.

“You can talk and drive if you can drive when high.” I roll my eyes. “I am laying down.” I whisper as I lay down on the bed, feeling a weird kind of warmth and spark run through me.

“Jesus.” I mutter but thankfully Angelo doesn’t reply.

My free hand trace my bottom lip, unconsciously before the finger tips slide down to my chin, my throat, the swell of my chest, my hardened nipple peaking from underneath his silk shirt.

“Angelo?” I whisper on the recover not getting a response.

My hand traces patterns on my stomach before cupping my heat fully.

I sigh as I feel the heat radiating of my core on my hand. I use one finger to trace my swollen folds with the the feather light touches before my fingers land on my wetness.

With my index finger I smear the wetness around my heat, eyes closing, breathing laboured as I tease my clit with two fingers lightly before moving to my entrance.

Circling the small opening I move back to my clit, teasing, taunting, rubbing.

“Oh Angel.” I gasp as I feel the stimulations take over me, toes curling, heels pressing on to the soft mattress, hips raising up as I keep rubbing my clit, feeling the familiar numbness on the lower part of my body.

I feel the tips of my ears turn hot from the assault I was conducting on myself before the knot on my stomach broke, shaking my legs, hips reaching up to find whatever fictional force there was to get a grip on.

“Oh, Jesus.” I sighed gasping and closing my eyes.

“I am here, tadpole.” Angelo’s voice comes through the speaker. “I’m riding up.”

“Okay.” I sigh.

“You alright?” He asks.

I bring out my fingers from the curtain of his shirt, feeling the slippery wetness. “I am fine.” I answer.

“Alright.” He says ending he call.

I place the receiver on the holder and use a tissue from the night stand drawer to wipe my fingers clean and rub sanitiser on my hand that I also found on the drawer.

A minute later I hear the door knob jiggle.

Getting up from the bed, I pad toward the door opening it back.

Angelo stands there, mess.

The top buttons on his shirt undone, always nicely styled hair messy from being using it as a stress reliever.

“You-” He breathes looking at me.

“What?” I ask frowning, but I don’t get an answer instead he slams his lips on mine, bending down to grab my hips, I jump slightly wrapping my legs around his waist and arms around his neck.

Because kill me, my body acts in it’s own around him.

“So sexy.” He rasps against my mouth. “In my shirt, smelling like me, baby. In my bed. So damn sexy. So damn mine.”

We’ll have to talk about the mine part.

I flush as he lowers me on to the bed, frantically undoing his fly, his hard cock springing out as leans down, capturing my lips with his.

I spread my legs wrapping them around his waist, tongue massaging his as one of his hand feels and caresses my skin, touching, teasing, feeling every part of me pushing himself inside my dripping heat.

“Oh Angelo.” I gasp grabbing the back of his hair and looking up at the reflective ceiling.

“You missed me baby?” He asks burring his face on the crook of my neck.

I shake my head in disagreement to his question. Angelo chuckles. The heady low voice vibrates my skin.

“She missed me, tadpole.” He whispered. “All wet and ready for me, she is.”

I bite my lips to stop the moan from escaping as Angelo pulls put and slowly slides back in.

“You like that?” I could feel him grin against my neck. He repeats the motion again, rotating his hips pulling out and sliding back to my warmth.

A gasping noise leaves me, insides flustered, needy.

“Fast.” I demanded raising my hips to meet him with my own.

Angelo chuckled keeping his achingly slow pace steady.

“Angelo!” I moaned. “Please.” I begged balls of my feet pressing hard against his firm bottom.

“Let me feel you, baby.” He whispered. “I want to feel you, tadpole.”

“But-” I sighed, head falling back into the pillow, eyes opened looking up at the ceiling, I run my hands over his firm back, feeling his hot skin.

Angelo fucks me, painfully slow, I feel all of him inside me, caressing, touching.

“I am close.” I whisper feeling the so familiar bubbling ache on my lower stomach.

“I know, baby.” He sighs, his breathing laboured. “Me too.”

Angelo places his mouth on mine as we both reach for our climax, drinking my sighs and gasps before they have a chance to leave my chest.

Sighing against my lips, Angelo pulls his girth out of me, our mixed arousals dripping in the bed.

“I love you this way.” His whisperer, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, cupping my cheek “Lovely, you are.”

I snuggle my cheek against his hand as his lips pull up in a wolfish smirk. “Now turn, baby. On your hands and knees. I want to fuck you till you cry out.”

And so I did turn, on my hands and knees.

Angelo wraps his wrist around my hair pulling my head back making me gasp and leans in for a kiss at the same time pushing his pulsing erection inside my heat and fucks me.

Till I cry out. Pretty sure I cried out rest of the night after that.

---

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

HEHE! you likes this chapter? Let me knu if you like this and want another today.

-November.

09

I’ve had sex for enough times before last night.

Like, a lot times before last night.

I don’t remember being this sore except the night I lost my virginity.

I felt like my legs weighed a thousand kilo each as I tried to move them slightly enough as getting down from bed.

As much as I hated the feeling that took over me, I also loved the throbbing ache between my legs a reminder of activities last night.

It isn’t normal.

I arranged the pillow against the head board and leaned against the fluff and grabbed the other pillow to put it under my knee with grave difficulty.

Huffing I gave up.

I need pain relief.

What a monster. I thought mentally as the images from last night flashed in my head.

I winced from embarrassment.

My body had been bend in all sorts of position, Angelo went places inside my body that nobody ever visited.

Not even himself.

Possessed by some monster he was.

I kept coming like train in every three minutes from his assault.

Successfully fucked through the whole night, I laid awake as the first rays of sun hit my face.

Angelo took a shower around six thirty and has been missing since.

Morning after pill, where you at?

I was hungry, I was tried, I was ache-y, I was dirty.

I needed a warm shower and some food in my stomach.

The door of the bedroom opened and a suited Angelo walked in with a bag labelled as the village inn hotel.

“Baby you up, already?” He asks with a small smile plastered to his face.

This mg ghost sitting here wanting food.

I huff.

“You okay?”

“I am hungry.” I snap. “I need food, my whole body is sore, you fucking monster!”

“Right.” He says shaking his head and sits across from me on the edge of the bed, a hand resting on my upper thigh, gently caressing. “I went to the inn to get you food.”

“At six thirty?” I ask.

“I had some work-”

“Did you see Blaire?”

“Yes.” He says. “She’s fine.”

“I want to see her.”

“Okay.”

Just like that?

“How about you meet her for an early lunch at the inn? I’ll have somebody drive you. Sounds good?” He asks.

I nod.

Angelo pats my thigh leaning forward placing a kiss in my lips. I don’t give him back the affection.

“I’ll run you a bath.” He says getting up, the bag resting on the bed.

It’s good food.

I snatch the bag and rest the warm thing on my lap and pull out the plastic container lifting off the lip, as delicious smell evade my nostrils.

I grin as I look at the food like it was heaven.

Now that I think, my cream chicken from last night lacked the good taste.

I grabbed the plastic fork stabbing into the mini sausage and put it in my mouth almost moaning at the taste.

I love this.

Angelo walks out of the bathroom, his suit jacket shrugged off, sleeves of the shirt pushed back to reveal his forearms.

“Tastes good?” He asks taking his seat back on the edge of the bed.

I nod putting more into my mouth.

Angelo pushes my hair back tucking the unruly strands behind my ears.

“Did you find any closure about the estate attack?” I asked with a mouthful.

He nods. “We did.”

I knew that of Angelo doesn’t volunteer any information in his own, there is no way in hell I could get that out of his stomach.

No matter what I bribe him with. Even sex would fail.

So I save myself the hassle.

“There wasn’t some major damage was there?” I ask.

“No.” He says. “I informed you ballet school that you took a vacation for a while-”

“But if the trouble is solved why can’t I go back?” I ask. “You said it had closure.”

“Because we have any closure doesn’t mean we have the matter sorted, tadpole.” He says. “And I am selfish, I wouldn’t want to risk you.”

Wow.

Liar.

“Whatever you say Angelo.” I put my for fork down. “I neither have the energy or mood to fight with you, I did enough.”

“Then don’t fight me.” He says cupping my cheeks. “Don’t fight me, baby.”

“Weird.” I chuckle dryly. “All I want is to fight you but I can’t help but loose myself around you, I wish it didn’t have to be this way, I wish the first night we fucked, we parted ways and never looked back, at least- I would have been happy and healthy.”

Angelo sighs and leaves my cheeks. “I might not be here tonight.”

I look at him in silence.

Is he for real?

After last nights panicking on my part, how can he even think to leave me alone in this house with creepy ass guards.

“Somebody will go get your stuff from your apartment.” Angelo says finally undoing the rolls of his sleeves and walking into the bathroom to retrieve his suit jacket and leaves without so much of a goodbye.

What a selfish prick. I think as I stare at the closed door.

After I finish the contents of the lunch, I walk, achingly slow toward the bathroom and slip myself into the tub.

It wasn’t a bubble bath or anything. I doubt if Angelo has anything that makes bubbles but it does smell like citrus salts.

After the warm water soothes some of the pain between my legs, I wrap myself in a towel and brush my teeth using the brush I used last night and use the silk robe hanging at the bathroom door to cover my shame before walking out and down to the living room.

Coco was asleep on his new doggie bed and I have no idea if he was fed or not.

Damn, kill me if my dog needs to eat.

“Signora?” The hear the voice from last night.

Turning, I come in face to face with the man who was supposedly my guard.

Weird.

“Hey.” I nodded, crossing my arms over my chest. “Did you know if Coco was fed-”

“He was given food, yes.” The man says in a clipped tone. “The good bag is in the bottom cabinet, if you’d wish to feed him more.”

I nodded and turned back to look at my mutt, curled up in his blue doggie bed, sleeping.

Lazy ass.

He was only a baby at barely one year old, my little Coco. I pat his head and he cowers tucking his head between his paws and snores away.

“When would like the car ready for your outing, Signora Ariel.” I hear.

“At one, please.” I mumbled. “And- would you be kind to have someone pick up my clothes from the apartment?”

“Your belongings are in the way, as we speak, Signora.” He says.

“Thank you.” I said standing up with a sigh.

The guard nods and walks away to wherever as I walk into the kitchen, for a bottle of cold water to quench my thirst.

A quarter to one, the car halted at the parking if the village inn as the bald bearded man got out of the driver’s seat and opened my door for me, even though I am capable of doing that on my own.

“Thank you, Bertie.” I smiled at the guy as I got down with Coco on my arms and placed him on the floor.

He was called Alberto Ricci. Or as I wanted to call him, Bertie.

Turned out he wasn’t a creep. Why? He loves classical, music.

The one I dance ballet to.

I mean, creeps don’t like that.

“Your welcome, Signora.” The man nodded without a smile as a valet walked to the pair of us.

Bertie handed him the keys to the underground car park as we made our way to the dining area, stopped in the middle by a worker.

“I am sorry, ma’am but pets aren’t really allowed-”

“Capo Bestone’s lady, miss.” Bertie answered for me.

“Right, the women dressed in navy suit-skirt stepped away as Bertie followed behind of me as I spotted Blaire on of the chairs.

“Coco!” She squealed getting up and bending to scratch the mutt’s ears and rub his head. “I misses you little pup.”

Blaire sat back up as Bertie took Coco and walked to another table.

“You have a pinch in your arse to” Blaire pouts. “I don’t like him. Looks scary, downright serial killer.”

“Are you okay?” I ask. “You aren’t in shock or something are you, babe?”

“Nwah.” Blaire waves me away. “I ain’t getting shocked cause some cock sucker decided oh what fun it would be to rail them bedroom windows with bullets. Asshole.”

A waiter delivers our appetizers with dips.

“Somebody in your place would have cried and yelled and- you know act.” I ask to know if she’s really in shock or just she has a screw loose in general.

“Oh, I am in shock, alright.” Blaire huffed grabbing a wonton and dipping it into the dip and biting it. “I can’t wait to get a hole of them, I swear Bubbles, I’ll pull out them cocks from them worthless nutsack and shove their useless bananas down them throat.”

I winced at the vulgar representation of her words.

“What?” She huffed. “I swear Roman is such a pussy  I wanted to rail their assholes but he was adamant I was acting loony and I should stay down or I’ll get shot, what a cunt.”

“Right.” I nodded picking a cracker for myself and biting into the crunchy goodness. “You’re angry.”

“Oh I am angry alright, ruined a perfectly good orgasm they did, shitless assholes.”

“Tell me bout you.” Blaire said taking another crunchy from the basket. “Did Angelo stick his monster dick in the butt?”

“No.” I crinkle my nose in disgust.

“Love me some ana-”

“Don’t finish it.” I threaten playfully, embarrassed how her mouth knows no bound in a room full of people. “God Blaire, you’re so dirty.”

“You love my dirtyness.” She wiggles her eyebrows.

“Damn right.” I nodded.

“I heard you had dinner with your motherfucking neighbor.”

“Where did you hear that?” I asked frowning.

I mean if I heard it from somewhere else, I would be paranoid.

Then there is Blaire.

“Might have eavesdropped on Devil-o and Roman.” She shrugs. “His exact words of outburst was she goes on having fucking dinner with her motherfucking goddamn fucking neighbor.”

I shake my head. “It was just dinner, besides who I eat and do not eat with is none of his business.”

“He dumb, he don’t understand that.” Blaire nods as pur lunch plates arrive with cold water as drink. “I want our chocolate milk on the rocks with squirty cream dates back.” She pouts looking at the colorful food.

“Me too.” I nod. “I don’t know when that will be. I hate this imprisonment, even though it’s been one night.”

“I don’t blame you, Angelo sounds like a possessive maniac.”

“You have no idea.” I sigh.

After our food we get Tirmisu desert with them lady fingers dipped in coffee.

I love tirmisu.

“I swear, you Italians know how to eat and how to feed.” Blaire said with a mouthful of desert. “I can’t stop eating and at this rate, I’ll get filled with them fat.”

I chuckle. “You’ll be fine.”

Blaire pouts.

“What are you doing when you get home?” Blaire asks.

“I don’t have anything to do really.” I shrug. “I am alone in the penthouse, except from Bertie, he minds his own business and Coco, he’s lazy.”

“I wanna go back to the club, honestly.” Blaire says. “At least I’d see people, it’s just me on the top floor, I didn’t see Roman or a soul today, Donna Coralyn and her husband went back to Rome last night, I miss her.”

“Awe, babe.” I whine.

“I dunno, I just want out of this posh place.” She whines. “I mean the food is good, but the employees are kind of mean.”

“Don’t worry bout them.” I say nodding.

“Yeah.” Blaire nods. “Irrelevant.”

I nod.

Damn right

“I heard there is a private pool area here.” Blaire whispers. “Think we can hang out tomorrow at the pool area, can you ask Devil-o to see if he’ll let you.”

That would take some work. “Yep.” I grin. “Definitely. I love pool!”

“Yeah.” She grins. “We can order expensive cocktail and snacks and put the bill on Roman’s tab.”

We do a fist bump.

---

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

I’LL be back to edit. Lol. I got study. Byes.

-November.

10

I stood before the kitchen counter, reading out he the recipe for the second time, re-reading the process before turning to the stove and beginning my cooking.

Vegetable Antipasto plate with an eggplant dip sauce, stuffed shells with marinara with turkey meatballs cooked along with it and piadina with Tortellini soup.

“Hey Bertie.” I smiled looking at the man who was sitting in the living room sofa on his phone.

“Sí, signora?” He asked swiftly walking over to the kitchen.

“Can you get on the phone with Capo Bestone and kindly inform him that I am making dinner?” I smile.

“Signora, I don’t think he’ll be coming over to the penthouse-”

“Call him.” I gently order. “Tell him, I am making dinner. I’ll be done in fifteen minutes.”

Bertie sighed and tapped his phone. “I’ll get him on the call, signora.”

I nodded. “Will you be staying for dinner.”

“If Capo Bestone comes over, I’ll leave you alone.” The man smiled tight lipped.

“Then I’ll pack you dinner.” I smiled.

I think I catch a hint of smile on the stern man’s face but it quickly disappears as he walks back to the living room.

I finish the bread and keep the rest plated dishes in the oven to keep it warm and put Bertie’s share on a plastic container so he can carry it home or wherever he stays.

“I could get used to this.” I hear Angelo’s voice. Turning, I see his well built form leaning against the kitchen pillar. “You look good.”

“Why, thank you, Capo Bestone.” I purse my lips. “Would you like to eat first or freshen up?”

“I’d shower.” He says. “Alberto is dismissed for the night.”

“Well that’s lovely.” I say. “I packed him food.”

After Angelo retrieves to the shower, I give Bertie a goodbye wave and hand him his food container and tell him to buy some hood wine on the way home.

Meanwhile, I set up the table with placemats, silverware, bring out a bottle of dry white from the fridge and place two wine glasses along with water on the table, finally taking off my apron and placing it on the counter, pulling my hair out of the clip and shaking my small mane.

Angelo joins in when I am pulling out the already set up plates from the oven.

“Smells heavenly.” He says pausing on the way to his chair to grab my chin, tilt my face back to seal a owning kiss on my mouth. “Makes me hungry.”

I roll my eyes mentally.

Blaire owes me. Big fucking time, she does.

Angelo was dressed in a fitted grey T-shirt, cotton white pajama and the towel he used to dry his hair hanging from his neck.

I place the bowl and saucer of soup sided with bread in front of him along with the main dish and place the appetizer plate in the centre of the table.

“It’s been some time you’ve cooked for me.” He saying picking up his soup spoon and dipping into the bowl. “I rather love you putting a tiny effort on us, Ariel.”

“As I love you putting a micron of effort on us, Angelo.” I say masking my insult with a smile. “But- sadly I’ve been searching for your efforts, I don’t find it.”

“Are we fighting again, Ariel?” He sighs putting the spoon on his saucer. “If you’ve already planned out the end of our dinner, forgive me but, I am not interested ending up being the centre of your madness.”

“We are not fighting.” I reassure. “Don’t worry.”

“I hate to fight, Ariel.” He says reaching for the hand that rested on the table.

I debate of I should move mine away, but I let him hold it nevertheless.

“I hate to fight to, Angelo.” I whisper. “But you make it so hard.”

He sighs.

“I wish you’d just talk.” I add. “Just acknowledge that we- this-” I gesture between us. “It’s not okay, it’s not normal.”

He sighs.

“We don’t say I love yous or stay whenever the other one gets up in the morning, we skirt around our issues, we don’t talk about anything, we just- fuck.” I say.

He stays silent.

“I lost a baby.” I whisper. “The only remains of him I have is a damn ultra sound- and you.” I whisper out, tears threatening to leak out of my eyes. “I know it wasn’t how it was supposed to be, we weren’t seeing each other, we barely liked each other, there was no love, no settling down, no family, no nothing between us but you can’t deny that of was your flesh, Angelo.”

“I am not doing this, Ariel.” He says wiping his lips with the napkin and dropping it on the table. “I am done, I knew coming here was a bad idea.”

“Just say once, you’re sorry that you hurt to.”

“Fine.” He sighs. “I am sorry. I hurt as well.”

I break down crying after his emotionless, careless apology.

Angelo leaves the dinner table.

Like always.

I push my plate away, folding my arms on the table, bury my head between them, and cry.

“Tadpole.” I hear his voice. Gentle and soothing. “Baby-”

“Go away.” I whisper. “Leave me alone.”

He does.

Like always.

Like every damn time.

I dry my eyes, refusing to be a damsel and put the food in the fridge pad toward the guestroom downstairs and make the bed for myself, turning off the light, I lay down.

Sleep doesn’t come to me.

I keep replaying our conversation from tonight. Over and over.

How cold and distantly he said he was sorry and he hurt.

Why is it so hard to accept for him?

Why?

I bite my lip, blinking the tears away from my eyes, a hand subconsciously landing on my stomach.

Silent.

How I wish life was different right now.

I am not materialistic person. I have no care for extreme money, just enough to get my days going.

My dreams were simple since I realised what love is. Even though I’d portray a strong person to the world, I knew what I was on the inside.

A softie. A hopeless romantic at heart. Hearts and flowers was what I wanted.

I’ve always imagined myself, married, staying at the least crowded part of the city in small but big enough house to call it a happy place. I sit on my office and write away hopelessly sob-romantic dramas.

I’d have a loving husband who’d come home for dinner and play with the kids before I set their table and after our dinner we’d talk about our day over wine and songs and kisses and bury ourselves in our love.

Some people will show their displeasure over my dream, some will laugh and curse me saying I was degrading myself as a women. That’s the thing, people judge.

To me, my dream was my happy place.

Being grown up in a very unhealthy and unhappy home void of any love but money, I realised, the idea of love was different to every other people.

My mother was- is a famous fashion designer. She spent all her days working for her own company and paid no heed to my development and growth. I grew up taken care of, by different nannies at different day, nullified of any touch of love and care.

My dad is a businessman, working day and night for his factories, sealing deals, earning fat money.

The only time my mother and father was active as parents in my life is when I danced.

As a young dancer of both famous and rich parents, I nailed some pretty big shows.

My teacher starred to put me to more work watching my success. I gladly took it because it earned my mother’s and father’s attention.

At fourteen, I was titled as a ballerina. At fourteen, I completed most of the dance shows and programs and competitions all over the country.

And then at sixteen I ran from home after one particular night when my mother verbally assaulted my father saying I was the cause of their fallout.

My sixteen year old self believed it and I ran away stayed with friends going back forth from couch to couch and finally finding an older lady living alone, in a shoddy apartment complex.

I took up nannying, worked jobs to jobs to put food on my mouth and pay rent to the older lady and finally at seventeen with my dance certificates, I started teaching ballet at the school, at nineteen, I started working at the club.

A little shy of twenty, I met Angelo.

And maybe I’ve let myself advance emotionally a little bit more then I should have.

And when I found out I was expecting, I was happy. You could say, I was happy.

And then I was scared.

And then everything broke.

I feel rough hand cover mine resting in my stomach, Angelo’s cheek resting on top of my head before he places a kiss on my hair.

“Tadpole.” He sighs.

“I’d like to be alone, Angelo.” I whisper in the dark. “Please.”

“Let me stay, baby.”

“Leave me, Angelo.” I whisper.

He doesn’t, he pulls me more close to his body flushing my back side go his front. “Let me stay with you.”

“Why do you do this?” I ask. “Why? We aren’t even in a bond, then why?”

“Can we just sleep?”

“Whatever, Angelo.” I whisper wiping my tears away my eyes. “Don’t touch my stomach.”

“Baby-”

“No.” I whisper. “Off limits, Angelo. Move your hand.”

He does, wrapping them around my shoulders instead.

“I’ll meet up with Blaire at the inn again tomorrow.” I inform him. “We’ll go swimming.”

“Sure.” He says. “Whatever helps you, tadpole.”

“You wouldn’t be there, would you?”

“I’ll be leaving for Greece for a while.” He sighs. “Work stuff and then to Russia.”

“Oh.” I breathe, biting my lip. “Work.”

“Yes, I’ll be over three weeks or so, you’ll have Alberto over and helping you out to your trips.”

“Sure.” I reply. Couldn’t help bit feeling a nudge of disappointment rake though my body. “How long will you be?” I ask, staring off, in the darkness, even though he’s told me how long he will be.

“Three weeks.” He repeated. I place my hand over his. “Will you miss me baby?” There is a teasing undertone in his voice.

I shake my head.

“Too bad.” He sighs. “I thought of bringing something for you, but since you won’t miss me-”

“Are you bribing me?” I whisper feeling teary eyed.

I don’t like being away from him but at the same time, I can’t stand him.

“Oh baby.” He chuckles. “I could never.”

I turn to face him, finger tips tracing his lips down his chin. “I love you here.” I whisper tracing the small scar on his chin, probably an accident from late teem shaving.

I lean up and place a kiss on his his bearded chin.

“Can’t live without me, can’t live with me, can you Ariel?” He chuckles. “Adamant to change every hair on my head.”

I feel my lip tremble placing my forehead against his chin.

Angelo sighs untangling himself from me. “My flight leaves at four. I have to pack-”

“Be safe.” My voice almost inaudible.

Why am I like this?

Why does he make me so damn weak?

Angelo asses the moment for a while. Me laying in the bed, in my side, facing away from him.

And then he leaves.

When I wake up it’s after nine thirty.

Sighing I wash my face and do my morning routine in the bathroom before I dress myself in a two piece swim ware, covering it with an off shoulder high slit beach dress and slip my feet in my slippers.

“Are you ready, Signora Ariel?” Bertie asks, standing himself outside of the master bedroom as I spray a puff of perfume on my wrists rubbing them together.

“Yes, Bertie.” I smile. “Let’s go, we’ll stop on the way for breakfast. My treat.”

Bertie follows me outside the penthouse barking orders to soldiers to guard the place as we step into the car.

“Do you have any idea why the sudden Greece and Russia plan?” I ask Bertie from the back seat.

“Confidential, I am afraid, Signora.” Bertie says. “I’m not allowed to open my mouth on my boss’s behind, I hope you understand.”

“Of course.” I sigh. “There is no danger looming over, is there?” I add.

Bertie sighs, it’s not playful however it answers my question.

---

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

so, that all for today, I can’t update for a second time. Sowey. A bit busy with family and studies at the moment. But hopefully we’ll get back in schedule. Love. xoxo

-November

11

“Mama…mama…mama-” I hear a faint voice waking up with a start, startled from the unusual dream of a child’s voice inside my head.

Fingering my hair, I close my eyes to think back to the moment.

The pain in that imaginary voice tugs at my heart strings even though I know that it is not real.

Sighing, I sit up on the bed, reaching for the bottle of water on the bedside table, gulping until only the plastic container remains.

What’s wrong with me? I think.

I’ve lived twenty one years without that man, and suddenly all my active and inactive senses belong to him?

It’s not normal. At least not for me.

Getting down from the bed, I find the plastic flip flop I wear around the house and shrug on my ankle length robe, tying a bow knot at the mid stomach as I walk out of the bedroom and pad down to the kitchen, firstly filling Coco food and water bowl and holler for him to eat and then fondle him for a while.

It’s been four long days since my pool date with Blaire. It wasn’t fun as we thought it was going to be.

We sat on the chairs by the infinity pool and drank lemonade. I like to think that I was being distant toward my best friend wallowing in my own pit of self loathing and self pity.

If I would have known Capo Bestone was supposed to be leaving for a three week trip or business trip o would have been nicer to him.

I would have shown him that- I was going to miss him and I would given him something to remember me by the long three weeks.

I am such a sappy ass shit, sometimes.

I take out two eggs and put them on the pan before adding water from the tap to place it on the stove.

There is breakfast. I think. Eggs.

I have no idea where Bertie is, he is usually moving around whatever room I am in, minus the bathroom, to the point I went full psycho in that man.

To my reply the older bald man said, “Ariel, I understand you’re lonely and sad, but it’s okay. You’ll be fine.”

And then I cried like a five year old, sitting on the kitchen floor, the dishes about me in a mess that was supposed to be my dinner, two nights before.

In conclusion, I’ve been weird this whole week and there is still three days and two weeks left of this madness.

Angelo didn’t call or text, so that night in the dark, is the last time I saw him.

Does it make me petty to miss him and want him?

Yes. It does.

It makes me a weak ass bitch, but do I care as of this moment about what people think?

No.

Became heart wants what it wants. People can fuck right off.

I haven’t contacted with Blaire since then either. I dunno why I feel like the need to be alone right now, but I also kind of want my best friend-

The swish-y sound of the private elevator opening alerts me.

What the fuck?

I push myself away from the kitchen counter and walk toward the entrance, only to be engulfed with Blaire bear hug and her ear on my hair.

I pat her head awkwardly as I wrap my other hand around her back, because kill me, I am short.

“Hey, you.” She sniffles pulling away from the hug, her face and nose red, blue eyes drowning in tears.

“What’s wrong?” I ask. “Why are you crying like you lost you dog?”

“You didn’t call or anything after our pool date-” She mumbles. “Was it something I did?”

“Oh, Blaire.” I pout. “You silly worm, it wasn’t anything you said or did, I was just simply-”

“Depressed?” She whispers pishing my bubble gum pink hair behind my ears. “Are you okay?”

“I feel okay, yes.” I sigh wrapping my arms around myself. “I am fine, Blaire, I just wanted to be alone, I suppose.”

She nods giving me a hug again. “I missed you, I thought you were mad at me or something so you weren’t calling-”

“Why didn’t you call me?” I raise an eyebrow at her.

“Oh-” She looks thoughtful for a split second. “Didn’t cross my mind, I guess.”

I shake my head finally noticing the man standing behind the crying girl who had now dried her eyes.

Roman was suited for the day, expression impassive as ever, hands on his pants pocket.

“Ignore him.” Blaire says rolling her eyes. “Were fighting.” Blaire adds bending down to scratch Coco’s head as he runs yo Blaire nuzzling her leg and looking up at her with puppy eyes.

“I’ll have some one pick you up, whenever.” I see Roman’s eye roll. “Ariel.” He gives me an acknowledging nod before turning toward the open elevator and pressing the button to take him down.

“What are you fighting about?” I asked moving toward the kitchen, putting an empty pan on the second burner to cook some sweet sausages.

“Usual stuff.” Blaire rolls her eyes standing up and leaning against the counter. “I wanted to come here and he said it wasn’t safe or whatever and then one word led to the other, we’re not fucking at this moment, so-”

I nod understanding. “Don’t push yourself too much in his mess, Blaire.” I whisper.

“Oh, don’t you worry bout me.” She puffs up her cheeks. “I can handle Roman and his mess. Given that there is none.”

“You’re not wrong.” I laugh. “Just- don’t make the mistake I did, alright?”

“Whatchu mean?” She asks in all seriousness. “What mistake?”

“Getting emotionally attached with the guy with a good dick.” I whisper, moving the sausages around the pan.

Blaire waves me off. “Ain’t happening in this life.”

I nod.

If it goes how like how she is feeling this, it’d be better.

Roman is a mess. No matter how composed and impassive the bastard looks on the outside, he’s a fucking mess on the inside.

Sighing, I plate our whatever of small breakfast and walk to hand over one plate to Blaire.

“Thanks.” She says narrowing her eyes. “What’s on your head, Bubbles?” She asks picking up a sausage without her fork and bites it, aggressively.

“Nothing.” I smile. “Let’s sit, wanna watch Netflix, we got Netflix.”

“Sure.” Blaire says following me back to the living room.

“By the way, your guard was dismissed for the day.” Blaire said. “I dunno why, so don’t ask me, Roman said so.”

I nod and eat my eggs and sausages and cuddle Blaire after we are done eating and watch some stupid Rom-com that makes so sense.

“That’s stupid.” Blaire says throwing up her hand in expiration. “This weird ass shit doesn’t happen in real life, filthy assholes.”

I chuckled at her temper but watched the movie anyway.

“Can we watch some good movie?” Blaire asked. “Like Titanic or Harry met Sally or Dirty Dancing? Netflix needs to step up it’s game, honestly.”

“ ’Kay.“ I say handing her the remote control so she can search whatever she wants. We end up watching Titanic and Dirty Dancing and When Harry Met Sally.

Its past after noon when were done watching TV and Coco yawns from the foot of the couch curled up on his doggie bed, watching TV with us.

I fix Coco’s lunch and think that he needs to be walked.

Jess used to walk her every day but there is no Jess so I’d have to walk him.

I’ll take him out tomorrow. Give myself some treats as well for my upcoming birthday.

The thought makes me smile slightly. I’ll be twenty two.

That somehow makes me happy. I’m a weird person.

“Whatchu smiling about?” Blaire asks.

“Nothing.” I shake my head. “Let me to put a pot up for dinner, Carbonara, works for you?” I ask.

“No.” Blaire pouts. “I have to leave, babe.”

Oh?

I’ll be alone for dinner again?

“Okay.” I smile. “Do you want my phone to call Roman?”

She nods with an eye roll. “I hate how i have to depend on that crazy mother fucker for every damn thing.”

Blaire’s car arrived within ten minutes and after our hugs Blaire left.

I made Carbonara for dinner. Bertie showed up the second Blaire left and was playing animal crossing on his phone, cussing out whenever something messed up.

I placed a plate of Carbonara spaghetti in front of him and placed mine in the table as I took my seat.

“Thank you.” Bertie grinned picking up his fork but still playing.

I smiled at him recognizing his thankfulness as I ate my food silently.

“Did you talk to your Capo Bestone, today?” I asked taking a sip of my water.

Bertie assess the question for a split second before tentatively nodding a yes.

I nod. “Is he- is he okay?”

“Yeah.” Bertie said masking all the emotion behind his stone face. “Capo Bestone is fine.”

I nodded, not advancing in the matter.

Well, if he’s fine why hasn’t he called me, yet?

It was about to be five days tomorrow and he still didn’t get the time to call me.

And then he acts like he owns me.

Mother fucking cunt. I think.

“Ariel?” Bertie asks. “Well, if you feel the need to call him or talk to him, maybe you should, you know, do that.” He suggested. “Capo Bestone is busy doing business in Greece, he’s fine, I can assure you.”

“Thanks, Bert.” I smile. The heaviness still evident on my chest.

Bertie helps me clean up the after mess of dinner and then positions guards on the floor, and on the ground floor, around the elevator and God knows where else.

After dinner, I take a much required shower without wetting my hair, and wrap a towel around myself, before walking to the bedroom and settling myself on the bed.

Bertie never walks into the bedroom and I keep the door locked at all the time I am inside the room. One, because Angelo doesn’t like anybody in his room.

Two, I sleep naked, so don’t want a huge ass man walking inside to see me fingering myself or whatever.

I pick up my phone, there was no text. As usual. I read the news, checked through some random website to read shitty articles about celebrities.

I mean they are entertaining so-

Sighing I hit up the contact icon. My finger hovering over Angelo’s name.

Taking a deep breath, I press the small phone icon and place the device on my ear.

Jesus.

The number you are trying to call is busy now.

I hear the robotic female voice form the other end, resulting in the call disconnection.

“Lord.” I sigh and go back to my business.

If he don’t have time for me, I ain’t got time for him either.

What a cunt.

Fifteen minutes later, I dial the number again. Unreachable.

“Fuck you, too.” I mumble biting my fingernails as I look at the screen.

I dial again. Unreachable.

Unreachable.

Unreachable.

Tears blur my eyes as I pull up my discarded dress and slip it on, and place the device against my ear, once again.

Unreachable.

I get out of the room, in search of Alberto, who was in the living room.

“Hey, Bertie.” I call from the doorway.

“Ariel.” He frowns. “What’s up?”

“Angelo’s cell is not reachable.” I whisper, feeling a weird kind of emptiness and pressure on my chest.

Bertie looks like he wants to say something but then he shrugs. “Probably network problem.” He says. “International calls are pain.”

I nod.

Yeah. Maybe.

On the way back to the bedroom, I dial Angelo’s phone again. Voice mail.

I sigh. “Hey-” I whisper against the mouth piece. “It’s me, Ariel. I-”

What do I say to him?

This is all very unusual for me.

“I-” I bite my lip looking down, examining my toe nails. “Be safe?”

I miss you~

I end the call. There’ll be no need of no voice mail.

I hate this.

I hate how I want him to put an effort when he clearly doesn’t want to.

I shut the bedroom door, and fall back in the bed, sighing.

I’ll just sleep and then go out in the morning, with Coco and get some long overdue shopping done.

I dial Roman’s number from my phone and wait for him to pick up.

“Hello?” His sleepy voice comes through the other end. “Blaire is asleep, Ariel, I’ll let her get back at you in the morning-”

“I needed to talk to you.” I say quickly.

“About?” He asks I hear shuffling from the other end and then some female whines and moans.

I thought she said they weren’t fucking or whatever

Angelo. “If I can come back to the club, it’s been days-”

“Listen, Ariel.” He sighs. “I might be your boss but you returning to the club depends on my brother’s wishes. Unless he gives a green signal, I can’t do-”

“I thought you were the boss!” I provoke.

“I am.” He says. “And that’s why you’ll keep your tone in check, as I said, any decision regarding your coming back and not coming back depends on Capo Bestone’s wishes not me.”

What a cunt.

“Good night, Ariel.”

“Night.” I mumble ending the call and laying down in the bed.

Why does it have to be this way?

Urgh, I hate my life.

---

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Kinda sick. Kinda sad. But I’ll live.

-November.

12

It was two days over three weeks, I thought as I turned off my phone for the night, after reading the news.

My birthday was a mad celebration.

Blaire somehow found out, made it her responsibility to celebrate it, even if I wasn’t in the mood. At all.

She bullied me into baking a chocolate cake, for myself and garnish it with melted chocolate, two size bigger than her head, and then used the employee code to get us a good supply of alcohol from the club.

We watched stupid movies while we ate cake from the baking tin and gulped cognac and vodka from the bottle.

Given that neither of us fancied too much alcohol, drinking from the bottle said a lot. A lot.

Coco was alone and lonely so Bertie took him for a walk after placing at least ten men around the pent house.

The morning after my twenty second birthday I got a note and a gift from Miss Alyssa Giovanni.

The note simply said,

“Wish you a long happy life and many more birthdays to come,

Love,

Alyssa.“

The presents was however something else.

There was a jute bag spa and bath essentials, expensive ones, some house slippers cozy and furry, a faux fur blanket and a purple velvet box.

Inside the purple velvet covered box, lined with golden silk on a cushion rested a pair of small solid gold hoops.

Even though small and moderate in size, perfect for everyday wear, they were elegant and expensive.

Screamed sophistication and money.

I fashioned them while looking at the dressing table the mirror, pulling my hair up, doing an up do.

Those were just out of this world.

I called her to express my gratitude and say my thanks for sending such beautiful gifts for me.

To the answer of which she just laughed and wished me happy birthday once more.

Donna Coralyn sent me presents via Blaire on the morning of NY twenty second birthday, consisting of numerous happy birthday foil helium balloons, some scented mood enhancing soaps, a huge ass yellow cannery stuffed toy and single pearl confiscated in a white gold chain necklace.

I loved it. I simply wore my new gifted jewelry though out the week.

Sighing, I turned to my side, the master bed I was occupying solo for the last three weeks.

He was supposed to be back two days ago.

Two days.

It makes me mad and blue.

So mad.

I, at least deserve she kind of explanatory behavior from some body.

But no!

Nobody gonna betray their beloved Capo Bestone.

Nobody gonna give Ariel any closure cause Ariel is just stupid.

Ariel doesn’t deserve no explanation because Ariel is supposed to sit back at the penthouse suite and look all pretty, dressed in silks and waiting for capo Bestone to return so she can spread her legs open for him.

Numerous phone calls, failed text attempts, blocked calls, unreachable calls, and what does Ariel get?

Nothing!

Asbo-fucking-lutely nothing.

I’ve tried to talk Roman into whats up with Angelo, the man is adamant saying his brother is in Greece for family business.

Family business my asshole.

Family business prevents him from calling me to at least say he’s damn alive? Or dead?

He’s alive that I know for sure because I’ve caught Bertie receiving direct orders from him over the phone in hushed tones.

Cunts.

A bunch of cunts is what I am surrounded with.

It makes me want to have barbeque with their worthless balls.

I stay awake a long while after that, Coco was sleeping since his dinner.

Sometimes I wonder if anything is wrong with my mutt, given that his lack of enthusiasm in everything other then eating and sleeping. Occasionally watching TV.

I cuddled the stuffed dolly hoping to get some sleep, but my mind wonders.

It’s been like this for the past three weeks.

I think I heard somewhere, that woman kind can sense when something is about to go wrong, it’s a part of their subconscious mind, I wonder if this is what it is happening.

And not going to lie, it haunts me.

Am I sensing some kind of danger, subconsciously as a result I am getting more paranoid with Angelo’s delay in returning to the country?

I have no idea.

The Greeks weren’t particularly friendly with us, except from maybe Don or wherever they call the head of the mafia in Greek blabber, Leonidas Elias.

I mean I only saw him once, at the club when I newly joined, he asked a personal dance from me, and paid a hefty load of money for just three and a half minutes…quite hard to forget, a well built man with the most luxurious blonde locks and bluest of eyes- dreamy. Sigh.

As far as I know, Don Leonidas is very close to Roman and Angelo from their time in Greece when they trained in Athens.

So there is that, and every other small or big crime organizations hates this family, might I add, so the danger was quite- dangerous.

I mean I don’t get it, them Greeks supply the half of the marijuana in Europe.

We are their permanent buyer so why hate us and hate the Italians?

This is sick, I don’t get men logic, half the time.

I get down from the bed with a view to check up on Coco, he sleeps soundly on his doggie bed, snuggled under his doggie covers with his little bouncy toy that Blaire got him.

I got to the kitchen connected to sitting room and opened the fridge. There was left over Turkey salad from dinner, some chocolate pudding I made, an assortment of drinks that didn’t appeal to me at all.

Grocery shopping is due tomorrow.

I’ll ask Blaire if she would join me-

“I missed you, baby.” I hear the voice before I feel him close behind me, his arm snake around my waist pulling me straight while the other hand shuts the fridge door.

What it I want to eat something, huh? I think mentally but Angelo is strong and he’s more strong when he’s needy.

At this moment he’s needy, as he pressed my behind to his hardened crotch.

“She missed me, baby?” He asks tilting my head back, his hand around my throat earning an audible sigh from me as he rotates his hips against my linen covered bottom and the hand holding my waist journeys south.

Well, welcome home?

Angelo found my already sticky wet folds with his expert fingers. A chuckle of delight left this throat to find me exactly how he wanted me.

“Looks like she missed me, after all.” He whispers against my ears, teasing the lobe with his teeth as his hand capturing my throat leaves its place, glides down my body, feeling the warm flesh under his chilled palms before Angelo flicks my robe over my hips, finding me naked underneath.

“Look at you, tadpole.” He teases his one hand still exploring my folds, avoiding my clit but caressing every little flesh of my privates. The other hand splayed over my bottom.

“All ready, for me, my tadpole.”

I released a shaky breath, outing my both palms in the cool reflective surface of the fridge.

“Angelo.” I whispered.

“Sí, baby?” He asks pushing one finger inside my slippery wet hole making me breathe out, frailly.

My knees week for his ministrations.

“You want me, Ariel?” He huskily asks against my ear. “You want me to fuck you, baby?”

“Yes.” I whisper hating myself for wanting him so much.

Angelo unzips himself, my body gets pressed against the fringe surface and in one swift movement he slips inside me, his finger that was previously snuggled in me, now teases my clit, rubbing, pinching, flickering the bundle of nerves as he fucks me with slow, deep strokes.

“Oh, how I missed you, Ariel.” Angelo breathes his hand leaving my tingling pussy and wrapping itself around my throat, pushing my face back so I stare into his dark eyes.

“I missed this.” He whisperers against my face, dipping his head down so he can place an open mouth kiss on mine, I gasp out at the sensation as Angelo picks up his pace, from achingly slow to tremendously fast.

From lovingly deep to maddening hard and even more deeper, hitting my sweet spot over and over while I cry out in his mouth, both hand firm against the fridge, legs bucking unable to stand straight for a second longer.

“Cum with me, Ariel.” He rasps. “Cum with me baby.”

He pushes his throbbing, pulsing cock in and out, the fridge making weird noises with every push and pull.

My head drops back on his shoulder as I feel my muscles spasm, the ache on my stomach bubble up and with two more pushes, I cum flooding all over his cock, Angelo groans dropping his forehead against my shoulder as my inner muscle clutch his cock harder like a vice and milks every drop from him.

We’re both breathing heavy when Angelo slips out of my pussy with a tiny pop, making my legs buck under me, but Angelo’s arm support me to stand straight as I breathe my high out.

I feel the remains of his arousal drop on the floor, leaking.

Jesus, cleaning lady was going to have a weird ass time-

“Do you have food in there?” Angelo asked pressing my flat against the fridge, his front squashing my back.

What’s with this animal? I wonder.

“For that.” I whisper. “We have to move away from the fridge, Angelo.”

“Never mind, let me take you to bed.” He said pushing himself off, of me and picking me up, bridal style.

“Jesus, God.” I roll my eyes when he carries me through the first floor to the master bedroom. “What’s it with you and just pouncing-”

“I missed you.” He said without thinking even a second or letting me finish. “I missed her. She missed me, not sure how much you missed me, but she missed me damn well.” With that he was inside me again, hard and fast sighing from his euphoric pleasure.

I smiled looking up at the semi reflective ceiling, my arms around his neck, playing with the hairs at the base of his neck, the hook and eye of his white gold chain with a cross pendent.

I missed him alright.

But I wasn’t gonna let him know-

“Angelo.” I gasped out when his cock slipped out of my heat and his mouth kissed my chin, lips trailing south till his tongue was buried in me.

“Lord.” I cussed grabbing his hair in fists and raising my hips up up to find some friction.

Angelo’s palms raised up my bottom cradling my flesh, holding me to his mouth as he devoured me with his tongue.

“You taste exquisite.” He whispers before his teeth tug at my clit, spreading that familiar shake all over my body, heels of my legs, pressing against the mattress, hands pulling on his hair as my while body trembles from the tremor of my second orgasm.

Angelo crawls up and places his mouth on, making me taste our mixed arousals on his lips.

“Taste me and yourself, tadpole?” He asks cupping my right breast and giving it a owning squeeze before he slides inside once again making my eyes drop close and lungs take in a shaky breath.

“I’ve waited for three fucking weeks to feel your cunt tight, wet and hot around my dick, baby.” He rasps, pushing his hard girth inside me. “I kept debating in my head to make you face time me while I watched you play with your tight little cunt, baby-” He sighs.

“Why didn’t you?” I whisper moaning out the second he slams right into my heat.

“Too dangerous, baby.” He whispers dipping his head between my breasts, his pace still intriguingly slow but rather hard, going deep with every single push. “I missed this so much, I missed you wrapped around my cock so bad-”

I had a sudden urge to laugh.

Right.

My cunt and his cock.

I push against his chest.

“Ariel?” Angelo whispers from my sudden shift of mood.

“Get off me.” I hiss. “Get the fuck off me.”

He sighs and lifts himself off me, pulling his cock out from my warmth leaving me empty.

“We were fine just a second ago.” He sighs. “And we’re back at it.”

“You didn’t even call for three weeks and two days.”  I say.

“I called, you declined. I texted, you ignored. You turned off your phone, you blocked my number, you closed every possible route of contact.”

“Ariel-” He says on a tone that says, ’ let me explain ’

Oh, but I am on a fucking roll, tonight.

“No.” I hold up my hand, adjusting my robe.

“Don’t interrupt me while I am fucking talk to you, signore Giovanni, you don’t call, you don’t text, you leave without so much of a goodbye and then you come home, act like we’re the happy happy couple of the year, and then all you can think about is how much your dick missed me?” I say.

“That’s all you can think about? You pounced on me before you even saw me, and then you’re expressing how much your dick missed me-” I breathe the tension and anger out of me. Or try to.

“Baby-”

“Don’t you fucking dare, baby me, Giovanni, don’t you dare, your audacity leaves me speechless, dejected and disgusted.” I yell.

He sighs. “It was dangerous to contact you-”

“Of course.” I snort. “Dangerous to contact me, but not so much to pass Bertie orders.”

“Ariel, you’re being unreasonable, Alberto is my employee.”

“And what about me?” I ask a bit more forcefully then I meant to.

His silence gives me answer.

I adjust my robe and lay down on my side.

That’s it we’re done.

I don’t have the energy to fight anymore.

Angelo stays beside, still trying to coax me without words, caressing my shoulder, my hair my cheek with his roughed up knuckles before I jerk my body away from him, making a silent point that he’s not welcome for touches.

I hear the tired man sigh and leave the bedside, the bathroom door open and the shower running.

---

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

SO, I’ve been late. Lol. I am sorry. I am just busy with studies and what not. I’ll try to update mor regular and on time.

Anyways, how is your day going?

-November.

13

NOTE : I’ll put the translation to the Italian words or conversation in brackets bellow the paragraph or the sentence. <3

I woke up early next morning, probably triggered by anger or the fact that I couldn’t sleep soundly last night.

Angelo wasn’t beside me. As usual.

I was cuddling the obscenely yellow dolly.

The color oddly hurts my poor eyes but it’s soft and it provided me the silent affection I wanted.

Sitting up, I brushed my hair out of my face, feeling the morning air rush inside from the crack of the windows.

Slinging my feet off the bed, I found my new house slippers lined with fur and journeyed down to the kitchen in search of something to wet my throat.

“Spero di volare presto in Russia.” I hear Angelo’s voice as I step down the last stair leading me to the first floor.

(I hope to fly to Russia soon.)

“No, no, starò bene, ci sono state abbastanza complicazioni così com’è, non vorrei ritardare il nostro accordo con loro.” He adds.

(No, no, I’ll be fine, there has been enough complications as it is, I wouldn’t want to delay our deal with them.)

I see him moving around the kitchen, shirtless, a pair of maroon silk pajama hangs low from his hips.

There was something different about the man. I think, crossing my arms over my chest.

His hair was longer slightly, out of place. Dark brown strands going further down his neck the usual.

I could tell something had changed.

I couldn’t just place what.

His movements seemed as if he were tired.

“Ho detto, non c’era motivo di ritardare la firma dell’accordo solo perché uno stronzo mi ha sparato addosso, Roman.” He sighed.

(I said, there was no reason delaying the deal signing just because some asshole got their shot at me, Roman.)

“Look  I’ve been through worse, brother, you and I, we can do this- no, no, I don’t need a weak off, Roman-” He sighs.

Disenchanted, he drops his phone on the kitchen counter and grabs the edge of the marble counter shoulder slumping.

“Angelo?” I ask pushing myself away from the adjoint doorway, my arms still crossed over my chest.

“Ehi, girino.” He pushes himself off the position, impassive and turns to put the turkey slices on the hot skillet.

(Hey, tadpole.)

I turn the burner off, making him turn to me.

“Buongiorno.” I wish pushing myself closer to him, my hair was pulled over on shoulder, pink curls resting just a bit above my breasts.

(Good morning)

“Buongiorno.” He says. “You’re up early.”

(Good morning)

“You are, too.” I say not liking the weird hide and seek game between us.

Something happened that I do not know but Roman does.

Something happened that stopped his visit from Greece to Russia.

Something happened that required him a week off.

Something happened that involved some assholes and them getting a shot at him-

I see the wounds first before my eyes makes it up to his face or somewhere else on his carved body.

They were three in total. One on left his shoulder, one just a bit below his ribs, the other a little above his hip bone.

Through almost dried and healed, the wounds looked fresh and they definitely weren’t there when he left.

The raised red skin from the incision, that required to take whatever had penetrated his body stood out like spots on his God like carved body.

“What happened?” I asked in a barely audible voice looking up at his stygian orbs. “When?”

Angelo turned around not liking my eyes lingering on his fresh even though healed wounds and turned up the burner.

“The day I landed in Greece.” He volunteered. “It was a blood bath just after the car pulled out from the airport.”

I place a palm on his bicep indicating that I needn’t to hear more.

I didn’t need to hear more. I didn’t want to hear more.

The thought of a highway shootout makes me sick to my stomach.

Angelo sighed.

“This is why I couldn’t call you or let you contact me in any possible ways, they have been keeping tabs on me the whole time, Leonidas- he managed to keep me underground for the three weeks to heal, but it was safe, or so Roman thought for me to get home, as soon as possible.” He explained.

“That doesn’t explain why nobody would pass me the news at least. Roman knew, Bertie knew but nobody bothered to tell me that you, were almost on the way to hell-”

“They didn’t tell because I told them not to.” He replied, his voice firm. “Because you worry.”

I snort in annoyance.

Worry.

“Sometimes you worry too much, baby.” He says turning and cupping my left cheek. “I didn’t want you to loose your marbles over small bullet wounds.”

Angelo removed his hand from my cheek and turned his attention back to the stove.

“Maybe you should rest?” I asked standing beside him.

“I’ve rested enough-”

“That didn’t keep you from slaving away for work.” I replied knowing that if there was five shots instead of three, Angelo Giovanni would still get up the next morning, suit up, gun tucked into waist band of his slacks, ready to end whoever would stand between him and his goddamn target.

He chuckles shaking his head.

“Roman said something about a week off-” I say my yellow painted nails dragging across his bicep, hard enough to give him a shivery feeling. “You might as well take it.”

“Is this your way of making it up to me?” He asked turning his face to mine, and crossing his arms over his chest lazily, a smug grin gracing the corner of his lips.

“I’m not making it up to you.” I roll my eyes. “I’m making it up to myself.” I add.

“Sure.” He smirks, his hands falling to his sides and going around my bottom, abruptly pulling me closer to his hardened chest making me gasp. “Do make it up to yourself, tadpole, I love when you make it up to yourself.”

Cracking a barely there smile, I shoved him with my shoulder  play fully. “I’ll finish up here.” I announced. “Go- do whatever you do.”

“As of this moment, I’d very much love to do you.” Angelo whispered bending down so his breath fanned my cheeks. “Have you for breakfast, and then lunch and then dinner and every little snack in between, my little tadpole.”

“No.” I shake my head. “Go, leave me alone-”

“Angelo!” I shriek as his face dips on the crook of my neck and he rubs his stubble covered face in my neck, bringing out a tickling sensation where I was sensitive.

I push against him, making him let go of me.

“You smell good.” He compliments.

“I think you’re implying that I smell like you and of sex.” I reply turning myself toward the stove.

I reek. I need a shower.

Angelo doesn’t leave instead wraps his arms around my waist placing his chin on my shoulders. “I dismissed Alberto for the day.”

“That’s good.” I reply.

Now who would I play ludo and monopoly with? I wonder.

I have grown strangely find of that man. Especially after my birthday when I had a slight panic attack and passed out and he sat by me helping me get back to normal breaths.

I mean Angelo staying home would mean. Sex, food and repeat.

But then again it’s rare I get the glimpse of his playful side, and he seems really playful even though I am mad at him, even though he’s on my last nerve at this moment and has been since last year, I don’t want to waste his good mood.

He needs to be home. He needs to be cared for.

Work, after taking three bullets, and spending time in hiding while a hit ordered upon his head, should be the least of his worries.

I trust Roman to make the family work without his beloved and trusted Capo Bestone, at least for a week.

This week, I take care of him.

Even though he wronged me.

Even though given at any chance I’ll hurl whatever I find at his head.

“Your envisaging terrifies me.” He whispers.

What’s he mean by envisaging or whatever?

“Pass the veggie box.” I ask for him as it’s on his left.

He releases one hand from the grip and passes me the container on which I chopped up some tomato and carrots beforehand.

I dump the content of the box along with the almost cooked turkey meat.

After I’ve fried them, I’ll put them in a bigger pan and make soup for Angelo.

Yes, soup is good for him.

“I just wanted a sandwich.” He mumbles his hand back in its place and chin resting on my shoulder.

“You’re getting soup.” I say a small smile playing on the corner of my lips.

“Soup is for sick people.” He retorts. “But I’ll eat whatever you make.”

Of course you would.

“The cleaning lady came, did laundry, bleached the whole damn house and the kitchen-” Angelo chuckles.

“You need to stop acting like a teenager.” I say biting my lip trying to stop the break out of a smile.

“Oh, I think she was so very shy, cleaning up our mess from this very floor.” He sighs. “I rather enjoyed you last night, tadpole.”

“More then you enjoyed your Greek whores?” I ask.

It wouldn’t come to a surprise if he did, I mean-

Placing an empty pan on the second stove and fill it with water, dump two blocks of market bought turkey stock in it and let it boil.

“There were no Greek whores.” He says. “There is only Ariel.”

“You can’t say that stuff, Angelo.” I say.

“I can say whatever the fuck I want, Ariel.” He rasps. “And when I say there is only you, I fucking mean there is only you, tadpole.”

“We’re fucking, Angelo.” I remind him. “Not dating.”

Grow some balls, Angel. I think.

Grow some balls and tell me I am wrong, Angel.

“You know?” He says placing a kiss on my shoulder. “I have some paperwork to catch up on.”

And then he leaves.

Coward.

Bloody cowardly cunt.

Sighing, I put the vegetables and the cooled Turkey on the boiling broth.

Fuck this soup.

Fuck him.

Why can’t live without him or with him?

This is stupid.

Why was I so keen on him returning home?

This is meaningless.

I hate how I feel for him and the next moment how I don’t feel for him.

It sucks.

I just wish he never returned home-

I slap a palm over my mouth at the thought just crossed my head.

The thought of him not returning makes my blood run cold.

It would only mean the hit on his head was a success.

A silent lone tear drops from the corner of my eyes landing on my cheek.

Whatever it is, I am not ready for him to leave. Not permanently.

Wiping the slight dampness away from my pale cheek, I steer the soup before moving to the fridge getting the last days bread and cutting it into dip sizes before buttering them and putting them into the oven to reheat and hydrate from the slight spray of water I did before putting the butter.

Fifteen minutes later, the soup thickens up and the bread is done, I also add some sweet sausages for Angelo on his plate of bread and add a plentiful amount of soup on the bowl.

Walking to his office door, I knock once wait two seconds and knock again.

“Come on in, baby.” I hear his voice.

Surely I was comfortable around Angelo. More comfortable then I would like to be, but his working space, his office was something I never tried to intervene in.

For one he doesn’t entirely like it. For two, I find it hard to keep up, the business goes above my intelligence level so I like to steer clear from anything business related.

Angelo was sitting on the cherry colored leather chair behind the office desk, sorting out paper work, a shirt still missing on his body.

I place the wooden tray of food and juice on the corner of the table.

Now my plan was to put the food and leave and go make myself a plate and get into the room, lock the door so he leaves me the fuck alone while I bury myself in mindless romance.

Angelo grabs a hold of my hand just as I was about to turn and leave, I was still wearing the black linen robe from last night.

Roughly jerking my arm, he pulls me into a sitting position on his lap, astride him.

“Smells good.” He muses. “Feed me, baby.”

I shake my head indicating a no. “I want to shower, I feel soiled-”

He sighs leaving my hand, for a second I think it’s my queue to leave. Sneakily, Angelo unties the robe rope from my waist and pushes the slippery material down my shoulders.

“What are you doing?” I sigh in exasperation, making a motion to pull my robe up, to hide my breasts that got reveled in the process.

“If you refuse to feed me, tadpole, I’d rather eat with a view.” He says yanking the garment out of my grasp.

Somehow his sentence makes me smile. My brain is twisted.

My heart isn’t on the right place.

“As of this moment, my view is exquisite.” Angelo smirks taking his plate on his palms, eating, occasionally gazing at my exposed tits.

It’s the most childish thing I’ve been a part of, I think to myself.

Who does that? What kind of childish play is this? I think pulling up my robe over my shoulders again.

Angelo sighs. “What?”

I frown. “You want to ignore the fact that, you’re staring at my tits while you eat, this is childish, Angelo.”

“You’re mad at me.” He discloses.

I get down from his lap.

“There is neither any reason nor any interrelation for me to be mad at you, you go do whatever the fuck you want, I go do whatever the fuck I want, Angelo. We’re both grown responsible adults free to our own will and right now I do not want you to watch my tits while you eat. I feel dirty, I want to shower.”

Why am I like this?

Why are we like this?

“I don’t like you being mad at me, baby.” He sighs putting his plate back on the table. “Baby come on, I haven’t seen you for weeks, I missed you.”

I cross my arms over my chest.

His words are empty, I know it.

My heart knows it.

Yet my heart craves to believe them.

Stupid heart. Stupid brain. Stupid Ariel.

Angelo pushes the chair behind him getting up.

Cupping my cheeks, he places his lips softly but yet oh so carefully and sensually on mine.

“I miss you, baby.” He whispers pecking my lips. “I miss you even though you’re here, I miss you- you’re all over this house yet I miss my Ariel. Your smell lingers on my bed, on my cloths, but you’re not here, baby-”

I push him away. “Empty words, Capo Bestone.”

“Ariel-”

“You’re a master manipulator, Angelo.” I say simply. It’s a truth and he too knows it.

“You know how to weave your words to get your way with everyone.”

“Yet, you twist me in ways I thought was impossible.”

Tears build up in my eyes, as I hold my hand up to stop him.

“Ariel.” He breathes. “Whatever happened to you and me, to us, I-”

I look up at his black eyes, they soften. For me.

“What do you want me to do, baby?” He asks, holding my face gently between his palms. “What can I do to go back to be as we were?”

“You mean back to when we were fucking?” I whisper. “Fucking in the club, in your office, in the penthouse, in the kitchen, right here on this table?”

He looks lost.

This is never going to work out between us.

Were both stuck at one place and the way we are handling things it’s pushing us to unhealthy places.

“You always leave Ariel.” He says pushing his body closer to mine, I take steps back. “You always leave, I never ask for you to leave.”

“You never ask for me to stay, either.”

At this point I am backed up against the wall built cabinet.

“I really want to be inside you right now, Tadpole.” He says.

There is no way in hell I’ll be ever to resist this man.

“I really need you to be inside me, now.” I repeat my hips lifting up  pressing my heat against his hardened crotch.

Angelo kisses me softly  before his moves to the elastic band of his pajama bottoms pushing them down enough to free his erection, sliding up inside my already wet heat through the opening of my robe.

“Fuck.” Angelo cusses, his forehead falling on the crook of my neck, mine thrown back, resting against the wooden frame of the bookshelf mouth opened in a silent moan.

“Fuck, baby.” He hisses driving his girth into it’s destination  hitting my sweet spot, rough and hard, making me moan and grab the back of his neck, nails digging into his flesh. “I fucking missed you, tadpole-”

“Angelo-” I cry out from the quick build up inside me.

His phone rings.

We ignore it.

Angelo pulls out and shoves himself back in, with ever push my body tending to scoot away from his but the wall behind us preventing to do so.

With one hand Angelo braced himself against the shelf, the other grabbed my right thigh, pushing it upward until I hook it over his waist, so his strokes go deeper inside me.

His phone annoyingly rings again.

“Fuck.” Angelo cusses making me sigh.

“What is it?” I ask inpatient while he digs his pajama picket for the phone and answers it. Throbbing girth still snuggled inside my heat.

“Giovanni.” He snaps. “You better have a motherfucking reason to bother me at this hour, I’ll have your fucking head, you mother-”

“What?” Angelo frowns pulling out from me, I sigh but he slams back in place, picking up his pace once again, turning me into a moaning mess.

“Sí, we’ll be there.” He ends the call, throws the phone somewhere. “We better finish this hurry baby.” He hisses.

“Oh?” I cry out from his deep and hard pushes.

“We’re expected at estate.” He grits out, closer to his climax, my head turns to right, eyes closed barely listening to any word coming out of his mouth lost in my own sexual bliss as the familiar build up in my stomach creates the knot, legs turning numb, while body raising in temperature.

“Family brunch.” Angelo grits out, movements becoming rough and fast as we climax together, our body heaving for air.

“What?” I gasp out as he pulls himself put of me with a slow pop.

I hate the empty feeling.

I want him back inside.

“Family brunch.” He repeats his forehead resting on the wood beside my head catching his breath.

I nod, limp.

---

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

I know I am ten minutes late and all that but I hope y’all enjoy and are excited to read the next chapters as I am to write them. Loves.

Oh, and if you want sneak peaks, character aesthetic and character video, countdowns. Do follow me in Instagram. Mine is: nov_ember

-November

14

This chapter is tittles “

Angelo in Greece

“ I want to be honest about this chapter, because it’s a ‘I was bored so I wrote a not of extra tea’ chapter. If you don’t read it, you won’t be really missing anything.

So why am I publishing this?

This gives us a glimpse of Angelo. A little bit of who he is. How does he think.

Why should you read it?

You don’t have to if you don’t want to.

Why wasn’t this published before chapter 12 and 13?

This contained a lot of spoilers for chapter twelve and thirteen, if I published Angelo’s POV earlier y’alls excitement for the next chapters would’ve died down

Okay. Back to the story. Lol.

Sorry I took too much time, I let y’all fawn or hate over Capo Bestone.

I park the McLaren on the hotel driveway, Chopard sunglasses covering my eyes, the ache on my right shoulder and left side bellow the ribs still evident. The third one on the hip bone was not so much.

It was a graze. Thankfully.

Given that the wounds weren’t as much hurting now as it did two days ago, I’d so far go to say I was fine. Or it was the dose of pain relief I took before driving here.

Stepping out of my brand new ride, I tossed the keys to the valet who stood patiently for my arrival.

I wasn’t late, I was precisely three minutes early, I’d rather not be early to this place even if my mother threatens to have my head on a bident.

“He’s your father, Angelo.” I could hear her gentle yet firm voice in my head. “You’re supposed to show respect-”

Of that, I do not have the slightest wish.

I lit a cigarette blowing a puff of nicotine in the air, as I eyed the brown leather bound Breguet in my wrist as the seconds hand ticked slowly.

At present I’d do anything to get rid of this impromptu meeting with my father and his said family, however  Marcus says it’s necessary.

Then why is not my mother dear with me? Mama Coralyn, so far as I know will always be biased toward my mother.

Anything that would trigger her biscuit is off limits. End of discussion and vice versa.

I finished the cigarette throwing the nonsmokeable bit on the ground crushing it with the toe of my Testoni shoe.

Realising it was time, I buttoned the single button on my suit and walked toward the entrance, the shades still covering my eyes.

The royalty hotel and restaurants stood on the heart of Athens, Greece owned by Richardson group of industries, inc.

A serveuse stood by the reception side, dressed in baby blue uniform as she welcomed me.

“This way, signore Giovanni.” The women said in her Greek accent with a flattering smile as she lead the way, with me following behind, to a VIP lounge.

“Mister Richardson, sir.” The waitress announced. “Angelo Giovanni for you, sir.”

I stepped onto the finely furnished however small room, taking off my dark shades.

The room was occupied by a mini bar and a rectangular table completely set up with utensils for lunch as Aron Richardson sat at the head of the table, a black leather folder in hand, hairs greying to the sides, reading glasses on place.

“Angelo.” He greeted with a smile lingering on the corner of his lips as he stood up from his seat extending a hand for a shake.

Papa. “Mr. Richardson.” I greeted.

The man’s smile slightly died down. “Take a seat, take a seat.”

Nodding, I took my seat on the other end of the table and cross my finger resting my elbows on the table.

“The rest of the family, will be joining us shortly, I hope you don’t mind, I wished to talk to you alone, son.”

“Sure.” I replied impassively.

“I was going over my will, and I realized that, you in fact have the right over the family business as much as my other sons as the eldest and the first born, I wished to make some amends on the previously made will that will of course be executed after my demise-”

“I do not, want or need tour money, Mr. Richardson.” I said before he got a chance to finish his sentence. “I was requested by my mother to join you for lunch and so here I am, putting enough dents in my life, having lunch with you, neither your money nor your life interests me, if you will.” I said.

“Angelo.” He sighs. “I am your father.”

“You’re not.” I replied composed and calm. “You made me, sure, but you’re not my father, you’ve never been my father, Mr. Richardson. And I don’t want to you to start being my father.”

“Angelo, whatever you deny or do not deny, doesn’t change the fact that my blood runs through your veins, you’re my flesh, my blood, my son, surely in the last twenty eight years I’ve neglected my duties to you, but I want to start, and I want to start by including you in my will.”

“I am no beggar, Mr. Richardson.” I reply, the fact that he’s offering me money, makes my skin crawl with disgust.

“Angelo, as my eldest you have right on my belongings.” He says.

The door opens again. “Mrs. Richardson and master Richardson, for you.” The same serveuse announces stepping back letting the women, years younger then mama, body clad in a dress inappropriate for her age and blond hairs styled with perfection, enters the room, followed by two boys.

One seemed about twenty the other about in his mid teens.

“Angelo, my wife, Rebecca.” Aron introduced, I stand up shaking her hand, as she forwards it.

“How do you do, Angelo?” She says in a voice as if judging me and looks me up and down, taking in my appearance.

I take my seat back and open the menu book feeling zero interest in small talk.

I owe mama a big one for throwing me into this meeting.

Why would she do that?

She earns more then she can spend. I earn more then I can spend so why?

It can not be about the will.

Then why? What’s the women scheming?

“Angelo, meet my sons, this is Alexander.” Aron points to the older looking one dressed in a short and jeans. I nod in recognition. “The younger one is Dean.”

After that, I just stayed quiet minded my own business while I ate the food, it wasn’t anything like the inns. And I had grown weirdly accustomed with the inns food.

“So Angelo.” Rebecca asks. “What do you do?”

None of your business.

“Business.” I replied in a clipped tops wiping my lip with napkin placed on my lap.

“Everybody does business, don’t be vague.”

Disturbing.

“I own several clubs in Naples, Italy. Along with some restaurants.” I add. “Hope that’s not vague for you.”

The lady laughs.

“Is the village inn yours?” The older kid asks, curious.

“Yes.” I reply. “I half own the resort with my business partner.”

“That’s so cool.” The youngest says. “We stayed at the village inn for our vacation last year-”

“I was discussing about the will, with Angelo, before you all came in.” Aron says. “As per this amendment, I’d like for Angelo to have the business in Europe-”

“That’s absurd.” Rebecca pipes up. “Europe has more then forty percent investment of the company.”

“Forty eight percent.” Aron says. “And I am aware of that, Becca, thank you, I was hoping Angelo taking over Greece and Switzerland properties simply because it will be easier for him.”

“I don’t want it.” I replied. “I mentioned it before, I am no beggar, I am not here for pity money, I earn enough to buy all this and the rest.” I said. “I do not wish to be a part of your family Mr Richardson.”

“It might not be my place, Angelo.” Rebecca says. “But you’re ungrateful. And a brat. You’ve done nothing to deserve Aron’s hard earned money and to be honest, I was from the very first against from giving you a single penny from our company-”

“Rebecca that’s enough.” Aron sighed.

“No.” I replied. “Do go on, Mrs, Richardson, tell me how ungrateful I’ve been to my dear old papa.”

I don’t know, if it’s the change of my voice or the fact that my hand was already reaching for my trusted Mark from the front waist band of my slacks, that has all the colors drained from her face.

“I’d love to be enlightened.” I say. “Do go on.”

“You’re mother is a whore.” She says. “She’s a cunning bitch trying to rip my family apart when we are perfectly happy by sending her totally out of control juvenile son into our life.”

“My mother, Mrs. Richardson.” I grit out. “Is the only goddamn reason you’re sitting here dressed to impress and alive, might I add. Alyssa Giovanni doesn’t give two shits about your husband or your family or you pathetic money and neither do I. I am here because this meeting has been requested of me, not because I want to ruin your family.”

I throw the napkin on my plate, raise to my feet place, button my suit and pick up the gun.

“My mother, Mrs. Richardson sleeps on gold, walks on diamond. If you think Alyssa Giovanni gives two flying fucks about forty eight percent of Richardson industries, you’re highly mistaken. She alone, might I add earns enough a year to buy ten Richardson industries and still spare for charity.” I straighten my suit, hands in to the slack pockets.

“Your sister awaits your presence on the occasion of her fiftieth birthday, a formal invitation will be sent regarding the occasion to you and your family, Mr. Richardson.”

And then I turn around and leave.

“Angelo!” I hear Aron yelling from his chair.

And like that, he, his pathetic wife, his sons, all of them can go to hell and it will be the least of my goddamn worries.

I waited for my McLaren to pull up from the underground parking while pulling out my phone and press the recorded voice mail.

Ariel’s sweet yet nervous voice driffts through the speakers, something about her nervousness calms me down.

Slipping into the driver seat of my car, I back up the parking, do a turn driving slow till I am past the hotel compound.

I’ve been staying in Greece for two whole weeks.

The second I walked out of the airport in an SUV guarded by Leonidas Elias’s men, we were ambushed by the rivals resulting in me getting shot. One on my shoulder, the other below my ribs, a graze around my hip bone on the active gunfight in the highway.

I was out for eighty three hours, from the surgery and the one week on the bed, conducting business from the luxury of the guest room suite of the Elias estate.

While Leonidas pointed out at this time me travelling alone or without protection might cause my self harm he also pointed out that, I wasn’t leaving Greece until I was back on health.

The wounds were still raw and not dried. They were going to take time.

Roman was informed about the hit ordered on my head and placed a front line order of men hoarding me because as per his order, “I cannot afford to loose my Capo Bestone, Angelo. I need you back in Italy. Alive.”

Security on Ariel was tightened. Alberto stayed by her side 24/7. Gurads were placed all over the building, rotated and Roman personally saw to it.

My contact to anybody in Italy was disconnected for the apparent threat on their lives.

Ariel called. Left messages, called again. Stopped calling. Called again.

I ignored her calls. Declined them. Blocked her number, but I’d be lying if I didn’t crave my women.

I felt guilty for not picking her phone. But it was for her safety. The rival family’s eyes were on me. Watching my every goddamn move, my connections. My family.

I could bring Ariel to the hotspot of danger just because I wanted to hear her voice. It was just a matter of another week and I’ll be with her.

I parked the car in front of the estate gates watching Leonidas’s well built form, walk down the set of stairs, a small grin on his face.

“How was your play date, Capo Bestone?” He asked.

Me and Roman spent our college years in Greece with Leonidas Elias under his fathers supervision, attending college and training side by side.

“Play date was just so fun.” I replied sarcastically.

“Your parcel arrived from Botswana.” He acknowledged. “I hope you are going to tell me the reason you bought diamonds?”

Leonidas hands me a green velvet box, insides lined with golden silk as a strand of diamond laid on the cushion like surface.

“Just like you wanted?” He asks tracing a finger over the shining stones. “The purest and rarest. Pinks.”

“Just as I wanted, Leonidas, thank you.” I said.

“You paid, I just placed the order.” He said. “I am still not getting an answer who are these for, brother?”

“Off limits.” I smirk.

“Come on.” He chuckled. “You keep hearing that little voice mail of the sweetling and you refuse to give out any information about the girl that has you by the balls, Capo Bestone.”

“Nobody has me by the balls, Leonidas.” I shake my head.

“Tell me if she looks as exotic as she sounds.”

She’s more exotic to look at then she sounds.

“Personal.” I say patting his shoulder. “You leaving?”

“Yeah, boys fucked up some shipment.”

I nodded and watched the brown haired man walk to his car.

I carried the necklace box to the guest room suite with me, a maid following my every step along with wound dressing supplies.

I changed into a pair of dark silk pajamas and a dressing gown, with the front open as the women tended to my wounds, reapplying the bandages.

It was specifically ordered from Botswana, made with the purest and rarest of the pink diamonds with a white gold base.

This was supposed to be my tadpole’s twenty second birthday gift.

I was late for her birthday, and the situation we were in made it hard to communicate. So I called Alberto last night and asked if my tadpole enjoyed her big day.

As per Alberto, the women baked herself a chocolate cake and ate and the day before went outside got herself some old books and shopped for cloths. Walked her mutt and watched sappy movies at night with ice cream.

I asked if Blaire joined her in her adventure, Alberto replied in positive that they seemingly had fun. He mentioned my mother send her gifts along with mama Coralyn which made me mentally satisfied they were welcoming toward her.

Sighing, I placed the necklace on the nightstand drawer and leaned back against the headrest.

That night, I shared a meal with Leonidas talking about everything but necessary shit and then fell a sleep with Ariel’s one and only voice mail playing on repeat.

“Giovanni.” I said into the mouth piece of the phone as I poured myself a glass of scotch to help me sleep, the next night.

“Angelo.” The voice said making me exhale and ready to end the call. “Son.”

“Mr. Richardson.” I reply, almost forced. “How can I help you?”

“I’d like to see you again.” He says. “Maybe tomorrow for breakfast, it could be just you and me. No family, would you like that?”

“I was told for just one lunch, Mr. Richardson.” I say taking a sip of the iced scotch. “I’d rather it stays that way.”

“Please.” The older man implores. “I’d like to get to know you-”

“You had twenty eight years to get to know me, sir.” I replied to his voice. “I’ve seen you only once in my whole damn life. Once before yesterday. I’d rather we keep our ways separate.”

“Son-” He sighs.

“I am not, your son.” I gritted out. “Alyssa Giovanni is my mother, my father, my everything, you Aron Richardson have never been in my life when I needed a father. How about you be a father to your kids and forget about the bastard you created for good.”

“I have wronged you, I realise it, boy. I have wrong you, failed you as a father, I’d like to rectify it, I’ve failed your mother and I’d like to rectify it as well-”

“Don’t call me.” I hissed. “Don’t you dare call me to manipulate me, Mr. Richardson, or I’ll order a goddamn hit on your fucking head and your family’s mind you, my hands don’t shake when I kill, Aron. It doesn’t.”

“You sound like your mother.” I hear a little bit of admiration in his voice. “She was a firecracker, indeed, something that she passed on to you. See me for breakfast tomorrow, Angelo. I’d like to go over a few things with you.”

I ended the call without replying and tossed the phone in the marbled bar counter top, draining my scotch with a single go.

This man was pissing me off.

I picked up my phone and dialled Roman.

“Boss?” I answered when the phone was answered.

“Oh, hey asshole.” A female voice said. “What you up to in Greece? Fucking girls with a flappy ass vagina?”

Jesus Christ!

What is she now? His bitch?

Picking up his phone.

“No seriously, what the fuck you doing? Why don’t you answer Bubble’s calls or call her, huh?” She asks.

“Put Roman on the phone.” I said massaging my temple.

“Put Roman on the phone.” She mocked me. “Answer me, why are you so adamant on hurting the girl who only cares for you, fucking cunt.”

“Blaire.” I warn. “Put Roman on the Goddamn phone.”

“He’s unavailable.” She says in a bored tone. “Accidentally bit his dick-”

I end the call. Honestly, I have no time for her bullshit.

Given that, shit is all that comes out of her mouth.

I toss the phone back into it’s place and pour myself another drink feeling the throb on my head increase.

I needed a release. It was getting too much on my part.

My phone vibrated again.

Roman.

I answered the call.

“Boss?”

“Angelo.” Roman asked concerned. “Everything alright, brother?”

“Sí-”

“Oh, everything is alright on his part just fine, that cunt is probably getting his cock sucked while my bubbles is crying her eyes out fucking asshole, fucking cunt, fucking limp cocked bastard-” I heard Blaire intervene with her loud mouth.

“Make her shut up.” I hissed.

“Blaire.” He warns. “Out. Now.”

There is a commotion on the other end after that and finally Roman pays attention to me.

“How did your lunch go, you with Aron?”

“I have been asked to attend a breakfast with him tomorrow.” I reply swirling my drink in the glass. “If it wasn’t for mama and her weakness, he would never be in the picture, in the first place.”

“What about your health?” He asks. “How are your wounds?”

“Healing.” I said looking at the white bandages in my dress robe covered body. “Leonidas is adamant and has cancelled the flight to Russia given that I need time to heal.

“You aren’t well enough to travel, Angelo.” He says. “I’m concerned. Shall I fly to Greece? I don’t trust those Greeks, not to put up a hit in you again-”

“You’d be the prime target if you step a foot here, Roman.” I say. “It’s better to loose Capo Bestone than to loose the Don, boss.”

“Maybe you should wait till Leonidas settles the matter.” He says. “The Russian’s can wait. We’ll call them over for some occasions and pay our respect with some bribe-”

“Don’t worry, I might be late then my scheduled time, but I’ll be in Italy. Alive.” I reply.

“I trust you, brother.” He says. “Do keep a watch on yourself.”

“Sí.” I replied. “How’s my girl?”

“Ariel?” He asks. “Women’s called me three times asking when she can get back at her dancing claiming she feels suffocated. I declined, after the attack, Angelo, I’d be lying if I say I wasn’t scared about mama the family, Ariel, Blaire- given that their tendency to attract trouble.”

“I agree.” I sigh. “Just-”

“I’ll have the guard rotating on a regular basis, Alberto is the best personal guard we have, Ariel will be okay, you need to land back to Italy soon, I cannot afford to hold back the board meetings and the members won’t sit down without Capo Bestone and neither would I, chiaro?”

(Clear?)

“Sí, boss.” I chuckle. “I’ll see you in a week-”

“I want you alive, Angelo.” I hear the worry in his voice. “That’s an order.”

“Sí, Don.” I reply. “I’ll see you in a week.”

“Sí.” He says.

After my call with Roman, I joined Leonidas for a late dinner.

“I feel that you’re taking too much trouble up on yourself, Angelo.” The blonde man said wiping his lip with a gold silk napkin. “You’re worrying too much, which isn’t like you.”

I shake my head, not agreeing with him.

“The Capo Bestone I knew wouldn’t be scared of any mother fucker trying to hurt him, what changed?” He asked.

“I’m still the same, Leonidas.” I reply. “Still the same.”

“I beg to defer.” He says. “It has something to do with the girl.”

I sigh. “Why are so adamant?”

“Come on.” He chuckles. “It’s funny how some sweetling has got you, Angelo mother fucking Giovanni by the fucking balls.”

“Nobody has me by the balls, Leonidas mother fucking Elias.” I mock his tone. “Fuck off.”

“I have my top most beauties practically laying at your feet, begging go be devoured, Angelo.” Leonidas says. “Yet you haven’t touched one of the whores, nothing. You haven’t lost your libido, have you?”

“My libido is perfect, Leonidas.” I shake my head.

He chuckles shaking his head as a maid enters our person dining space.

“Miss Cassandra Hector demands your presence, Boss.” She announces. “The future lady says it’s emergency.”

Leonidas’s jaw muscle ticks, the playful aura leaving him replacing it with pure boss mode.

“Tell miss Hector, that my dinner is more important then her emergency.” Leonidas says. “And the next time you call her the future lady, don’t expect yourself to take a next breath, leave.”

The maid leaves without another words.

“You’re too harsh.” I say as a matter of fact.

“I am exactly what she deservers, Amgelo.” Leonidas says. “She’s not here for any emergency, she’s here to put down her rights as my future wife and demand answers.”

I wipe my lips with the napkin. “As your future wife, don’t you think she has the right, Leonidas?” I ask.

“Angelo.” He points his fork at me. “I do not love the bitch, neither does she look appealing enough for me to fuck her, neither does she belong in my bed or in my life, I am a walking bank account for her, not a husband.”

“Then call it off.” I say. “Call the marriage off, you’re the boss now-”

“Too much money and drama involved, Angelo.” He sighs. “I promised her cunt of a father to wed and bed his daughter, even though as innocent and sweet as she appears, she’s a cunning whore.”

I laugh. “Leonidas, you don’t even talk the women for fucks sake-”

“I don’t need to.” He says. “I am not here to create romance, she’ll marry me, she’ll bare my children, She’ll live the life of the boss lady, end of the situation, what I do and do not do while she lives her luxurious life shouldn’t concern her.”

“Fine.” I say realising it’s a lost argument. “Whatever runs your wheels, Leonidas, whatever runs your wheels.”

We go back to eat dinner in silence, the playful mood between us dissolved.

“You know me, Angelo.” Leonidas says taking a sip of white wine. “A life of binding is not for me, I don’t see myself with her, Cassandra.”

“I’ve met Cassandra, Leonidas.” I say remembering the golden haired women with gentlest brown eyes and an equally gentle voice. Mature. Composed. Fashionable but not fancy.

“She seems very- mature and I am sure, if you do talk to the women, about cancelling this marriage, she would agree.”

Leonidas sighs. “I don’t stand back on my words, Angelo.”

“Then give her a goddamn chance, you’re the most bipolar man I’ve ever seen.” I chuckle.

“Loosen up a bit. Get to know her, maybe you’ll end up falling in love, who knows.”

Leonidas smirks in response shaking his head.

“You calling me bipolar, screams a screw loose in your head, Capo Bestone.” Leonidas chuckles.

I knew his knobs and wires were working. He wasn’t a man who would go back on his word.

He was also a man who would do whatever he goddamn pleased, no matter who he hurt in the way.

Leonidas was mad.

The next morning I met Aron Richardson for breakfast to the texted location.

I was early.

His sons were with him, once again breaking the promise that he made.

I ignored the duo, who are supposed to be my halfbrothers and took a seat once I was greeted.

“What would you like? Italian or Greek?” My father asked looking at the menu of the variety of cuisine that the restaurant served.

“Greek would be fine.” I replied impassively as I pulled out my vibrating phone.

Ariel.

I declined the call, pocketing the device.

Again.

Decline.

“You can pick up, it’s alright.” Aron said giving orders to a young waiter.

“I’ll have the Ladenia.” I say closing the menu book. “With soft boiled eggs, cappuccino and water.”

The phone rings again. “Excuse me.” I mutter checking the caller ID.

“Giovanni-”

“Capo Bestone.” Alberto’s voice drifts back at me. “It’s Signora Ariel.”

“What happened?” I ask keeling my voice steady. “What’s wrong with her?”

She just called me.

“It seemed as if Signora Ariel was- emotionally down too much since her birthday, she had a slight panic attack-”

“How’s she now?” I ask.

“She’s sleeping now.” Alberto said. “She did mention having disturbing dreams.”

“What kind?” I ask looking down at the white silk table cloth frowning. “Why wasn’t I made aware of this before?”

“Pardonami, boss.” Alberto says. “I think Signora Ariel would be fine by the time her body relaxes.” He says.

“Keep me posted.” I say. “She breathes, I need to know, she fucking trips over the goddamn carpet I need to know, do you fucking get me, Alberto?”

“Sí, boss.” He answers.

“One hair out of the line, one step out of my orders, one little thing happens to Ariel under your watch, you’re fucking ghost, are we clear?” I threaten.

“Sí, boss.”

“Call me when she wakes up.” I bark. “I need to know when she breathes, when she eats, when she sleeps, sí?”

“Sí, boss.”

I end the call.

“Problem, son?” Aron asks as a waiter arrives with our breakfast.

“No.” I reply.

“You sounded like it was a problem and you were ready to kill.” The youngest one point out. “Is it your girlfriend?”

“No.” I reply. “I thought you wanted to sort some things out, with me?”

“I did.” Aron says passing me a black folder. “Just sign them, I stand by my decision of what I want to do with my business, Angelo. I am getting old, I’d like quiet life now.”

“I can’t.” I reply. “There is no way I’ll be able to make back and forth.”

And that I don’t want your fucking money.

You van have it, shove it down your goddamn throat.

“Angelo.” I hear. “I hope you don’t mind me calling you Angelo, me and Dean don’t really have any wish for business or the family companies, it has always been out of our league, you’ve been into this world since before we were born, you understand business, you know it, we don’t, it’s not pity money, like you said yesterday. It’s your right, your inheritance, help us out, brother.”

I placed the folder on the table.

“You might have never considered us family, but we’ve known about you always and in one way or other you can say we did look up to you, since the rumors and the press briefing started on TV, Dean and I have been in awe of you, but we only saw you twice this time included, I am not saying we should play happy family, all I am saying is, please give us one chance to be your family, please.”

Flattery will only take these bastards so far.

“I’ll look at them, sign them and have them send back at you, before tonight.” I say closing the folder.

Just for the sake to shut these people the fuck up.

I can’t bare to sit through another meeting.

Nauseous.

“And as far as it goes to give a chance and consideration, I am not the one to consider or give a chance here. Life doesn’t give you chances Alexander, you have to snatch it. I’d like the names of the companies changed when I take over, that’s my only condition.”

“Whatever you want, son.”

---

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

This is the lo best chapter I’ve ever written in my history of writing. Lol. It took me two days to do this go through it, simply cause I was busy and sick. Lol.

So- eh - uh Let me know how you like it or not

-November.

15

So  wattpad is maybe glitching or something people say they cant read this part and vote or comment so I had to delete this chapter and then am publishing this a second time, so all of y’all can read it. Lost y’all vote and comments and fun. Lol.

Make sure to drop a heart and a star.

WARNING!!!

This chapter contains

streamy

sexual inter course. Any reader comfortable or unwilling to read that may skip the last part of the chapter and I assure you y’all won’t be missing nothing .

PS: my day just got shitter. God take the wheel.

I don’t ever classify myself as a jealous or territorial person.

Or given at any circumstances I wouldn’t think or say I am person that gets jealous easily.

Sure I have my fare share of temperamental issue and ego and pride but I am not a jealous person.

Or so I’d like to think.

But as of this moment, my feelings confuse me.

Even though I am sitting beside the man dressed in a light grey blue two piece suit with my legs crossed his free hand resting over my exposed thigh, I cannot help but feel the green emotion toward the lady ‘friend’ of theirs reaching out for him after every two or five seconds.

I’ve been counting.

I find it difficult to divert my eyes from Angelo right hand that held the caffé espresso cup after lunch while her one hand rested on his fore arm the other on her chest, talking in rapid French as if I didn’t catch a goddamn word coming out of her mouth.

A maid asked if I wanted espresso, with a small wave of my hand I declined and focused on the golden haired, women talking to Angelo as if he was entitled to her in somehow.

“Pour être honnête, tu me manques Angelo.  Vous ne visitez plus la France- “ She said in a whiny voice shaking her head, removing her hand from his forearm.

(To be honest, I miss you Angelo. You don’t visit France anymore-)

Angelo chuckled shaking his head and sipped his coffee, draining the shot of espresso.

Of course you missed him. I think mentally. What’s not to miss about all that?

The thought makes me scoff and roll my eyes.

Blaire was seated across from me and the glare she was throwing at Anne was enough to silently let me know that she was planning murder.

“Il me semble presque que vous avez complètement oublié le plaisir que nous avions!” Anne gushed ending her sentence with a giggle.

(It almost seems like to me that you absolutely forgot about the fun we used to had!)

“Absolument pas.  Je me souviens bien de notre plaisir, Anne.” Angelo nodded thoughtfully with a smirk gracing the corner of his lips.

(Absolutely not. I remember our fun just right, Anne.)

This is it.

I’ve had it.

I’ve successfully sat through this brunch for the sake of family but now this was just too much.

Too much.

I get up abruptly making Angelo’s hand drop from my thigh making him look up at me as I placed my napkin in the chair, indicating I’ll be back.

“Tadpole?” He asked with a frown.

“I’ll be back with the strawberries.” I announce with a spurious smile and leave the table making my way inside the house and into the main kitchen.

What a disaster. I think to myself as I grab the edges of the kitchen island and sigh.

Angelo after our heated and not so romantic coition, announced that it will he a family brunch.

I wasn’t made aware that a family ‘friend’ will also be joining us from France.

Who had a not so friendly history with Angelo and she made sure to gush about it at every chance in the lunch table.

Blaire and I didn’t get a chance to talk to each other but I am hoping that we would stay long enough so we can have a chat over a tub of ice cream and tell her how much I hate Mademoiselle Anne Beaumont.

She can go fuck whatever Italian dick she wants but she just leaves mine alone.

I aggressively grab the bowl of strawberries and place it on the wooden tray and add the small bowl of melted dark and milk chocolate dips on the tray to carry it outside.

And I almost succeed. Almost.

“Ariel!” Anne shrieks when I almost collide with her.

Jesus, I hate how weird my name sounds in French.

Ew.

“Anne.” I smile. “Almost didn’t see you there.”

She smiles at me in an almost mean way picking a strawberry from the bowl and biting into the juicy goodness.

“Something tells me you will be seeing me a lot after today, chéri.” She mocks me in her French accent. “Still playing whore and master I see.”

Now I wish I had Blaire’s hit it to hurt it temper.

I would’ve punched her on her perfect nose.

I’ve never played whore and master with Angelo.

It was consensual no strings attached sexual activity between two adults who messed up on the way.

I’ve never been Angelo’s or anybody’s whore.

I smile at her. “Still trying to procure the same dick, I see.”

Her cheeks turn red, but I don’t loose my smile.

Damn, I wish I had Blaire to back me up with more creative ways to shut her up.

There are some people you can’t just stand. She is one of them.

You can’t just stand Anne.

For example, you just can’t!

Balancing the tray on my one hand, I snatch the half eaten strawberry from her hand.

Those are mine.

I love strawberry and so Alyssa especially got these Mexican strawberries for me.

At least that’s what she mentioned before she left the lunch table patting my  shoulder.

Love getting pampered every now and then.

“C’était censé être à moi, ma chérie.” I say dropping the half eaten fruit on the kitchen floor.

(This was supposed to be mine, sweetheart.)

“Et je n’aime pas vraiment que les gens touchent mes affaires.” I add with my flattering smile.

(And I don’t really like people touching my stuff)

That was a waste of damn good strawberry and maybe rude my part.

But think about it.

She’s been fingerings Anglo and Roman at once like no body’s dad’s business.

Anne’s red cheeks turned even more red when I squash the fruit using the toe of my heels, eyes boring into her baby blue ones.

“You think Angelo will settle for a whore?” She spats making me frown.

“Angelo Giovanni would never settle down with a fucking whore who sells her body to please pathetic men-” She added, her true feeling toward me showing.

She never liked me anyway and did I ever say or do anything mean to her?

Nope.

Plus she needs to add some more to her insult book.

“Well, that’s sad for you, isn’t it?” I retort, trying a bit of sarcasm. “Poor thing.”

I don’t stretch the cat mouse bickering anymore as I walk out of the kitchen leaving a bewildered and fuming Anne behind me and walk into the outdoor sitting arrangement placed especially for this lunch.

After the main meal the elders, Alyssa, Donna Coralyn, Don Marcus went up to his study to share their coffee leaving us here to ‘catch up’

I don’t know what everybody was catching up, but I was catching up some severe nausea.

I place the tray on the middle of the table and take a seat on my chair after retrieving my napkin.

“Where’s Anne?” Angelo asked placing his hand back on my thigh and grabbing a strawberry from the bowl dipping it into the dark chocolate.

“Why, you seem too keen about her whereabouts.” I say, my voice low as I place my napkin on my lap.

“Why don’t you go find your where your precious Anne is?” I add not bothering to look up at him starring down at me.

“Tadpole.” He warns.

“What?” I ask frowning, finally facing him

Sighing he shook his head and popped the juicy fruit in his mouth.

“So you two gonna pretend that nothing on this table happened?” Blaire broke the uncomfortable silence looming over between the four of us.

Yes, thank you babe.

“Blaire.” Roman warned placing his phone face down. “Quiet.”

No. Roman, you be quiet.

“Oh, you shut the fuck up.” She yelled at the Don. “There is a limit and time and place for being insulted and this…” She gestures at the whole table arrangement “Was neither and I’ve had enough.”

“Blaire, enough!” Roman barks.

“Fuck you.” She said. “And fuck him!” She pointed at Angelo. “Fuck you both coward cunts for acting like how a mouthy bitch groping your dicks was the most normal thing ever.”

“Why are you so childish?” Roman asks turning to face her, a frown resting on his face.

You know what?

Don’t stop Blaire.

Yell louder. I think mentally.

“Oh, I am childish?” She places her hand on her chest mocking Anne. “Monsieur, you haven’t seen childish-”

“This is it.” Roman sighs in vanquish. “I am done.” He drops his napkin on the table before getting up leaving, buttoning his suit jacket in the process.

“Yes, Walk away Roman.” She shouts from her chair, hands gripping both the arm rests. “Walk away every time we need to address an issue. Bastard.”

Turning Blaire grabs a handful of berries popping one whole in her mouth, chewing with a purpose.

I pick a luscious one out of the pile and dip the juicy goodness in melted chocolate and bring it to my lips biting the chocolate coated surface.

Both me and Blaire enjoy the fruit not bothered by Angelo’s presence.

He too after a moment sighs and leaves.

“Are you and Roman having troubles?” I ask.

“Oh we will be definitely having troubles after this.” Blaire says. “I’m not gonna let this go so easy. We maybe just fucking but that doesn’t give him a right to treat  me like a juvenile nut case on parole.”

“This is so much, stupid.” I say grabbing another berry. “I’ve never liked Anne and trust me the feelings mutual.”

“You’ve met miss I am so posh that you feel like dirt  before?”

“Yep.” I agree. “I met her first time when Angelo and I just started…we weren’t like this before it was just pure physical needs being satisfied thingy. She called me a servant the first day she saw me, I ignored it and then the next day she saw me at the club again, I was ordering a drink after my shift and she made some comments that I didn’t like and I replied that she had no reason to be salty with me because I wasn’t fucking her dad-” I shrug. “One sentence turned into two and I left the premise not wanting to pick up a fight.”

“It’s not wrong if a fight breaks out as a result of you trying to defending yourself.” Blaire says.

Maybe it’s true but I am not a violent person.

I try to avoid it even though sometimes I can’t but let some words slip that I very much mean.

“Anyways so she left to her croissant country after that and the second time I saw her was just before Angelo and I’s-” I say.

Blaire nods.

“We were going at pretty weird rate at that moment, Angelo was all over me, I was all over the man, it was a mess…now that I think.” I sigh.

“So that’s the third time I saw her and she was still stuck on calling me master’s pet, a whore and blah blah blah.” I shrug. “She’s immature.”

“She’s stupid is what she is.” Blaire says. “And has zero respect for woman kind if she thinks fondling men in presence of their consort is an act of friendship.”

I shrug. “It’s probably normal for her.”

“Well, it’s not normal for me or your or their mothers, she needs to see what’s normal for who and what action of her is making who uncomfortable in the process.”

I nod.

Blaire rarely talks sense. This is one of those rare moments.

“I doubt the friend term goes too long for the three of them.” Blaire retorts.

“You have no idea.” I mumble shaking my head.

Anne graces us with her presence once more, looking more calm and happy then she was in the kitchen.

“Did the men left?” She asked.

“Roman and Angelo is in Roman’s office if that’s what you’re asking.” Blaire says with an eye roll.

“Did anybody tell you you’re too rude for your position?” Anne asked narrowing an eye at her.

“Did anybody tell you that you’re talking too much for your place, Anne?” I ask turning to her. “You’re a guest to this family, please behave like it.”

“Oh, we’ll see who’s a guest, Ariel.” She mocks with a snort.

“Oh, that we definitely will.” Blaire retorts.

“Va trouver tes amis.” She added putting extra effort in the tes amis.

(Go find your friends)

“Parfois, je me sens si mal pour mes amis.  Ils auraient pu faire tellement mieux.” Anne says with a shake of her head sighing.

(Sometimes, I feel so bad for my friends. They could’ve done so much better.)

“I know right.” Blaire says. “I feel bad for them too.”

After Anne leaves fuming and cussing us in French about how low life whores we were in the name of women, Blaire and I talk some more over the bowl of strawberry and melted chocolate before a maid announces that it was time to leave.

Blaire and I get up at the same time and follow the dressed women toward the main exit where two sports cars were parked.

Angelo and Roman said their goodbyes to their parents, I hugged Alyssa who kissed both my cheeks and give Donna Coralyn a hug, kiss the back of Don Marcus’s hand as per tradition.

“It was nice having you, Ariel.” Donna Coralyn says, standing in the protective cocoon of her husband’s arm.

“Thank you for having me.” I smiled.

“Well you should come over more.” She pouts. “All Blaire does is eat and sleep and repeat. I swear she steals my snacks on purpose.”

“I do not!” Blaire says fake gasping. “How could you.”

“Well you do.” Donna Coralyn accuses pouting. “I know you do. You stole my pudding that day.”

“It was good pudding!” Blaire hugs the petite woman. “You so cute. I love stealing your food.”

Alyssa hugged me one last time before she hugged Blaire patted her cheeks adoringly.

“Where will you be staying, Anne?” Alyssa asks when a third car, an SUV gets parked at the back of Roman and Angelo’s car.

“At my father’s pent house, Miss Giovanni.” She smiled, a purse in the crook of her arm and gave a wave turning back and walking toward her SUV before the black vehicle pulled away.

“She’s so- mean.” Coralyn complained. “Like- why? Respect the people hosting you for God’s sake.”

Even she doesn’t like Anne.

And there isn’t a person who the former Donna doesn’t like.

“Mama.” Roman admonished.

“Go on.” Blaire hissed at him. “Why don’t you describe one-oh-one reason to love Anne to your mama.”

“It’s parenting gone wrong, biscuit.” Alyssa sighs. “Anyway.”

Roman glares at the girl silently as she pays her goodbye to the family.

After I slip onto the passenger seat of the white McLaren, I wave the family one last goodbye as Angelo pulls out of the driveway.

It takes us two minutes to circle the estate and get into the dirt road when Angelo downs the roof of the car.

The evening air whips on my face as I slide the rubber band off my hair freeing the bubblegum pink curls shaking my head, letting my hair breathe and dance about in the late afternoon breeze.

God, the air feels good. I think.

“You look gorgeous.” I hear.

“I know.” I reply without looking at him.

Kiss my ass, Giovanni. I think mentally.

His audacity leaves me spellbound in so many places.

He knows what happened and yet he’s acting so damn normal like Anne didn’t almost suck his dick during lunch.

“Are you mad at me, baby?” He asks reaching for my hand but I move mine away.

I’m going to be petty because I have 206 petty bones in my body.

“Now, we are going to be petty, are we?” He asks.

I don’t answer.

“Stop being fucking childish, Ariel.” He rasps.

“Oh I am childish, aren’t I?” I ask turning to face him from the lovely scenery outside.

“I am childish because I refuse to acknowledge you and you’re the mature one because you let your friend fondle you while I was sitting right beside you.”

Angelo looks at me like I’ve lost my marbles.

He can look at me however the fuck he wants.

I turn away and focus on the fields we pass before we hit the highways and finally stop in front of the building.

I don’t wait for Angelo to open my door or anything.

I get down from the car and inside the building, toward the private elevator, aware of Angelo at my heels as I press the codes to take us up.

The elevator ride between us is silent.

I don’t want to talk to him.

I just want go to bed and sleep it off.

“Ariel.” Angelo calls behind me as I step out of the elevator and loose my heels by the foyer along with my shoulder bag.

“Ariel.” He calls again, which results in me ignoring him once again.

How dare he calls me childish after how cuddly and friendly and touchy he’s been acting with his previous sex buddy.

I perfectly get what’s before me shouldn’t bother me.

But what’s before me if happens in front of me, bothers me call me stupid or petty.

“Ariel, that’s enough!” Angelo roared grabbing my hand and turning me abruptly so I face him.

“I expect an answer when I fucking address you, tadpole.” He rasps.

“There is no reason for you to be jealous.” He says, his dark eyes boring into mine, angry.

“I am not jealous.” I spat.

“You’re acting like a five fucking year old.” He yells. “What is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with you?” I yell back.

“What do you want huh?” He asks grabbing both of my upper arms in his iron grip, jerking my body close to him.

“What do you want? Don’t want me, can’t stand somebody wanting me, Won’t live with me me won’t let anybody living with me, what the fuck do you want, Ariel?” He asks, pupils dilated.

Angelo angry turns me on, big time.

Even if I am mad at him, can’t stand him at the moment, his eyes does things to even.

Being on my last nerve, he still manages to make me soak down there.

“I want you to fuck me to sleep.” I whisper, my body reacting in exact opposite ways then my brain as I look him in the eyes.

Angelo inhales deeply, his nostrils flaring. “You want me to fuck you to sleep, baby?” He rasps.

“Yes.” I challenge.

Angelo doesn’t wait a second to unzip his fly and turn me around, press my front against the wall, flick my dress up so it bunches around my waist, pulling my lace panties aside and sliding his hard girth into my warm wet heat.

“Is this what you want, tadpole?” He asks wrapping my hair around his wrist and pulling my head back so he can see me. “You want me to fuck the jealousy out of you?”

“I am not-” I gasp as Angelo roughly pulls out and pushes in, rotating his hips. “I am not, jealous.”

“You don’t have anything to be jealous about.” He rasps picking up his pace placing a wet kiss on my mouth as my palms slap on the wall desperately holding on to whatever. “You’re mine. This is mine, sí? This cunt is mine.”

“Yes.” I rasp feeling his girth leave me and fill me at a lovely pace, draining me and filling me at the same time. In. Out.

In. Out.

“I need you to say it, Ariel.” He whispers against my cheek, his hot breath fanning my cheeks. “Say it.”

“This cunt is yours, Angelo.” I whisper before his lips meet mine, slow and sensual.

And you are mine. I repeat mentally.

I taste the strawberry, the dark chocolate, the nicotine on him as his pace inside me slows down into more passionate deep strokes.

I moan into his mouth as his free hand roam around my body, my waist, my stomach, the valley between my breast, cupping my breast one at a time as he fucks me painfully slow.

“Oh, Angelo.” I moan when we break away from the kiss. “Oh, fuck.” I cry leaning my head against his chest as his grip on my hair loosens, and both of the large palms cup my heavy breast, running the thumbs over the stoned nipples.

“Angelo.” I cry as I feel him throb and pulse inside me.

“Hush baby.” He whispers. “Take it.”

“Make me cum!” I demand my left hand leaving the wall and finding the sensitive nub as I start to rub desperate for a release.

Angelo slaps away my hand, groaning, before lacing our fingers together and placing them on the wall.

His pace still painfully slow and he’s achingly deep.

“Oh, Lord!” I moan feeling as if I could rip hairs from my own head from the delaying of my orgasm.

“Cum with me, baby.” He whispers against my cheek, as he pushes abruptly deeper making my inside muscle snuggle him, throbbing, pulsing inside me.

Ready to drench me with his arousal.

Angelo let’s out an almost inaudible moan. “Fuck. I am close.”

“Yes.” I cry out meeting his thrust by lifting off my hips. “Please.”

Angelo sighs when I meet his pace slow and sensual bringing each other close to our release.

“Jesus, Baby.” He sighs, his head dropping, resting against the wall, hands pulling me even more closer to himself as I feel him swell inside me, my legs numbing.

We ride out our high together taking a moment to get our breathing going.

“Are you still mad at me?” He asks placing a kiss on the corner of my chin, my body still sandwiched between him and the wall.

“Yes.” I rasp. “You needed to-”

“Fuck you to sleep, yes.” He huskily says, I feel him harden against my behind again. “Let’s go up and I’ll precisely do that  tadpole.”

I smile pushing myself away from the wall after Angelo distances himself from my quivering body.

I jog upstairs, hastily open the bedroom door, Angelo slips inside behind me, kicks the door shut and slips my dress off my body along with my lace padded bra, pulls my panties roughly to one side causing the lace to rip before he slides inside again, making me moan as he hoists me up against the door.

I wrap my legs around his waist, his mouth on my breasts, teasing, licking, sucking, nibbling before he picks up his monstrous pace again.

Hard, fast, rough, mean- fucking me.

“This is what you need?” He rasps. His longer then normal hair a mess. “You need the reassurance fucked into you, baby?”

I moan my hands digging into his shoulder, his mouth latched on to the crook of my neck marking me, his cock pulsing inside me.

“I’m going to fuck fuck the juvenile out of you, baby.” He hisses pushing his hips harder, rotating them making my eyes roll back as I grab on to him for dear life.

Angelo pulls out of me making me cry from the empty feeling and walks us to bed dropping me on the surface he braces his knee on the edge, pulls my legs around his waist slamming balls deep inside.

Crying out, I grab the bedsheets with both fists, back arching up with need and want as Anglo fuck me.

Really fucks me.

Inside and out. His mouth on my breasts, his hands kneading my ass, cock red, angry throbbing inside me, filling me and leaving me empty as I cry out over and over again from the tremor of orgasms that rip through me throughout the evening and into the night.

Until, I fall asleep.

16

Note: I realised I had a draft and got impatient. Lol.

Anyway enjoy and updates will on a three day gap.❤

I ran myself a hot a bath the first thing after I got up from sleep the next morning.

I was tired, sore and hungry.

Sometime around the morning, I felt Angelo wake up and shower and get dressed and leave to wherever.

At this point I don’t even want to know where he went, only to add fuel to the already burning fire inside my chest.

From my spa and bath essential supplies, I added a generous amount citrus bath salts, on the a level up then warm water and stepped into the bathtub, spreading my legs as far as they’ll go to let the warm water soothe my throbbing core.

What a monster. I thought and I fingered my hair untangling them from the knots.

But then again, I was the one demanding so I can’t really complain.

I stayed in the same position till the water cooled, pulled the plug of the tub to let the water drain and added some more water along with salts to make me feel better.

My legs were achy, my pussy was throbbing, constantly wet, my arms hurt, my head was spinning.

And all I could hear was my loud screams from last night as Angelo’s throbbing dick pummeled me.

I don’t even remember how many times I came and how many positions we changed until I passed out.

Stepping out of the tub another five minutes later, pondering about what’s wrong with me, I wrap myself in a towel and walk back into the bedroom falling on to the bed.

I was done for the day. I needed some food and sleep. Good quantity of sleep.

The knock on the door made me groan.

“Ariel?” Bertie’s strong but gentle voice came muffled from the other side.

Jesus.

Getting up, I discarded the towel and pulled a robe over my naked self tying a knot on my mid stomach as I opened the door for Bertie.

He had Coco by the leash who yapped from happiness seeing me.

As we went to the brunch last day, Berrie took Coco to his place with him since he was dismissed for the day.

And I was glad Coco made a friend.

“Hey, Bert.” I say kneeling down and fondling my mutt. “He did not trouble you too much, did he?” I ask.

“I was wondering about getting him checked actually.” Bertie said. “All he does is watch TV and sleep, I don’t know, aren’t dogs supposed to be energetic.”

I shrug. “He’s like this since I got him.”

Bertie nods. “Capo Bestone called to make sure you’re fed.”

I roll my eyes. “And where is this Capo Bestone of yours?”

“I am unaware of the Boss’s whereabouts.” He says, clearly lying with a straight face.

“But he ordered meal for you from the inn and it’s sitting in the kitchen.” He adds.

I share breakfast with Bertie even though he don’t want them but I still do.

I play with Coco for a while and debate calling Angelo.

Nope.

I am pretty sure he’s fucking his French friend so I’d rather not intervene in his business.

I make a simple lunch of flat bread sandwich and slap some cheese and eat by myself while watching reality TV shows since Bertie refuses to eat.

After that I feed Coco and sit to do my nails.

These past three weeks, waiting and worrying, I completely ignored myself.

I was also getting lazy from not working. I hated being lazy.

My nails were not perfected as as usual, I was not perfectly presentable as usual since I took a break.

I had no idea if I still had the job or not?

The Ariel who danced five days a week looked damn gorgeous even with sweat matting her body.

The Ariel that stares back at me from behind mirror of the dressing room table looks tired and in need of sleep and self care.

I missed the ballet auditorium. I missed the whiney kids.

I missed the small five year old to ten year old munchkins constantly huffing and puffing to perfect one single move.

I missed the sensual music at the club, the way my body reacted on those twelve feet poles, the cheers, the feeling of euphoria while the music took over me.

I missed living.

This is prison. I mentally think to myself as I use a nail file to oval out my nails.

They were not overly grown or long like acrylics people put on these days, decent length, enough to hurt an asshole if he steps over the line.

Which I am sure I’ll be doing once Angelo is home.

After I file out all ten of the nails, I dip them in warm water for a while to loosen the dead skin and use coconut oil to clean them and then wash with hand soap before smothering hand cream.

Finishing my almost twenty minute business in the bathroom alternating between standing before the wash sink and sitting in the toilet seat, I walk out and sit in front of the dressing table and open my large make up bag.

Being a stripper had it’s perks. The club offers make up in the green room but I wasn’t gonna smother my face with powder and brush used by a lot other girls, no thank you.

I buy my own stuff.

Selecting a bottle of maroon nail lacquer to paint my nails and add slight gold details as much as my amateur self allows me.

I was blowing my wet nail paint dry when the sound of the door knocking came to my ears.

“A second.” I called to Bertie.

That man wouldn’t even step inside the bedroom even the door was opened.

“Open the damn door you!” I heard Blaire whiney voice from the other end still beating on the door like a mad women making me run across the room instead of just walking like a normal person and swinging the door open.

“Oi?” She greeted, looking me up and down with a suggestive look. “Nails look good, mama.” She complimented.

“Thank you!” I squeak and hug her tightly for the second time.

“You do mine too, mine look like a panda’s.” She said showing me her bitten uneven nails.

Look at her demanding.

Well, at least I have some stuff to do.

I spread a towel on the bed and use that as make shift nail salon for Blaire as I clip them to shape and file them and tell her use the coconut oil to clean her nail and kick her into the bathroom to wash her filthy hands and smear my hand cream over her hands.

“I’m allergic to almonds.” She complains reading the ingredient behind the cream tube. “Some people be really putting nuts into these stuff.”

“It’s nut less.” I say. “It’s grape seed oil based”

“I trust you not to make my hands swell the size of Roman’s nuts.”

I snort at her analogy, given that I have no idea about Roman’s balls.

“Besides, you get allergies if you eat almond.” I point out.

“I’d not take a risk and walk around with Roman’s balls for hands.” She quips rummaging through my makeup bag compartment where there are the bottles of nail lacquer, like greedy little shit.

“Okay, I want blue and yellow, swirls like yours.” She demands.

“On this finger I want just yellow.” She shows me her ring fingers.

“Look at you demanding like you’re paying me.” I mumble shaking the container of blue nail paint.

“Oh wait.” She says looking for some more colors. “I don’t want that stupid yellow, I want neon yellow.”

“Your color sense, sucks.” I say snatching the bottle from her hand. “How bout we do silver? That’s classy.”

“I want them bitchy.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Like a bad ass.”

“Okay.” I agree. “Okay, let’s do them black.”

“And neon yellow!” She screams.

I decline her whiney childish offer and paint her nails black and paint her ring nails maroon.

“Okay.” Blaire examines her nails. “They look good, so I am not mad.”

“Bitch.” I narrow my eyes at her and hand her a transparent top coat.

We do our toes next giggling and laughing like fifteen year olds until Blaire stops laughing at one point and frowns.

“Ariel?” She asks.

“Yeah?” I ask dragging the transparent coat through my big toe.

“Don’t you ever wander how little we know about each other?” She asks serious all of a sudden.

“Not really.” I answer truthfully. “I feel like I know you enough.”

“We practically don’t know anything about each other.” She says. “And yet, look we talk like we know each other for the whole life-”

“Maybe we were besties in previous life.” I mutter, not really knowing where she is going with this topic.

“Maybe.” She shrugs. “I feel like I’ve known you forever.”

“Me too.” I agree.

Like I sad in the beginning. Where she comes from is not my headache.

She can be a princess or a homeless truck driver or a mutant and I’d still love her the same.

Sometimes to love a person you don’t really need to know a lot about them, to be honest.

“What about your parents?” She asks abruptly capping the nail lacquer and tossing it on to the bag.

I shrug. “I haven’t talked to them for a while.”

“My dada died sometime ago, my mum hates me.” She volunteers.

How could anybody ever hate you, Blaire?

“Why?” I ask.

“My Dada, he left a hefty amount of money for me. They become mine when I turn twenty two. My mum wants them, she wants me practically deceased.” She chuckles shaking her head.

“Sounds like a mean- lady to me.” The word bitch lingering on the tip of my tongue.

“She’s a straight bitch alright.” She snorts.

“Choosing money over blood. Women like that shouldn’t be allowed to be mothers for fucks sake. A lot of women want kids but they don’t get to have ’em, then there is Janice Anderson.” She shakes her head. “I hate her back, if that helps.”

“Why is your sudden outburst?” I ask her.

Blaire rarely talks about deep stuff and this is going deep stuff.

“I’ve been thinking about it-” She says softly.

“About choosing money over flesh?” I joke trying to lighten her mood.

“No.” She says. “No. Kids.”

“What about them?”

I don’t think about kids anymore.

I am still trying to forget the one I had.

“Do you want kids?” I ask tentatively.

“Not really.” She sighs. “Not really, I don’t.”

“Then what are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.” She say. “Forget it. Whatever.” She sighs.

“You’re not pregnant are you?” I ask horror flashing over my face.

Jesus God.

Blaire, oh Goodness.

“No!” She shrikes. “Jesus Christ, no.”

“Oh.” I exhale. “Okay.”

“Are you sure?” I press.

“Yes.” She laughs. “I went to a doctor before your birthday, she checked me up and put me on birth controls. I am safe.”

“Okay.” I sigh.

“I was scared, I might be.” She whispered. “I mean, I heard morning after pills fail-”

“You were having condom less sex?” I ask  horror all over my face. “Blaire!”

The last thing she needs right now is an unplanned pregnancy.

Possibly an abortion.

A broken heart and more mess then she can collect herself cause I for one know Roman won’t be there to pick up the pieces.

In this life, in the mafia life, a class, a marriage is required to bring a Don’s or  Capo Bestone’s child in this world.

And for that Roman sure screams a lot for the man who killed his fiancé.

“Twice.” She says holding two fingers up. “Twice. I am fine, I make Roman wear a condom. I don’t want another scare or a pregnancy. Period. Kids make me vomit.”

I nod and pick up my phone to see the time.

Six thirty.

“How long have we been doing this shit?” Blaire asks eyeing our meni-pedi supplies on the bed.

I giggle.

“You’re staying for dinner.” I declare clearing off my supplies from the bed and put them in places.

“Roman might throw a fit.” She crinkles up her nose.

And since when does she care?

“But who cares?” She says plopping down on the bed in a seductive position. “I’m not complaining about him fucking miss croissant, so who is he to boss me?”

“That’s Angelo’s side.” I point out.

“Ew.” She shots up from the bed and proceeds to dust the invisible dirt off, of her body. “Cooties.”

I laugh making my way down stairs to the kitchen.

“What are you gonna make?” Blaire asks sitting herself down in the counter making herself helpful.

“Pasta.” I say. “Tortellini.”

“I don’t know what that is.” She says. “But yeah okay.”

“Remember we had ravioli?” I say bringing the packets of frozen tortellini from the freezer. “It’s same with just a different shape.”

She nods as I take out the pre made pasta from the packets and put them aside.

“Chuck it in the oven.” Blaire says as I take out pre blanched tomato cans. Two of them.

“It’ll get cooked too much.” I say.

“Cooking is hard-”

“Signora Ariel?” I hear Bertie’s voice as he stands behind the kitchen counter.

“Hey, Bert. I then back with a smile ready to ask him what he wants with his pasta.

“Capo Bestone and Don said they won’t be home tonight and that signora Blaire is allowed to stay at the penthouse.”

“Lies!” Blaire retorts. “Roman said he has just one meeting-”

“I delivered what I was told to.”

“And where is Capo Bestone and Don?” I ask. “Don’t lie, Bert.”

The man sighs realising he was lost. “Minx.”

“That’s it.” I say throwing the rag I was using to open the tomato cans in the counter. “That’s where he’s been all day, hasn’t he?”

“Sí.” He says.

“Even though he was given a week off, he was at the club.” I say. “And correct me if I am wrong, Anne is there too?”

Alberto sighs. “Sí.”

“We’re going clubbing.” Blaire says jumping down from the counter and putting the pasta back on the freezer.

“I don’t think if that’s a good idea.” Bertie says.

“I’d like the car ready please, Bertie.” I say in a soft voice feeling hurt and betrayed.

“Ariel.” He sighs.

“Please.” I say.

Bertie stands for a moment assessing that is his loyalty to his boss more important or the hurt in my voice more painful for him.

“The car will be ready in five.” The man says.

I nod him off.

Nothing of mine fits Blaire. It’s a size big and a size short.

It was frustrating me until I pulled out a skirt from the very back of the wardrobe drawer.

“There.” I handed it over to her with a top that was stringy at the back, so it would fit.

“You don’t even wear these kind of dress.” She complains loudly. “Sluty.”

I crack a forged smile as I fumble with my black bodycon with spaghetti straps.

I wore this dress twice.

I rarely have time, for clubbing.

And this isn’t how I wanted Blaire and It’s clubbing date to initiate.

“Good thing we painted our nails though.” Blaire says.

I could tell she was nervous.

I wasn’t. I was hurt.

Just- hurt.

He fucks me all night, reassures me, sleeps beside me and just wakes up to go back where left off last night? To her?

We get dressed quick, finish off with minimal make up and put our shoes on before we make ways downstairs where the assigned SUV with windows tinted black stood, Bertie sitting behind the steering wheel.

Blaire was nervous and upset.

I have no idea what scenario was playing through her head but it clearly wasn’t a good one given that she kept bouncing her knee and running her fingers through her wavy hair.

I looked out of the window as the car pulled through the busy road into the heart of the city.

My head a mess. More then usual.

It was a five to ten minute drive from the pent house to the club and soon we parked into the entrance as Bertie got out and solved it with the bouncer before opening the door for us.

“You have somebody looking after, Coco, don’t you?” I ask the man fumbling with the chain strap of my clutch.

“Sí.” Bertie agrees. “You can still turn around and have a quiet night in-”

“No.” I whisper. “I’d like to see what he’s doing to celebrate his break with his old friend , Bertie.”

“Ariel-”

“I’ve waited three weeks.” I say years threatening to leave.

Why am I even emotional?

Angelo has been like this since forever.

He does whatever he wants to.

“I’ve cried my self to self often scared and worried, tensed to death and this is the pay back I get.”

“Ariel, please.” He says torn between his loyalty and friendship that he developed with me. “Just get in the car and I’ll drive both of you back to penthouse-”

I shake my head patting his chest as I make my way to the club entrance closely followed by Blaire.

The bouncer doesn’t ask for ID or anything, neither do we have to shove a roll of cash on to his hand we just get past the line and into the heavy surrounding of the club premises.

It was packed.

Men on the way from office, ladies for a girls night out, friends looking for a good fuck, twisted cops, high government officials, old men desperate for a good time away from the nagging of their wives-

Blaire and I make way to the half circular bar where the barman accompanied by some other barman was mixing several cocktails.

“This place is jammed.” Blaire says squeezing both of us in among the mesh of people standing to order drink.

“I doubt they’ll find us, in this human sea.” Blaire complains.

“Oh trust me, they will.” I roll my eyes my heels clicking to the floor as I wait for our turn to order.

And I don’t care if they don’t. Angelo can come and kiss my ass.

“Two chocolate milk in the rocks.” I say. “Put whipped cream on top. Lots of it and put the bills on my tab.”

The barman nods recognising my face even though I look nothing like I do on regular work nights.

“On the contrary.” I hear a voice instead. “Put the beautiful lady’s drinks on my tab instead.”

It’s not a voice or a face that I recognise, but Blaire grabs my arm in grip, I pat her to cool down.

“And why would he do that?” I ask leaning against the bar edge. “I don’t know you.”

“I do hope you’d like to know me.” The man says with a slight smirk. I can’t really place his accent.

It’s weirdly mixed.

“What makes you think there is something to know about you, Mr-”

“Mikhail Ivanov.” He says. “You can call me Mike.”

“Well Mr. Ivanov.” Blaire pipes up. “We have enough money to buy some drinks for ourselves thank you.”

Jesus, Blaire, down.

“We’ll find you when we’re out of cash, though.” She smiles. “Lovely offer you gave us-”

“I like your friend.” He chuckles. “Where you from sweetheart?”

“Geographically I’m from 52.3°N, 1.1°W. Right now I’m from Naples, Italy.” She smiles meanly.

The man looks confused. “What are you?” He chuckles.

“Human, of course.” Blaire says as if it’s most obvious thing ever and grabs her drink from the barman and nudges me to do the same then pulls me away from the presence of Mikhail Ivanov.

“That bitch had a gun, Ariel.” She hisses once were away and have found ourselves a high table. “You were flirting with a bitch with a gun who talks weird.” She hissed.

“You sleep with a man who is a pathological killer.” I point out she dismisses me with a wave of her hand and a click of her tongue. “I sleep with a man who is a psychotic asshole who’d put bullets in the skull and threat later-”

“He talks weird.” She says. “Like if he’s the kind of people who kidnaps girls and cuts open their liver and has it for dinner!” She whines.

I sigh.

“Blaire.”

“What?” She cries dramatically.

“Were under protection.” I say. “There are CCTV all around.” I add.

“Oh.” She registers.

I nod.

“Well I still don’t like Mikhail Ivanov or whatever the vodka fuck.”

I shake my head and use the straw to sip my drink.

“I missed this place though.” She complains. “Let’s go see the dance.”

Reluctantly she walks me toward the strip club part of the club through the hallway that was too well known to us.

“Damn look at all that booty shaking.” Blaire hoots curling a finger in her mouth and whistling loudly as she enjoys the dance.

Is this what we’re doing here? Watching strip dance?

This is the most exposed part of the club that is seen directly from the VIP deck and the office.

Gold job, Blaire bear.

“I swear if the piglets don’t see us now, I have no idea when they will.” Blaire says licking the whipped cream using her tongue.

“They probably won’t.” She shrugs. “They’re probably balls deep inside miss croissant. At once.”

Her imagination makes me wince. “That sounds scary.”

Blaire shrugs whistling and hitting and clapping again.

She’s clearly enjoying this.

“This look oddly satisfying when I watching this.” I comment. “Like- this is art.”

“I know right.” Blaire says. “I wish I had good shake able booty too.”

“Booty exercise helps-” I say

“Signora Ariel?” I hear a rumbly deep voice. “Signora Blaire?”

I turn to face the burly man, muscles the size of two Blaire’s standing behind us, body clad in a work suit.

“The Boss would like to have an audience with you two.” He says.

“Which one of your boss?” I ask raising am eyebrow.

“Both, Miss.” He says narrowing his eyes not liking the talk backs.

“Well, tell them fuck off.” Blaire says.

“Orders are to hurl you if necessary.” He says back.

“Especially you.” He points at Blaire.

“Of course.” Blaire smiles flirtatiously.

“Roman hates me minus the time he’s inside me, then he loves me, Oh, Blaire.” She moans mocking Roman’s accent.

“Tell him to wank himself to death and leave me alone cause if I see him right now, I’ll strangle him.” She hisses. “With his dick.”

“Miss Ariel?” Unprovoked he turns to me.

“What?” I ask as my eyes trail up toward the VIP deck.

Roman wasn’t there. Angelo was.

He had lost his suit jacket, black silk shirt donned his muscular frame, the top several buttons undone, chain dangling from the neck baring a white gold cross while he watches me with intent determination.

I divert my eyes from the man leaning against the VIP deck.

“If he wants an audience with me, tell him to come find me and stop sending his representatives. I deserve that much.” I snap turning my head and focusing on the dancers on stage four.

I want to get back up there, feel the excitement vibrating through me. Feeling how my body reacts to attention.

Damn if I don’t miss myself up on that stage.

“Talking big now, are we?” I hear him before his smell evade me.

The expensive spicy citrus and woody scent sends my head into a frenzy.

And then I feel his hands on me. Around my waist pulling me back so my behind snuggles his restrained erection.

“You look edible but I am debating if punishment comes first.”

17

Ariel looked gorgeous tonight.

Beyond gorgeous.

The tight dress fit her curves like a second skin, she painted her succulent lips the darkest shade of red, the fiery anger in her eyes added to her beauty, even if not more.

Her heels clicked along the floor of the club as she walked toward the office with me following behind her though the stairs.

Her shapely hips moving with each step she took, her heels adding to the volume.

Her hands were occupied with the purse she carried, as she waited patiently for me to open the office door using my card.

Pushing the door open, I stepped into the empty room.

It smelled heavily of nicotine and whiskey blend.

A result of mine, Roman and Anne’s private meeting the hour prior.

Ariel places her bag in the desk tracing a finger over the wooden surface.

“You left early, this morning.” She accuses.

I did.

I had to personally pick up some shipments from the marina.

And there was diamonds worth of a million dollars missing.

“And you’ve been here ever since.” She adds keeping her tone same as before.

Docile yet accusatory.

Soft yet angry. Blaming me.

“What do you mean?” I ask rounding the table, taking a seat on my chair, pouring Dalmore from a decanter to my glass.

“Why have you been here, Angelo?” She asks her face rose up so her eyes met mine.

Anger, fury, pain swirling in her baby brown orbs.

“I am here for the same reason I am here everyday.” I reply as a matter of fact. “Business.”

“Don’t twist your words.” She warns.

Genuinely sometimes, I do not understand this woman.

She never used to be this way. This much doubtful.

This much insecure

This much scared.

The Ariel I knew didn’t give two fucks about what anybody did till she had her fix and her life was in order.

The Ariel I knew was confident, the Ariel that danced her way sensually in to my life was a fire, refusing to be extinguished.

She was crazy, she was fiery.

She was fire. She burned everything in her awake.

Anybody who had a taste of her couldn’t help but come back for more.

She demanded what she wanted.

She took what she needed.

She never used to be this- like this.

Jealous, petty, insecure. Scared. Sad.

“I am telling you how it is.” I say sipping my drink. “I’ve been here, working in shipments and orders to Africa and Russia all day.”

“You’ve been here with Anne.” She whispers.

“Your acquisition is false.” I say anger slowly making it’s way up to my head.

Anne and Roman and I had a meeting. Sure. It was barely two to three hours of work.

But I wasn’t with Anne all day like she puts it to be.

God knows she is driving me insane.

A second earlier, downstairs, I didn’t want anything more then to bend my woman over the desk and fuck her wearing that dress, she fails a goddess in.

Right now, I feel like walking here with her company was an act I should’ve avoided.

Ariel turns toward the coffee table and grabs some thing from the glass surface, and puts it on the desk.

A tube of lipstick, a packet of a cigarette that belongs to Anne.

Jesus.

“You don’t smoke Virginia slims.” She says. “That lipstick surely isn’t yours, Angelo.”

“Then you have the wrong idea.” I say.

I thought we solved this last night?

“Right.” She says taking her ruby painted lip between her teeth.

“Of course I have the wrong idea, why would Ariel have the right idea? Ariel is just stupid. Ariel isn’t supposed to question no matter how much it hurts her!” Her voice raises up with each word she utters.

“Ariel is supposed to look pretty and keep Capo Bestone happy!”

“Ariel.” I warn, taking out an opened pack of treasurer and lightning the butt.

“What?” She snaps. “Am I wrong?”

“Yes.” I answer. “Do not accuse me out of assumptions you’ve built in your head, tadpole. Ever.”

“Right.” She snaps. “It’s all in my head, isn’t it? It’s all inside my fucking head, the baby, us, now Anne and you acting like an insensitive bastard- it’s all in my head!” She yelled, eyes bubbling with unshed tears. “All in my head.”

“You’re overreacting.” I state.

“Over- overreacting?” She asks. “Do you have any idea how much pain I am in?”

I look at her beautiful face, crystal tears lingering on her full cheeks, lips trembling debating whether to deliver her next sentence or not.

What does she want?

What does this woman really want?

If she could tell me!

If she could just fucking tell me what hurts her and what doesn’t!

What the fuck does she want so I can give it to her and she stops thinking like this.

What does she need to give me my Ariel, the Ariel that had me intrigued since the first night I saw her, back?

What can I do, to bring her back to me?

“I’ve spent three weeks, crying myself to sleep, Angelo.” She whimpers. “I’ve tried, God knows I did, I try so much- and yet you! You fuck everything up!”

“I fuck everything up?” I roar.

“You’ve been fucking everything up since the night you walked into my fucking life!” She yells.

“You fuck everything up!” She cries. “You fucked us up, you ruined us!”

“I ruined us?” I ask.

Does she even hear herself?

What is wrong with her

“You ruined us.” She repeats watching me walk toward her. “You ruined us that night, Angelo.”

“What is wrong with you, baby?” I ask grabbing her shoulder and jerking her petite frame close to me.

“What happened?” I add, concerned about the way she was acting.

“Everything, happened, Angelo!” She blames. “Everything.”

I cup her cheeks placing a soft kiss on her ruby lips.

“I haven’t been fucking Anne.” I say, giving her the reassurance she needs.

“There is nobody but you, baby.”  I say truthfully.

She looks at me. Lost.

“What can I do?” I ask, wiping away her tears from her lovely cheeks. “Tell me what to do.”

“Fix us.” She whispers. “Fix us. Fix me, Angelo.”

“Fix me!” She yells pushing against my chest a fresh trail of tears trailing down her cheeks. “Fix me! Fix this between us, Angelo!”

I feel her strength draining as she goes slightly limp against my hold.

“Does it hurt you at all?” She asks looking up to see my eyes, hers blurred with tears, mine dry, desperately trying to understand what she needs.

Or wants.

And what can I give her.

Ariel takes one of my hand, her palms warm against my skin as she places my palm flat over her plane stomach.

“Do you feel anything?” She asks. “Do you feel anything at all? For me? For him? For us, Angelo? Do you?”

“Baby-” I try to quieten her from her breakdown all of a sudden.

“Do you?” She asks again.

I stay silent wondering what answer of mine would salvage her from this pain.

“You don’t.” She cries. “You don’t, Angelo. You don’t!”

“Ariel.” I say as she struggles against me again, pushing against my chest, fighting me, sobs breaking out of her chest, pouring every ounce of heartbreak into the hits she delivers at my chest.

“You aren’t okay.” I state grabbing her shoulders jerking her to stand erect instead of the hitting me.

“You’re not okay, you need help.” I add.

“I am not.” She agrees. “I’m not okay, Angelo. I haven’t been okay since I lost my baby.”

“I haven’t been okay since I lost the baby, Angelo.” She cries. “Our baby.”

“Sometimes it hurts so much. So much, that-” she jabs a finger on her chest. “It feels like something is clawing my heart out and feasting on it.”

Cupping her tear stained cheeks I kiss her cherry lips, tasting the salt from her tears and the lipstick flavour on her mouth.

She melts against me.

“It hurts.” She mumbles, her knees buckling as I hold her up, using one hand against her back. “It hurts me the way you act.”

Jesus.

“I never wanted anything of you  and yet you hurt me like I snatched you life away and clawed your soul.” She whimpers.

“But you did that to me, even though I did nothing but-”

But?

“But?” I asked.

Go on, baby. I think. Finish it for me.

Say it.

But- what, Ariel?

She sobs. “You hurt me! You always hurt me, Angelo! You always hurt me.”

“Sush.” I coo, trying to get her stop crying and yelling. “Sush, baby.”

“I hate you.” She mumbles. “I fucking hate you, Angelo.”

I take her verbal blows in because I cannot but.

I don’t know what I’d do without her in this life. Or the next.

I cannot hurt her based on what she says one moment and forgets the next.

I’d never hurt her.

“Angelo.” Ariel whimpers against me.

“Sí, baby?” I ask her wrists still in my grip. “What do you need?”

“I need you.” She mumbles eyes boring into mine. A kind of plea shining in them, begging for me to take her.

Not now-

And we’ll be back at point one.

All we do is circle around everything and come back to the centre all over again.

“Fuck me, Angelo.” She whimpers rubbing the front of her body against my crotch.

“Ariel.” I warn, feeling myself harden from the slightest touch of her body.

“Don’t I look good?” She asks, eyes swirling with need and want and something else.

Something that says, ‘take it away, Angel’

“Don’t I look good?” She asked again, wiggling her hand out of my hold, and placing her palm on my chest, dragging it up and down sensually.

“Don’t you want me?”

“Ariel, please.” I warn.

“Please, Angelo.” She whimpers.

“Please. I need you inside, I feels so empty, please.”

I kiss her mouth, wanting her to close her lips.

Ariel moans grabbing the colar of my silk shirt latching in to my lips like I was her air.

Good.

I wanted to be her air.

I wanted her to start and end with me.

I wanted to be her everything.

Pushing her petite body, feet clad in stiletto, I walk her back by walking forward, our mouth still savouring each other as I press her against the wall.

Ariel breaks away, desperate for some air, my head drops on the crook of her neck, one hand braced against the wall the other pulling her dress down freeing her breasts.

Ariel moaned when my mouth trailed down wet little kisses against her skin, tongue tracing her hardened nipple, lips closing around the protruding flesh.

“Oh Angelo.” She moans pushing her body up, her shaped nails digging on my neck, her body responding in the most needy way possible.

“Please.” She begs pressing her covered core against my erection. “Fuck me, already.”

Pulling away from her nipple I pay attention to the other tugging it with my teeth making her squeal and writhe before I kiss her again, my hand pull up her dress, bunching the elastic like material around her hips.

She was wearing a thong, barely covering her assets.

Impatient, I ripped the thin stitch holding the string together and unzipped my fly, slamming inside her,

Her nails dig on my shoulder, mouth open in a silent cry.

I looked at her face, tear stained cheeks, cherry red lips, nose flushed from crying and yelling eyes closed. Body trembling.

“Is this what you want?” I whisper my eyes focused on her face.

“Yes.” She whimpers.

“I want you to fuck the pain out of me, Angelo.” She adds.

And so, I do.

Pounding inside her warm, soft and soaked cunt, I fuck the pain out of her, pushing her small frame away from me and pulling her close at the same time.

“Fuck, Angelo.” She moans as my mouth works around her nipples, licking the nub, teasing,  taunting pulling the flesh between my teeth and realising it, as my cock nestled inside her gushing cunt, pushing in and out.

Hard and fast, slamming inside her,  hitting her sweet sweet spot as she cries out my name over and over again, till her orgasm rips through her body, muscles clenching my dick, making my dick pulse as she rides out another climax milking me inside her.

“Ariel.” I sigh dropping my face on the crook of her neck, feeling her knees buckle under her.

“Angelo.” She mirrors my tone, her eyes tired and swirling with a new batch of tears.

I realise, I should have given her more time since my return from Greece.

Since- the incident, Ariel wants more reassurance then ever.

I don’t know if it’s natural.

I suppose it must be.

She constantly craves closeness while pushing me away at the same time.

Over and over again.

It results nothing and makes nothing out of our relationship.

We argue, she yells, she cries, we fight, we fuck and repeat, standing at point one, all over again.

I pull my face away from her sweet skin and look into her eyes.

“Would you stay home tomorrow?” She whispers tentatively.

“Baby.” I cup her cheeks, pushing my lips against her.

“Yes, yes. I will.” I whisper against her mouth

She gives me a barely there smile before connecting our lips.

I take my time kissing her, tongue caressing that lush  bottom lip begging her to open her mouth.

Giving me entrance she sighs as my tongue caress hers, in a slow soft dance.

I want to fucking give her all the reassurance she wants.

All of it.

Whatever she craves. Closeness, sex- whatever reassures her.

And if me staying home makes her feel alright, then I’d move the earth and moon to make it.

When we pull away for breath, Ariel wobbles on her feet, making me skirt an arm around her waist keeping her upright as she pulls her dress down and neckline up to cover herself.

“Fine.” She holds up her hand, as I hold her other hand steadying her. “Fine, just wobbly.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, concerned.

“Sí.” She nods. “Bathroom.”

I let Ariel walk toward the bathroom as tuck myself in, straighten my short and call cleaning crew before dimming my suit for the meeting with Mikhail Ivanov for our missing diamonds.

I sit on my desk hearing the tap in the wash sink turn on as I light up a cigarette trying to calm myself.

Roman barges in, an angry Blaire right behind him, dressed in Ariel’s top and a layered skirt.

The cleaning crew walking behind them, gets into work of moping the floor, spraying citrus freshener, to mask away the scent of our activities.

“Where’s is my Bubbles?” Blaire points an accused finger at me.

“Bathroom.” I reply impassively.

Blaire is still glaring me while Roman settles himself on the couch pouting himself whisky from a decanter.

“I hate you.” She states out of the blue. “And if you dare to-”

A sudden thud snaps my attention toward the nearly closed bathroom door.

Swift to my feet, I rush toward the bathroom pushing the door open, Roman behind me.

“Jesus.” Roman mutters while I walk into the bathroom, kneeling beside Ariel’s unconscious form.

“What happened?” Roman asks stepping in, turning off the faucet of the wash sink.

“Well, she collapsed, what else, Roman?” Blaire snaps rushing toward her friend.

“Stupid.” I hear the woman mutter as she kneels beside Ariel.

“Bubbles?” She calls patting her cheeks lightly. “Bubbles, wake up, boo.”

Ignoring Blaire’s panicked reaction, I soar to my height carrying Ariel, one arm under her legs the other supporting her back.

“Why did she faint?” Blaire asks.

Roman punches a code to an adjacent door that leads to a bedroom, dominated in white, a king sized bed pushed against the back wall, bay windows looking out at the sea port.

Blaire makes herself useful by opening the windows letting the air in while I lay her down on the bed, proceeding to undo her heels.

Blaire quickly walks toward the other end of the bed and scrambles close to Ariel’s insentient body, grabbing her hand she rubs the palms trying to generate some warmth in her.

“This has happened before.” Blaire says. “She’s fainted before but she was stressed then-”

“I’ve called a nurse.” Roman intervenes to Blaire’s rant. “She will be here in a second.”

I nod.

Blaire grabs the other palm, frantically rubbing, trying to do something, anything that would wake her friend.

“She’s been so sad.” Blaire whispers ad if blaming herself. “So sad.”

A nurse walks in two minutes later, checking Ariel’s pulse and any other sign of injury.

“She will be fine.” The nurse declares packing her satchel. “I pushed some morphine into her system, she’ll wake up in ten or fifteen minutes but she might be high.”

I nod and Roman sees the doctor out of the room.

“You hurt her, Angelo.” Blaire says. “She hides so much pain under those eyes, and that smile-”

I don’t answer to her words, because simply I don’t want to.

Instead, I work on undoing the zipper at the aide of Ariel’s bodycon, hoping that having her to breathe will help her.

Blaire doesn’t say anything further but stays beside her friend till Roman calls her and declares it’s time to leave.

Reluctant and almost on the verge of throwing a fit, the nutcase leaves, her heels thumping loudly against the floor.

I shut the door behind them and sigh, loosing my suit jacket.

Roman and I have some spare cloths here, given that the club is open all night, every night and spending night here, working till late was almost like a ritual before I was tied to the other club.

In the bathroom, I showered, dressed myself in a pair of black silk pajama bottom and carried my dress robe over the arm to the bedroom after locking the office door.

It was almost twenty minutes since Ariel was administered the drug, she was yet to open her eyes.

I call Alberto to let him know that Ariel would be with me for the night and order for the security around the penthouse to be rotated.

I was on the the final call with the security of the club saying that I was occupying it tonight when I heard my name being called.

It was faint. And soft.

“Yes baby?” I asked moving the strands of pink hair from my face.

“Where’s plushie?” She asked hands reaching out for something that wasn’t there.

“What?” I ask again not understanding. “What do you want, baby?”

“Bird.” She says in a daze. “Where’s my bird? Cuddle. Bird. Yellow.”

What?

“Are you asking for your toy?” I ask because that’s the only fit description her one worded sentence gave me

“The bird toy?”

She nods. “Plushie.”

“We left that at home.” I say.

“Where are we then?” Sh mumbles reaching for the coverlet to place over her naked body.

“At the club.”

“Coco?” She asks.

“With Alberto.” I reply.

She nods closing her eyes. “Sleep.”

“Yeah, baby.” I say placing a kiss between her eyebrows. “Go to sleep, you’ll be better.”

“Sí.” She nods. “I fell.”

“Sí.”

“In the bathroom.” She says with her eyes closed.

“Sí.”

Ariel falls asleep within minutes of mumbling scrambled words that made no connection or sense.

There were samples of cannabis on the desk drawers coming from Greece and Mexico.

Fishing out a joint paper, I filled the it generously and rolled myself a joint before lighting it and walking back to the bedroom.

Ariel was still on the same position, out like a bulb as I left her, five minutes ago.

Standing before the window I blew out a ribbon of burnt marijuana smoke, thinking.

Thinking about Ariel. Me. Me and Ariel. Us.

Was there any point two to our arrangement or are we always supposed to fuck back to point one?

I fished out my vibrating phone from my pocket.

“Mama.” I answered.

“Angelo” She addressed. “How are you, love?”

“Fine.” I said taking another drag of my joint. “How are you?”

“Fine.” She sounds nervous. “And- Ariel? How’s she?”

Drugged, high. “Fine.” I reply. “You called.”

“Sí.” She replied, slightly nervous. “I wanted to ask, if you and Ariel would like to join me and Lorenzo for dinner tomorrow night?” She tentatively said.

“Of course.” I replied. “Ariel- Ariel is asleep, at this moment. I’ll let her know in the morning-”

“That would be lovely.” She said. “And- um- if possible do come over a tad bit early? Lorenzo and I would like to talk to you-”

“Sure, ma.” I say.

“Alright, baby.” She sighs. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Sí.” I replied.

---

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Now, I’ve wrote this chapter three times and deleted it and wrote it again. Idk. Lol.

I don’t feel too great about this but I don’t feel too bad either. Which I think is better then feeling like shit about this chapter.

So yeah-

Enjoy I suppose cause at this point I have Z.E.R.O. expectations of this book. Smh. Zero.

18

I laid on the bathtub, arms folded over the edge head resting on my folded arms as the warm water soothed my tired skin.

I felt like moving a muscle would burn four thousand calories.

Angelo has drained the cold water twice and filled the tub with more hot water as I kept laying inside.

Motionless, not moving a muscle.

Because I can’t.

And I do not want to.

I feel as if a train went over my body and left me in the rails to feel all the pain, physically.

“Tadpole?” I heard his voice but didn’t have the energy to look up and watch as he sat on the corner edge, splashing water over my exposed shoulder.

His hand resting the place he just poured water on. Silent.

“Baby?” He asked pushing the hair out of my face.

“It’s been hours, come on.” He urged gently.

His voice soothed my insides but I didn’t want to leave this.

I felt comfortable.

I even forgot the hunger bubbling inside me from skipping dinner.

If was five nights at a stretch I skipped dinner.

“Can you drain it again?” I asked without assessing his request of getting out.

Angelo pulled the plug, I felt the water, not cool yet but somewhat, leave my body covering me with chills.

It lasted for about two minutes before perfectly warm water engulfed my body once over again.

Angelo uses a small pitcher to pour water over my shoulders, the only exposed part of my body apart from my head.

Minutes after a knock on the door made him get up and leave only to come back a second or ten later with a plate.

The warm smell of chicken soup tickled my nose making stomach growl in anticipation of the long needed food.

Angelo reclaims his seat before massaging my head, gently and voicelessly urging me to look up at him.

“Let me feed you, baby.” He said, the plate in his hand as he stirred the steaming soup.

Soundlessly, I sat up pressing my back against the bathtub, the water splashing about my body making the only sound around us.

Angelo fed me the soup with bread rolls.

There was some sweet sandwich with jam and butter with sugar sprinkles that he handed me placing a kiss on my head and leaving to put away the plate.

I nibbled on the sandwich, thinking back to last night.

What happened?

I went in to the bathroom to freshen up.

I peed and washed myself with the shower head and walked to the wash sink turning on the tap.

I felt tired.

Wobbly from Angelo’s ministrations.

My body felt light from all the yelling I did but-

But-

I am pretty sure that wasn’t the reason I fainted.

There was some pungent smell all over the room. I think back.

It was sweet.

Too sweet. I think.

It tickled my nose as soon as I started the tap and I felt a bit dizzy.

As if the smell was closing the active part of my brain.

Angelo returns, his body clad in a black silk dress robe, front open paired with the matching set pajama bottoms.

“Angelo?” I whispered getting his attention.

He walked toward me and reclaimed his seat once again, hand brushing my unruly hair back behind my ear. “Sí, tadpole?”

“Last night.” I say frowning, thinking and rethinking it all over again.

Am I mistaking something?

I am surely not mistaking the smell.

It was a smell that belonged in laboratories and hospital not in the club.

It wasn’t a cologne, not a perfume-

Or a narcotic.

“Last night?” He asks, still caressing my hair, my sandwich half eaten and forgotten in my right hand.

“Last night, in the bathroom-” I say looking up at him, for the first time this morning.

Really book at him.

He looks exceptionally handsome, with his longer then usual hair s mess, jaw and chin covered with stubble.

Eyes tired yet holding strength and power in them.

He pushes his hair back with one hand, making it fall on either side of his head in the same way it rested before.

Why can’t I look away?

“What?” He asks.

“Hmm?” I ask.

“Why are looking at me like that?” He asks finishing with a chuckle.

Like a psychopath ?

“You look good.” I say honestly.

“Oh?” Angelo raises an eyebrow almost teasing me. “I look good do, I?”

I nod. “ Really good.“

He chuckles his hand that was busy caressing my hair cups my cheeks and he bends placing a kiss on my lips.

I let him.

Sometimes his kisses make me feel good.

Alive . On the inside.

As if there was still a tiny little bit of a ray of hope.

But that’s what scary isn’t it?

That tiny itty bitty ray of hope.

It is ready to fuck everything I gain.

Standby like a machine gun.

“What about last night, tadpole?” He asks. “Do you feel sick?”

I shake my head. “I don’t think I collapsed because I was sick.”

“No?” He asks.

I shake my head.

“There was this sweet smell, in the bathroom last night, Angelo.” I say.

“Almost chemical like but really sweet.” I add. “Like a perfume but not really. Chemical.” I add.

His eyebrows pull together.

“It came as soon as I turned on the tap.” I say recalling. “And I felt light in the head-”

“You’re trying to say that it was some sort of chemical or- drug?” He asks.

“I suppose.” I say sitting straight. “I don’t know- but I didn’t feel sick to faint, Angelo.”

He nods, his palm still cupping my cheek.

I can see in his eyes the knobs and bolts of his head turning.

Retrieving his palm from my cheek, he fishes out his phone dialing a number.

“I want the tank reservoir of the club checked, the ones connected to the suite and send an investigation squad. ASAP.” He snaps before ending the call.

“How much do you recall?” He asks.

I shrug. “Only that much, I turned on the tap, I washed hands and I was about to reapply my lipstick but remembered I left by bag by your table so I was almost on my way out-”

“Did you see anyone?” He asks. “Or- felt- something?”

I shake my head. “No. There was nobody. The window-” I point at the bay window like window but small in size, covered with with curtains.

Angelo gets up, striding toward the window, ripping off the curtains to  a side.

It was open.

Jesus.

I get up from the water, grabbing a towel from the basket beside the tub, wrapping it around my upper body, under my arms, as I get out from the warmth enveloping me.

A shivering sensation running over my skin as I pad toward Angelo.

A burly man invades our privacy, pulling attention toward himself addressing Angelo by his tittle.

“Ricardo.” Angelo jerks his head towards the glass enclosed double shower.

“I need the bathroom searched. Any trace, anything and the window examined, the sink. Look for any type of anesthetic or  narcotics that shouldn’t be here.”

“Boss.” The man nods as a number of men, dressed in black enters the room, boxes of equipment in their hand.

“Come on.” Angelo places a hand on the small of my back, my hand clutching where the ends of my towel meet as he leads me away from the preying eyes of the men.

Inside the bedroom, Angelo hands me his robe.

The same one he was wearing.

It smells of him and marijuana .

I shrug the silk on my body.

It falls at my ankles and trails some more behind me, as I take a seat on the edge of the bed.

“Do you think we have an invader?” I ask tentatively watching Angelo pull out his phone and dialing yet another number.

“Precisely, tadpole.” He says. “I fail to find a reasonable explanation of you fainting all of a sudden, if you refuse to feel sick or unwell.”

I left my sandwich at the bathtub. I think all of a sudden.

Disturbing.

I crinkle up my nose as I think back to it.

Ew.

“Roman.” Angelo answers in a calculated tone and explains it to the Don, what I said.

Word to word.

They take almost five minute over the phone before Angelo ends the call and pockets his cell.

Sighing Angelo walks toward the large window, curtains pushed to the aides and one of the panels of the window open, letting in fresh morning air.

It was almost ten am, I was up before nine and had been soaking in the bathtub since, trying to rub away the shivers breaking out like crazy all over my body.

And plus washing away the tiredness.

I flop myself down on the bed, occupying the same side I did last night as I watch Angelo’s naked back, his pajama hanging low from his hips as he leaves a ribbon of smoke out in the fresh air.

Pulling the covers to my chest, I try to block away the coldness radiating from inside.

Weird.

It’s not even cold season yet and I’m already shivery.

It might be the morphine they pushed into me. I think.

Maybe the nurse pushed a bit too much.

“What are you thinking?” I can not help but mouth my words watching the man smoke away.

“Nothing, in particular.” He voices his thoughts.

“Tell me.” I say.

Angelo chuckles.

“You wouldn’t be fascinated.”

“Try me, Capo Bestone .” I sigh, ribbing my arm. “Are you cold?”

Angelo turns to face me, the matte black roll of tobacco burning away from his grip.

“No.” He answers in negative, eyes concerned “Why?”

“It’s the morphine.” I say waving it way. “Probably a side effect.”

Angelo finishes the rest of the cigarette in one long drag  walking over to the bed and squishes the rest of it in an ashtray resting on the bedside table, taking a seat beside my sprawled body.

“You smoke too much.” I say eyeing the crystal ashtray.

It was half way full.

I suppose Capo Bestone smoked enough joint to fill up the thingy.

“You worried about me, baby?” He asks inching closer and pecking my lips, tasting bitter of the tobacco.

“About your lungs, Angelo.” I mumbles against his plump, moist lips. “About your lungs.”

“I’d die young.” He says, as if it was like ’ I’m having dinner ’ or ’ it’s just toast ’

I feel a tug inside my chest, a tiny pang of pain and panic, at my heart, radiating as a result of his sentence.

I momentarily go back to the time when I was paranoid, all sorts of contact between us blocked, nothing on him came as an update.

Spending night awake, my tears, my only company as I kept imagining all the worst case scenario in my head.

It was not so long ago, when I silenced my sobs with the pillows, when I tried anything and everything to block away the pain resulting form the emptiness.

“Don’t say that.” I whisper.

Angelo graces me with a tiny smirk at the corner of his lip as caresses my cheek with his knuckles.

“Does it scare you?” He whispers.

“What?” I ask knowing completely what he’s referring to.

It does, Angel. I think mentally.

It scares me more then anything.

“Me dying on you?”

“No.” I reply, my voice firm.

“I’ll kill you, if you die on me, Giovanni.”

He smiles grabbing my hips, pulling me on top of him as he lays back down on the bed.

I place my palms on his bare chest, the front of my robe open, so my core rests on his hard stomach as his palms dig into my shaped hips.

“You want to kill me, baby?” He asks. “Yeah?”

“I’ll kill you, if you dare die on me.” I say. “Period.”

He smirks adjusting his head on the pillow.

I trail my palms up his chest  feeling the carved muscles underneath my cold skin, eyes roaming over his body as I take my time fondling him.

His eyes engrossed in my actions, hands stationary on my hips as trail my cold palm up to his broad sculpted shoulders before bringing them down to his stomach before moving myself down on his body, his bulge pressed against my core.

My fingers trace the V line of his hip bone disappearing under that silky material of pajama as I play with the knot that keeps hidden  what’s underneath.

I haven’t been in this position, for a while. I think to myself.

Angelo was not often fond of letting me top him, however when he did, I made sure that I took as much as I could get from my man.

His cologne, mixed with the smell of nicotine makes my head light slightly.

Pressing my core slightly harder against his stiff girth, I rock myself back and forth slowly, feeling him grow more breath me.

“You’re playful.” He retorts making me bite my bottom lip, giving him a tiny smile as I lean forward, my hands on the pillow so his head caged between my hands, my breasts almost touching his chest.

“I like to play.” I peck his lips, hand withdrawing from the pillow trailing down his biceps, forearm, fingers intertwining as I bring his hands up and place them on either side of his head.

“Sometimes.” I add.

“Are you still drugged?” He asks almost stifling a laugh.

I shake my head, eyes boring into his dark orbs.

It has been so long since I’ve been this way toward him- I think.

This playful, tension free, calm but needy.

Not wanting to make me forget but remind me, of everything that makes me Ariel.

I wonder if he remembers that part of me.

The carefree, the dancing part of me?

All I’ve been toward this man is cold and distant and stiff and expected him to comfort me with warm arms while blaming him for everything that went downhill.

He has his fault yes.

His actions resulted in tremendous heartache and mental pain for me, yes.

But-

But-

He never talks either.

He might be hurting but not yet realising?

He might recognize everything in his head but not really, refusing every action on his part.

Not every people grieves the same.

Does he grieve? I wonder.

Does he even realise what happened between us?

What we lost?

Does he even care? I think.

Does he care for me? At all?

A little bit about me? About us?

My face instantly clouds with the melancholic expression but we’re saved by the knock on the door.

“Capo Bestone?” The voice speaks urgently from the other side if the room.

I get down from Angelo’s body, closing the front of my robe using the tie around the loops at my waist while Angelo gets the door open and closes it behind him after he steps out of the room.

I cover myself using the coverlets pulled up to my chin once again  and try to gauge the direction the situation might go in.

At first the ambush at the DeMarco estate. Then the attack on Angelo. Now this. Invasion.

I don’t understand.

Who is messing with us?

Or did we mess with someone else now they’re taking the payback?

But it’s not coherent.

Why the club?

And why the bathroom?

This makes no sense. I sigh.

Angelo returns almost fifteen minutes later when I am in the verge of dosing off by watching the ceiling.

I sit up watching him enter through the door, a stack of paper in his hand as he places them abruptly in the bedside table.

“What happened?” I ask frowning at the man that came in and much his demeanour changed.

He lights another cigarette dropping the black and gold pack of treasurer on the bed.

I am going to hide this. I think to myself.

“Are you sure you saw nothing in the bathroom?” He asks out of the blue taking a seat at the foot of the bed, slightly facing me.

“Positive.” I reply with a nod.

Because I really didn’t.

“They found shoe prints.” Angelo says frowning. “Heels, size 39.”

I’m a size 37. I think to myself.

“I’m a 37.” I say.

“It was chloroform.” He states. “I suppose whoever was inside, hiding or initiating some plan, sprayed the gas.”

I nod. “I suppose.”

He takes a drag out of his cigarette and gets up grabbing the stack of papers from the desk.

“Do you have my phone?” I ask when I see the man on his way to exit.

I need go call Blaire.

I’ve been so selfish bringing her here and leaving her alone and then passing out like a stupid person.

“I want to call, Blaire.” I add my necessity.

He hands me his cell after using a finger scan to open the device.

I hit Roman in face time cause kill me he won’t allow my babe a phone.

Asshat. I think mentally.

Blaire’s face flashes across the skin, she has a pink glittery face mask on.

“Hey, girlie.” She drawls out. “How ya feeling?”

“I feel fine.” I reply. “You look cute.”

She shakes her head. “Blaire feels like taking care of herself.”

“You should.” I say. “Period. Take care of your face. It’s pretty, it deserves love.”

“Yes.” She squeals. “You hear that?” She yells for someone.

“Buy me those eye mask too next time. Those gold ones. I wanna feel expensive.”

I don’t hear a response from the man.

I doubt he leaves a response.

I shake my head at her and Roman’s interaction.

I am honestly glad that the man is letting his guard down, even though slowly but he’s letting her in.

And I am glad for that.

“Tell me ’bout you.” She says. “How’s everything with Devil-o ?”

“Okay.” I nod.

“Do you want me to hit him across the face?” She asks almost excited. “God knows, I’ve been missing something since morning.”

“No.” I shake my head at her suggestion. “We’re okay.”

“Yeah?” She asks.

“You wanna hear about me?” She adds excitedly.

“Yeah!” I say excitedly making myself comfortable against the pillow.

“So hear this, when we got to the inn last night.” She whispers.

“And we did the hanky panky cause I was mad and Roman was mad back at me for pulling a show, whatever that means-” She continues.

I nod, enthusiastically. “In the butt?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “Not in the butt.”

“Okay.” I say.

“And In the morning I made Roman breakfast.” She says hushed.  “I mean I’ve made him toast before and all that?”

“You made him toast?”

Blaire nods. “And eggs too and beans. But today I made an effort and made him nice Italian breakfast and coffee and he said they were good.”

I nod.

She’s so excited she cooked!

Hell, I am excited she cooked!

“He liked them?” I ask.

She nods. “He said they were delicious and all.”

“That’s so sweet, babe.” I say.

“I suppose.” She grins. “I’ve never made real food nobody.”

I grin.

“We also talk a lot.” She adds.

“Sometimes he let’s me know work stuff and all and the gets frustrated saying I intervene too much-”

“You don’t.” I say. “You’re perfect.”

“I know right.” She huffs. “And so I said let’s watch a movie and I wanted a cute face mask so he had someone got me this.” She points at her face.

“It’s cute!” I argue.

“I wanted the galaxy one.” She says. “Hearts and stars glitter ain’t cute.”

I shake my head.

“We need a spa day.” I declare.

“Yep.” She nods. “Let’s go, do spa day. I want to feel luxurious.”

“Yes.” I agree.

Blaire and I talk some more about mundane stuff before goodbyes when she tells me to wait.

“Do you really feel okay?” She asked frowning. “You looked pretty sick last night. I was so sure you needed a doctor-”

“Somebody broke into the club last night.” I say, as a mater of fact. “It was chloroform which she sprayed.”

“She?” Blaire frowns.

I nod. “With a 39 shoe size apparently-”

“I’m a 39 size.” Blaire pipes up, suddenly. “And I’m 5’2 maybe three-”

“What do you mean?” I frown.

“Anne is almost my height-” She says thinking deep.

“You think it was Anne?”

“They had a meeting, right?” Blaire asks. “And I saw a lipstick on Angelo’s desk. That wasn’t yours, it was French brand and- and-”

I shake my head.

Anne would need some purpose.

She’s working with the family, not against us.

Or is she?

“I’ll call you later, Bubbles.” Blaire  says. “Around after lunch yeah?”

“Okay.” I smile. “Spa day tomorrow, you better remember!”

“Yes.” She says. “Yes, woman, I will.”

I didn’t see Angelo till lunch but I had his phone, which meant he was probably in the office out of the bedroom or somewhere in the club.

But Blaire’s doubt made me doubtful as well.

I wasn’t sure if Anne wore 39 shoes.

And I wasn’t sure how she got up wearing shoes or got down anyway.

This is too messy.

I glanced at the still lit screen of the phone, my finger hovered over the message icon.

Ignorant, I opened the app.

Service provider. Roman. Security. Alberto.

More service provider. Auto generated internet offers. Bills. More bills. Account transaction. Leonidas. More account transaction. Some more money withdrawal.

Such a hypocrite. My mind sneered at me as I scrolled to the last three days before closing the app.

Shouldn’t be doing this. I think to myself.

No.

He’s said over and over he wasn’t doing anything with anyone.

But I still scroll down through the call log.

Roman. Security. Ricardo. More security-

Only one call to Anne, that too two hours prior of mine and Blaire’s arrival.

Security, bank, Alberto, more security-

The door opened abruptly revealing Angelo who frowned at me as I had his phone clutched in my hand.

“I checked your call and texts.” I said truthfully trying to submerge the voice of my brain calling me a hypocrite.

It made him frown deeper.

“Okay.” He said like it was no big deal.

I frowned at his answer handing him the phone which he pocketed.

“Aren’t you- mad?” I asked.

“Why would I be mad?” He asks like I had my marbles loose.

“What did you find?” He adds.

“Service providers.” I say.

He laughs, placing one knee on the bed and grabbing my neck pulling my face closer to his.

“You wanted to find something more, baby?”

I shake my head pecking his lips.

“Maybe a secret number with a fake name?” He jokes. “Telling that I’ll be home for dinner or something like that.”

I shake my head.

“Or maybe how I’ll fuck her to sleep ?” He smirks.

I shake my head, feeling more guilty that I checked his phone.

I peck his lips again. “Sorry.”

“My mother wants us for dinner tonight.” He states. “A little before dinner actually, sounds fine?”

“Sounds fine .” I reply.

---

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

This chapter feels a bit in the cute side, urgh.

See, I was ⅛ impressed with myself about how last chapter turned out but now idk. Now I am like ’ bitch stop writing, you’re embarks sing yourself’😒😒

But idk if we’ll have another cute chapter soon or at all or whatever cause so~ y’all enjoy or not.

Lemme know how much you hate this chapter😭

I didn’t even post a sneak peak on IG, I felt that much degraded with myself. Smh.

-November.

19

I wore a dust pink slip dress for the dinner with Alyssa.

Angelo assured me, Alberto had Coco for the night.

I feel as if the man set to be my security turned into my doggie sitter.

The car halted in front of a small villa, with a fountain as the center piece of the exterior.

The house had separate space for car parks on the right but they were closed, so Angelo killed the engine of the white Porsche on the driveway.

It had cherry leather interior and equally luxurious in feeling as it looked.

“Wait.” He ordered when my hand reached toward the door handle.

I looked at the man, sporting a steel grey three piece suit with a white shirt.

“You’re missing something.” He said as a mater or fact.

“What?” I asked with a frown forming between my eyebrows.

I knew I wasn’t carrying a purse because there was no point so I knew I wasn’t missing anything.

“I am not missing anything.” I said with a smile lingering on the corner of my lips.

“You are.” He said with a slight nod of his head hand palming the inside of his suit jacket pocket.

From inside he pulled out a string of stones and handed it to me.

Tiny pink in color diamonds sat side by side to make a string with a white gold base.

“I missed your birthday.” He stated. “I hope it makes up.”

I heard pink diamonds were rare and expensive.

“Angelo-” I say with a sigh.

He needn’t do this. I thought

“Let me put it on you.” He offered holding out his hand for the necklace.

I placed it on his palm and turned to give him access.

He put the hook fairly quick and the string of diamonds graced my neck like a choker.

“It’s beautiful.” I said running my finger tips around the diamond strip on my neck.

“I know.” He says placing a kiss on my temple before he exists the car and opens the door for me to get out, with his hand held put for me to take.

A maid awaits us dressed in a formal black dress and shows us in, where Alyssa was waiting by the sitting room of the nineteen century villa house, insides as rustic.

Newly refurbished but still holding that vibe.

“Angelo.” She hugged her son who hugged his mother back, before pulling away and cupping her cheeks and asking if she was okay.

Alyssa replied in affirmative as she moved toward me and gave me a hug as well.

“How are you, darling?” She asked.

“I am fine, Miss Giovanni.” I reply with a smile. “How’re you?”

“Just fine, lovely.” She said with a wave of her hand. “You look lovely, by the way.”

Awe. “Thank you, you look rather gorgeous yourself.”

She was wearing a knee length half sleeved lace blue dress with Sapphire earrings to match.

“Don’t make me feel good about my wrinkles.” She admonished examining me at arms length.

“Are you well? I hear you fell sick.” She added.

“I am fine, Miss Giovanni.” I replied reassuringly.

“Call me Alyssa.” She said, with a motherly glaze on her eyes.

I smiled at her.

“Right.” She exhaled. “I have to talk to you, in the parlour, shall we?”

“Ovviamente.” Angelo said, popping the button of his suit jacket open and walked behind his mother while leading me along with a his hand pressed against the small of my back.

(Of course)

Angelo took his seat on a single sofa whole I shared the couch with Alyssa facing the man in the room.

His hands resting on the armrest.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Angelo asked looking pensive yet rapt.

There was a moment of silence.

Almost two minutes of very pregnant silence in the room, the only sound from the grandfather clock’s pendulum moving.

“Okay.” Alyssa sighs.

“Okay.” Angelo replies, his right pointer finger pressed to his mouth.

“What is it, mama?” He urged.

“I’m getting married.” Alyssa blurts.

Angelo sits up straight, popping his suit button close. “What?”

“I am getting married.” She repeats in a smaller tone.

I automatically glance at her hands placed one on top of the other on her lap.

There was a rock on her ring finger.

You better be nice, Angelo. I think to myself as I watch the reaction of the women.

“I thought of letting Lorenzo officially declare it over dinner tonight, but I just wanted you to know first. In private.”

Angelo nods.

“So-” She presses, as if wanting some kind if reaction from Angelo.

Maybe a response.

A yell. Or throwing the vase.

Maybe a congratulations.

But the man stays silent.

It was maddening silence around the room.

Angelo looked at his mother intently while she found everything else to look at but him while I just sat there silent and watched the pair freak out on the inside.

“Show me your ring.” I said enthusiastically, unable to bare the uncomfortable silence, shuffling closer to the older women who looked happy till Angelo decided he’d act like an insolent asshole and not even give the women a positive reaction.

Alyssa smiled at me, even though still distraught and heavy on the heart, she showed me her hand.

The diamond was huge.

“It’s huge.” I said as I took her hand to examine the obviously expensive and rare ring.

“It’s so very gorgeous, Alyssa!” I exclaimed.

“Thank you, darling.” She said.

“Are you happy?” I asked. “Do you feel happy?”

“Yes. I do.” She nods. “I’ve been seeing Lorenzo for years now-”

“That’s so sweet.” I say giving her a side hug. “Were you together for long?”

“Ages.” She smiles. “Never thought of selling down, the either of us, really-”

Angelo was yet to utter a word when Donna Coralyn joined us with her husband who Angelo hugged and gave Coralyn the same cheek cupping treatment as he did to his mother.

And then another man joined us.

He was sporting a navy blue suit with a white shirt and looked nothing like Angelo, but they gave each other a firm handshake and the man hugged Don Marcus, like a brother and shared some inside talk, with smiles in their faces.

I was introduced to the man as Lorenzo.

“Ariel, Sir.” I smiled, shaking the older man’s hand.

“Sí.” The man nodded. “I’ve heard about you, how do you do, Ariel?”

“Fine, sir.” I said. “Thank you.”

We reseated on the parlour after the men excused themselves into Lorenzo’s office, as a maid served us aperitivo and some bite sized appetizers for while we talked.

(Idk, how to explain aperitivo in English, it’s basically a drink. A punch whatever with like snacks? Sorry.)

“Are we waiting for Roman?” Coralyn asked picking up her glass of pre dinner punch drink.

“Sí.” Alyssa replied.

“Did you talk to the brat ?” She whispered sipping her drink.

Alyssa nodded nervously while twirling her engagement ring around her finger.

“Sí, he didn’t utter a word.”

“He’s probably a little shocked.” Coralyn said. “Just a little. Give him time.”

I somewhat agreed with the former boss lady but also at the same time felt like Angelo should’ve at least cracked a smile for the sake of his nervous mother.

“I hope.” Alyssa says. “I thought- I mean, Lorenzo’s been there for him since he learned how to walk, Cora, I-”

Coralyn placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “He’ll come around biscuit.”

“Don’t worry.” I said taking her hand in mine. “He is probably still processing.”

Alyssa nods covering my hand with her free one.

I could tell that Angelo’s opinion and reaction mattered to the lady.

I find it quiet natural, because if I was in her place, it would matter to me too.

Excusing myself, I let myself out of the parlour and texted Angelo, to meet me in the garden, when two tick marks appear under my text, I walk out of the house into the front lawn by the fountain, where Angelo had parked the Porsche momentarily.

It wasn’t there anymore.

I suppose someone else has parked it somewhere else.

Nervously, fingering the ornament on my neck I sighed.

Maybe Angelo just needs a nudge to express himself to his mother. Positively.

The women looked happy yet torn somehow and that’s heart wrenching.

“Tadpole.” I heard.

Turning on my heels, I faced Angelo, his hands in his slacks pocket, hair long but yet somehow set in a way that made it tamed.

“Mind telling me why are you acting like an insolent asshole?” I asked, my voice barely decibels up from a whisper.

“An insolent asshole.” He tested the word on his lips.

I kept staring at him while he started back.

“What gave you the idea I was acting like an insolent asshole?” He asked taking measured steps closer to me.

“I don’t know.” I said, my voice getting slightly louder.

“Let’s start with how you’re acting toward your mama since she said she was getting married.”

He looks at me, his dark eyes telling me to step away from where it was his marked territory and not to push him farther.

“The woman is on the verge of an emotional breakdown.” I state.

“The least you could say is you’re happy or congratulations?” I asked. “It bothers her.”

“Don’t talk about things that don’t concern you, Ariel.” Angelo said in a composed tone, his posture the same, straight more dynamic.

Oozing power and screaming respect

Things that don’t concern me.

This was Capo Bestone Giovanni standing in front of me, not my Angelo.

Not the Angelo I’ve been with all day, lazing in bed, having slow sex, laughing, laying in bed, playing with our intertwined hands still we regained some more energy to go another round of our lustrous activities.

This is not the Angelo who just got me a gift, that gave me a tiny hope of progress between us.

There was no hope.

This was Capo

Bestone

Giovanni ready ruin every possible thing that stood between him and his goal.

This version of him scared me.

I looked down at my heels.

“As much as I love that you feel concerned about my mother and gauge her tension, I’d equally hate if you question me, Ariel.” He said.

“Never question me.” He said. “Or talk above me, Ariel.”

“Ever.” He emphasizes.

We stood there in silence.

Ten seconds.

Fifteen seconds.

Angelo turns and leaves, a lone tear trickles down my cheek.

Maybe it’s my fault after all. I think, wiping away the tear without creating an eyeliner smudge.

Maybe I was stepping out of line.

Inside the family, this is how it works.

No outsider is allowed to question the Don or the Capo Bestone or anybody.

And I was just that.

An outsider .

Somebody who was some sort of possession for the under boss.

Heavy lights blinded me momentarily before I saw the car.

Stepping out from it’s way, I waited on the front steps, a fake smile slapped on my face as I see Blaire step out of the car, elegant in a rose gold satin body con dress, falling under her knees, feet clad in nude stiletto.

Seeing me waiting on the steps, her face lights up as she almost bolts toward me.

“Hey!” I sigh as we do hug cuddle before pulling away. Blaire examines me at her arms length.

“You look well.” She said. “But not really, what did he do?”

I shake my head. “Nothing. Come on inside.”

“Are you going to tell me or be difficult?” She asks.

I shake my head as Roman approaches us.

“I’ll be at the office.” He declares before leaving us alone by the fountain and entering.

“Now spit.” Blaire orders. “Or I’ll kill Devil-o.”

I sigh. “Nothing, really.”

“Ariel.” She warned grabbing my hand.

“He did nothing.” I said with finality.

“I stepped out of the line and he put me back to my place, Blaire, that’s all.”

Blaire didn’t like the sound of that. Her expression said it all.

“What do you mean put you back to your place?” She asked tilting her head.

“It’s nothing, Blaire.” I say with a smile but she wasn’t content.

“I think everybody is waiting for us, inside.” I state, wanting for this discussion between her and me be over. “Come.”

Blaire reluctantly follows me inside as I lead her to the parlour were Coralyn and Alyssa was seated rather comfortably, their feet pulled up and tucked under while they chatted animatedly, a catalogue open on the space between them.

Blaire hugs and kisses both the women before settles herself in the floor so she has a clear view of the venue catalogue.

I follow her suite.

“This is lovely.” Coralyn points at a flower arrangement.

Minimalistic but rather gorgeous white and pink flower combination.

“It is.” Blaire pipes us. “How big wedding are we talking about?”

“Just the family.” Alyssa says. “In the chapel, a signed marriage. That’s all-”

“I call VETO!” Coralyn shrikes. “No way. Nope. Nope. Nope.”

“I’m old Cora.” Alyssa reasons.

“I don’t care.” She muses. “I’ll decorate the whole damn church with flowers! And you’ll wear white!”

Alyssa sighs. “Biscuit-”

“Nope!” The smaller women puts a pointer finger at her.

“It might be a small celebration, but it should be grand, biscuit. Grand!”

Blaire nodded. “I agree. Bring them alcohol down the fountain!”

“Whoa easy there, horse.” Coralyn pouted at her.

“We go cake testing, okay? We get big cake.” She adds. “Big.”

“I have no idea why I even refuse you sometime, biscuit.” Alyssa shakes her head leaning back against the couch.

“Big cake!” Coralyn yells laughing. “Big cake!”

“Hell yeah!” Blaire squeals. “Can we have different flavour, different layer?” She asks.

“Hell yes!” Coralyn nods vigorously.

“Chocolate, red velvet, caramel apple, orange, dark Forrest! We get all!”

“Right.” Alyssa scoffs shaking her head.

I sit behind and watch the three of them converse about everything and laughing about at Blaire’s bizarre ideas.

“Ariel?” Donna Coralyn asks, a concerned look on her face.

“Yes?” I asked pulling a smile across my face. “Sorry, did you say something?”

“Where were you, sweets?” Coralyn asks.

“Right here.” I said.

She still looks concerned.

Alyssa places a hand on my shoulder making me look up at her.

“What happened?” She asked gently.

“Nothing.” I shake my head. “I was just thinking about the flowers.”

She nods patting my shoulder.

Five minutes later, a maid comes in and tells us the men will be ready for dinner in a minute.

We walk to the long dining table set out for eight people as we sit keeping one gap for the men while the maids turn the plates for us and fills the water glass and places bottles of wine in an ice bucket on the table to keep them chilled.

Angelo occupies the seat beside me, his guard still up.

I don’t understand the reason of him acting so stiff and cold.

He’s not usually in this mode around the family, and I frankly fail to come at any logical conclusion about his behaviour and attitude.

We skip appetizer and move to the main course, when Lorenzo taps his wine glass with a fork making our attention turn at him.

Very cordially he declares his and Alyssa engagement and a wedding date set out two weeks from today.

We all toast to their happy life and say a prayer before going back to the food.

The dinner goes on fairly silent and just as the maids clear off out food plates to make space for dessert Angelo taps his form against his wine glass.

“I have some thing to say.” He clears his throat.

“To say when I arrived here, I did not expect the news of my mother’s engagement, it did however throw me off guard and I felt unprepared and for my behaviour, mama, Lorenzo, I apologize.”

Alyssa nods with a smile.

Lorenzo shakes his head.

“With that, I’d like to congratulate, mama and Lorenzo and hope all the very best for their future ahead.”

Alyssa was almost crying.

Under the table, I reached for his hand giving it a reassuring squeeze.

He pulled his hand away from mine ams intertwined our fingers as the desert plates with a thick slice of chocolate cake and ice cream arrived.

After the fairly normal desert and coffee and some friendly bickering later it was time to say goodbye to the family.

Angelo had a palm pressed on the small of my back as I hugged and air kissed Alyssa and Donna Coralyn saying goodnight.

Blaire hugged me and reminded that we had spa day tomorrow and Donna Coralyn said we were to go cake and wine testing the day after.

“If you forget, I’ll put you in a luggage and throw you away.” She promised pointing an admonishing finger at me while she repeated the time for me and Blaire. “To the ocean.”

“Okay.” I exclaimed. “I won’t forget!”

“Don’t you dare, and you too Blaire, you’re so forgetful I swear to God!”

“I never forgot one single thing!” She argues back.

Saying a final round of goodbyes, I waved them off, before slipping into the passenger seat of the Porsche as Angelo started the engine slowly pulling out of the driveway in back gear.

We passed the suburban portion of the city, there were olive grooves and grape vines on either aide of the road, wooden warehouse for each little field.

“Ariel?” Angelo called.

“Hmm?” I responded, my eyes still focused on the scenery outside.

“Are we okay?” He asks taking my hand from my lap.

I feel his lips press against my knuckles.

“Yeah-” I say my voice small. “It’s okay-”

“Look at me, baby.” He urges gently.

I turn my head to look at the man, who alternated his gaze between the road and at me.

“Hmm?”

Angelo brings out intertwined fingers to his lips again, placing a kiss on my wrist.

“What I said, baby-” He focused his eyes on the road.

“Angelo.” I sighed. “I said it was okay, you made up for it to Alyssa, it doesn’t matter-”

“It matters to me, tadpole.” He says.

“It doesn’t, Angelo.” I whispered pulling my hand away from his grasp, looking out of the window once again.

“And it’s fine, with me.” I add.

The rest of the ride to the pent house is silent.

The car stops at the entrance, I get out, close the door of the car and make my way to the elevator, aware of Angelo’s presence close behind me.

We step into the elevator, silently as I scroll throw daily news on my phone, when the elevator pings open, and I step out, stilettos clicking against the marble floor as I make my way to the bedroom, Angelo still close behind me, not uttering a word.

“Ariel.” He urges grabbing my arm when I was about to sit on the circular mini ottoman placed before the dressing table.

Gently turning me toward him, he cups my cheek in his palm.

“You’re hurt.” He states.

This man is mentally, emotionally exhausting and overall tiring sometimes.

Most of the times.

“I am not.” I sigh.

Turning and taking my seat on the ottoman, Angelo stays motionless behind me, his eyes focused on my actions.

The minute I think we’re doing okay, everything gets pulled back and then we’re back at point zero.

It makes no sense.

Us makes no sense.

There is no progress but only deterioration.

I undo the clasp of the necklace and place it on my crystal jewelry box, before undoing my hair, it falls around my shoulders in waves.

“You’re beautiful.” He states.

I stay silent using a baby wipe to remove the velvety lipstick from my lips and the minimal make up I did.

“Tadople.” He sighs.

“You aren’t going to say sorry, Angelo.” I state. “What’s the point?”  I ask abruptly turning toward him.

“What’s the point?” I ask again.

“Are you waiting for me to yell, scream, cry and fight, till I can not but need you to fix me? Fuck

me to sleep ?“ I add.

He doesn’t answer.

“If you’re waiting for that to happen, then you’re in for a long wait, Capo Bestone Giovanni.” I say.

“You’ve unambiguously showed me my position.” I whisper in return of his silence.

“I am going to act my worth, Capo Bestone.”

“Ariel.” He warns.

I shake my head. “I’m sorry that I stepped out of the line Capo Bestone. Forgive me.”

“That’s enough of it.” He hisses grabbing my arm and pulling me closer to him.

“Snap out of it.” He snaps.

I don’t answer him, but his hold on my skin hurts.

“Snap out of this, Ariel.” He orders, his eyes dangerously shining and his voice precariously low.

It quickens my heartbeat.

He sounds like he sounded that night.

Cold. Emotionless.

Scary .

Please.

“Fucking drink it!” He was yelling.

No.

No, I didn’t want to.

No.

“You think I want a kid?” He asked, roughly. “With you?”

What’s wrong with me?

“We were just fucking, Ariel.” He snapped at me.

I was crying.

“And you fucked up, so you fucking deal with it, whore!”

He called me a whore.

“No.” I whisper out, I feel light.

My heart rate won’t stop.

Stop it. I yelled in my head.

“Stop this.” I whispered desperate for the pain to go away from my chest.

Desperately to claw the piece of flesh that makes me feel.

“Make it go away!” I yell.

He was saying something.

I couldn’t hear.

My vision was hazy, blurred.

“Take it away!” I screamed but it was barely audible.

Make it go away.

Take the memory away. I begged to whoever would listen.

Nobody did.

I fell.

It hurt.

I wished I would forget, but I kept on remembering.

---

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

I’ve been a little bit sick lately. Lol.  But it’s okay. I feel relatively fine today.

So update and all. Also I updated earlier then said hour. Hehe.

I hope y’all enjoy cause shit just went down again. This book is exhausting and whatever.

---

Tell me your theories of what you think will happen next?

-November.

20

I woke up to Angelo’s embrace.

He was holding me from behind, every inch of our skin pressed while my head rested in his forearm.

I’ve-

I’ve never woken up like this. I think to myself.

Or to this.

Either I’d find and empty bed or he’d wake up on an empty bed.

His other hand rhythmically massage my scalp and alternates between caressing my cheek and going back to massage my scalp.

I suppose he doesn’t know that I am awake and I suppose he was still in that position, so I don’t have a troubled slumber.

“Awake, tadpole?” He asks.

His voice coarse from the sleep but gentle nevertheless.

I place my hand over his to soundlessly tell him, I was wake.

I had one of those episode again last night. I think.

It drains me from the inside.

Just like the one I had the days after my birthday.

It drains me from the inside and then I wake up feeling heavy, disoriented, clueless and in need of severe reassurance.

I don’t know what to do.

I could leave . I think.

It would cause more damage then good.

“Do you want breakfast?” Angelo asked, our fingers still intertwined, the olive green coverlet pulled up to our waist.

I meekly shake my head, reflecting the zero want of food on my part.

“You’re loosing weight, Ariel.” He stated, pulling our fingers away and making me turn to face him.

“You’re not taking care of yourself.” He declares pushing my messy hair away from my face.

I stare at his onyx orbs, while he caresses my cheek with his knuckles.

I want to take care of myself. I think mentally.

I want to.

I really want to.

“Stay here.” He urges softly. “Let me get you breakfast.”

I don’t answer.

My silence bothers him.

Angelo sighs, untangling himself from my body as he gets out of the bed, maroon silk pajama bottom hanging from his hips, hair tousled, as he makes his way out of the bedroom.

From the bedside table I reach for my phone and unlock the screen.

Missed calls.

Roman.

Spa day. I think mentally as I dial the number and wait for it to get picked.

“Bubbles.” Blair voice drifts from the other end of the cell. “Hey.”

“Hi.” I said mustering the most cheerful voice I could muster.

“Good morning.” I wish.

“Good morning.” She sighs. “Um- babe?”

“Yeah?” I ask.

“Can we postpone spa day?” She asks tentatively.

“Oh?” I asks. “Sure, babe. You okay?”

Blaire sighs from the other end.

“Yeah. Perfect.” She says.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong? Your voice sounds all wobbly.” I state.

“Not over the phone.” She sighs. “Tomorrow when we meet?”

“What’s bothering you?”

“I found something.” She whispers. “Roman thinks I’ve gone mad.”

“Okay?” I ask. “What did you find?”

“I’ll tell you when I see you.” She says. “Roman is here, bye. See you.”

“See you-” the call ended making me frown.

What did she find? I think to myself sitting up, back resting against the headboard, the covers pulled up to my chest, as I scroll through my phone.

There was several missed call from another number that wasn’t saved.

A private number.

Everybody relevant is saved on the contacts so I don’t bother calling back.

As soon as I put the phone down, Angelo walks in with a tray of steaming hot breakfast balanced on both his hands before he sits the tray in front of me, taking his coffee.

I don’t get coffee.

I get juice.

Soup and bread rolls with stuffed buns and a sweet sauce dip.

Sick people’s food.

But I like soup. So o don’t complain.

Sipping his coffee Angelo places the cup down taking the bowl, and stirring the soup before proceeding to spoon feed me.

“Better?” He asks when I swallow the first spoon.

“Hmm.” I agree as he helps me with the bread bite after dipping it into the soup and continues until there is nothing on the bowl then tells me to eat the stuffed buns.

I shake my head pushing the plate away.

He doesn’t press me instead hands me the juice and sits before me with coffee mug in his hand.

“Allora?” He asks pushing my hair back from my face. “You were supposed to go out with your nutcase friend.”

“She’s not a nutcase .” I reply sipping my juice.

Don’t call Blaire a nutcase Angelo!

My juice doesn’t have sugar.

“It got postponed.” I shrug my shoulder.

“Do you have anything else to do all day?” He asks.

I shake my head.

I don’t usually have anything to do any day, these days.

“Then I’d like to take you somewhere.” He says as a matter of fact.

“Oh?” I ask placing the juice glass on the bedside table.

He nods.

“Why?” I ask.

“What do you mean, why?” He asks with a frown on his face.

“Why’d you want to take me out?” I ask.

“Because I want to, tadpole.” He says.

“And also that, what I said last night, wasn’t necessary. You were only trying to- support and I am glad that you were worried about my mother and that her anxiety bothered you.” He add.

I look down, chewing on my lip.

Pinching my chin he lifts my face up to meet his. “And I am sorry for being an insolent asshole, baby.”

I nod, slightly, loss for words.

I didn’t expect an apology from him.

He doesn’t apologize normally.

His words take me by surprise.

“And I’d like to take you out.” He states. “Have you get some fresh air-”

“Angelo?” I ask.

“Sí?”

“I am sorry for approaching you so hostilely , last night.” I say. “I am sorry, I had no right to be so rude and abrupt .”

He barely cracks a smile.

“I know that you’re constantly angry with me, tadpole.” He says. “I- I have nothing to say for myself, because you have every right to be.”

“I shouldn’t have said what I did Angelo.” I whisper. “I know I am not allowed to say things like that-”

He places his lips on mine, silencing my apology.

“I shouldn’t have pushed you last night, I am sorry.” I whisper against his lips, tracing his bottom flesh with my fingertips.

“I am sorry, I won’t do it again.” I add.

I know, I am not allowed to say things to him that hurts his pride.

And last night, I just did that.

Hurt his pride.

He cups my cheek on both his hands and places a kiss on my lips.

“Let me run you a bath?” He asks. “Warm?”

I nod against his lips.

Giving me one last peck on my lips, Angelo walks toward the bathroom.

I eat one of the stuffed buns with the dip, before walking toward the bathroom.

Angelo just finished putting citrus slats in the warm water as I step inside, holding his hand for support.

After I get in and rest my head on my folded arms on the titled edge, he tells me he will get changed before placing a kiss on my lips and walking out.

Letting myself soak in the water, I feel the tight muscles loosen up a bit.

And finally think back to last night.

It was stupid of me.

If he tries, I should try too.

I don’t feel as if I try enough.

But these days Angelo- he tries.

Even a small bit. He does.

But sometimes I don’t even understand me.

Sometimes I want him and then the other times I can’t stand him.

Sometime I figh t him the next moment I want him to take my pain away.

Sometime I act out and then get upset because of being putting back to my place.

Sometimes I feel like I want everything to be right , the next second, I feel as if everything is falling apart .

People will state their opinion on me and then again never bother to know what really goes on inside me.

They don’t care, they’ll just portray me as the stupid girl who pulls the heart broken card.

All I ever want is love but all I ever get is ignorance , ignorance and more ignorance.

Sometimes a metaphorical smack on my face.

But never the kind of love I want.

I am not like most people, I agree.

I want constant reassurance, I want constant attention.

I am insecure.

I get jealous.

I act petty.

I am not okay.

I am not okay, I am not perfect and anybody having the visual of a perfect story should probably stop with mine.

I am not your perfect character and I am not sorry.

This is the way I am, this is the way life shaped me.

People are prone to change, God knows what life holds for me and what change will life bring in me.

Maybe I’ll be better then I am today.

Maybe I won’t be.

Maybe I’ll be worse then I am today.

Maybe I won’t live to see the next sunrise.

Who knows?

Stepping out of the bath, I wrap a towel around my body as I get another to wipe the water away from my body moving toward the closet to get dressed.

I choose a white black polka dotted midi skirt and pair it with a black blouse before brushing my hair and leaving it in waves.

Angelo waits for me, sitting on the edge of the a bed, body clad in a casual white shirt, tucked into the waist band of his slacks.

“You ready?” He asked looking up to see me fumble with the strap of mg shoulder bag.

I nod.

Getting up, he strides over to me, a hand held out for me to grab on to as I place mine on his.

The McLaren was parked in the driveway for us as Angelo helped into the passenger seat before rounding to the driver’s seat slipping inside, starting the engine.

“Alberto has your dog.” Angelo states as we glide to the highway.

A range rover following close behind us.

“That one?” I point at the car on the side view mirror.

“Sí.” He agrees. “It’s not too long of a drive.”

I nod, understanding.

Five minutes later we glide down from the highway to a dirt road.

A minute of drive later, Angelo halts the vehicle in front of double gate.

“Where are we?” I asked as he got out of the car.

He just grinned in response as he walked toward the gate and pressed his palm on a panel making the parts of the door push open before he rounds the car and slips into the driver’s seat once again.

“Angelo?” I prompt as the car enters a well groomed property, cone shaped trees on either side of the driveway lead to a two storied house as we stop in front of the house.

Angelo gets out of the car and helps me out of the passenger seat as the range rover stops behind ours.

“Come on.” Angelo urges, his palm pressed to the small of my back.

I thought he was just taking me out to get some fresh air.

We enter the house through the open double gates.

The floors were slabs of grey veins in white marble as the lovely living room with four bay windows side by side came into view, the dining area connecting the living room and the open kitchen.

A staircase stretched through the middle of the ground floor and lead upstairs.

“Do you like it?” Angelo asked, his hands pressed on the sides of my waist.

“It is lovely.” I said truthfully.

Because it truly was.

A lovely combination of white slight gold to the details. Perfectly furbished and modern.

But no too much.

“There is more.” He whispered, his warm breath ticked my cheeks. “Come.”

We pass through the length of the living room till we were past the stair case and if my mind was blown from the front portion of the house, I’d say my mind just left my whole body.

There was an indoor pool.

But that’s not it.

Crossing the length of the pool area we walked into another room, that was supposed to be either a sperate tea room or a sun room because one side was top to bottom window leading out to the back garden.

“I had the mirrors installed last night.” He says as a matter of fact as I stare around the three mirrored walls, turned into a dance studio.

I turn to face him.

“Angelo-” I whispered, my heart so full.

“I realised you weren’t well emotionally, Ariel.” He said pinching my chin so I looked at him more intently.

“In here, you can dance. Do ballet, get into your other dancing.” He gestured at the room. “Do yoga, meditate.”

“Sit in the sun, read a book, swim, do this and that.” He adds.

“The pent house was jamming your head, and you could do with a nice change of air”

I put my arms around the man, hugging him through the tears leaking out of my eyes.

Angelo tentatively placed his arms around me, as I rested my head on his chest, soaking his shirt with my tears.

We stand there for a while before I wipe away my stupid tears and pull away to face him.

He was confused but looked somewhat relived.

“Are we going to stay here?” I asked imprudently.

“For as long as you want to, baby. He says cupping my cheek. “As long as you want-”

“I really like this room, Angelo.” I say resting my head back against his chest eyeing the stands for practicing ballet postures, a small utility chest of drawers, mirrors all around, two poles stretching from the floor to ceiling.

“Good.” He says, gently grabbing my shoulders and making me pull away from him.

“Now, I want you to promise me that you’ll take care, sí?’ He asks.

I nod.

“I want to take care of yourself, baby.” He says. “In ways that only you can, yes baby?”

“Sí.” I whisper biting my lip. “I’ll try, Angelo.”

“That’s all I ask.” He says. “That’s all I’ll ever ask for you and for us, sí?”

I nod.

He swipes his palms over my cheek wiping away my tears.

“Now let me show you the bedrooms, upstairs.” He says.

I nod.

The master suite was a dream.

“Go figure out yourself.” Angelo said as stepped into the bedroom.

There was a sofa setting in front of the glass panel passing for a window looking out at the backyard and three steps leading up toward circular bed, donned in white and black bedspread.

The suite was furnished with a walk in closet, twice the size of the pent house closet.

The ensuite bathroom came with a circular bowl like ceramic tub, a hexagonal double shower, dual wash basin and a corner portion like room as the toilet with the utilities.

There were four guestrooms, each half as the master suite with walk in closets and ensuite bathroom, all perfectly furnished to look as luxurious as the rest of the house.

I came back to the bedroom after wondering about myself though rest of the house.

Way paranoid to touch anything because everything was pristine white and I was scared the couch would get a dirty finger mark.

Or I’d ruin the carpets.

Angelo looked up from his phone as I entered the room and left the shoes by the door because there was a white grey threadbare carpet covering most of the room and I didn’t want it get ruined.

“Did you see the other rooms?” He asked holding a hand out for me from the edge of the bed where he was sitting.

Padding toward him, I placed my hand on his, as he pulled me abruptly to sit astride him, his hands resting in my hips.

“This house is so gorgeous.” I said earnestly. “I am scared to walk with shoes on-”

“Why?” He frowned.

“I don’t want marks on the carpets.” I said. “Or on the couch.”

“You can change them to a different color-” He suggested.

“I like white.” I said. “It looks clean and lovely.”

Pushing my hair back from my face Angelo flashes me a smile.

“I’ll add my card on your phone so you can get the house shopping done.” He says.

“Everything is furbished already.” I say.  “I wouldn’t want to change a bit, Angelo.”

“Are you sure?” Hr asks.

I nod.  “Positive.”

“Do you feel better then you felt last night, tadpole?” He asks laying down back in the bed, so I am sitting on his covered crotch.

“Yes.” I reply. “I feel-”

“Calm?” He asks.

“Yes.” I frown. “I suppose.”

“Do you want to tell me what triggered you?” He asks, his hands on my hips going up and and down through my back.

I look at his white shirt clad chest.

How do I tell him?

How do I tell him that his yelling triggered me back to that night?

“I was upset, I suppose.” I lie.

“You collapsed.” He states.

I remember that.

“You were crying and yelling and you fainted.” He says. “Something triggered you-”

I bite my lip, sighing.

“I suppose-” I begin. “I suppose when you told me to snap out of it- it- it momentarily transported me back- and- and- I- I felt that pain I felt that night-”

I shake my head.

“I don’t know, Angelo.” I whisper. “Sometimes I just go back-”

He nods.

“Sometimes I can’t help it.” I add. “I want to forget . But- it just keeps coming back-”

“I don’t want it to-”

“You think we can be better?” He asks abruptly. “Put that behind us?”

“Maybe.” I say. “If we try. If I try. Because I keep bringing it back, over and over-”

“I don’t blame you.” He says.

“You should.” I whisper. “You should, because I blame you all the time.”

“I shouldn’t.” He says. “And I don’t. I won’t. Ever. “

I barely smile at him placing my palm on his stubbled cheek.

“Let me make you lunch.” I offer, wanting this tensed air leave us.

Moving his face he places a kiss on my palm.

“You want to cook for me, baby?” He asks.

His tone playful and suggestive.

I nod but shriek as soon as he flips us back so I am laying under him, his knees on either side of my hips fingers intertwined pressed in the sides of my head.

“You’re beautiful.” He states looking intently into my eyes.

The way he looks at me makes me smile.

“I’d rather have you for lunch, tadpole.” He says, pulling his right hand away from mine and pushing my hair back.

Angelo leans down, his lips touch mine in the most gentlest dance, slowly and softly, he kisses me, devours me, as his hands roam all over my body, possessively.

Knuckles caress over my breasts making nipple peak out from under the sheath of my blouse as we pull away for catching our breath.

Angelo, sitting back on his knees takes his time to undo his shirt and discard it on the floor, palms resuming to explore every inch of my body, taking off my blouse, my skirt, my underwear before connecting our lips again.

I was already wet and ready for him, when I felt the tip of his girth nudging my entrance.

Pushing himself inside with one hard and deep thrust, he leans down and gathers me in his arms, holding me close as I wrap my arms around his neck.

My moans and groans covering up the sounds out bodies make as we connect in the most intimate ways.

I’ve never felt this way, I think as a moan rips though me from his ministrations.

“Ariel.” Angelo sighs, his face buried in the crook of my neck as he slowly pulls out of my wetness and thrusts himself back in.

Hard, yet agonisingly slow, his girth swelling inside me as I feel my body shake along with his with the approach of our climax.

“Oh, Angelo.” I cry out, my fingers pulling his hair as I raise my body up to meet him thrust for thrust, hoping and trying to make him increase him pace as we slowly, oh so very slowly, build up our orgasm.

“Cum with me, baby.” Angelo urges.

His lips placing tiny wet kisses along the length of my neck as I feel him start to throb, his strokes getting sloppier, the numbness on my stomach returns and our body shakes as one as Angelo hold me close.

Our arousal soak the new bed, but I still hold him to me, waiting for the tremors of my body to pass as I catch my breath.

Pulling himself out of my heat, Angelo caresses my cheek, my eyes heavy, dropping.

But I still want to make him lunch. I think to myself.

Ten seconds later when I finally feel my muscles I sit up, making Angelo roll over to the other side of the massive circular bed.

“Let’s shower.” I offer. “Then I’ll make you lunch.”

---

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Okay, now might be a good time to tell y’all that idk what this book is. Lmao.

Also this was a very badly written chapter.

So yeah~ and a bit messy but I think it was if not fully but slightly necessary-

Also whose POV do you want next chapter?

Also ARE Y’ALL EXCITED FOR LEONIDAS’S BOOK?

-November

21

Ariel made stuffed peppers and Pappardelle with mushrooms for lunch.

I asked if she wanted to sit inside or outside for lunch while watching my woman move around the kitchen humming a tune.

A tune she likely dances classical ballet to.

“Outside?” She as if questioned. Her voice soft and timid.

So I picked out a bottle of chilled Chardonnay to go with our lunch under the peach tree of our new garden.

Ariel got the plates containing, home made food, a small smile resting on her lips, as she placed the ceramic on the table, one for me, the other for her and made a detour to get the rest of the food, in case a second serving was needed.

Pouring wine to both our glasses, I momentarily transport back to last night.

To say I was scared, would be putting it very mildly.

I grew up, trained to kill on sight, upon sensing danger.

I’ve never been as petrified of human guts as I was last night watching Ariel trying claw her flesh out from inside if her skin.

It- pained me to see her that way.

Her cries, her helpless screams and traumatized pleas drove me to a place full of guilt.

As I held her trembling, shuddering unconscious form on the bedroom floor, I couldn’t help but feel like a man who failed the women he ever felt anything about.

Ariel, wasn’t healthy mentally.

She hasn’t been healthy for quite a while.

And the lack of her mental and self gratification was showing at intervals.

She needed a change.

She needed a lot of things to be changed around her.

She needed care.

And a lot more then she’d ever agree for.

She needed to take care of herself in ways that she only could.

Just in the same way she needed some body to care for her.

She passed some of the hardest moments of her life alone.

As far as I knew Ariel was always a lone army, always on her own, and it was about time her despondency took a toll on her.

After all, there is only so much a person can take.

Not everybody is built to ignore and move on.

Sometimes- most of the time the moments of pain come back and often, one looses oneself in it so entirely that consciousness fades away and darkness becomes their only company.

I wouldn’t want that for Ariel.

The faster she gets better, the faster she heals emotionally and mentally, the better for her and for us.

I wouldn’t want one night’s event describe our future.

I’ve never wanted someone’s presence in my life as I want Ariel’s.

Something about her keeps me intrigued.

Something about her makes me circle back at her.

It might be the fact that, the woman can fight a hundred battles and still find a reason to smile over the smallest things.

Or it might be how she thinks it’s more important to be a part of something than winning or loosing.

Or it might be that she can walk into a room and make everybody fall at their knees for her with just a flash of that lovely smile and tilting her head ever so slightly.

Or maybe that the pasta she makes, tastes like it just dropped from heaven-

“I almost burned the peppers.” Ariel complained as she placed the ceramic bowl containing three more stuffed bell peppers on the centre of the circular table.

“The oven is too tricky, I swear.” She sighed putting off the bright yellow oven mitts on the table.

Ariel had put her black silken blouse with her skirt after our lascivious activities in the bedroom.

Her ombre pink hair was pulled up in a bun on top of her head and she looked somewhat content of her achievement in the kitchen.

“What?” She smiled while our eyes met.

She knew that I was watching her.

And I knew she loved it when I watched but she made a damn good show about acting oblivious.

“What?” I asked back, my tone mirroring her, content. Playful. Relaxed.

“You’re staring.” She voiced with a smile lingering on the corner of her mouth as she filled the water goblets with iced water from the jug.

“So are you.” I retorted unfolding my napkin over my lap.

She shook her bead putting another of the red stuffed pepper on my already filled plate.

“Eat.” She urged gently. “I think I went a little bit cheap in the oil.”

She didn’t go cheap on the oil.

The pepper was perfect so was the the pasta and everything in between.

The food, the holding hand while we ate, the occasional exchange of looks that made her shake her head and smile gently at the same time.

“Do you want coffee?” She asked putting her napkin beside the plate, indicating the end of her meal.

Nodding I got up from the chair, to make myself useful.

“I’ll get it.” I say placing a kiss on her mouth feeling her smile against me.

“Okay.” She whispers against my mouth, before I turn back walking inside the house to get my café espresso.

Crossing through the length of the pool room and living room rounding toward the kitchen I put the grounded coffee in the machine and wait for my two espresso shots.

Outside in the back garden of the house, Ariel sits on the grass covered soil cross legged with the tiny little mutt of hers on her lap.

That’s one lazy dog. I think mentally as I make my way toward the pair of them.

“Hi.” Ariel smiles as I sit beside her on the grass.

“Why, hello.” I smile placing a kiss in her mouth. “How do you feel?” I ask.

“Gratified.” She whispers leaning her head against my shoulder as her hand tickle her dog that makes those winey sort of noise.

Girls find tiny dogs cute.

“Is he okay?” I asked Ariel watching Coco with barely there enthusiasm.

“Hmm.” She hums. “He’s relaxing.”

“He doesn’t do nothing-”

“He is a doggie, Angelo.” She giggles. “Give him rest.”

Yeah whatever.

The fucking thing doesn’t even move and yet needs to relax.

I put my free arm around her shoulder and pull her close to my me.

Ariel makes a hum of relaxation as she looks up to me.

“Don’t you have work today?” She asks. “You’re usually out of the door before seven-”

“I’m on a week off.” I state.

“Sure.” She teased resting her head back against my shoulder.

“This is nice, Angelo.” She sighs.

“The view?” I ask as we overlook the property, basically in the middle of nowhere.

“Sí.” She agreed.

“Do you think you could stay?” I asked, conscious of my tone.

Paranoid for her upcoming answer.

Ariel was unpredictable.

She changed her mind like the wind directions at sea.

“Sí.” She agreed. “For long as you want.”

I realised her was looking at me, a smile of contentment gracing her lovely face.

“I’d stay as long as you would.” I said, relived.

No matter, what it was slightly hard to believe Ariel would stay.

Ariel never stays.

She’s been her own person, living on her own term as long as I knew her.

If she didn’t want to stay, nobody could make her.

And if she stays, it would mean that she wants to stay not that she has nowhere to go.

And right now, she wants to stay.

And that’s all I’ll ever ask of her.

To stay and to try, till we are what she needs us to be.

The phone on my pocket vibrated indicating a call.

Watching Roman’s name flashing on the screen, I answered the call.

“Bo-”

“Hello, mother fucker!” Blaire’s voice made it’s way through the earpiece making me roll my eyes.

“What do you want?” I asked, not so pleased at her tone of approach.

“Don’t be rude, Devil-o.” She said, I could almost imagine the unhinged woman rolling her eyes on the other side.

“Why’d you call?” I asked, infatuated with her voice.

Ariel looked at me, a frown resting in her face.

Blaire is mad. Point.

“I’m just informing you very kindly that we’re on our way to see your lovely new home

• we’re gift shopping as we speak-“

Jesus fucking Christ.

“Who’s we?” I frowned.

“Us, obviously.” She answered as if it was an absurd question. “Me, your mums and your dads and Roman-”

“Jesus-”

“I didn’t know you prayed .” She commented.

What the fuck is wrong with the woman?

“ Anywhoo -“ She sing songed. “We’ll be there for dinner, let Ariel know and y’all better not be fucking around-”

I end the call unable to take her mindless bickering for a second more.

“Your expression is comical.” Ariel said, her lower lip between her teeth.

“Comical?” I asked raising an eye brow.

She nodded, teeth clamped on her lips trying to stop the smile breaking out on her face.

“Are you implying that I look funny , tadpole?”

“I’ve never said that-” She shakes her head, now full blown grinning as I inch closer to her petite self.

Coco, the lazy mutt rolls off her lao and leisurely walks toward a butterfly by the olive groove, like he owns the property.

I ignore it, as my close proximity makes Ariel lay on her back.

I straddle her, palms on her cheeks as I slowly slide them down to the sides of her neck, down to her breast, feeling her nipples peak out from under her shirt as I caress down her body.

Ariel’s breathing pattern changes, it goes from relaxed to excited as I feel her heart rate increase against me.

“You want this out here, baby?” I tease playing with the snap of her skirt, as I lean down to place a kiss on her cheek.

“Is this what you want, little tadpole?” I whisper against her ear as I kiss her other cheek.

“Angelo-” She breathes her hands going around my neck as kiss down her neck, she arches her body up to connect herself to me.

I pull away making her whine in frustration.

“You tease!” She accuses, pulling me abruptly back down to connect her lips with mine, massaging my bottom lip with her tongue.

She tastes of Chardonnay as she takes the access granted to her massaging my tongue softly with her, pulling mine up in an erotic, slow dance.

I’d say Ariel was the only woman to throw me off guard.

She did.

Abruptly pushing against my chest, she reversed our position on the grass land, her hair falling above us like a veil as I tuck one side behind her ear, her face flushed as she slowly grinds her bare core on my covered crotch.

Bringing me up while drenching me in her wetness.

“You want to ride me, baby?” I asked cupping her beautiful face in my palms, bringing our lips together, in a frantic kiss.

Ariel breathes deeply deliriously unbuttoning my shirt, connecting our mouths over again, her hands trailing down my bare chest, feeling the muscles underneath her warm palms before she reaches my slack restrained almost stretched crotch.

Pushing away from my lips once again to heave a lungful of air, like a starved women she undoes my fly and pushes away the flap of my briefs.

My erection springs free.

With her bottom lip between her teeth, my woman looks at me with eyes full of carnal need and desire, gathering her wide skirt on her fists, lowering herself on top of me.

I groan as she engulfs my hard girth with her warm wet heat.

Fuck. I can never get enough of her.

This.

Us.

“Jesus-” I moan as she takes me all the way up inside her as  downs herself on my thigh, slowly rocking her hips back and forth while my nails dig into the flesh of her round bottom.

“Fuck, Ariel!” I groan as I feel her raise up slowly and push herself back down with a little humph and grunt.

“Fuck, baby-” I sigh deeply as my grip slowly loosens around her ass and she picks up her pace.

Frantic, fast, knees digging into the grass hands in either side of my head, breasts covered and hanging low from her chest as I lean up and run my tongue up her hardened nipple ever so slightly.

Her pussy clenches from my touch as she moans out out, rotating her hips between her bounces as rocking her ass back and forth, driving me mad.

With eyes closed, my hands trail up from her behind to her back, slowly inching toward her breasts, taking her taunt nipples between my fingers, harshly twisting them making she shriek and moan as her pussy spasms, clutching my cock, making the sensitive flesh throb and pound inside her.

I feel my dick swell inside her warmth as her pace becomes sloppy and slow, almost as if she can’t continue anymore.

“Fuck baby.” I curse out, my  hands trailing down to her bottom again helping her move up and down on my shaft.

“Don’t fucking stop, tadpole.” I order, nails digging on her ass.

“Un-hmmhnnm.” Ariel moans her eyes closed as he rides me, bringing me close to my orgasm almost loosing herself in the process.

“F-fuck!” She cries, her body dropping on top of mine, cock still buried inside her, as she slowly rocks her hips back and forth, slowly, out of strength.

I flip us over, bodies still connected as Ariel wraps her legs around my waist while I pick up my pace after a slow stroke, hitting her sweet spot, making her cry out.

Her head lolling from side to side, hands culling her breasts.

Good old missionary-

“I’m- I’m gunna cum-” She breaths, baby brown eyes glazed over as her whole body shakes with every push and pull of my dick inside her, while she pinches and toys with her nipples, wincing, moaning, crying out with every thrust and pull.

In. Out.

Hard and fast as I fuck her to oblivion.

Her eyes roll back, eye lids dropping as mouth open in a silent moan, core muscles spasm and her petite form shakes with tremors of utter sexual pleasure.

I watch Ariel come undone under me while riding out my own climax, emptying my arousal inside her, as I observe my woman with utter endearment and fondness.

Looking the most gorgeous and breathtaking with my dick buried in her, insides flowing with my essence, a mess.

My mess.

My gorgeous mess.

Ariel takes a second to calm her frantic breathing and train speed heartbeat before opening her eyes and looking at me with her glazed over eyes, cheeks flushed red and a smile on her face.

Gently pulling out of her I feel her body quiver slightly as she whines from the loss of contact between us.

After tucking myself in, I roll to the other side, laying beside her on the grass while she fixes her skirt down her body.

Seconds or minutes later, Ariel breaks out into a fit of giggles making me look at her.

A smile plastered on my lips as she shuffles closer to me, still laughing.

Her face buried against my chest as the sound of her laughter vibrates throughout my whole body.

“Outside, Angelo.” She laughs some more, her hand going around my chest and sneaking itself around my neck as she snuggles me, one leg thrown over mine.

I chuckle massaging her head, she hums.

We lay, relaxing in the afternoon sun long after Ariel stops laughing about our ride outdoors.

“Family is going to be here, for dinner.” I interrupt our silence as I watch Coco roam around the grass lands sniffing whatever bush he can find and what not.

“For dinner?” Ariel asks raising her face so her chin rests on my chest. “Tonight?”

“Sí.” I agree.

She hurriedly sits up, gathering her hair in her hands and putting it into a knot bun.

“Why won’t you tell me earlier?” She complained getting up and swaying on her feet slightly making me get up in case she topples over.

She grabs my hand steadying herself.

“Just muzzy.” She reassures.

“You sure?” I ask concerned.

“Sí.” She nods.

“I was almost asleep.” She adds with an ignominious shake of her head.

“I am fine.” She reassures.

I find it hard to believe her that she is fine.

Maybe if she lay down for a while.

“There is time for dinner.” I say.

She waves me off with another,

“Seriously Angelo. I am fine.”

I help Ariel walk in side the house after she adamantly clears off the outdoor table and carries the used cutlery and ceramic inside to wash them.

Ariel and I showered quickly in the bathroom, while she changed into a slip dress, looking modest the length going down her knee.

She braided her hair over one side so it was out of her face looking gorgeous enough and dashed to the kitchen, bare feet.

I didn’t know of she felt excited or paranoid .

If it was the other, I will call and cancel this impromptu self invited dinner to the house.

However, the sight of the kitchen when I finally made my way down, relaxed, dressed in a pair of grey silk pajama bottoms and a whit T-shirt, I realised she wasn’t paranoid.

Ariel was beyond excited and had already started taking out things from the fridge, the recipe open on her phone on the marble counter as she reads it and moves back and forth at her own comfort, a red apron donned over her black silken dress.

“If you’d just told me sooner.” She complained again refusing my help.

I smirked pouring myself a glass of whisky from the decanter placed on a crystal tray as the center piece of the counter.

“Would you ask Alyssa or Donna Coralyn what they’d like for appetizer?” Ariel asks as she puts ladle full tortellini pasta onto boiling water on the cooking pot.

This family hoards woman who loose themselves in appetizer and become too full for the main meal but somehow finds space to eat desert .

So I reply Ariel, that appetizer isn’t necessary.

If she wasn’t already so worked up working between two dishes, I’m sure she’d find the time to question me why and why not.

But being as preoccupied as she was she either forgets it or ignores it and works in her own way to make the custard and the tortellini while I sip my whiskey blend.

“I’m home!” A yell coming from the front door makes me sigh.

There we go.

Ariel dims the stove to let the sauce  simmer while she runs to greet her friend who’s apparently ’ home ’

“Damn, this place looks good.” Blaire said  after she was done hugging and air kissing her best friend and examining her at arms length.

“You live here too?” She asks watching me enter the living room.

“How- dreadful.” She rolls her eyes shaking her head.

I ignore her useless and senseless bickering.

Roman walks in behind her, carrying some bags.

I hug my brother, kissing his temple.

“You alright?” I ask holding him at arms length.

He nods. “Are you?”

“Sí.”

The rest two cars pull on the driveway almost five minutes after Blaire follows Ariel into the kitchen, as the rest of the family makes their way inside.

Mama hugs me.

Mama Cora gives me a tight a smile on her face and pats my cheek lovingly before they too join the rest in the kitchen.

I make myself helpful getting the bottle of whisky and Cuban cigars from the living room cabinet.

“Good work they did overnight.” Papa Marcus compliments pouring himself a glass of Macallan.

“How do you feel?” He asks.

“It’s been only a day.” I answer, swirling my drink. “It feels good.”

“That’s all that counts.” He says.

“I suppose.” I tilt my head in a thoughtful manner.

“Just so you know-” Lorenzo says with a smirk lingering on his face while he puffs the cigar.

I raise an eyebrow at the older man.

To say he was the father figure in my life would be me putting the situation mildly.

He was there for my ma since day one and here he is twenty nine years later.

Still by her.

The news of their engagement, took me by surprise.

Or shock rather.

However, I was glad that Lorenzo was being given the place she should’ve the moment he walked into our lives.

I acted like an asshole last night, for that I have no explanation, even though I apologized to the man personally and in presence of the family.

I was glad that ma found him.

And I am glad that he found ma.

“They’ve made a plan to stay overnight so they can go this cake tasting together, tomorrow.” Lorenzo adds, still smirking smugly.

Jesus Fucking Christ. I think to myself.

“I still feel no fuss about it, it’s not that of a major celebration-” He says leaning back against the white couch.

“My wife is the most persuasive women you’ll ever meet, Lorenzo.” Papa Marcus says, tone of adoration evident in his voice

“She doesn’t know when to stop when it comes to the people she loves more then life itself.” He adds

“Indeed.” Lorenzo agrees. “Indeed.”

“I feel they’re excited.” Papa Marcus says. “Even in the midst of what’s going on- it will be a good change-”

“That reminds me-” Roman says pouring himself another drink of chilled Macallan.

I turn my attention toward him.

“Blaire suggested an absurd yet intriguing theory this morning.” He says.

“I do not entirely believe her because for inescapable reasons it lacks physical evidence- however, I haven’t been able get it out of my head.”

“What do you implicate?” I ask sitting straight on my seat.

“Sí, do elaborate-” Papa Marcus just begun when, mama announces that dinner was ready to be served.

Well- after dinner meeting it is.

---

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

I fell like a broken record but I really have no idea what I am doing or writing.

This is a messy as fuck and a very badly written chapter.

Sorry if it wasn’t up to y’alls mark👉👈

I am trying but it still doesn’t feel good enough.

You’re your worst critique I suppose~

And I am sorry for being an hour late.

Also

What’s in your feeling about Angelo’s slight change?

What did Blaire find?

And what is gunna happen next?

I love getting ideas squeak! squeak!

-November.

22

There was some sort of after dinner meeting among the men.

Or so I could tell as the four of them made way into Angelo’s office saying there was something to discuss.

Coralyn and Alyssa helped me clear off the table while Blaire fed Coco and I washed the dishes, put them in the stainer before walked out in the living room, wiping my hand with a flannel.

“Sit.” Alyssa said with a grin on her face making space for me on the couch while Blaire cuddled Coco on the other and Coralyn sat with the throw blanket over her.

“Coffee?” I asked if they wanted any as I took my seat.

They shook their heads.

So, relived of the hostess duty I leaned back against the couch and tucked my feet under my bottom, getting comfortable.

“Did you like the presents?” Alyssa asked.

“I loved them.” I say truthfully.

All of them bought house warming presents, bits of jewelry and something for the house.

Something for Angelo as well.

They rested on the centre table  unwrapped, red velvet boxes of the jewelry, a vase that Blaire chose.

Some show pieces that Donna Coralyn and Alyssa got.

Blaire bought Coco a bright blue collar with a bell.

And a matching leash.

I told her it was a cat’s collar.

She replied. “Don’t be specie-sist”

I told her that’s not a word, while she fastened the bell collar around Coco’s neck.

Coco loved it and gave Blaire a show walk, wagging his tiny tail behind him, proudly.

Fucking royalty.

She told me not to discriminate between species of pets, while giving me a dirty look.

Shaking my head, I had let the argument go.

Before dinner, as we received the presents, we also said a prayer so that food always stays on the table of this house.

The way the whole family, showed acceptance and blessed the table, it made me emotional.

Positively, of course.

I felt happy and accepted by them.

It wasn’t for the diamonds or the gold or the presents.

It was how warmly they welcomed themselves here, treating this place and me as if they weren’t guest but my own family.

It made me really happy.

It made me feel- as if I had some one to call my own and turn my head to, in times of need.

“Ariel?” I heard before Alyssa’s palm rested on my shoulder.

“Yeah?” I asked with a smile on my face.

“You were lost.” She declared.

“Just zoned out.” I say followed with a sigh. “Were you saying something?”

“I said we should go look at the dresses as well while we’re out tasting cake.” She said.

“Which seems like a tiring idea.” Coralyn pipes up.

“But fun, can we get lunch from good trucks too? Lots of unhealthy food!” She slaps her palms together.

Blaire laughs at the older woman’s excitement.

“Marcus doesn’t let me have food truck food-” She pouts.

“We can get food truck food.” Alyssa agrees.

We stay talking for some while about what boutique should we try out or if we should try out some renowned brands and what not-

“We should go check out some bridal dresses-” Coralyn muses

“No.” Alyssa says sternly.

She was adamant that she was wearing a non bridal piece.

As much as we were disagreeing.

“I’m not saying it has to be all puffy and big- just a white dress, you can always do simple, biscuit-”

Alyssa shakes her head. “I’m fifty one years old-”

“You’ve got a fucking ravishing figure.” Blaire says.

“Plus you look like you’re thirty.” She adds with a shrug scratching Coco’s fur.

Alyssa sighs.

“We should go with a mermaid cut.” I pipe up. “Maybe with a lace back and full sleeves-”

“Sexy as fuck.” Coralyn squeals.

“Maybe with a sheer train.” I nod at the visual of the dress I created in my head.

“An embroidered sheer train.” Blaire corrects me.  “Maybe like they can make some quotes or names embroidered-”

“Okay-” Alyssa sakes her head. “Enough imagination for a night, kids.”

Blaire pouts.

“But it sounds so good, biscuit.” Coralyn whines, bouncing on the sofa almost like a five year old.

“You all aren’t helping.” Alyssa shook her head chuckling.

“It’s not you’ll to bride yourself  three times more, again.” Blaire says.

“It’s one time thingy and all that baloney-” She crinkles her nose.

Coralyn nods enthusiastically. “And matching lingerie-”

“Alright.” Alyssa holds up her hands chuckling.

“Kids, Cora-” The women points at us.

Coralyn waves her off. “They have their fair portion of fun. They know what lingerie is, biscuit.”

“Yep.” Blaire nods.

Alyssa shakes her head.

The topic gets buried for a while as she moves toward the cake flavours and showing some designs of simple yet elegant wedding cakes.

I ask how many people are going to attend.

“Around fifty to ninety.” Alyssa says toying with chain on her neck.

“Are you okay?” I ask seeing her slightly nervous then she was before.

Coralyn got her bedtime call and so she left barely five minutes ago  huffing and cussing but not really.

She said and I quote “ Fudging banana cakes, I want to stay up one night, machine gun my

butt-

too much to ask !“

I hope Angelo showed them the guestroom and helped them to get settled.

I wouldn’t want them uncomfortable or anything.

“Yeah-” She smiles at me. “Just-”

“Nervous?” I ask.

“Slightly.” She shrugs. “But this is normal, isn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t know.” I shrug. “But I suppose yeah, it’s a big step and not a silly one so I suppose it’s normal. Yeah.”

“I suppose.” She nods going back to look at the cake designs.

“I’ve been with Lorenzo for a long while now.” She says out of the blue making me look back at her.

I nod.

I am pretty sure she told me this last night as well.

“I mean- after Angelo- I was almost down, broken , on the verge of suicide-” She grimaces thinking back.

Thinking that she needs someone to listen, I stay quiet and listen to her.

“But when you’re at your lowest, there is always someone to come and save you, I’d say Lorenzo was slightly more then a year late but- I am glad he was there and after all these years, without any kind of commitment- he the still here.”

I nod. “Well, that’s love.”

She nods.

“Angelo’s papa- he left me in a bad place.” She confessed.

“I was- I still am a very stubborn women, Ariel, I’d never bow down to nobody hurting my pride and so I didn’t back then.” She sighs and then smiles looking at me.

“But I am glad he left me- us.” She said. “I wouldn’t have life any other way.”

“Did you love him?” I ask.

I know I probably shouldn’t ask personal stuff.

It’s entirely her life and I am still a very very new part of this but I just couldn’t help but ask-

“No.” She said surely.

“I was attracted to him in a very love-hate-fuck-kill sort of way.”

I nod.

“But I was never in love. With him.” She says.

“I’m in love with Lorenzo, and I’ve been for almost twenty nine years.” She adds

I nod.

“But do you know what?” She asks giving me a friendly nudge on the shoulder.

“Hmm?” I ask, with a smile resting on my face.

“I am glad I don’t love him.” She says with a smile on her face.

I giggle out from her confession.

“He was an asshole.” She says.

“Well if he lost all that-” Blaire gestures at Alyssa figure. “He must be a little piece of garbage.”

I laugh along with Alyssa.

“Jokes aside-” Blaire says letting a very squirmy Coco down her lao so he walks to wherever.

“I think you should at least get a bomb dress. And damn good lingerie.” She adds.

“Yep.” I agree, nodding.

“For Lorenzo’s sake.” Blaire grimaces.

“Lad’s waited twenty nine years he at least deserves a damn good wedding night-”

Alyssa throws a pillow at Blaire making her duck.

The older women’s face red, but her smile in place.

Good.

She looked rather nervous minutes ago.

“Jesus woman!” Blaire narrows her eyes at Alyssa. “Look at you blushing.”

She throws another pillow at her.

Blaire ducks again.

“Alyssa.” We hear.

Lorenzo, who was sporting a steel grey two piece suit tonight called from the top of the stairs for his fiancé.

“Bed time.” He announced making the women flush again.

Blaire teased her suggestively again, wiggling her eyebrows getting hit with another pillow before Alyssa made her way to Lorenzo saying goodnight to us and giving me and Blaire kiss on the cheek.

“This is so satisfying.” Blaire said laying back against the arm rest of the couch and grinning.

“ Bullying is satisfying?“ I raise an eye brow at her.

“It’s called teasing your superficial mum .” She corrected me.

“I wish I had them women for mums to be honest.” She sighs.

Thinking back, how childhood would be with a mother I  general.

With a motherly presence.

A safe embrace.

A place to go when I was feeling down or low.

An emotional support.

Somebody to talk to without being guarded.

Somebody to complain about every thing.

Yeah. I would have liked that too.

“Me too.” I agree.

“They’re damn good people.” She says.

“Hmm.” I agree.

“Ariel?” Blaire asks after a silent pause between the two of us.

“Yeah?”

“What are the chances mademoiselle baguette came to Italy before she really came to Italy.”

“I don’t know.” I say propping myself on an elbow. “Why?”

“I doubt-” She says, turning to face me. “I am pretty damn sure baguette is behind these attacks.”

Attacks.

As in more than one?

“What do you mean, attacks ?”

“Well not successful ones really.” She says.

“There was almost a felony at the inn- in my bedroom specifically.”

“Oh?” I frown.

“You didn’t say that before.” I add.

“I didn’t want to worry you, Angelo was in Greece and you were already tensed and all- so I didn’t say.” She says apologetically.

I nod understanding.

If she had told me, I am positive I’d have her tied to the guest bed at the pent house refusing to let her leave.

“How’d she get inside the inn?” I ask frowning. “I mean- it’s guarded.”

“Not to baguette, it isn’t. Is it? She’s inside people.” She said, chewing on her bottom lip.

“And- I doubt those attacks are meant for Angelo or Roman.”

I frown.

“You mean to say they’re indicated at- us?” I ask Blaire.

“Yes.” She agrees.

“That don’t make any sense-”

“In Greece there was an attack on Angelo, the estate attacked through Roman’s window, how much does it take to kill a man who is supposedly to be asleep, Mob boss or not, with machine guns mind you.” She says.

“Those were never meant to kill, bubbles.” She says.

“The attacks on Roman and Angelo. They were never meant to end the Don and Capo Bestone.”

“Angelo got shot.” I pointed out. “Three times-”

“A highway shootout, Roman said.” She turns her face upwards at the ceiling.

“I watched some highway shoot out video on YouTube and the other side of the web- none of them ends with the target walking out alive-”

“Unless planned?” I complete it for her.

“Yep.” She says. “So miss baguette Moulin Rouge- had it planned, so the most damage Angelo had was bullet grazes.”

“She attacked Roman, she attacked Angelo and then she was trying to attack me and then you but she failed-”

“I don’t understand, in general You’re loosing me-” I frown.

It seemed to be on my face constantly since we started talking.

“The Chloroform.” She added. “She had a plan, but she didn’t possibly realise that Roman and Angelo would be  there at the same time.”

Okay.

She has a point.

“On that night when the trouble came- there was duct tape on the window ledge-” Blaire says.

“Either she wanted to silence the both of us- or make us disappear.” She adds.

“And she’s going to keep trying.” Blaire chews her lip. “She’s gonna keep trying-”

I fail to understand Anne’s ulterior motive.

I mean- we don’t even know if it’s Anne or not.

But she needs to have a motive to do this.

And what would that be?

Money? Power? Roman and Angelo?

Blaire halts her speech as the footsteps echo throughout the now silent house.

I look toward the staircase to see Angelo and Roman walking down.

Both of the man reeks of cigar as they claim their seat on the couch.

Roman by Blaire’s side.

I give her a suggestive look but she pretends like she didn’t see.

Angelo sits beside as he pulls my form close making my head rest against his chest.

“House visit turned out better than expected, Devil-o.” Blaire teases with a wink.

Angelo shakes his head not choosing to give her a snap back.

“You okay?” I ask rising my face up to meet his dark orbs.

He gives me a nod, I lay my head back down on his chest.

There was a silence surrounding us.

But not really the uncomfortable and full of tension kind but ’ it’s really weird ’ kind if silence.

“Did you show Donna Coralyn and Alyssa to the guest rooms?” I ask Angelo.

He nods. “Sí. I also asked if they need anything and if they did, they just needed to yell.”

Okay.

“Does that put you to ease?”

“Sí.” I agree grinning up to the man and pecking his lips.

“I have to get Coco to his bed.” I say untangling myself from Angelo and getting down from the couch.

“Blaire, you coming?”

“Yeah.” She drawls putting her feet down from Romans lap.

“His impassiveness makes me nervous.” She whispered when we were out of earshot of the men.

“He’s been like that.” I say.

“I mean.” Blaire sighs. “It’s alright when we’re alone, he talks, he let’s me in but out side or in presence of someone, his guard is back up-”

Understanding, I nod.

Roman-

Roman has issues with feelings.

He feels alright, he just doesn’t know how to express them.

Or so he’s been since the death of his fiancé.

Maria, I think her name was.

I don’t know if Blaire knows.

“Do you think if that’ll ever change?” She asks as we look for Coco in the pool room.

“Angelo is like that too, you know?” I ask.

“Outside or in presence of company that really isn’t an inside circle he puts up his guard.” I add.

“It’s sort of a mechanism? That portrays them different I suppose. Powerful. Feared.” I explain.

“It’s probably normal.” She says.

“I wonder if he was like this with his ex-girlfriend-” Blaire sighs as I open the sliding door further.

I swear Coco is way too active today.

“You know about-”

“Maria?” Blaire asks. “Yeah.”

I nod.

“She died.” Blaire adds. “That’s all he said.”

If you only knew how. I think.

“If Roman told you about Maria, Blaire-” I smile. “Then he feels about you more than you let in babe.”

“Don’t give me hope.” She whispers.

“You catching feelings?” I nudge her shoulder gently yet playfully

“No!” She defends herself.

“I don’t catch feelings .” She adds before yelling for Coco.

“Coco!” I yell following Blaire.

The mutt yaps, the jingle of the bell around his neck closer.

Oh well.

“Coco, in here, baby!” Blaire yells again, Coco barks while his small feet pad through the grass stopping in front of the pair of us.

“I’m gonna get a dog.” Blaire says. “So Coco can have a Sugar friend.”

“What did you get into!” I complain as I see his paws littered with mud.

“Maybe he jumped in a puddle.” Blaire crinkles up her nose at Coco’s muddy condition.

“Messy.” She complains.

“You bad boy.” I admonish making him whine before picking him up so he doesn’t make a mess on the floors.

Blaire and Roman shares the middle room of the third guest room and I make sure both of them are comfortable before giving Blaire a good night kiss and smiling at Roman.

In our bathroom I give my little doggie a bath while Angelo watches.

“Your dog needs different shampoo?” He asks when I use mine to wash him.

“Um-hmm.” I say using the shower head and a thick comb to wash the suds of my whining mutt.

“Stay still, now.” I tell him again getting the conditioner bottle.

“He’s royalty.” Angelo complains.

He’s my doggie.

“Why can’t you bathe me like that?” He adds.

“Awe.” I pout look back at him. “You want me to bathe you?”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

Shaking my head I wash Coco for the last time as he shakes off the water from his fur before I wrap a towel around him, rubbing his head and get him out of the shower.

“Where does he sleep?” I ask wiping my palms down my dress moving closer to Angelo and putting my arm around his neck.

“Wherever you want.” He asks his hands resting on my waist.

I smile. “You smell of cigar.”

“Bathe me?” He suggests making me laugh.

“I like it.” I say, nuzzling his chest.

“Then let’s go to bed.”

Our going to bed turns out not really going to bed.

Our going to bed turns out, me on my front, ass perched up while I bite on a pillow as Angelo slams into me from behind, groaning and grunting deep in his throat.

My hair wrapped around his wrist pushing my head back on the pillow and pull me up to face him at the same time.

“Fuck!” I cry out as his fingers dig into the flesh in my bottom, cock buried deep inside of me as he rotates his hip in circle.

“Hush.” He orders. “Don’t want mama hearing, do we, baby?”

“No.” I mumble into the pillow as I slink my teeth on to the soft feathery surface once again

 Eyes closed enjoying the shake of euphoria he delivers to my body.

I am close. Again.

I already feel the muscles of my stomach scrunching up and the numbness on my toes but Angelo takes his own sweet time to torture me, drawing out my orgasm as long as he can.

Groaning, he slams his hip back in connecting us, my hands fists on the bedsheets tightly as I feel the familiar build inside my stomach.

The man picks up his pace hard, fast, quick as I feel him swell inside me, ready for his own climax and bringing me close to my second one.

“Jesus-” I gasp as hand finds my clit and gives a harsh pinch making my whole body shudder and jerk, eyes flying open, whole body convulsing with an orgasm.

I cum a third time with Angelo as his empties himself inside me, holding me in place, taking in as much as of his euphoria as he can before pulling out of my heat with a pop.

I drop my body on the bed.

Completely wasted as Angelo lays beside me, both our breathing heavy and heart beat faster then the train.

Having time to  myself, I turn on my back and look at him, eyes barely agreeing to keep open as Angelo moves my messy hair out of my face.

Man, I’m tired today. I think.

I smile at him and pull the coverlet up to my chest curling up against him, the pillows uneven under our head.

Angelo turns massages my scalp rhythmically as I lay my head on his chest, drawing patterns.

Any sort of tension as if not mattering anymore.

All that exists is just him and me and our bed.

“I’m tightening security.” Angelo says after a while of silence.

“Oh?” I ask resting my chin on his chest. “All over?”

“Sí.” He agrees. “Alberto will be here twenty four seven, with and without my presence.”

Extreme .

But I don’t argue with him.

Because, I am not going to win.

“Okay.”

“Surely your unhinged friend shared her little theory with you and so I believe, tadpole you aren’t going to fight me about this.” He says, his hand still working on my hair.

“She’s smart, Angelo.” I say.

“If she came up came up with an idea that has you and Roman thinking about it, she is damn smart, darling .” I grin at him through the darkness of our bed room.

“Talking really big now, are we, baby?” Angelo asks, his voice dangerously low.

“Uh-huh.” I shake my head as he pushes me away, making me lay flat on the back hovering over me.

“Uh-huh?” He teases as one of his hand holds his weight the other separates my lips and slides his already hard girth into my heart.

“Goodness.” I moan arching my back up.

Angelo connects our lips, tongue caressing mine, as he trails wet soft kisses down my throat, to my chest as he slowly picks up his face, hitting me right where it aches for him the  most.

Angelo wakes me up fairly early in the morning so we can shower before he and the other men flies to Milan for the day.

When I ask why they’re leaving for Milan, he says something about the wedding and something, I don’t really get it all in my head because when Angelo helps me dry off from the warm shower, I am still sleepy.

He says there were cooks from the inn so I can go back to sleep and wake up at ten to go with the ladies and not sorry about breakfast.

“Bye bye.” I whispered against Angelo’s mouth, half asleep, naked on out bed while his hand roamed over my skin.

“I’ll see you before dinner, sí?” He says cradling my cheek on his palm.

“Yes.” I sigh kissing his lips again. “Fly safe.”

“I will.” He promises.

“You enjoy.” He adds. “And don’t worry, I’ve left my card on the drawer, the pin is saved on your phone, alright?”

I nod. “Go.”

He kisses me again and tells me to go to sleep.

I glanced at the time on my phone as soon as Angelo steps out of the bedroom.

Seven thirty.

I have two and half hours to get some sleep, I think unlocking the device.

There was again, missed calls.

From the same private number as before.

---

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

This is stupid- I am trying to wrote a chapter for Blaire and I really can’t.

I am too hooked on this book and yet no chapter I write makes sense to me.

I’m gonna go get some sleep and all that baloney.

Tell me how y’all feel with Ariel bonding with Alyssa.

And who is that private number?

What do you think of Blaire’s theory?

Is it Anne or somebody else?

Hehe

-November

23

Angelo said he’ll meet me before dinner, that night.

Dinner came and went.

Me and Alberto shared the pizza I made before I fed Coco and put him to bed.

Cleaning myself in the marble tiled bathroom, I thought what was keeping him for so long.

Milan was one and half hour flight.

That would be roughly three hours going and coming back given he left at seven thirty.

It was half past eleven o’clock as I laid in bed, dressed in a brand new chemise I bought, with the money l had left in my card.

I mean, I used rest of card money to pay for the assortment of curtains for the living room, bedroom and guestroom, strictly making sure they match the rest of the interior, some more throw pillows for the living room couch.

I spend a lot from the card, so I was officially broke.

With Alyssa being my wing man, poking at this and that at the decorative store.

She paid for a chandelier that hung proudly from the living room ceiling in spite of my protests and spend the day here while the men hung the curtains and the chandelier leaving just before dinner.

Coralyn and Blaire parted from us, after we were done with finalising the not so wedding but wedding dress.

After a lot of reluctance from our to be bride, she chose a fitted gown that flared slightly from the waist down with a train.

A small train because she isn’t feeling fancy and all that

Watching her biscuit Coralyn wept and then moved to a matching Veil.

Alyssa didn’t want a veil.

So we passed.

And so we came back to the house, our stomach stuffed with food truck food to an unhealthy amount.

Sighing I turned to face the empty side of the bed.

I dressed up in new lingerie. I think.

The rational part of my brain thinks he’s always late and maybe something came up.

Maybe they’re having some trouble with the suit fitting and all.

The irrational, petty part of me still questions where is he?

Why isn’t he here?

Why didn’t he show up before dinner like he said he would before putting me back to bed so lovingly.

I glanced at the reflective ceiling, thinking of thousand reasons why Angelo is so goddamn late.

I think I feel asleep after I heard the bedroom door click open.

I could never sleep with lights all the way out so I had them always dimmed so I could see through my very sleep stained eyes the silhouette of Angelo entering the room.

Reaching to the knob under the bedside table and turn the lights to bright.

“Hey.” I whisper, my voice coarse from the sleep as I sit up watching him close the door behind him.

“Hey.” The man gives me a lopsided smile, still sporting the ash blue two piece suit with a white shirt, that wore when he left in the morning.

I realise he smells overly sweet and and highly of smoked cannabis.

Pungent and mixed with his cologne.

Striding to my half laying form on the bed, supported by my elbow, Angelo places a kiss on my lips.

He tastes of whiskey and cannabis almost bitter.

“How were you today?” He asks against my lips.

“Good.” I smile. “How was your day?”

“Good.” He replies placing another kiss on my mouth.

Blinking the sleep away from my eyes, I smile at him.

“I could kill for some food.” Angelo sighs straightening himself.

“Pizza?” I ask getting down from bed, feet slipping into the house sandals grabbing the silk robe that came with burgundy chemise.

“Sure.” He says. “Let me- let me just shower, I’ll join you in the kitchen-”

“I’ll bring your plate up.” I say grinning and pecking his lips before walking out of the room.

I put two big slices of the olive, sausage and mozzarella pizza with basil that was for dinner, on a plate and put it in the oven, wait for it to ping ready.

Two and a half minute later the yellow light of the oven turns off, using the oven mitts I pull out the plate and put it on a wooden tray add a glass of water and a piece of semifreddo on a desert plate before carrying it up to the bedroom.

Placing the tray on the small table chair setting by the floor to ceiling window, I pick up the cloths that Angelo discarded on the floor.

I wish I didn’t though.

His shirt doesn’t smell like it does normally.

Like his cologne and the mixture of marijuana. The occasional pungent smell of treasurer cigarette.

There is a strong yet sweet smell lingering along with his.

With a strawberry undertone.

Awfully sweet.

Ignoring the extensively harsh sweet scent, I turn the shirt right way out to put it in the washer when I see it.

A red mark.

Just below the collar, over the right breast.

Sighing I bend to pick up the pants and the briefs, the shirt placed on top of the pile as I walk into the bathroom to put them on the wash basket.

With half a mind to set the shirt on fire.

Is this why he wasn’t here before dinner? I think, tracing my finger over the red lipstick mark on the shirt.

Did this made him late?

While I waited for him?

Angelo steps out of the shower, but he halts when he realises me standing by the wash sink.

“Ariel?” His voice soft.

Softer then it has ever been.

I turn to see his face, a towel wrapped around his waist, the other over his shoulder.

I place the suit on the separate basket for dry wash and turn on the tap to warm to wash the short by hand squirting hand soap on the material.

The redness doesn’t leave the white surface.

It just spreads.

No matter how much I scrub it between my hands, it just spreads.

“Baby.” He whispers.

At this point, I feet blind by the tears jamming my vision.

Angelo places his hands on my waist, our eyes meet in the circular back lit mirror on the wall.

My eyes teary, his guilty.

Looking away I put more soap and scrub harder, wanting this- this-

This fucking stain to leave the fabric.

A sound mixture of sob and choke leaves my mouth as grit my teeth turning up the temperate of the water so it burns my hand while I try to scrub the ink off the surface.

Fucking get off.

I feel his hands on mine as he takes the silken material off my hand, turning off the water.

I don’t know what to say.

Why am I like this?

Angelo gets a hand towel and uses it dry my seared palms with the softest touch.

“It’s not what you think.” He offered while turning the water in and turning the knob on cold placing both our hands under the concurrent stream of water.

I don’t offer him anything.

Not even a ‘tell me what I should think, Angel?’

But than again, I’ve always been the imperfect and stupid one, haven’t I?

“We had a party for Lorenzo.” He offers, rubbing his thumbs over my palms as the cold water sooth the almost scorched palm.

“It got wild, we ended up with dancers and drugs- its nothing baby.”

After Angelo is satisfied he turns the tap off and uses the towel to pat my palms dry.

“It’s nothing.” He reassures putting away the small towel and making me face him.

Stupidly the tears were still leaking out of my eyes.

Cupping my cheeks he makes me look up at his face.

“It was nothing, alright?” He asks.

Is he reassuring me or himself?

Nevertheless, I nod as he swipes his palm under my eyes.

“Come feed me.” He says gently. “Sí? I haven’t had dinner.”

We walk back into the room.

Angelo claims his seat on the chair before the plate, drinking a sip of water before taking his time to savour the meal before moving to desert.

All the while, I sit on the sofa like chair opposite to him, curled up, my head resting on the backrest.

Head repeating his words over and over again.

It was nothing, alright?

It was nothing, alright?

It was nothing, alright?

It was nothing, alright?

It was nothing, alright?

What ever it is, the irrational part of my brain thinks. It’s alright.

Whatever it is, it’s alright.

But it’s alright enough to leave a mark and get smudged but never leave-

“Baby?” His voice makes me jump slightly as I realize I had my eyes closed.

Angelo had finished the meal along with the somewhat ruined desert.

“Tadpole-” He begins.

But, I quickly collect the tray and leave the room, with a view to put the things into their places in the kitchen.

I wash the plates, put them in the strainer. Wash the glass, the desert spoon and wash them again-

All sorts of scenario plays through my head in a painful imagination.

It hurts.

Dancers aren’t a big deal.

I’m a dancer.

No kind of dancer is a big deal in a party.

Then why does it feel so so painful?

So

fucking painful in my chest.

I leave the plates on the strainer after their second time wash and slowly walk back to the bedroom, knowing Angelo was there.

Probably ready to say that it was nothing again

And that I was over reacting.

And that it wasn’t my place to react or over react.

Whatever Capo

Bestone

Giovanni has in his shirt shouldn’t bother me.

I shouldn’t cross any kind out boundaries but acting as if I

was-

I don’t dare to complete the sentence

“Ariel.” Angelo’s voice makes me steady on my feet.

He was quick to catch me just ad I was about to sway.

I didn’t realise, I was swaying.

Stupid Ariel.

“Baby.” He breathes, his face scrunched up in worry as he supports me with one hand around my waist.

I tell him I am fine and I can walk.

My voice low.

He helps me to the room, sits me in the bed.

Kneeling before me, he cradles my cheek on his palm.

“Okay?” He asks.

I nod.

Angelo pours me a glass of water from the pitcher resting on the bedside table.

He has changed into a grey pair of silk pajama bottoms, chest bare.

I drink a sip of the water.

“I presume a doctor’s visit is in order, tadpole.” He says gently.

“I’m fine.” I shake my head putting my feet up on the bed, getting ready to lay down.

“You’ve been feeling this way for a while, now-”

“What are you hinting?” I ask.

“That you’re not well-”

“I’m not fucking up again, Angelo.” I whisper.

“If that’s why you want to take me to a doctor.” I add.

“I’m not saying that-”

“I am fine.” I force, tears threatening to leave again.

“Fucking fine I am. Wonderful, even!”

“Okay.” He utters trying to gauge the direction of my reaction.

Facing away from him, I lay down on the bed.

I am faintly aware of Angelo walking to the bathroom and coming back, dimming the lights and getting on the bed.

Facing me, he pushes the hair off my face tucking the locks behind my ear.

“Baby?” He calls, I feel his other hand, taking my left one in his.

“Sweetheart?” He whispers.

“Open your eyes for me, baby.” He adds.

My lip wobbles.

Why do I feel so hurt and betrayed?

He said it was nothing, didn’t he.

Dancers get handsy sometimes.

How do you expect a women giving a man a sensual dance without arousing herself?

I aroused myself countless times before when I gave privates.

How can I blame him?

“This is not how I wanted tonight to turn out, tadpole.” He says softly.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper.

I feel him slide something in my middle finger.

A ring.

I low sob breaks out of my chest.

“Shh.” He whispers, pulling me close to his body and placing my head firm against his bare chest, cupping my head.

“Shush.”

I can’t-

“What is this?” I ask him in a whisper.

“Diamonds?”

“Sí.” He whisper.

“You’re making up for that with diamonds, Angelo?” I ask more hurt then I was a minutes ago.

“Buying me, are you?” I accuse pulling away from him and shimmying the ring off from my finger.

“This is a price?” I ask shoving the band at him. “Are you buying me?”

He’s silent at my outburst.

“Say something!” I yell, ugly tears stream down my face.

“This is not a price.” He says finally after moments of thick silence.

“I’m not buying you, Ariel.”

“Then why plaster me with diamonds?” I ask. “Why now?”

“Because I saw the god damn ring and thought of you, damn it!” He yells, sitting up.

“It is fucking illegal, isn’t it?” He shouted and threw the ring across the room.

“There.” He rasped. “Gone.”

He leaves the bed.

He leaves the room.

I lay there, tears silently streaming down my face.

Why can’t I help how I feel?

What do I feel after finding lipstick stain on his shirt  then a ring on my finger?

Bribe?

Reassurance?

Sorry?

Why am I like this?

I turn on the lights, wiping my face.

In the next fifteen minutes, I spend on my knees looking for the ring.

I don’t even know what it looked like.

Under the chairs, under the table.

The bed with the flashlight on my phone.

Fifteen minutes turn to twenty.

Thirty.

An hour.

Nowhere in the room, there is the glimmer of the diamonds.

With tears in my eyes, I still look for it, on every corner, desperate to find the band.

“Please.” I beg as run my palm along the floor hoping for the feel of it under my palm.

Nothing.

“Please. Please. Please.” I beg, wiping my tears roughly as I walk to the farthest corner of the room.

Getting on my knees looking for the band running my palms over the floor when finally I see it before the window.

I pick the ornament up, quickly as if it’ll be lost again, examining the delicate diamonds resting on the white gold band.

Several marquise shape diamonds make a leaf like pattern over the white gold till it forms a band around the finger.

It’s gorgeous.

Wiping my tears away from my face, I run out of the bedroom.

Angelo was in his office, the door not all the way closed, the glowing fluorescent lights from inside the room flowing into the dark corridor of the house.

Opening the door slightly, I find him on the phone, his eyes down as he spins the circular paper weight on the table top.

Making my way inside the well lot room, I stand beside him, as she thrones himself on the chair.

Looking up he, he whispers an “I’ll call you later” into the phone and tosses it roughly on the table.

I hand him the ring, silently putting my hand forward.

The one he slid the ring on, the first time.

“What do you expect of me?” He asks.

“You want me to put it on you once more ?” He adds.

I look down, my hand drops to my side.

I hear the clink of the ring being put down on the table.

“Doesn’t it feel like a bribe anymore, Ariel?” He asks.

“Don’t you feel like I am buying you, again?”

“Or did you love them too much to stop yourself from wanting it?” He hisses, pure venom dripping from his voice.

“Go to sleep.” He snaps.

“I’ve had enough of your bipolar disorder.” Adding it to his previous words, he turns himself to the computer.

Feeling embarrassed, despicable, cheap, I stand there for a while.

He doesn’t turn to me.

Or even acknowledges me standing there.

So I back off.

I want to go home.

“Would you tell Alberto that I want to go home?” I whisper to him like the shameless women I’ve turned into.

This time he turns to face me.

“What do you want, Ariel?” He asks harshly. “What the fuck, do you want?”

“I want to go home.” I say.

“This is home.” He says turning himself to face the computer again. “Go to bed.”

“How is this home?” I ask.

“How is this home when you come home with stains on your shirt and reassure me it’s nothing?” I whisper.

“How is it home when I feel your gifts are a bribe for me to stop crying?” I add.

“How is this a home when my apologies make me feel cheap? Like someone who loved them too much to stop herself from wanting them ?”

“How is it a home when you’ve had enough of me ?”

“I’ve spent an hour to look for it after you threw it.” I whisper.

“I don’t care if they’re diamonds or gold or road side pebbles. As long as it’s you bringing something for me, it’s more expensive than gold or diamond or the moon.”

“We don’t even understand each other, so it’s better for both isn’t it?” I ask.

“For me to leave?”

Angelo turns his face toward me, a small smile playing on his lips as he grabs my hand pulling me on his lap.

“There you are.” He says using his palms to wipe away my tears.

“There, baby.” He says when a fresh batch starts. “Shush.”

He slides the ring back on to my finger and examines how I sport it.

“No other hand would make this look as lovely as yours do, sweetheart.” He whispered.

“You got scared, didn’t you tadpole, hmm?” He asks caressing my cheek.

I place my face on the crook of his neck.

“Shush.” He hushes me again when I wrap my arms around his neck and cry.

“I’m sorry.”

“I am sorry baby.” He apologizes. “I should have waited.”

I nod.

“Should have waited till you felt better, sí?”

I nod into his neck again.

“It was a banter, I wanted a reaction but not the one you gave me?”

“Which one did you want?” I mumbling against his cool skin.

Let’s get under the covers, Angel.

“The yelling.” He says. “The cussing, the angry one.”

I nod.

“I am sorry I hurt you.” He says. “I am sorry my words hurt you.”

“I deserved it.” I say truthfully.

“The only thing you deserve darling, is the world.” He says.

---

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Forgive me for typos today and I is late. So sowey

-November

24

The next morning, Angelo treated me way to carefully.

Too much carefully .

I woke up late, feeling the weight of last nights tension and emotion on my head.

The man bought me cold juice along with breakfast in bed, while keeping his one arm around my shoulder and the other holding my left hand as I ate my food calmly.

I didn’t want to leave the bed even though I had plans for a morning work out.

Maybe do some yoga.

Practice ballet for a while.

But my plans were short lived when I felt the slight sway of my body as soon as I got down from the bed to go the bathroom.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Angelo and he helped me into the bathroom, left me to finish my business and walked me back to the circular bed and made breakfast while I watched Ice Age 3 on the cable TV.

So I ate the veggies and bread smeared with sweetened butter and jam, two boiled eggs and cold apple juice before pushing the tray away from me.

I rested my wobbly head against Angelo’s chest as he kept his hold on me while I watched the animation movie, laughing, giggling like a twelve year old.

Angelo remained stationery, our legs intertwined while I watched the scenes unfold before me even though I watched the animation more than ten times.

Last nights incidents almost out of my mind.

Almost .

I had discarded that shirt in the dustbin and pretended it didn’t exist .

“Tadpole?” He called during a advert break making me look up to him.

My cheeks hurt from laughing too much and I was having trouble breathing properly inhaling through my nose and exhaling through my mouth.

“Hmm?”

“I think we should see a doctor.”

His sentence makes me sigh.

And we’re back at it. Again.

I don’t want to see a doctor.

I don’t like seeing doctors and -

I’m not pregnant.

I know what my symptoms are and feeling light headed isn’t a symptom in my case.

My pregnancy symptoms were intense throwing up.

Throwing up till my guys and throat hurt.

If I was pregnant, I wouldn’t be able to keep a morsel of food inside my stomach.

I know that’s what he thinks.

He thinks I might be pregnant and all that.

But I am not.

“I don’t want to go see a doctor.” I say. “I am fine.”

“I am trying believe your I’m fines but it’s failing me, baby.” He says as the break timer gets to zero zero and I focus my attention back in the television.

“I’m booking an appointment.” He says with finality.

“I’m not going.” I say settling back on his chest again, the coverlet pulled up to my chest.

“You’re going, damn alright.” He says getting his phone.

“Why is it so hard for you to believe that I am fine, Angelo?” I ask looking at him while he scrolls through his phone and puts it against his ear.

“I’ll be needing an appointment for a medicine specialist before lunch.” He says to whoever is on the other side.

“Sí.” He answers. “Patient’s name is Ariel LaRusso, twenty one, female.”

Wow.

Way to talk to a doctor’s assistant.

“This isn’t how it works.” I tell him once he’s put the phone away.

“You ignoring your health, isn’t how it works either, tadpole.”

Realising that I lost, I focus my attention to the TV.

I missed Peach’s birth scene.

It makes me want to smack Angelo.

Just before lunch when I was almost asleep, Angelo gently woke me up telling me I’ve to get up and get ready for the doctor’s visit.

Sighing, I get up.

I don’t want to go to the doctor.

Period .

If he was so keen on finding out that if I am pregnant or not, he could’ve just bought some home test kits and get over with.

If I was pregnant, I’d be gaining weight not loosing them.

Even if my nausea was serious as fuck, I’d still be gaining a lot of weight.

Like before.

But I was glad that I lost some weight that I put on the year behind.

My curves felt defined.

I got dressed in a summer dress with ties on the shoulder, the material falling above my knee by a good some inches.

Angelo, dressed himself in a black shirt and black slacks before we left the house and drive to the hospital nearby.

I stayed silent because I really don’t want to go and see a doctor.

He stayed silent for whatever the reason he wants to stay silent.

I am not aware of whatever scenario is playing though his head, but his impassive expression doesn’t give me a clue either.

I really hope the test doesn’t turn out positive.

I pray it doesn’t turn out positive.

The last thing I need is another accusation of killing my child.

Another heartbreak.

The doctor sees me immediately.

A handsome man, dressed in baby blue shirt and grey pinstripe pants as he tells me to take a seat before him on the small examination room.

“What can I do for you, Miss LaRusso?” He asks me in his gentle American accent.

I’m not sure what you can help me with either, doctor. I think mentally before sighing.

Angelo decided to sit patiently beside me, eyeing the doctor, impassively.

I want to tell him that it’s his job and he’s being professional, but Angelo’s glare doesn’t fade from his face.

“I- uh,  I’ve been feeling light headed for some days.” I say.

“That’s about all.”

The handsome man behind the desk chuckled.

“Miss LaRusso, lightheadedness maybe cause by a lot of thing, maybe if you would explain to me?”

I shrug.

What am I supposed to explain?

Like that’s all I’ve been feeling.

A little dizzy.

“I suppose I’ve been feeling tired and light headed- but that’s about it-”

“These are very common symptoms of almost every issue, we’ll go through a simple blood count test, if you don’t mind.”

I shake my head.

“And uh-” I frown with a sigh. “I’d like a pregnancy test as well.”

“Of course.” The man smiled at me and asked some questions to which I answered in a negative.

Scribbling down the name of the text he pulled out a packaged butterfly needle and tube and two vials to take sample of my blood.

We were told to wait in the waiting room while the samples were getting tested.

Angelo sat silent beside me, in the empty room.

“What if the tests come in positive?” I whisper tentatively looking at my feet.

Paranoid and scared to a point where I feel like I will stop breathing if he stays silent for another while.

“Then it does.” Angelo replies looking up at me.

His face was shadowed with worry as well.

I could tell he wasn’t ready to hear that the tests came out positive.

Neither am I.

It would push us apart again.

I am pretty sure it will push us apart, to a point of no return.

“I don’t want it to.” I whisper.

Angelo wraps an arm around mg shoulder and rubs my arm gently.

“It’s okay.” He reassures.

I know he doesn’t want it to come out positive either.

Almost half an hour later of waiting, and being paranoid, having a mental breakdown internally, a nurse dressed in white informs us that the doctor is ready for us again.

“Well Miss LaRusso.” The man took his seat behind the desk on a brown leather chair.

“Firstly, I’m sorry Miss LaRusso, you’re not, in fact pregnant.” He says gently.

I nod mustering a small smile for him.

Internally, I feel somewhat relived ad well as I feel sad.

I don’t know why I feel sad because I shouldn’t.

It’s good that I am not pregnant.

A baby wouldn’t help us right now.

Or maybe of would? A part of me thinks.

I immediately shake the thought out of my head.

No.

Angelo reaches for my hand under the table giving it a squeeze as he wraps his other around my shoulder feeling shift in my composure.

“And- the other test says you have iron deficiency anemia.”

I looked at the doctor whose tone was sympathetic and soft.

“This your feeling of light headedness and fatigue. You may have had other symptoms but might have ignored them or they were subtle enough to get ignored.”

I nod.

“I’ll prescribe you some iron supplements.” He says getting a transparent file and putting my reports and receipt for the reports and a prescription that he scribbled.

“Thank you.” I offer the man a smile.

“You’re very much welcome, however I’d personally suggest you  get a step up on your diet, lots of rest and sleep, if you will.”

I nod.

“After two months of your supplementary course we’ll set up another appointment, yes?”

“Sure.” I smiled getting up understanding my queue as Angelo helps me.

“Thank you, doctor.” I offer while the man gestures the pair of us with a nod.

Angelo helps me into the car, hands Alberto the prescription to get the medicine before slipping into the driving seat before starting the engine.

“Are you alright?” Angelo asks.

“Hmm.” I say resting my elbow against the window, my head on my palm, staring at the report.

Blood pregnancy result: Negative.

Negative.

Negative.

“Baby-” He sighs taking the transparent file from my hand.

I let him take it, looking out through the window.

I don’t understand.

What is wrong with me? I think.

“Do you want you want to get some lunch from the inn?” He asks gently.

“I don’t want to eat.” I say.

“Not going to work, tadpole.” He says.

“Food isn’t negotiable anymore.” He adds

“Whatever.” I say leaning my head against the headrest of the seat and sigh.

Tears prickling my eyes as I close them tightly not wanting them to escape.

Why does it matter so much? I think.

We lost our first one.

Another one would break us apart.

It would break me apart.

Even if everything turned out okay, it’ll still push us away.

Angelo wasn’t ready for a baby.

I’m not sure even if he wanted a baby.

I do however.

I want one.

A little thing running around the house causing havoc.

Yelling, playing, crying and everything in between.

The tears leak my eyes, dropping on my cheek as I quickly swipe or away from my cheek.

Sniffing, I sit up straight wiping any trace of tears from my face.

The only thing that’s wrong with me is I imagine too much.

I dream too much.

I expect too much.

High imagination and expectations have always put me down.

It was  known fact in my life.

Angelo sighs while he drives, taking the other route from the house.

The car smoothly halts in front of the inn, Bertie’s car close behind us.

Angelo helps me out.

The abrupt halt of motion makes my head spin slightly as I lean against his arm catching my breath.

“Alright?” He asks.

I nod slightly as he helps me inside to a table.

Much to my surprise Alyssa and Lorenzo was sitting to the assigned table.

Both talking in a hushed tone, the man holding Alyssa’s hand so lovingly.

“Mama.” Angelo greets.

“Hi, bub.” The women smiles at Angelo while much to my  reluctance he helps me to a chair.

“Good afternoon, Sir.” I offer Lorenzo a smile. “Good afternoon, Alyssa.”

The man acknowledges me with a gentle nod.

“Good afternoon, love.” Alyssa places a hand on my shoulder turning my face to hers as I sat beside her.

“You look pale.” She states. “What’s up?”

I shake my head.

“Slightly unwell.” I say.

“Was it the truck food?” She asks tentatively. “I’ve been feeling queasy, too.”

“We went to a doctor.” Angelo volunteers. “She has iron deficiency anemia.”

Alyssa frowns.

I sigh.

“No biggie.” Alyssa waves Angelo’s serious tone off.

“We’ll eat and take meds and get better, huh?” She asks me.

I nod.

“Good.” He pats my shoulder.

“We’re going to eat. A lot.” She adds

I feel better with Alyssa’s positive energy as Lorenzo orders for us.

A separate serving of beef roast with mushrooms for me which he says is going to help me.

“Do you feel tired?” Alyssa asks concerned as she pours water on my glass for me.

“Not much, really.” I reply taking a sip of water from the goblet.

“Just light headed, that’s all. Sometimes mild headaches but they pass.” I add.

“That’s good.” The older women nods. “What did the doctor say?”

I shrug. “Told me to get my diet a step on, lots of food and rest and sleep.”

She nods understanding as minutes later our food arrives.

They’ve all ordered tortellini pasta with a bread salad on the side.

Mine had an addition of beef roast dish.

How am I supposed to stomach all this?

I start with the beef.

The beef roast is delicious and the side Greek salad is even more delicious.

Finally I call quits pushing the plate of untouched pasta away and taking a sip of my water.

The waitress collects pur plate only to return shortly with square shaped tiramisu cake, serving size, as desert.

Not sure if I can eat another bite.

Alyssa glances on her phone, a string of texts and sighs turning to me.

“How do you feel about clubbing, sweetheart?” She asks.

“Hmm?”

“Do you feel well enough to go to a club?” She asks.

“I am not exactly too sick.” I say with a shrug. “I can go dancing.”

Aware of Angelo staring at me

“Blaire’s been on my toe all day.” She complains. “She says she can’t reach you.”

“I left my phone at the house.” I say.

“Alright.” She says.

“I’m telling the mad woman that you’re alive and no shark’s ate you , where does she come up with these?” She adds.

Her comment makes me smile.

I catch Angelo’s eye from across the table, seated parallel to me.

He looks at me, tentatively trying to gauge me.

After our dual lunch, Alyssa says she’ll pick me up at seven thirty.

We’ll have early dinner and then go clubbing because according to Blaire,  Alyssa quoted and I quote back,

“I don’t care. We’re going party, Roman can kiss my ass.”

I’m not sure she minds the man kissing her ass but whatever rotates her wheels alright?

I have to take three tablets twice a day.

One iron shot, one folic acid and one multi vitamin.

As I sit before Angelo, he sorts out the meds for me and gives me one red and two white tablets handing me a glass of ice cold water.

I swallow them, the iron pill leaves a foul taste in my mouth.

Pulling a sour face almost on the verge of throwing up, I hand Angelo back the glass of water.

He puts the container of the medicine on the bedside table drawer, and puts away the extra unopened container before joining me on the bed.

I lay my head, against his chest feeling his heart beat under my cheek, both of us silent.

“Don’t you feel alright, baby?” He asks gently massaging my head.

“I’m fine.” I whisper out.

Not really .

“Maybe see if you can sleep?” He asks. “It might help you feel better. Relaxed?”

I nod absent mindedly.

I know he’s only trying to make me feel better.

Help me.

And I won’t lie, it feels nice having someone to take care of you.

Someone willing to take care of you.

But-

But, I don’t know.

I shouldn’t feel this way.

I am least worried about the red blood cell deficiency in my body.

I’ve always had low haemoglobin count.

But as the doctor said, food and medicine would cure it.

It’s not a big deal.

And it’s not even in the list of things that I am worried about.

I sigh against Angelo’s chest, he has my ringed hand in his gentle hold.

I haven’t took it off, since he slid it on, last night.

I look at the delicately arranged diamonds, resting elegantly on my middle finger.

My nails are disgusting to look at. I think.

“What’s wrong tadpole?” Angelo asks as I untangle myself from him, getting down from the bed.

I need something to busy my mind with or I’ll start crying .

I get my make up bag and dig through numerous container to get the bottle of nail varnish remover and a bottle of pale pink nail paint and pad over to the bed with a towel.

“I’m going to paint my nails.” I tell Angelo.

He was now sitting straight looking at me weirdly as I put my supplies on top of the spread towel and used the cotton balls to clean my nails.

Once I was satisfied with the look of nails, I uncapped the bottle and started to paint from the thumb of my right finger.

“Ariel?” Angelo asked pushing the hair over my other shoulder so he has a clear look on my face.

“Hmm?” I said concentrating on my handiwork.

Concentrating too much.

“Baby, talk to me.” He begged.

I pretended as if I didn’t listen and kept on working on the third finger.

“Ariel, please-” He whispered. “You are freighting me.”

I chuckle at the choice of his words.

“I’m the last person anyone would or should be scared of.”

“Baby, what’s wrong?” He asked again.

“Tadpole.”

“I told you not to take me to a doctor.” I whispered finally, my hands starting to shake slightly.

I gripped the cap of the nail polish tighter.

“I told you I was fine, didn’t I?” I asked, tears pricking my eyes.

“Ariel-”

“You needn’t get me through a heart break again.” I whisper.

“It hurts me.” I add with mumble.

“Sweetheart-”

“I don’t want to cry and vent anymore.” My lower lip wobbles.

“I’m so tired of crying and venting and blaming for what happens with me, I don’t want to anymore.”

He makes me release the grip on the nail paint cap and puts it inside the bottle before pulling me to him.

I rest my head against his cheat because at this point I feel like he’s all I have.

“I don’t want to be alone anymore.” I whisper.

“What ever you want, I’ll make it happen, baby.” He reassures.

“Whatever you want.”

“You promise?” I ask cradling his face in my palms looking into his eyes.

“I promise, baby.” He says. “I promise.”

“Us?” I ask.

He places his lips on mine, softly, gently and so lovingly.

“Yes, sweetheart.” He whispers against my lips.

I sniff placing my head back on his chest.

“I don’t know why I feel this way, Angel.” I mutter.

“I’m alright but not really. Sometimes I’m really happy, sometimes I just want to cry-”

“We were okay, before last night, weren’t we?” He asks massaging my hair gently.

I nod.

“And before the doctor’s visit?”

I nod.

“Then we’ll be back like that, okay?” He asks.

I nod. “Okay.”

“Would you try for me, baby?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” He sighs.

“Would you try, too, Angel?” I ask looking up at his eyes.

“That’s all I’ll ever do for you, tadpole.”

It makes me smile.

“I really have to paint my nails.” I say after moments of silence between us.

The comfortable kind.

Angelo lets me go back to paint my nails.

I do them quickly this time, blow on them to dry them before claiming my place back in his arms, legs thrown over his, head on his chest.

Angelo examines my left hand rubbing his thumb over the diamond band.

“It comes with a necklace too.” He says.

I frown.

“It’s in your dressing table drawer, in a white box.” He says placing a kiss on my head.

My phone rings making me sigh.

Angelo reaches for it and a sigh leaves him as he hands me the device.

“Why hello, little mermaid.” Blaire’s voice drifts through the speaker.

She has golden eye mask under her eyes.

I crinkle my nose at her analogy.

“I thought Ursula gobbled you the fuck up.” She says. “Anyway-”

“We are going party?” I complete her sentence.

“Yes.” She looks sad she didn’t get to day her line. “Wear white.”

“Why?” I ask chuckling.

“Cause you look sexy as a cheesecake in white-”

“Cheesecakes aren’t sexy-”

“Cheesecake looks like your butt. Fluffy and jiggly” She says aggressively eating a cracker.

---

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

HI, so I am back again with another chapter and all that baloney. Smh.

Okay, I’ll be honest, I feel as if this book has turned out to something that you’d like to call “

this bitch doesn’t have anything to do so she writes crap

“

It doesn’t even make any sense to me at this point. Lol.

But I am still writing cause I am shameless😂

Also this chapter feels rushed. And it sucks too.

But yeah, happy reading and all that baloney ~

Thanks for listening to my rubbish and reading my rubbish.

PS; I’ve written Blaire’s chapter over and over again and felt like shit so- hopefully we’ll have time jump (a tiny one) tomorrow night.

-November.

25

It was extremely and exceedingly infuriating how Angelo was on my tail.

All day .

After my phone call with Blaire, I slept for a while only to be woken up by the man saying I needed something to eat.

Fine .

Groggy and sleepy, I digested the soup, he insisted on spoon feeding me.

It was a small serving so I’d let it slide given that I was hungry around three pm due to our early lunch.

But as I sit with a bowl of two meatballs, the size of my fist, drenched in thick tomato curry, I feel he is paranoid.

Paranoid .

There is only so much I can eat!

“I don’t want this.” I say pushing the bowl away from me, hoping the argument would end right there.

It doesn’t.

Angelo pushes it back toward me with a look in his face that makes me squirm.

“Eat.” He orders. “At least the half of it.”

I’m not a fan if beef, honestly.

I love other meat, like lamb.

I love lamb.

Beef- not so much.

Picking up the fork, I take a small bite of the meatball curry along with warm bread rolls.

Angelo keeps an eye on me through out the meal as I stomach one whole of the meet ball and one mini bread roll, before pushing the bowl away from me.

“There.” I said. “I don’t want more.”

Understanding, he takes the bowl and puts the thing in to the fridge before helping me up.

I have no idea why does he feel like helping me getting up and sitting down.

Or feels the necessity to feed me and treat me like glass ever since the test reports came in some hours earlier.

It’s cute at times.

At times it just feels too much.

Like right now as he insists on keeping one hand around my shoulder walking me toward the stairs and into the bedroom.

“You didn’t feel the head spins as much did you?”

I did.

Every time, I got up abruptly or turned abruptly or anything.

I shake my head as walks me to the bed, helping me sit down on the edge of it.

“Are you tired, do you feel tired?” He asks concerned kneeling in front of me, his palms on my knees, looking for any subtle signs of discomfort.

“No.” I reply shaking my head. “I don’t feel tired or lazy or spinny headed or headaches or weak or anything.”

He looks concerned.

His dark orbs, softened at the glance.

“For real, Angelo.” I say taking his hands.

“I am fine. Just a little stuff happens when I stand too fast and all but everything is okay, I am fine.” I add, earnestly.

The amount of worry and concern this man is feeling for me, tugs at my heart strings.

I look at the time.

Five thirty.

“Are you sure, tadpole?” He asks cradling my cheek on his palm.

“I am sure.” I say. “It’s normal. It’ll go away once I have had enough meds in my body.”

He still looks troubled.

And still reluctant to the idea of me going to see Blaire, Alyssa and Coralyn for an early dinner and then to the club.

I get he’s worried. And tensed .

And he feels the need to look after me, every ten seconds.

I get it but- it’s nothing really serious.

As I said before, I’ve had low haemoglobin count since forever and that resulted in this.

Two month with iron supplements and I’ll be fine again.

“The more you say, I am fine , the more tensed I get.” He says with a a shake of his head making me leave his hand that I was holding in both of mine and wrap them around his neck.

“You worry too much.” I say.

He plants his hands on either side of my waist.

“I worry too much, for you, tadpole.”

Pecking his lips gently I rest my head against his shoulder.

Him kneeling on the floor, me sitting before him on the edge of the bed we share.

“Stop worrying.” I whisper.

He chuckles.

“Don’t you have to get ready?”

I hum, my eyes closed still basking in his warmth, inhaling the faded scent of his cologne.

Now he just smells like the cedarwood body soap he uses while showering.

I love it.

“Let’s stay like this for a while longer.” I whisper.

Angelo hums deep in his throat.

The sounds drops on my stomach, rattling like a penny.

My hands trail down his hard chest, from his neck, feeling the hard, bunched up muscles underneath my palms.

“I see what you’re doing.” Angelo chuckles.

“Shush, Angel.” I grin against his shoulder.

“You want to be in charge, baby?” He asks teasingly.

I raise my head from his shoulder connecting our lips in a slow dance as my hands slowly feel up his muscles going lower, feeling the warm feeling under my palm.

His already hardened crotch as my palm rests on the fly of his slacks.

I feel the change in Angelo’s breathing pattern he he pushes himself forward making me slid over the satin sheets of the circular bed.

One of his knee placed between my thighs, keeping them apart, right hand cradling my head so he has access to my mouth without any barrier and left hand, roams all over my skin.

Igniting my cold skin on fire.

It burns me slowly from within.

With carnal need and want.

“Angelo!” I breathe when we both come up for air, his mouth moves toward the side of my neck, leaving soft kisses as he uses his hand to untie the straps around my shoulder that keeps my dress in place.

The air hits my naked chest as he pulls the cotton material away from my skin.

“You’re gorgeous.” He whispers.

It makes me smile.

His breathes comes out in ragged puffs as with a gentle push on my shoulder, I lay back on the bed.

Angelo pulls the dress off completely from my body, sliding it down my hips along with the pair of lace that hid my shame.

I lay on the bad, completely bare. To his display.

Angelo is quick to rid of the cloths he was wearing before covering me with his body.

Our mouth connects in a sensual dance.

Tongues massaging each others, my hands around his neck, as he mouth moves from my lips, trailing down.

Down to my neck, my chest, the valley between my breasts, tongue massaging my engorged taut nipples making me moan out loud, legs squeezing together, arms tightening around his neck.

His mouth slowly leaving wet kisses down my ribs, my stomach before nudging my legs open and burring his face into my already soaking heat.

My hands tangle around his hair, pulling in them, pushing him in to more and pulling him away for some precocious friction as he massages my folds with his tongue.

Mouth open in a silent moan, my eyes roll back as he pokes my entrance with his warm tongue.

“Fuck-” I curse out as Angelo retrieves his tongue from my heat.

His body slides up on mine before connecting our lips all over again.

“Angelo.” I breathe when he pulls away gasping for breath, his head on my shoulder as his girth lines with my entrance.

“Tadpole?” He questions.

“Nothing.” I sigh loosing the grip I had on the bedsheets, almost in the verge of my orgasm as I wrap them around his broad shoulders.

Angelo abruptly pushes himself in.

A gasp leaves my mouth, eyes fluttering close from the sudden feel of fullness.

“Angelo!” I sigh as he gathers me in his arms, pulling me closer to his body before he gains his pace.

Slow and achingly steady.

“Oh, Baby.” He groans as he hits my sweet spot with each push of his, feeling me up and leaving me empty at the same time.

“Fuck baby!” Cussing out, Angelo picks up a fast pace. Mean and ruthless.

My eyes closed, arms around his neck, feeling him move inside me.

Giving him all that he wants.

Taking all that I want from him.

I feel him swell inside me, the numbing around the lower part of my waist starts as the ever present knot on my stomach tightens and I slowly feel him bringing me close to my climax.

“Angelo-” I sigh, seeing stars, golden and silver through the darkness of my eyes.

“Cum for me, baby?” He gently urges as he approaches his peak with me.

I cum down from the high with a moan as my body convulses and twitches in his hold before Angelo empties himself inside me with a groan.

His mouth latching onto the swell of my breast, muting the sounds of the moan that leaves his mouth.

After regaining our breathing, I insist Angelo to run a warm bath for me, while I look at my wardrobe option.

White.

I don’t really have anything to go clubbing on, in white.

Not exactly.

The only dress, even if you can call it that, is a little striper-y.

More than slightly indecent to go clubbing with older women.

I mean-

It’s not like Alyssa and Coralyn are judgemental or too conservative.

They’re quite the opposite actually.

So I put on some confident and pull out the dress-

Somewhat of a dress from the back of the closet.

I wore this once, probably on my twentieth birthday, while I stayed home and ate ice cream directly from the tub watching trashy TV.

Nevertheless glammed up on my couch.

Shaking my head, I choose a pair of white lace from yesterday’s purchase and laid them on the circular Ottoman in the walk in closest.

Shoes.

I don’t have shoes to match, because staying home didn’t require shoes.

I pair up my nude pair of heels with them and grimace.

Yeah.

Not like it’s a fashion show.

I just have to look like a cheesecake, right?

White and slightly brown at the top.

How hard can it be?

I have the strange urge to call Blaire and tell her to put up an outfit that makes her perfect body look like it was a perfect strawberry and then watch her in misery.

She’ll probably be able to do that given that the woman surely loves a challenge.

I think mentally as I step into the bath that Angelo prepared for me, the citrus-y smell of orange drifts through the air, as I lower myself into the bubbling water.

I don’t have the time to take relaxing bubble bath given that it was already something past six and Alyssa said she’ll pick me up at seven thirty.

I do have time, don’t I?

I think as I wet my pink loofah sponge into the water and begin scrubbing myself.

If I really hurry my minimal make up and all that- I think.

Maybe I’ll relax in the bath for a while.

The shower stops after awhile.

Angelo walks out, sitting himself down on the edge of the bathtub.

“Hey.” He smiles grabbing the pitcher and using it to water the part of my body that was above water.

Hands folded over the edge head resting on the fold of my arms.

“Hi.” I smile up at him. “Are you wanted somewhere?”

He nods. “Shipment issues.”

I nod.

“Have to accompany Lorenzo to some thing he wants to purchase.” He grimaces making me giggle.

“What is he purchasing?” I ask with a hum as Angelo massages my shoulder with his calloused finger.

“Diamonds, I think.” He says. “Some stuff for mama, we’re looking at cards for the wedding later, they have a guest list drafted-”

“I thought it was going to be a small one-” I say.

“Yeah.” Angelo rolls his eye. “Have you put my mother and Mama Cora in the same room?”

I giggle.

“The guest list went from fifty to one fifty, plus one. We’re expecting somewhat of a three hundred guests.”

“I suppose it’ll be huge.” I moan from him working on my shoulder.

Jesus, it feels so good.

“I suppose.” He says.

“Are the arrangements possible in the time we have?” I ask.

“To be honest-” He sighs. “I have no idea, tadpole.”

His anxiousness makes me smile.

“Are you excited?” I ask.

His fingers halt against my shoulder abruptly.

“I am.” He says. “I get to have a dad at almost twenty nine year old, I’d say I am reasonably thrilled.”

“That’d be lovely.” I hum.

“I suppose.” He sighs. “Lovely.”

“I’m glad you feel that way about Lorenzo.” I say. “I suppose he’s happy too?”

“Yes.” He nods.

“Presumably, he is happy about it, maybe not.” Angelo adds.

“I’m not his blood but he’s never treated me any different.” He says the obvious adoration and respect for the man evident in his voice.

“He was there from the diaper changes to scratched knees, dislocated shoulder to busted knuckles. Bloody shirt and and bloody hands- he’s never treated me any different.”

I place an encouraging palm on his hand.

“I’m sure he’s proud of the boy he raised, sí?” I ask.

Angelo flushes?

Or so I think.

But he recovers as soon as he let’s the guard down.

“I wouldn’t know.” He shrugs.

“Maybe. I’ve never let him down in my power or so I think but I am damn proud to call that man my papa.”

Getting up from my bath, I place a kiss on his lips.

“I’m sure he’s proud of you, Angel.” I whisper against his mouth.

He shakes his head chuckling and helps me get down from the tub, handing me a towel to dry off.

I meet him in the closet, as he picks out an outfit for his errand.

Drying off, I sit on the dressing table chair, to set my hair.

I really don’t have time for fancy, right now!

Grabbing the curling rod, I give the ends a rough touch and brush my hair to fluff them up so they rests nicely on my shoulders.

Good .

My once pink all nice and ombre hair was now a little bit longer showing the black out growth from my scalp.

Ugly.

I think as I try my best to ignore the bad state of my now done hair before moving to my face.

I hurry up glancing at the time on my phone.

Seven ten.

Jesus.

Quickly I put my eye liner and mascara on, waiting for them to dry and not mess me up last minute before dropping the towel and moving toward the ottoman where I’ve placed my dress.

Great.

How am I going to squeeze into this scrap?

It wasn’t that hard. I think, once I’ve successfully placed the straps over my shoulder and took a look at me.

Nice.

Adjusting my boobs into the built in padded cups of the dress, I stood before the full length mirror zipping the dress up from the side.

I’ll burst.

I think as I finally close the top hook to keep the zipper in place, placing my tits on the right place over again.

The dress had a corset like top pushing my bust up alluringly and tight around my stomach and hips stopping inches above my thigh with thin straps.

Remember what I said?

Striper-y. Point blank.

Angelo entered the closet again fixing the cufflinks on his black silken shirt.

His actions paused for several seconds as I examined myself, running a palm over my bottom, my sides-

Trying to figure out how to make myself look decent.

And less slutty.

I don’t have a problem dressing up a little slutty.

Every girl needs to let it out, once a while, right?

Right?

I could change and say I had a last minute wardrobe dysfunction.

I looked good, I won’t lie.

I looked great .

The dress hugged my curves, emphasized my breasts, brought out my brown eyes, the flush on my full cheeks.

It’s been a while, I’ve felt so-

Sexy. Desirable.

Confident .

“Should I change?” I ask still looking at the Ariel stares back at me from the reflection of the mirror.

She looks good.

She looks like she did when she had her life in her fists .

“Why?” He asks, his voice throaty.

“It’s compromising.” I say checking the side with the shoes on, hoping the chain don’t pop.

I hope the fucking chain doesn’t pop.

“The dress?” He asks padding toward me to stand directly behind me.

“Sí.”

“You look like before.” He says.

“What do you mean?” I ask turning my face to look at him.

“You look-” He shakes his head slightly.

“You look like the first night I saw you. Fierce. Confident. Demanding, sexy-” His hands trail down from my sides to my hips.

“Like you can have any man on his knees for you.” He adds.

Shaking my head, I look the pair of us, in the mirror.

He looks good.

“Don’t change.” He whispers leaning down to whisper against my ear, his minty breath fanning my cheeks.

It makes my insides squirm with need.

Playfully I push him away, unable to help the blush creeping up to my cheeks as I walk back to the dressing table to put on a shade of lipstick.

Angelo once again, stands behind me, spraying his cologne, selecting a watch, a pocket square and whatever else he needs.

I quickly swap the matte red shade across my lips, leaning back to examine how I look.

Impressive .

I move slightly when Angelo pulls the drawer that holds whatever jewelry I have as my possession before retrieving a white velvety box and closing the drawer.

The box holds a choker like necklace, identical to the ring on my finger, that I was still to take off and put safely.

I don’t trust my self with expensive things.

“Sit.” He places a hand on my shoulder to make me sit straight.

The necklace is cold against my neck, but it slides effortlessly to its place before he clasps it on the back, putting my hair in place.

“Now, you’re perfect.”

Our eyes meet in the mirror.

It’s peculiar how a piece of jewelry changes a person’s whole appearance.

Or maybe it’s just Angelo who does it.

I’m pretty sure if I placed the strand of marquise shaped diamonds around my neck, I wouldn’t look like I hold so much power in me.

Like I was special.

“This is gorgeous.” I whisper swallowing the lump clogged on my throat.

“You’re gorgeous-”

“Boss?” We hear. Alberto .

It breaks whatever the spell we were into and makes us both look at the man who had Coco by a leash.

“Miss Giovanni is here, she’s asking for Ariel to join her.”

After Bertie leaves with Coco, who acts like he doesn’t know me at all and holds up his head high while he walks beside the large man.

Shaking my head, I get up from the sitting position and straighten my dress.

Angelo brushes the hair off my face, his knuckles gently rubbing my cheek.

“I’ll pick you up, sí?” He asks.

I nod. “Okay.”

He gives me a kiss on the corner of my mouth not wanting to mess with my lipstick.

“When do you leave?” I ask grabbing my clutch shoving lipstick, some cash and my phone into the sparking little box.

“Right after you do, baby.” He says making me pout.

“Did you take my cook book?!” I get accused as soon as I slip into the five seater BMW.

What ?

I frown at the petite women’s acquisition.

“No.” I shake my head. “Why?” I ask getting comfortable.

Coralyn was seated beside me, sandwiched between me and Alyssa.

Blaire was seated at the front.

I patted her shoulder as a greeting.

“Hi, bub.” She grinned at me. “You look bangable.”

“You look good, yourself-”

“I can’t find my cook book!” Coralyn whines, in a complaining tone.

“I don’t have it.” I day truthfully.

“Sorry. Don’t you remember where you kept it?”

“It’s always in the kitchen, I dunno-”

The rest of the drive to the new restaurant is filled with bickering and laughs.

Through the window I see three range Rovers behind us and three in front of us, guiding us to our destination.

“How’s you, Ariel?” Coralyn asks abruptly. “I heard you went to the doctor-”

I nod and then Blaire pipes up about the same and rest of the time I ensure that I was actually fine.

“It’s okay.” Coralyn pats my head. “I’ll make you a jiggly pudding.”

I smile at her gesture giving her a tight squeeze.

---

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

So…. I’m back to annoy y’all. Again.

I won’t take much time but I’ll say that it rained today and it’s cold.

I cried to mum to get me my fur blanket and I am under the heavyweight blanket hehe. I have a runny nose and all that but it’s okay.

Thank you for reading my rubbish!

Ooh ooh! Leeme knu if you hate this chapter. Heh.

-November

26

“He’s staring.” Blaire muttered as a matter of fact as the four of us concentrated on our desert after the meal.

We had stake. With salad and bread and cheese.

“He’s not.” I shake my head.

Blaire craned her neck to see if the man across from our table was still ‘staring’ or not.

Coralyn mirrored Blaire’s action, herself dressed in a silver slip dress, that empathised her assets rather nicely.

“He’s definitely staring~” Coralyn singsonged.

“Don’t look!” Alyssa whispered yelled at the pair of them.

Exactly my point!

“Shush, biscuit.” Coralyn waved her off, her cheeks flushed from the laughing we did through the evening.

“Goodness!” I sighed at the pair.

“Don’t look, it’s creepy .” I add, almost exasperated.

“Hush!” Blaire waved for me shut up.

“He’s good looking and he wants to fuck you, totally- from behind.”

One. That’s totally disgusting and irrelevant .

Two. I’m not looking at somebody who wants to fuck me- from behind. For my life’s sake and his.

“Yes, totally.” Coralyn giggled turning and sitting straight on the booth.

Aren’t they supposed to be~

Yeah- that.

“Go give him a ramp walk.” Blaire suggests tapping her spoon on the serving sized cheese cake, making it jiggle.

I shake my head.

This dress was a bad idea.

Period .

“He wants to see your butt .” Coralyn mused with a giggle.

“No-” I say. “I’m not showing nobody my butt and I am not going to give him a ramp walk-”

“But he’s looking at you-” Coralyn whined with a pout. “He has got the look !”

“The look ?” Alyssa raised and eyebrow.

“The look, biscuit.” She emphasised. “The look!”

I shake my head again.

“That man is definitely staring at you.” I say to Coralyn who gives me a naughty smirk and flashes the huge diamond ring sitting proudly on her finger.

Jesus .

“I love being married !” She squeals.

“Bully.” I muttered going back to the cheese cake earning a giggle for her.

“Let’s not point out who’s staring at who.” Alyssa says.

“And finish this and we wherever we should.”

“The club.” Blaire pipes up. “We go party.”

And to the club we went.

We were greeted by Ricardo, who introduced himself to us as the security head of the club and walked us inside.

Heels clicking into the pavement finally stepped into the exhilarating premise of the club.

The sounds and body dancing about made the temperature raise by several degrees as we walked toward the back, though the stairs into the VIP deck.

A soundproof glass wall was put up so the interior of the place was quiet.

The usual black couches were tonight white with a slight hint of girls night out theme.

“Thank you, Ricardo.” Coralyn smiled at the man. “You are so kind, to put the glass up.”

“You’re welcome Donna Coralyn.” The man gently bowed as Coralyn took a seat on a circular club chair.

Followed by Alyssa who sat beside her best friend.

“I’ll leave you ladies to it, and find somebody to tend to your orders.” Ricardo said before slightly bowing and leaving us to our outing.

Blaire sat on a couch, crossing her legs over the other, her emerald dress hugging her womanly features, shoes red bottomed.

I studied her nervous yet somewhat confident demeanor as I sat beside and shook out my hair, fixing them as much as possible from the dim reflexion of the glass wall.

Mess . Is what I’d describe myself as.

My boobs were hurting, the fucking scrap corset was tight against my tummy forcing it inside.

Need to loose weight.

asap.

“Are you okay?” I whispered to Blaire who was almost chipping her nails but looked at the polish.

“Mmhmm.” She nodded. “What about you, you okay?”

Frowning, I nodded. “Yeah. Why? Do I look sick ?”

“No.” She shook her head. “You don’t feel wobbly, do you?”

I shook my head.

“I thought you were pregnant.” She says in a hushed tone.

It makes me bite my lower lip and look at my heel clad feet.

I thought so too.

I hoped so too.

“It’s not what you need, right now.” She says her hand squeezing my shoulder.

I nod, understanding.

She’s probably right.

I shake my head.

Fuck this. I think.

I’m going to enjoy .

“Also.” Blaire whispered. “I stole Coralyn’s cook book-”

“You didn’t-” I scoff.

She shrugs and drags her fingers through her straight dark hair.

“Blaire!” I gasp. “She loves that thing-”

“I’ll give it back!” She laughs. “Just after I photocopy it.”

I shake my head.

On the contrary .

“Make one for me too?” I ask.

She grins giving my cheek a kiss.

“Don’t give me away.” She said. “She’ll strangle me-”

“So what do you girls want?” Alyssa asked. “My treat-”

As if on queue our waiter arrived.

Or waitress rather.

Pink.

In all in her baby pink outfit, looking somewhat decent, her blonde curls flowing down to her mid back.

“Ladies.” She greeted with a smile before her eyes meet me and Blaire, side by side.

The voluptuous woman’s expression morphed like she ate a sour candy by mistake watching Blaire sitting like she owns the place.

Good .

She does.

“Oh hey, Pink.” Blaire smiled at her, making her expression turn even bitter.

“Didn’t know you asked for orders too-”

I put a hand on her knee patting her shut.

This woman is fight magnet, I swear.

“What would you like to order.”

“Could we have Rosé?” Coralyn asked. “If so leave us a bottle and glasses and some refreshments.”

“Open a tab to my name.” I interjected.

“And four chocolate milk on the rocks, large ones with whipped cream- with refreshments, please.”

Pink left after hearing and writing down the order.

I frowned as soon as the woman clad in high heels walked down the stairs.

Pink. You little bitch.

I thought and soon my thoughts were interrupted by Coralyn’s voice.

“I am so glad you ordered.” She says kicking off her maroon Prada heels.

Alyssa laughed curling up in her club chair.

“Don’t laugh.” Coralyn shushed her. “I panic in these environments, I’m not really a fan of clubs and sort.”

“Why not?” Blaire asks.

“I don’t like loud places.” She crinkles up nose, massaging her feet.

Blaire nods.

“When we lived in America, in an apartment-” Coralyn rolls her eyes.

“I could barely sleep, I swear I’d be woken up by loud horns or construction noises or my next door neighbor yelling at whoever and stumbling drunk every now and then-”

Blaire giggles at her analogy.

“Not that she was mean or anything-” The older petite women shrugs.

“She was mean alright.” Alyssa rolls her eyes.

I rest my head on my palm, as I listen to their conversation.

My head feeling a little light.

“We were friends-” Coralyn interjects.

“Yeah.” Alyssa scoffs. “Before she almost killed you, Cora.”

Coralyn sighs. “She didn’t mean to-”

“She meant it alright.” Alyssa seethed.

“She meant it and now drop this.” She added. “I don’t like talking about Ruby and her antics.”

“Fine-” The older woman sighed and our drinks appeared.

I caught the strawberry undertone of her perfume as the women placed the wine bottle in an ice bucket with two other girls that helped her to carry our order.

“What’s wrong?” Blaire asked watching the sudden shift of my demeanor.

“Nothing.” I told her with a smile.

“If you’ll be needing anything, just use the phone, it’ll connect you to the bar.” Pink said professionally and smiled slightly before leaving the deck.

I got up exactly ten seconds later and straighted my dress.

“Excuse me for a second, I need the ladies room.” I quickly said before any of the thee ladies could tell me they’d accompany me.

I climbed down the stairs, toward the bar where, I was sure pink would be, given that she’s serving the party upstairs.

I don’t know from where I was thinking.

Jealousy was still very new to me.

Very new, and the green, venom like emotion made me almost chaotic .

“Hello Avena.” I greeted when I found her returning the trays to the bar man and adding bills to the tab.

“Hello Bubbles.” She grinned slyly at me. “What can I help you with?”

“Nothing, really.” I said, fingering the diamond strand resting snug against the base of my throat.

“Playing house wife are we?” She sniggered, knowing exactly for what I had her cornered.

There was nothing wrong with being a house wife.

But there was everything wrong with the tone of her voice.

“Did you came here to ask me about your husband’s nightly errands?” She crossed her arms over her voluptuous chest.

The word husband sounds dirty dropping from her lips

I glared at her.

“Or do you have me cornered because your darling dear gave himself away like a fucking gentleman?” She whispered.

I closed my eyes breathing.

Jealously is stupid.

Especially when you’re not a violent and destructive person.

“Did he tell you what exactly l last night?” She lowered her voice to a mare whisper.

“Hmm? Or did you find out from his shirt like the poor damsel in a fantasy that you seem to be in?” She smirked.

“Poor Ariel.” She pouted in a mocking manner.

“Looking all pretty for Capo Bestone playing house wife and spreading her legs like a fucking whore -”

I slapped her.

That was enough.

I have had enough of her sputtering garbage in my face.

I’m not playing

anything for Capo Bestone.

Nothing .

Avena aka Pink sheathed as she turned her face to glare at me.

I stepped in closer to minimize the distance between us.

“I paid attention to every pathetic garbage coming out of your mouth-” I said with a smile.

“You listen to me now.” I added.

“I see stains on his shirt again, I’ll make sure you’re in no state of painting those pretty lips red, Avena.” I whispered.

She snorts at me. “You’re delusional.”

“Oh?” I raise an eyebrow.

“You in some twisted fucking way believe that Capo Bestone is in love with you?” She sniggers.

“If your innocent little delusional fairytale were true than he wouldn’t have came to me last night, Ariel.” She added.

I was getting ready for a reply when Blaire found her way beside me.

The rest of the world oblivious to our argument, too lost in their alcohol quite possibly drugs as well.

“Do we have a problem, Bubbles?” Blaire asked.

“No.” Avena said rolling her eyes along with a dismissive wave.

“I didn’t ask you , darling.” Blaire says.

“No we don’t.” I dismiss the matter.

It was stupid and embarrassing of me to corner Pink like this.

I talked to Angelo and he said there was nothing apart from some lap dances and nothing that I should be worried about.

I should trust him.

That’s what people do when trying.

Trust each other and now, look at me. I think.

It’s so embarrassing .

“Hold on.” Blaire says when I am about to turn and leave.

“But I heard something about Angelo coming to dear Pink, over here.” She adds with a glare of her eyes at Avena.

I shake my head. “Let it go.”

“How about no?” She grins.

Stop it, Blaire.

I don’t want a scene-

“Angelo came to you, did he?” She pouts.

“Which is so weird Pink, because if I remember it was you who almost shoved her tits to Capo Bestone’s face.”

Pink’s expression turned resentful.

Oh!? She was here?

“You weren’t there.” She seethed.

“I was.” Blaire sighs and then points at the camera hanging behind pink.

“That little thing very clearly showed that you, Pink, had cornered a very high Capo Bestone and gave him a dance when he pushed you away.

Avena fumed. “He didn’t push me-”

“Let’s say for a better word, you deliberately started to touch him, inappropriately- before he pushed you for good.”

Pink was seething.

But Blaire was on a roll .

“Landed on your arse didn’t you?” She pouts. “Poor girl.”

“You’ll fucking regret this.” Pink said turning her back

“Sure, sister.” Blaire said with an eye roll. “Go cry to your boss why don’t you?”

“Bitch.” Blaire said pulling her hair over her shoulder.

“What a cunt- why did you let her talk to you like that?”

“I slapped her across the face-” I say guilty.

“Should’ve slapped her harder.” She muses.

“She’s not relevant-” I say pulling at her arm. “Ignore.”

“Oh please.” She frowns. “Don’t put yourself down because some lonely ass dancer decided it’s fun to grope your man, stand up.”

“I feel embarrassed, come on.”

“Own what’s yours, Ariel.” She lectured.

I don’t own him.

He’s not a bag of potato.

“Jealousy is stupid, I shouldn’t have had her cornered, but-” I sigh.

I was so angry .

“It’s okay.” She reassures giving me a squeeze.

“Even though I solved everything with Angelo, I still had her cornered, what would he think of me?”

“He’d get turned on.” She muttered with a hint of smile playing on her face as she motioned for the barman.

“It’s not funny, it’s embarrassing-” I sigh.

“Can we get four bowls of ice cream?” She asks. “Which flavour do you want?”

“Dark chocolate.” I say dismissively.

“One mint chocolate chip, two dark chocolate and one almond with chocolate.” She ordered.

“She said I was playing his house wife-”

“ You aren’t getting in your knees to suck him off and getting pushed on your backside .“ She snorts.

I sigh.

“How did you get access to the camera?” I asked changing the topic.

“Roman gave me his old laptop.” She said collecting the bowls from the bar table, handing me two and getting two herself.

I nod.

That’s good.

That’s progress.

I carried the bowls of ice cream with Blaire to the VIP deck.

“Mine is the almond one.” Alyssa said extending her hand for the ice cream, I handed her hers and sat beside her as Blaire sat on her old seat and we ate ice cream in silence.

“This could be without the heels and in our pajama.” Alyssa complains.

“I thought we could dance and mimgle-” Coralyn whines.

“I though you were married ?” Blaire teases.

“Not like that-” She pouts.

“Point is- pajama party is much nicer.” She adds. “And comfy. We could cuddle-”

I want to disagree with her so bad but it’s so true.

“You guys can come over tomorrow night.” I pipe up from behind my ice cream bowl.

They look at me, with raised eyebrows.

“I’ll cook dinner and whatever.” I shrug.

“We can watch a movie and a pajama party?” I offer.

“Okay.” Coralyn bounces on her seat. “I make cake so we can eat while we watch a movie, okay?”

“Okay.” I grin.

“And I’ll make some munchies.” Alyssa offers.

The whole of making this and that conversation gets interrupted when Roman walks into the room.

Angelo close behind him.

The men greet their mama before Angelo takes his seat beside me.

“Hey handsome.” I whisper when his cologne engulfs me along with the smell of smoked cannabis and he leans close to place a kiss on my mouth.

“Why hello there, gorgeous.” He whispers capturing his mouth with mine in a small yet soft kiss.

I sit with the man’s arm around my waist after he pours himself a serving of Rosé.

“Are you enjoying?” He asks. His fingers moving gentle around my waist.

I nodded, trying to forget the part of Pink and all.

“Did you eat?” He asks sounding more serious.

“Yes.” I whisper sighing from his concern. “I ate. We had steak.”

“I’ll be sure and satisfied when I’ve fed you.” He says the rim of wine glass lingering in his lips.

“Properly.” He adds.

I roll my eyes.

It goes away after a month! I want to tell him but stay silent.

I shake my head and look away to where Roman and Blaire was seated.

They were talking in hushed tones.

I saw the man tilt his head back with eyes closed while Blaire rolled her eyes.

Okay-

Don Marcus and Lorenzo enters suit, while the older man hands his loving wife a bunch of flower making her expression turn the happiest she was all evening and she pulls him down for a dance.

“They’re cute.” I whispered watching Alyssa follow Lorenzo downstairs as well.

“Do you want to dance?” He asked, the tip of his nose gently brushing against my neck.

No . I feel dizzy.

I shake my head, feeling goose bumps and heat spread across my body.

“Come dance with me.” He whispers.

His mouth slightly open and tracing the line of my jaw bone as he silently persuades me.

“I’m wearing heels.” I whisper, almost breathless feeling tiny little bursts inside my body as Angelo’s tongue darts out gently caressing my flesh as he covers my neck and jaw with feather light kisses.

Oh God.

“You can dance in heels.” He chuckles. “Come.”

Getting up, Angelo holds out a hand for me to take.

Ignoring my light headedness, I place my palm in his hand standing up, feeling the world sway around me as he helps me out of the deck and into the dance floor.

Soft, soothing, sensual music plays through the speakers as the other two couple holds their beloved, swaying to the music.

I place my arms on Angelo’s shoulder as he grabs my waist ever so gently, slowly moving with the rhythm of the music around the room.

“You’re beautiful.” I heard him whisper as I look into his onyx orbs.

One of his hand leave my waist, inching close toward my face, brushing my hair behind my ear.

I chew my bottom lip moving along with him.

Falling into slow and measured steps.

His knuckles caress my cheek, with a feather light touch, thumb brushing against my bottom lip, slow, sensual.

Erotic.

“You’re so sexy.” He whispers his mouth moving closer to mine, his warm breath to tickling my lips.

His mouth misses my lips, making me gasp from desire.

Open lips meeting the flesh of my chest, just where my dress covers up my breast, dragging them painfully slow, as I push myself closer to his body.

Eye closed.

Breathing erratic.

Heart almost bursting out from the cage of my chest as I roll my head to his other side giving him the access he so silently begs for against my heated skin.

“Angelo!” I gasp as feel his teeth gently clamping down on my tender flesh before he smoothers the bite with a kiss and gentle nibbles.

“I can’t wait to take you home, Ariel.” He says his hand returning back to it’s position as he resume our dance.

I can’t wait to go home with you. I think breathless.

His eyes swirling with lust.

Desire .

Need.

I flush under his heated gaze.

My hands playing with the longer hair at the nape of his neck as my eyes leave his for a slight second.

“Blaire.” I squint to see the flash of emerald dress making out of the club in hurry.

“What?” Angelo frowns from my sudden tone of worry as I release him and almost run out of the club.

Thankfully, my heels cooperate as I catch up to the woman.

She was aggressively wiping her eyes.

What-

What happened?

“Babe?” I ask placing a hand on her elbow, turning her to face me.

But she just engulfs me in a tight hug.

Okay .

“You’re okay.” I whisper rubbing her back.

---

AUTHOR’S NOTE

SO, yeah and all that.

Heheh.

Anyway~

I know y’all desperately waiting for a Mob Boss update but I really wanted to update this but the lack of response last chapter made me not wanna.

Your classic petty bitch strikes again and all that.

I hope you enjoy cause I can’t seem to be confident enough to believe these garbage turns out good. 😤😭

This is plain garbage.

Nothing makes sense I dunno, I’ve taken breaks and read more and more books trying to pick up something that improves my writing but then I re-read what I write and I feel like a total shit bag.

Fuck, I’ve read sonnets from 18th century like kill me with a machine gun~

I feel like crying. This is stupid.

Thank you for listening to my TedTalk.

-November

27

“It’s okay to let things go, Roman.” I said to the man standing before me, looking as if he was out of place in the head.

His usual impassive demeanour changed into a messed up, confused one.

He stayed silent.

Tentatively reaching up, I patted the highest point of him that I could.

His upper arm, but moved my hand quickly smiling at the distraught soul.

“I have no idea what am I supposed to do.” I says shaking his head slightly.

“It’s okay.” I say. “If you need time, take time. But not too long.”

He somewhat gave me a nodding gesture.

“It’s not only you who’s hurting and confused.” I said gently.

“Blaire is hurting too.” I whisper.

“She’s just as confused as you are and no matter what anybody does will make it better except you .”

“I know.” He sighs. “I just feel so torn between emotions that are old and emotions that I thought shouldn’t feel-”

“We don’t get to choose what we feel, Roman.” I said.

“Some times we just do, and that’s human nature. You can not expect not to fall in love after-”

I shake my head.

“She would never want you to punish yourself like your are, hiding yourself from every positive emotion.”

“I don’t hide myself from positive emotion.” He argued

“You did, you pushed Blaire away. Isn’t a kiss a positive emotion?” I asked.

I feel like a very inexperienced therapist that seemed not to help him in anyway.

“I suppose.” He says shaking my head. “I just need time, can you make sure she doesn’t kill people?”

I nod.

“Thanks, Ariel.” He says with a barely there smile placing a barely there kiss on my cheek.

“I’ll got to the inn and just clear my head-”

“Stay for dinner.” I say moving away to a respectable distance from the larger man.

“I’m just putting up a plate for Angelo, I’ll make you one too.” I add.

He reluctantly takes a seat on the dining table chair as I tell him to help himself with the whiskey.

He does.

Minutes later, Angelo joins me in the kitchen placing a desperate and needy kiss in my mouth, his fingers around my throat, as he looks me in the eye.

“You took off the dress.” He whisperers.

“It was tight.” I mumbled.

“It made you look like Bubbles .” He whispers. “I need Bubbles.”

I pushed him away playfully.

“You get Ariel.” I say placing the grilled chicken breast on the plates.

“Take it or leave it.” I add biting my lip trying to hide the giddiness that erupts with in myself.

“I’d take anything.” He whispers he chin resting on my shoulder, arms around my waist.

“Angelo.” I complain. “Shouldn’t you be attending to Roman? He’s staying for dinner.”

’I’d rather leave him alone.“ He says. “He needs time to wind his head in the right direction.”

I agree with him with a nod of my head, putting enough salad in both the plates along with bread.

“You took off your ring.” Angelo sag looking at my left hand and taking it in his hold.

“I was afraid I’d loose it.” I say as he examines my finger. “I have a habit to loose expensive things.”

Or sometimes they get taken away from me.

I shake the thought off my head as I focus on the task at hand.

“I don’t want you to take it off, ever again.” Angelo says, his nose dragging up to the length of my neck, head rolling back to give him access on instinct.

“You wear it with pride, sí?” He whispers against my ear, teeth tugging down on the soft flesh of my earlobe.

“Yes.” I whisper breathless.

“You wear my name with honour , like you’re mine , yes?”

What is it with words and him today? I think as tiny little bombs erupts all over my body with his touches.

“Yes.” I breathe out an answer as he pulls away making me gasp at the loss of contact between our bodies.

Angelo leaves toward the dining table after placing a gentle kiss on my temple.

Five minutes later, I take two dinner plates to the dining table and ask if they would need anything else.

“These are quite enough, thank you Ariel.” Roman says.

“You’re welcome.” I nod. “I’ll go upstairs to check on Blaire.”

Opening the door to her bedroom, I found the woman curled up on the middle of the bed, the weighted coverlet covering her form.

“Blaire?” I asked gently. If she was a sleep I’d let her.

If she was trying to drown on darkness, I take her down and make her eat something and possibly gossip.

That might lighten her mood and lift some of her spirit so she can get a good night sleep.

“You want something bub?” I pressed again to see if she was awake.

There was no sound apart from the shuffling of the blanket.

I sigh.

“Do you want chocolate cake? We have some-” I add hoping if she will get up.

She doesn’t.

I close the door as silently possible not to disturb her and make my way downstairs.

After bringing Blaire home from the club, I suggested she slept it off.

Sleep did wonders when you were angry or mad or really in pain.

I would know.

Soon after she retrieved to a guestroom, I gathered some clothes and a warm robe for her, made her hot chocolate so she could sleep good and warm till the morning and left a note that if she wanted to come down to grab a bite.

Roman came and explained what happened to me and Angelo and elaborated the confusion at his part and thus our discussion before.

Entering the kitchen, I busied myself making a small but enough chocolate cake.

If Blaire wakes up in the middle of the night looking for cake, that is.

Roman takes his leave after dinner. Angelo walks the man out.

When Angelo walks back into the kitchen, the cake is done and I am lathering it up in thick melted chocolate.

“Do I get a piece or is it all for the mental case?” He asks wrapping his arms around my waist, toying with the string of my dress robe.

“She’s not a mental case , Angelo.” I protest. “She’s just sad and angry.”

“I’m only joking.” He says placing a kiss on my shoulder after pulling my sleeve down, exposing my flesh to his mouth.

After I am done with the cake, I cut a generous piece for Angelo and give it him.

Surely Blaire wouldn’t mind just a little missing from her cake.

I cover the desert with a lid and place the plate in the fridge so the chocolate hardens well enough.

“Are you coming to bed?” Angelo asks resting his barely eaten chocolate cake on the counter watching me as I busy myself in cleaning up the dishes.

“Just let me finish here and I’ll come to bed.” I say with a smile.

“I’m hiring a cleaning lady.” He says picking up his plate.

“No.” I object.

“Why not?” He asks. “You’re doing all the works yourself, cooking, cleaning, laundry and every other shit and you’re unwell.”

“It’s just iron deficiency.” I say with an eye roll. “Not cancer .”

“I want you to rest enough .” He says, his voice gentle.

“Sí? At least naps after lunch and meals in between, please.” He adds.

“I am alright.” I say again.

He sighs.

“I’ll agree to nap.” I says pushing myself closer to him. “Okay? And one snack on between.”

There is only so much a girl can eat.

Sighing he shakes his head, pushing the hair back from my face.

“Let’s go to bed, I’ll tuck you in and I’ll do the dishes.” He gently offers.

“Capo Bestone, doing dishes.” I tease. “Won’t that hurt your lion pride?”

“Nothing to hurt my pride, if I’m doing it for you, baby.”

It makes me flush as rest my head against his chest.

“You smell nice.” I whisper.

“Thank you.”

“Let’s go to bed.”

This night going to bed was different.

We didn’t have sex. We just snuggled together in the middle of our huge bed.

Angelo whispered sweet nothings in my ear while his fingers softly toyed with me.

Taking his time, he played with my hair, caressed my thighs my stomach, my cheeks and slowly I felt myself dozing off in his arms.

Safe.

Without a care in the world.

Or so I thought, I had fallen asleep.

If somebody told me some months prior, I’d be snuggling Angelo Giovanni in our bed.

In our house, sharing the most intimate touches with him.

I would have laughed then cried and then broke down because I knew it would have never been possible.

But tonight was like a dream.

I laid awake long after Angelo had fallen a sleep, our fingers laced together, the back of my head resting against his chest while I listened to his gentle heart beats.

I couldn’t sleep.

I don’t know, we rarely spend nights like this.

Sleeping so peacefully.

Usually we’re fighting or fucking or both at the same time.

Looking at the clock on the bedside table, I untangled myself from Angelo.

I had forgotten to fill the water bottles. Agai n.

Shaking my head at my scatterbrained action, I slipped my feet into the fur slippers that Alyssa had given me as a gift.

Padding down the stairs I walk toward the kitchen for a glass of water.

Maybe juice and something to eat, possibly.

The medications are weird.

They make me hungry one second and ache-y the other.

I see Blaire leaning against the kitchen counter, a bottle of water in her hand as she takes long gulps to quench her thirst.

With a small smile lingering on my lips, that she might have finally calmed down enough to talk, I advance toward her.

“Hey.” I call her softly.

I think my voice startles her because she turns to look at me.

Her eyes are swollen and cheeks full.

She cried, no doubt.

I offer her a smile and decide it’s better not to bring anything up.

Not now at least.

“You want something to eat?” I ask moving toward the fridge to get a glass of cranberry juice.

I use a wine glass and add some juice and add some water from the bottle Blaire was drinking

“Do you want cake?” I ask putting the bottle back on the fridge.

The cake, drenched in thick German chocolate stares back at me with longing .

I take the plate out, closing the fridge behind my back place the goodness on top of the counter top looking for a small plate.

“I don’t want cake.” Blaire says taking another swig of water from the bottle.

“Okay.” I say cutting a piece of cake and putting the desert in a desert plate grabbing a golden fork and putting the rest in the fridge.

Is she okay though?

She sounds- daunting .

As if I had wronged her in a thousand different ways.

What did I do?

“Did you enjoy your dinner ?” She asked with a voice that made me want to ask if I had done something to offend her.

“Hmm?” I relished the taste of cake, pretending her voice toward me was normal.

“There was nothing to enjoy, Roman came over, stayed for dinner, Angelo and Roman ate and he left and then we-” I add with a casual shrug.

I mean, she ought to know Roman came over.

That he cares, even though a little .

I understand that he’s wronged her and she feels repudiated .

It’s completely understandable.

“I’m sure you enjoyed yourself.” She whispered.

“What?” I laugh. “I barely ate.”

I barely had the time to sit down  eat my feet feeling wobbly all night.

How did I enjoy myself?

“I saw him kissing your cheek.” She whispers.

But her tone is pained and full of wrath. Toward me.

Oh?

“Why’d he do that to you but push me away?” She asks in a rugged whisper.

“Am I so hideous?” She asks.

Blaire, why would you think that?

“Blaire-” I breathe. “Bub I-”

I didn’t ever feel that she’d-

Oh my God.

“Don’t!” She yelled. “I see pity in your eyes!”

I grow quiet.

Better out than in.

I close my eyes as Blaire utters sentence after sentence that she probably doesn’t mean.

Or does she?

“I don’t want your fucking pity!” She yells.

The water filled whiskey bottle crashes on the floor.

I jump from the sudden sound that thunders through the eerily silent house.

God, I hope Angel doesn’t wake up for fuck’s sake.

He’ll loose it.

And Blaire has enough on her head already.

God please. I say a prayer, eyes closed, trying to keep my unshed tears at bay.

“It mortifies me how he’d run to you for consolation but I don’t deserve an elucidation for the rejection I felt.” She hisses.

He didn’t come to me for consolation .

He came to look for you.

And then he placed is confusion and reasons like a naked wound.

How can she even think that?

I stay silent.

Because somehow it’s my fault.

Isn’t it?

If it wasn’t why’d she say so?

“It’s your fucking fault !” Blaire yells.

I know.

I’m sorry .

“So fuck you and fuck everybody!”

With that she retrieves from the kitchen, that was now a mess of water, my small fur rug soaked and soiled with crystal pieces littering the marble swirled floor.

I hear the door to her bedroom slam shut.

The harsh sound makes me jump.

I stare at the cake in front of me.

Tears streaming down my eyes as I take the plate and shove it’s contents in the waste bin and put it on the sink pouring my juice down the sink.

“Tadpole?” I hear the voice gently piercing the painful silence.

I grab the edge of the sink, trying to appear as normal and okay as possible.

Nothing happened here.

Nothing.

Go back to bed, Angel.

“Just slipped.” I chuckled shaking my head, my lip between my teeth.

“I’m fine.” I whispered again.

“Don’t lie.” His voice was sharp and clear. “I saw it.”

“Angel-”

“Come over here, leave those.”

I shake my head. “Just a second, I’ll be fine.”

Angelo doesn’t protest or deny anything.

I wash the plate and the glass and proceed to pick out the shred of glass from the floor, wiping the tears leaking out from my eyes like crazy.

“Ariel, leave those!” Angelo yells walking over in his slippers, grabbing my hands to make me stand.

“Drop it.” He orders.

“I have to clean them off-”

“You don’t.” He says. “Drop those on the bin.”

I obey him and carefully ignoring the glass shreds I walk behind the large man toward the stairs.

He urges me to sit on the edge of the bed, carefully examining my hands, the small cut from the glass stings against my skin.

“I’ll get you some cleaning solution.” Angelo sighs patting my knee ams getting up, disappearing into the bathroom.

He gently dabs the alcohol solution on my palm and presses cotton ball, making me wince from the burn before tucking me under covers.

He comes back to bed almost half an hour later and settles behind me, holding me close to his warm body.

“Sleep.” Angelo whispers.

“Yes.” I mumble looking out at the darkness through out uncovered windows.

I didn’t draw the blinds again. I think.

“Don’t think about it, baby.” He urges gently massaging my hair. “Go to sleep, I’m right here.”

I hold his free hand on both of mine, placing it close to my heart as I close my eyes.

Trying to welcome some sleep.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

All my senses are awake.

I can almost hear the leaves rustling through my minds ears, from the gentle wind.

I leave Angelo’s embrace before five in the morning.

Down in the living room, I open the windows and push the blinds away, letting the early morning air rush inside the house.

I shiver from the slight change of temperature.

I take almost two hours to clean the whole ground floor, scrubbing the floors, counter tops, tables till my body feels almost numb from the water and the cleaning liquid.

After discarding those in the ground floor bathroom, I freshen up, re-tie my hair in a knot on top of my head and walk back into the kitchen to get started in breakfast.

My fur rug from the floor that was soiled the night before was gone leaving my kitchen floor to look almost naked.

It makes me sigh as I pull out contents of breakfast from the fridge and get to make breakfast.

I boil eggs for Angelo, put the bread to get toasted and sweet sausages to sizzle and chop some fruits for salad and start the coffee machine.

Breakfast is almost done when Angelo greets me by wrapping his arms from behind, placing a kiss on my temple.

I turn to face him with a smile lingering on my lips.

He was dressed for the day, in a two piece steel grey suit and a black shirt.

“You’re ready.” I acknowledge.

“I am.” He says leaning to place a kiss on my mouth. “I have to be at the office early today.”

“Oh?” I frown. “Are you going to be back before dinner?”

“I’ll try, baby.” He says tucking a lock of hair behind my ear and awards me with yet another kiss.

We eat breakfast outside in the back lawn.

Angelo waits for me to finish my share of food, watching me cuddle Coco on my lap as I eat.

He helps me with the tablets and kisses me goodbye before leaving.

I spend the rest of the morning outside with Coco.

Bertie drops by. I ask him if he wants breakfast.

He declines ruffling my hair says he needs to work.

He stays at the guest house.

Coco alternates between living with me and Bertie.

When the temperature starts to raise, indicating the end of morning and beginning of dawn, I busy myself into cutting some flowers from the flower patches to decorate the living room.

I pick enough to put them in a number of jars and carry them to the living room.

Coco stays outside, lazily chasing butterflies.

Sitting before the coffee table I sort out the flower arrangement to put them in watered jars and cut them in perfect lengths.

It’s then when I hear Blaire’s presence beside me.

Her eyes gauging me cautiously.

“Hey.” I plaster a fake smile as greeting

“Buongiorno.” I wish. “How’d you sleep?”

“Good.” She replies taking a seat on the couch behind me.

“How did you sleep?” She asks.

I didn’t.

“Good.” I lie “My medication makes it harder so I’ve been up since six.”

“Give me a minute to put these away, I’ll warm your breakfast.” I gently say wanting to avoid conversation that would lead us back to last night.

I’d rather she didn’t bring it up, now.

Or ever.

I put the biggest jar on the centre of the table and carry the other three to place one in the centre of the dining table.

One on the kitchen counter and one just in the kitchen so it looks pretty and not naked.

I warm the breakfast I had set out separately for Blaire and wait for the oven to ping done.

It does sooner than I anticipated so I carry a plate of warm, steaming breakfast to Blaire.

She offers me a small thanks that I acknowledge with a nod and a smile before disappearing into the kitchen.

I spend my raging anxiety into making a loaf of sandwich bread from scratch.

I mess up the first time and then start again, almost on the verge of yet another breakdown.

Putting the loaf into the oven, I wait for it to bake and start on the other ingredients to make a sandwich for lunch.

Occasionally going through the gossip news on my phone or scrolling through Instagram, looking at shoes and bags and dresses.

Anything to pass time.

Because I for one know Blaire doesn’t want my presence so better I don’t-

Yeah .

I take out the roasted chicken from the oven that has been there for a while and proceed to cut of out for sandwich when Blaire enters the kitchen.

“Hey.” She greets.

“Hey.” I chirp back trying to appear as normal as possible.

She makes small talk.

I keep up.

I hand her a plate of her lunch and ask if she needs wine or anything.

She declines before retrieving to the living room.

I carry my lunch outside, sit on the grass.

Coco curls up against my thigh, snuggling.

“You miss mama, huh?” I smile patting his head.

“I love you.” I say even though I know my mutt doesn’t understand.

Lorenzo calls telling dinner and after party is cancelled because Alyssa doesn’t feel well.

Blaire sits by me, talking.

I keep up.

I don’t want to hurt her anymore.

I don’t want to hurt anybody anymore.

Angelo calls asking if I’ve eaten or napped or retested at least.

I lie.

“Eat your food, Bubbles.” Blaire reaches for the plate and puts it on my folded. “You’re sick.”

“I’m fine.” I mumble taking a bite of my sandwich.

That’s all I eat.

I don’t feel like eating .

Blaire tells me to go take a nap and that she’ll clean after.

I offer her a thank you as I retrieve to my room.

I’m not exactly sleepy.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I rummage through the bedside table on Angelo’s side to look for his vial of sleeping pills.

I take two Ambien before curling on the bed with Coco.

That’ll give me some sleep.

Yes.

And I’ll wake up feeling better.

---

Fun fact: One Ambien (the sleeping pill Ariel took) will give you a break free seven/eight hours sleep. Any more then prescribed in considered to be overdose and dangerous.

Anyways.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Let me know if you liked the chapter and if it cleared the air between two books.

What do you think Ariel and Blaire’s friendship will become now?

And what will Roman do~

Or Angelo?

November

28

I was frantic to receive the call from Blaire telling that Ariel was sick.

What kind of sick?

And how much sick?

The thought clouded my head with worry and paranoia.

I was sure to call her in the afternoon to make sure she was eating and taking rest in between.

Leaving the house today had turned out to be a bad decision, I think as I park the McLaren in front of the hospital gate.

It was a no parking but like I gave a damn at this moment.

“Ariel LaRusso.” I say to the receptionist.

“Are you family?” She asks, it’s supposed to be a precaution or her tone is supposed to be sweet.

Right now it just angers me.

“Family, yes.” I reply trying to keep my temper at bay.

“In emergency room, five.” She said with a smile handing me a digital card.

I almost rush toward the emergency unit to find Roman and Blaire sitting side by side.

I knew tadpole wasn’t in her brightest of days this morning.

She was timid, she was calculated and gentle.

Too much gentle.

“What happened?” I ask as I approach the scene.

Roman stands and leads me away from Blaire’s ear shot.

“Ariel supposedly, took your sleeping medication.” Roman says.

“Doctors have her examining, but there is no news yet.”

“Sleeping medication?” I ask. “Ambien?”

He gives me a nod.

Damn fuck, Tadpole.

“I suppose she wasn’t feeling very bright today?” He asks.

“No.” I reply earnestly.

She rarely feels bright.

And she’d feel a lot more bright if Blaire hadn’t accused her of something she never did.

Their conversation from last night rang in my ears.

How Blaire had yelled and cussed at Ariel.

And how Ariel was desperately trying to fix the broken glass.

It pained me deeply to see her hurt and almost having a breakdown battling herself the night before.

“She will be alright.” He says patting my shoulder.

I give him a polite nod before following him to the waiting lobby.

It was eerily silent.

I was drowning in silence and an ache bursting from deep within myself.

I try to place one point, just one little point where I think, I went wrong in the last couple of days.

I think back to this morning.

She was alright.

My Ariel, she was alright, she was smiling, even though she kept the pain from last night buried in her.

A doctor emerged from the emergency room and asked for Bubbles family.

I greeted and asked if she was okay.

The man replied that they hope she was okay and added some more information, labelled the case as a suicide attempt and advised therapy.

He also added that a psychiatrist was taking her statement and Ariel was awake.

I was thankful for that.

However I had no energy in me to fight the hospital or the doctor so they didn’t take a statement out of Ariel.

I had no idea in what mental state she was in and it worrying me.

She wasn’t and isn’t suicidal.

And neither do I believe it was a suicide attempt.

Ariel-

Ariel would never do that, would she?

She’d never do that to me or us .

I wasn’t in a place go think or feel.

I just agreed to whatever the doctor said and slumped back against the wall, feeling whatever buoyancy left in me to crumble at my feet.

I couldn’t imagine what would have happened if she didn’t wake up.

If she wasn’t conscious.

Another doctor greeted us.

In her late thirties or early forties the women held a gentle look in her features.

“Hello.” She smiles. “I’m doctor Rossi, We took a statement from Miss LaRusso. She says she didn’t know the medications were that much powerful and it would exhaust her body. She’s fine. We carried out some tests, she wasn’t over dosed, she was passed out from exhaustion and possible anxiety.”

She says gently, an empathic look hovering over everybody waiting for Ariel.

“Ariel says she feels fine to go home, but I suggest her to stay for almost a day to see if her health improves, and then she’s free to go.”

“Grazie, doctor.” I say regaining my posture, feeling slightly relaxed if not more.

Her words put me to ease, to say at least.

“Would it be fine, if I see her?” I asked the women.

“Sure.” She smiled. “But remember to be gentle to her in tone and behavior, she’s inordinately feeble mentally and tired physically so no deep discussions.”

Understanding the tone of care for her patient I nodded and made my way inside the lit room.

They had changed Ariel’s clothes to a pale green hospital gown.

A cannula attached to the back of her hand, and her head was resting peacefully on the pillows.

She opened her baby brown orbs hearing the sound of metal chair scrapping the floor as I pulled it back to take a seat.

“Hey.” She rewarded me with the loveliest smile she could muster on those pale lips.

“Hey, baby.” I responded and sat down on the chair. “How are you feeling?”

“Stupid.” She said shaking her head.

“Stupid?” I ask. “Why?”

“Scared you, didn’t I?” She asks tentatively.

“You did.” I agree.

“I’m sorry.” She whispers.

“I didn’t know, I thought they were regular tablets and I was feeling tired and -” She adds hastily.

“Shush.” I sat clasping her both hands in mine. “Shush.”

“Okay.” She whispers.

I bring her hand to my lips and place gentle kisses on each of her knuckles before resting her hand against my forehead.

“Don’t worry about me.” She said gently.

“I’m fine.” She added.

You’re all I ever worry about, tadpole.

“I know.” I whisper closing my eyes, pondering over the thoughts that was running though my head barely an hour ago.

All the dreadful possibilities.

All those what ifs.

All those without hers.

I heard the door of the room push open and somebody enter.

I could tell it was Blaire, so I didn’t bother to look up.

I can’t bare to look up at her.

Insecurities and jealousy makes a person see the way they don’t normally do.

Blaire isn’t a bad person . I was sure of that.

Her mouth ran like a train, and apart from that there was nothing wrong with her.

But the way she had accused Ariel the night before, made me feel something for her that was not entirely positive.

“Hey.” She greeted the pale sick looking women half laying in the hospital cot.

“Hi.” I heard Ariel whisper

I always appreciated Blaire and Ariel’s friendship. Always .

I was glad she finally had some one to confide into.

Girls need girl friends to rant and I for one was glad they had each other to do all those.

“How you feeling, Bubbles?” She asks.

“Tired.” Ariel replied. “They made me throw up a lot.”

“But I’m so ready to go home.” She adds. “This places sickens me.”

“He seems to be more distraught than I am.” She adds, I can feel her eyes on me, possibly a smile resting on her lovely face.

I sigh.

“This is cute.” I say. “Did Devil-o give it to you?”

“You okay?” Ariel asks after a beat of silence.

“You gave me a bastard scare in the arsehole.” Blaire adds with a nervous chuckle.

The winsome sound of Ariel’s giggles fill the silent and almost tensed air of the hospital room.

“I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know the tablets are that powerful, a doctor suggested I go therapy for suicidal recovery.”

“Yeah.” Blaire says.. “He told us that too.”

“I may be- a little bit- wobbly? But I ain’t suicidal like what?” Ariel says with a shake of her head.

“I know-” Blaire starts.

“We’re getting therapy, tadpole.” I abruptly speak up, still keeping my tone in check.

“Angelo-”

“No.” I shush her. “I want you to go through therapy.”

“Why do I need to go through therapy?” She asks. “I’m fine- I just-”

“You know you’re not fine.” I say with a raise of my eyebrow.

What does anybody has to loose over a few days of therapy?

“And we’re changing up your doctor, I don’t like the bastard.” I add letting go of her hand and standing up.

I didn’t like the insensitive and rude tone the man used to label Ariel as a suicide mad case.

And I don’t want that man around her.

If she’s advised to stay admitted for further examination and observation, I’d rather that happens.

And it would rather be she’s made comfortable during her stay.

“Where are you going?” She asks her eyes growing big at the sight of me standing up

“I’ll talk to someone to change your doctor and then drive home to get an overnight bag for us.” I say leaning down to place a kiss in her head.

She gives me a nod.

I leave the women alone to bond after their havoc last night.

I’d rather these two chaotic energy gets back together.

Well one chaotic energy and one slightly less chaotic energy.

“How is your girl?” Roman asks standing up from the metal chair that he was sitting on.

“Good, I suppose.” I say.

“Thanks.” I add.

Shaking his head he pulls me into an embrace.

“I’m glad.” He says pulling away.

“I’m going to pick up an overnight bag from home, would you do me favour?”

“Sí?”

“Change that male doctor and tell them to move her somewhere comfortable.”

Roman nods slapping my upper arm. “I’ll see it’s arranged.”

“Thanks brother.” I say patting his shoulder, and giving him another hug before I walkout of the hospital and get into the McLaren to drive home.

The drive to the villa from the hospital is a short one.

I smoke a joint on the drive home partly to ease my nerves and partly to clear my head, from feeling anything that is negative.

I take a shower in the master bathroom, pack some loose dress for Ariel, some of her daily essentials, underwear-

She wouldn’t need those would she?

I shove a handful of panties on the bag as well as some T-shirts of mine and some pajama bottoms and call it its.

I grab Ariel’s phone from the bedside table.

The device vibrates on my palm.

Unknown private.

“Hello?” I answer the phone as I made my way down through the stairs.

“Who is this?” I ask again checking the windows on the first floor.

“Hello?”

“Hello?” I ask frowning.

What the fuck?

I collect Ariel’s keys from bowl resting on top the shoe cabinet and close the door behind me.

The call was disconnected by now.

I pocket the cell and make sure the door was locked before shooting a text to Alberto, he replies as soon as I slip into the drivers seat.

Good.

When I enter the hospital room after parking the car in a proper place, I find Blaire and Ariel cuddling on the cot, both sipping whatever from the thermos they clutched while they chatted.

Roman was seated on the chair emersed in his phone.

“You can retrieve.” I say to Roman.

“I’ll take it from here.” I say dropping the leather bound bag at the foot of the bed.

Roman stands, straightening his shirt and gives me a hug.

“Don’t stress yourself.” He says against my ear placing a kiss on my temple.

“I won’t.” I say kissing his temple. “Try to take it easy in the mentally deranged one.”

He chuckles slapping my arm and gives me card. “Private. Fifth floor.”

I nod and pocket the card.

After the couple takes their leave I sit on the cold metal chair once again.

Ariel’s fluid bag was two third empty already.

“Do you feel alright?” I ask taking her hand in mine after she places the thermos cup on the side table.

“Yep.” She answers. “Pretty fine.”

“Hungry?” I ask.

“Not really.” She grimaces. “I had soup. Roman says the inn will deliver in some time.”

I nod.

“We’ll be moving to a better room upstairs.” I declare.

Ariel frowns.

“What do you mean?” She asks. “This is fine. It’s a hospital.”

“It’s funded by the family and it has a private care facility upstairs.” I say.

“Fifth floor, you’ll be away from the prying eyes of people with a better source of sunlight-” I say looking at small window of the room.

Is this even-

Ariel shakes her head. “You’re mad.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“I’m only here for the night-”

“Forty eight hours.” I correct her.

Ariel groans. “Do I have to?’

“Yes.” I say sternly.

“I hate hospital and doctors.”

“No can do, baby.” I say leaning my back against the cold backrest of the chair.

“Come on, Angelo.” She whines. “I wanna go home and sleep.”

“After we’re done here you’ll go home and get your sleep.”

“I am perfectly fine!” She argues.

“Don’t press me, tadpole.” I warn.

“Rude.” She mutters rolling her eyes.

As if on our queue, the lady doctor appears on the doorway.

I get up to give her my seat.

“Miss LaRusso.” She addresses. “How are we feeling?”

“Great.” Ariel chirps. “Can I go home now?”

The doctor chuckles. “No sweetheart, mandatory observation.”

“But I am fine.” She whines.

Looped .

“Yes.” The doctor agrees. “That you are.”

“I’m going record your blood pressure, alright?” She asks Ariel before cuffing her upper arm.

“Since you’ve been switched, I’d like you tell me about your iron deficiency symptoms.” The doctor says.

Ariel ponders her question for a second.

“I’m just light headed, not hungry.” She says. “That’s all.”

The doctor nods reading her pressure. “We’re a little bit low, nothing to be worried. Just some beans and eggs, sí?”

Ariel nods.

“I’ll take off your cannula for the night so you get a good night sleep and then we’ll have another bag of fluid in the morning, after that-”

“I go home.”

“Eventually, Darling.” She smiles. “Yes.”

“I can’t wait.”

The doctor takes off her cannula and Ariel makes and fist.

Clenching and unclenching finally grinning at me like a five year old.

I stroke her hair once after the doctor leaves us to our own.

“Let’s go, get you moving okay?” I ask. “I’ll call a nurse.”

“Okay.” She smiles.

The fifth floor private room was slightly bigger than the ward downstairs.

It had a window to let sufficient light in and a bathroom.

A small wardrobe pushed to one side and a TV.

“The other room wasn’t that bad.” Ariel complained as the nurse helped her on the bed.

The bed was bigger. It’d fit two.

There was a couch that could be turned into a bed.

Those inflatable ones.

“Okay, bed is comfy.” She said sighing laying her head against the fluffed up pillow.

I sat on the club chair placed on the side of the bed.

“It would fit two.” Ariel retorts with a yawn. “If we squeeze a bit.”

I agree to her mindless squabble.

Our dinner enters just after a minute or two later.

“Soup.” Ariel crinkles up her nose as the tomato garlic soup and bread rolls. Pieces of beef steak.

“It’s better warm.” I say lay out the napkin before I place the wooden tray on her lap.

“I want something spicy and really good.” She says. “Like trapizzino or porchetta-”

I chuckle steering the soup with a spoon and holding the warm bothy food to her lips.

She accepts it ams hums.

“Do you remember the first time we had trapizzino?” She smiles halfway at me.

I raise my eyes.

I remember it just fine.

She had brought trapizzino for lunch, in a red paper box wearing a little dress, ramping her way into my office like a goddess.

‘Do you want to eat?’ She had said.

Damn right, I ate .

“I don’t.” She giggles. “I remember what happened after though.”

I shake my head. “Alright miss chirpy so happy, let’s eat first.”

She beams and accepts the food that I feed her, spoon by spoon emptying the bowl of soup, two rolls of bread and half of the beef.

“Finished?” I ask when Ariel moves her face away from the piece of beef.

“Sí.” She nods.

I eat the rest of the stake and the bread rolls a before clearing off the tray from the bed.

Reading through the new prescription, I give Ariel the tablets.

They were all changed and replaced so I give her four small tablets which of those she takes a moment to down and lays down on the bed, humming to herself.

I change into a pair of joggers and T-shirt before the doctor enters the room again.

Thankfully, I finish tying up the string as she pushes the door open and enters.

“Hello Mister Giovanni.” She gives me a gentle smile.

“Miss LaRusso.” Doctor Rossi asks. “Are we settled?”

“Sí.” Ariel smiles.

“You seem a bit looped from the medications but that’s fine.” The doctor smiles making Ariel look at her with a frown.

No wonder.

“Nothing a good nights sleep won’t cure.” She gently says reaching for her prescription. “Did you take your medications?”

“Yes.” Ariel nods. “I did. All four.”

“Why, you’re a good patient.” The doctor smiles. “Now it’s time to sleepy go bye, sí?”

“Yep.” She nods laying back on the bed and pulling the cover up to her chin.

“Mister Giovanni?” Miss Rossi asks turning toward me.

“Sí, signora.” I pay attention to what she had to say.

“Ariel’s test reports came out just about normal.” She says handing me transparent file.

“Her everything seems fine as I have checked those personally, and I feel that she’s healthy.” The lady says.

I nod.

“That’s all I had to say.” She smiles and takes her leave. “And that she needs care. Possibly mor now.”

“Why did she smile at you?” I hear Ariel’s voice.

There was a pout resting on her lips.

A little too looped are we?

“Why can’t she smile at me, tadpole?” I ask advancing toward the bed.

She makes space for me on the bed so I can get in.

“Cause she can’t.” She says smuggling closer to me.

Her response makes me smile slightly.

“You smell fresh.” She hums.

“Do I?” I ask.

She nods pressing her head against my chest. I smile, wrapping one arm around her shoulder and turning out the light.

Only the power saving bulb from the lamp on the bedside table casts a glow over the room.

Slowly, Ariel’s breathing shallows down becoming even, as she lolls off to sleep.

I think I fall asleep too but the buzz and ringing of the phone makes me squint my eyes open.

It was Ariel’s.

The same private unknown number.

“Hello?” I ask picking up the device from the bedside table and answering the call.

Silence.

“Hello, who is this?” I ask again, the device pressed to my ear.

“Shhh.” Ariel shushes me in her sleep. “Stop Angel. Don’t talk.”

Silence.

I end the call.

What kind of bastard joke is this.

I dial Eli’s number, our tech savy from Ariel’s phone.

“Hello?” He answers in a groggy sleepy tone.

“Capo Bestone.” I reply to his greeting.

“Boss?” His tone immediately alert and conscious.

“I need a number traced.”

---

Author’s Note:

So, I did a question thingy on IG and almost all of yous said y’all wanted an Angelo POV so here it is.

And it’s shit. Lmao

I’m sorry this wasn’t probably what y’all wanted or expected.

But when I write an Ariel POV (it might be late, my confidence and expectation regarding this book is low as f““k, idk how long it’ll take to get it up-)

I promise I’ll make it up to y’all

PS: who is calling Ariel ?

-November.

29

No amount of I am fine was enough to get me out of the trouble I got myself into.

And a pretty deep trouble that was.

It earned me almost a thirty hour stay at the hospital and approximate six weeks of therapy.

Therapy .

Therapy .

Angelo helped me out of the car, a hand around my shoulder and my hand clasped in his free one as he walked me toward the entrance gate of the house.

Seeing my arrival Coco yapped loudly, leashed and held by Alberto who was lounging in the garden.

For once he was causally dressed in a T-shirt and joggers.

“Hey baby.” I cooed to my mutt as he almost raced over to me, clearly  overjoyed upon my arrival.

Awe, missed you too bub.

Angelo loosened his hold so I could bend down to pick up Coco and give him cuddles.

“Thanks Bertie.” I said to the man as he advanced towards us.

He gives me an encouraging nod that makes me smile slightly before he turns to Angelo, updating him about what went on in his slight absence.

“And what about the report from Eli?” Angelo asked sternly.

“Eli said he wanted to speak to you personally.” Bertie replied.

Angelo nodded and regained his hold, helping me to walk inside inside.

Once I was seated on one of the white couches, Angelo asked if I needed anything.

I answered in negative while Coco was still cuddled up to my chest.

Well, somebody missed their mama.

Angelo disappears through out the double doors.

“What’s got papa so troubled huh?” I ask nuzzling Coco’s head.

“You think something is wrong?” I ask to his gentle cooing.

“Yeah- he’s an anxious little shit.” I muse crinkling up my nose to my dog.

He barks at me angrily making me laugh.

“I can’t cuss him can I?” I roll my yes. “Little traitor .”

I don’t even know if Angelo likes Coco.

Pretty sure he can’t stand my lovely little doggie boy.

Jealous .

Angelo walks in a second later, after I was done having a one sided conversation with Coco who barked when something was offending.

“Let’s get you settled to bed-” Angelo started, one of his hand occupied with the our hospital bag.

I frown at him.

“I’ve been settled in bed for the last two days.” I reason.

“Tadpole.” He warns.

“Let me be.” I say kicking up my feet on the couch and settling on a laying position with Coco curled up on my stomach.

“Alright.” He says putting a fluffed up cushion under my head and stroking my hair gently.

“I’ll take a shower.” He announces making me nod. “Find me in the office.”

He drops my phone on the coffee table along with his phone, sunglasses, car keys before retrieving upstairs.

Fun .

I turn on the TV settling into a national network, scratching Coco’s fur absentmindedly as I emerse myself into the show.

Horror .

What channel plays horror movie in the afternoon?

“Howdy, residence of Devil-o.” The high pitched voice makes me jump and shriek as I scramble up into a sitting position.

Jesus fucking Christ.

“Jesus Christ! Woman.” Blaire narrows her eyes at me, a picnic basket slung at the crook of her arm as she gives me a sour expression.

“Made me shit, your shriek did.” She added still cautiously eyeing me and rounding to the couch.

“Why are you watching this crap?” She asks turning off the TV setting the jute basket by the floor.

“And then shrieking like a fucking banshee when humans come into your place like, Ariel, you’re going kill yourself one day being as crazy-”

“Blaire.” Roman warns, himself just entering the house and meeting with Blaire’s obnoxious rambling.

I’m still eyeing her.

“Why do you have to yell like that?” I ask throwing a pillow at her.

Coco had already jumped down from his spot on my stomach and was sitting on the floor.

“No, why do you have to watch ghost shit?” She argues. “That stuff scares me, woman.”

I shake my head.

Ghosts would be scared of you, Blaire. I wanted to say.

“Anywho.” Blaire muses, jumping on the couch pulling the picnic basket up on top of her lap.

“I made an effort and made you lunch.” She grinned taking out four boxes of plastic container.

“You did?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

“Yep.” She nodded as Roman rounded the couch and took a seat beside the unusually excited woman.

Blaire getting excited was- unusual and uh- scary.

When she’s excited it meant cogs were turning in her head and it usually ends up in disasters.

Like that club party, the other night.

Whatever.

It’s a night, minus the good things, I’d like to forget and never remember.

“Because I am such a good cook-” Blaire boasted making Roman scoff and snort.

I shake my head, picking Coco back up on my lap.

Blaire gives somewhat of a disturbed look to Roman for interrupting her self promotion.

“Because I’m such a good cook, I garnished everything cute and I just need to warm these up.”

“Yeah.” I said. “Sure, oven’s in the kitchen.”

Roman snorted at my non humorous joke.

High five, Roman . I think mentally.

“Whatever.” Blaire rolls her eyes.

“I know oven’s in the kitchen, I’ll warm them up, we can eat outside.” She adds.

Well, I love the idea of eating outside in the sun.

I haven’t had any sun since the day I got in for a suicide attempt

Suicide attempt.

The accusation alone made me want to strangle myself.

Suicide.

Imagine.

The lady doctor who was switched was nicer and gentler than the gruff male one.

He kept asking why did I take unprescribed pills and why this and why that.

I realise that it’s his job to ask his patients but, damn, if I wasn’t so confused and tired after waking up, I would’ve cried for sure.

On queue Angelo jogs down the stairs, dressed in a white hoodie and grey joggers, talking to somebody over the phone.

For a change, I realised Roman was also in comfort clothing instead of a tailored suit.

Well- plans were made.

“I’ll get these warmed up.” Blaire says jumping down from the couch and gathering the containers to the kitchen.

I palace Coco back on the carpeted floor who yapped walking over to Angelo wagging his tiny tail, held high.

Wow.

“Hey bud.” The man said kneeling to give the mutt an awkward pat on the head before he joined Roman on the couch, exhaling loudly.

“How do you feel?” Roman asked without looking up from his phone, his brow furrowed and fingers tapping away.

“Tight.” Angelo says.

Roman nods without advancing their conversation further.

I suppose it’s because I am present or something, they leave their verbal exchange between the two of them.

Wanting to give them space and privacy for their schmooze, I leave the living room and join Blaire in the kitchen.

“Hey.” I greet the working woman entering the open kitchen and resting my hips against the counter.

“Hey, bub.” She replies. “How the fuck does this work?”

“Press the left clock one.” I say.

“Yeah, it’s working.” Blaire scowls. “Stupid mother fucker.”

I purse my lips at her.

She was cussing at the damn oven.

“How’s you?” I ask picking a bunch of grapes from the fruit bowl along with some other berries and into a sieve.

“Fucking grand.” She mumbles intently watching the oven.

She fought with him again.

“Did you fight with Roman, again?” I ask walking over to the sink with the berries to wash them.

“Yes.” She answers.

“Why?” I ask.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She says. “It’s silly.”

“His fault or yours?” I ask turning the tap off.

“His, of course.” She scoffs.

I nod, getting the fruits transfered into a bowl.

“Whatever, it was my fault.” She rolls her eyes.

“I’m the one with a loud mouth and talks too much without thinking, don’t I?” She adds.

“Sometimes.” I say truthfully.

“I hate the fact that always I have to apologize making myself the immature one in this arrangement.” She says.

I nod.

“Why can’t he be nice to me as well and explain all that stuff to me, when I am making something up in my head.” She yells.

She needs to calm down before the men walk into the kitchen and hears her ranting.

“You and Devil-o ain’t like that.” She rips the oven door open once it pings done.

She has no idea, does she?

“Y’all are cutesy and romantic and homey as fuck.” She hisses.

Oh?

“And he don’t treat you like am unhinged ten year old!”

Okay~

“Alright.” I sigh.

She sighs loudly.

“Calm down.” I say, coming to a halt directly in front of her, placing my hands gently on her shoulders.

“Breathe.” I urge softly.

“In and out.” I say again.

“I’m fine.” She waves the in and out technique off.

“Every relationship-” I begin.

“Arrangement.” I correct myself for her. “Every arrangement, has it’s positives and negatives.”

“Ups and downs.” I shrug.

“And every arrangement is different in it’s own way.” I say as a matter of fact.

“Sometimes you find similarities with another and sometime you don’t.” I say.

“Point is everyone is different, just like every people is different-”

“Yeah.” She scoffs. “Cause you and Angelo has history right? A kid and a miscarriage and all that malarkey.”

Oh.

Her words, even though slightly hurtful, makes me nod.

“Yes.” I say. “That malarkey.”

“Whatever.” Blaire waves the discussion off.

“You had his kid so he cares and cause I’m not perfect and all that bull shit, Roman doesn’t care.”

Well, Roman cares more then he let’s on. I think.

What’s is wrong with you Blaire?

You’re such a lovely human being and then you go act like a crazy fourteen year old having boyfriend drama.

“I’m sure it’s probably nothing like that-”

“You don’t even know the half all this and how this shit began so just-” She sighs.

“Blaire.” I urge gently.

She waves me off. “It’s alright.”

Five second of uncomfortable silence surrounds us.

Ten seconds.

Blaire picks up the heated contents that was on four different plates instead of carry boxes and leaves to the outdoor dining area.

What is wrong with her sometimes? I think as I get a chocolate bar out of the fridge and begin melting half of it to go with the berries.

Maybe I haven’t been that good of a friend to her lately. I think.

I probably haven’t been the friend I should haven been to her, if she’s getting these much self doubts.

Stupid Ariel.

We should, sit down and talk and clear the air. I think.

I’ve been so caught up in my own stupid mess, that forgot that she might be needing her friend in the midst of everything that’s going on more than ever.

Having a girls day, and a heart to heart talk, hopefully will get rid of this bad air between us, or so I hope.

I don’t want to loose Blaire as a friend but I fail to find out where I have wronged her.

Should spend more time with her, I should.

Carrying the melted chocolate and berries to the outside sitting area, I place them on the middle if the table and claim my seat beside Blaire, across from Angelo.

Blaire had really made an effort yo cook like her homeland and made Shepherd’s pie and had grilled sausages, put breads on the sides.

Like she added because she’s such a good cook, the plates were nicely garnished too.

“This is so good.” I say taking my third spoonful of food.

For a person who has survived on thin broth soup and bread and mostly hospital provided food and two bags of saline fluid, the good screams deliciousness.

“Thank you.” Blaire mumbles, still in her off mood, from the kitchen.

The rest of the lunch goes by quietly.

Nobody talks and for desert we eat the grapes and mixed berry with the melted chocolate.

After the dinner was finished, Angelo says he needs to talk to Roman about something and they’ll be in his study.

Blaire and I retreat back to the kitchen with the empty plates.

“Hey Bubbles?” Blaire sighs when I place the plates in the sink.

“Yeah?” I turn to her.

“I’m- I’m sorry Bubbles.” She sighs grabbing both my hands in her.

I frown.

“I don’t know what gets into me these days.” She sighs. “It’s- it’s stupid how I am reacting to everything, I can barely contain my temper and all-”

“Blaire.” I try to hush her. “It’s alright.”

“It’s not.” She argues. “I keep lashing out on you and all you say is alright.”

“Because it is.” I agree. “I haven’t been too good of a friend, have I?”

“You’ve been the best friend.”

I shake my head. “I’m sorry, I was just too caught up in everything that I didn’t give you time to tell your side of the story, bub.”

“I don’t deserve you.” She mumbles abruptly pulling me into a hug.

“It’s alright.” I say rubbing her back. “It’s alright, sweets.”

I feel Blaire nod still embracing me.

“Let’s have a girl’s day.” I prompt. “We can go do whatever you want.”

“Girls day?” She pulls away from our hug.

I nod.

“We can go and get our hair done and get meni-pedi and all.” I smile. “Whatever.”

“I haven’t done my hair in ages-”

“Great.” I say. “We’ll get our hair done.”

Blaire grins and hugs me again.

“You’re precious, Ariel.” She  whispers.

It makes me smile.

“That’s why Devil-o don’t wanna get you go.” She adds. “He’s too much in love with you-”

“Alright.” I stop her patting her back unnecessarily harder.

“Let’s clean up, I’ll make you coffee.” I offer.

Blaire let’s go and busies herself washing the dishes on the sink while I get the espresso machine started.

“Roman and I fought over  baguette.” She volunteers.

“Oh?” I frown. “Blaire, she isn’t relevant-”

“I feel somehow she is.” Blaire argues. “And Pink too.”

“What do you mean?” I chuckle.

“Whats Pink have to do with anything? She’s just a dancer-”

“A dancer with a an unhealthy obsession over Devil-o.” She corrects me.

“Right.” I sigh shaking my head putting an espresso cup in the counter.

“And baguette, also.” Blaire shrugs.

“I’ve been watching those CCTV camera clips everyday.” She says “I think Anne is somehow pawning Pink to get to you, enemy’s enemy friend theory?” She points a sudsy spoon at me.

“Put that away!” I warn. “You’re getting the rug, soiled, Blaire!”

“Jesus.” The woman gives me a mean eye. “Anyway, so I put two two four together and now Roman says I’ve finally  lost it-”

“Don’t mind him.” I say shaking my head.

“I live with him, Bubbles.” She clarifies. “I cannot but mind him. He’s rude.”

I shake my head putting the fourth cup under the coffee spray.

“Anyway, so we bickered for a while and then I got mad and called him names and then he got mad and left for a while and now we aren’t communicating.”

“Right.” I say.

Real mature.

But who am I to say anything?

Mine and Angelo’s case is worse.

At least they fight their problems out.

We either shove them under the rug or fuck it out.

Fighting and yelling is way better than shoving it under the rug, one pretending it never happened and then the other still mourning and living in the past.

“Bubbles?” I hear Blaire’s voice a slight bit louder than before.

“Listening.” I chirp.

“Said if we can get some shopping done?” She asks.

“Sure, I need an upgrade anyway.” I reply.

And I’ve got to see how much I have left to spend.

I still have the apartment so I have to pay this months rent and what not.

Lord.

Blaire and Roman leaves after the afternoon coffee, leaving me and Angelo in our own.

We lay on the grass, facing the olive groove while Coco wanders about, sniffing flowers.

“What are you thinking?” I ask, placing my chin on Angelo’s chest, so I can gaze up at his face.

Lovely face, that is.

“Nothing.” He says, his hand drawing lazy circles on my exposed shoulders.

“Why?” He asks turning his attention from the clear blue, summer afternoon sky to me.

“You’re quiet.” I whisper, my fingers reaching up and tracing the curve of his mouth.

“Quiet?” He laughs. “I’m just usual.”

“I haven’t had you in ages.” I whisper placing my thumb at the centre of his lips.

He pluckers a kiss on the pad of my thumb.

“Ages?” He asks. “It’s been just three days.”

“Just three?” I mock.

“Are you loosing ardour, Capo Bestone?” I giggle.

“I’m not.” He argues with a sigh looking back up at the sky.

“Are you mad at me, then?” I ask.

“No, baby.” He chuckles.

“Then why are you- mmm.” I wrap my arms around his neck as if on instinct as he crashes his lips to mine.

“Goodness.” I mumble against his mouth, feeling the taste of him, mixed with coffee and chocolate.

“You’re exquisite.” He says pushing my hair away from my face using his fingers.

“You are.” I argue.

Shaking his head, he grazes his knuckles on my cheek.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Nothing, baby.” He urges. “I’m just worried about your health.”

I groan.

“The doctor said I’ll be fine-”

“If you mend your ways.”

“Ugh!” I groan dropping my head on the grass.

“I’ll give you three days and if I see slacking, Miss LaRusso, you’re going back to the hospital.”

“Nothing is going to happen in three days, Angelo.” I roll my eyes.

“I want to see you take care of yourself.” He prompts.

“I want you to eat, sleep, dance, do yoga, swim, play with your dog- whatever.” He adds.

“But keep busy and take care of yourself.” He says.

“I will.” I reassure. “I promise, Angelo.”

“I’ll hold you to it.” He says placing a kiss on both of my cheeks.

I smile.

“Now let’s go in, I haven’t had you in ages.” He smirks.

“It’s just been three days.” I mock but get up before him and follow him inside, to our bedroom and loose my self to his consciousness for one whole evening.

And love every second of it.

---

AUTHOR’S

NOTE:

So, I’ll leave y’all to that I suppose. Blaire is acting up again. Smh.

She’s good I promise. A bit crazy.

And all that yeah.

I’m going picnic with my friends. I haven’t seen them since February so-

Yeah.

That’s all.

-November.

30

Ariel fell asleep early being tired and exhausted from our lascivious activities of the evening.

The woman could barley stay awake to eat and take her pills before slumping back to the bed, fast asleep.

It was good, in a way.

I wouldn’t want her up and awake while my paranoia got the best of me.

“Capo Bestone?” Eli’s voice came through the ear piece of my cell phone.

“Eli, I suppose you are ready.”

“Sí, boss.” The man said. “We’re outside, the camera’s are almost in their place.”

“Good job.” I said. “What about the tracing results?”

I looked at the darkened sky of Napoli, while Ariel slept on our bed, soundless.

Exceptionally gloom and dark tonight.

We might get a rain in the morning, if unlucky.

Ariel’s bright yellow bird, soft toy held against her like a pillow as she slept.

Diverting my gaze from the woman who slept soundly, I focused my vision outside.

“I’d talk to you about that, rather face to face, boss.” Eli said.

“I’ll be out.” I replied.

“Sí.”

Pulling a T-shirt above my head and pairing it with jogger’s, I walked out of the bedroom.

Eli was supervising the camera placed around the property.

His tall and lean form clad in an Armani suit for once out of the hideous Adidas track jacket and pants.

“Eli.” I greeted.

“Capo Bestone.” The man nodded handing me a manila envelope.

“These are the call records I found, the call you supervised, traced back to Umbria but the traces vanished there, I suppose it was from a disposable phone or the person has- removed the number, turned it off.”

“Where in Umbria?” I asked opening the envelope.

Typical call record. Barely and incoming and out going call.

Most were to Roman’s old number that now Blaire uses.

“Orvieto.” Eli said with a shrug. “A cheap motel, is where my maps traced but it vanished almost as soon as I got to it.”

“Who is the number registered to?”

“Couldn’t find that out.” He says. “Unregistered.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

“I’ll have someone looking for it even then.” Eli said.

“I need you to do something else as well.”

“Boss.”

“I want evey cigarette butt about the LaRusso’s.” I uttered quietly.

“The LaRusso?” Eli frowned. “LaRusso companies?”

I nodded. “Tip it to Roman, go through him first.”

“The LaRusso’s are from Umbria.” Eli says. “Or so I’ve heard.”

“Get me a file on them, Eli. Umbria or not, I want everything.” I order.

“Of course, boss.” He says. “Would you need anything else?”

“I want you to put a permanent tracing service to Ariel’s sim card.” I say.

“Whatever happens, runs through you first, sí?” I add.

Eli looks hesitant.

“Would- would signora Ariel be compatible with-”

“Security isn’t up for negotiation, Eli.”

“Yes boss.” He nodded. “I report back to the Don when it’s all done.”

“Link the camera’s to Roman’s old computer.” I add.

“Blaire monitors the surveillance.”

Well at least she could give Eli a run for his money.

I would take that to my grave, for the mere satisfaction of not accepting the fact verbally.

“And also rid of any other ways of tracking Ariel’s location apart from ours-”

“That’d be changing her number and register her differently, Capo Bestone.” Eli frowns.

“Then do it.” I say. “It’s nonnegotiable.”

Eli gives a curt nod before leaving.

I return to the bedroom after the whole property was under surveillance.

How I thought things should be kept away from prying eyes. I think, shaking my head.

I was on a state of psychosis , putting the villa under surveillance and putting bugs on Ariel.

Tracing her family.

But the mental satisfaction came when I reasoned that it was for her safety.

Her well being.

Sitting on my side of the bed, I unplugged the laptop from it’s charger, turning the device on.

My eyes fell on Ariel’s small mutt curled up against the foot of the bed.

Obviously waiting for dinner from mama who fell asleep.

“Come on, bud.” I said putting the device in the bed and getting up.

“It’s dinner time.”

As if understanding what I said, the Welsh Corgi followed me out of the bedroom, down the stairs and into the kitchen.

One cabinet was reserved for his food and whatever he ate.

Filling his water bowl and food bowl, I  carried it out of the kitchen, placing both the bowls on the ground, I knelt beside the dog as he begun to lap up the water.

This thing seems to have grown a liking for me. I think, stroking his fur.

Going back and forth, during Ariel’s stay at hospital, I spend some time with him, feeding him when Alberto was on guard.

Sometime he kept me company when Blaire was staying while I got a shut eye.

But this mutt was royalty.

“You need a sibling.” I said absentmindedly.

Coco barked.

“You like the idea, do you?” I ask, scratching the back if his ears.

“Think mama would like that?” I ask. “Hmm?”

The mutt barked again in response as if he understood me.

After Coco was fed and full, he lazily walked back to the bedroom and slumped on his doggie bed.

I’ve seen Ariel countless times putting a blanket over the mutt’s body, so I do too .

Washing my hands in the bathroom, I walk back into the bedroom turning off the lights, given that they bother my woman when she’s sleeping.

I suppose she’s too tired to even care at this point.

Nevertheless, I turn off the light and open my laptop doing some research of my own.

Sleep downs me around after twelve, as I close the laptop and rest my head on the pillow, spooning Ariel, till my senses resolve to darkness and the sweet smell of orange shampoo.

                 __________________

Morning comes before than I anticipated.

Nevertheless, I wake up before Ariel.

She posture the same as the night before, soft snores filling, our almost dark bedroom except the specks of sunlight entering though the slits of the curtain gaps.

The first thing I do is send a text Alberto about a certain pick up before walking into the bathroom.

After I give Coco his breakfast, I  busy myself into making breakfast for the woman sleeping on my bed.

The kitchen was Ariel’s dominating kingdom.

Everything was organised alphabetically with small tags on the containers as labels.

I took out whatever I needed and places them right back in their places, so the woman didn’t loose her mind for it.

Café latte for myself and a full breakfast for Ariel, I re-enter the master suite to find her in the same position I had left her.

Her health was really taking a toll on her.

It was worrying me too much.

I’ve gone to the point to call mama and tell her my worries.

She said iron deficiency was coin and nothing supplements wouldn’t cure.

But I was still worried.

“Sweetheart?” I call sitting at the edge touching her shoulder.

“It’s late.” I call.

“How late?” She asks turning to the other side looking for the covers before pulling them over her body again.

“Nine.” I say. “Wake up, tadpole, I made breakfast.”

“Can I sleep instead?” She asked.

What was the point? I thought.

She was up already anyway.

“No.” I deny, ready to say something but the ping of an incoming text on my phone makes me look at it.

Alberto .

“No, sweetheart.” I prompt. “Get up, I have something to show you.”

“I’ll see it later.” She snaps, the yellow cannery bird forgotten on the floor.

“Ariel.” I warn. “Get up, now”

“Don’t use that tone on me, Giovanni .” She warns.

Silence looms over us.

As much as her tone disappoints me, I let it stay at that.

“Alright, baby.” I sigh. “Get up, breakfast is getting cold and you need to take your medication.”

Ariel cussed in fluent Italian, her Tuscan accent thick.

“Alzarsi presto la mattina.  La mia vita era andata ai cani.” She mumbled coarsely before sitting up straight, clutching the will sheets to her chest.

(Waking up early in the morning. My life has gone to the dogs.)

“What do you have to show me?” She asks barely opening her eyes as she rests her back against the back rest of our bed.

“Breakfast first.” I say putting the wooden tray on her lap.

It contained a bowl of minestrone soup, rolls, two boiled eggs.

“You’re feeding me like I am-” She sighs.

Like she was?

I frown at her half finished sentence.

“Sick.” She shakes her head. “I’m fine.”

“I have developed a trauma to that word, Ariel.” I said. “Eat.”

“Yes, papa.” She mocks rolling her eyes.

Somebody woke up in the sore side of the bed. I think to myself as Ariel puts a spoonful of the soup in her mouth.

“I’m not mad anymore, because this is good.” She says with a mouthful.

“Well, I am glad.” I say with a raised eyebrow, sipping my coffee while Ariel ate her food.

I helped sorting out her meds and watched her struggle to swallow the pills before she got down from the bed and walked into the bathroom, followed by me.

From downstairs, yaps of Coco could be heard along with barks.

I knew Alberto was here, it was clear from his incoming text almost half an hour ago.

I prepared the tub for Ariel, since she didn’t shower or bathe, the day prior.

“Why is Coco barking?” She asks, suspicion laced on her beautiful and equally relaxed feature as she lowers herself into the sudsy bubble bath.

“Probably chasing a fly or something.” I say dismissively, picking up her loofa and helping her wash.

“I can clean myself-” She argues but sighs once I move the loofah in circles around her skin.

“Can I ask you something?” I assert as I move the loofah around her body cleaning her up from the tiredness of her slumber and the hospital smell mixed with the smell of sex.

“What is it?” She asked.

“How come you never talk about your family?” I throw the question out as softly as possible.

She goes silent for a second.

“Why?” She asks turning to face me.

Her relaxed expression now grim.

“You never say a word about them.” I add.

“Why would you ask that all of a sudden?” She frowns shaking her head.

“You’ve met my family.” I argue, squirting more of the grape body soap into the loofah lathering it up.

“A lot of times.” I add.

Ariel gently moves my hand away.

“I’ve never heard about yours.” I add once again.

“That’s because I don’t have one.” She says, her voice firm and rigid.

“What about Andrea LaRusso?” I ask.

Tears swell up in her baby brown eyes at the mentioned name.

“Ariel?” I prompt.

She shakes her head pulling her knees up, elbows resting in her knees as he grabs her hair in fists, shaking her head.

What’s making her react like this?

“Baby?” I ask placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t.” She warns. “Don’t.”

“Alright.” I drop the subject at the protective nature that her self takes up putting up her granite walls around herself all over again.

Ariel finishes her bath, reluctantly letting me wash her and drain the sudsy water before wrapping a plush towel under her arms covering her body.

She wasn’t crying anymore.

In fact she was doing anything not to cry anymore.

She toyed with the ornament holder shaped like a tree on the dressing table for a while, then fingered around her jewelry box for a good five minutes.

I let her cope with her untold misery, taking this time to shower and shave before joining her in the closet.

Twenty minutes later, she was still wearing the towel around her body and over her head.

“Let’s get dressed, shall we?” I asked pulling a blue white stripped romper dress out if the hanger for her, which she accepted and busied herself dressing up.

I pulled a pair of grey silk pajama bottoms with a white T-shirt.

Ariel was still tinkering around her vanity section.

I didn’t know that the topic was so sensitive for her.

In fact, I hadn’t had the slightest idea that this very topic would push her back to whatever she had escaped when she escaped home .

“Ariel?” I called.

I received a humph in response.

She was still deciding jewelry.

I wanted to reach out and tell her that she didn’t need jewelry and that we’ll be staying home.

I wanted to tell her to snap back to the self she was just before I asked about her parents.

But at the same time, I didn’t want to trigger her to a time where we weren’t alright.

We still aren’t alright.

But we’re at least trying instead of fucking .

I don’t want to push her back to the fucking stage of our relationship.

“Baby.” I sigh finally giving into my temptation and reaching for her hand.

Stopping her from tangling up various chains and trying to de-tangle them again.

“Let’s go down.” I prompt. “I have something to show you.”

“What?” She asks, her eyes almost red, showing the effort that my tadpole was trying so hard not to let her tears escape.

Not to cry .

Not to crumble .

“Come down, baby.” I urge with a gentle smile.

She reluctantly agrees to climb down and walk into the back lawn with me.

I let her walk in front of me, admiring her exemplary and exceptional backside in that romper.

I wonder why doesn’t she wear rompers more but stays in sundress?

I wouldn’t trade one for the other but, rompers were as of this moment forth, my favourite piece of clothing on Bubbles.

Apart from lingerie. Obviously.

My woman makes a remarkable show of lingerie when she’s the model of it.

“Stop staring at my ass, Angelo.” She pouts turning her head to see me frozen three steps behind her.

I smirk. “That is one fine ass.”

“I know.” She winks.

I shake my head at her sudden playfulness.

We walk out in the garden through the screen door of the pool room.

“What’s it you wanted to show me?” She asks crouching down to tend to a yapping Coco who comes running.

I smirk at Coco’s reaction.

Almost a second or two later a powerful yet playful bark echoes through our property.

“Jesus!” Ariel jumps holding Coco and standing up.

The bark echoes again.

And again .

And again , until a black-brown furred German Shepherd puppy runs into view from the olive groove.

“Lord!” Ariel gasps.

But I am not sure it’s a happy gasp or what the fuck, Angelo gasp.

Ariel crouches again, letting Coco out of her clutch making home for the slightly bigger puppy.

“Awe.” She cooed. “Baby.”

Thank God.

A sigh of relief leaves me.

“You’re so perfect, baby.” She cooed, raking a hand through the pup’s well cared fur and scratching him behind the ears.

“Yes.” She said. “You like that, huh?”

Coco barks, moving Ariel’s attention to him, as she let’s the bigger pup go to put the smaller pup on her lap.

I crouch beside Ariel, scratching the German Shepherd behind his other ear.

The mutt barks happily.

“Awe.” Ariel cooes. “What’s his name?”

The estate has a lot of guard dogs.

They don’t usually get to start training until they are one year old, this was one of the ten month old pups, that estate had.

They had codes for every dog but not a name.

“He doesn’t have one.” I say.

“I thought you’d like to name him.” I add.

Ariel nods, her mood visibly lifted from our conversation in the bathroom.

And for that I was thankful .

“What do we call him then?” She ask putting Coco on the grass as the much smaller mutt barks at the larger ones than runs off.

I shrug. “Whatever you want.”

“ Poodle .“ Ariel announces with a giggle and shimmies herself closer to me, so we sit almost snuggled on the grass.

“It was such a lovely surprise, Angelo.” She says resting her head on my left pectoral.

“Was it?” I ask. “I thought Coco was getting lonely.”

“I suppose.” She sighs. “Look at him run, though.”

Ariel gives put a snorty laugh  watching both the dogs run about the orchard.

“He needs to exercise.” I say. “He was getting fat anyways.”

“You’re so mean.” She laughs.

It’s a darling laugh.

The dogs run back at our direction.

“Poodle!” Ariel yells for the bigger dog.

“ Poodle !“ Ariel yells again as the dog chases Coco with a determination.

Seems like he doesn’t like his new name.

Shaking her head, Ariel turns her attention back to me.

“Why did you ask me about them?” She asks out of the blue.

Even though I had her undivided attention.

She paid more heed to the grasses on our lawn than me.

“Curiosity, sweetheart.”

“Just like that?” She asks.

“Hmm.”

And possibly because your family is trying to contact you.

But you’re still running and hiding .

Possibly protecting yourself.

Whatever the reason is, they maybe looking for their girl and you’re hiding .

I can’t let them get to you, until I know why you ran in the first place.

“I ran from home when I was sixteen.” She volunteers in a mumble, twisting a blade of sharp green grass between her fingers.

I wrap an arm around her  protectively.

Urging her to go on, if she wants to.

“Mama- she-” She hesitates.

“Mama was- is a very determined and career driven woman. She was pushy. Always. But she wasn’t a mama.”

Ariel shrugs. “She was very pushy- since I was five, she hired etiquette teachers to ’ build ’ me up to be a respectable lady and not some street girl, as she often referred to as…that’s how I got acquainted with ballet.”

“She only acted a mother when I danced on bigger stages. The bigger the stage, the better daughter I was, so I pushed and pushed myself till I couldn’t and ran.”

“My papa was somewhat okay, but he was always busy, he seldom had time to spend but whatever time he spend he made it somewhat special but he too is like my mother. Career driven and ambitious.” Ariel sighs.

“That’s all.” She whispers. “I have nothing more to say.”

“Have you ever tried to contact them?” I ask gently.

I needed the information from her before Eli put the file on my desk.

If I was investigating her parents, I’d rather she has the slight idea that I was looking into the matter.

She shakes her head. “And neither do I want to.”

I frown.

Her childhood no doubtbhas been different than mine.

Sixteen years old, and she ran from home.

Sixteen years old, I came home with busted knuckles and sat on the toilet chair while Lorenzo tended my wounds and my mother cried.

But if not contacting her family is what she wants, that is what she will get.

I wouldn’t intervene in this matter, anymore.

Not actively at least.

“I don’t want to vent over spilled milk, Angelo.” She says wiping under her eyes.

“I have everybody that I love with me and I wouldn’t want anymore.” She says with a smile.

But I can tell it hurts her.

The discussion matter of her family troubles her.

More than she let’s on.

There is more to her story than she is telling.

Than she is willing to yell.

I don’t press her anymore.

Recently being back from the hospital was bad enough of a stress without this adding more to her tension.

“I suppose we have to go supply shopping.” I change the subject matter of our conversation.

It will lighten her mood.

“Oh?” She frowns.

“Poodle, doesn’t have anything.” I point out.

It’s such a strange name of a Shepherd.

Was it going to point that out? No.

“Coco has extra in the storage.” She shrugs. “I’ll print out Poodle’s name on a label.”

“Lovely.” I say.

Ariel urges me to lay down in the grass as she makes herself home beside me, her cheek pressed to my left pectoral.

“When do you go back to work?” She asks, one arm loosely thrown over my waist.

“Tomorrow.” I reply.

I have slacked back enough on Roman.

Successfully placed, all the weight on his shoulder, so anymore slacking on my part is unacceptable .

And selfish .

I don’t want to kill him with the pressure of work and new addition of my father’s baggage added to my name.

“That’s early.” She crinkles up her nose.

“It’s not.” I say. “And you will be busy as well.”

“How so?” She looks up, a confused look on her face.

“You’re starting therapy tomorrow.” I disclose.

“I talked to a therapist She’s a good friend of Roman’s and she’s agreed to have a session with you once a week-”

“Aren’t you supposed to negotiate with me?” She narrows her eyes and huffs, dropping her head on my chest.

“This is not up for negotiations, Ariel.” I say sternly, fingers massaging her scalp.

“Whatever.” She mumbles. “What if I don’t like her?”

“Then we change.” I say. “But you do have to try.”

“Humph.”

“We agreed on trying, baby.” I say.

“Fine.” She whines.

“Good.” I place a kiss on her head.

“But in exchange I want lunch with you tomorrow.” She snaps.

Brat .

“Sure, sweetheart.” I agree.

But whatever gets her better, right?

Anything for her.

“Coco!” She yells suddenly sitting up.

“Don’t bite Poodle, you bad doggie!” She yells running toward the dogs where both of them were rolling.

“Jesus!” She yells. “No. Coco.”

“Poodle!” She angrily huffs. “Don’t fight!”

There we go.

I roll my eyes tucking hands behind my back, looking up at the bright sunlit sky above me, ignore the barks and Ariel’s somewhat angry yells that echoes thought the lawn.

Minutes later I feel Bubbles’ presence beside me, she curls up silently against my body.

A sudden feeling of calm affection rushing over me.

I smile shaking my head.

____________________________________AUTHOR’S NOTE:

I feel this was a calm enough and sweet chapter for an Angelo pov.

Men needs calm and sweet too. Just saying. Anyways so~

What do you think Ariel is hiding about her family?

Is that really her patents calling?

Hmm~

Let me know if I’ve disappointed y’all again with my stupid writing😖😖

-November.

31

“I’d like to have an audience with signore, Angelo Giovanni.” I said to the receptionist at the front desk.

She was a women in her early PR mid twenties, dressed in a handsome suit outfit and had smiled at me when I walked in here.

Her smile, had vanished as soon as I mentioned Angel’s name.

“Signore Giovanni is in an impromptu meeting , right now.” She said, her friendly tone switched to professional and somewhat arrogant at this point.

“Sure.” I said. “I’ll wait in the lobby if you can inform me-”

“Signore Giovanni will be busy until after lunch and throughout the day, miss.” She said dismissively not letting me finish my sentence.

I sighed.

She needed to let me finish when I am talking.

It aggravates me, being cut out while I am speaking and stating my fact.

“I am here for the lunch meeting.” I clarify.

“So, do inform me when your boss is free.” I add, switching my tone from a friendly to a not so friendly one.

“I would need your name, miss.” The woman, a year or so older than me asks.

“Ariel LaRusso.” I stated, watching the person across from me type the name on the computer.

“You are not on the visitor or meeting list today or this week, for signore Giovanni .” She said.

Her voice that of an accomplishment.

Why do people have to be like this?

“He doesn’t really like unwanted visitor.” She said with a look of judgement in her eyes.

I was just back from the therapy.

My head was a mess from all that I had talked to the therapist about.

Not to get anything wrong, the women was super amazing and kind and friendly.

She was understanding and not what I imagined.

I had imagined a women in her late fifties, judgement in her eyes who would constantly shake her head as she heard my life story.

It was quite the contrary.

She was almost in her thirties, short hair, dressed friendly, holding compassion and understanding in her eyes.

She guided me through over a cup of sweet lemon tea as we talked from the beginning.

By the termination of our two hour session, there were tears leaking out of my eyes, emotions were all over the place.

And yet we just talked about a small section of whatever that was my life.

The woman Dr, Mario who I had been introduced to as Genevra, her first name, said, it was alright.

She said it was better out than in and then she offered me some candies that was for younger patients.

I gladly accepted.

But my emotions was still all over the place.

My childhood isn’t a place I visit every other day.

Neither do I end up crying like a five year old whose mama won’t pay her attention.

Well- maybe sometimes I do.

Not always and not in front of a woman I barely know.

“I think you ought to call his personal assistant for that.” I reply, with a smile.

Why can’t she just call him and confirm?

I thought Angelo like always will be in the club.

Where we could enjoy our lunch in private and peace.

“Or Mister Giovanni himself, ought you not?” I ask again.

Woman, take the hint and call the man, for God’s sake.

“As I said, you are not on the boss’s-”

You know what? I will just call him and get myself a fucking visitor’s appointment.

Fuck this, company policy or whatever the fuck.

I held up a hand to silence her.

“It’s alright.” I said to the lady, taking out my phone, dialing Angelo’s cell.

“Tadpole?” The man spoke from the other end, sounding slight off the rack.

“Hey.” I whispered. “Do you- uh- maybe want to come and get me?”

“Are you downstairs?” He asked, I heard shuffling of pages from the other end alongside his voice.

“Sí.” I replied. “I brought Thai food.”

“Alright.” He chuckles. “Twenty in the lift. 4597 is the code, darling. Come on up.”

“Sure.” I say biting the inside of my cheek. “I’ll see you in a minute?”

“Sí, sweetheart.”

I end the call putting the device into my purse and pick up the food bag from the floor, turning to the receptionist.

“Mister Giovanni will be expecting me, if you will.” I said.

“I have an appointment now.” I add.

“Sure, miss.” The lady says. “Let me confirm it with his PA and I will rt you through.” She says.

“Sure.” I say.

The last whose name I didn’t know used a wired telephone to call Angelo’s PA and answered him or her with eye rolls.

“The twentieth floor, miss.” The receptionist said gesturing me toward a lift.

I unquestionably detest people, judging the other by the mare visual of their appearance or their dress code.

I was looking like a mess, I wouldn’t say other wise.

I had a sundress on with my regular flat sandals, my hair was on a low pony, it was super sunny outside, I was feeling hot on top just had an emotional episode.

Forgive me, if I didn’t know I would be in presence of an extremely professional critique who would question my life chooses with just a look at me and my sundress.

It’s not that I purposefully dressed up like this.

I wasn’t expecting to be in a posh place.

And I swear to Dio, I didn’t look as- as like this when I got out of the house in the morning.

I am not sure that Angelo wouldn’t complain.

I am pretty sure he would be disappointed at my appearance as well.

But I didn’t feel like going home and taking a second shower and getting dressed and picking up the food and get here.

The lift halted on the twentieth floor asking for the code that was required for the said floor.

I put the code in and the door of the lift opened, letting the scene of white and gold detailed hallway open in front of my eye.

Stepping out of the elevator I found a desk at the right, occupied by yet another lady dressed amply.

There was a double door at the end of the somewhat short hallway, and figured it would be the office, Angelo occupied.

“Excuse me?” I called out for the lady in a beige suit, minding her own business.

Hearing my voice, she looked up.

“Miss LaRusso, I presume?” The woman smiled.

I gave her a nod.

“This way.” The lady said getting up from her chair and crossing the length of the hallway.

Her pencil thin high heels clicking against the marble slab that was the floor as I followed behind her.

“Some office you have, signore Giovanni.” I teased the man seated behind an oak office desk.

The lady had left us alone after I entered through the doors and she closed them behind her, seeing herself out in the process.

A lingering smile grazed his lips.

“I am delighted it dazzled you, tadpole.” He said, with half a smirk.

“Dazzled is a fancy word.” I said putting the food bag on his desk and taking a seat on the visitors chair.

“It didn’t dazzle me.” I say.

It pretty much made me want to go home and bury myself in ice cream.

Ariel doesn’t feel pretty today.

“How was therapy?” He asks as I take out the, food container that the Thai place packed according to order.

“It was good.” I said.

“How do you feel?” He asks, his look toward me calculating.

As if he were trying to read me with his eyes.

“Hungry.” I answer his question. “Can we eat?”

I feel, discussing therapy with Angelo isn’t something I should be doing.

Well-

it’s not that I shouldn’t be doing or should be doing.

I just don’t want to.

“Sure.” He says pulling a container toward him.

“I got us a lunch menu.” I say apologetically.

“It’s all fine.” He says picking up a plastic spoon that came with the lunch box and opens the lid.

“So- are we talking about your therapy at all?” He asks.

“Uh-no.” I say, taking a spoonful of fried rice with prawn and lemon grass.

Yummy .

“Not at all?” He asks.

“Not at all.” I reply. “Therapy is supposed to be personal.”

He raises an eyebrow at me.

“There is nothing personal between you and I.” He says.

“It would appear that there is, signore Giovanni.” I say offering him a spoonful of fried rice.

He accepts my offered morsel gladly, leaning over the table.

“What’s there to be personal, tadpole?” He asks after swallowing his food.

“You can talk to me about anything, Ariel.” He adds.

“I know.” I reply. “As much as I would like to confide in you, I- I would rather something- stays where it is.” I add.

He gauges my answer carefully, before nodding his head.

“Alright.” Angelo says. “If you insist so, but do remember if you ever want to share- I have an open ear.”

Smiling I nod, reaching for his ringed hand.

“Are you mad at me?” I asked timidly.

“No.” He says. “I am not mad at you, Ariel.”

I give him a half smile.

His answer doesn’t satiate me.

As much as I would like to believe that he isn’t hurt or mad at my response to his question, equally I suppose-

The man is upset at my response.

He might feel shut out and pushed away from what I am dealing with.

But it’s the point exactly, isn’t it?

I am not dealing with anything.

Whatever happened, has a happened a long time ago.

Whatever happened, it did and I am done with it.

I don’t feel that Angelo needs to know about certain events of my life that would make me appear as a damsel.

And he would continue treating me like glass.

I don’t want that.

I don’t want to feel as if I were different and fragile.

Someone brittle, who can have a breakdown whenever.

I am not someone who has a breakdown whenever.

I don’t want to be that.

And for him not to treat me that way, it’s better that he didn’t know what happened.

In all honesty, I don’t want to go there.

Not for another ten years.

Maybe more.

It’s better that the hatchet it hurried.

For God knows who it stabs when it comes out.

“I’m worried about you, baby.” He says.

I frown.

“About us.” He adds.

“What about us?” I ask.

I thought we were doing fine.

“About us, that our food is getting cold.” He changes the subject, picking up his spoon.

Well, I suppose I am not getting to know what signore Giovanni is worried about regarding us

“Right.” I chuckle picking up mine and resuming to eat.

In silence.

The door of the office room opens, invading our privacy.

As I turn to look at the person who didn’t knock while letting himself in.

The only person who would do that-

The only person who can do that is Roman.

And it wasn’t Roman who came into the room.

It was the lady from reception desk downstairs.

“Afternoon, signore Giovanni.” She said sweetly.

“Good afternoon, Christina.” Angelo replied.

“To what do I owe your impromptu visit?” Angelo asks looking up at the woman clad in a dark maroon suit set with heels.

“The desk just revived a letter addressed to your name.” She purred placing a white airmail envelope on top of the desk surface, information side down.

“I reckoned it would be best directly delivered to you.” She said.

“Thank you, Christiana.” Angelo said.

Christina nods, happy for being praised.

His face showing the obvious vexation, upon being disturbed on his personal time.

“Next, time a letter comes by, you run it through Irina.” He says. “And knock, before you enter.”

“Yes, sir.” She replies.

Whatever .

“You may leave.” Angelo says.

“Yes, sir.”

Miss Christina the receptionist lingers about ten more seconds in the room before seeing herself out and closing the door behind her.

Angelo sighs leaning his head back in the backrest of the office chair.

I let the matter slide, watching Angel’s reaction.

There was no doubt that the man sitting before me was attractive.

As much as his dark eyes and hair complimented his outer looks, the way he carried himself added more to that beauty that God had bestowed him with.

Women were drawn to him.

I knew that.

Just like them I was and still am drawn to him.

There is nothing I can do to make people around me and him to stop being attracted to him.

That’s just stupid to even think about.

“What are you thinking about?” Angelo asks.

Taking his hand off mine to pick up the letter that Christina left on the desk.

“Nothing.” I reply.

“Where is the dust bin?” I ask gathering the empty food container on the bag that they came in.

Angelo takes the bag from my hand and puts it under his desk.

Hopefully in a dustbin. I expect.

“Let me get you coffee.” Angelo asks. “Or is it ice cream that you would like?”

“Neither.” I reply with a shrug.

“Cold chocolate milk?” He asks with a smirk. “You like that, don’t you?”

I nod.

He presses a button on the office phone giving orders for a chocolate milk and two shots of espresso.

“How was your day so far?” I asked, sliding my feet off the sandal and putting my legs up on the chair, I was occupying.

“Boring.” He replies, opening the sealed envelope using a mini combat knife.

Who does that?

Why does he even have a combat knife here ?

“I didn’t know you worked in an office.” I said wrapping my arms around my knees resting my cheek on top of them.

“So I was rather shocked when Bertie stopped here.” I add.

“I’ve got to do something.” He says.

“You do more than something, Angelo.” I reply.

“Now, tadpole.” He says. “I cannot go around telling people that I am a mob guy, can I?”

I shrug.

“It will be the rupture of the most revered rule of the family.” He chuckles.

“The company is Lorenzo’s.” He volunteers.

I nod. “That’s nice.”

“Is it?” He asks with a raised eyebrow.

“I like you better at the club.” I shrug.

“I like you better in my bed.” He says with a smirk.

“Flattery would only get you so far, Signore.” I tease.

“Far is only where we need to go, tadpole.” He says opening the envelope.

Angelo takes out a stack of folded papers from inside the envelope.

His expression changes instantly.

The somewhat calm and contained yet satiated demeanour of his shook.

It turned somewhat sour.

Like he had a bottle of pickle juice all at once.

“What’s wrong?” I ask watching the change of his guise.

“Nothing, sweetheart.” Angelo says flipping the pinned pages, a frenzied look plastered on his face.

There has to be something that had got him look so distraught and upset in the first place. I think.

If it was nothing, he would have thrown the letter on the drawer and called it a day.

Something in that letter was defiantly upsetting.

“You look like you ate something funny.” I mumble.

Angelo laughs shaking his head and places the stack of pages in his drawer, taking a box of something out in the process.

He slides the box toward me.

I frown at the mobile company logo.

“A phone?” I ask.

“Sí.” He replies.

“What for?” I ask, a pout resting on my lips as I reach out to open the box finding a white sleek device inside.

He shrugs. “No reason.”

“A gift?” I ask raising an eyebrow.

“Yes.” He replies. “A gift.”

“Thank you.” I thank and turn on the device to find a photo of me and Angelo on the lock screen.

No way.

My lock screen is for Blaire only .

My love.

“Thank you, Angelo.” I say looking up at him.

Self reproach fills me thinking how he is the only one buying this and that every other day as a token or gift.

I barely give him anything or do anything that is thoughtful.

What can you give a man who already has everything? I think.

Small tokens to remind him that he isn’t the only one in this arrangement trying. My conscience answers almost immediately.

Mentally I agree with the little voice in my head.

“Where are you lost?” Angelo asks making me look at him.

He was dressed in a pinstriped navy blue suit with white shirt, looking exceptionally well groomed.

“Nowhere.” I say.

On queue there is a knock on the door.

“Come in.” Angelo yells for whoever is behind the closed doors.

The woman occupying the reception on this floor enters the room, a small tray in her hand.

“Grazie, Irina.” Angelo says as she places the tray of coffee and chocolate milk in the desk.

“You’re welcome signore.” She says with a nod of her head.

Angelo dismisses her with a nod.

After Irina leaves I take the carton of chocolate milk and poke the aluminum covered opening with the straw.

“These are kids milk.” I say with a giggle as I bring the container up and use the straw to take a sip.

Angelo chuckles picking up his coffee.

“Are you going to be home for dinner?” I ask placing the milk carton on the desk, looking hopefully at Angelo.

“I might be late.” He says. “I have to attend something with Roman.”

I wonder .

I nod. “Is there something particular you’d like for dinner?” I ask.

“Hmm.” Angelo bites the inside of his cheek, thinking.

“Well?” I prompt.

“I haven’t had ravioli in a while.” He says. “With a simple salad.”

I grin.

“Awfully happy over a dinner menu.” He comments.

“What do you have up your sleeve, tadpole?” He asks.

“Oh- just dinner.” I nod finishing the rest of my chocolate milk.

It was almost the end of lunch hour.

Meant I had to get up and leave.

I got up from the chair, rounding the length to walk toward Angelo.

He turned his chair to an angle so I could take a seat on his thigh.

I did.

His hand landed on my hips.

I placed my lips lightly against his, taking my time, giving his mouth tiny little kisses of gratitude.

For being understanding when I didn’t want to talk about therapy.

And for the phone that definitely had a better camera quality.

“Thank you for the gift.” I whispered against his mouth, my fingers tracing the line of his cupid bow.

“You’re welcome.” He says his hand sliding up from my behind to my back cupping the back of my head, connecting his mouth with mine again.

I giggle into the kiss, wrapping my arms around his neck, as our mouth dances in unison.

“I’ll see you at dinner.” Angelo promised when I stood outside the office building waiting for Bertie to pull up with the car.

“You better.” I warned as the black car came into view.

I gave Angelo a kiss on the mouth before opening the door, meeting with the sound of the dogs barking.

“Settle down.” I prompted but both were excited to get out at the sight of Angelo.

“No.” I pulled Coco by the collar and dumped him on the seat. “Papa got work.”

“Bye.” I waved to Angelo closing the door.

Angelo nodded, his hands shoved into his pocket.

“Can we drive by the market place, Bertie?” I ask my friend.

“Sure.” He says.

“Coco seems more active today.” He says while we drive toward the open air market for dinner ingredients.

“He does.” I say as Poodle climbs up to my lap, curling.

Coco barks.

Rivalry where you at? I think.

After I buy the much needed ingredients from the market, Bertie drives us toward the house.

The farmer’s market place is put of the way from the house so it was a bit extra drive.

But I wanted those fresh meat instead of supermarket ones wrapped in plastic.

Plastic wrap gives me anxiety.

I was fairly calm and happy after doing some shopping from the market.

Along with the groceries, I got a crystal decanter for the dining table with matching pitcher. A set of four whiskey glass and four water goblets, making it a matching center piece set.

To my defense, those were fair priced and I had some cash to spare.

I like to spend. Prosecute me.

Shaking my head, I checked my old phone to transfer the photos and numbers to the new phone so I don’t miss out on anything.

It was taking too long to get to home.

The dogs were being frantic with the barking and nipping with each other.

The device rings as soon as I unlock the screen.

“Hello?” I ask, patting Coco’s head as he nuzzles Poodle.

“Hello precious.” I hear a voice.

I-

“Remember me?” The voice asks again. A certain mocking tone grabbing his voice.

“What do you want?” I asked, my tone harsh.

“What I wanted all those years ago, Ariel.” The voice speaks. “And you know it, too.”

“Call me again, I’ll kill you.” I hissed disconnecting the call.

“Who was that?” Bertie asks as I stare on my phone screen.

Fuck.

It can’t be happening.

“Pranksters.” I lie. “Kids these days.”

Bertie doesn’t answer.

We stop in front of a bakery after I tell Bertie that I need some bread and rolls for the next days breakfast.

I do my purchase of a bread loaf and rolls before leaving my old phone on the dustbin outside the bakery.

Kill me, if that bastard gets to me again.

“Home?” Bertie asks.

“Sí.” I reply faking a cheerful smile.

I guess I have to copy the photos from the cl

oud

.

---

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Hi, y’all! I am back again. To annoy y’all. Yes.

So- so, I’ve been offline for a while from writing and all that.

I had a minor injury on my right hand. It’s all okay now.

But whatever physical pain doesn’t hurt much compared to the mental pain.

I’ve suffered some of the most stupid emotional blows in the last couple of days. So, I thought it was time I gathered myself up and placed everything where it was supposed to be.

I am okay now, physically and emotionally.

The news says the viral outbreak is giving a second wave. So- wash your hands. Please. Wear a mask.

Keep yourself safe and help keeping others safe.

Love y’all.

November.

PS: do y’all like the chapter?

32

---

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Y’all, just to say that I’ve been away from writing for a while due to some emotional or mental issues and whatever

I’ll let y’all go to the story now without elongating my sob story any further.

Enjoy.

---

“Hold on, Ariel.” He had said. “I’ll just take some pictures of you.”

I didn’t know what he meant when he said that.

I had partied too hard and too loud last night, I was overly intoxicated and drunk to even do anything.

To even respond to anything really.

I was too tired.

I have been seeing him for sometime now. He appeared nice for a while before he became obsessed and possessive, that is.

“What photos?” I asked rolling over on my stomach, feeling the headache from the last night’s alcohol consumption.

Should totally cut back, I should.

“A few photos, precious.” He had said.

He wasn’t drunk . Neither was he high on the supplied ecstasy.

I suppose he ,should be drunk given that he

was

the one arranging the alcohol and ecstasy.

“I’m not in the mood.” I say pulling my cheap blanket over my naked self, hiding from him and his camera lenses.

I don’t want him to take photos of me.

I don’t want my self in his camera.

“Get away.” I snapped at the older guy, who was hovering over me, my petite body between his legs.

“Don’t be like that.” He urged. “It’s just some photographs, Ariel.”

“Leave.” I snarled, my face still away from his.

He chuckled, I could feel him shaking his head as he did so.

“Did you not hear?” I asked. “Leave.”

“It’s my house.” He said. “I don’t leave.”

“Fine.” I said getting up, the blanket still clutched to my chest. “Then I will leave-”

I was so done with this anyway .

“And where would you go?” He asked, his expression morphed into an ugly one as he raised and eyebrow at me.

The camera in his hand.

He knew he had the upper hand in all of this.

I was a homeless eighteen year old girl, living with a twenty year old guy.

Who I barely even knew.

“I would go wherever the fuck I want.” I snapped at his face scampering down from the bed, quickly pulling up the dress I discarded the night before.

“You are not leaving, you little bitch.” He hissed.

“Oh, I am alright.” I said not bothering to look at him, crossing the space between the bed and the small wardrobe where my belongings were in a duffel bag.

Like I said. Homeless.

“I said you aren’t leaving!” He yelled, grabbing my upper arm in a vicelike hold.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Listen here, you whore-” He hissed.

His face too close to mine. “You owe me, I picked you up from the streets and I gave you food and bed and you will repay me-”

I rolled my eyes. “Never asked you to pick me up from Becca’s place did I?”

He talks to me as if I were a dog.

Picking me up from the street?

I sure as hell wasn’t living in the streets.

“Don’t get smart with me.” He said, his other hand grabbing my jaw to keep my face trained on his. “I will fucking ruin you, bitch.”

“Go on.” I gritted out inspire of my jaw held like an animal’s.

I am not letting this bastard have the upper hand.

I am so done with all his bullshit.

“Yeah?” He asked, his breath hitting my face, my expression scrunching up at anger as he pushes me toward the bed.

I stagger and sit down on the cheap hard mattress.

Fuck.

He walks toward me, face scrunched up in a predator smirk, turning it ugly like a monster from the pandemonium.

                         ***

I sit up on the bed alarmed , my breathing laboured from the obvious and detailed flashback.

Placing a palm on my forehead, I looked around.

There was no cream and green wallpapers on the wall, neither the windows were covered with mint cotton blinds.

The mattress wasn’t hard neither was there any smell of cheap cigarettes in the air.

The crisp morning air rushed inside the bedroom from the open windows.

Goodness.

I was in the safe heaven of my own bedroom, laying on of my luxurious circle bed, the silver silk sheets pulled up to my chest.

“Jesus Christ.” I sighed uttering a prayer silently, realising that I was home, away from all the danger.

What can he do anyway? I thought.

It’s not like the bastard can waltz into the house and act like a bastard that he is and was in the past.

He can do nothing. I reassure myself.

Just like he couldn’t do nothing back then.

I remember kicking him on his nuts, with all the strength that my small body could muster, before bolting out of the apartment.

My duffle bag my only companion.

After I had left that wretched complex, I discarded my phone and got on a bus to Rome.

And then to Naples where I got the job at the ballet school and then after twenty, I joined Minx.

Taking some more deep and long breaths to clear my senses and the unreasonable paranoia building inside me, I picked up my phone.

The time read eleven thirty.

The events if yesterday, still kept me startled.

Out of all the things, a call from him wasn’t what I was expecting.

And so, worried and paranoid to my core, the dinner went as bland as mud.

Angelo was adamant to know the reason behind my dampened mood but gave up once I said, I wasn’t feeling well.

There was a missed call from Angelo, two text messages from Blaire.

“ Wanna go to the parlour?“ She wrote in the first text.

“ Nvm

, I’m just coming over to your place, anyway.“ She wrote in the second text with a middle finger emoji.

In queue my phone vibrated on my hand indicating Blaire’s cell calling.

Minx .

“Hey, Bubbles!” She yelled from the other end.

“Hey.” I said, examining my paint chipped fingernails. “I just got your text.”

“I heard Devil-o got a new doggie for y’all.” She said. “I want to come over and meet him.”

“Sure, hon.” I said with a yawn. “Let me know when you are coming over.”

“Oh, I’ll be there in like ten minutes max.” She said.

“And I will meet the doggie and we can go out for hair and a facial.”

How is she so energetic already? I think.

“Sure.” I said.

“Thank God.” She sighed. “I was almost stuck with Coralyn, she’s one nutter I tell you, she keeps interrogating me over her Cook book, She’ll will kill me one of these days-”

“Well you did steal it-” I argue.

“Borrowed the damn thing, bubbles. Borrowed-”

“Without permission.” I add.

“Come on now!” She whined. I could almost see her rolling her eyes.

“You are supposed to have my back, bubbles!” She hissed.

“Just come on!” I said getting from from bed, slipping my feet into the fur slippers. “Get your ass over here real quick, you nutter.”

“Roger that.” She said.

“Also, fix me something to eat will ya?” She asked before disconnecting the call.

Crazy woman. I think while pulling on my robe and exiting the room.

“Coco!” I yell for the mutt as soon as I walk downstairs.

The places they wonder off. Thinking I shake my head.

“Poodle!” I yelled.

“Coco! Poodle!” I yelled entering into the kitchen, filling their water bowls and food bowls brining them out in the front garden, hearing their yaps in distance.

“Coco!” I yell. “Poodle!”

Both the mutts, run toward the displayed food at the bottom stair as they start to lap up water.

I pat both their heads, before snapping a picture of them eating like starved little doggies, that they were.

I send the picture to Angelo with three heart emojis and sit myself down on the stairs.

Done like said, Blaire was here in ten minutes while I was still sitting on the stairs watching the dogs play about in the garden.

I was supposed to make her breakfast.

“It’s a Shepherd.” She stated taking a look at Poodle.

I nodded.

“I thought you got another corgi so Coco can, you know-”

“Blaire!” I shook my head at her hint.

“What?” She snorted. “He’s a dog.”

“He’s neutered.” I inform.

Coco was neutered long before I adopted him from the shelter.

Shaking her head at obvious disappointment she sits down beside me.

Blaire was dressed in jeans and a top, the tight denim showed off her long legs proudly and hugged her shapely hips like a glove.

“Did you make something for me?” She asked. “Fucking hungry I am.”

Shit .

“There is a breakfast joint two minutes away.” I say.

I mean, I’ve seen the shop and it’s always packed. I wonder what they have at almost eleven thirty in the morning.

“You didn’t make me no food?” She pouts.

“Sorry, hon.” I say apologetically. “I just got up, it wasn’t a pleasant night-”

“Awe.” Blaire pokes my side.

“Devil-o didn’t give you that, that?” She sing songs in a teasing tone with a smirk

“Your mind is filthy.” I say.

“Rotten.” Blaire agrees.

I shake my head.

“Let’s grab an early early lunch today.” Blaire suggests, patting Poodle on the head who came to me, rubbing his tiny face against my leg.

“Let’s.” I agree.

“And then we can go to the parlour.” She yawns. “And look all pretty for Alyssa’s big day.”

I nodded in agreement.

In all of mess, I had almost forgotten about it.

Donna Coralyn had talked to one of her friends who had a planner company of sort, and she or he was taking care of it.

She said so her self in the hospital. But back then we had a week left to Alyssa’s wedding.

It being Tuesday today, Saturday wasn’t very far.

The guest list went up but people were taking care of it. So Donna Coralyn said.

“Sit back and look pretty for me.” Alyssa had told me while I felt sad that I got sick in such a time.

“I have the photo of the cake’s sketch.” Blaire said showing me her phone.

“Looks good.” I said looking at the three tiered cake especially ordered for Alyssa’s grand day.

“And Alyssa told you to pick out a dress while we are out.”

“Did you pick out a dress?” I asked.

Blaire shrugs. “I wasn’t bout to pick out a dress without you, woman.”

I laughed.

“Plus we are meeting them at the spa.” She added. “Let’s hurry and get some food.”

I nodded and told her that I’ll get ready real quick.

Blaire and I ended up going to the lunch joint for a quick hamburger and fries date for our early lunch and then meet up Coralyn and Alyssa for the spa.

To be honest, it felt good to sit down on an over stuffed chair and have someone work on your nails and toes once in a while.

I was the sort of person who neither wants or likes people poking and prodding on my skin or body to make me look good.

But it’s been so long, I’ve been into a parlour. Even for a facial .

“How are you these days?” Alyssa asks from beside me, sitting on a chair as a girl works on giving her a facial.

“Good.” I say. “How are you?” I asked.

“Good.” She nods.

“You excited?” I ask.

Alyssa laughed shaking her head, earning a sound of annoyance from the massager.

Oops.

“There is hardly anything to be exited about. We aren’t young anymore. We’ve seen pretty much everything together-”

“You’ve been with the man for almost thirty years.” I point put. “It takes guts to do so, without a marriage and agreement, I mean.”

Alyssa shrugs. “When you know you know.”

There was a hint of adoration in Alyssa’s sentence.

“I hear you started therapy.” She says.

I nod with a sigh.

“I know Genevra.” She says. “She’s good people.”

“I suppose she is nice, yes.” I reply.

Alyssa nods.

“You’re a strong girl, Ariel.” She says patting my hand that rested on the arm rest of the chair.

“A lovely free soul.” She adds.

I flush at her words, but sty silent, hearing her go on.

“And you’re good for my boy. It’s thrilling to see Angelo act like he does around you, you’re too good for him.”

At a loss for words I pat her hand with my free one.

I doubt I’ve changed Angelo in any way. He is still the Capo Bestone Giovanni I knew from Minx.

But I wouldn’t deny that he tries to be how he is with his family around me.

More intimate but gentle nevertheless.

Yes, I do accept that Angelo’s attitude toward me changed a lot.

He has become a lot more understanding, or he is trying be a lot more understanding at least and for that I respect him.

He was still a maze for me to figure out.

A maze that I had lost myself in long ago, without even realising.

I suppose I lost myself too much of myself in him after I found out about the pregnancy.

And then I suppose the last bit happened between all the fights and fucks.

As

cringey

and disturbing as it sounds.

It takes us almost ages to get the facials and nails and hair done.

By the time I stepped out of the air conditioned, exorbitant parlor, I felt a new person.

At least appearance wise.

The knots and tensions on my back was all loose and relaxed a result of their full body massage, my skin felt tight and clean.

My hair was some inches shorter, a little too short for my liking I would say.

The ladies at the parlor kindly re did the color job and applied a fresh coat of hair color perfecting my bubble gum pink ombre hair.

“You’re damn good looking.” Blaire said munching on a chocolate coated wafer looking at the pair of us through the mirror.

Her dark hair was some inches shorter and naturally straight falling a little below her shoulders.

I would say she was damn good looking.

It would take a huge amount of work and miracle for me to reach to her beauty.

But then again, Blaire was something else. She could pull out every bold makeover.

While I

was-

just me.

We went to a dress store after our spa activities to choose a dress.

It was a bridal boutique, for all sorts of bridal and brides maid items.

It was one of it’s kind offering custom designs according to the clients wishes.

But we didn’t have that much time to ask for a custom design. We had to choose from the rack and get the  alterations done.

However, the price tags were maddening.

Surely Alyssa had paid for the facials and massage of our group but to let her or Donna Cora pay for a dress this expensive would be stupid.

And none of the dresses I felt appealing was in my budget.

“Stop looking at the tags, bubs.” Donna Coralyn said resting her elbow on my shoulder.

I was only an inch or two taller than her so our size matched pretty much.

“Just get one, already.” She said.

“I am not finding anything appealing.” I lied looking at the dresses.

I had made up my mind to ask the sale persons to show me to the discount racks because I refuse to let anybody else pay for me-

“Come on.” Donna Coralyn said pulling me to where Alyssa was trying out a simple white dress.

Blaire was sitting on the overstuffed couch munching on animal crackers.

I fail to find the exact amount of snacks she’s keeping in her, given that all she is carrying is a small bag.

“Stop eating.” Coralyn admonishes Blaire as she makes space for the pair of us to sit down.

“What about that the golden one you were looking at?” Blaire asked wiping her hand on the jeans. “Gold looks banging on you.”

“I don’t like the gold one.” I say. “Too fancy-”

“It hurts nobody to be fancy for a day, hon.” Donna Coralyn prompts.

Alyssa models a lace dress, that hugs her figure, exposes her back till her waist, ends in a small trail.

“Banging.” Blaire gives two thumbs up.

“Banging.” Donna Coralyn agrees.

“Banging.” I agree nodding my head.

Donna Coralyn gets a pale champagne pink chiffon gown that enhances her assets still being modest to the eye.

Blaire gets a bold choice of burgundy with elbow long sleeve cocktail dress.

Neither of the trio takes as much as time picking out a garment as I do.

Kill me.

“Choose one already.” Blaire shoved me playfully her dress bag in her hand as I ventured through more racks to find a goddamn dress.

“Look at this.” She held out a baby blue one.

It would ruin the whole wedding along with the theme . I thought.

“No.” I said putting it back.

“This one?” She held up a white one.

“We can’t wear white.” I said putting it back as well.

“But you look so good in white.” She whined.

“White is a bad omen.” I said.

“Nobody believes in those.” She prompts.

“I do.” I say browsing through the ones on the back of the rack.

“Come on.” She prompts. “There are thousands of colors and styles.”

There ain’t thousands in my pocket though.

“Looking, woman.” I said rolling my eyes.

I take she’s not a fan of shopping for cloths.

“Look faster.” She said.

I nodded.

I ended up with a dress, trying the damn thing on, upon request.

It required a fancy alteration so the only thing I came home with was nothing.

Except my newly done hair, fresh nails and a massage .

Bertie had the dogs all evening, so as soon as I got out of the car, both of them ran to me, yapping.

“You missed me?” I ask sitting on my hunches, rubbing their heads. “ You did ?“

Bertie was lounging on the garden, dressed in T-shirt and shorts while he watched over the dogs.

“Did you feed them lunch?” I hollered for the man, picking up Poodle to cuddle him while Coco yaps.

“I did.” He says. “You look different.”

“Did my hair.” I yell back walking into the house, Coco following behind me, still yapping making Poodle yap back in response.

I don’t have four hands now.

God !

I place Poodle on the floor so there is no yapping mess in this house.

Entering the kitchen, I fix myself a prune juice witch ice carrying it out in the back yard.

I was officially empty pocketed.

I thought as I enjoyed my evening with the dogs in the background, prune juice in a wine glass.

I need to get a job.

I set out ingredients to make dinner for the night.

Since Bertie declined on dinner for the night, I kept the dinner simple and boiled some store bought pasta, cooked it in oil and tomato with enough cheese.

I was craving parmesan for some odd reason so I dump some on the pan, not caring that it doesn’t follow no recipe.

And it’s too much.

Sometimes, you just gotta make what you gotta make. Simple .

Arms wrap them around my waist, pulling my petite frame flush against his body.

“Buonasera.” I wish feeling the spicy yet citrus smell of Angelo’s cologne hit my senses.

“Buonasera.” He whispered pushing my hair over my shoulder, feeling the strands on his fingers.

(Good evening.)

“You appear enchanting.” Angelo whispered, his mouth close to my ear, warm breath tickling my cheeks.

“Thank you.” I reply, gratified.

How Angelo puts it, makes me think of myself as someone exceptional.

Unusual but in a good way.

Peculiar, how I feel extremely

normal .

I turn to face the man, who has me in a gentle yet firm hold.

“Beautiful.” He says pushing my hair back from my face, tucking the locks behind my ear.

Beautiful, himself. I think, taking his light grey outfit clad figure.

His overgrown hair styled. Even after a day of work, somehow he looks composed and ready to take on the day.

“Thank you, signore.” I joke, patting his chest with gratitude.

“How can my peasant self ever repay your compliments?” I add.

He chuckles. “Flattery.”

I shrug.

“What’s cooking?” He asks.

“Rigatoni.” I say apologetically. “With tomatoes and cheese.”

“Suona divino.” He says, free hand still playing with my hair.

(Sounds divine)

“Grazie.” I reply. “Do you want to eat or get freshened first?” I ask.

“I’d like to eat.” He says.

“I’ll set the plates.” I say pushing myself from his hold and grab two dinner plates for us.

“On the contrary-” Angelo says in a low tone while I get the black ceramic plates from the cupboard, his hand placed on my waist, yet for the second time this evening.

I place the utensils down on the counter.

“On the contrary?” I ask turning to face him once again.

“On the contrary-” He says with a devilish smirk playing on his lips. “I believe dinner should wait.”

I shriek as he lifts me up, placing me on top of the high counter.

“Dinner should definitely wait.” Angelo muses, his mouth latching on to the crook of my neck.

“Should definitely wait.” I whisper, arms around his neck, skin exploding with tiny little sparks that his mouth sets on me.

---

AUTHOR NOTE PART TWO:

I suppose this chapter turned out a little better than the last one, but honestly I can’t tell, lmao.

My writing seems shit to me. Anyways-

Let me know how y’all like it

I totally forgot about Alyssa’s wedding. I’m such a shitty author. Smh.

Also I am 1hour 10 minute late. Sorry.😭

-November.

33

I sighed as my back met the cool leather of my office chair.

I left for the breakfast meeting scheduled with Roman before nine.

I had phoned Alberto letting him know that I was leaving and told him to get the surveillance going.

Ariel wasn’t up by then and leaving the house like that would be a worry to me.

So far, Blaire wasn’t involved in the watch duties. Yet .

Roman says she needs some days to be prepared.

I don’t question him.

“Come in.” I said closing my eyes as my head rested on the backrest of the chair, upon hearing a knock in the door.

Alexander Richardson stepped inside, dressed in an official outfit, that was mandatory for the desk work, that he was doing in the office.

“Morning Angelo.” He grinned at me walking toward my desk, two plastic cover files on his hand as he covered the distance between the pair of us.

“Hey man.” He greeted when I failed to respond to his good morning.

Or Morning.

“Hey, so, I went over these files like you told me to-”

I raise a hand to quite him.

Getting the gesture he settles down his excitement.

Believe me when I say, I didn’t see anybody look as half excited as he, given the chance to do a desk job.

Roman came pretty close, but he was always in his ogre mode, so it doesn’t count.

While myself would like to play football or any kind of outside activity, Roman wanted to sit in his God forbidden room reading.

A desk job agreed with him, but he was never excited for a desk job.

“Buongiorno, Alex.” I said sitting up straight.

“Uh- good morning.” He smiled, in greeting.

“That’s better.” I said, lacing my fingers over the table top.

“While you’re working here, I would like for you to work like everybody in this building does.” I cleared.

“Yeah sure, let me-”

“I am not finished.” I say.

“Do not interrupt me while I am talking, while you’re working under my company, I am your boss.” I say.

“You address me like I am your boss, you do not say morning, you wish a good morning, it’s not just on my case, it’s on everybody’s case, alright?”

“Yes, sir.” He replies.

“This is not America and this is not your father’s company.” I continue.

“You act like it, you are here to learn to make sure you don’t leave a dent in your learning. Are we clear?” I ask the younger man.

“Yes, Sir.” He nods.

That’s like it.

“Take a sit, Alexander.” I gesture at the visitor’s chair in front of my desk.

He takes a seat across from me, placing the files in the desk top.

“Now, tell me what is it you wanted to say.”

“I wanted to inform you that those files that you gave, I have read them.” He says, his tone has shifted from the friendly to a professional distant one.

Good .

“And?”

“And- I made the report. I have mailed it your office mail address.” He says pushing the files toward me.

“You are quick for a beginner.” I say examining the thickness of the files before putting them away.

“I worked with dad for a while in the summers.” He volunteers.

None of what I need to know.

None of what’s my business.

I give him a curt nod, pulling this morning’s files left by my assistant.

Picking out the files of the Blu hotel upgrade, I slide the three thin files toward Alex.

“Go through the files and before you do ask my assistant for all the original files of the Blu hotel, then I would like you to get on the phone with Adrian DiMariano, who is handing the hotel at this moment and talk out the expenses and profits for our company.” I say.

It was a big thing for an amateur.

But you do not learn until you fail and find out the ways not to fail by yourself.

At least that’s what papa Marcus and Lorenzo taught me.

I do not hope for him to succeed this task.

As big as it was, it was just the Blue hotel.

There will be no loss, if there is no profit.

It was family business, anyway.

“Sure.” Alex said pulling the files toward him, flipping through the pages.

“I would also need a taped proof of yours and signore DiMariano’s conversation. Collateral proof.” I said.

“Yes, sir.” Alex said getting up to leave.

“And- take your time. Rest of this week if you will.” I add. “And get a teacher to teach you Italian, please.”

Alex gave me a nod with half a smile seeing himself out of the office room.

It was only the day before, in after noon, I got a mail from the Richardson company with a CV of Alexander Richardson, not so officially seeking help.

Later that evening, his father, Aron Richardson called telling me, his son wanted to learn the construction company way around business and he would be much satisfied if I took Alexander under my wing.

I did not have the slightest wish to do so.

I didn’t want nothing to do with Aron Richardson or his sons.

That family in general.

I almost declined the offer.

Aron said, that Alex was already in Italy and he has already send us a CV via mail.

The mail that almost ruined my peaceful lunch with my woman.

I told him I wasn’t hiring or babysitting or training at this moment or any moment for that matter and precisely- I didn’t have time to waste .

He told me to give the kid a chance, mentioning around the lines that Alexander is already wanting to learn from me the ways of the construction company.

Why the oh so sudden interest in me and my family coming from his end? I had no idea.

Neither do I have any idea why is he pawning his kid for whatever he wanted to make out of this twisted game he was playing.

You make what you are. I realised as of that moment.

My father, the biological one, had long ago mastered the art of manipulation.

Be it your associate or your son.

I had declined.

The next call went to Roman.

Joined to the hip, my brother, asked me if I wanted to do it willingly not because the call went to a upper power.

As for this moment it wasn’t business.

It was a family matter .

When my answer came in negative for taking the kid under me, he declined from his side.

Roman and I got defeated under the wrath of my mother and mama Cora.

When the ladies stormed into the building late evening just before Roman and I was leaving, the day prior and demanded a sit down, I knew the deal was done and sealed.

Sealed for good.

“He’s your little brother, bubba.” Mama had said.

“He just wants to look up to his big brother and learn certain things, is that so bad?”

I gave up. Alyssa Giovanni had a way with her words.

There was no escape.

“I will whack yous!” Mama Cora threatened. “He’s just a boy.”

Tell him to go play with toys then. I had thought but I was a loser to my mothers.

“Well, then- then he has no business here, mama.” Roman said, standing tall, fixed to his ground.

It earned him a smack on the head from mama.

“He’s your cousin.” Mama prompted, frowning.

“The incidents of past shouldn’t cloud your future judgement, boys.” Alyssa Giovanni had said sitting behind my desk, on my chair.

“ Precisely .“ Mama Cora nodded, agreeing with her friend.

And God knows anyone can make me grovel with those two woman in possession.

Fuck it.

Fuck it to hell.

I finally gave the kid a call and gave him direct orders, giving my assistant two files and send it to his hotel.

He had those done by the morning.

But he was still an amateur intern.

Flexing hard with two files done in one night will only get him so far in the construction business.

He would soon come to know that working hard and fast goes slower than working smart.

I turned my attention to my computer.

Surely there was a mail from Alexander’s new company email.

I forwarded it to my assistant and asked her to go through it before I did.

I simply lacked time to go through reports that wasn’t from a family establishment.

People worked in this company for a reason.

If I started looking at very tiny details of every deal, I will be broke and paralyzed in two days.

Alexander and Aron is what I discussed with Roman over breakfast.

We came to a compromising solution.

I wasn’t keeping the boy around for long. I stated finally.

There would be no negotiations about this. The boy would do the job, learn what he needs to, like other intern does and go back to his country.

Back to his father.

I did not have the slightest wish or want to keep any member of that family around.

Roman agreed.

I could tell he wanted to do things differently but he didn’t want to intervene in my business either.

He didn’t want his uncle’s side around. At all.

Hr had made that clear as soon as we sat down for breakfast.

“ I do not trust my uncle .“ He said. “ Not at all. “

I didn’t either.

And the aspect of the boy, working here seemed like an old trick from the book to him.

What can they do given the whole world? Nothing .

My phone rang shifting my gaze toward the device from my computer screen.

Ariel’s name flashed across the screen.

I picked the device up, answering the call.

Her sleepy face smiled at me from the other side of the screen.

“Buongiorno.” I wished.

“Buongiorno.” She grinned pushing her hair back, tucking the unruly locks behind her ear. “How’s your day going?”

“Going.” I reply leaning back on the chair.

Coco and Poodle framed her from the both sides, she was still lazing in bed, the dogs lazing with her.

Royalty.

“Have you had breakfast?” I ask.

It seems like she just got up from her tiredness induced slumber.

Ariel shrugs. “Not yet.”

“You should have.” I admonish. “It’s almost ten. Don’t forget your medication.”

“I won’t.” She sings with a roll of her eyes.

“I’m going out for a while.” She informs.

“Are you?” I ask leaning back against the chair.

She nods.

“Might I ask, where?”

“To pick up my dress.” She sighs. “And run some errands.”

She shows me the mutts face for a second because they were barking at phone and tells me go get back to work and that she was going to fix herself some breakfast.

“Bye, sweetheart.” I said ending the video call before putting the device on my desk, averting my attention to the computer screen. 

It was around before lunch when the office phone rang for the nth time.

“Giovanni.” I answered the call, dropping the pencil in my desk.

“Signore, there is a certain Alberto wanting to see you.” The flirtatious voice of the receptionist drifted through the earpiece.

“Send him in.” I replied ending the call without bothering for an answer from her end.

Minutes later, the door of my office room rattled.

I replied for the visitor to come in.

Alberto walked in, in his usual uniform of a suit. His hand carrying a paper bag.

“Alberto.” I greeted the man with a nod. “Take a seat.”

He took a seat silently and placed the paper bag on the desk.

“I hope you didn’t leave the house unattended.” I say.

“The house is heavily guarded Capo Bestone.” He said earnestly.

“There is something I came to inform you in person.” He adds.

I nodded, urging the man to go on, while I read the mail from the tailors for the suit trail later in the evening.

“I retrieved signora Ariel’s old phone that she discarded in a bakery’s trash can after a very upsetting call with a supposed someone.” He said pushing the paper bag toward me.

I frowned, turning my attention to huge man as i accepted the unexpected parcel from the head of security of my team.

“An upsetting call you say?” I ask. “And she discarded the phone after?”

He gave me an unsure nod.

No wonder why haven’t I seen her tinkering with this piece of garbage the night before.

I take out the phone, it’s on.

I go through the call list. It’s that same number that called before and I answered.

It’s the same number that has been calling Ariel.

“I suppose signora Ariel wasn’t particularly expecting the person on the other end to get into touch with her, she said, I believe that she would kill whoever it was if she was called again.”

“Trace the cell.” I say, throwing the pink phone toward Alberto.

“Get this to Eli. Trace the cell, find the bastard.” I say.

“Sí, boss.” He says getting up, alert. On duty.

“And, Ariel steers clear of this.” I order. “I don’t want her to get worried or anything. If she hears something, it will be from me, sono chiaro?”

(Am I clear?)

“Sí, boss.” He gives me a nod.

“And make sure who ever this is, he or she doesn’t get a head on that we are behind this guy or gal. Trace this person, get me the location. Run it through Roman, I want to find out what this is all about.”

Alberto leaves, leaving me with a fresh set of worry and tension.

Knowing myself, I can tell that until I take care of this mater personally, I can not sit down patient.

It wouldn’t come as a surprise if this bastard and Ariel had some sort of arrangement before.

The list of Ariel’s lover goes a long way, so it won’t be something unexpected.

But the list of Ariel’s lovers was play and forget.

And if the woman threw a death threat to whoever it was, it means serious. And it means Ariel is in serious mental dilemma.

And things were just turning better. I think.

Fuck .

I wish Ariel would’ve told me this the night before.

It would’ve solved at least something if not everything of this issue.

I inform my assistant telling her that I will be heading home early before gathering my belongings and walking toward the exit of my office.

The ride to home even though was short seemed long to me.

Perhaps it was the fact that I felt anxious about all of this whole issue going in with Ariel that she refused to share with me.

Or that she refused to let me in when she needed a shoulder to lean on. Her mindset regard this disturbs me so very much.

Isn’t that what we were supposed to do when in mental predicament? Or when we are disturbed?

Aren’t we supposed to confide in the other when in need?

Isn’t that what it means to try for the sake of both of us?

It makes me question, that even if she understands.

Or am I taking it this situation to be more serious than it was?

It could be some prankster for God’s sake.

But Ariel wouldn’t throw a death threat to a teen prankster.

And by the voice of Alberto, I feel as if Ariel and whoever it was on the phone, was acquainted at some point of their lives.

I park the McLaren in the drive way, killing the engine.

The dogs were playing in the front yard, struggling with a huge red air filled ball, and yapping.

Ignoring the mutts, playing, I enter the house, my eyes instantly looking for Ariel.

The living room was eerily silent with the windows still open, even though it was almost evening.

And Ariel often if not always closes the window just when the sun starts to shift.

I ignored the fact and walked toward the kitchen, hoping that the woman might be there, given that she spends an unhealthy amount of time in there.

No Ariel.

“Tadpole?” I call out for the woman placing my keys and wallet on the kitchen counter, proceeding to undo the top buttons on my shirt.

“Ariel?” I yell when I hear no response from her.

Walking out of the kitchen, I check the pool room, the backyard.

Still there was no sound from Ariel.

“Tadpole?” I call out standing on the back porch of the house, not caring that Ariel will throw a right fit for walking with my shoes on, inside the house.

“Why are you yelling?” I hear Ariel’s voice. It was mixed with surprise and annoyance.

Turning to face the woman, I see her clad in a sports bra and yoga pants, leaving her flat mid section bare.

Her hair pulled up in a pony tail  breathing heavily, eyes narrowed at my direction.

Her face slightly playful yet annoyed.

“Why are you inside with your shoes on?” She adds with a frown, arms crossed over her chest.

“Where have you been?” I ask, surprised shrugging off my jacket and handing it to her, which she accepts and puts the garment over her arm.

“Dance room.” She says with a frown. “Where else am I at this time?”

“The dogs are out by themselves.” I point out.

“Bertie is watching them.” She argues shaking her head.

“Take off your shoes, Angelo.” She warns, her eyes narrowed at my brown leather Testoni shoes.

Rolling my eyes at her, I slip my feet off them kicking them to the side.

“I have to talk to you.” I follow the maddening creature toward the living room where she walks to.

“Hmm?” She asks placing my suit jacket over the headrest of the sofa and turning to face me. “About what?”

Walking closer to her petite frame, I place my hands on her exposed flesh.

It was sweaty to touch and her skin was Fahrenheits warmer than mine.

“I’m sweaty.” She crinkles her nose.

“I don’t care.” I say pecking her mouth, to which she responds violently, crashing her lips to mine, arms around my neck, sweat matted body pushed against mine.

Fuck . I thought. There is no place for serious discussion when she is being needy herself .

Our mouth dances in the ecstasy of their own while I pull her frame more closer to mine, head a blank space, taking in, every small trail of emotion that she leaves on my mouth with her kiss.

“I want to talk to you too.” Ariel whispers against my mouth

Her right hand to trailing sensually down my body, feeling the muscles under her warm palm, stopping at the snap of my suit pants.

“About?” I ask.

“I want to go back to work.” She says, her hand playing with the snap, holding the suit pants to my waist.

34

“You want to what?” Angelo asks, his hand stopping my movement against his crotch.

“Go back to work?” I asked, knowing that his answer would be no, in a hundred different languages.

“No.” He says.

“No?” I ask, my voice soft and sultry, fingers sprawled against his groin, feeling his already evident erection.

“No.” Angelo replies, voice firm.

“Can’t it at least be, I’ll think about it?” I ask watching the man push himself away from me, grabbing his suit jacket from where I kept it.

“No.” He replies.

“Angelo-” I sigh watching him turn and leave toward the stair no, doubt on his way to shower.

“Don’t be so inexorable.” I argue stomping toward the bedroom behind him, where he was headed.

“I’m not being, inexorable.” He says throwing the Armani suit jacket on the freshly made bed.

“I’m strictly against it.” He adds, undoing the buttons on his white shirt.

Now, this was turning out to be harder than I thought.

Not being able to work was getting into my head .

I’m all alone, apart from the dogs and Bertie, of course.

God knows, what he does in that small outhouse all day and all night.

And mostly, the dogs hang out with Bertie leaving me alone, and cleaning the house everyday hardly is interesting.

Beside, I miss the face of the kids at the ballet academy.

I miss Minx, by a greater margin.

I miss Blaire and I’a date and the dancing, the music.

“You can’t just say that you’re strictly against me working.” I stand tall, on my ground, crossing my arms over my chest, focused.

“I just did, Ariel.” He says, with his eyes raised, his shirt hangs open from his shoulders.

If sex wasn’t going to be enough to persuade him, I didn’t know what will.

“This is not done.” I say shaking my head.

“You can’t decide if I get to work or don’t. If I want to work, I will.” I add.

“You won’t go back to minx, doing what you did, Ariel.” He warns, the tone of seriousness in his voice.

“But I do want to.” I say throwing my hands in the air. “Is that so much to ask?”

“It’s extremely too much to ask, to go back to the club and strip for men.” He says.

“So that’s what bothers you.” I say.

“Isn’t it supposed to?” He asks.

“Is it?” I ask. “What I did at minx was my job. Striping and dancing was my job not my pastime to please married perverted men.”

“It used to be different in the past and it’s different now.” He says, shrugging off the shirt away from his body, dropping the linen material that smells so heavily of him in the bed.

“I don’t see any difference!” I say.

Is he for real right now?

“I see no difference, it was my job two months ago and when I return, it will still be my job-”

“I do not want you to back to minx.” He says. “It’s nonnegotiable.”

“That’s not fair, Angelo!” I yell.

“However, if you want to go back to the school, that’s a different thing.” He adds.

Oh?

So- so- he’s- he’s just opposed of me going back to minx and work as a dancer.

“So the problem is me going to minx?” I ask.

“Yes.” He says. “I’m not okay with you going back to minx, dancing your way into other men’s pleasure, no matter how trivial that might be.”

I sigh.

“You can’t just force me into not working, Angelo.”

“I’m not forcing you.” He says. “I just do not entertain that idea is all. And I do not want you to go back there.”

“And I fail to see why you feel the need to work at any rate?” He asks.

“Why can’t I work?” I asks.

“I’m not saying that you can not.” He pushes his hair back with an annoyed sigh.

“All I am saying is I fail to see why you would.”

“Why won’t I?” I ask. “You don’t expect me to be at the house all day with the dogs and your security guards like I am an asset of some sort while I play house mother all day!”

Harsh much?

Angelo sighs.

Standing there for ten long seconds, silently, he regards me, before walking into the shower without so much of a comeback or an answer at my direction.

Rolling my eyes, I sit in the bed, spirits dampened.

This is on a next level stupid.

This is just so very stupid, coming from Angelo himself.

I thought we were trying.

Aren’t we both supposed to like, take the other’s wishes and wants into consideration?

Aren’t we supposed to at least think about stuff and discuss like adults instead of putting down the martial law?

I don’t know. I think, pushing the loose strands of my hair, behind my ear.

Why does he have to be so controlling? I think, biting the inside of my cheek.

I sit silently on the bed, hearing the sprinkling sounds of the shower going on.

I suppose from Angelo’s point of view, he is right.

If I was in his shoes, I wouldn’t support the idea of him entertaining people sensually, given that he would return back to me after all his errand that would be his enthralling job.

I understand, to an extant where he is coming from but to be honest, depending on him, is not what I want to do.

Depending on him, for every little need of mine, no matter how insignificant and small would only bring me down inside.

I would to myself because at one point, I know I will feel the handicapped one in this relationship, and that’s not how I want to feel.

And, truthfully asking Angelo for money for every small thing I would like to do doesn’t sound appealing to me.

So I will get back to work.

He can deal with it.

I don’t want to have a home where Angelo only contributes financially. Where I am unable to meet my own needs without turning back to him for financial support.

But then again, I don’t want to come out as an ungrateful person.

So I suppose the ballet academy will suffice for now.

Besides, being stuck up in a house for the whole day gets lonely and boring, often.

There is only so much to do.

The shower stops after almost fifteen minutes.

Fifteen minutes, I ponder over my thoughts and decisions.

Would it be better if I went to the dance academy?

Do I even have that job?

Angelo enters the room, a towel wrapped around his waist as he uses a second towel to rub his hair dry.

His face still grim.

This is not how I pictured out the conversation to flow out today.

But I suppose he has his reasons for not wanting me to see myself on a pole at Minx, all through the night.

“What would you like for dinner?” I ask, getting up, wiping my sweaty palm on my pants.

“Whatever is fine.” He says, walking toward the closet.

Sighing, I follow the man, who has his back turned toward me.

Vexed at my sudden, childish outburst.

“I didn’t mean any of it, Angelo.” I sigh placing my arms around his water littered waist.

Cheek against the middle of his back.

“I’ve just been so frustrated-” I reason.

But it’s no reason.

“It was so stupid of me to act in such an unreasonable way.” I add, looking up to see the back of the man, chin resting against his damp back.

“I understand where you are coming from, Angelo.” I say. “I would have said the same if I was in your place-”

“It’s alright.” He sighed. “I get where you are coming from too and-”

“You know?” I sigh. “Let’s forget about it, okay? I won’t go back to Minx, if that is what will put you at ease.”

“I’m glad you understand.” He says turning back.

“I wish you would wait for some more days before wanting to back into teaching ballet, it’s not safe yet and I wouldn’t want anything unfortunate-” He adds.

“I’ve been out for a number of times and nothing unfortunate has happened.” I say with a shake if my head.

“I’m sure who ever was pulling those stunts realised it was of no avail and stopped.” I added.

“Maybe he or she is taking a break for the whole situation to calm down.” Angelo reasons.

I sigh.

“Let’s come back to this topic next week, alright?” He asks, placing his hand lightly on my cheek.

I lean to his touch.

“I hate us arguing.” I whisper, grabbing his hand gently, feeling the soft, slightly cold touch of his palm against me.

“I hate it too.” He says leaning forward placing a kiss on my head.

“Why don’t you go run a shower for yourself?” Angelo suggests after some moments of us standing in the middle of the closet.

I indeed had to take a shower.

The sweats from doing pole for two hours a stretch has me sticky.

“I’ll get the dinner started.” Angelo said, patting my cheek gently.

I took a soothing shower, washing my hair, scrubbing my body with orange flavour body wash before wrapping myself in a bathrobe, that hangs on the bathroom door and exiting the setting.

I had successfully spend almost forty five minutes inside the bathroom, taking a sorry excuse for a shower.

Seems like everything hits you better when you’re in the shower, I think, using a towel to dry my hair as I pad my way downstairs.

The kitchen came alive with the aroma of my favourite salad dish, Caponata.

It’s been so long, I’ve made it. I think as I enter the kitchen, oddly warm from the shower.

Angelo moves around the kitchen, dressed in a plain white T-shirt and silk jammies, fixing something else to go with the Caponata and warmed up bread.

“Smells good.” I said peaking into the bowl, continuing the dish that was coning to room temperature, sided with bread.

“Well, I am glad.” Angelo replies placing the marinated stake on the pan to get seared.

“I like being treated nice!” I sighed, leaning my back against the kitchen counter.

Angelo rewards me with a  smile.

“Mama called.” He announces, moving the steak around with the pincers.

“Oh?” I ask eyeing my phone that rests just inches away from the stove.

Did he answer it?

“She said she wanted to talk to you.” He nudges the phone at my direction making me pick up the white sleek device.

“I’ll call her.” I say unlocking my phone with my fingerprint and dialing Alyssa.

“Hey hon.” She answers on the second ring.

“Hello.” I greeted moving away from the kitchen, slightly wanting privacy.

“Hey.” She repeats, her voice jolly, excitement almost radiating off her voice from the other end of the phone.

I suppose that’s what I meant when I asked her if she was excited.

She just causally brushed me away!

Shaking my head at the thought, I ask. “Angelo said you called for me?”

“Oh, yes yes.” She said.

“I did. I was wondering if it would be nice for us to gather at Friday night for dinner. Cora suggested we do a family dinner before the ceremony and all.”

“It would be fantastic.” I reply. “Your place?”

“I was thinking for a restaurant.” She said.

“It would be fantastic, Alyssa.” I said. “That’s a thoughtful plan.”

Alyssa makes a humming sound from the other end.

“Are you okay?” I ask the older woman.

“I suppose.” She sighs. “I’m in such a fluctuating mood, today.”

Oh ?

“I suppose, I’m nervous.” She sighs. “Am I allowed to be nervous?”

I chuckle at her question.

“Don’t laugh at me.” She sighs.

“I’m sorry.” I giggle. “Of course, honey. It’s alright. You’ve been with Lorenzo for thirty years.”

“But I’ve never been married to Lorenzo before.” She says.

“There is first time for everything.” I point out. “But don’t you worry, it will be perfect.”

“I hope so.” She says.

“It will be.” I promise. “Don’t worry.”

Alyssa sighs.

“Do you want me to come over your house?” I ask wondering of she is having something of a panic or anxiety episode.

“No. No.” She says quickly. “Cora and Marcus are here.”

“Oh, alright.” I say examining my nails. “Do call me if you need inexperienced advice, though.”

Alyssa giggles. “I will. I will.”

“Okay.” I grin.

“Alright honey.” She sighs. “I’ll let you go, goodnight.”

“Night night.” I reply.

“Night night.” She says. “I love you.”

Her words make me swell and smile at the same time.

“I love you too.” I reply.

When I enter the kitchen after my conversation with Alyssa, Angelo had already plated the food in two plates and set the table with a bottle of crisp white wine in glass.

“Fancy white.” I compliment, pulling my chair back to sit.

“Fancy white.” Angelo says raising his wine glass.

I follow his gesture and clink our glasses together taking a sip of the wine.

I take a bite of the steak that Angelo has so very fancily played and hum as the delicious goodness hits my senses.

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

It’s a short chapter but I had to just write this down. :( bit ye whatever. Let me know.

PS: thank you for being so nice last chapter and to those who personally reached out to me. I’m so thankful to y’all <3

Um- do y’all want Angelo POV next chapter. Tomorrow?

November

35

“Alyssa would love this.” I say with a smile.

In front of me was an elegant gold necklace. On the minimalist side with a V at the centre, encrusted with tiny diamonds.

Angelo peeled off the necklace from the cushion of a box, that the delicacy sat upon.

“Pull your hair up, baby.” He said going behind me.

I felt the cold touch of the chain around my neck, slightly itchy to my skin.

Oh.

I thought it was for Alyssa.

Shouldn’t she be getting gifts because it’s her getting married?

“Angelo.” I grouch, with a pout resting on my painted lips.

“What?” The man standing behind me chuckled, putting by hair down, so the waves fell over my shoulder.

“You’ve already done so much.” I complained.

“Why, I feel as if just getting yourself a dress wasn’t enough, tadpole.” He said, looking at the pair of us through the mirror.

Alyssa’s big day was finally, FINALLY here.

After last night’s dinner, Angelo and I came back to the house, got our much needed rest and now at nine in the morning we were ready to go to the ceremony.

Well, an hour before the ceremony, because Alyssa was yet to get ready.

As per her request, I had already called her and got her up from sleep and she and Lorenzo was on their way to the church.

Separately, of course.

“And shoes.” I added.

“And lingerie.” Angelo said, picking up the container of his perfume and spraying on both his wrists.

I flushed.

I had, of course got myself a dress, a teal colored cocktail dress that looked respectable and classy enough.

But Angelo had also made a purchase of a champagne silk dress, that fell several inches below my knees.

My gift of a dress with a hefty price tag came with matching shoes and panties.

Now jewelry.

I gave Angelo the pair of cufflinks I purchased from the men’s section of the boutique when I went to pick up my altered dress.

He wore the silver jewels with pride on both his wrists.

“Thank you.” I said, turning to face my man.

“You’re welcome.” He says, his hand placed on my hip, as I straightened his tie, matching perfectly with the charcoal pinstripe three piece suit.

“Alright.” He sighs, buttoning up his vest before doing the single button on his suit jacket.

“Are you nervous?” I ask, a half smile playing on the corner of my mouth as I adjusted the pocket square.

“Slightly.” He answered.

I smirk.

“Get your shoes.” He orders, patting my arm, telling me it’s my queue to stop with the dressing up already.

We stop at the church’s gate at exactly nine forty am, one hour before the ceremony, to be greeted with Blaire.

Now, Miss Anderson was dressed in her burgundy dress, heels, her hair done in a low messy bun like updo but not really.

A scary expression on her face letting me know that we were in fact late.

“Well, y’all could’ve let that morning sex go for once in y’alls goddamn horny life.” She said shoving a small flower arrangement toward Angelo.

“But no!” She added with an eye roll. “God forbid Devil-o doesn’t get his hand on the little mermaid.”

Oh .

“Put that on, you asshole.” She hissed at the well dressed and groomed man before grabbing my arm and leading me away.

“Jesus.” I whispered. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing.” She shrugged. “Y’all are late, my hair is a mess!”

“Oh.” I exclaimed. “I thought that was your hairstyle.”

“Don’t make fun of me, bubbles!” She whines pouting.

“Get in. You should’ve just stayed at Alyssa’s place with thee rest of us.” She adds.

“Awe!” I pout. “I had the dogs home and all that.”

“Lies.” Blaire accuses. “You just wanted that monster dic-”

“Don’t you finish that.” I warned opening the wooden door to a small room that Alyssa was getting ready in.

“You talk like you didn’t.” She complains.

“You talk like you didn’t.” I say back.

“I didn’t.” She shrugs. “I did a facial and went to bed cause God, I wanna look good. For once.”

Who’s gonna tell her she looks good all the damn time?

I laugh. “Me neither.”

“Good for you.” Blaire nods. “At least you can walk.”

“Don’t you two have anything else to yell and shriek about?” Donna Coralyn says with her arms crossed and a weirdly cute and funny expression on her face.

“No.” Blaire says with a smile. “Are you going to fix my hair or what?”

“You can be a little more nice.” Donna Coralyn pouts.

“Ugh- fine, please fix the mess in my hair, mama.” Blaire says. “Cause you made it.”

“I did not.”

The older lady, undoubtedly stressed a little- well, a whole bunch of little to be honest , leads Blaire in front of the makeup station and brings her mess down from her head.

“Hey.” I smile walking over to Alyssa, who was sipping orange juice from a glass.

“Hi.” She grins back at me, sitting up straight in the plush chair and putting her feet down from the foot stool.

I take a seat in the circular footstool. “How are you?”

“A whole bunch of crazy.” She says. “I just want this to be over and get done with.”

“It will be.” I say reaching for her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Alyssa gives me a smile and a nod.

When the planning lady gives us a heads up for thirty minutes to the ceremony, Alyssa puts on the white lace detailed dress, pairs it with her shoes, a small tiara jewel on her pulled up hair.

“Beautiful.” I breathe, getting up in my feet after being done with adjusting the front of her dress.

“You think so?” She asks fidgeting with her sleeve. “This is so stupid-”

“Biscuit-” Donna Coralyn murmurs walking over to Alyssa. “Why do you think that?”

“A registry would have been simpler and quicker-”

“Shush.” Donna Coralyn places her hand in her friend’s shoulder, visibly calming her down. “Shush, okay? We wanna party, shush.”

“Right?” Blaire says getting down from the chair that she was using to touch up on her minimal make up.

“I want to get drunk, Alyssa. Is that so bad? Come on!” Blaire adds.

“It’s still an unreasonable excuse to plan a wedding-”

A rasp on the door broke the conversation away.

“Are you guys decent inside?” I heard Angelo’s voice.

“Ye-”

“No we are naked!” Blaire yells.

“Blaire!” Alyssa admonishes.

“Sorry.” She pouts.

“Come in, sweetheart.” Alyssa says. “We are fine.”

Angelo pushes the door open, stepping inside.

“Hey maa.” He says, with a smile on his face.

Both of them holds each others gaze for ten seconds before busting out laughing.

Alyssa hugs her son, tightly, standing shorter even for her heels. They embrace for quite a second before Donna Coralyn sniffs and pushes Angelo away saying he’s ruining the makeup.

Angelo walks his mama down the aisle, the couple repeats their vows after the priest who was reciting the ceremony.

The whole of it takes a thirty minute before the couple kisses and does the walk down from the aisle, hand in hand.

The reception was a much crazier topic after the church ceremony.

The celebration would continue throughout the night, or so I’ve heard.

Alyssa had already changed into another much simpler dress, she had danced with Lorenzo and Angelo before a late lunch was served for the arrived guests.

“Sweetheart.” I feel a palm press against the small of my back. Angelo hands me a small desert plate consisting of the cake that Alyssa and Lorenzo sliced.

“Why thank you, handsome.” I say smiling up at the suited man.

I offer him the the first bite of the chocolate cake.

“You’re welcome.” He smiles accepting the small morsel from me. “I’d like you to meet some one.”

I nod walking toward the open bar where Angelo leads me.

“Leonidas.” He calls for the golden haired man, who had a whiskey glass in hand.

“Ah!” The blue eyed man exclaimed.

“Don Leonidas.” I offered a polite handshake.

“And you must be Ariel.” He says taking my hand, but instead of a shake, Leonidas places a chaste kiss on the back of it.

Oh .

“Giovanni’s Ariel.” He adds.

“Just Ariel.” I say, feeling Angelo’s palm press harder against my skin.

“You look gorgeous, either way.” Leonidas says. “Even- more gorgeous then the time you gave me that dance, is it the hair?”

“Possibly.” I say with a smile. “You don’t look bad yourself, either.”

He gives me a gentle thankful nod making me smile.

“Let me treat you to a shot of whiskey?” He asks.

“Alright.” Angelo cuts the conversation. “That’s enough of your blasphemy, Leonidas.”

The man standing before me chuckles, mischief dancing in his clear blue eyes.

“You can’t blame a man for trying, Giovanni.” He says. “Everybody dreams, only one conquers.”

“Whatever.” Angelo says.

I accept the whiskey glass from Leonidas, clinking our glasses before he walks away spotting someone he knows.

Turning toward Angelo, I offer the crystal whiskey glass to Angelo.

“Can I treat you to a shot?” I ask.

“No.” He answers taking the glass from my hand, placing it back on the bar.

“Awe.” I coo at him. “You don’t want a little shot of whiskey?”

He doesn’t reply instead leads me toward where Alyssa and Lorenzo stands, wine glasses in their hand talking a couple.

“Angelo.” Lorenzo slaps him on the shoulder. “Say hello.”

“Uncle Vince.” Angelo smile hugging the man. “Auntie Vivi.”

“Sweetheart.” The women cooes hugging Angelo. “How are you, honey?”

“Ariel.” Lorenzo prompts gently urging me for a greeting. “Meet Vincent DeMarco and his wife Genevieve.”

“Hello.” I greet shaking both their hands.

“Aren’t you a doll?” The older women examines me at arms length.

“Good for you, Angelo.” She says, with mischief in her eyes. “An absolute doll.”

I flush.

“Excuse us.” Angelo intervenes from the awkward conversation.

“It was a pleasure meeting you.” I say and take their excuse with a slightly bow.

“Well, that was awkward.” I said walking beside Angelo once we were out of their earshot.

“It was.” Angelo says with a sigh.

“Angelo Giovanni.” We hear a playful voice and almost instantly a figure clad in a pale pink dress comes into view.

“Chrislia?” Angelo frowns.

“Yes.” The women, beautifully tall, hair brown and lustrous, eyes so brown like a doll’s, looks back at Angelo.

“How have you been, you asshole?” The woman says, jabbing a finger to his chest.

Okay .

“I’ve been well.” He says. “I hear you were in Prague. When did you get back?”

“Last night.” She says. “I’m here with mama and papa. Bubba couldn’t make it.”

Angelo nods. “We’ve met them a second ago. How’s it going?”

“Grand.” The woman says, with half a smile on her playful yet gorgeous face. “Grand. We have a lot to catch up on.”

Angelo gives Chrislia a nod.

“And you must be Ariel.” She says turning her head to me. “You’re gorgeous, woman. Leonidas won’t shut up.”

Oh .

“Ariel- this is Chrislia.” Angelo says with a shake of his head.

“Hello Ariel.” The lady enthusiastically extends her hand toward me for a shake.

“Hello Chrislia.” I smile brightly at her.

“Call me, Lia or whatever.” She says with a wave of her hand. “And don’t mind me it’s I just saw these crackheads after a long time-”

“Oh, no. No. Of course not.” I say shaking by head. “It’s all fine.”

She grins at me, positive vibes radiating of the woman who picks up a flute of champagne from a waiter passing by and waves toward somebody.

“Excuse me.” She says patting my arm with her free hand walking over to who was calling her.

“That was Uncle Vince’s daughter.” Angelo volunteers.

I nod.

“Have you known her for long?” I ask taking a bite of my almost forgotten chocolate cake.

“Almost my whole childhood.” He says.

“And Leonidas?” I ask.

“Since university.” Angelo replies placing his hand back on the small of my back and walking toward the front of the ceremony where an entrance was created using flowers.

It looked heavenly.

“People seems to have fun.” I sigh placing the empty desert plate on the cater table that was placed as a pick up snack bar.

“They do. Mama Cora went all out.” Angelo said.

“Oh?” I ask.

“Yes.” He laughs. “So many people, and the band is too loud over there-”

I giggle.

“Good for you, I’m keeping you company.”

“Well I suppose, good for me.” He half smirks back at me.

My cheeks grow warm but I shake my head, ignoring the feeling of hotness that creeps along my skin.

We walk all they way to the entrance, talking and laughing. Teasing, playful.

“Let’s get out.” Angelo says abruptly, pulling me close to his arms, I steady myself grabbing the lapel of his jacket.

“Get out?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Yes.” He agrees.

“And then what?” I ask.

Angelo moves the loose strands of my hair out of my fave. “Let’s go somewhere.”

“Oh?”

“This is boring.”

“Alyssa would feel bad.”

“She’ll leave in some time as well.” Angelo says.

“Let’s get out after she leaves, then.” I whisper. “Let’s go somewhere.”

“Where would you want to go?” He asks.

“The beach?” I ask. “Let’s rent a hotel suite for the night-”

I catch a little dot of black on the road where a car for Alyssa and Lorenzo was parked.

And the next ten seconds goes in slow motion.

A black SUV drives through the road toward the highway exit, a hand out of the widow, a gun clutched in it’s grip.

Angelo’s eyes follow mine.

The sound of a shot bullet pierces through the cheerful environment of the whole party as Angelo grabs me tight, turning me away from the direct source.

The silencer probably working enough for the sound not to travel all the way back to the party.

My face hidden, from everything, pressed against his chest. Another ear splitting sound rips through the air.

Angelo’s body jerk slightly before we both drop to the knee on the grass.

“Angel!” I gasp, as I feel his hold loosen around me.

Oh no.

No.

No.

No.

No, this can’t be happening.

I feel a shadow over me, the sound of another bullet pierce through the air.

But it’s from our side.

“Angel.” I whisper pushing my face away from his chest.

“Angel.” I look up to see his eyes were open.

“I’m fine.” He said, rolling his shoulders and undoing his jacket while getting up.

Oh.

Body armor .

Oh.

“Are you okay?” Angelo asks wrapping an around around my shoulder watching the positively and utter shaken up side of myself.

I gave him a nod.

“Are you okay?” I ask, looking up to see Angelo. His eyes were, full of concern and worry.

I nod.

“Come on.” Roman said, patting Angelo’s shoulder roughly. “Let’s get inside. We’ll deal with this son of a bitch later.”

I follow Angelo and Roman into the security shed. Blaire beside me, gently rubbing my shoulders, but silent.

Sitting down on a chair beside Angelo while someone works on taking both the bullets out of the body armor that Angelo wore under his clothing, I ponder over why would any one even do it?

And who?

Who of all people would ruin a wedding- a wedding above all, just to shoot some bullets and then get caught.

Why would anyone do this?

Could it be-

The thought makes me nauseous.

It can’t be.

He doesn’t know where I am. Or where I live.

What I do.

But he did find my phone number, and he can certainly find the address.

Oh God .

“Feel any pain, boss?” The guy who took the bullet out of Angelo’s vest asks.

“Slightly.” Angelo replies rolling his shoulders. “Not much.”

I tentatively reach for Angelo’s fisted hands, lacing my fingers through them.

“I swear to God, it was Anne baguette behind all this unnecessary drama-” Blaire seethes, I look up to see, her arms crossed over her chest, a gun in her right hand, eyes fiery with rage.

“This is not the time, Blaire.” Roman warns, walking over to Angelo  examining his bare back.

“I’ve had worse before.” Angelo says clearly not liking the attention.

Pulling on the white shirt over himself, the man stands buttoning up the garment.

“Mama and Lorenzo will leave soon, let’s keep this under the wraps till then.”

Roman nods, handing Angelo his suit jacket that evidently had two little bullet holes.

I reached out for his hand again, this time he looks at me.

Maybe it’s the tears falling from my eyes or maybe the need of him to be near me, makes his gaze toward me soft.

“Hey.” He urges, gently sitting back down on the chair he was occupying before.

“It’s fine, baby.” He says, his hand cupping my cheek. “It’s fine. You’re fine. Nobody got hurt.”

I know.

But why in the first place?

“Bubbles-” Blaire sighs. “It was just baguette, trust me. She’s a psycho she does psycho stuff-”

“I don’t think it was Anne.” I whisper, my lip wobbling but I bite it to keep myself steady and not have a mental episode in front of the whole guarding team of the family.

Angelo frowns at me.

His expression stirs a sort of paranoia, deep inside me.

I don’t want him to find out what my life was before Minx.

He was not going to look at me same if he knew the tiniest bit of  life that I had before coming to Napoli.

“What do you mean?” Angelo asks, his hand moving my hair out of my face, tucking the loose ends behind my ear.

“Do you want to tell me something, baby?” He asks again.

I don’t.

I wouldn’t ever want to tell him anything but-

But if it was, who I think it was then because of me, Angelo would’ve gotten hurt. Or worse.

Maybe someone else.

I wouldn’t want anything to happen to Angelo or someone else because I was a stupid little bitch  thinking running away from home at sixteen year old would be a happily ever after and everything would go normal in the process.

As if this was a fantasy movie.

I nod.

Angelo dresses quickly in a spare suit in the security shed, that  we sat on, away from the prying eyes.

I fix whatever was salvageable of my face from the makeup, using the powder case Blaire hands me from her purse.

After we look presentable, I walk aside Angelo to the main event, where the last bit of the games were taking place before Alyssa and Lorenzo leaves for their honeymoon.

Donna Coralyn and Don Marcus wraps up the party with the guests before we too exit the venue.

Roman’s car following ours by a closer margin through the road as Angelo drives us back home.

“So?” Angelo asks as we pull up into the highway, toward the house.

I look up to see his passive face, looking at the road ahead of us.

“What does that bastard have on you?” He asks out of the blue.

What?

“Alec Santos, isn’t he?” Angelo asks. “What does he have on you?”

How does he know?

Has he been looking into it?

Into whatever my life was before minx and how it went?

What a disgrace in the name of life I lead those two years-

“Photographs.” I whisper out the word.

If he already knows then what’s the point?

What’s the point anyway?

“He is the one who called you days before, didn’t he?” Angelo asks.

I nod but look at the man sitting on the driver’s seat, once the car comes to a halt.

“Tadpole-” He sighs.

“Sweetheart, I am disappointed that you didn’t tell me what ever it was, that was bothering you and haunting you for the time being, I’m hurt that you thought I wouldn’t be able to help you or whatever you thought when you decided to hide all this from me- but-” He inhales sharply, the muscles of his jaw working.

“Angelo- I just-”

I just didn’t want to worry you too.

I didn’t want to be a headache.

“I’m not finished.” He warns.

I nod.

“I knew what had happened that day, I had the matter looked into and I found out about your photographer boyfriend from Umbria, but what I didn’t know, was what he had on you.” He says.

“I have your issue with Santos handled, he won’t bother you or anybody.” He adds.

“But I did hope you would tell me, that you would communicate about your worried with me. However you had the energy to fight with me about your job but not the same energy to tell me what has been worrying you.”

“What do you mean?” I whisper.

He gives me a frown.

“What do you mean about Alec won’t bother me?” I ask. “Did you kill him?”

“No.” He says. “I didn’t kill him. I handed him over to police and he won’t be getting out.”

I thought the mafia didn’t hand people over to the police.

“Angelo-”

“And if you think whatever stunt was pulled was Santos’s work- it wasn’t.” Angelo volunteered.

I nod.

Then whose work was it?

---

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Hi, guys! I’ve been late lmao. I know and I am sowey. I do hope y’all will vote and drop some comments to boost my ego👉👈

Okay- so I know y’all miss Blaire so so much  I do too but, like I said each book will have like almost 50±10 chapters. So yeah. As this book is the most ahead, I’d like to complete this first and then work on Blaire’s, if not in between we’ll have some updates.

Okay? Okay.

Show some love.

-November.

36

Angelo wouldn’t talk to me about the anonymous shootout at the weeding.

I knew that the man along with Roman and other men was looking into the matter of shooting. I knew they were, but I was kept out of every kind of information regarding that matter.

What I fail to understand is why?

The gun was pointed at me so why am I being kept in the dark when they were uncovering whatever secret hit or game the family was playing?

However it wasn’t only me who didn’t have any idea.

Alyssa and Lorenzo were not hinted either, their situation, I accept, it would ruin their honeymoon and this is the last thing the couple needs as of this moment.

Donna Coralyn had no idea, simply because she’s never given ideas about these matters.

Blaire was actively working in this case alongside Roman. And Angelo. I knew she was but she wouldn’t volunteer any information to me, either.

The expiration I felt toward my best friend annoyed me.

I knew she was kept quiet by Angelo and Roman, not to reveal any information whatsoever. But it hurts me when I am the red circle, and everybody is skirting around like it’s none of my business.

And I don’t blame Blaire.

She was probably kept quiet by Angelo or Roman. Or both of them.

As much as brotherly Roman was to me, I was vexed at him as well.

The habit of panicking and constant worrying most of the time, gets the best of me. And I end up with paranoia and then keep acting up like a lunatic. So, I don’t blame them if they choose to keep certain thing out of my knowledge.

Yet, I wanted to know what was going on, because I was the venter of it, wasn’t I?

And why it was happening?

To my knowledge I haven’t done nothing to nobody that would make them want to kill me.

The only bit of information I extracted out of Blaire, was that they have the guy who executed the shooting and that guy won’t talk.

She let those bit out by accident and since then she has kept her mouth shut about this matter.

Otherwise, Blaire was calling two times a day, gossiping about every other thing.

It was four days since the wedding.

I’ve been shunned and completely isolated for the last four days, apart from talking to Blaire and video calling to Alyssa over WhatsApp.

Angelo was working in the office till five and then spending the rest of time with the captains of the Family and Roman.

I only saw him during dinner and when he leaves for the office telling me there was breakfast ready in the kitchen.

There was a tiny crack looming between the pair of us, there was no doubt of it.

And I absolutely loathed it.

Partly, I understand that half of it was my fault. I should have told Angelo about the call that day, itself.

But, it wasn’t like Alec was going to do anything.

As far as I have known the scumbag of a man, he has always thrown the ultimatum around and never acted upon them.

He is a man who keeps his pawn under his paw, by throwing empty threats to keep their back latched to his.

He was a player of words. Surely his call had scared me and brought back some unpleasant memory that I long wanted to forget.

Memories that guilt me every time, I thought of them.

I took some careless decisions in my life and getting acquainted with Alec Santos, an immigrant photographer from Spain, was the stupidest decision, I have ever made in my life.

It was late past lunch when I entered the dance studio, after feeding the dogs and enjoying a solitary lunch of cucumber sandwich in the garden.

The past days has been me and my music. The dogs with occasional addition of Angelo to the picture.

I hated the times he was out of the house. The security was increased and my front lawn was a mess.

I stretched at first, beginning as usual, followed by my breathing exercises and then stretching again using the bar, perfecting my positions, the lack of practice for the last couple of weeks was making me question and doubt my dancing.

Right. Whatever, I’ve been dancing since I was five, damnit. I thought doing the pilé, facing the wall mirror.

Right.

Guess who will be back on a diet again?

After my stretching and breathing, I turned on a favourite tune of mine, a melancholic piano tune drifts from the built in sound system of the studio.

Even though, I feel that I have forgotten every step of the dance these days before I have even begun, my feet and arms prove me  wrong each time, proving my pointless paranoia wrong. Carrying me exactly how they used to these years where I didn’t miss a single of practice.

Guess who’s not missing practice anymore?

I bow at the end of the ballad, before standing up straight before opening my eyes.

Sad baby brown orbs stare back at me. Her face tired and desperately wants to go back to sleep.

I sigh, ignoring the blue reflection of mine and grab the bar once again, do the finishing stretches.

“What was that?” I hear a voice before our eyes meet our reflection on the mirror.

Creep.

“Debussy?” He asks.

“Yes.” I reply. “Clair de lune.”

“Of course.” Angelo says, striding inside the studio, his suit jacket over his arm, the free one tucked inside the pocket of his beige slacks.

“How long have you been here?” The man asks, advancing toward the bar stretched from one end of the room to the other, putting his jacket over it.

“Sometime.” I reply, using my phone to set another tune.

Angelo stays silent as another different violin tune plays in the background. This was especially a short one, a lot of pirouettes, a whole lot of movement.

A lot of facial expression.

I concluded along with the music, doing a final pirouette and a bow.

The sound of an individual clap followed from other end of the room where Angelo, stood stationary, watching the whole thing with a small smile on his lips.

“I have never encountered you dancing ballet before.” He said crossing the distance between the pair of his, his hands back inside his pocket.

Well, now you have. I think offering the man a feigned smile, going back to do the end stretching.

The glass wall looking out to the back lawn hinted that the sun was almost ready to go down.

I had precisely ten to twenty minutes to clean up, shower and get working my ass for dinner.

“Stay.” I heard Angelo’s voice, dropped slightly as he stands directly behind me, his hands on my shoulder.

I frowned at our reflection on the mirror.

Stay?

“What?” I asked turning my head back to look at him.

“I like the look of you this way.” He whispered, his face dropping at the crook of my neck, hot breath against my sweaty skin.

I squirm against him, feeling my traitor of a body already react to the man’s touch.

Cold hands, leave my shoulders and travel to my hips, keeping me in place as I grab the bar with both my hand for support. His assault on my neck, continuing.

I gasp out a moan, feeling his teeth graze the sensitive area of my neck, nibbling.

“Angelo.” I whimper, eyes dropping close as he pulls my body flush to his, his clothed front meeting my back.

His erection against my bottom.

“Gorgeous, baby.” Angelo breathes, looking at us through the mirror, his hand working on pulling my white yoga tights down.

“Angelo.” I prompt, writhing against his erection, as I feel him poke me through the material of his slacks and my tights.

His warm mouth, feasting on my neck leaves as he takes ten complete long second to pull my pants down, cupping my rear cheeks and rotating his covered shaft against my bottom.

“Jesus fuck.” He cursed, his hand travelling back to my waist, feeling the warm skin of my stomach lifting my silk top along the way, pulling the material over my head.

I watch myself, bare shame, in the mirror, a perfectly clothed Angelo behind me, his hands cupping my chest, playing with the mounds of flesh, fingertips teasing and twisting the taut nipples.

A moan leaves me, as I feel the hard pinch on my chest, but Angelo was quicker to catch the sound with his mouth.

“Oh God.” I breathed against his mouth as one of his hand leaves my breast, travelling all the way down to my sides, dragging slowly and leisurely, leaving every little hair to stand up on their go.

Abruptly, Angelo lifts my right feet over the bar, positioning me to his advantage, my responsive and wet core, completely exposed to him.

Jesus.

“And now going to devour my ballerina.” He whispered hotly against my ear, a smirk evident in his expression.

His ballerina?

“You’ve never looked more sexy, than you look right now, tadpole.” Angelo added, gently nibbling on my earlobe making me writhe under his intense ministrations.

“And now I am going to have you.” He said. “Yes?”

“Yes.” A groan of need and want left my chest as Angelo roughly grabbed my hips, slamming inside me with a grunt of pleasure.

“Gorgeous.” He whispered, his one had still toying with my breast, the other on my stomach keeping me steady with my one leg over the bar.

My eyes drop close at the reflection of ours, that the mirror portrays.

“Open your eyes, baby.” He ordered, the hand on my stomach, dragging, upwards, taking it’s own sweet time to travel all the way back to my throat, wrapping the fingers around, squeezing slightly.

Just enough to let me know he was there.

“Look at me.” Angelo whispered against my ear. “I want you to look at me while I fuck you, baby.”

My eyes fluttered open from the alight squeeze around my throat, the image of us, connected, joined by nothing but pure carnal and raw lust, stares back at me.

Angelo’s face scrunched up, as he pushes into me, hard and fast, keeping his pace steady, pulling his hips back, pulling his girth away from my heat and pushing himself back inside making me cry out from the force, my eyes dripping close as the sounds of pure rae lust leaves my throat.

His other hand leaves my breast, gathering my hair, exposing my face completely, as he tilts my face back, so our mouths can meet, in a slow yet frenzy dance.

Both of our breaths coming in small puffs as Angelo keeps his pace steady, pulling and pushing inside of me, pushing me closer and closer to that climax.

“Angelo-” I gasp, one of my hand slapping on the mirror in front of me, eyes popping open as both of his hands drop to my hips, steadying himself as his pushes become sloppy, grunting out with every push and pull.

“Angelo-” I cry out, feeling the familiar knot on my stomach tighten around like a thread, tighter and the numbness around my toes start making Angelo grunt.

“Cum with me, baby.” He whispers pushing himself harder in and pulling back. Filling me and leaving me empty at the same time.

“Cum with me.”

“Yes.” I gasp, biting my lips as the climax rips through me, sending a shake through my whole body, my walls clench around his girth.

Angelo comes undone with a groan, his face dropping at the crook of my neck, groaning, his teeth clamps around my skin, sinking in as his body too, shakes along with mine.

Sighing, Angelo pulls out, gently massaging my hips, lowering my feet down on the floor, his face still resting on the crook of my neck, surely tired and wasted.

I take a second with my fingers closed around the bar, catching my breath and steadying my heart rhythms.

What was that? I think.

“Are you okay?” I ask Angelo, my voice quiet, somewhere lost.

Angelo sighs against my skin. “Fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” He replies.

He hasn’t explained anything to me for the past days and this has been our conversation so far.

He never asks if I was fine, so we stay like for a minute. Maybe two, before Angelo pushes himself away from my form.

Instantly, I feel the weight of the utter comfort leave my body, replacing it with the feeling of a slight weightlessness.

I’m not sure why I feel this way.

As if he was distancing himself away from me.

Why?

Was it because I hid the whole Alec situation from him? And yet he still found out about that bastard.

What about him hiding everything else from me? Everything that had to do with me, possibly a plan to murder me?

How am I not acting like a fourteen year old around him and he gets to throw whatever goddamn tantrum me can and give me a silent treatment?

I hear the footsteps backing away.

Through the mirror, I watch the man walk out of the studio, leaving me behind.

Pushing myself away from the bar, I sigh as I sit down in the floor undoing my shoes and retrieve my clothing from the floor.

How can he whisper words in my ear and then leave with so much of a kiss or anything.

Where was my Angelo?

This was certainly not like him.

But then, I suppose we are back at square one where Ariel is supposed to look pretty and spread her legs for Capo Bestone.

Because that’s just what Ariel is.

Wiping away my tears, I stand up, fully clothed and leave the studio, making a note to come back later and clean the floor before putting away my dancing shoes.

I make a tour of the kitchen, the first thing, the grocery bags from earlier was still on the counter.

Washing my hands, I put the goods away, keeping out what was necessary for dinner only.

Simple soup with bread to dip.

Putting the veggies for the soup to boil in a pan, I quickly walk toward the stairs, taking two at a time, hoping to get a quick shower.

I was yet to take out Poodle and Coco’s dinner. They were with Bertie since after lunch.

Inside the bedroom, I find Angelo’s cloths on the floor, reeking of him and sex. Shaking my head, I pick the pile up and add his suit jacket to it, that he left in the studio and pit them in the laundry pile.

Great.

He was nowhere to be seen in the room. Which indicated either he had barricaded himself in his study or was out in the balcony having a smoke.

Either way, I didn’t want to encounter him right after how he made me feel.

Pushing open the bathroom door, I find Angelo standing against the sink, grabbing the edge with both his hand, head handing low between his shoulders, a towel wrapped around his waist.

Well.

As if I was walking on eggshells, making no sound I picked up a towel from the towel warmer and walked inside the shower after discarding my clothes, hoping to clean the smell of sweat and sex before dinner.

No sooner had I turned on the sprinkler, I felt an arm around my shoulder.

Tears pricked my eyes almost immediately but the water from the shower masked them completely.

“Sweetheart.” Angelo whispered, pulling me closer to his chest, my back pressed against his front. Lips pressing a kiss on top of my head.

I had no words to greet or address him so we just stood under the warm rain of the shower, until Angelo moved, grabbing my shampoo and massaging my scalp with the product.

I don’t bother to tell him that I already shampooed yesterday instead I let him do whatever he was doing.

“I am sorry, baby.” Angelo said once he had successfully washed away the suds from my hair and pouring body wash on my poof to lather my body up.

“For what?” I asked, in a small voice.

“Ariel.” He sighed, the poof stopping on mid stomach. “Swee-”

“No, Angelo.” I said turning to face the God like man, standing before me, all in his carved, naked glory, eyes swirling with the realization of his iniquity.

“If you don’t know what you are sorry for, don’t throw it around.” I said taking my poof from his grasp and proceeded to wash myself, properly.

“Baby, I am sorry, whatever I am doing, whatever I am keeping away is just to protect you-”

“So-” I faced him again, the tears of sadness replaced with the tears of frustration and anger.

“So, whatever you did in the studio was to protect me?” I ask.

“Treating me like garbage is meant to protect me, Angelo?” I ask.

Sighing, he opens his mouth for a response, before closing it.

“To protect me.” I scoff. “Fucking me to protect me. Treating me like an asset to protect me. Keeping every darn thing away from me to protect me.”

“Sweetheart.” He whispers moving closer to me, my fave elevated to meet his eyes, cupped in his palms.

“Treating you bad wasn’t my intention-”

“Then what happened in the dance room?” I ask, my lips wobbling ad I stare into his onyx orbs.

He looks guilty.

“It hurts.” I whisper to him feeling all the emotions from the last four days surface. “It really hurts, Angelo.”

He knows where he went wrong.

His eyes say it all.

“I-“He sighs. “I wasn’t trying to do what I did.”

“No?” I ask.

“No.” He says. “I- needed you.”

“And?” I prompt. “And then you realised that I was just some stupid-”

“Sweetheart.” He warns.

“You can’t keep doing that.” I say, my voice slightly raised.

“I gave you time after that day, I gave you space, you left early in the mornings, came back late at nights, you only answered me to tell that you are fine but you have been nothing but insensitive to me.”

“I know.” He says.

“I have tried to do everything in my power to make everything feel normal yet you kept treating me like some outsider for these days- and then you walk into the studio, you watch me dance, you praise me, you fuck me and you leave me?”

“Is that what I am to you?” I ask pushing my small frame of a body against him. “Is that what has become of you and me and our effort?”

“No, baby.” He says cupping my cheeks on his palms. “No.”

“I don’t want us to become like this, Angel.” I whisper, hot tears escaping my eyes, mixing with the water of the shower.

“Me neither.” He whispers, the torment visible in his eyes. “Me neither.”

“I hate whatever is looming above us like a smoke cloud, ready to ruin every thing that we have-”

“Nothing is going to ruin it, baby.” He says.

“I don’t know.” I whisper. “I don’t know, it scares me, Angelo.”

“I am not going let anything loom over us like a smoke cloud, okay?” He asks, my outbursts clearly out him to a state of worry.

“Then don’t act like this.” I say, my hand cupping his cheek, standing on my tip toe.

“Don’t act like this, like you’re not my Angel. I’m so sorry that I didn’t tell you about the call and everything but you’re really scaring me and you’re really hurting me.”

“I am sorry, baby.” He sighs, pushing the hair back from my face.

“It’s okay.” I whisper. “I just don’t like you acting so distant to me, it scares me.”

“I’m so sorry.” He places his mouth on mine, silencing me.

Our mouth, meshed together in an erotic dance as, Angelo picks me up, his hands in my hips, my poof forgotten on the floor as he presses me against the shower wall.

“Dinner.” I whisper, humming against his mouth, as his lips devour my neck, wet kisses trailing to my chest.

“It can wait.” Angelo mutters.

“No.” I say pushing him away, landing in my feet, wiping the tears away from my face. “I left the stove on.”

“Jesus fuck.” He curses making me smile but his sour expression makes me giggle.

“Laughing now are we?” Angelo threatens playfully, as I grab my towel wrapping it around my body.

“I don’t know we?” I tease placing a lingering kiss on his mouth before running out of the shower and into the kitchen.

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

So… I’m here again. Yes.

Yeah, I don’t really have nothing to say right now, except, eh- I’m early by 20 mins I guess. Hehe.

And also, I had some help on this chapter, because I was going though a block so if you feel like what the fuck this bitch talking abou t don’t worry, it’s not only you.

I think like that all the time bout me, so no biggie. Anyways, hopefully this block is over, I’m back studying full time, it’s stupid.

Whatever.

And I promise next chapter will be better but on the contrary of this chapter, we got to see the paranoid side of Ariel, welp, your girl is really scared.

Not to die but to loose Devil-o. Love right there. (Shh. Don’t tell her nobody)

Also if this was messy and weird and stupid, I am sorry. 👉👈

Show some love. Vote and comment. It really helps. Love.

-November.

37

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

I

know I promised an Angelo POV, I am so sorry for that and also I am almost half an hour late. So sorry. Yeah

But I would really appreciate if y’all vote and comment. Please. Please do so, it helps a lot more than y’all would know.

I’ll let y’all get back.

The woman sat on a white leather chair, her dark hair pinned at the back, exposing the shining diamond rings dangling from her ears.

The green eyed woman, thoughtfully swirled the wine glass, before taking a long drag of the aroma of the liquid before taking a tasteful sip.

She was quite enjoying her visit to this warm land of grapes and olives. She loved the luxury she lived on.

However, she was yet to make any female acquaintance of power and position. This minor fact troubled her greatly.

There was just nobody to host tea parties or have afternoon tea with. She was dying for a girl to girl gossip.

Door to the office room opened revealing a younger man, clad in black suit, white shirt, tastefully picked up tie completed his outfit along with the combed back brown hair.

“Alessio.” The woman piped up setting the wine glass down by the bottle, crossing her long fingers on the tabletop.

“Ma’am.” The man nodded in recognition as stood before the table, arms pinned behind him, standing at ease.

“What is the news, Alessio?” The lady asked in her accent sharp as her eyes stared into the man’s.

“It’s bad news.” The man signed with a slight bow of his head. “The girl got away.”

A sigh followed, the much older women, the sides of her eyes crinkled from age. “Again?”

“Yes.” He replied, a feeling of regret but relief at the same time flooded over him.

The lady sighed again, her anger slowly surfacing.

But as long as Alessio had known his new mistress, he learned that this woman was a cunning bitch.

She played her game calm and smart. She outsmarted using her intellect not temper. She wasn’t new to this game to rat and mouse chase before finally pinning down the mouse and killing.

No, this woman was not a sadist. She was rapacious and materialistic for sure. She was so much insatiable so that she didn’t care if somebody came in her way of plan.

She simply eliminated them like one eliminates pebbles when they disturb ones evening stroll.

“I suppose then we need a better plan?” The lady asked, her voice calm and business like.

A better plan? Alessio thought.

“Ma’am, the girl is under heavy security, the Alec Santos plan failed, the shoot put failed-”.

“ I did not ask for any elaboration, Alessio.“ The last held up a manicured finger to stop the younger man. “I said we need a better plan.”

“A plan that will not either way fail.” The lady uttered with a small smile on her face, picking up the wine glass once again.

“Yes, ma’am.” Alessio said. “I suppose you are inevitably right.”

Alessio exhaled, his jaw muscles working.

“Come what may.” The woman said. “I must rid of the girl in order for the will to change.”

“Do you not think we are messing with the wrong crowd?” Alessio bit the inside of his cheek, knowing exactly the truth.

That they were in fact messing with the very wrong crowd in a list of wrong crowds.

The women simply smiled, her demeanour not changed even slightly.

“We must get rid of the girl.” She prompted. “Some how or the other. Before I execute my final plan.”

Alessio nodded placing a file on the desk top, the file he initially came to deliver.

The woman, opened the file, revealing an A4 size picture of a girl with bubblegum pink hair. She was sitting on a chair in some shop. The photo was clicked without her notice or permission whatsoever.

There was all the information detailed about the young girl.

However what there wasn’t, was one tiny part of her life. The present one.

Angelo wasn’t beside me when I woke up the next morning.

Stretching my arms over my head, I felt the soreness in my muscles, the quivering ache between my legs evident and very much present as I got down from the bed, pulling the shirt discarded by Angelo the night before.

The black cotton T-shirt smelled of him, it almost made up for the absence of him in bed.

Almost.

Yelling for the dogs, I exit the room walking down through the stairs while pulling my hair up in a knot bun.

“Poodle?” I call for my overactive mutt, entering the kitchen waiting for both the royalties of the household to make an appearance.

“Coco!”

The sound of barks echo throughout the house as both of them run toward the kitchen as hungry and sleep strained doggies as they were.

I added water and food to their bowl sitting down to pat and scratch their head.

“You’ve been hungry huh?” I ask. “So hungry.”

Poodle yaps in response lapping up the water from the bowl. Coco just keeps on eating like I have been starving him for the week.

Mean .

Pushing my attention away from them, I walk to the sink washing my hands and getting a light breakfast of fruits and cheese started.

As late as it was, I wasn’t still out of medication and I had to eat something.

Even though I feel like eating nothing. Nothing at all.

With my small bowl of breakfast, I walk outside followed by the dogs, excited for another day of playtime and getting mud all over themselves.

There might be a need to put fencing around the garden so these careless mutts don’t wonder about those plants like nobody’s dad’s business.

Sitting on the table placed outside, I slide open my phone, seeing that I have two missed calls from Blaire.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Blaire yelped from the other end, picking up on the first ring of my call.

“Good morning yourself.” I say popping a grape in my mouth. “How are you?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely grand.” She replies. “How is you?”

“Good.” I reply moving around to find a cherry in my bowl, because god forbid I remember to but enough of them.

“Did you have a good night?” I ask.

“Did you?” She asked back with a suggestive tone.

“Yes.” I replied. “What about you?”

“Good.” She sighed. “Slept like a dog, woke up working like a bitch because god forbid Roman pays me.”

“You are working?” I ask, slightly alarmed.

Blaire- working?

“Yep.” She replies.

“Well, what are you working on?” I ask.

“Rearranging papers.” She said. “Got my hands into Roman’s desk-”

“God.” I shake my head. “Did you at least ask him?”

“No.” Blaire asks. “This is suite life of Blaire not Roman. He is point blank irrelevant-”

“You’re just looking for trouble.” I say with a shake of my head.

“Roman is a nerd.” She says, clearly distracted.

What in the hell?

“Bub, what’s up with you?” I ask. “You okay?”

“Yep.” She says. “I’m just cleaning.”

“Blaire.” I warn.

“Fine.” She huffs. “I got into a flight.”

“And?” I ask.

“And I said some pretty bad things to mister my ego is bigger then my dick .” She says. I can almost see her eyes rolling.

“And he left.” She adds.

“And so you are in his office, rearranging ?” I ask.

“Sí.” She replies. “Gonna make it look all nice and clean.”

I nod even though she can’t see me and put a piece of strawberry in my mouth, chewing the juicy goodness.

“And if Roman gets mad, I’ll just say you told me to, in that way he can’t say nothing to me.”

“Okay.” I say. “If that works.”

“Oh, that will.” She says. “Are you busy through the day, by the way?”

“No.” I reply. “Why?”

“Come over.” She says. “Bring the dogs.”

“Oh?”

“Yep.” She says. “We are at the estate, I’ll call Devil-o and invite him for lunch.”

“You want to invite Devil-o for lunch?” I ask.

“Yep.” She says. “We can have a double date.”

“Okay.” I reply. “Want me to being something?”

“Desert?” She says. “Coralyn’s book is a mad trip around the world, but I can fix us some good old pasta.”

I giggle. “Okay. I’ll make some tart?”

“Just don’t put grapes.” She says.

“Sure.” I laugh.

Just slightly before one thirty in the noon, I walk in through the estate gates, a maid leading the way for me as the dogs run ahead, their behavior telling that they’ve been here before.

Bertie .

The maid, leads me inside and through the foyer, into the polished and decorated kitchen with bay windows that over look the garden at the side.

“Hello yourself.” Blaire says, she had a small plate in her hand, leaning against the counter, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Hello, you.” I say placing the box I carried on the counter. “You look good.”

Blaire shrugs putting the plate containing a half eaten small flan pudding down.

“What?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at the taller woman.

“What?” She asked.

“Did you do your hair?” I ask.

“No.” Blaire waves me off. “I woke up this way.”

“Lies.” I say moving toward the double door fridge and finding a bottle of water for myself.

“You did and you look pretty.” I add.

Blaire makes an uncomfortable noise at the back of her throat. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” I ask pouring cold water on a glass.

“Don’t.” Blaire sighs.

“Okay.” I reply. “You also did mascara and blush.”

Blaire gives me a narrowed eye.

“Just saying.” I smirk taking a drag of water from the glass. “Anyways.”

“What did you make?” I ask.

“Spaghetti Bolognese.” She sighs. “Skipped other fancy shit, cause I was tired.”

“It’s alright.” I say. “I’ll plate it if you want.”

“Thanks babe.” She says picking up her flan pudding. “Do you want one?”

I shake my head but Blaire walks to the fridge nevertheless bringing me out a chilled pudding topped with caramel.

“Not a fan of flan.” I say accepting the plate from her along with a spoon.

“Well, it jiggles.” Blaire says. “And I made it, so you better.”.

I help Blaire to plate the spaghetti bolognese into four plates and garnish them like how Blaire wants, given that she’s not too picket about anything.

But it bothers me so I do them garnishing, putting a decent amount in each plate.

Angelo and Roman didn’t arrive yet so, we kept the lunch plates in the kitchen, carrying a bottle of chilled Rosé outside.

I could see the dogs playing about, in the sun, rolling over in the grass, sounds of their barking and playful yaps as they nibbled each other.

“We should do this twice a week.” Blaire says dropping on a chair, using her hand as a fan, to fan herself.

“You think so?” I ask, smiling sitting down myself waiting for the men to make an entrance.

I pour us each a glass of the chilled wine and pass Blaire her glass.

She sips the wine casually.

“This is good.” Blaire pipes up.

I nod in agreement.

Angelo and Roman walked into the outside dining area fifteen minutes later we sat on the table talking about nothing in particular.

When Blaire talks, she doesn’t really need a topic. She just runs like a train, and I just follow.

What surprised me when the duo of the brothers walked in, was the presence of a third party behind them.

He was undoubtedly younger than Angelo and Roman. Mare inches short from Angelo. Almost same height as Roman, clad in a beige suit.

I stand up to greet Angelo, he places his hand on my waist leaning in for a peck.

“How was your day?” I ask against his mouth.

“Good.” He says. “How about you?”

“Good.” I reply with a smile as Angelo turns to take a seat on the chair beside me.

“Ariel.” Roman calls. “Meet Alexander, my cousin.” He gestures at the much younger man standing beside him, with a soft half smile on his face.

“Hello.” I say extending my hand toward him for a shake. “Ariel LaRusso.”

“Alex Richardson.” The guy says shaking my hand, firmly.

Smiling I pull my hand away and watch Blaire introduce herself shaking his hand before inviting us all to sit.

I take my seat beside Angelo, his hand placed on my exposed knee as he picks up his wine glass with the other.

Smiling I look at Blaire who was engaged in a conversation with the new man. Alexander.

They were talking animatedly, his face turned to her while he explained when and how he came to Napoli and has been working for Angelo.

“What are you looking at?” I hear Angelo’s voice, his hand was gently rubbing my knee, spreading goose bumps along my skin.

“He is Roman’s cousin, he says.” I turn to face the man seated on my right, dressed in a pinstripe charcoal suit.

“Yes.” He replies, a frown settling on his face. “And-”

“He looks like you-” I say. “Somewhat from the side.”

Angelo sighs shaking his head, his jaw muscle contracting and relaxing as he places the wine glass on his lips taking a generous sip.

“Can we begin?” He asks putting his glass down on the table.

“Of course.” Roman nods and gestures to the maid standing behind him to bring out the dishes that we had prepared beforehand.

Placing my hand on Angelo’s thigh, I rub gently, trying to ease away whatever had troubled his cool demeanor.

What was that, impaled his attitude into a stern one instead of his charismatic one that he portrayed while it was just us.

This was what is was, right?

A double date lunch?

A double and a half, actually. I corrected myself.

My eyes shifted to the man seated beside Blaire.

She was cushioned between Alexander and Roman.

He did look kind of like Angelo from a side angle. He did.

Everything else was different.

He spoke with a heavy American accent. He carried himself different then Angelo did.

The man’s honey brown eyes lifts up, only to catch up with mine.

I offer him a gentle smile.

“Do you like the pasta, Alexander?” I asked, purely out of politeness as I picked up my fork.

“Yeah.” He said, with a smirk like smile. “It’s- uh- delicious.”

“That’s great.” I replied. “Like your stay in Italy so far?”

The guy nodded putting a spoonful of pasta in his mouth. “I like it. Great.”

I nodded.

“I’m new to Italy too.” Blaire pipes up, dabbing the corner of her mouth with a linen napkin.

No Blaire. You are not.

“How many places have you been?” She asks the man seated beside her, turning to face him.

“Nowhere, really.” Alex replies. “My flight landed in Rome so I got do a bit of sightseeing, but apart from that nowhere.”

Well.

“It’s bullocks, mate.” Blaire replies rolling her eyes and swirling her spaghetti.

“I’ve been dying yo go see Florence. Nobody has time it appears so my sorry ass does cleaning all day-”

Blaire…

I sigh.

“Florence is gorgeous.” I say.

“You’ve been?” Blaire asks a mean look in her eyes, that says ‘no fair’

I nod.

I was born and raised in Florence.

“Yeah.” Blaire says. “Those churches and galleries are something else to visit huh?”

“Certainly.” Roman clears his throat.

“Right.” Blaire mumbles with a roll of her eyes and we finish the rest of the lunch in quiet.

After an uncomfortable desert and coffee episode, I follow Angelo into the car, as a man helps to put the dogs at the backseat.

I claim the passenger seat held open for me as Angelo slips into the driver’s.

As Blaire and I carried the plates once after lunch was done with, she sighed resting her back against one of the columns that separated the kitchen from the dining room.

“That was some uncomfortable lunch.” She had said.

I didn’t disagree with the woman.

“Never mind.” She replied shaking her head. “Let’s do this again, sometime. Maybe a dinner or something, minus that Alex kid.”

I agreed with her silently with a nod of my head.

“What’s wrong?” Blaire had asked watching me only nod in order to agree with her.

“Nothing.” I replied feigning a smile, shaking my head.

“What’s bothering you?” She asked, frowning and moving closer to me.

“I- Blaire-”

“What?”

“It’s weird how Roman and Alex are brothers but both the boss and the underboss kept their guard up and sealed in presence of him.” I say, with a frown.

“Roman is not really close with his uncle or that family.” Blaire volunteered. “Some old issues.”

I nod.

“Where are you lost?” Angelo asked reaching for my hand, that rested on my lap.

Bringing my fingers to his lips, he placed a cool kiss on my knuckles, a warm feeling spread all over me.

“Nowhere.” I replied with a shake if my head, feigning a smile.

“You didn’t say you were bringing a guest over.” I say. “It startled me, that’s all.”

“Ruining the lunch wasn’t in the plan at all, baby.” He replied apologetically. “I apologize.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” I pout. “I was just surprised, that’s all.”

“So was I.” I hear him mumble almost inaudibly.

Pretending I didn’t notice the man uttering those words, I focus on the the scenery outside as we drive through the dirt road, both sides of the road filled with thick lush olive grooves, small wooden storage one in the middle of each plot as we drive toward the house.

The dogs, tired from all their activities, silently lounging at the back.

“I have a surprise for you.” Angelo said out of the blue.

“Oh?” I ask raising my eyebrow. “And what that might be?”

“I am not supposed to disclose it you.” He said, the corner of his mouth turning up, into a smile.

“No?” I ask. “You can tell me. I won’t tell.”

He chuckles airily.

“So, what’s the surprise?” I ask again.

Because God help me, if I can’t but get exited.

“I have had mama’s house cleared recently.” He says. “It’s a bit of a ride to positano but-”

I smile.

“Are we going vacation?” I ask.

“A weekend tour, if you will.” He says. “Alberto will have the dogs.”

Hi! It’s me again, obviously. 👉👈 did you like the chapter?

Now- who is the anonymous lady ready to kill our bubbles?

And what are tour thoughts about Alexander?

Should Roman take Blaire to Florance?

👉👈

Vote and comments. Show some love and affection to my lonely ass soul.

-November.

38

Giggling, I pushed Angelo against the door of our bedroom suite, making him groan as I pushed myself against him, our lips meeting in a frenzy dance of their own.

Angelo hummed pulling me to his height, grabbing my bottom, squeezing my cheeks hard enough to pull out a strangled moan out of chest, hand fumbling with the old looking knob to let ourselves in.

Tugging his lower lip between my teeth, I let my hands wander over his chiseled chest, all those deliciousness hiding under the material of his silk shirt, even more hidden with the suit jacket on top.

“Jesus, baby.” Angelo breathed deep pulling away from our kiss and pushing me away enough yo unlock to door and let us in.

I latched on, kicking the door shut with my stiletto clap feet, I grab Angelo by the arm, pushing him against the closed door, wrapping my arms around his neck, gazing into his eyes longingly, while his hands glide down from my back to my bottom, and lower before grabbing me by my thighs, he hosts me up.

Giggling, I place my lips in his, tasting the harsh wine and spice on his mouth, relishing his hand on me, I glide my hands up and down his chest, tugging at the material of his shirt, freeing it from the confinement of his trousers, shaking my feet free from my shoes at the same time.

“Fuck.” Angelo cusses putting me down on my feet back again, hastily shrugging off his jacket in the process as I push him toward the bed, bare feet padding against the carpet, walking him back as his behind meet the soft surface our our bed.

With a smile plastered on my face, I place myself on his lap, my slip silk dress sliding up as I adjust myself comfortably on top of his hardening girth, making the man under me groan with need.

“Bubbles.” Angelo warns when I move my hips, slowly across and over his girth, feeling him stretch under me.

“Capo Bestone.” I mirror his tone, pushing him back on the bed in a laying position.

With a sigh, Angelo falls on the bed. Placing my palms in his chest, I dig out his phone from his trouser pocket and unlock the device.

Capo

Bestone

doesn’t have a password.

Angelo holds my hips in his grip, moving me slowly yet gently over his hardening girth, feeling the wetness of my core soak through the lacy material of my panties.

Fuck!

Opening the Clair De Lune tune, I set the device aside, face down.

“You want that playing, baby?” He asks, a half smirk sprawled on his lips, as he flips our position in a split second, settling himself between my legs.

“Well-” I say, playing with the buttons of his shirt, blinking up at him. “I did want to give you a dance, but I suppose-”

Angelo caresses my cheek with his knuckles, pushing my hair back, tucking the loose strands behind my ear, before tracing my lips with his thumb.

“You look gorgeous, tonight.” He whispered making me flush under the intensity of his gaze.

“You don’t look half bad yourself.” I whisper, putting both my hands to work, undoing the buttons of his shirt.

Liews

! He looks as edible as lemon sorbet.

Angelo breathes sitting up, shrugging his suit jacket and shirt away before leaning down, to engulf my mouth with his.

I place tiny, wet, butterfly light kisses around his mouth, making him hum in response.

Hmmm

!

Taking his upper lip between both of mine, suckling ever so gently while my hand travels up from the waist band of his trousers, feeling the bunched up muscles under my cold palm, wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to my body.

Angelo takes his time to explore my body with his palms, squeezing my breasts, feeling stomach, my thighs, lifting my dress in it’s awake.

I sigh when his mouth leaves mine,  gliding toward my chin, softly placing open mouthed kisses on my heated skin, dragging his lips down.

Angelo takes his time to kiss the side of my neck, my shoulder, fondling the base of my throat with this expert mouth, suckling, nibbling, taking his moment, his time to torture my sensitive skin.

Making me moan and squirm from his touch.

Abruptly sitting up, he leaves me breathless, and slightly irritated as our bodies loose contact.

Angelo-

Frowning, I offer Angelo a questing gaze that he shakes off, pulling me in a sitting position and twists our position again, making me sit astride him.

“Undress yourself.” He orders, his finger tips, gliding up and down my exposed arms.

Goose bumps appear on my skin from the trail of cold fire he leave from his touch.

Our eyes  bore into each other as I sensually push myself away from him, standing up from his lap.

“Go on, baby.” Angelo urges, sitting with his legs parted, lower half of his body covered from the material of his trousers.

“Undress yourself, for me.” He whispers.

Fuck.

As Clair De Lune played from the speaker of his phone, I gently yet sensually traced my curves, feeling my warm skin under my palms, trailing up from my stomach, feeling the akin underneath my dress, my breasts as I reach the neckline.

Closing my eyes, I play with the straps of my slip dress finally dragging the silky material down my arms, feeling the soft fabric glide down my body, pooling at my ankles, leaving me in a pair of lace panties only.

The cold air of the room caresses my warm skin as I expose my shame to his eyes only, feeling his intense gaze on me.

I hear Angelo drag in a sharp breath before a pair of arm circles my waist, pulling me down on his lap once again.

His hot mouth meets the swell of my right breast, leaving wet hot kisses toward my pebbled nipple while one hand lets go of my waist cupping my left breast, squeezing, teasing and toying with my nipple making me moan and cry out from his ministrations as I grind myself against his erection, feeling him get more aroused under my wet heat.

Fuck.

“Angelo.” I cry biting my bottom lip, circling my arms around his neck, pushing my heated body more closer against him, desperate for his touches.

“Angelo, please.” I beg, fingers tangling themselves in his hair, tugging his face away from my chest at the same time pushing him against my skin as well.

Angelo hums deep in his throat as he pulls his lips away from my engorged, tortured nipples with a pop before paying attention to the other, kissing and nibbling, his tongue swirling around my sensitive bud and he flips our position, my head resting on the pillow and Angelo positioned between my legs.

I whimper from his sweet sweet torture as he drags his lips down from my chest, leavings trail of fire in its awake before halting against the waist band of my panties.

I cry out, hands fisting on the sheets, on either side of my head as he blows cold air against my wet heat before shimming the scarp material down my legs.

“Mmmhm.” I whimper when  Angelo places a kiss on my core and moves upward, tracing my belly button with his tongue, running along my sternum, to the base of my throat before capturing my mouth with his.

“Angelo.” I beg, placing my hand on his forearm, nails digging into his flesh as he teases my core with the tip of his girth.

“Please.” I squirm, wanting to get more of him against me.

“Is that what you want, tadpole?” He asks, his voice rough as he brushes his cock against my opening again.

My muscles clench from anticipation as Angelo smothers the loose tendrils of hair away from my face, before caressing my cheek, with of so tempting strokes.

“You want this, baby?” He asks his mouth placing soft light kisses all over my face, on my cheeks, my chin, my lips, using his tongue to caress my bottom lip, tugging my flesh between his teeth while I lay under him, withering.

“Yes.” I whimper. “Please.”

“Tell me, baby.” He whispers. “Tell me what you want.”

“Please, Angelo.” I beg. “I want- no, need you, need you inside me, please.” I add. A panting mess.

Angelo leans over me, his forearms on either side of my head as his lips glide down to my neck, nibbling on my soft tender flesh as he pushes himself inside my heat.

A low moan of longing leaves my throat as I lift up my hips to meet his thrusts.

“Hmmm.” Angelo hums low in his chest. “You feel so good, baby. So new.”

Oh.

My eyes clamp shut as Angelo, pulls his hips back, slamming into me again, my body slumped against the bed as he picks up his rhythm.

Slowly, he pounds inside me, pushing in, filling me up, pulling out leaving me empty, all while low groans of pure euphoria leaves his mouth and mine as I clutch his shoulders for dear life as his face dips against the crook of my neck, panting .

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you, all through dinner, baby.” He whispers, his teeth grazing my skin, sending shiver down my back and tightening the knot forming in my stomach.

“I had half a mind, to bend you over the table and fuck you for everybody to watch.” He gritted out, rotating his hips.

A moan escaped my lips, from the torturing gesture as I lifted my hips once again to meet his low and slow thrusts.

“I wanted everybody to fucking see that Ariel belongs to me. Yes?” He rasps, his pace quickening, hard and fast, hitting my sweet spot, making me main and whimper with each push and pull of his hips.

“Mine only.” He hisses, hands travelling to my hips, dropping his weight on top of me as I wrap my legs around his waist feeling him more deep inside my heat.

“Only mine.”

“Yours.” I gaps, as my nails dig in to the flesh of his shoulder as I feel the muscles of my stomach tightening, core muscle clenching around his throbbing, excited girth, swelling.

“I’m gonna make you cum so hard, baby.” He hisses, nails digging into the tender flesh of my hip. “So hard.”

“Yes.” I whimper feeling myself closer to the climax. “Yes, please. Oh, fuck, Angelo.”

“Yes, baby.” He grits out. “Yes.”

“Fuck.” I cry. “Faster, Angelo. Please.”

He picks up, diving into me faster, his pushes becoming sloppy as he drives himself closer to his release as well.

“Cum with me.” I pant, pushing myself against him, driving him deeper inside my heat.

The sloppy sounds of our bodies connecting dominating the silent room along with our moan and groans as we both reach to our climax.

Throwing my head back, I feel my whole body shake from Angelo’s ministrations as he rides out my orgasm and his before stilling inside of me, releasing his arousal  with a moan, biting down on my shoulder to muffle the sound of his pleasure.

It takes the both of us a minute or two to catch our breath and calm our erratic hearts before Angelo pulls himself out of me, making me wince from the loss of contact between our bodies.

Rolling on the other side, he props himself up on his elbow, caressing my stomach. “Are you in pain?”

I shake my head. “No. Why?”

He shakes his head pushing the loose hairs back, smothering my cheek with his knuckles.

The Debussy tune had stopped long ago.

The ambiance of the room was eerily silent as we both laid next go each other, gazing up at the ceiling.

“Shall I run you a bath?” Angelo asks after a pause. “It might help with the soreness.”

I give him a slight nod, feeling sleep surface me already, induced by our lustrous activity of seconds ago and other activities throughout the day.

A minute later, I feel the bed pump up, as Angelo leaves his place on the bed, getting up, all in his undraped glory and vanishing inside the bathroom.

I smiled contently, pulling myself up in a sitting position, with the linen sheets clutched to my chest.

My phone rings on the bedside table turning my attention from the white painted ceiling toward the ringing device.

Blaire .

“Hey hon.” I sigh picking the phone up.

“Awe lil mermaid.” She muses from the other end. “How’s you? Are you good?”

“Good.” I clear my throat. “How are you?”

“Good.” She says. “You sound low. Did you fight with Devil-o?”

Nuh-uh

, Blaire bun.

“No.” I say. “I didn’t-”

“Well, let me know of you want a sausage chopped up and ready go be a go to meal for them doggies-”

Gone the appetite for sausage in this life and the next.

“God.” I sigh from her unusual but oh-so-Blaire analogy.

“Nothing, God can do, sweetness.” She says. “Are you enjoying?”

I think back to our visit to the church, to the small shops, to the sweet shops, to the beach.

Yeah.

“Sí.” I reply, with a smile breaking out on my face. “I’m enjoying.”

“You come back tonight?” She asks.

“Nuh-uh.” I say. “Tomorrow night.”

“Lucky you.” She mumbles. I can almost see a pout on her. “I’ve been begging. Begging to go to Florance. Bubbles! Begging!”

“Oh-”

“I don’t beg!” She reasons. “Blaire  doesn’t beg but I still am, that little piglet won’t even-”

“Oh, hon!” I pout. “Don’t you worry, I’m sorry I came here without you, however, next time, let’s do Florence, okay?” I ask.

“It’ll be fun.” I promise.

“If you say so-” She sighs. “I’m gonna bite that little piglet’s cock so hard-”

“Blaire.” I warn, playfully.

“Fine. Fine. FINE!” She huffs in annoyance. “Can’t say nothing to my sister. Anywho. I’ll see you in the morning after tomorrow than. Okay? Bring me cute stuff.”

“I will.” I nod.

“You better~” Blaire sing songs. “Oh and I’ll come visit you in the morning after, because I’m just alone in this fancy home. It’s creepy.”

“Okay.” I laugh.

“Okay.” She says, giddily. “Bye, hon.”

“Bye.” I chuckle as she ends the call from her end.

Placing my phone down on the bedside table, I lean back against the headrest of the bed with a sigh.

Being born and raised in Florence, to parents such as mine, the only places I visited as a child and teen was the fancy art galleries and opera house with both my parents.

Apart from me dancing, these times were the only times when my parents played happy family with me.

Where, the only role I played was to hold my papa’s hand, when asked, to introduce myself politely and to sit between both my parents and clap politely when everybody was clapping.

The rest of the days of the year, it was just me playing happy family with my dolls in my extensively extortionate doll house.

Now that I think, my dolls had a family that was happier than mine.

The thought is laughable.

Today was our first day of the weekend stay in the beach town of Positano.

The view that the balcony of the hotel suite provided was a bliss.

One could see the whole beach town of Positano laid before him like a colorful patchwork quilt with the ocean as it’s trim.

It was one of the most beautiful  view I had witnessed in my life.

Getting up from a much needed sleep in the morning after our helicopter ride at night, I was bustling with energy.

The anticipation I had to explore the say ahead of me had no bound.

And it would be an understatement, if I said that I only enjoyed my time today.

I had the best time of my life today .

First thing in the morning we had breakfast in the balcony of the hotel suite that Angelo had booked for the pair of us.

After breakfast we walked the path of city centre viewing tiny shops that sold what not and found ourselves in the small art galleries of the city centre.

For lunch we bought bread, cheese and rosé from the local shop and enjoyed a quiet lunch by the beach and for dinner, Angel booked us a table at a restaurant where we ate and sipped our red wine.

Skipped desert and stumbled back into our suite.

God forbid if we don’t pounce on each other, every other hour, I think getting down from the bed, looking for the slippers that the hotel provided and walked toward the bathroom.

Angelo stood before the sink with a razor in hand, shaving soap smeared across his face and concentrating hard enough to get his stubble cleared.

“Hello handsome.” I teased walking over and standing beside him, putting toothpaste on my brush.

“Hello, gorgeous.” He mumbled dipping his razor in warm water and gliding it downward against his cheek.

Sexy . I think leaning against the sink as I concentrate in brushing my teeth.

Two minute or so later I was done and ready to dip myself in the warm water of the tub while Angelo still concentrated in shaving.

Tying my hair up in a knot bun, I Lowe myself in the ceramic tub feeling warm water relax my tightened up muscles.

It was bath that was long overdue. I think.

I barely got the chance to shower and put perfume before leaving for dinner because walking from the beach had been long, especially when I found myself wanting to visit every little shop this town had to offer.

Angelo was tired with my antics of going from here to there.

And at the end, I only bought souvenirs and two sets of crochet cushion and pillow covers in cream white and light grey.

I feel Angelo’s presence behind me as I lean my head back against the tub, smiling up at him lazily.

“I called the room service.” He says using the small glass jug to pour water over my  shoulders.

I hum in response, closing my eyes.

“Thank you.” I say with a sigh as I feel warm water pouring over my shoulders.

“You’re welcome, tadpole.” Angelo responds, leaning down to place a kiss on my shoulder before giving them a squeeze.

“I’m going to take a quick shower, sí?” He says. “Don’t fall asleep.”

“I won’t.” I promise, turning on my back letting the warm water, soothe my aching thigh muscles and the soles of my feet.

I hear the shower turn on and off in about a span of a minute or two.

How fast was his quick shower? I think lazing in the tub, mentally counting down minutes for the water to then cold.

I don’t want to waste this good warm, jasmine scented water that Angelo so willingly prepared.

And also because I was already feeling a slight throbbing ache between my legs.

It had nothing and absolutely everything to do with Devil-o.

Monster . I cussed mentally getting up from the water, grabbing a towel from the rack beside the tub, wrapping myself in it before exiting the bathroom.

The bedsheets of the suite bed was changed with a fresh set of white linen spread out on the bed, the pillows in according place and the duvet folded.

A small tray showcasing two thick slices of chocolate cake, sat in the middle of the bed, topped with succulent, mouth watering cherries and strawberries.

Pulling an impressed reaction, I walked over to the dressing table, letting my hair down in the process, dragging the wooden brush through the curly mess that was my hair before pumping some lotion on my hand and proceeding with my self pampering.

I hear the door open and close and seconds later Angelo appear into the room, leaning against the doorway.

“Hello, yourself.” I say turning to face the man, a half smile on my face.

“Hello, you.” He said, pushing himself off from the doorway and covering the distance between us.

“You look gorgeous.” He says walking over to me, hand holding a bottle of Moscato d’Asti by the neck.

“Do I, now?” I purse my lips crossing my arms over my chest.

“Your flattery knows no bound, signore.” I add.

Angelo gives me a smirk, leading me toward the bed before pouring the pair of a glass of the chilled wine he brought along with the chocolate cakes.

“Fancy wine and chocolate cake?” I ask accepting a small desert plate from Angelo, sitting on the cross legged, still in a towel.

“Sí.” He says offering me a bite of the succulent strawberry from his plate. “Il tuo preferito.”

(Yes…your favourite.)

“Grazie.” I whisper biting on the juicy fruit that his fingers offer.

---

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

The previous one, I wrote was trash as plastic under the ocean. So I took that down and wrote this piece instead.

Idk who read that and who didn’t. So shhh. Don’t tell nobody nuffin you trusted muffins!

Anyhwoo! I got late in update. I know I know, I’m such a bad lil person. Sowey?

Okay- let me know if you like that chapter or not even it’s just smut and all. I’m sorry.

Vote. Comment. Let me know. I love you guys.

-November.

39

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Hello y’all. I reckon, last chapter was almost the whole bit smut and all but, a little more nudge of encouragement would have been nice, I suppose.

Anyways. I just keep asking. Never mind me, I mean- yeah. Whatever.

Bubbles slept calmly beside me.

Her petite frame curled up against mine, head resting on the crook of my my neck as my hand moved absentmindedly, playing with the curly strands of her hair.

Ariel was a restless sleeper. A light one as well.

One little pin drop and the woman would be up and awake, running about the house like a mad woman that she was.

I sigh. Taking care of Ariel, to nurture her back to her old self was appearing to be tough and slow progress.

The therapy was somewhat helping, I couldn’t tell.

She refuses to talk to me about therapy.

And to say the fact provokes me to my core would be putting it, rather, mildly.

But I was ready to do just about anything for her.

As of tonight, we were back inside the safe heaven that was our home, surrounded by guards in arm.

The two days visit to Positano was precisely what we required at this point.

It

was precisely what I required to get my bearings working.

And, in about a minute, I had to get up.

In about a minute the bliss that the days prior to tonight was, about to be broken by the cruel slash of the sword that was the real world.

That was our reality.

In about some minutes more, I won’t be the man having a good time with his woman, walking around a small town, tasting fancy wine or dining at a local restaurant.

No. In about a minute I had to leave the warmth of my woman, the sweet tone of her perfume, the softness of her body and suit up for the night.

After all, alongside my brother, I had a family to command.

Watching the clock strike to twelve slowly, I sighed adjusting the toy Ariel slept with so she didn’t realise my absence from her abode.

At least she won’t realise that I have left for long enough to let me leave.

Getting up from the bed, I wrapped the spare sheet around my waist, walking toward the wall in closet with a view to get dressed for the night.

A password on the panel at the back of Ariel’s shoe rack turned that small portion of the closet inside out, spinning smoothly without a decibel of noise, displaying an array of my collectibles.

Taking a hold of my trusted Mark 23, I made sure the pistol was loaded before tucking it into the waistband of my slacks along with another gun before pressing the button that turned the closet corned back into my woman’s shoe rack.

It was the most safest place to store a number of weapon that was not registered as personal protection or self defending fire arm in this house.

After all, why would a raising businessman, looking after his father’s real estate companies at the mare age of twenty eight require so much gun power and a villa with number of arm bearing guards standing in attention?

This question does not have to be answered to any body who is not in this life.

Whose step doesn’t fall with mine, has no business asking these questions and looking for an answer to satiate his need of unasked curiosity.

Usually they fall in steep with the dead, six feet under. Sometime just around the streets.

Often the message is sent loud and clear and expected to be obeyed.

Roman wasn’t a person to be fucked with.

And neither was I.

Suiting up in a charcoal grey suit, I exited the closet, turning off the lights.

I take a moment to study Ariel’s bare form on the bed, hidden by the silks only, her eyes closed, hand thrown over her soft toy, feet prodding out of the sheets.

As long as she’s under protection. I think. As long as she is safe, nothing else matters.

The world could burn and turn to ice and melt again only to burn once more. As long as she was unscathed, everything was in order.

As long as she was safe, everything was in order.

Sighing, I dimmed the lights, walking out of the warm ambiance of our bed chambers.

“Capo Bestone.” Alberto greets standing at the base of the stair case, hands behind his back as he offers me a saluting nod.

“Alberto.” I nod back in recognition. “I need the security doubled tonight. Bring soldiers from the base if you have to.”

“Sí, boss.” The man replies falling into a step behind me. “Will you be gone for long?” He asks.

“I’ll be back before sunrise.” I reply impassively. “Make sure the gates are locked and gunners are in point incase-”

“Yes, boss.” He says. “What if Signora-”

“If she is awake and looking for me, tell her Roman is having uses and I am over to the estate.” I order.

“I’m taking guards. Ricardo will be with us. If only you can’t reach neither Roman or me.” I add with a nod.

“Sí, signore.” He nods standing behind me.

The McLaren was parked at the driveway of our home, getting inside the dark interior of my car, I fired up the engine, backing away from the driveway and turning into the dark road.

The path, only illuminated by the high raised street lights, casting a warm glow over the roads that lead deeper into the dark night.

“Boss?” I ask over the Bluetooth speaker, a tiny bud snug in my ear pings, as soon as the call from the other end receives.

“Angelo.” Roman’s voice drift from the other end.

“Behind you.” I say falling into drive with the crimson red Chiron, that housed Roman.

“Grand.” He says. “I’ll meet you in interrogation. The dock.”

“Sí, boss.” I said ending the call, taking a sharp turn toward the marina, the pebbly road under the tires of car, making the vehicle slightly unbalanced.

Jesus fuck. I thought killing the engine of the car, with a safe distance from the venue where the drama was staged for the night.

“Boss?” I hear Ricardo’s voice standing a step behind me, his range rover parked as well.

“Ricardo.” I acknowledge.

“I’m to back you up.” He says as I lit a cigarette, blowing a puff of thick nicotine smoke into the air.

“I don’t need back up.” I say moving forward to see the act unfold before my eyes.

Rows and columns of colorful cargo containers lined the way, stacked on top of the other, appearing dark from the lack of light.

I moved toward the opening of the port where a cargo ship was parked, stacks of wooden crates being taken out of it’s storage placed on the road as a man counted cash, circled by a number of men, dressed in suits.

Fucking Salvatore . I think crushing the last of my cigarette with my shoe, as the sequence of the night’s outcome already plays in my head.

Rechargeable bulky torches in their hand pooling the smuggling scene with enough light.

“Now now, boys.” I say loud enough for the scums to hear me over the silence.

“What do we have here?” With my hand tucked in the pockets of my slacks I moved forward, ready to shoot on spot, as I saw the bastards scamper breaking their circle.

“Ambrose.” I identified our dealer from Russia. “I suppose these crates belong to the family.”

“Boss-”

I raise an eyebrow taking two more steps toward the circle, the cash in Ambrose’s hand still out.

Fucking son of a bastard.

“I thought we get our opium next week.” I add. “Surprising, how the Don didn’t get a phone call that he was supposed to-”

“And so what?” A voice spoke up. “Your whiny boss sends his pet dog to do the job for him-”

In a flash, I found myself, heated from the toe up to me ears, my hand around his throat, the veins on the side of my head pumping from gritting my teeth hard.

“Don’t.” I rasp. “Do not ever insult the Don in my presence.”

I see whatever left of the colour on his face, drain leaving him with pale cheeks.

“Have I made it clear?” I ask, applying enough pressure of his throat, aware of almost four guns pointed to my head.

“You’re looking for trouble, Giovanni.” The man spat, his breath hitting my face, pulling out a note vexed reaction from me.

“Oh, I see who is looking for what.” I said pushing his pudgy body away from me, standing up, straightening up my suit.

“We will take the crates.” I declare watching the man stumble with the push, struggling to keep himself in a standing position.

“You are off the deal, Ambrose.” I say turning to face our once Russian ally.

It pains me to admit that I had trusted this man once in my life.

“Boss-” He begins, his heavy accent evident in his voice. “Boss, hear me out, it was anything but personal-”

“When you deal with the family, every ounce of it becomes personal.” I say turning to face the man.

“If it wasn’t anything personal it would be a business organization not a family, Ambrose.”

“You can’t go too far with that ego of yours, Giovanni.” I hear a fiendish laugh belonging to the same bastard.

“You little bastards don’t know the twisted way of business-”

The shot from my pistol breaks his pointless rambling ending his sentence with a gagging noise.

“Put these guns down.” I order the other four soldiers under the now uneventfully departed captain, turning to face the number of armed men.

“Send a message to your boss from, Capo Bestone Giovanni.” I say patting one of the younger men on his shoulder.

“Tell him not to fuck with me in the future. God saved him he wasn’t here tonight.” I add.

“Ricardo, make arrangements to put the crates into the warehouse.” I say dismissing the situation and walking back to my car.

I hear Ricardo’s faint voice while shutting the door of my car.

I don’t immediately start the engine, not wanting to alarm Ambrose yet.

Waiting for the signal from the captain behind the operation, I observe the bastard that Ambrose had turned into.

The man, roughly in his mid thirties pockets the bundle of cash. Not a slight remorse in his eyes as he lits up a joint and walks back into the ship through the ladder like stairs, that no doubt parts in  some time.

I receive the incoming call from our capo regime.

“Boss.” The man huffs. “The men are successfully out. We’re ready to go.”

“Grazie.” I reply watching the whistle blow on the ship as I start the engine of the car, our men quickly packed the ten crates of opium into a black lorry.

I back sway from the marina after the lorry takes off and drives smoothly toward the outstretched road, moving to the warehouse to deposit our purchase.

Ambrose has been dealing for the family for years now. From the past month our regular orders gas been messing up.

Ambrose’s pure drugs had been turning up as only seventy percent pure and lower in quantity for the past months.

Reasonably, Roman as fussy as he was looked into the mater and found out that Ambrose has indeed been double crossing us for just a little bit of money.

Money. Makes the world go round and round.

And so Roman ordered the smallest batch of opium and set staged this so Ambrose was caught and this cat and mouse chase with the Salvatore’s was put to an end.

For good.

Once at a safe distance from the dock, I dial Ricardo’s cell, watching Ambrose’s ship, turn into a mere dot of an object as the distance between us increases.

“Light it up.” I order, picking up a speed, not wanting to be caught in a mess that the whole scene was about to become.

Through the rearview mirror I see the fireworks shooting up in the sky from a tremendous blast.

A burning frame stood stationary in place of the cargo ship, floating in the water.

Ambrose you bastard. I think, a stern look in my eyes.

There. The Salvatore’s would know not to double cross us again or it would be Sonny next instead of his loud mouth capo regime and his trusted opium seller.

It is a ten minute drive from the dock to the estate house where I was wanted for whatever was left of the night.

Upon identifying my car, the guards opened the double iron gates letting the McLaren cruise inside the property before coming to a halt in the driveway.

Getting out I am greeted with John, another of our capo regime, waiting for me in the doorway.

Glancing at my wrist watch I read the time as one thirty.

Fuck .

“Capo Bestone.” The man greeted with a nod. “Boss awaits in the basement-”

Nodding I make way toward the staircase behind which there is a small cubicle of lift, aware of John hot on my heels.

“Did you get what I wanted you to?” I asked stepping inside the lift pushing a code that would take us at the basement of the estate house.

“Sí.” John agrees. “It’s in the basement.”

Ten seconds later, I find myself in the darkness of the basement as I walk toward the interrogation room.

Roman stands, suited with his arms crossed over his chest, visibly fuming, as he glares at the being on the other side of the glass.

“Boss.” I greet the man making his attention turn to me.

“Alec Santos.” Roman sighs, uncrossing his arms from his chest, tucking them inside the pocket of his slacks.

“Previously jailed under a number of law breaking activities, assault to women, holding own lovers for ransom, robbery and bailed just only last month. Anonymously.”

“How much has he squealed?” I ask with a sigh as I study the lanky figure sitting in a wooden chair before a wooden table.

“Nothing.” Roman says. “I had John in there for a while. Nothing.”

I nod walking toward the door that leads to the other side of the interrogation room and close the door behind me with a click.

The sound in the eerily silent room makes the convict look up at me.

Light brown eyes, look at me, a hollow look in them, letting me know that drugs has been his friend for a quite a long while.

“Alec Santos.” I said moving closer to his seated form, standing directly before him.

“Emigrant photographer, convict, kidnapper, robber, the list goes on and on.”

“What do you want?” He hisses.

“What do you have on Ariel?” I ask, getting straight to the point.

“I know no Ariel.” He spat.

“Lies.” I say moving my jacket out of the way so that the gun tucked at my side is visible to him.

“What tabs do you have on Miss LaRusso?” I repeat

“I said I know no Ariel.” He snaps, his voice raising.

Pulling the chair back, I take a seat. “Who issued your bail?”

“I don’t know.”

“I seem to have repeat every question for you, Mr. Santos.” I click my tongue.

“If anything I know about you, that is you don’t come from connection or money, so tell me who bailed you?”

“I told you.” He says. “I don’t know.”

“Alright.” I say. “I assume you are unwilling to answer my questions. So, I cannot but take actions that would make you answer.”

The man narrows his eyes at me.

“Send in Sammy, in here, boss.” I yell loud enough so Roman hears me from the other side.

“Sammy is our interrogator.” I inform. “And when Sammy walks into this room, you, Mr, Santos would be squealing like the pig that you are.”

The door opens as the bulky shorter man enters the room. A leather bag in his hands. Both hands donned with leather gloves as he places the heavy bag on the table.

“I would want every little answer by morning, Sam.” I say patting our interrogator on the shoulder.

“Every little thing this bastard squeals, I want a recording of, and after rid of him. Make sure his eyes don’t ever get to see the daylight and his hands that clicks the most obscene pictures of girls get their rightful offering, brother.” I add with a smirk.

“Sí, boss.” Sammy gruffs, painfully unzipping his famous bag of arrays bringing out whatever from inside as I turn to leave the room.

“W-wait!” I hear Santos stutter. “Wait-”

“Yes?” I say turning to face Santos  again. “Is that all it took, signore Santos?”

What a coward.

“I’ll tell.”

“Go on.” Sammy gruffs putting down a pair of mini garden scissors on the desk.

“I- I have photographs on A-Ariel LaRusso.” He stutterers.

“And?” I ask growing inpatient with each passing silent second.

“I do not know who issues my bail.” He adds. “But some Alessio Donati’s signature was on the papers. I was to do something for them in return.”

“Keep going.” I heard Sammy order harshly kicking the chair Santos was seated on.

“This man who talked to me over the phone wanted me to reach to Ariel and blackmail her into meeting me or the photographs would go to her parents.”

“Have you ever seen this man who gave you these orders or Alessio Donati?” I ask.

“No.” He says.

“Where are Ariel’s photographs?”

“In my apartment back in Umbria.” He says.

I sigh. “Be done with him, Sammy.”

“Wait-” He yells. “Hey! I told you what you wanted to know, man!”

“Wait.”

I close the door behind me, leaving Sammy to do what he does best.

“I’ll have men on this Alessio Donati.” Roman says walking over to me. “Go home.”

“This is way complex then we thought.” I mumble putting my hands into the pockets of my slacks.

Digesting the information that I just received.

Blackmail Ariel into meeting him.

Photographs as blackmail.

No. Who was this unseen bastard.

And what did he want from Bubbles?

“We will get it done, brother.” He reassures squeezing my shoulder gently. “Go home. You’ve taken a toll for me.”

I shake my head. “How’s the leg?”

“Good.” He sighs. “Just a sprain. It will go away.”

I nod. “How was the diamond meeting? Good?”

“Sí.” He replies digging through his pocket and handing me a small white pouch.

“I collected your purchase too.” Roman says. “You’re welcome.”

“Grazie.” I said pocketing the pouch, with a shake of my head.

“Go home.”

When I enter through the front door of the house, it was ten past three in the morning.

After resolving with the extra security and placing the usual amount of guards around the house, I enter the bedroom, silently.

A shower and change of cloths later, I slip under the sheets behind my woman only to hear trifling whimpers escaping her lips.

The lack of light not letting me know is she was awake or was she whimpering in her sleep.

“Sweetheart?” I whispered smothering her hair away from her shoulders, exposing her bare shoulders to me.

“Baby?”

She doesn’t respond, instead a little pain strained cry leaves past her lips.

Quickly, I press my palm against her skin, feeling the throbbing burn against my palm.

Fuck.

“Ariel?” I ask, my voice filled with urgency as I turn the woman to face me.

Her body shaking as she embraces me, her arms around my neck, petite frame pushed up against mine.

“Sweetheart.” My voice urgent as I rub her back reassuringly. “Baby, you’re burning.”

I feel her shiver and shake from the raise of temperature.

It must have been the air change. I think as I push myself up in a sitting position, turning on the lights.

“Ariel?” I ask gently urging her into a sitting position.

“Sweetheart, can you sit?” I ask as she struggles to keep herself upright. “Just a second, baby.”

Rummaging through the bedside table drawer, I hand Ariel two paracetamol and help her with a glass of water.

“There, there baby.” I whisper pulling her closer to my body, rubbing her arms. “You’re okay.”

I feel her head drop on my shoulder, unconscious.

Fuck.

---

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Let me know if y’all would like for me to like you know write more of this book. Okay. That’s all. I suppose.

-November.

40

Startled by an unusual dream, I sit up gasping for air. A palm pressed against my chest, I try to calm my raging heart beat.

Desperately trying to get my heart rate going, instead of the erratic beats that I was feeling though my chest.

“Tadpole?” I hear a voice speak up from my side.

Angelo sits up. Flicking the lights on, flooding the room with it’s artificial florescent lights.

“Sweetheart.” He tentatively calls again, reaching to push the wild strands of hair away from my face, tucking them behind my ears.

“Are you alright?” He asks, his voice gentle, full of concern.

I give him a timorous nod, not feeling the ’ alright ’ feeling in my blood as I feel the man closer to me, gently clutching my shoulders, pulling me back.

“Angelo.” I protest when he  hushedly places my head to rest on his bare chest.

“Shh.” He says, his hand moving to my hair, massaging my scalp gently.

“How do you feel, baby?” Angelo asks after minutes of silence.

“You had a fever going last night.” He adds, gently.

His hand still playing with my hair.

Fever?

That must be why I was dreaming like a drugged up person.

I heave a sigh.

“I feel fine, I suppose.” I reply, placing my palm flat down in Angelo’s bare chest watching the diamonds on my ring sparkle from the thin ray of sunlight that enters our bedroom, through the crack of the blinds.

“That’s good, tadpole.” Angelo soothes. “Let me go get you something-”

“No please.” I whisper quickly, wrapping my arm around his waist, pushing my body closer to him, eyes closed.

“But, you need to eat.” He reasons. “It will only but take five minutes.”

Shaking my head, I silently dictate his decision.

“Well, alright.” Angelo mumbles laying back down in the bed taking me along with him to a laying position from us being seated.

Closing my eyes I replay the small fragment of my subconscious mind that was the bad dream.

We were back to Alyssa’s wedding once again.

The ambiance was happy, chirpy.

People were enjoying, having cake, finest of champagne, dancing to their content.

Like the real one, Angelo and I had separated from the crown, lost in our own sweet conversation.

The car, like the real world drive past us, the bullet left the gun, aimed for me.

Angelo pushed me away but unlike the real incident, the blood bubbled out from his body.

Unlike reality the gun didn’t stop shooting.

With each passing second, I saw bullets come out and hit Angelo  while he withered and screamed in pain and agony.

There was no Roman, no Blaire. Nobody.

The scene had changed, I was on the backyard of our house, Alyssa was dressed in black.

Her eyes brimmed with tears-

“Ariel?” I felt a squeeze on my shoulder making me gasp out once again.

My vision hazy from the unshed tears, my heart pounding. My breathing laboured once again.

“Baby.” Angelo whispers placing a chaste kiss on my head making me look up at him.

No, Bubbles. Think…just think.

It was but a dream.

Angelo was nowhere but beside me.

Moreover, there was no way anybody was going to pull up a mass shooting.

The security since last night had been increased enough and- this-

This was Capo Bestone Giovanni I was talking about.

There was no way.

There is just no fucking way that anybody can get his hands on him.

“Can you hand me my phone?” I whisper lowly. “I want to talk to Alyssa.”

Angelo takes a second to retrieve my phone from wherever I had placed it last night.

Taking the sleek device from Angelo, I scamper down from the circular bed. Making my way to the balcony.

The lacy train of my night gown trailing behind, swishing against my ankles as I steep into the fresh, bright morning light.

The slight heat and warmth engulfs my senses, lifting my sprit by a small fraction.

With shaky fingers I find the contract before tapping the small phone icon and wait for the call to get connected.

“Hey mama.” Alyssa’s chirpy breathless voice cones through the ear piece of the phone.

“Hey, honey.” I greet, feigning a small smile, while I grab the railing of the balcony steadying my slightly unbalanced self.

“How are you? How is the honeymoon?” I ask, tracing lines on the plain concrete rail.

“I’m fine.” She replies. “I’m better than I ever was in health and emotions, I suppose. Honeymoon is grand, hon.”

“That’s great, hon.” I sigh looking over the property.

Ours marked by tall raising pine trees with bushes. On the backyard Coco and Poodle play about happily, lazily chased by Bertie.

“How was your holiday?” She asks with a suggestive tone. “Did you have fun?”

“It was a dream.” I sigh. “It was a dream.”

“You sound off.”

I chuckle. “Just tired, I suppose.”

“Sweetness, take rest, alright?” She asks. “You’re supposed to be vibrant after a dream of an holiday.”

I agree with her.

“Unless there is something else that’s bothering you.” The older woman adds.

I sigh. “There is nothing bothering me, mama.”

Silence.

More silence.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Alyssa replies after a short moment of silent that my previous statement brought.

“Yes.” I reply. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Honey-” the woman’s voice grow softer by some decibels. “That’s sweet, hon. Are you sure you don’t want to tell me nothing?”

“There is nothing to tell, Alyssa.” I sigh. “I’m just off the weather I suppose.”

“It’s probably for the journey, huh?” She asks. “Maybe you’re not a journey person.”

“Maybe.” I reply. “I suppose,  I’ll be fine after a nap.”

“And some food.” Alyssa adds. “Piping hot soup, if you will. Ot makes everything better.”

“I’ll remember that.” I laugh.

“You better.” She says. “I’ll let you go now, okay? It’s late here.”

“Oh okay.” I say. “Have fun. buona notte.”

(Good night.)

“Buona notte, ma.” She sighs.

(Good night, ma.)

I end the call from this side and rest the device on my grip looking out at the lazy day ahead of me.

What was going on with this wrecked head of mine?

What is wrong with me? I think.

Angelo said I had a fever. I don’t feel any signs of fever.

The only thing I feel is the tremors and pains of my nightmare.

But- but it wasn’t something that was reality.

Whatever I had seen was already the past.

Whatever the stuff my nightmare was made off, was the thinking I had in that exact moment.

I didn’t want to think about it.

It made my stomach turn in the most unfriendly way.

I hated it.

Absolutely loathed the feeling-

I felt arms go around my waist, Angelo’s bare chest meets my clothed back as he pulls me to his chest.

I sigh.

“Are you going to tell me what’s causing you such distress?” He asks his fingers gently pulling the hair off my face and smothering them down my back.

“No-”

“If we do not tell each other, how are we supposed to figure out what to do and what not to, baby?” He asks.

“Hmm? How are we to dance if we do not know our song?” He asks making me turn in his arm, an amused expression on my face.

“Okay, Socrates.” I chuckle. “I see you.”

Angelo gives me an eye roll, his palms gently rubbing my behind.

“Are you alright?” He asks.

I give him a nod. “I’m fine, Angelo.”

“Did talking to mama put you to ease?” He asks, his hands traveling from my behind to my uncovered shoulders.

“Sí.” I reply. “It did.”

“Then let’s go. Let me feed you.” He says pinching my chin to lift my face up. Saddened eyes stare back to his impassive onyx orbs.

I offer him an assertive nod.

Sitting on a couch of the living room, with the cushions scattered about, I struggle with the fluff, trying to get those into the newly purchased cushion covers.

Coco and Poodle lazing around, occupying one after another of those cover less cushions while nipping at each other.

“Here bub.” I call to Poodle. “Up you get, mama needs it.”

Like the royalty he was, the dog completely ignored me, continuing to chew the rubber bee toy. Perched up on one of the cushion.

Angelo walks around the couch handing me a plate of breakfast. Two slices of bread, some grilled chorizo, fruits sliced up.

“Grazie.” I thank the man who takes a seat beside me as I hand him the cushion that was on my lap, freshly dressed and zipped and fluffed up.

I am happy with this investment.

The best I made in a while.

“Why, you are welcome, tadpole.” Angelo says placing the mini pillow behind him on the sofa.

I smile at him, picking up some of the grilled sausage with my fork.

“Did you eat?” I ask Angelo, sitting across from me, his feet perched up on the coffee table.

Desperate to tell him to put his feet down, I changed the course of my thinking.

“Sí.” He replies. “I had a toast and a whole peach, thank you.”

Smiling at his words I offer him a sausage that he gladly takes from my fork.

“Well well, what do we have here?” I hear the unmistakable voice of my best friend.

Miss Anderson had already let herself in, her slender form clad in a wrap summer dress while she carried a tote on her hand.

“Are you feeding Devil-o, sausage, lil mermaid?” Blaire asks suggestively wiggling her eyebrows at me as she makes her way to the living are where we were seated.

I grimace at her tone and suggestion shaking my head putting the plate down on the coffee table, making space for her to take seat.

“I haven’t seen you in a while.” I say patting the space beside me telling her to sit.

“Well, it’s not me who is taking abrupt exotic vacations.” She sighs throwing her head back. “I’m just here leaning how to cook from mama Cora.”

“Are you?” I ask surprised.

“No.” She replies. “She called me out after day one so I quit.”

“Wow.” I shake my head.

“She’s fussy as fuck, did you know?” Blaire sighs. “God, that woman’s something. I swear.”

It makes me chuckle and shake my head as Blaire swipes a piece of peach from my plate and a couple of grapes.

“Why is Devil-o home by the way?” She asks picking on my food.

“Tell him to go away.” She adds.

“You know, he’s just beside you right?” I ask, questionably.

“Aye.” Blaire nods. “Tell him to go away.”

“Fucking mental.” I hear Angelo cuss as he stands, walking toward the double doors leading toward the front of the house.

“Who you calling fucking mental, you monster? fucking asshole.” Blaire yells from her seat aggressively making me scrunch my nose and shake my head.

“Limp cocked piglet.” She mumbled curling up on her seat.

“Why is he mean to me?” She eyes me.

“You’re mean to him first.” I point out making the woman huff, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Don’t take his side, Bubbles.” She pouts.

“He’s a weirdo. Like Roman. They’re both weirdo. Bipolar as fuck.” She huffs rolling her eyes.

“I don’t deny with the Bipolar one.” I say taking a bite of the toast. “The weirdo, not so much.”

“Right.” She agrees. “Do you know Roman sprained his ankle? It was funny.”

I frown.

No, I don’t know Roman sprained his ankle.

And- and how is that funny?

“You think that’s funny?” I ask half serious, raising my eyebrows at Blaire.

“It was.” She mumbles.

“Until I realised it was serious and all. I called a doctor and he told him to take rest, but hey, what do I know? just the complaining one in the arrangement.” She blabbers.

“You aren’t.” I reassure. “You just care, that’s all.”

“I don’t.” She rolls her eyes.

I give her narrowed eyes, playfully.

“Fine.” She snaps. “Whatever.”

“Don’t be afraid to admit that you care, hon.” I say patting her knee. “Showing emotions often make situations easier.”

“I’m just keeping myself safe.” She sighs. “That’s all.”

I nod, in understanding.

Because, she is right.

“Everybody wants to keep themselves safe, Blaire.” I say. “And that’s how it should be.”

“However, just know that letting people know that you care, won’t ruin your baddie vibe. Just saying.” I add.

“Don’t make me feel bad.” Blaire mumbles pulling the cushion from underneath Poodle making him flip on his stomach.

The puppy attacks Blaire with adorable barks, letting her know he’s angry.

The woman beside me proceeds to pull the covers on the cushion.

“I got you a set too.” I say getting up from my seat and rounding the couch were the bags were kept.

“You bought me crochet covers?” She asks.

“Uh-huh.” I nod, searching for the bag that had her presents. “I got you a crochet blanket too.”

“For real?” She asks excited.

“Yep.”

“That’s so awesome, Bubbles!” She yells as I hand her two bags of the gifts. “This is so cute, I can look all cute like Cora and flex hard too.”

We both laugh as I pick up my plate of unattended breakfast and begin nibbling through it.

---

“Are you sure?” I ask Blaire when she dons here shoe sitting on the steps of the house.

The gift bags beside her, Coco recently awake from his nap, by her feet.

“Aye.” She nods. “Got to b back to lunch. Piglet’s fussy.”

“Well-” I shrug. “We can invite Roman over and have lunch together.”

“Nah.” She waves me off, tying a bow in her lace up slippers. “You aren’t well, and Roman told me not to cause trouble.”

“And since when do you listen?” I ask raising an eyebrow at her.

“Since he broke his ankle.” Blaire sighs. “I really don’t want to bother him.”

“Awe.” I pout. “In that case, I’ll let you leave.”

“Thanks babe.” She hugs me side ways, making the pair of us rock sideways a bit. “I’ll come over soon, okay?”

“I’ll visit you soon, Okay?” I kiss the side of her head.

Blaire leaves seated in the BMW she came in after patting Coco in his head.

It was nearly lunch time. Blaire and I had successfully tittle-tattled throughout the early morning while picking up lemons and peaches from the garden.

While I made a jug of iced lemonade for the pair if us, she let me in in some rather resourceful gossip.

I didn’t bother on that, realising that would make her uncomfortable and quite possibly make her feel guilty.

I don’t want that.

After, all that she is doing for Roman and Angelo and the family, I wouldn’t want her to feel remorse over a silly matter.

Especially being here under the circumstances that she was here, in the first place.

I poured Angelo a glass of the remaining lemonade, added some peach and a scoop of ice cream in a desert bowl, carrying up the small tray to his office.

“What ever was extracted last night-” I hear the man sigh from the other side of the door, slightly open not closed all the way.

“I don’t seem to add certain things up, Boss.” Angelo finished.

There was some sort of troubled time in his voice. Looming over like a storm cloud.

I frown hearing whatever he is saying to the person on the other end.

“Roman it seems highly suspicious that Santos is saying a bout a man who doesn’t exist.” I hear Angelo sigh.

“There is just no Alessio Donatti, anywhere. You heard Eli.” He snaps. “You heard him!”

Taking a deep breath, I place two firm knock on the barely open door.

“Come in.” I hear, the voice that was firm and impassive yet troubled growing gentle.

Pushing the door open, I let myself in, with a smile on my face.

“Hey.” I smile crossing the distance between the doorway and the desk.

“Let me get back to you later, boss.” He says into the phone, listening for a second, while his jaw works back and forth.

Placing the device on the table top, Angelo offers me a smile. “Hi.”

I place the small tray of the refreshment on the desk, claiming my seat astride him.

“Hi.” I whisper.

“Well, hello to you too.” Angelo half smirks at me, the impassiveness gone from his eyes. “How are we doing now?”

“Good.” I reply, placing my hand in his cotton T-shirt clad chest. “I brought you ice cream.”

“Did you now?” He asks. “Did the nut case leave already?”

“Don’t call her that.” I protest handing Angelo the bowl of ice cream and sliced peach.

“She, as a mater of fact, is very discourteous toward me.” The man gives me an eye.

“Real mature, Angel.” I say with an eye roll. “Really mature.”

Angelo shrugs, taking a spoon of ice cream before offering me one from his bowl, that I accept gladly.

“Grazie.” I thank his wiping my lips, with my finger. “It’s good.”

“It is.” He agrees taking another spoonful of ice cream for him.

“Are you having trouble with work?” I ask gently wrapping my arms around his neck.

“No.” He frowns. “Why would you think that?”

“I heard.” I whisper. “The door was open-”

Angelo sighs.

“It’s fine.” I say playing with his hairs. “It’s fine.”

I nod. “You can tell me.”

“It’s nothing you need to know, baby.” He says. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“If I tell you, you need to tell me too, Angelo.” I say.

“It’s not that I am forcing you but if you expect me to tell you, I hope for you to share with me too.” I add.

“I wouldn’t want to trouble with work things.” Angelo replies.

“I understand.” I say. “But isn’t Alec Santos a part of the whole fiasco that’s going one circling me?”

“Sweet-” Angelo urges me, his voice ever so soft.

“Shouldn’t I know, Angelo?” I ask.

“You don’t have to, tadpole.” He adds. “I’ll take care of it, you needn’t worry about that.”

“I know.” I smile. “You’re more than capable of taking care of everything, by yourself.”

“Then you need to trust my capabilities.” He sighs infatuated. “You need to stay away from all of this and let me handle it.”

“I have no doubt on your capabilities, Capo Bestone.” I sigh. “Not a bit.”

Angelo looks at me, his eyes void of any named emotion.

“I do happen to know about an Alessio Donnati.” I volunteer. “But I’m not sure if that is who you are looking for.”

---

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

I very well recall that I said this story was cancelled because I felt that I wasn’t not getting as much as feedback.

But, I’m a storyteller. Telling hypothetical lies and weaving them in a scenery is what I do. So, I’m going write this.

No matter whatever the feedback. I don’t give a fuck. I can have as much as 2 readers that are loyal and I’ll still continue to write. Cause I am a writer.

Thank you.

-November.

41

I sat patiently with the lady perched up on my lap as she squinted, frowned and finally sighed.

I didn’t want to pressurize her.

Furthermore, I didn’t want to push her into a hole. To life she desperately wants to leave behind.

For whatever reason that she doesn’t want to share with me.

“Alessio Don-”

Ariel’s soothing voice gets interrupted by the buzzing sound of my vibrating phone. Looking at her, I make sure if she is alright to hold the information a while longer.

I mean- it’s only Roman.

“I don’t mind.” The woman offered me a smile as I handed her the bowl of desert she brought me.

“Boss.” I answered the call watching Ariel take a spoonful of the semi melted vanilla ice cream with a bite of the peach.

“Angelo.” Roman’s impassive tone comes from the other. “I will be needing you at the club tonight, brother.”

“Il club?” I ask frowning. “Sí, c’è qualcosa che non va?”

(The club?… Yes, any thing the matter?)

“No.” Roman replies. “Non c’e ’niente.  Volevo discutere di qualcosa con te.  personalmente.”

(Nothing the matter. I wanted to discuss something with you. personally.)

“Qualcosa di personale?” I ask, a hint of smirk playing across my mouth.

(Something personal?)

I hear the man on the other end sigh. “Not- not something personal. Personally- Angelo.”

“Fine.” I reply defensively. “Personally. I’ll be there, sí?”

“Sí.” He replies ending our call making me toss the device back in the table, returning my hands to Ariel’s hips as she feasted on the vanilla ice cream.

“What did he say?” She asks intrusive to her tone.

“Just that he wanted to discuss something with me. Personally.” I say.

Ariel nodded taking another of the desert that was supposed to be mine .

Nevertheless, I do not mind. Vanilla ice cream was something I detested as a kid.

For some absurd and unexplainable reason I inherited mama Cora’s absolute chaotic sweet tooth.

I’m not sure how to explain that inheritance. I’m no scientist.

But vanilla was certainly not my flavour, but than again, it was the peaches.

Definitely the peaches .

“Do you fancy a bite?” Ariel asked, aware of my eyes fixated on her.

“No, grazie.” I decline, my mouth curling up in a slight smile.

(No, thank you.)

“You don’t like vanilla, do you?” She asks scrunching up her nose, playfully.

“I don’t.” I grimace.

She mirrors my expression putting the desert bowl on the table. “Chocolate?”

“Sí.” I replied. “Chocolate.”

“And what else?” She asks. “Mango? Strawberry-”

“Buttered peacan and German chocolate.” I reply before her options put me in a coffin for good.

“Oh.” Ariel smiles, maliciously yet playful. “So you like the rich ones?”

Slightly better in accordance to flavour. I wouldn’t say rich.

I shake my head, running my palms up and down her hips.

Moments of silence follows as we both sit, surrounded by the quietness of the office room as I focus on the woman offering certain data that myself requires but can’t seem to achieve.

“About Donnat-” Ariel mumbles with a sigh.

“Sí.” I reply. “What about him?”

Ariel opens her mouth once closing it again only to sigh for the the nth time.

“Sweetheart.” I hush her taking her hands in mine. “If it pains you, then you needn’t utter the words, I can always find out what I am looking for, you needn’t cause yourself suffering-”

“It’s fine, Angel.” She whispers. “It doesn’t pain me. It barley has anything to do with me.”

But this has everything to do with you my darling.

I nod, telling her to go on, if she desires.

Whatever she wants to say, I hope it doesn’t make her feel pressured or anxious in some way. Anyway she might feel troubled is not worth the information I am looking for.

I am positive it is nothing Eli cannot find, if not but given more time.

“My mother, she liked everything posh and clean.” She sighed, licking her bottom lip to wet the dry surface. “We had a gardener. He went by Mario Donnati. Alessio Donnati was his son. Two years older than I, we played often but he was sent away.”

“Sent away?” I ask, not quite understanding what she means.

And what possibly be the connection of a gardener-

The gardener and his son?

The fact baffles me but I urge the woman to go in with her tale.

Not wanting to disturb her flow, I keep quiet.

“Mario Donnati was close to my father and having more money than he could spend, my father took Alessio’s responsibility. To educate him, rather. Alessio was sent to a boarding school funded by my father. In America.”

I frown.

“Marco died when I was thirteen. He never had a wife that we knew about.” She adds. “Alessio was send to the school when he was thirteen and I have no idea after that-”

I offer her a nod, rubbing her back gently.

“Sweetheart.” I smile. “That’s more than I need. Say this Donnati person came to work for your father after his said education?” I ask.

“I wouldn’t know.” Ariel replies after moments of silence.

“I don’t know anything about anybody anymore.” She adds with a chuckle, biting the corner of her mouth.

There is a hint of sadness and mirth in her chuckle. A little bit of hopelessness and pain.

I suppose she misses her papa dearly. I do not know how not go because a life where mama and papa isn’t there, isn’t something I look forward to.

I squeeze her shoulder’s encouragingly, urging her to raise on her feet.

Ariel obliges, holding my hand for support as I push myself off the chair as well, standing with her.

“Would you like to sit outside?” I ask hoping to lighten the mood and change the subject for good.

“Don’t you have to work?” She inquired.

“Work can wait.” I replied.

Ariel and I end up on the back yard after fixing ourselves a quick lunch of bread and cheese with a glass of chilled wine, seated on the step that leads connects the house to rest of the greenery.

The dogs come yapping, upon hearing Ariel call their names. Their tiny red and blue bowl placed on the grass as both of the mutt hurries for food.

“Coco looks slightly bigger.” I retort as Ariel with her left hand scratches the Shepherd pup while cooing sweet nothing’s for the both of them.

“Does he?” She asks with a frown. “He looks the same to me.”

“Maybe it’s all the running he is doing lately.” I say with a frown watching the mutt eat. “I suppose he is getting big-”

“You are really mean.” Ariel chuckles, the tensed edge of her voice visibly gone.

“Poodle has gained some weight too, I suppose.” She says. “It’s growing phase. They’re only but babies.”

I dare not disagree with the woman. Because for one, they are only but babies and for two, I just don’t want to disagree with her.

We finish our lunch and leisurely sip our wine watching about the dogs running around once themselves done with their food.

“When do you have to go to the club?” Ariel asks putting her glass of Rosé down, her slender arms wrapped around her bent knees.

“Around eight-nine.” I say. “Why?”

“Can I come too?” She asks hopefully, her eyes blinking in a cartoonish manner.

I chuckle. “You want to come along?”

“Mmhmm.” She humms.

“And whatever will you do, baby?” I ask raising an eyebrow.  “I will be rather busy with work to give you a good time.”

“Well.” Ariel sighs, looking ahead of her. “I for one can have some fun, just because you have made me quit strip pole dancing doesn’t necessarily mean I have lost my ardour, signore.”

“No?” I ask raising an eyebrow.

“No.” She shakes her head. “I do infact still have my flame burning, quite high, if you would, Capo Bestone.”

“I see.” I reply, a hint of smirk playing on my lips. “What do you suppose you can do with the fact that you are now a taken woman?”

“Am I?” She asks, mirth shining in her baby brown orbs as she chews her bottom lip, challenging for a comeback.

“I don’t know, signorina.” I respond. “Are you?”

Ariel shrugs her shoulders, her lips curling up in an arousing smile. “I don’t very much feel taken, as of this moment, signore.”

“Do you not?”

“I do not-” Her honey drip like voice halts as my mouth captures hers. Free fingers pinching her chin to turn her face at my direction while I drink the words straight from her mouth.

She tastes of Rosé, the sweet yet sharp flavor as if went up a good notch from the sweetness of her mouth, moulding with the taste of her, if feels as if an infused fire and sweet sweet wine.

“Angelo-” Ariel whispers against my mouth, as I devour her, the taste of her, gently yet intently with mine. Savouring her mouth, teasing her plump flesh, as her fingers trace my slightly grown stubble, tracing down to the neckline of my shirt.

“Sweetheart-” I whisper, pulling away from her heavenly mouth, looking at her blushed face, the apples of her cheek flushed up, lips slightly parted, breathing shallow, eyes closed shut.

“Yes?” She whispers, her pink tongue  darting out to coat her lower lip with some moisture.

“Do you very much feel taken now?” I ask, a teasing tone grabbing the end of my voice.

“No, signore.” She replies, opening her eyes, the same playfulness returning.

“You seem very hard to please, signorina.” I tease getting up, holding out a hand for the woman.

“Very.” She replies placing her hand on mine as I help her to stand.

“Then allow me-”

“Well I am honoured.” She giggles.

I push open the door to our bedroom, leading the pair of us in as Ariel snuggles her small frame against me after aggressively shutting the door pushing me against the hard panel of wood.

Ouch .

“Hmmphm.” I hum in her mouth as she jumps clinging to me, as I hoist her up to my body, hands under her bottom, her shapely legs around my waist.

“Is this what you have been needing?” I rasp pulling away from out melting kiss.

“Can’t you tell?” She whisperers, grinding herself against me as I lower her on the bed, aroused eyes look back at me, as I offer my woman a smirk.

“When it is to you, I am thoroughly confused.” I grin, unwrapping her legs from around my waist, peeling the thin dress away from her body.

“Oh, are you now?” I hear her breathless voice as she raises her head up, balanced on both her elbows palms cupping her breast.

Shaking my head, I pull her by the ankles adjusting her to my advantage before dipping my head, placing a kiss on her oozing heat.

Ariel moans, a heady sound that connects to my erection as the petite women drops her head to the pillow, hands playing with the mounds of flesh on her chest.

“Why you are wet, baby.” I smirk spreading her flushed warm folds, watching her bloom like a little flower under my touch as Ariel squirms ready for whatever I have to give her.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” I ask sitting up on my knees, discarding my shirt over my head, ridding of my pajama bottoms.

“Yes.” Ariel gasps as I stroke my girth, ready to drive it home. “Signore, you have a way with your words.”

“Why, only for you, tadpole.” I smile aligning the pair of us as I cover Ariel’s small frame with my body, my forearms either side of her head, eyes boring sinking on the others.

“You’re beautiful.” I hear the woman on my bed whisper, voice as soft as velvet gliding over my hot skin.

Groaning, I push myself inside her, dropping my mouth to hers for a kiss.

Ariel latches on to my bottom lip, biting, sucking, nibbling, as I drink the moans dropping from her mouth, her arms around my neck, pushing me more closer to her, uniting more than just our bodies.

Slowly, I pound into her, watching her face, eyes closed, mouth open as her small frame moves with every push and pull as she slowly. Oh so very slowly builds up, her core tightening around my girth, helping me with my climax as I slowly pound hers from her.

“A-angelo-” Ariel gasps, placing a hand on her stomach, as I increase my pace, pushing myself harder and faster inside and out, filling her up, watching her expression scrunch up, reaching for her climax, chewing down her bottom lip as she releases a gasp, the sound travels inside me.

I feel her tighten up at the same time feeling the familiar numbness down my upper body as I hit her sweet spot, smothering her hair with my hair prepping her face with feather light kisses before dropping my head on the crook of her neck, as my breathing spikes up, from the heat and I feel her clench along with me, finishing together.

Ariel cries out, her nails digging into my shoulders, body arching up, eyes closed, expression nothing but carnal as she quakes, thrashing her head side to side, crying out as I help her ride out her orgasm.

“Sweetheart.” I whisper raising my face, to find her still breathing deep, eyes closed.

She opens her eyes, hooded and glazing with emotions unsaid.

“Did I go too far?” I ask, gently pulling out of her heat, hearing her wince, as I roll away from her, kneeling beside.

“No.” She giggles. “No. You didn’t.”

“Are you sure?” I ask concerned as she sits up, pulling the coverlets to her chest.

“Mhmm.” She replies placing a peck on my mouth. “You did not go too far,  Angelo. It was perfect.”

“No-” I shake my head. “No, what is it?”

What’s wrong?

“Nothing.” She whispers. “It was perfect and beautiful, stop worrying yourself.”

“I am not letting you get down till you say what’s making you teary, baby.” I frown, moving to clasp her petite self in my arms as she gives out a giggle of protest, pushing against me, shaking her head.

“You are unbelievable.” Ariel muses. Tears still swelling up in her eyes as she covers them with a smile. “I’m absolutely fine.”

“Then tell me.” I prompt, growing more confused and cracked by the passing second.

“It’s embarrassing.” She says still struggling to free herself from my hold, to response I just pull her more closer carelessly, tightening my arm around her slender waist.

What the fuck is embarrassing?

As a performer and dancer, without doubt this woman had strength in her body along with hefty dose of stamina but that didn’t help her too often.

“Fine.” She squirms. “Fine. I’ll- I’ll tell.”

I give her a stern nod.

“Fine.” She huffs, chewing on her bottom lip. “It’s just- just- there was in nasty words today, no that you know-”

I take a second to let her statement sink in, but flushed and shy, Ariel had successfully hid her face in the crook of my neck, her arms around my shoulder.

“I rather like when you are sweet.” She whispers against my skin. “It makes me feel- exceptional?”

But she is exceptional .

I feel my grip against her body loosen. Ariel quickly climbs down from the bed, rushing to the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

I heave a sigh as I hear the water on the tub start running.

Pushing my hair back, I pull on my discarded pajama and proceed to strip the bed, before putting on a fresh set of white satin sheets.

Ariel is picky . Very pick y.

I set the bed putting the pillows in their right place and her yellow doll as the top priority before walking into the bathroom, hopeful to catch a shower and shave afterwards.

Bubbles was still soaking in the water,  smelling highly of citrus salts, her arms folded over the edge head resting on top of her folded hands.

Walking toward the relaxing women, I use the pitcher by the tub to pour water over her exposed shoulders.

“Hi.” I whisper as she opens her eyes to meet mine.

“Hi, yourself.” She hums. “Are you after a shower?”

“Yes.” I reply.

“I’ll make space.” She offers, hopeful.

“That would be lovely.” I smile as my woman scoots forward making space for me in her tub.

“Good?” She asks.

“Sí.” I agree with her satisfyingly resting between my legs.

“Much better than your lonely shower.”

“Sí.” I agree placing a kiss in her shoulder. “Much better.”

After our bath, I argue with Ariel to take a nap, reluctantly after a come back or two she agrees to get a shut eye after she slips out that she didn’t take her supplements neither this morning nor the night before.

I suppose the look in my eye made her curl up on the bed, pulling the blanket up her chin, pretending to be a sleep before she actually fell asleep.

I spend the evening working on the Alessio Donnati case talking back and forth with Eli, who had breached the firewall of LaRusso companies to get the required information.

Alessio Donnati by the picture looked like a normal twenty four year old man working as any other employee in the LaRusso companies, while continuing his higher studies beside working.

As much as his salary ticket said he had enough to meet his both ends and have more as savings as an orphan. So what might be his connection to the plan that was to take Ariel out?

Was there any connection between both the things, in the first place?

As far as I know and as far as Ariel’s behaviour tells me, she doesn’t get along with her family.

Neither has she visited them or have had any kinds of contact with them.

Therefore, the picture was just blurry about what and why would anyone from the family want to take her out?

Unless-

Unless money is involved. Quite the amount of money rather . A quick search to the web informs me the net worth of the companies.

Now that might be the reason to take someone out. Also given the fact that Ariel was the only possible heir.

I frown at my computer screen, the cogs of my head turning as I ponder over every possible outcome of the situation.

The alarm on my phone snaps me out of the daze. Seven thirty. I cursed glancing at the phone screen, picking the device up before pocketing it and exiting the office room.

Ariel was already fresh out of her nap when I entered the walk in closet.

Her hair done rather gorgeously, face dabbed with minimal makeup, lips painted a cheery shade of red. She was applying mascara when I stood behind her.

Our face meeting in the mirror, my lady offered me a gentle smile, capping her utilities and standing up, still in her embroidered robe that trailed behind her, given her small height.

“Why you look edible.” I compliment.

“Grazie, darling.” She says tiptoeing and air kissing my cheek. “I took out a suit for you.”

“Did you now?” I ask raising an eyebrow.

“Sí.” Bubbles nodded gesturing at the circular ottoman, where a two piece charcoal grey suit was laid out with a black shirt.

“Grazie.” I thanked kissing her temple.

“You’re welcome.” She said trailing her finger tips up and down my arms, tantalisingly slow as before moving to her own collection of attires.

Tease.

Ariel and I dress fairly quick before walking out of the house leaving the puppies once again in care of Bertie.

“I hope they are okay.” Ariel said slipping into the passenger seat of the McLaren watching Bertie walk the puppies into the outhouse behind him.

“They are always with him.” I reason. “They will be fine.”

“I suppose.” Ariel says with a sight nod of her head, pushing her hair back, as she sits, comfortably on the leather bound seat.

The drive to the club is short and quick. Evading the line of the guests, I park the car behind the raised building and open the door for Bubbles to get out.

“How are doing in there?” I ask, watching her sway slightly and fingers tightening around mine. “Maybe we should miss some more doses, huh? Maybe you can walk better after that.”

“Lord, I said I was sorry.” She mumbles looping her arm through mine walking inside after I hand a guard the keys to park the car.

“Are you now?‘’ I retort back.

“I am.” She pouts. “Don’t be mad.”

Don’t be mad!?

I sigh shaking my head, walking through the employee door into the heart of the club, taking the stairs to the VIP deck.

“Can’t I dance?” Ariel asks as I lead her to a club chair, a server ready to attend to the pair of us before hand.

I raise an eyebrow at her to which she crosses her legs on top of the other. “Fine. Whatever you say.”

“That’s better, baby.” I reply as the girl pours me my usual double shot of Macallan moving toward Ariel for her order.

“One large chocolate milk on the rocks please. Extra whipped cream as well.” She replies with a sweet smile to the girl.

“Can we make that two please?” I hear another feminine voice.

Jesus Christ.

“And we’ll be down for our drinks thank you.” The nut case adds as I stand up to greet my brother.

“Va bene?” I ask, slapping his upper arm.

“Va bene.” He nods returning my gesture.

“Fettuccine Alfredo Tortellini Ravioli pineapple pizza blah blah blah.” Balire says loudly walking past me to greet her best friend.

Quite possibly her only friend.

I shake my head.

“Don’t bother with her today.” Roman says gesturing the office. “I have something to talk to you about.”

“Sí.”

---

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Hi guys! I’m back. Hi! How are y’all? I’m being weird, I’m sorry.

I haven’t felt so much peace after completing a chapter as I felt doing this in such a long time. Thank you Lord above! And I hope y’all like this- cause I really did, lmao. Lemme knu if you think this is complete bs.

And just for information, this book isn’t edited. Like it’s not full proof so you might find error, I know there are a whole bunch, to those who point those out thanks. ❤ but just so you know this is the very fresh draft and first draft is like telling the story to thyself.

Also what do you think Roman wants to talk to Angelo about? 🙀🙀

Hmmm- and what is this Alessio Donnati’s business after all? (This bi*ch seems fishy to me👉👈)

Also can we like get 200+ comments. (👉👈) I have some of the draft of the next chapter as well.

-November.

42

The club was outrageously loud.

I have no idea when the loudness became new to me, since loudness is all I craved up until some short time ago.

I greeted Roman with a side hug asking him about his sprained foot before both the man disappeared into the quietness of their office room.

Two burly men, dressed in suits on either side of the door letting the whole building know, the room was off limits.

“Come on, come on, turn.” Blaire mused excitedly making me turn for the second time she saw me.

Giggling, I gave her a show, letting the short skirt of my dress flare and shake.

“Look at that booty, mama.” She whistled giving my rare a smack. “You be looking like a real meal.”

“Damn, Devil-o is in for a treat.” She added nodding her head, suggestively. “A good meal he be getting tonight, huh?”

I brushed her off, taking my seat back on the club chair as Blaire sat opposite from me, her little black dress, exposing her pale long legs. Her feet clad with matching red bottom stilettos, bringing out the blue in her eyes.

“I can say the same.” I say, wiggling my eyebrow.

Pouting Blaire shoves me playfully. “Don’t say that.”

“No?”

“I’m sensitive, you know?”

I giggle making Blaire lough out loud as well, making us fall in a fit of laughter.

“So, do you have any idea what Roman wants to talk to Devil-o about?” Blaire asks, her never ending curiosity getting the best of her like always.

“No.” I shake my head. “I had asked, I don’t think Angelo knows either.”

Blaire shrugs, picking up the glass if whiskey discarded by Angelo and taking a sip. “Maybe it’s about their macaroni business?”

“They don’t have a macaroni businesses.” I laugh.

“You know what I mean Bubbles.” She says downing the drink in another go. “Let’s go down. I want to dance.”

Well, as a matter of fact, I want to dance too.

But the glares and silent admonishes I have been getting since after lunch almost made my mood sour.

I suppose, iron deficiency doesn’t mean I have to eat and sleep always. However, the forgetting of the supplement doses was nothing but mistake.

“Let’s.” I agree with my best friend, standing up, followed by her, feeling myself sway slightly as I balance my frame on the heels I was wearing.

Oblivious, Blaire walks ahead, powerfully carrying herself down the stairs while I take a second to balance myself, fingers around the steel railing as I too put on some confidence, ignoring the slight red flashes in my head.

Come on. I think to myself. What’s the worse can happen?

I’ll fall and make a joke out of myself, that’s what.

Ignoring the small reasoning voice of my head, I still follow Blaire to the half circular shaped bar, shaking the mane, that was my hair.

The bartender, previously made aware of our orders places two ready made chocolate milk in front of us, topping the rim of the glass with generous amount of whipped cream.

“We’ll also take four shots of red headed slut.” Blaire muses peering over the bar making me almost gag on the chocolate milk.

“Shots of what?” I ask dabbing the corner of my lips with a paper napkin.

“Red headed slut.” She says raising an eyebrow.

“I’m pretty sure there isn’t something like that.” I challenge taking another long drag of the iced chocolate milk.

“Oh, there is.” She fires back, examining her bright red painted nails. “And it is fun.”

“Just because it’s name?” I ask raising an eyebrow.

Blaire grins mischievously as the bartender places four shot glasses of red liquid in front of us.

“See?” Blaire gestures at the glasses. “Red headed sluts.”

“You’re awful.” I giggle.

“Awe, you love me.” The woman pouts handing me one of those mini glasses. “Cheers!”

“I probably shouldn’t be drinking.” I say after downing the awfully sweet drink in one go, forced by my one and only friend.

“Oh shush, you.” Blaire said handing me another. “We are going to have fun. Do two more of these and hit the dance floor, aye?”

“No more.” I say. “Dance-”

“Two more.” Blaire urges holding out two fingers waving them around my eyes.

Four shots of whatever later, Blaire and I found ourselves in the heady circle of the dance floor, music blaring through the inbuilt speakers, screaming the lyrics on top of our lungs, laughing, trashing our head from side to side falling into the steps of the unmatched rhythm of the whole area.

I had stopped my heavy drinking and the occasional dose of ecstasy after I joined the school as a teacher.

The thought of being hungover and cranky while meeting the tiny devils with a pointy tail while they yearned to learn their dance wasn’t just appealing to me.

So I quit. Wine with meals every now and than seemed much more reasonable these days but today, I felt a glimpse of my careless days and to be honest, it felt good.

I felt as if I was the free spirit.

“You got them moves, Bubsie!” Blaire yells over the music, her body like mine moving on it’s own to the rhythm.

Laughing loudly, I grab her hands, falling into a widely out of step salsa with her.

“Look at you!” I holler over the crowd. “Looking good with your hair down!”

Blaire giggles, messing up her hair with both of her hands more doing a side to side flip, all the while laughing like a mad woman.

Lord, she is here to break hearts tonight. Thinking I laugh out loud mirroring her actions as I feel an unfamiliar hand on my waist.

The sensation makes me stop on my tracks. Blaire halts as well, a frown resting on her face as I turn around to face a foreign man.

Betting my two pennies that I conclude that have never seen this man. So, I step back from his hold.

“Can I help you?” I ask, moving closer to Blaire, the rest of dance floor as wild as ever.

The man chuckled, his body was adorned in a khaki suit, hand holding a glass of whiskey. “I thought, perhaps I can entertain you with a drink, sugar.”

Ew.

“Ew.” I hear Blaire breathe.

Ew, indeed.

It’s not as of detest the idea of a man buying me a drink or anything. He wasn’t half bad looking either.

He just- didn’t feel right.

“N-no.” I decline frowning. “Not much of a drinker, signore.”

“Are you sure?” He asked raising his eyebrow, free hand going inside his trouser pocket, while he takes a generous sip of his whiskey.

“Positive, signore.” I reply with a nod, pulling Blaire and I out of the dancing podium and back to our corner at the bar.

“Well talk about being a creep.” The woman mutters perching herself up on a barstool as I cast my eyes toward the dancefloor.

My eyes meet with the man’s once again. He takes yet another sip of his whiskey, his mouth pulled up in a smirk.

“Two martinis, please.” Blaire requests to the bartender before taking a second to move my hair out of my face.

“You okay?” She asks, gently.

“Fine.” I push out a smile with a shake of my head. “I have had way too many creepy encounters than this.” I add, hoping not to trouble her with my downed spirit.

Blaire asses me for a second before patting my shoulder, giving me a squeeze of encouragement.

“It’s just he looked really petrifying and weird in some way.” I ramble as the bartender places two small place mats and pours the dink into chilled martini glasses for us, garnishing with fresh olives.

Blaire pulls one of the olive from the glass toothpick using her teeth.

“Loser.” She mutters. “Probably some boring vanilla office guy looking for a good bang.”

“Probably.” I say shaking my hair, pushing my mane back and attending to my glass of martini. “Or just a really creepy guy.”

“Probably all of the above.” Blaire laughs.

I join along with her, and leisurely sip our cocktail while discussing back and forth about her desperately wanting to go to Florence.

“But then of course.” Blaire rolls her eyes in annoyance. “I have only but watched those on the internet.”

I nod. “It is beautiful, you should go.”

“I want to.” She says. “Really really do but just my poor fucking luck of being stuck with the most impassive person the universe has ever created-”

I giggle. “Don’t be like that.”

“Don’t take his side.” Blaire pouts.

“Maybe-” I take a sip of the martini. “Just maybe you have to give a friendly nudge? Or a romantic nudge?”

“You think so?” She asks, holding the glass to her mouth, pondering over what I just said.

I think back to the time when there was the rumor that Roman had killed his fiancé. His long term girlfriend who he was going to get married to.

The police labeled it as suicide. The wedding was of course called off, just days before.

I don’t mention none of it.

And I am not sure if those rumors are true. So that’s not what the matter is right now.

What matters is Blaire and Roman work.

Shaking my head, I focus on Blaire.

“Yep.” I reply. “Since he is reluctant. Maybe he’s just nervous-”

“Oh please!” The woman rolls her eyes.

“Don Roman? Nervous? I’d rather get fucked by a shark than believe it.” She adds taking the finishing sip to her martini.

Her analogy makes me wince.

“Don’t say that.” I mumble. “He is only but human as well. He might appear impassive and scary but he has emotions too. He is only but human, Blaire.”

“Look at you taking his side.” Blaire mumbles punching my shoulder playfully. “You’re supposed to be my amulet.”

“I am.” I say. “I am.”

Blaire nods.

“Maybe we just a had too many of a drink.” Blaire says after a moment of silence, finishing her martini. “You want to go up?”

“I suppose.” I reply. “Yes, let’s.”

“Do you think they are done with the meeting though?” Blaire asks as I jump down from the barstool but she rather gets off gracefully cause she’s tall.

I pout.

Maybe we just have had drank more than we planned in the first place.

Grabbing onto Blaire’s wrist for support, I walk  toward the VIP area, taking the narrow spiral staircase toward the deck landing, feeling slightly light headed.

Angelo and Roman was seated opposite to each other while they discussed something a file wide open in front of them, on the small table, a number of glittering tiny stones on top of the dark glass surface.

Diamonds.

“Hi.” I mumble taking a seat beside Angelo who glances up, breaking from the conversation.

“Did you drink?” He asks, an amused expression on his face.

“A little.” I say.

“You do realise your body is nutrient deprived as it is?” He asks raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, daddy.” I reply with a pout.

Angelo gives me yet another amused expression, while I give him an eye roll.

“Don’t be like that.” I say. “I will be fine.”

“I’m holding you to that, signorina.” He chuckles shaking his head. “Because if you fall unconscious tonight, you’ll see what’s up next for you.”

“Sure.” I reply, with a shake of my head, half playfully.

Come what may, just don’t faint till you get home. I make a mental note to myself.

“You’re a bully.” I hear Blaire mutter rather loudly.

She was standing before Roman, her arms crossed over her cheat challengingly, glaring down at the man.

Obviously his words have hit her in the wrong place.

“Bully?” He scoffs. “What are you five? Your actions are irresponsible.”

“Yeah fine, whatever.” Blaire fans herself.

“And oh- there is a really creepy man downstairs, by the way. Maybe you have somebody check him out, he wanted to buy Bubbles a drink but we shooed him away.” She adds.

“You’ll find a whole bunch of creepy people here.” I intervene as damage control.

There goes my tiny little certificate of wondering alone plus Bertie. I think as I feel Angelo’s arm tighten around my waist, possessive and alert.

Fuck.

Don’t faint. I remind myself.

“Yeah.” Blaire agrees. “But there was something awfully weird about him, have you met him before?”

I shake my head. “No.”

Blaire shrugs. “Maybe just certified creepy.”

“Same as you, a certified mental?” Angelo asks. “Or is it psychotic?”

“Now, listen here you little devil with no pointy tail, motherfucker-”

Angelo scoffs at her string of cuss words. “Try again, you can do better.”

“Fucker.” Blaire snaps. “Little piglet.”

Angelo scoffs again.

“Don’t be mean.” I say to Angelo, who raises his hands up in surrender while Blaire sticks out her tongue at Angelo.

“Immature.” Roman rolls his eyes before ordering glasses of cold water for us.

“It felt nice to get loose.” I said to Angelo stretching my legs before me, after Roman and Blaire went inside the office with a couple of men.

“Sí?” He asks, an arm wrapped around my shoulder.

I nod. “It felt good to dance too.”

“I am glad that you enjoyed.” He says. “Maybe we can get a late dinner before we head home, sounds good?”

I nod. “Can we get pizza from a local store, please? I miss pizza.”

“Sure.” Angelo says pulling me in for a kiss against my forehead.

“Capo Bestone!” I hear a breathless voice.

Pushing myself away from Angelo’s hold, I frown at the suited man, heaving, his hands on his knees as he leans down breathing heavy.

“Johnny?” Angelo frowns standing up on his feet alarmed.

This is the soldier in charge when Bertie is not available. I frown.

I have seen this man move around the property with Bertie enough of times to remember his face.

I stand up as well following the man.

Blaire and Roman exits the office room, the men in suits behind the pair of them.

“It’s the house Capo Bestone.” Johnny rasps. “It’s- it’s been lit up.”

What?

“What do you mean?” Angelo rasps.

“Alberto says this is an arson.” Johnny replies. “Myself can’t say. Alberto is in the property.”

With a gasp, I sit back down on the sofa. A palm slapped over my mouth as my vision blurs with tears.

My home.

Vaguely I am aware of Blaire sitting down next to me, her arms around my shoulders as I feel my world slowly crack.

Alessio Donnati stood, dressed in a suit, a lit cigarette dangling from his mouth. His form hidden with the small branches of the trees.

This orchard was a fucking jungle, he thought unmindfully, taking a drag of the cigarette, puffing out a string of smoke that seemed non existent compared to the larger cloud of smoke that was painted.

He, ignorantly gazed at his surroundings dropping the cigarette and squishing it with his shoe. The orchard was home to a number of fruits of different variates. The smell of fresh ripe  peaches evaded his nostrils.

Gazing up to one of the bigger branches he spotted an exceptionally large one, blushing and ready to be harvested.

Without giving another thought, he reached up, gently plucking the peach from the garden.

Giving it a good rub on the material of his trousers, he bit into the juicy goodness of the fruit. Blissfully satisfied with the sweet taste.

He thought back, roughly ten or eleven years ago, he remembered a girl with bouncy curls, hair more darker than night itself, her gaze that of an angel’s. Her voice as if the sweetest tune of lyre.

He remembered running through the orchard with the girl, that time, himself but a boy. Running for the dropped peach or tangerine. Some time for the berries that littered the orchard.

Alessio scrutinized, while enjoying his fruit, the scenery before him. The two story house was burning from top. The fire police was here already, jets of water through thick pipes splashed the fire.

The man chuckled as he watched the fire roar. The coating with petrol had certainly been a good idea, he thought biting into the goodness again.

As a matter of fact he had been waiting for this moment of a quite a long while.

When small steps didn’t work, it was time to take bigger ones.

Alessio bet his two pennies that this plan couldn’t to but work out. It was already dark enough for the girl and her unworthy lover to be a sleep and the fire was big enough to have both of them grilled coal.

The man smiled evilly at the thought.

Alessio has planned ahead and smart locating the bedroom and pouring petrol over the roof where he threw his half finished cigarette before climbing down the same way be climbed up.

It had been a thrilling experience nevertheless. It was way more dangerous than anything he had ever done in his twenty five year old life.

Remembering back, he always pictured Ariel LaRusso as a young beautiful girl, who had to without a mistake but grow up to be a remarkable woman, given the fact that she was twenty four seven surrounded by her governesses job was nothing but to ideally develop her into a magnificent young woman.

The picture of Ariel that he had created in his dreams made him go through his time in America. Where he attended school. A rather strict one. And after that college. All but funded by Andrea LaRusso.

But alas, the girl he had fallen in love with had turned out to be a rotten egg.

A disgrace to his dream and his thoughts.

After returning back to Italy he realised the little bitch had quit all contacts with her family. His cogs were turning.

What a whore . He thought.

Running into arms of men who had money, when she should have been with her family. Waiting for him!

Not running away with this bastard of a man.

Filthy, rotten piece of garbage is what she was.

A money hungry cunning bitch.

She deserved what came for her. Alessio thought. The bitch deserved it and a whole lot of more.

The fire fighters were almost successful in distinguishing the fire by now.

It had been more than forty five minutes he had flicked his burning cigarette onto the petrol slicked roof, even if nothing, Alessio was sure the bitch was gone.

But at least it was way less painful than he thought he had to make it. Alessio thought there might be some way to save the girl.

If he saved her, he could have moulded her into a nice homemaker. And with her father’s fortune she would hardly ever have to work!

She could have lived a good life.

Only if she followed the rules.

And so, he found out whatever the little whore was up to after she her father’s care and planned accordingly. Nothing but a good old combustion had worked till now.

Alessio’s concentration from expressing his heavy loathing toward the girl had turned when he say heavy lights flooding the property.

“Cazzo.” He cussed moving behind a thick apple tree, that gave a clear view to the front of the property, but kept him perfectly hidden nevertheless.

A sleek black sports car drove in through the gates. Out came, like a lightening bolt a petite, pink haired woman. Her body clad in a silver mini dress, feet clad in glittering heels as she moved toward the burnt house.

A man held her back as she lounged her small frame toward the half burnt half left house, stumbling to her feet.

“Cazzo.” Alessio spat in the ground, dropping his half eaten peach.

With rage swirling up his body he watched the pair of them sink on to the ground. The man consoling the woman whose cries pierced through the night.

Two more figures emerged from another vehicle. Another man and a women.

The woman looked alert, a pistol on her hand as she sank down beside the crying woman stroking her hair while she buried her face on her neck, crying.

“Fucking bitch.” Alessio muttered, slight louder than he meant.

The sound airy albeit sharp had caught the ear of the man who was still alert and in guard. As if from reflex he drew his gun, whipping his head toward his direction.

Alessio took cautious steps back, his breath caught in his throat. Just outside the property his car was parked and he had planed a clean escape.

“Chi è la?” The man roared. His voice sharp and strong.

(Who’s there?)

Alessio kept mum, held his head up, taking confident steps toward his escape, silent.

He must succeed in his next ploy. He thought moving toward a safe exit. He must. Or he will loose everything.

And he didn’t want to loose nothing. Nothing at all.

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Hello, beautiful gorgeous women! I hope y’all are well, fine, happy, smiling, laughing, having a good or night based on your zone. Today was one of those good days for me. These are rare but definitely worth it.

Anyways! I hope y’all great and happy! And I hope I did make you day/night a tad bit better. Have a good time.

Let me know of y’all like this piece?

And also👉👈

What do you think, how Ariel will cope with this news?😿

Will this affect Ariel and Angel?😽 in a good way? Or bad?😽

Do you think we are in for Blaire and Angelo brother sister bond after this?🙀🙀

(Also I hoped for 200 comments yesterday. Didn’t get em. Nvm complaining. Can we get this to 220+? Pretty please? And like 170+ votes? It really helps with the ranking and getting the story to more people! Please help your girl out, okay? Pretty please?)

-November

43

When I wake, I find myself in a fluff of clouds. Fine Italian linen, white with yellow flower prints covered my naked body like peplos. I sighed.

“Well, good morning.” I hear my best friend mutter from beside me. She was dressed elegantly.

Her voice undoubtedly had startled me, realising my naked skin under the sheets, I clutch the linens for life looking at the women sitting on the edge of the bed, legs crossed, looking at me like a cartoon character, blinking rather forcefully.

“G-good morning.” I replied, sitting up, the linens hiding my breasts as I sit up, assessing the unfamiliar surroundings.

“Is this how you look everyday when you get up?” Blaire asks, frowning.

Her frown makes me frown as well.

Like how?

A mess?

“What-” Frowning, I offer the well dressed woman a confused expression.

“No wonder why Devil-o wouldn’t let go of you.” She says standing up, I hear her heels against the floor as she stretches her arm above her head.

“What are you on about?” I ask, falling back on the bed, pulling the covers to my chest once again.

I don’t recall falling asleep last night.

The last scene I remember from the night prior was pulling up to the house, ripping the car door open as i hurriedly got out of the vehicle, claustrophobic to the confinement as I watched the house burning. The roof to be exact.

Immobile, shocked and unable to gauge anything, I stood still like a stone statue watching the roof burn as if it were a movie staged right in front of my eyes.

The yellow red blue flames soaring up high into the night sky. Painting the dark canvas with horrible, horrible art work of lost memories and burnt smoke.

Standing on the front yard, I felt my world break and burn with the flames. Feeling every little memory turn into vapor.

I recalled all the laughter and smiles. I recalled Blaire’s yelling that she was home. Angelo’s constant barging in with his shoes on.

“Come on, tadpole.” Angelo had said, his voice slightly cracked as I knelt on the freshly grown grass, screaming, yelling, crying for anybody-

somebody to stop my home from burning to ashes, vaguely remembering Bertie and Blaire by my side, the dogs cowering, scared of my unkempt reaction.

I don’t remember much after that other than I clung to Angelo, whispering things like, ’ why? What did we ever do to anybody? ’

“Where are we?” I ask, looking up at the high ceiling, painted .

“Oh, in a hotel.” Blaire muses, examining her nails, laying down beside me, pulling the covers to her chest again, sharing it with me.

“In a hotel?” I ask turning to face her.

“Yes.” She agrees. “In Florence. I can’t pronounce your spaghetti tortellini hotel name, sorry.”

Despite of the grey cloud looming over my mood and the turn that life took last night, her humor makes me laugh.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love this country.” She says.

“It doesn’t have a bitchy weather like London, as if her boyfriend is fucking her best friend . I love the food, the people are kind and lovely. I love the shops and all but just the language though-”

I chuckle.

“I can’t seem to understand any.” She complains.

“Maybe you should get a tutor.” I say, looking up at the ceiling.

“Maybe.” Blaire huffs. “I feel left out because everybody don’t want to speak English.”

I nod. “Reasonable.”

She nods.

A short silence follows us as Blaire sighs again. “How do you feel?” She asks.

“I don’t know.” I reply to my friend.

“I’m sorry.” She adds.

“Not you fault, bubs.” I say. “You didn’t do nothing.”

“I have this raging anger through me.” She says covering her eyes with her fingers, peaking out from thee gaps. “Like whichever mother fuckers did this, I want to hurt him. Like really bad.”

I shake my head.

“Like- like I want to really hurt him.” She adds. “Does that make me a bad person?”

“You’re angry.” I reply. “You want to show your anger, it does not make you or anybody a bad person.”

“However, if you do really really hurt him, it makes you unreasonable.” I add.

“People aren’t good or bad, they’re just-” I throw my hand toward the ceiling, ad if throwing a handful of imaginary dust at the ceiling.

“They’re just- misguided. Brain washed. Mid understood.” I say, not quiet finding the right word to voice my thoughts.

“I really like your concept, bubbles.” Blaire says. “But I don’t believe you. People are good and bad. Like you’re good and Janice is bad. She is a bitch. She’s greedy. She’s mean.”

“Blaire!” I warn. “She’s your mother.”

“I’ll tell you what.” Blaire looks at me. “Coralyn has been more of a mother to me in these past weeks than Janice has been in twenty years and also, she can fuck right off with her money and all that malarkey.”

I shake my head.

Sometimes making Blaire understand was the hardest job anybody can bestow me with. So I don’t bother her with her sudden outburst with anger with her mom.

“Are you excited?” I guess turning to face her, popping myself up on my elbow. “For your tour?”

Blaire shrugs. “I’ll see, when you feel well.”

I look at the women perplexed. “You are waiting up for me?”

“Isn’t that obvious?” She asks as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I don’t know nothing about this place, I don’t know your spaghetti language- so obviously I need a guide.”

I laugh, shaking my head.

“But I know you might not want to go and sightsee with me or stuff your face with street foods when you aren’t feeling that grand.” Blaire says.

I frown. “Blaire- don’t treat me like a glass doll, please.”

“I am grand. And I will gladly go with you to wherever you want-”

But the woman ignores me. “So this trip to Florence, let’s be lazy and get drunk and have ice cream.”

“I can get dressed if you want to catch a breakfast at the local store.” I say getting up hoping this mad hatter will change her mine for a change. “It will but take a minute-”

“Bubbles-” Blaire warns. “I said what I said. I want to spend this trip being lazy as fuck. Okay? You in or out?”

“Blaire-”

“In or out, woman?” She glares at me playfully.

“In.” I reply with a slight nod. “In.”

“Now that’s good.” Blaire pipes up. “One thing we be agreeing this morning.”

I chuckle, securing a knot of the sheets around and under my arms as Blaire dials the number to the room service.

“Ciao, room service?” She asks. “We need a breakfast platter for two. One litre tubs of ice cream, vanilla and dark chocolate please, if you will. We’re depressed.”

I laugh.

“And we’re sad too, so send some chocolates as well.” Blaire ends the call.

“You are crazy.” I day getting up from the bed.

“I’d do just about anything for you, bubbles.” She replies to my accusation.

I smile with a shake of my head. “I’d do anything for you too, Blaire.”

We fall silent after that, as I walk toward the balcony door, pushing the blinds toward the sides, I push open the door, letting the fresh morning air in to the room.

“What’s in the breakfast platter?” I ask, unmindful, my gaze drifting over to the vast properties of the hotel we resided in.

It was undoubtedly one of those suits at the back, that had absolute privacy. From tourists as well as locals.

“I don’t know.” Blaire replies. “We’ll just figure out when it gets here.”

I nod, absentmindedly.

“All your stuff is here though.” Blaire says. I hear her heels clicking against the floor as she too enters the balcony standing beside me. “And your jeweleries.”

I nod.

“Only the top burned.” Blaire adds. “Y’all just have to rebuild the roof, everything is pretty much okay.”

I nod again.

“Alyssa and Cora send you presents too.” She adds. “I might have peaked.”

“Why presents?” I ask.

She shrugs. “Maybe because they were totally kept away from what was going on and probably they wanted to be there for you.”

I nod. “I suppose.”

“Yeah.” Blaire sighs. “You’re worrying me.”

“How so?” I ask frowning.

“Your lack of emotions is worrying me.” She says flatly.

“I’m fine, Blaire.” I reply. “Really.”

She hums nodding.

“It’s not too late to get into sightseeing and stuff our face with street food.” I offer.

“Nah.” She says. “I’m good.”

I nod.

“There is a bar in this hotel. We can get shit faced at night and not worry about creepy men.”

“I conquer.” I laugh. “But creepy men are everywhere.”

“True.” Blaire pouts.

Blaire and I have breakfast that was delivered by room service in a circular table with white linen table cloth.

Fancy.

The breakfast was an expensive assortment of fruits along with cheese. Half boiled eggs with fresh baked sliced bread arrangement of mini croissants and some other sweets. Macaroons.

I love macaroons .

After our breakfast, Blaire says she would need to take care of Roman and his limp self.

I totally don’t want to go where she means anything but his sprained ankle.

After Blaire leaves, I call the room service who comes in a moment later to clean up the setting and after I lay down on the bed watching the gold painting on the high raised ceiling.

I wonder if it’s hand painted.

This is an old hotel, there is a hundred percent guess that it might be hand painted, then my gaze shifts to the small setting with a small circular table and two chairs.

On both the chairs there were bags. On one chair it was mine and Angelo’s duffel bags and on the other there were a number of bags. Branded bags.

I sighed turning to my side.

I wish Blaire would be back already to fill up the gaping hole in my body that I feel right now.

Or Angelo.

I haven’t seen him since he coaxed me up from the grass and lead me inside the car while the firefighters worked tirelessly to stop the fire.

I didn’t want to leave the house. I didn’t care if it was burnt or ruined or broken or even if we didn’t have a bed to sleep in.

I didn’t care.

It was the first place that was slowly becoming very very personal to me.

A safe abode where I can smile and laugh and cry and be sad but still somehow content for whatever reason.

I missed it terribly. I missed our bed. I missed the linen on our bed. I missed the kitchen. I missed the lawn.

Everything.

Sighing, I reached for my phone. It had been laying on the bedside table top, silent and dark like always. When I unlock the device, there are missed calls from Alyssa and Coralyn both.

I try to call Alyssa first but her number says out of range so I call Coralyn who picks up on the second ring.

“My sweet nugget.” She answers. “How are you?”

“Hello, sweetness.” I reply. “I’m- I’m fine.” I sigh.

“I know bub.” She replies but I can tell that she was awkward.

Which I completely understand given that it was a stupid situation indeed.

“But don’t you worry, baby. Everything will be better than it ever was.” She adds.

Her words make me smile. Its nothing exceptional, just simple words of reassurance.

But it’s the way she says them. Like she was reassuring her child.

And I like that.

“I hope so.” I reply. “How are you?”

“Good.” She says. “I send you some gifts.”

“Thank you.” I sigh. “There was no need for them-”

“Don’t be silly.” The older woman said. “I wish I could be there with you but-”

“I understand.” I say with a sigh.

“You didn’t even let us know about the shoot out and all that you are going through, sweetness.” She cooes.

I chuckle with a shake of my head. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

“I am a mom, Ariel.” She says. “I cannot but worry for my kids . Especially when they are hiding deadly things from me.”

“Awe, but I’ll be fine though.” I reply hoping to lighten the mood.

I feel as if Coralyn was feeling unimportant being kept away form every little thing that was going on these days.

And suddenly all these coming into view was too much for her to handle.

This was probably the only reason Roman and Angelo didn’t want to tell her nothing.

“I know, maa.” She sighs. “I always wanted a baby girl but yeah whatever. I sent you some candies, share them. Okay?”

“Yes.” I laugh. “I’ll share them with Blaire.”

“Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetness.” I reply with a laugh. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Yes.” She squeals. “Have fun in Florence. Make some memories.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll let you go. Need to make lunch, okay?”

“Okay, mummy.” I giggle. “I’ll call you soon.”

“Please do.” She sighs before I offer her I a ’ I promise I will ’

Coralyn ends the call leaving me alone with the silence once again.

I would take anything but silence as of this moment.

Anything but silence because, in my presence, all I can see is the flames.

All I Hear is the commotion of everybody who was working to save our house.

The only thing I can feel in silence is how I could do nothing but sit motionless on the grass as I saw the flames, those ruthless flames engulf my house like a monster.

Sighing I turned to my side, swiping my phone unlock once again, I scrolled through my contracts.

Angelo, Alyssa, Blaire, Coralyn, Roman. That’s about it. I think. Those are the only person on my contact list.

But- but, they are the only one who matters. I think. Drawing a breath into my lungs, I dial Angelo’s cell.

I haven’t seen that man since he helped me into the car, pulling me away from our burning property.

Momentarily, I think about Coco and Poodle. Angelo had them last night. Bertie showed up from the mass of fire workers, both of those puppies clutched tight to his arm, his left arm scorched by a good measure.

He went to save Poodle who had abruptly ran into the house as soon as the fire started. Bertie had assured me it was nothing he couldn’t handle.

I dial Angelo’s cell not wanting to think about the horrific situations of the night prior.

’ The number you are trying to reach is busy now’ the operator’s recording said before the call automatically disconnected making me roll my eyes.

’ Where are you ?’ I typed a quick text waiting for the tiny bubbles to appear on the screen while I stare at the blank frame of the message page.

The bubbles don’t appear after a minute. Naturally annoyed I throw the phone on the bed beside me, getting up for a much required bath.

I fill the tub with warm water while rummaging the hotel provided sanitary items to look for some bath salts.

Coming out empty hand, I pick their strawberry scented bubble bath pouring some of the soapy liquid in to the water as it starts bubbling almost immediately spreading the bathroom with the strawberry tone.

I sigh. I am not a fan of strawberry essence albeit the fruit had a especial place in my heart.

However I don’t even prefer bubble bath. A simple citrus salt would do instead of a fancy bottle of bubble bath.

Pondering over whatever the reason was behind my headache, I untied the sheet, letting the linen cascade down my body, covering me up with chills.

Weird, I think.

Florence weather is reasonably warm but yet I feel somewhat cold. Sighing I place myself into the warm water.

Slight change in the temperature covers away the goosebumps on my skin.

“Buongiorno.” I hear.

The voice makes me turn my head toward the doorway where Angelo stands. A mess.

His hair as if has been the constant victim of his hand running though them. He was still in the same cloths that of the night prior.

“Buongiorno.” I replied in the same monotone, mirroring his.

Why does his voice sound like this? I think.

So distant and empty.

It hasn’t been this way for sometime now. The thought troubles me.

What was wrong?

Did I render him some wrong notion that he didn’t like.

So far I only remember getting into the car with him.

A slight uncomfortable silence follows us.

Okay, Bubbles. I say to myself, consoling. Breathe. Calm down. Breathe.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

“You were gone for a while.” I mumble scooping up some of the suds from the tub and rubbing on my arms.

“I was.” He replies. “How do you feel?”

Scared. Really scared, Angelo.

I shrug to his question instead of offering him a verbal answer.

Angelo sighs.

“Where were you?” I ask, wanting for this unusual silence and monotone between us pass for good.

It’s never welcoming. This grey feeling.

I loathe it.

“Why?” He asks as if offended for some reason.

“Simply asking, Angelo.” I reply. “You don’t have to answer the question with a question.”

He stays quiet but I can sense his presence behind me. His piercing gaze at the back of my head.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to tell-”

“I don’t.” He snaps.

Okay .

I nod.

“I don’t want to tell you Ariel.” He says. “Not every time you need to know my whereabouts.”

“If you say so.” I reply, meekly, trying to his the slight ping of hurt, focussing to wash myself with the slippery soap suds before finally giving up and pulling the plug to drain water.

There was a small rug before the tub so the floor doesn’t get wet, stepping on the rug, I make a beeline to the shower, hoping to scrub the slippery stupid soap like stuff off me.

But no matter how much I scrub on my already red skin with the poof like loofah, the slickness of my skin doesn’t go away.

“Stupid soap.” I cuss throwing the mesh like flower loofah on the floor, feeling my eyes prick with red hot tears, finally a sob breaking out of my chest.

I tap my head against the marble shower wall, feeling the small thumps matching my heartbeat as I sob, cry my eyes out, my legs giving away as I slide all the way to the shower floor, arms hugging myself, as I rock my body back and forth.

A coping method that isn’t healthy but somewhat helpful.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Hello! Hey guys! Its been long lmao. Sorry for disappearing for eight solid days. I’ve- I’ve had it bad.

There was some issues I needed to figure put but whatever that was, glad it’s over and what not. I apologise for the depressing chapter which makes no sense.

Also, why do you think Angel is being an asshole again?

Is this going to hurt bubbles?

What do you guess for the next chapter?

Let me know, okay? Okay! Also please please please vote and comment if you are reading. Like I said y’all response makes this book available to many more people through feedback and ranking.

I love y’all!

-November.

44

Vaguely I remember Angelo slipping in to the shower.

The warm spray of water wetting his clothes as he slid down with me, picking me up on his lap, rocking me back and forth until my tears stopped.

Until my breaths fall back to normal instead of gasps.

Taking his time the man used warm woolly towel to dry my body as well my hair  before draping a silk robe around me while I caught my expressionless face in the mirror.

Two very red eyes stare back at me. Cheeks puffed up from crying, head a swirl of unnamed emotions.

Angelo’s eyes meet mine in the mirror briefly.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles dropping his head, placing a kiss on my shoulder, adjusting my robe, trying the string around my stomach.

“I shouldn’t have snapped at you, at all.” He adds.

“Are you?” I ask in a hushed tone.

“Sorry?” I add. “Are you?”

“I am baby.” He whispers once again. “I am. I didn’t realise- I suppose-”

“Don’t snap at me, Angelo.” I say. “I’m suffering the same loss as you. Nothing gives you the right to snap at me.”

“Sí, tesoro. Mi dispiace.” He sighs, his head dropping to my shoulder again, placing butterfly light kisses, travelling way upward to my neck.

(Yes, sweetheart. Forgive me/ I’m sorry)

“Angelo.” I warn followed by a sigh, my hands gripping the edge of the sink slab.

“Sweetheart?” He asks lifting his face. Eyes meeting mine in the mirror. “What is it?”

I sigh. “I’m really cold.”

Angelo flashes me one of this rare half smile shaking his head.

“Let’s get you warmed up then.” He says ushering me out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist only.

“Where are we?” I ask as the man urges for me to take a seat on the bed. Unquestionably I do so.

“Villa Agape.” Angelo says. “Why?”

I frown as he pours me a cup of steaming tea handing it over before busying himself to look for some garments of his own.

“Blaire said she couldn’t pronounce the spaghetti tortellini name so I thought-”

Angelo sighs. “If she can pronounce spaghetti tortellini she can undoubtedly say this. Mental that one-”

“You’re being mean.” I state taking a sip of the hot and sweet lemon tea.

Shaking his head he drops the towel from his hips proceeding to pull on a pair of grey silk pajama bottom.

“Must you be so discourteous toward her?” I ask once again not liking his ignorance toward Blaire.

He’s rude.

And he’s not on my good books as of this moment.

I really felt small and low when the man to whom I relied on for most of my emotions, flared out, retaliating me that I shouldn’t be knowing his whereabouts every time.

I never ask for his whereabouts.

But it pains me when I wake up in an unfamiliar bed, in a room I had no recollection of getting in to, the night prior only to find my best friend by me.

Don’t get me mistaken about Blaire’s presence. She is a ray of sunshine for me. She always has been.

But certain times, I don’t know if it’s wrong for me to want him.

Or if it’s only just natural.

“Ariel?” I hear Angelo’s urgent voice that makes me look up at him.

He looks tired. His eyes were red around the corners and it felt like that the man was taking a toll on himself by standing.

“Tea is getting cold.” He says moving around the corner getting into the other side of the bed. “You were lost again.”

“Sorry.” I apologize taking a sip of the warm drink as I feel the bed dip and Angelo stretch out in a laying position.

“Have you opened your presents yet?” He asks.

“Not yet.” I reply finishing the last bit of my tea. “Why do you ask?”

“I was wondering if my mothers remember me or already forgot.”

“You sound envious.” I tease crinkling up my nose even though he can’t see me doing so.

Angelo laughs.

“Are you?” I ask turning to face him as he lays with his hands tucked behind his head.

“What?” He asks raising his head to meet my eyes. “Envious? Of what? Candies?”

I give him a shrug.

He laughs again.

“Come here.” He holds out a hand for me to take.

I go willingly after I place the fine China cup and saucer on the carpeted floor, curling up against his frame.

“I’m really sorry for how I acted, dolcezza mia.”

(My sweet)

“I hope you are.” I reply looking up at him, my hand thrown over his naked abdomen.

“I am.” He says taking my other hand and placing an air light kiss on my knuckle.

“Have you been up all night?” I ask wanting to change the grey topic.

I would rather we pretend those some  minutes didn’t happen.

“Sí.” Angelo replies truthfully. “I was. I was caught up in work.”

“Did you eat?” I ask. “At least.”

He sighs.

It answers my question. So, I shake my head silently admonishing the man.

“Am I allowed to scold and force feed you like you do to me?” I ask, my voice slightly stern.

“Pardonami.” He replies partly amused.

(Sorry)

I wave him off with my hand that he had in his hold.

“How do you like the idea of the four of us dining tonight?” He asks capturing back my hand and placing yet another kiss on my knuckles.

“I do love that you included Blaire as well.” I reply. “I like the idea.”

“Grazie.” He replies. “The only reason I tolerate that nut case is the fact that she can make you laugh.”

“Not that she had something going in with Roman?” I ask, lifting a brow at him.

“I fail to understand how-”

“Don’t be mean!” I slap his chest a little above the playful level.

He chuckles grabbing my freed hand once again.

“I think Roman likes her.” I state

“Roman likes a lot of people.”

“That’s not entirely true.”

“It is.” Angelo replies. “He just doesn’t show it.”

“Maybe he should.” I scowl. “That would make him at least more approachable. And less- scary .”

“He is a position where he has to be but scary.” Angelo replies, his free hand massaging my semi wet scalp.

I hum in response.

“You never said why we are in Florence.” I pipe up.

“I don’t recall you asking.”

“Don’t be a flirt.”

Angelo chuckles yet again. “I thought, well, Roman thought it would be nice if you caught a break while the house repairs.”

I nod.

I, of all people didn’t want to set a foot in Florence. Not in this lifetime.

Florence not only brings me closer to my birthplace but it also brings me closer to people I am not ready to face.

Yet. Or any day as a matter of fact. I would take not this lifetime as well.

Being in Florence. So close to where I grew up, it was- it was a lot to handle. It was awful to go back thinking about what I left.

Who I left.

I feel soft lips pressed against mine. A gentle kiss pulling me out of what ever was going on in my head.

I melt into his mouth, as Angelo so very ardently taking my lips against his, kisses me like I would break if he applied pressure.

I like it.

“You were gone again.” He says pulling away from my mouth, leaving me dazed and heated in the right places.

“Was I?” I ask, clearing my throat. “Were you saying something?”

“No.” He reassures. “I wasn’t saying anything.”

“Maybe you should eat.” I say getting up while adjusting my robe reaching for the hotel phone.

“It is not long before lunch.” Angelo says fishing the phone away from my grip putting the device back to it’s cradle. “I’ll eat lunch.”

I sigh, giving up, before I take back the position I stayed in. Curled up against Angelo. My head against his side, arm over his bare stomach.

“Then what shall we do till lunch?” I ask, looking up at his onyx orbs that stare blankly into the ceiling as if trying to understand the paintings.

“Do you want to go out?” He asks after a while of silence. “Maybe we can dine in a small restaurant. Maybe pizza?”

I shake my head.

“Why not?” He asks, diverting his attention back to me.

“Blaire was excited for this tour.” I say tracing a line on his stomach. “I would feel like a hypocrite when she is giving up so much for me.”

Angelo shakes his head.

“Sometimes Bubbles-” Angelo says. “You need to think about yourself.”

“I do think about myself.” I reply the man. “More than often actually.”

He gives me a mocking nod to which I give him a roll of my eyes.

“Well maybe you could tell your friend-” Angelo offers.

“That she can come along?” I ask excited all of a sudden.

“No.” Angelo replies. “That we are going out.”

“No.” I reply. “Maybe- maybe I’ll take Blaire to trattoria. They serve these really good fiorentinas-”

Lost in the moment of reliving the times in the local diner, I feel Angelo’s devious eyes on me.

“You know an atrocious amount about the fiorentina served at a local spot.” He adds raising an eyebrow when I suddenly stop in mid sentence and stare back at him.

“Oh-” I drop my gaze down to our intertwined hands, feeling a burn erupt from the depth of my stomach.

Angelo doesn’t ask anymore when I fail to answer him about the food and the diner.

I sigh. “I was born in Florence. Raised here as well.”

“I summed as much, tadpole.” Angelo sighs leaning his head back once against the pillow looking up at the ceiling.

“How so?” I ask, frowning.

“Your family residence is in Florence. You father’s office as well.” He answers.

I nod at the obvious answer that he provided. Of course.

Who am I kidding?

“Does it bother you?” He asks.

“What does?”

“Your relationship-” He tests his words. “Your lack of relationship with your parents.”

“No.” I reply. “I have said before that I don’t have any-”

“I understand.” He replies.

I give him a nod, pushing myself against him once again, resting my head on his chest.

“I don’t really like talking about them, Angelo.” I add in a whisper. “It pains me.”

His hand massage my scalp steadily with care and utter gentleness.

“And now it pains me to be here.” I add. “It really does. Being so close to everything that I ran away from.”

“I understand where you are coming from.” He says. “That’s the very reason I am convinced that whatever is happening is happening from here.”

I asses his words for a second.

What does he mean?

“Do you-” I frown. “Do you denote that my parents are behind all this- all that’s going on?”

Angelo stays silent.

However, his silence answers me.

“Why would-”

“At this point I am unable to doubt anything or anybody else, Ariel.” He rasps. “Although, it might sound unreasonable as well as unrealistic-”

“It does sound exactly like that.” I reply. “Why would they try and get me killed? No parent does that, Angelo.”

“I didn’t say that they are the ones who did it.” He clarifies. “I said I couldn’t bring myself to doubt anybody else.”

“You might as well point them out as the guilty ones, Angelo.” I whisper, tears threatening to leave my eyes.

“Sweetheart-”

“No.” I rasp, pushing my body away from him and sitting up abruptly. “No-”

“Ariel.” He calls gently. His voice urgent. “Don’t -”

“My parents maybe a lot of things but wanting to hurt- kill their daughter? That’s unreasonable, Angelo.”

He sighs. “I am not labeling them as killers. I’m just doubting. Who else knows so much about you?”

I shake my head.

“I don’t believe you.” I whisper. “I don’t believe you.”

“Tadpole-” Angelo reaches out for me, sitting up on the bed as I scamper down, my palm placed firmly in my chest.

I feel like the hollow muscle, blood pumping device in my chest is about to explode.

“I’m not asking you to believe me, sweetheart.” He urges, getting down from the bed, closing the distance between us.

I take steps back. Angelo distraught and confused as he steps closer to me until my back hits the wall.

“Please.” I beg, tears falling from my eyes, as I plead to the man in any way he will listen to stop with his outrageous accusations.

It bothers me.

Albeit, I haven’t seen my parents in ages. Yes, I haven’t talked to them.

Whatever reason any one puts up like a flag pole, I refuse to believe-

No, I refuse to even entertain the outrageous idea into my head that my parents are behind these incidents that could have been deadly to any one us.

“Sweetheart.” Angelo gently, pushes the hair away from my face. Tucking the loose strands behind my ear, his palm cradling my cheek as I close my eyes, feeling the tears still fall and land on his skin.

“Ariel.” He whispers once again. Reassurance and urgency evident in his voice as he cups both my cheeks on my palm, lifting my face up.

I shake my head. “You are wrong.”

“I hope I am.” He says. “I hope to God, baby, that I am wrong this time.”

“You are wrong.” I yell pushing against him. “You’re fucking wrong!”

Despite the struggles and pushes against the man’s chest, he wraps his arms around my shoulder, as a sob breaks out of my chest.

“Shh.” He gently rubs my arms as I sniffle into his shirt. “Shh, baby. I’m sorry.”

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” He breaths, his cheek pressed on top of my head.

“A-angelo-” I mumble.

“Sí, dolcezza mia?” He asks, gently squeezing my arms in a soothing gesture.

“My parents aren’t bad people.” I whisper using the back of my hand to wipe my nose.

“They’re just bad parent’s. Not bad people, Angelo. They aren’t killers.”

“Yes, sweetheart.” He sighs. “Forgive me, it wasn’t very wise of me to doubt a father or a mother-”

“Of course.” I reply, pushing myself away from his embrace. “Not very wise indeed. Especially coming from you, who-”

I almost see Angelo bite his tongue, holding back a wince of pain from my words.

I look at him, visibly hurt from my incomplete sentence.

A moment of very uncomfortable thick silence pass between the pair of us.

“I’ll- I need a drink.” Angelo replies, retrieving from whatever trance that held us, breaking our eye contract.

Collecting his shirt from the edge of the bed, I watch the man walk out of the hotel room, shrugging the material on in the process.

I hear the soft thud of the door close as I take steps backward. My back once again meeting the wall behind me, a hand pressed against my forehead as I slide down the wall and on the floor.

And-

And here I thought we were being alright. I think.

It’s one step forward and ten steps backward and everything feels like it’s breaking apart.

Shh, Bubbles. My conscience whispers to me. Shh. We got this. In and out.

Pulling my knees to my chin, I wrap my arms around my bent legs and rest my cheek on my knees.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

“Bubbles?” I hear a surprised yet panicked voice from the doorway.

“What happened?” He asks, her voice slightly off as she rushes toward kneeling before, cupping my face in her hand.

“What did that bastard do?” She asks, eyes soft as she appraises my reaction. “Baby?”

Wrapping my arms around my best friend, I bury my face on the crook of her neck.

“Awe, babe.” Blaire coos, running her hand down my hairs, repeatedly. “Tell me, what’s wrong?” She asks pulling my face away from her.

I shake my head wiping my eyes with the back of my hand.

“Sweetness, it’s okay.” She whispers, caressing my cheek with her knuckles. “It is but okay, love. You are okay.”

“I did it again.” I whisper, clasping both of her hands in mine. “I- I- I did it again, Blaire, I-”

“Shh.” She hushes me, her gentle blue eyes staring into mine. “It’s okay, Bubbles. It’s okay.”

I shake my head.

It’s not .

It’s not okay-

I-

I have never seen regret swirl in his onyx orbs. But- but- then-

There was that, the regret, the uneasiness, the recoiling from me.

As if I had burnt him.

Everything, it was as if- as if a wave of pain washing over his features.

“It’s Devil-o.” Blaire says. “He will come around. He always comes around for you, Bubbles-”

Nodding, I wipe my nose with the back of my hand for the nth time.

“You need retail therapy.” Blaire says soaring up on her feet.

“Yeah? Let’s go buy something and when we get back, Devil-o will come around like nothing ever happened-”

I shake my head, the tears not stopping for the sake of all that is holy.

“No?” She asks frowning.

“No? Okay- okay- you want another tub of ice cream? Let’s get chocolate truffles okay? Those are good.” She adds hurriedly.

“We’ll get cheese pizza for lunch as well. Screw Devil-o. He’s mean.” She adds.

“M-maybe I- I should go check on him.” I say wrapping my arms around myself. “He- he must be feeling low-”

“Bubbles.” Blaire sighs, massaging my shoulder gently.

“Alright.” Blaire mutters after a moment of silence later. “Alright. If that’s what you want.”

I nod looking at the floor, feeling small.

“Let me get you a dress.” Blaire offers moving toward where our bags were kept, still unpacked.

After I’ve washed my face and put on the white sundress Blaire handed me, I journeyed downstairs, alone.

Even though reluctant to let me go on my own, I begged the woman to let me do this on my own.

So she walks me to the staircase, skulking, leaning against the rail as I gave her a wave which she returned halfheartedly.

Asking to one of a staff of the grand hotel, I locate the bar area. It was barely lunch time and minority of people who had finished their early lunch sat around club chairs having their espresso. The half circular bar area was tended by a woman, mixing drinks in a shaker.

Approaching the area, I spot Angelo sitting in one of the corner seats. A string of smoke swirling upwards as I eye him from behind.

Pep-talking to myself, I walk toward the man. Covering our distance, I place a timid hand on his shoulder.

The ashtray before him, showcasing several bits of the cigarette bottom, not very proudly.

“That’s enough.” I whispered, tentatively to the man. “You’ve had more than one drink.”

“Angelo-” I sigh when the man doesn’t respond. “You’ve had more than one drink, let’s go, honey.”

The man sighs taking a long drag of the nicotine.

“I need some time, Ariel.” He whispers. “Just-”

“No.” I whisper. “Come on. I- I don’t- I don’t like this.”

He utters a sound mixed between a scoff and a snort. I ignore it.

I get it.

I get every ounce of it- of me blaming him over and over for the one thing that pushed us away and pulled us back together.

I suppose he feels more hurt by me blaming him than actually regretting what he did.

I don’t want to bring this up again.

Today is a bad day.

A stupid day.

A day I would not like to remember.

“Come on.” I said, plucking the cigarette from his grip, squashing it onto the brass ashtray, waiting for the man to stand up on his feet.

Downing his whiskey shot in one go, Angelo stands tall. My fingers around his upper arm.

“You needn’t support me.” He says, his voice hoarse and stern. Every bit of impassive as it could be. “I’m not drunk.”

“I am not doing this be cause I need to.” I snap back. “I want to, Angelo. There is a difference.”

“Just go back to the room, Bubbles.” He sighs. “Just go back. I’ll- I’ll be with you when I can- when I can look at you, please-”

“No.” I reply. “I’m not going anywhere alone, Angelo.”

I lace my fingers through Angelo’s walking the pair us toward the stair. Blaire wasn’t standing at the top stair anymore.

She must have gone back. I think. Yes.

Entering our suite, Angelo places himself on the edge of the bed while I pick up the cordless phone to dial the restaurant for lunch.

Pizza, he wanted to have.

Placing the order, I put the device back into it’s cradle before moving toward the table, hoping to put the bags away so we can dine but Angelo’s hand around my wrist halts me to my steps.

I could see the corners of his eyes slightly red as he stares up at me, sitting in the edge of the bed, me standing before him.

His hand loosens on my wrist going around my waist as his head drops on my stomach, pulling me closer at the same time.

“Mi dispiace tanto, tesoro.” He whispers.

(I’m so sorry, sweetheart)

November

45

If a glare could make laser holes into a person, I would say Blaire’s glare at Angelo would make circles in his body. Like a bar of cheese.

To say the woman was furious would be putting it mildly.

She was over the water mad when she walked into the dining area, hairs loose, high pencil thin heels clicking against the marble floor as she marched up to the man giving his heard chest a shove.

Well, it’s another thing that Angelo didn’t slightly budge from the force Blaire’s slender figure could muster.

He, however made a sound conveying his annoyance from his suit bunching up slightly.

“What in the hell, Blaire?” Roman had rasped grabbing Blaire bear by the upper arm.

“He’s done it again!” She had yelled, not caring about the audience present in the dinner hall.

“He’s made her cry again, Roman!” She hissed to the man.

“Blaire-” Roman sighed letting her get away from his grip, straightening his suit. “Don’t create a scene.”

“Scene?” Blaire whispered. “Bubbles deserves better, Roman.”

“Heck they don’t deserve each other.” She hissed.

Still teary, swollen and red eyes fixed on the floor, I kept silent, my fingers around Angelo’s forearm, digging to his skin though the material of his suit.

After lunch, I had managed to put Angelo to bed for sometime before breaking into sobs, myself.

As of this moment, the only person I had was Blaire and Angelo. Having them bickering at the tiniest issue is something I didn’t want.

Well and done, both the pair of us, sat on a table for four. Minutes later a well dressed waiter had brought us red wine and a plate of appetisers.

Blaire didn’t talk as much as she does normally as our second course arrived, I was still fighting an inner battle with myself from stopping the tears to surface and paint my cheeks into a transparent painting.

“Are you okay?” Angelo asked moving a strand of unkempt hair behind my eyes.

“Umhmm.” I replied with a nod, a fake smile playing games on my expression.

“You know-” Blaire begun. “You know Angelo, it might the time where you drop this whole caring and sweet game that you’ve been playing with her.”

The whole air of the ambiance shifts.

“Just- just stop it.” She snaps. “It’s for real, bothering me, ’cause one moment you’re caring and the other you are tossing her here and there like she’s garbage- come on man-”

“She deserves way more than your bi-polar bitchiness-”

“Blaire.” I whispered, an evident plea in my voice. “Please-”

“Yes, that’s right.” She slams her fork on the table standing up, positively and utterly enraged. “Go on, take his side why don’t you?”

I looked up at my best friend who just hours ago sat on the floor of my room, hugged me while I cried on her shoulder.

Was this the same woman?

“Take his side, Ariel.” She whispers. “Keep doing it until you’re left abandoned. Again. Because clearly he doesn’t care and you’re just pathetic-”

“Blaire that’s enough.” Roman snapped. “That. Is. Enough.”

I chew my bottom lip, fingers fisted around the silver fork, Angelo fingers intertwined with mine, resting on his thigh.

A silent gesture that it was but alright.

“Screw you, Roman.” She hissed dropping her napkin in the table, turning to leave.

Her heels clatter against the polished marble floor of the hotel restaurant as I feel a number or pair of eyes fixated on our table.

A witness to the scene even unwanted.

“Sorella, I-”

I shake my head at Roman, not letting him finish whatever he wanted to.

“Shh, its fine.” I wave a hand. ’It’s all fine. She’s probably just stressed.“

I can’t stomach a bite after that.

None of us can.

All the heart breaking episodes of my life, I coped up alone.

Solitary confinement to my own little apartment or room seemed like a good enough coping method to me. To a much larger extent the method worked.

Yes. It worked.

As I lay on the canopy bed of the hotel, Angelo’s face pressed to my chest, my hand messaging his scalp, slowly helping him into a deep and much deprived slumber- I feel as if it takes much more time to walk out from the pain when you have people surrounding you.

People who loves and cares.

People who are ready to kill and die for you.

It makes the pain hurt much much more. Even though it’s ought to make it less.

The man beside me stirs making me halt my movements and dart my eyes to his sleeping form from the painted ceiling.

“Hey-” I whispered when two onyx orbs stare back at me, sleep stained.

Confused.

“Hey.” Angelo untangles from his position, concerned and slightly frantic. “Why aren’t you asleep yet? What time is it?”

“Ten past three.” I said looking at the night stand clock.

“Why aren’t you asleep, sweetheart?” He asks for the second time, sitting up, mirroring my half laying position on the bed.

“Are you having troubles?” He asks, palming my cheek. “Hmm? Something the matter?”

“Just can’t sleep.” I whisper, closing my eyes. Savouring his touch on my skin.

It feels good.

“At you sure, that’s all?” He asks  his voice as smooth as the linen on the bed. I nod in answer.

“That’s all.” I admit the lie verbally.

“Is what happened at dinner hurting you?” He added.

“N-no.” I shake my head, opening my eyes, clutching his hand with both of mine. “No, Angelo. Nothing is hurting me-”

“It is hurting you.” He prompts.

“Its not.” I reply. “Believe me, Blaire- she doesn’t mean anything- she’s-”

“Don’t defend her, please.” Angelo persists. But it’s not a gentle tone. “Don’t defend her, Ariel.”

“Angelo-” I sigh. “She doesn’t mean harm or malice. She is just-”

“You are running out of excuse, Baby.” He says. “Tell me how many times has she hurt you verbally and you have covered it up, blamed immaturity?”

I sigh. “Don’t-”

“Bubbles-”

“Angelo please.” I sigh, pulling his hand away from my cheek, placing a kiss on his skin. “Please. Let this go. She doesn’t mean what she said.”

“She doesn’t mean a single word.” I prompt.

Angelo gives out a sound, mixed with annoyance, before pulling me to him.

Sliding on a laying position on the bed, I rest my face on his chest, arm thrown over his waist, legs over his as his fingers massage my scalp, successfully drawing out the sleep that my consciousness had successfully submerged.

“Sweetness-” I heard Angelo’s voice.

It was soothing to my ears, as I felt the sleep slip away from my grip and I opened my eyes.

Morning rays of the sun peaking from the slit of the blinds, filling up the room somewhat, turning the already erotic setting up by a notch.

“Hmm?” I hummed.

“I’m leaving, baby.” Angelo whispers, his voice close to my mouth and soon after those three words, I feel his lips on mine.

“Mmmhmmm.” I respond, turning my body to push myself more closer to him. “Mmm- leaving where?”

“I have some work.” He admits. “It might not take long. I’ll call breakfast.”

“What time is it?” I ask sitting up, pulling the linen to my chest, hiding my robe covered body underneath.

“Eight.” He replies leaning in for another kiss, sucking in my lower lip, before pulling away. “Eat. And if you wish to go somewhere, call me. I’ll arrange a car-”

“Angelo.” I sigh. “I’ve grown up here, I can very much walk by myself, if I want to go somewhere.” I meekly shake my head at the man.

“Still call me.” He urges palming my cheek gently. “Sí? Let me know.”

“And you aren’t walking anywhere, tadpole.” He says sternly. “The driver will drive you. Clear?”

“Sí, signore.” I reply, a playful smile playing on my lips as he gives me one last peck on my mouth before walking out the door.

Sitting on the bed, perched up by a number of pillows behind me, I play with my phone. Scrolling through my abandoned Instagram, watching some makeup and cat video that randomly pops up on the explore page before tossing the device on the bed, interest already lost.

I hate when Blaire doesn’t talk to me me or for some reason acts out, wanting space and requiring isolation.

I hate it.

I don’t have anyone to talk to. Usually its Blaire who I confide into and it’s probably because of me, that she keeps acting out.

I can very really selfish sometime. I think, getting down from the bed eyeing the packages that sit unopened in the sitting area.

Sorting mine and Angelo’s travel bag, I open the bags one by one, separate what has Blaire’s name tag on it.

Divide the bag of suckable given that there were two bags of each candy and put Blaire’s stuff in a separate bigger bag, hoping to give them to her once she comes around and has cooled down.

It often doesn’t take time for her to cool down. She comes around as quick as she steams off.

Shaking my head, I carry my portion of the presents to the bed, sorting out the cute wrapping paper of the ducklings. Donna Coralyn had also wrapped up a box using a bubble printed wrapping paper.

The connection made me giggle as I methodically peeled of the crafty tape revealing a royal blue Mikimoto jewelry box.

It felt for ten long seconds that my eyes would pop out of my sockets as I opened the box, finding a stand of white pearls resting on the satin cushioned box along with two tiny studs.

The necklace felt heavy in my hand. Fingering the white gold clasp, I rested the strand of pearls back on the box as if they will be damaged by my unprotected touch, when I heard the door open from outside.

“Hey?” Blaire poked her head through the slit of the bedroom door making me smile up to her.

“Hey.” I replied, placing the closed box in the pink glitter bag that it came on. “Come on in.”

“You busy?” She asks still poking her head through the somewhat opened door, even though I told her to come in.

“No.” I replied. “Not busy, come on in.”

She does. She was dressed in one of those long T-shirt dress her fret clad in a pair of yellow flip flop.

“Hey.” She mused for the second time taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

“Hey.” I replied pulling my knees up to my chin, wrapping my arms around my bent knees.

“You okay?” She asks.

I nod with a humm. “Are you okay? Did you asleep good?” I ask.

“Yeah-” She sighs.

“What about breakfast, did you have breakfast?” I ask.

“Nah.” She says. “Just woke up.”

“Same.” I replied getting down from the unmade bed. “I sorted our piles though. Here is yours.”

“Did you open yours?” Blaire asks accepting the bag from me.

“Just one.” I reply. “I halved the candies.”

“Thanks babe.” She says taking a peak in. “I didn’t realise they would send me presents as well.”

“You wanna open them?” I ask taking my seat back on the bed.

“Maybe later.” She says putting the bag behind me. “You wanna grab breakfast first.”

I’m not very much hungry. But I go along with her anyway.

“Sure.”

“I’ll call-”

“Angelo already did.” I reply. “They’ll be here soon, I suppose.”

“Well that’s better.” She sighs fidgeting with her finger.

I pretend I don’t see her playing nervously with her fingers while I get down making the bed after folding the wrapping papers and putting them on the bags, fluffing up the pillows, placing them in oder.

“Bubbles-” Blaire sighs. “’Bout last night-”

“It’s fine.” I reply with a shake of my head.

“No, Ariel-” She sighs again. “I’m really really sorry for the stuff I said and- and the name I called you, I-”

“Blaire.” I reply with a sigh coming to sit next to my friend. “You didn’t mean my bad.”

She sighs shaking her head. “It’s not that-”

“Is there something else?” I ask placing a hand on her shoulder. “Anything else?”

“No.” She sighs but I feel that not entirely true.

If she wasn’t comfortable in sharing certain topics, the worst I could do as a friend was to pressurize her to do so.

I wish whatever was bothering her, she would just say and let me help her with it, because clearly it was messing up the woman’s judgement.

“Never mind.” Blaire says, pushing her straight hair back. “Let’s open these packets. I want to see.”

With her enthusiasm, the incident of the past night lay behind us.

Blaire proceeds to pull out wrapped up presents from both Alyssa and Coralyn ending up with enough nice sets of underwears, a pair of pearl earrings, a travel jewellery organiser from Alyssa that looks like a clutch bag, a dress and some this and that.

“That’s a whole bunch.” Blaire mumbles standing up, holding the dress against her shoulder.

“Bit too long?” She asks.

“Perfect actually.” I say. “You’re ought to hold it up a little high.”

“it’s cute.” She says. “I’m gonna wear it.”

I nod in agreement when the door knocks from the other side indicate arrival of breakfast. The lady who kindly brought us our share of morning meal, arranges the newly cleared off sitting area, finishing it off with a mini vase holding a single flower.

“Grazie.” I smiled as she made her way outside after offering me a nod.

“You start.” I tell Blaire. “I have to tell Angelo-”

“Yeah~” Blaire trails off. “About that-”

Retrieving my phone from the nightstand, I take a seat across from Blaire and dial Angelo’s cell.

“Tadpole?” He answers in a steady tone.

“Hey.” I reply. “Breakfast’s here.”

“Eat up.” He orders. “Did you decide if you wanted to go somewhere?”

“Note yet.” I reply feeling Blaire’s eyes intently fixed in me “How long will you be?” I add.

“Until after lunch.” He sighs. “You will have me for dinner-”

“Se fossi io, ti avrei per tre pasti, Capo Bestone.” I whisper into the speaker.

(If it were me, I would have you for three meals, Capo Bestone)

Angelo chuckles on the other end. “I’ll hold you to it, signorina.”

I bite the inside of my cheek shaking my head. “You’re bad. I’ll see you.”

“Sí.” He replies. “Have fun.”

“Mmhmm.” I reply before Angelo ends the call with a chuckle.

I place the device face down on the table picking up a buttered muffin and taking a bite. Blaire stairs at me.

“What?” I ask with a chuckle, dabbing the corner of my mouth with my fingers.

“How does it feel?” She asks pulling her knees up to her chin, resting her cheek on them.

“What do you mean?” I ask with a frown. “It’s getting cold- eat up.”

“How does it feel to be the centre of his world?” She asks in a low voice.

Her tone of inquiry makes me uncomfortable and queasy.

“Eat up.”

“You’re one lucky bitch.” She says with a sigh picking up another muffin. “Getting all your happily ever after and all.”

“What has gotten into you?” I ask mirroring her low voice. “What is wrong, Blaire?”

“Nothing is wrong.” She admits.

I don’t believe her lies.

Rather, I see right through them. She’s unhappy.

She sounds- miserable.

“Tell me what’s wrong?” I ask reaching for her hand. She let’s me hold her.

“Nothing is wrong.” She whispers. “Nothing.”

“I don’t see why you find the need to lie to me, Blaire.” I add. “I’m the last person you should feel the need to feed your bullshit to.”

She chuckles. “I hate myself.”

“And why is that?” I ask. “-why?”

“Don’t you see it or are you really that dense?”

Did she call me stupid?

“Blaire~”

“Forget about it.” She waves me off, placing her barely nibbled muffin back on the plate and picking up a mini chocolate filled croissant and taking a bite.

“I have always hated muffins.” She mumbles.

I nod. “No muffins.”

Picking up my cup of warm milk, I dunk my muffin taking another bite.

“Would you like to go somewhere to clear your mind?” I ask after a moment of silence between the pair of us.

Blaire shrugs.

“There is a local restaurant. We cab grab lunch and then walk around a bit.” I suggest.

“Are you even allowed to go out?” She chuckles.

“Of course.” I reply.

“Wouldn’t Angelo mind?” She asks as if overly cautious. “I-”

“He won’t.” I say patting her hand. “Go get ready. Wear that new dress.”

“Do you suppose I should apologise to him regarding my behavior last night?” She asks. “Roman says I ought to. I-”

Blaire fumbles with the hem of her dress for a couple of minutes, at a loss for whatever she wanted to say or how ever she wanted to act.

“Blaire-” I sigh taking her both hands on mine again. “Go change.”

She does.

Quickly I throw Angelo a text.

Going to get lunch with Blaire <3*

Angelo doesn’t respond back, but then again when does he?

Ignoring his lack of involvement in the texting system, I rummage through my stuff, pulling out a decent floral summer dress with ties on the shoulder as sleeves.

As soon as I pull the fabric over my head, adjusting the thin cotton material, Blaire walks out, her hair loose.

“Pretty.” I comment patting her shoulder. “You need something else from your room?”

“Phone.” She adds. “And shoes.” and hurries over to her abode. I let her.

Blaire and I end up having lunch together where she relishes the taste of fiorentina with a side of grilled vegetable. We add some bread and salad with our single serving of steak for two.

“Fuck, that was some good food.” Blaire says scooping up a spoonful of gelato that I bought her for desert from a street shop.

“Wasn’t it?” I ask. “We should’ve came for dinner. Menu is better than.”

“Yeah~” She hums savouring the sweet cold goodness with the plastic spoon hanging from her mouth. “Its delicious.”

Shaking me head, I walk beside woman, my handbag held by both hands in front of me, hair pulled into a low bun, letting the small white pearl stud make their appearance.

“You in mood for some retail therapy?” Blaire asks licking her empty gelato cup before discarding the container in a bin.

“That store has some pretty damn good hats to go with your 80’s housewife outfit. Just saying-”

But she doesn’t wait for my response before walking rather elegantly to the double glass doors of the shop.

I sigh following Blaire into the store.

On the inside, like any other high end luxury designer store in Florence or Milan, this one was also pristine.

White titled floor and high ceiling with an impressive chandelier hung in the middle. A circular big enough ottoman, complete and adorned with white with golden throw pillows was the floor centre piece for customers to sit and pick out their personalised order.

“Do you hear something?” Blaire nudges my shoulder playfully.

“No.” I reply with a frown eyeing the receptionist at the computer, a number of people scattered around the new summer launch. Gushing over dresses and heels and bags from various high ranked designer.

“Do you?” I ask.

“Yeah.” She says. “It’s my wallet crying.”

I fall into a fit if giggles shaking my head.

“Whatchu wanna buy?” Blaire asks walling toward the C shaped jewelry displayer, eyeing the elegantly set out pendants, bracelets and a bunch of other things.

“I wasn’t the one dragging you here.” I singsong lowly fingering a pale stoned ring, flipping the golden box to check the price tag.

Well-

Placing the thing back on it’s spot I focus in Blaire.

“Jeez- I didn’t know it would be this expensive.” Blaire mutters fingering a pendent set. “Fuck what are these, diamonds?”

“Precisely.” I giggle.

“Fuck.” Blaire cusses again. “Need to rob to buy these, I do-”

“Excuse me, can we help you ma’am-”

I turn at the voice, Blaire mirroring my motion, both of us snapped out of our giggling and funny analytical conversation, only to come face with an older woman. Immaculately dressed in a white blazer and a matching pencil skirt.

But that’s not what drains the color from my cheek or wipes the smile off my face.

I don’t blink while I watch the woman’s facial reaction mirror mine.

A moment of recognition passes between the pair of us, the air inside the showroom thickens, the air conditioning seems just not enough for soothing air to make itself down my windpipe.

“Ariel?” The woman whispers.

I chew on my bottom lip, taking a step back. Desperately praying to God so he makes her forget about the last ten second and gives me ten second to run out of this wretched store.

Or to dig me up a hole so I can jump inside.

Blaire grabs my hand, intertwining both our fingers.

“Ariel?” The woman across from us asks again. Assurance flooding over her features, that are almost identical to mine.

“You’re freaking her out, miss.” Blaire says authoritatively, pulling me back.

“I’d like you step back, please.” Blaire adds.

“Sweetheart?” She whisperers again, a perfect manicured hand reaching for me. Placing it on my cheek, completely ignoring Blaire and her threats.

“Darling-”

“You need to back off, lady.” Blaire rasped, tugging on my arm as I felt the tears leak out of my eyes, blinking them close.

Mother doesn’t step back, neither does she move her soft palm from my cheek.

46

The moment, felt as if stopped by some celestial force. The world it felt, as if it had stopped spinning.

Myself, wished the world to move rather faster instead of halting it’s absolute motion for the time being.

“My baby-” Mother mumbled, as recognition flashed over her features as she cupped both of my cheeks, pulling me in for a hug.

In the embrace of her arms, I stood motionless, the thought of embracing her back playing ping pong in my head.

Her palms left my cheek, moving to my hair, stroking my head, oh so very gently, cooing like I was a small baby lost in a supermarket for a minute.

Except. I was not a child. Not anymore. And I certainly was not lost. I left.

Closing my eyes once again, I thought how it would be a straight lie if I admitted that I didn’t picture this scenario in my head since I left home. A thousand different outcome of my action used to play games in my head jumping from one incident to the other.

But none of the outcome ended with my mother, hugging me.

None of them ended up in the middle of a designer showroom with me clutched tight against her chest, while she stroked my hair.

I felt like a child over again for the second time in the last two minutes.

A little child who has been scolded by her mama and now the mother was apologising silently after finding out how the little kid was mad at her mother.

It’s been a while I have been a child. I think, pulling myself away from my mother’s embrace.

I hoped to find tears in my eyes. The mist clouding my vision, threatening to pour like a monsoon rain. Ready to crumple me up like an old outdated newspaper.

But my eyes were dry when I studied my mother. She was dabbing the corners of her eyes. Her manicured fingers working methodically around her eyes, preventing her make up from messing up.

“I never thought-” She sniffed, a polite smile replaced on her face once again from the raw emotion that had come over her face for some calculated second.

“I never thought, I would see you again.” She whispered, her hand reaching to palm my cheek once  again.

I stand there silent. Motionless. Processing.

Processing.

“Sweetheart~” She mumbles again, her knuckles caressing the apple of my cheek. “Baby, mama missed you so much.”

Oh?

“Where were you?” She asks gently. “Where have you been? Didn’t you miss mama or papa? At all?”

I feel my lip tremble but I hide the agony, the pain- most of all the regret that her words bring to me. It makes my self control wobble.

“I looked for you so much~ I searched so much, baby girl- and yet you didn’t call. Not once-” She bites her lip trying to stop the tremble in her voice.

Her professionalism slipping off with every word coming out of her mouth.

“I missed you so much-” She repeats, her bottom lip between her teeth. “So much, my princess-”

“Oh~” I whisper taking a trembling step backward. Blair’s front meeting my back as she keeps her hold on me.

“Did you?” I ask.

“Darling~”

“Don’t lie to me.” I whisper. “The only thing you can do is not lie to my face, mother.”

“Ariel-” She breathes trying to cover our small distance but I take another step back before she can place her heel clad feet forward.

“How come you missed me if you never wanted me in the first place?” I ask, my voice just a little above whisper. Barely audible.

Shh Ariel. I tell myself. Don’t talk. Don’t talk.

Don’t talk.

Just-

Just breathe.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

“That’s not-” My mama opens her mouth but halts anyway shaking her head. “That’s not what it is.”

“Don’t lie.” I whisper untangling my fingers fr Blaire’s hand. “Don’t lie to me, mama.”

“I’m not lying, darling.” She whispers. “Princess, I’m not lying-”

“I’m not five!” I yell. “I’m not five.” I add, in a low tone, aware that we have the attention of the whole showroom.

“Ariel.” She whispers again. “Please, sweetheart-”

I shake my head. “I need to leave.”

“Ariel-”

“Come on, Blaire.” I grab her hand, my other hand clutching my small bag as I pull Blaire and myself out of the store, aware of my mother’s presence behind us.

“Ariel listen to me.” She pleads as we cross the territory. “You’re leaving again, Ariel!”

“Ariel!” I hear again. This time her voice more louder, more pain stained.

“Maybe we should take a taxi to the hotel.” Blaire suggests after we cross a respectable distance from the store.

I don’t deny the woman as she walks me to the taxi stand nearby giving our address and helping me in.

“Shh.” Blaire coos pulling my face down on her shoulder, her palm flat on my cheek as silent tears make their way down my cheeks.

Pathetic. I cuss myself

Blaire wasn’t wrong last night.

I was just pathetic.

How can I roam around the streets and not expect something like this to happen?

How can I not realise that this was what I was trying to escape?

This city. The people. The connection.

And look what happened.

Before I knew it, I ended up slamming face first into the person who I didn’t want neither wished to face.

At least not in this lifetime.

I feel a sob break out of my chest, as I wrap my arms around Blaire, all those buried feelings I had stored deep inside me locked in a box,  was surfacing slowly yet surely again.

Feelings I didn’t want to surface.

Feelings I wasn’t ready to deal with.

“Hush, babe.” Blaire whispered, her hand on my head massaging my scalp with her nails, while rubbing my arm with the other hand.

“It’s okay, lovel.” Blaire mumbled again. “It’s okay. Don’t cry anymore.”

But no matter what, my tears don’t stop. We drive through the street, watching what could have been a good day to walk around, visit the tourist spots, eating a lamb sandwich from the market vendors.

Instead I go and ruin the day.

Like always.

“Bubbles.” Blaire warns when a fresh bath of tear surface my eyes despite of me trying to hold the pathetic water works inside.

“No more tears, for real, woman.” Blaire admonishes. “I’ll buy you a whole tub of dark chocolate ice cream, yeah? Don’t cry, baby. Don’t cry.”

Blaire asks me if I want ice cream when I stumble inside the bedroom.

I answer her in negative telling that a nap would suffice.

She helps me rid of the cloths and undo my hair before tucking me under the covers and dimming the lights, herself sitting in the edge of the bed, both hand holding my right one.

“You good?” Blaire asks after a trail of silence.

I don’t close my eyes even though I said I would like to get some sleep. I stare at the painted ceiling above me.

“Hmm.” I reply, still making out the outline of the ceiling in dim light, blinds drawn, blocking out the sunlight from bothering my eyes.

“Close your eyes, Bubbles.” She says placing a slender hand on my forehead.

It’s awfully warm. The weather is awfully warm today.

“Hmm.” I reply still unable to close my eyes.

“You want to do something else?” She  asks. “If you can’t sleep that is. Let’s do something else-”

“Just a couple minute, I’ll be fine.” I reply turning in my side, staring at the white linen of the bed spread.

“I’ll be fine. You needn’t worry.” I add.

“Want me to call- Angelo?” She asks reaching up and tucking my hair behind my ear, revealing a side of my face to her.

Shaking my head, I answer my best friend in negative. “No.”

Blaire sighs. “Alright.”

A minute later I feel the bed relax as she gets up.

Lingering around the room for another minute, Blaire leaves, closing the door behind her  leaving me alone to decompose in my pit of self loathing.

It takes effort for me to close my eyes.

Even though I manage do so, I can see the trembling face of Serena LaRusso. A small smile on her lips. How her perfume had smelled when she embraced me against her chest.

Held me for the longest time in my life.

What sort of mother doesn’t hug her daughter for more than a second, through her whole life? I questioned.

Today my mother had hugged me for more than a second. Longer than she had ever shown any emotions toward me.

Today was the first time, I saw my mother cry.

Today was the first time in twenty two years, I heard my mother utter my name with so much gentleness in her tone.

Today was the first time my mother had called me by a little pet name other than my name, all poised and perfectly pronounced.

I was always Ariel. Not sweetheart, not darling, not pumpkin, not honey- just Ariel.

Sniffing, I wiped my nose with the back of my hand, angrily.

No.

She doesn’t get to do that. I thought. A little green emotion taking over myself.

She doesn’t get to do that.

She doesn’t get to tell me how much she missed me and how much she looked for me.

She doesn’t get to hug me or talk to me as if I was her long lost, fragile little daughter.

She doesn’t get to play the role of a perfect mother when she clearly hasn’t been one.

She does not have any right to shove how much she missed me and how selfish I have been in my face!

She doesn’t get to play mommy of the year because she clearly hasn’t been!

I ran away from home. A sixteen year old, helpless, penniless teenager, bouncing from this couch to that for three long years before calling a place my own.

She doesn’t get to say how much she missed me and how much she looked for me.

If- if- they had looked for me, why couldn’t neither of them find me?

It wasn’t as if they couldn’t hire anybody to look for their little rebellious sixteen year old runaway delinquent child.

Moreover, I wasn’t hiding.

I didn’t take up a fake name. Didn’t change my number, didn’t get plastics done on my face so that they wouldn’t recognise me.

If they had looked- they would have surely found me.

Cause I wasn’t hiding in the first place.

Rubbing my fist over my eyes roughly, I prevent myself from sobbing out loud from the rapid hurtful pumps that my heart was taking.

Purposefully hurting me.

It fucking hurts.

Instead, I pull the covers to my chin, biting down on the linen, pushing all the negative energy of my mind into the blanket and close my eyes, feeling my whole body shake from anger, rage and - heart break.

I could tell, that time had passed when I feel something wet touching my forehead.

The notion makes me grunt and open my eyes. My hand instinctively reaching for the wet flannel on my forehead.

“Hey-” Angelo sighs watching me recoils from the wet piece of fabric.

He takes the piece of cloth from my grip, putting it in the porcelain bowl resting on the bedside table.

“Hey.” I mused frowning to see the man sitting beside me, a worried expression shadowed over his handsome features.

“What- what are you doing?” I ask groaning, holding the linen to my chest.

“You have had a mild fever going.” He admits, tending to the piece of flannel and placing it back on my forehead.

I groan yet again, raising my head up from the pillow and placing it on his lap.

“My head feels about to be split into two.” I say, hand creeping up to the front of his trousers, palming him, feeling his flesh under my palm as I smoothly glide over the material of his pants.

“Ariel.” Angelo warns catching my hand before it lands to destination.

I pout. “You don’t-”

“Blaire told me what happened today.” He retorts taking the flannel from my forehead and plopping it in the bowl for the second time.

I sigh.

If it were up to me, I wouldn’t go back to this afternoon after all the diamonds in the world.

“What did she say?” I ask propping my chin up in his thigh.

“You encountered your mama.” Angelo declares. “From what Blaire disclosed, the interaction was- resentful. For you. And her as well.”

“Angelo.” I breathe. “I- I don’t want to talk about my parents.”

“Keeping it bottled inside will only hurt more, sweetheart.” Angelo says his fingernails massaging my scalp.

“However I wouldn’t force you to do so.” He adds. “If you feel the need to tell me something- anything, I have an open ear, for you.” He adds.

I sigh placing my head back on his thigh, feeling the wet flannel on my head once again.

I really do not wish to discuss about my parents right now.

Or at any moment.

“Can you stop with that?” I ask the man, bringing his lips to my mouth, placing a kiss on the inner side of his wrist. “I really detest the wet cloth therapy.”

“Sure.” Angelo replies putting away the wet cloth, beginning to massage my head, gently and methodically with his fingers.

“Angel?” I ask grabbing a hold of his hand yet again and bringing it to my chest.

“Hmm?” He asks as I play with his fingers, lacing mine through them mindlessly and untangling them.

“When can we go back home?” I ask.

“Soon.” Angelo replies. “They started to work on the roof today. It will be good as new soon enough.”

Humming to his answer, I lift my gaze up, to meet his. “Is it going to be any different?” I ask.

“No.” Angelo smiles leaning down to place a kiss on my forehead, between my brows. Closing my eyes, I luxuriate the feeling of his flesh against mine.

No matter how innocent that seems, it melts me.

“It would be just as how you left it, tesoro.” Angelo muses. “Just as how you left it.”

I don’t mind if it’s something new. Or something that wasn’t there before. Something that was totally different than the one they burnt.

Home is wherever Angelo was to me. And right now, Angelo was here, in this hotel room. With me. So I was home.

Home isn’t in Napoli or in Florence. Home isn’t the fancy estate house with high raised pine trees.

Home is right here. With the two of us. And the pups.

“I miss the pups.” I say, pushing my bottom lip out showing the slight desolation and the massive isolation I feel without my doggie kids.

“They are fine.” Angelo insists. “I talked to Alberto. Your pups are fine.”

I hum again knowing that my pups without a doubt was fine being left with Bertie, my attention fixed to his fingers once again as resume my game with them.

“I got an expensive present today.” I disclose to him.

“Did you?” He asks.

“Hmm. Donna Coralyn packed a Mikimoto pearl set for me.” I whispered.

“Did she now?” He asks.

I nod, pushing my hair back revealing the tiny pearl stud adorning my ear.

“See?” I prompt.

“Hmm.” Angelo hums.

“I was worried, I would ruin the ornament.” I whisper. “I could barely touch it-”

Angelo laughs. “Why?”

I shrug. “I was worried I was going to get it dirty or something.”

Angelo chuckles, rubbing the tip of my earlobe where the pearl stud sat proudly. Gleaming.

“It looks good on you.” He complements.

“Blaire said I look like a housewife from the 80’s”

The man laughs yet again.

“You’re making fun of me.” I pout, pinching his thigh making him wince slightly.

“I promise, I am not making fun of you, tadpole.” He chuckles.

“Fine.” I say, rubbing the area where I had just pinched him. “Can I ask something from you?”

“Go ahead, baby.” He said. “You seldom ask for anything.”

I sit up, slightly excited. “It’s more or less like a favour.”

“Go on.” He urges tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “What is it, that you require, mia regina?”

“I would like for you, to tell Roman to take Blaire out for an outing.” I say. Angelo’s hand still clasped in mine.

The man looks taken a back more than slightly from my impromptu request.

“What?” Angelo asks, his brows coming together in a frown.

I stare at him hopefully.

“You would like for me to persuade Roman to take your friend out- like a romantic gateway?”

I nod. “Yes.”

“That’s-” Angelo sighs. “If you wanted diamonds, I wouldn’t think twice.”

I sigh. “But- you are one of the only persons he listens to.”

“Why don’t you tell him?‘’ Angelo asks. “It might draw better results.”

I huff.

It won’t draw any better result.

Just then a woman, immaculately dressed in a hotel hostess outfit walks through the door, announcing the order for soup is here.

“Splendid, soup is here.” Angelo pats my shoulder with his free hand, getting up from beside me and following the lady to the adjacent room of the suite.

A minute later I hear the main door close shut as Angelo brings over a bowl of brothy soup.

It is what a sick person would normally be given after a surgery.

Thin and liquid. The miniscule shreds of chicken float around the bowl like abandoned tadpoles.

A shiver ran down my spine at my own analogy.

“Sip.” Angelo ordered making me groan.

“Come on.” He urges, holding the bowl to my lips so I can take a direct sip. “While it’s still piping hot.”

“It’s for sick people.” I retort.

“Shush.” He admonishes, but keeps firm to his orders.

I sip the soup, like ordered.

It tastes of chicken stock without any flavour added. Definitely no garlic or herbs in there. I think mentally as I am forced to take yet another big long and nice drag from the bowl.

Lord, It tastes like salted hot chicken stock. Which it undoubtedly was.

As if on the scheduled time-

Maybe it had to do something with God that Roman enters the room, crossing the first room entering the bedchamber’s.

“Sorella.” The man greets with a nod circling the bed, coming to a halt at the foot of the bed. “How does your petite self feels?”

I sigh. “I’m not sick.” I manage in between the force feeding sips of the soup.

“But I do feel bothered, because this soup is bad.” I say when Angelo finally  puts the bowl away.

Roman sighs taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “Is that all?”

“Yeah.” I say. “Pretty much. Except I would feel really good if you did me a favour.”

Well, Angelo did tell me to ask him myself. Because apparently to him it would draw better result.

I just hope it draws some result.

Angelo scoffs placing the bowl on the nightstand.

“Favour?” Roman raises an eyebrow.

“Sí.” I reply. “Favour.”

“Alright.” He sighs. “What can do in your favour?”

“Take Blaire out.” I say.

A little silence follows.

“Excuse me?” Roman frowns. “What-”

I sigh.

“I mean, take her out on a gateway. You know? Fancy lunch a stroll, maybe a little visit to a gallery before dinner. Maybe a walk to the market. Buy some this and that. Maybe do a little this and a little that.” I clarify.

“She loves gelato” I add. “It would be a breath of fresh air for her. She might not be doing well mentally. She might be in a place where she isn’t content- and- where is sad, Roman. She might be somewhere where she feels Aline and left out. Just lonely.”

“You want me to take Blaire out on a date?” He asks.

Dense.

“Sí.” I reply. “That is what I meant.”

“Okay.” He replies. “That’s all for the favour you wanted to ask.”

I nod. “Don’t tell her.”

“Alright.” Roman sighs patting my leg in assurance.

I nod, but the silent exchange of words between the brothers doesn’t go unnoticed.

I pretend not to see their soundless conversation.

“Would you be alright on your own for a while?” Angelo asks, pushing my hair back, cupping the back of my head gently, making me loom at him.

“I am going to get a smoke with Roman.”

I nod. “I will be alright.”

“Good girl.” Angelo praises placing a kiss between my brows before leaving with Roman. Letting me be my own audience to my isolation.

I sigh, adjusting the pillow before laying down, eyeing the water bowl and the empty soup bowl on the nightstand.

I can not wait to go back. I think.

I miss the smell of my garden. The fresh ripe peaches. The sweet and sour grapes, the oranges hanging luscious from their branches.

I even miss the detergent stained smell of the laundry room.

I miss the familiarity that place has embedded into me.

That place seems more familiar in a span of months than Florence feels even though I spend almost my whole life here.

Sighing, I close my eyes, trying to picture the house as it was.

Instead, all I can see is the bustling flames. Going up. Up. As if touching the sky. The dark canvas painted in bright red artistry. Ruthless.

The scene makes me shiver as I turn to my side, once again focusing on the linens of the bed.

What wouldn’t I give to cuddle Coco and Poodle right now.

The steady vibration of my phone, indicating I have an incoming call snaps me out of my daze.

Answering the private number, I mumble a hello in greeting.

“Ciao, Principessa.” The voice from other end answered.

It’s a voice I knew too well.

It was a voice that had rarely sung me to sleep.

It was a voice that had rarely read me stories to bed when I was sick and refused to be attended by nannies.

“Papa?” I whisper, sitting up on the bed.

My head that had barely stopped thumping started to spin slightly from the unexpected and unplanned jerk of my body.

“Sí, Principessa.” My father answered.

I hold the line for a while, not knowing I should say or what I shouldn’t say.

Am I ought to say something?

I don’t know.

I haven’t talked to my father in a- in a long time.

“How are you, duckling?” He asked, his voice as if aged by the span of ten seconds.

“I- I am okay.” I reply picking on a thread that peaked out of the blanket.

“How- how are you?” I ask, trying to rid the uncomfortable tension looming over the pair of us, through the phone.

“I am alright.” He replies after a moment of silence on both our parts.

“That’s- that’s good.” I reply.

My father chuckles on the other end.

I can almost see the man shaking his head, sitting in his study, on his chair while he attends this call.

“Come home, princess.” He whispers.

Silence.

“I can’t.”

Silence.

“I haven’t seen you in a while.” He adds. “Your mama says you’ve grown up so remarkable, amore mio.”

(My love)

Silence.

“Come home.”

“Papa- I can’t.”

“Not even for a while to see your poor old papa?” He chuckles.

“Papa-”

“Principessa, papa didn’t know what he did wrong.” He whispers.

“Maybe he has learned. Just for a while, amore mio.” He pleads.

“Just for a while. Come see us. We won’t bother you further, if you do not wish our presence in your life.” He adds.

Silence.

I sigh.

“Ariel?” Papa whispers once again from the other end. “Duckling?”

I close my eyes. For the nth time today tears surface me.

And I hate it.

47

Our naked bodies were pressed together after a not so long night of activities that still send a shiver down to my core.

How a whole night doesn’t feel long enough. I think.

I quivered against Angelo’s hold making his eyes snap back at me from the opened windows.

“Alright?” He asked.

Chewing on my thumb nail, I gave him a nod.

Angelo kept his hold on my shoulders strong, pulling me more closer to his nude skin. My head resting on his chest.

“I will have a car take you to your parents.” The man whispered tucking his free hand under his head, sliding down on the sheets so his head rested on a pillow.

“I’m scared.” I whispered.

“Scared?” He asks leaning down to place a kiss on my forehead, pinching my chin to lift my face up to meet his onyx orbs.

“Why?” Angelo asks once again.

I sigh. “I don’t know.”

Angelo frowns.

“I- I haven’t given a thought about meeting them. I don’t-”

“I am not sure I understand where you are coming from, sweetheart.” Angelo replies.

“Angelo- I didn’t want to meet my parents. I simply don’t want to get sucked in that life. I didn’t- I didn’t have them when I needed them- what’s the point of having them now?”

Angelo nods.

“You understand where I am coming from?” I ask.

“Yes.” He replies. “I understand where you are  coming from. I don’t know what happened with you and your parents, and you won’t share with me, however I do get where you are coming from.”

I nod, placing my cheek on his chest, feeling the coolness of his skin under mine, feeling the relaxed beat of his heart, the sweet sweet smell of his cologne.

“Yet, if you feel uncomfortable, the car will stay as long as you stay. I’ll send in two guards with you. Just in case.”

“I suppose, I won’t need any guards.” I admit.

Angelo hums, the sound vibrates in his chest, traveling all the way down to my shivering, spine.

“Would you come with me?” I ask raising my face to meet his.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He says leaning down placing a small barely there, feather light kiss on my mouth.

“I suppose you will need time to be normal with them before introducing your companion.” He adds.

He isn’t wrong. I think. It’s been close to six years I haven’t met them.

Except yesterday at the showroom.

Taking Angelo for a visit, while myself unaware of what yo expect might bring the worst of the situation.

“I understand.” I reply.

“I assume, it’s time for you to take a short nap.” Angelo sighs, glancing at the bedside clock. Five fifteen.

“I suppose, yes.” I reply, closing my eyes, throwing a leg over Angelo’s waist holding on to him trying to get some much needed sleep.

But no matter what, I can’t bring out an ounce of sleep to my eyes. Angelo keeps his arm around my shoulder, drawing gentle, lazy circles on my skin, trying to soothe me back to a slumber.

My senses stay haywire, over the top alert, trying to gauge out every little thing that could go wrong.

I might walk through those estate gates to find a maid waiting for me instead of my parents. Instead of the pair of them, I might find myself tended by maids from the kitchen, fancy meals, garnished like a five star restaurant.

Sitting on the living room alone. Once again ignored by them even though they were the person bringing me here.

I sigh.

“Angel?” I call.

“Hmm?” He replies.

“Can’t you sleep, either?” I ask.

“No.” He says. “Try closing your eyes, baby.”

“Mm.” I reply bringing his other hand round my waist, playing with his fingers, closing my eyes hoping once again to welcome some sleep.

“Non

ero

io

a

volere

un

bambino in primo

luogo

!“ I heard somewhere buried in my subconscious mind.

(It wasn’t me wanting a child in the first place!)

“ Mi

sento

come

se

i

miei

piedi

fossero

ammanettati

!  Non

ce

la

faccio

più

, Andrea!“

(It feels like my feet are shackled! I can’t do this anymore, Andrea!)

“

Smettila

, Serena. 

Ne

ho

abbastanza

di

te

che

dici

queste

cose

nel

corso

degli

anni .“

(Stop it, Serena. I’ve had enough of you saying these over the years.)

These were the last words I heard between the pair of them before I packed my bags and walked out the back door of the house.

They replay in my head, over and over like a broken record until after the alarm goes off. Repeats again.

Getting up from Angelo’s hold, I reach for his phone and stop the alarm, laying back down, claiming my space.

“Angelo?” I caress his cheeks with my knuckles. “The alarm went off, honey.”

He grunts in response wrapping his arm around me tightly, burring his face on the crook of my neck.

“Angelo.” I whine. “The alarm went off. Do you need to get up?”

“No.” He replies.

“Alright.” I smile absentmindedly, running my hand through his hair, pushing his luscious strands back, leaning down peppering his face with feather light kisses.

“Ariel-” He groans pushing his pelvis us so his erection presses snug against my core. The abrupt action makes me whimper out loud while my body  quivers, deprived of his touch.

Desperately needing some attention.

Finding against him, I release a whimper of need, arms going around his neck bit Angelo’s hands on my waist preventing me to advance further.

“Hmm- as warm as you are, don’t you need to shower and get ready for your date?” Angelo grumbles, his voice sleep stained, deep, raspy.

“I’m not sure I want to attend my date.” I replied pushing his hair back. “I’m really very nervous, Angelo.”

“You needn’t be nervous.” He says opening his tired eyes, palming my cheek. “You needn’t be nervous. They are your parents.”

That’s what I am most nervous about. I think to myself.

If I was meeting someone completely, unknown, I wouldn’t be so anxious of the consequences that came following the situation.

I wouldn’t be at all bothered by it.

But now I am bothered by every little second ticking. Bringing me closer to eight thirty. Bringing me closer to the house that was the centre of my childhood.

I sigh, untangling myself from Angelo’s form. The clock read seven forty. I had roughly thirty minutes to make myself look somewhat presentable. I think looking at my peeling nail paint.

Right.

Not happening .

I wasn’t going to show signore and signorina LaRusso how much they had dominated my thoughts for the passed twelve hours.

I refuse to let them have any upper hand right now.

They lost all the upper hand- hell, they lost every hand in my life the moment I stepped out of the house, only a back pack as my companion, stumbling from this to that.

They lost every single hand, when they failed to locate their sixteen year old, runaway daughter.

After a luxurious shower of scrubbing and shaving, I sat on the vanity unit chair, drying my hair before painting my nails a shade of light pink.

Dabbing a barely there blush of makeup, I dressed myself in the most least worn dress I found in my bag, screw on the diamond studs that matched the ever present ring on my middle finger before pushing my hair back with a barrette holding it out of my face.

When I admire my getup in the circular mirror of the bathroom vanity,

I hear Angelo clear his throat. Muscular form leaning against the doorway, bellow the hips covered by a pair of silk pajama bottoms.

“Buongiorno.” I wish, flashing him a nervous smile.

“Buongiorno.” He replies, a smirk lingering on his mouth. “You look edible.”

“Do I?” I reply, a nervous look passing over my features as I lean in to put a light coat of blush pink lipstick across my face.

“Don’t you think, it’s a bit too much?” I ask.

“Bit too much?” The man tests the words.

“No I do not think so.” He replies.

I nod.

“Your hand is shaking.” He point out.

I place the tube of lipstick on the marble countertop, heaving a sigh of agony.

“I can’t help it.” I reply.

“Maybe you should have slept for a while, after all.” He reasons.

“I couldn’t.” I reply. “Every time I closed my eyes- every time I tried to welcome some precious sleep, all I could hear was their voice.”

“All, I could hear was them arguing about how my mother didn’t want a child to shackle her feet in the first place.” I add. “About how her and my father had gone through this for years-”

A silence follows between the pair of us while take two deep breaths, dabbing on the lipstick with my fingers.

“My father- Aron Richardson, abandoned mama and I, before I was born.” Angelo volunteers. “And now he has shown up into my life out of the blue, looking for a reason to wedge me into his will because his business in Europe is falling.”

His brusque divulgence makes me look at him.

I cannot picture him as someone with the surname of Richardson.

Angelo Richardson?

No, I don’t think so.

“I haven’t seen a more selfish man than signore Richardson in my life, Ariel.” He admits.

“I would go far go and tell that I despise the man. But I can’t change the fact that his blood runs through my veins. No matter how many proofs I hid, that proof will always burn the brightest.”

“However that’s the only proof I would rather hide.” He says with a sigh.

“Angel-”

“No matter what, you can’t change the fact that their blood runs though your veins, tadpole.” He continues. “They will always and forever be the people who made you, so whatever it is, keep it aside, and go meet them, if that’s the last thing they want from you.”

I’m not sure what is it that they want from me.

I am not sure if they want anything from me.

So why is all the agony?

I am worried that the feeling of being abandoned will wash over me the second I cross the threshold of that place.

The feeling of rejection will renew it’s course inside me the minute I take two steps in.

The words of emotionless dinners will echo through my ears once again.

The cheers of Christmas parties will drum in my ears anew and I will find myself in my bedroom, all pink and white, dressed in my finest outfit, eating dinner on my bed alone while a maid stood in respectable distance watching me, because there was guest downstairs.

And my mother wanted the house pristine.  With no hassle.

I felt as if the minute I steeped though those doors I would find a younger version of my sitting in the middle of the living room on a Saturday hoping to catch a glimpse of either of my parents.

Sighing, I kissed Angelo waving a good bye to him after we walked down before slipping into the car.

“Resta con la signorina Ariel finché non è pronta a partire.” He says to the driver before closing the door of the car.

(Stay with miss Ariel until she is ready to leave.)

“Be safe.” He warns placing a last kiss between my brows.

The car pulls away from the hotel compound leaving me anxious of whatever I had written out by God for today. It’s a small drive to my father’s property from the hotel. A maximum of seven minute by the car.

Maybe ten-fifteen by foot.

Right now, as I sit inside the car, tinted windows hiding me from the outside world, and think how I would prefer the the route by foot.

At least, I would have enough time to turn around and leave.

Putting on some bravery, that was nothing but pretence, I step out of the car. My heels meeting the  gravelled driveway where the car had been halted by the butler in charge.

“Principessa.” The man held out a hand for me. “How very nice of you to join us home, again.”

I want to go back.

“Grazie.” I replied offering the middle aged man a polite smile getting out of the car completely.

“Would you like me to walk to the house?” The man asked.

“Starò bene, signore.” I replied taking my hand away from his grip as quickly as I was out of the vehicle.

(I’ll be fine, sir.)

“Ah, sí.” He chuckled shutting the car door behind us. “Of course. The ever polite, miss Ariel.”

With one last smile to him, I walked straight through the path that lead inside to the white mansion. The man behind me at a distance.

Even inside the car, as I sat debating if I should leave or get out and meet my parents and be done with, I was certain that I would meet a set of maids at the front door. Waiting.

Instead, finely dressed in an Brioni suit, charcoal grey in color, my father stood. Hands clasped behind his back. Waiting.

“B- Buongiorno.” I greet standing in front of the man that was my father.

Undoubtedly his strong figure was now slightly less stronger. His sharp features were slightly less sharp as I took his appearance.

As if he was aged.

As if he had aged more than he should since the last time I saw him.

“Buongiorno, princess.” The man replied a warm smile on his lips.

“Shall we?” He asks gesturing toward the entrance of the house.

I offer him a curt nod following him inside.

Like I had imagined this house to be cold and pristine, void of any proof of a living being staying here.

There were pictures on the wall.

My eyes almost at an instant fixated on the gold framed pictures adorning the foyer wall above the entrance cabinet.

Photos of me. Whatever of the photos I had. One of them during my birth with my name, date and time. Beside that there was another picture. A lot recent taken.

A name, date and time.

“Come.” Papa offered placing a hand on my back leading me to the sitting room.

It wasn’t at all like how I remembered it. The elegant whites were replaced with warm neutral colors, the sitting arrangement were changed so it had more space in the middle for a table. On one corner stood a jute basket, stuffed to the rim with toys.

“Sit, sweetheart.” Papa urged. “Would you like something? Coffee? Juice?”

“Its okay.” I replied with a smile. “It’s fine.”

My dad took the seat across from me, hiding the view of the toy basket from my vision as he poured me a glass of water.

I took a small sip for the sake of courtesy.

My father shakes his head, his gaze fixed on me as I keep my head lowered, watching the cream and brown carpet under my heels.

“Would you like to walk around while breakfast is being prepared?” He asks.

“This is fine.” I reply not wanting to go back any more than I already had.

Not wanting to make this meeting more uncomfortable than it already was.

“Your mother has been in the kitchen for a while now.” He chuckles. “Perhaps, you would like to wish her a good morning?”

I frown, still looking at the ground.

My mother. In the kitchen?

I wonder if these people has kidnapped my parents and replaced them with a master copy version or not?

“Come, I’ll lead you-”

“I know the way.” I reply, a little quick than I meant to be.

“Sure, sweetheart.” Andrea LaRusso stands up followed by me as I place my mini bag on the coffee table walking out of the room, my father behind me.

I find my way to the kitchen, because I ought to wish my mother a good morning.

It wasn’t a good morning for me.

It was third most anxious and agonising morning in my life.

First one was when I woke up at my friend’s house having run away from home not having a clue of what I shall do and what I shall not.

The second was when I woke up in the hospital bed, alone, cold with a expected but never accepted news that my baby had left me.

And the third was today when I woke up not knowing if I should be brave or just a bitch.

“Buongiorno.” I wished standing on the kitchen doorway my hand clasped in front of me.

My mother was methodically working in whatever was on the stove. Her dark hair knotted at the base of her neck, a blue apron protecting her outfit.

“Buongiorno.” She turned, a smile breaking out on her face. “How- how are you, amore mio?”

“I’m well, thank you.” I reply. “How are you?”

“Good.” She replied, awarding me with yet another smile, before remembering something and moving toward the other counter, grabbing a plate and placing it on the table.

“I brought strawberries.” She beamed as if she had no idea how to act.

Like me, she has no idea what to do.

“You love them don’t you?” She asked. “I have made your favourite too, for lunch as well, potato gnocchi? You still love that-”

“You needn’t have done so much.” I reply.

The nervousness and the excitement, both drops from her features as she turns and places a plate of sliced peach and grapes on the table before grabbing the bar of a chair, breathing laboured.

“I- I have no idea what to do.” She whisperers, I see crystal tears leaking her eyes.

“I don’t know what to do- I don’t want you to feel left out again  and I thought-”

“I have no idea what to do either.” I reply.

The older woman’s shoulder shakes as she chews in her lip to keep the sobs holding in.

“I’m sorry.” She replies. “I wish I was better.”

I wish you were better too.

But don’t mouth it. The thought ping longs in my head as I step into the kitchen, my kitten pumps clicking against the floor.

“I love them still.” I reply picking up a large strawberry. “Grazie for remembering.”

My mother nods, lifting her head up, wiping her tears, a smile on her face.

Unlike the day before she wasn’t wearing make up. Or like always she wasn’t in her work cloths instead just a dress that had probably been worn once before. Her feet was clad in her designer slippers as she moved around the kitchen.

Just as I pull a chair back, ready to take a seat, a fiery creature runs past me smashing face first into my mothers calf making her wince.

“Mama.” The bed headed little thing squeaks pulling on her dress. “Up. Up.”

Forced to drop whatever she was doing, mother picks up the little human up on her arms, her free hand moving her dark curls identical to mine away from her face talking in whispers before, mother points to me setting the small girl down.

“Go, say hello.” She gives the small girl a nudge on the back, urging the little human to take some steps toward me, for a possible greeting.

Tentatively, the girl with dark eyes and equally dark hair, still dressed in her night gown, a chonky teddy bear under her arm, makes her way to me.

I twist in my chair to face the three feet creature with curiosity.

“Buongiorno.” She mumbled hiding her chonky toy behind her, shuffling her feet, doe eyes staring back up at me.

“Buongiorno.” I reply, a small smile playing on my face.

“I’m Belle.” She mumbles.

“I’m Ariel.” I reply. “I like your doll.”

“Can I have a berry?” She asks ignoring my compliment given that she already his her bear behind her.

“Sure.” I reply reaching for one of the big strawberries handing her one. With her right hand she accepts the berry taking a bite and sucking excess juice.

“Tastes good?” I ask.

“Sour.” She replies shaking her head before running off.

I stare at the empty space the little human occupied for a second before sitting up straight on the chair.

“We have a lot to tell you.” My mother shrugs apologetically.

You bet.

“Maybe- maybe you’d like to play with Belle? She might be in the sitting room?”

I stare at the dumbfound.

“We should have breakfast first.” She sighs trying to wash away the uncomfortable silence between the pair of us.

48

Three

things:

1.  I’m not making Blaire the bad guy. Though it might seem so. But I am not.

Please do not ask me about Blaire’s book. I’ve said this time and time again that right now I am working on this book. I don’t know when I’ll he able to focus on that.

I don’t have any five year old friend, so if Belle’s behavior seem like a bit too not like a five year old, I’m sorry.

“Your disappearance- it- it affected your mama and I in an unexpected way.” Papa says sipping his espresso sitting on the club chair in his office.

“Princess, the situation pushed us away and brought us closer at the same time.” He sighs. “A year after you left, mama and I welcomed Belle. I thought it would heal us. It would heal your mama from the loss she felt way too much.”

I look at the flower arrangement placed on the coffee table.

Unlike the glass jars I had at home this wasn’t clear. Made of fine China, it blended with the old theme of the library like room.

“Belle made us feel your absence more than she made her presence known. Mama and I, we were left out from your childhood, you teen age, not paying attention to what you were going through and what passed through you as a result, amore mio.” He added. “Mama and I separated shortly after Belle’s birth.”

I look at him, for the first time in thirty minutes since we started talking.

Since he started talking, rather.

“It was too much for her and I to cope with the loss of you and beginning of Belle.” He apologetically says.

“Mama quit her designing things and focused on Belle after the divorce. I rarely see the pair of them.”

“Yesterday at the showroom when you saw mama, it was her first collection launch after almost six years.” Papa replied. “To say she blamed herself for your disappearance would be putting it lightly, she fell into a pit of darkness after, duckling.”

“I wasn’t hiding.” I reply to his explanation.

My father looks up at me.

“I- I really wasn’t hiding.” I repeat. “For a year after leaving, I was in Florence. Then to Rome. Then to Venice and finally Naples- I wasn’t hiding.”

My father sighs.

“Papa- papa, if you really tried and if it hurt you that much- why didn’t you look?” I ask. “Why didn’t you look for me? Why didn’t you ever tried to contact me?”

“I was angry at you, princess.” He replies.

I scoff.

“I was angry, that you felt the need to leave your home. I felt beyond raged when I found out that my daughter- my little girl had left, throwing a handful of dirt in my eyes.” He says.

“You weren’t close with your mama, but you could’ve told me. You could’ve come to me for whatever was bothering you.” He adds.

“You- you were angry?” I ask. “That was your reason, papa?”

“And then I felt guilty.” He continues. “I felt guilty, I felt the anger toward myself that whatever it was, it was my fault that you couldn’t come to me or talk to me. I felt ashamed of myself as a father.”

“That’s why you never called?” I ask, my voice small.

“Princess-”

“I, at least expected you would call.” I add, chewing my lip. “I at least deserved a call, papa.”

“I know princess.”

“I hate you.” I sniff. “I hate you.”

My father discards the chair he was sitting on coming to sit beside me.

Close to tears, my papa pulls me close to him, resting my head on his shoulder as I feel a sense of comfort and protection wash over me.

“I know, mama.” He sighs placing a kiss on the top of my head. “I know-”

I sniff.

“And if it were upto me, I would have never let you leave my straight.” He sighs. “Not for a second.”

It breaks me.

“But now you a big girl having a big girl’s life, sí?” He asks.

I nod.

“Does he treat you right?”

I nod. “He does.”

Fat, ugly drops of tears escape my eyes as I find my unable to stop them.

“Shh.” Papa coos. The hand that was hugging me by the shoulder now patting my head, as I was small again. “Shh, duckling.”

The door to the office room opens revealing mama and little Belle on her heels. A small bowl in her hand.

I wipe away my tears, sitting up straight as the woman and the small girl walks in.

Belle climbs up to the sofa beside me, placing the bowl of her chocolate munchies first and then placing them on her outstretched legs, loosing her small self into the chocky world.

“You want?” She asks holding out a log shaped chocolate cracker for me. “Its for the berry you shared.”

“Grazie.” I thank my little sister accepting the chocolate log cracker from her.

“But you only get one.” She says. “Maybe two. I took one of yous toy.”

I take the second chocolate log cracker that she offers me in exchange of whatever toy she took.

“Grazie.” I thank.

“You are welcome.” She nods absentmindedly, picking on her munchies, moving them around with her tiny little pointer finger.

“How old are you, Belle?” I ask pushing the dark curls escaping from behind her ears.

“I be five in three days.” She replies. “Right, mama?” She asks.

My mother gives her an encouraging nod.

“How old is you?” She asks looking up at me.

I can’t bring myself to fathom the similarities between the pair of us. Our hair, the eyes, her a shade darker, her nose-

“I’m twenty two.” I reply.

She hums nodding. “This much?” She asks holding up two fingers on each hand.

“This much.” I reply, patting her head.

“That’s big.” She replies. “Do you have toys?”

I shake my head. “I have two doggies at home.”

“Two?” She asks as if surprised.

I nod.

“Really?” She jumps excitedly.

“Two doggies? I really want a bunny but I’m not allowed because I’m still small.” She shrugs. “Mama says, I’m too small to take care of a bunny.”

I smile. “Well, mama is right. You are really small to take care of a bunny.”

“You’re no fun, too.” She replies. “Can I see your doggies in your phone?”

“Sure.” I say, pulling out the phone from my bag, scrolling through the gallery, videos of the pups showing Belle the filmstrip of the videos.

“Cute.” She mumbles popping another bite of the crackers into her mouth. “What’s their name?”

“His name is Poodle.” I point to the one year old Shepherd chewing on a little bee toy. “His name is Coco.” I point to the Welsh corgi while he basks in the sun at our backyard.

“Nooo.” Belle whines. “Both are boys, why no girls? Boys no fun!”

I giggle. “They’re really fun.”

“I wanna see!” She pipes up. “Can we go to your house? I wanna pet them.”

“I live really far away, bun.” I say patting her head.

“No worries.” She says. “We take a car and we drive to your house, no papa?” She asks. “It will but take ten minutes!”

Papa laughs at Belle’s assumption. “Sure, amore mio.”

“See, we can go see your doggies.”

I giggle placing a kiss on her head. “Soon.”

“Okay.” She says popping her attention back to the phone, swiping hurriedly finishing another video clip of the pups. “Cute.”

“I’ll let you girls chat.” My father says followed by a sigh getting up. “I’ll be in the garden, if anyone needs me.”

After papa leaves closing the door behind him, mama asks of I would like another cup of tea.

Shaking my head, I place the cup and saucer I was holding on the coffee table beside papa’s abandoned espresso cup.

“Needn’t you be at the showroom for your launch?” I asked sitting back on the sofa, straight. Poised.

“I decided it would be better for today to be a holiday.” She replies back.

With a polite smile I offer her a curt nod focussing on Belle swiping on my screen enthusiastically pushing one video after another.

“It’s gorgeous how she almost looks like you did at that age.” Mama replies drawing her attention back to me.

I smile.

“I can not justify myself enough, Ariel.” She sighs. “I wish I could.”

“I wish you could too.” I reply. “I wish you could justify too when having me felt like shackles to you.”

She sighs.

“How did I become your cuff, when you didn’t even give me an ounce of your time?” I ask. “Funny how you feel the need to justify now.”

“Sometimes you don’t realise your treasure until you loose your treasure.” She replies. “Loosing you was a wake up call for me, darling.”

I shake my head.

“You say that.” I add.

“How are you?” She asks, her eyes pleading for me to tell her what I really want to.

Well, I really want to tell her a lot of things.

I want to tell her, that I don’t want to be here.

I want to tell her that, Belle does in fact look like me.

I want to tell her that she has been a horrible mother to me.

I want to tell her that I can’t do this act any more, that I am breaking and I so close to flood myself with tears again.

I want to tell her that running away from home wasn’t all fairytale and freedom like I imagined it would be.

I want to tell her that I hate her for being such a bad mother to me.

“I told you I was fine.” I reply.

She smiles, nodding.

“Your papa said you would leave after lunch.” She prompts.

I nod.

She probably wants me to leave right now.

“Won’t it be possible for you to stay the night?” She asks.

Oh .

“Not really.” I reply. “No.”

I don’t want to stay the night.

“I suppose, I wanted to see you for a while longer.” Her lip trembles bit she manages herself. “I can’t look at you enough, baby girl. You’ve grown into such a remarkable young lady-”

“Mother, please.” I replied.

“Of course.” She whispers. “I suppose- I suppose I’ll get lunch started while you bond with your sister.”

“So am I just ought to sit here like a porcelain doll  while both of you get engorged in your own work?” I ask. “What’s the point then?”

My mother stares at me dumbfound.

“What’s the point of me being here if you are going treat me like a guest?” I ask.

She smiles. “I can’t look at you without crying, Ariel.”

I bite my lip, stopping myself from busting out into tears again.

Hell, I can’t even-

“I can’t look at you without going back and think what a horrible mom I’ve been to you, my love.” She whispers. “It hurts me so damn much when I look at you and yet I can’t stop looking at because I haven’t seen you in so long-”

“Mummy.” I whimper, chewing on my flesh, trying to stop myself from rushing to her and hugging her and crying while resting my head on her lap.

So I do.

Getting up from the seat I was occupying, I stumble toward my mama, kneeling on the carpeted floor, placing my head on her lap.

“Baby.” She sniffs running a hand through my hair. “I am so so sorry, I have been such a horrible mother to you. I am so so sorry that I missed out on your life only for my selfish need, mama.”

I sniff, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. But I don’t tell her its okay.

I don’t tell her that I am sorry too that I have been such a horrible daughter to them.

I don’t tell her, I accept her apology because no matter what, one visit and one crying session was not something worth of forgiving some one who had always been the absent character of your story.

Instead, my eyes find Belle, still sitting on her seat.

But she was not looking at the phone anymore or picking through her snacks anymore.

She sat there, with tears swirling in her large eyes. Rosebud mouth quivering.

“Come here, you.” I snuffle, holding out a hand for her to take.

The little human scampers down, pushing herself on my lap, arms around my neck, small face pressed on to me.

“I’m sorry too, bun.” She weeps. “I’m so sorry too!”

“Shh.” I whimper, rubbing her back. “Shh. It’s okay, Belle.”

She cries some more.

I however, have no idea why does she feel the need to apologise.

But kids work in an unusual mostly surprising way. And Belle embracing me, softens me by a far margin today.

“I won’t take any more of yous toys, I pwomise.” She cries on to my neck. “Please don’t leave us, bun.”

Shushing her, I rub her back, rocking the little girl back and forth, while my mama, runs her hand through my hair, herself unable to stop the tears falling from her eyes.

I don’t delay my departure after lunch.

Saying goodbye to Belle seems like the hardest thing there is, because she looks like close to tears, hugging papa by his calf.

Uncountable times, the small human has begged for me to stay and that she will return all the toys she took and she wouldn’t ever touch them and wept, wept some more for me not to leave.

“I’ll be back for your birthday.” I said kneeling down to be levelled with her red face. “It’s just three days.”

Belle shakes her head, hiding her face behind our father, as if expressing her displeasure toward my departure.

I place a kiss on her head telling she can keep whatever toys she took before standing up. She still refuses to look at me.

“I’ll be going.” I say to the pair of my parents, taking a step down.

“Be safe, princess.” Papa says offering me a smile, patting my cheek before giving my shoulder a squeeze.

“Thank you for having me.” I replied with a smile waving the three of them a goodbye as I slipped into the car.

The driver closing the door after me.

Walking into the suite, I take off my shoes, placing the bag on the centre table, walking inside, the soles of my feet hurting.

“Angelo?” I call out entering the room but halt when I see his form splayed out on the bed.

Still clad in the pajamas he was wearing early this morning, asleep on his back.

It takes me fifteen minutes before I can join Angelo on the bed, dressed in one of his T-shirt.

As if awake, the man throws his arm around my stomach shuffling closer to me, his head dropping on the apace between my breasts.

I giggle when he nuzzles me, prickly stubble poking through the material of his soft worn out shirt.

“You napping, for a change.” I whispered pushing his hair back to reveal his handsome face.

“A nap was long overdue, tadpole.” He grumbles in his sleep.

“You are right.” I reply, playing with the smaller hair at the nape of his neck, curling those silky strands between my pointer finger.

“Go back to sleep.”

He hums in response before lifting his face up, looking at me with sleep stained eyes.

“You aren’t crying.” He points out making me shake my head.

“I’m not crying.” I reassured.

“So, I suppose all went well with your parents?”

I give him a nod. “Somewhat, yeah.”

“Is that good?” He asks.

I nod. “That’s good.”

“Did you talk?”

“I did.” I chew on my lower lip. “We cried and we talked and we hugged.”

Angelo smiles lazily dropping his head back on the valley between my breasts. “That’s rather charming.”

I nod. “I have a little sister.”

Angelo chuckles.

“She’ll be five in three days.” I add. “Angelo, she’s the prettiest thing ever.”

“Like you?” He asks.

I laugh. “Much much more than me.”

“What’s her name?” He asks, his hand creeping to the hem of the shirt, slowly pushing it up as he glides over my skin, leaving me bare.

I don’t complain.

“Belle.” I reply.

He laughs.

I giggle.

“On the contrary.” Angelo says. “I’ll be taking you to dinner tonight.”

“Oh?” I grin. “How romantic, Capo Bestone.”

“How romantic, indeed.” He sighs. “I booked us a table at LA Giostra. By seven sí?”

I pull my face back, looking down at him.

“Fancy.” I reply, a small smirk playing at the edge of my mouth. “Shall I dress fancy too?”

“Wear red.” He urges, his hand now completely has disappeared under the material of the shirt, feeling the coolness of my skin just out of the shower.

I haven’t worn red in a while.

“And?” I ask. “Any other speculations that you’d like me to follow, mio re?”

“No.”

“No?” I reply with a laugh. “Go back to sleep, then.”

“Angel?” I ask when he drops his head on my chest.

“Hmm?”

“What about Roman and Blaire?” I ask. “Did he-”

“Roman and your friend went back already.” He says with a grunt.

Pushing the man off my embrace, I frown at him. “What do you mean, went back already?”

“They went back to Napoli-” Angelo frowns. “I thought Blaire told you.”

“She- she didn’t.” I whisper. “She didn’t tell me.”

“Well I suppose.” Angelo frowns as well. “Are you both alright?”

I give him a nod.

Of course we are alright.

However I haven’t seen the woman or heard from her after she helped me into this room and left.

Being caught up so much, I didn’t really pay attention to the fact that she wasn’t here the night prior.

And I was- well, since breakfast I was at the mansion, which-

I sigh, placing a palm in my forehead.

“Is- is everything between her and Roman okay?” I ask tentatively. “Did anything happen?”

“Not that I know of.” Angelo replies.

“Maybe she didn’t get the chance to call me.” I say with a smile.

“Possibly.” Angelo reassures. “Now close your eyes, baby.”

I do.

My sleep doesn’t last long.

Abruptly I find myself starring at the ceiling, Angelo’s head still resting on my chest, his hand under my shirt pressed flat against my stomach.

Absentmindedly, I reach for my phone. Two missed call on my notification box, thinking it was a call from Blaire I quickly open my logs but it’s my dad.

Dialing Blaire’s cell, I wait for the device to be picked up.

“Hey.” Blaire breathless picks it up on the last ring.

“Hi.” I reply. “Heard you went back.”

“Yeah.” She chuckles nervously. “Went back.”

“Is something the matter?” I ask.

“No.” She says quickly. “Nothing the matter. Just wasn’t feeling good here.”

“I thought you were excited for the visit-”

“You’re dense as fuck to think that we were there for a visit.” She laughs sarcastically. “And that too for me, Ariel.”

I frown at her reply.

“Anyways, how was your visit with your parents?” She asks.

“I-it was good.” I reply. “I have a little sister.”

Blaire stays silent over the other end.

“A little sister you never knew you had?” She scoffs.

“No.” I smile at the little memory that Belle occupies in my head. “She’s almost five.”

“What a slap.” She chuckles.

I frown.

“Shit.” She grunts. “Sorry bubbles, didn’t mean to say-”

“Did I do something?” I whisper to her. “Are you- are you upset- with me?”

She snorts on the other end.

“Don’t pretend, Bubbles.” She replies. “Don’t pretend.”

“What-”

“Oh you know exactly what I mean, Ariel LaRusso.” She snaps. “Do you reckon I am pathetic?”

“Blaire-”

“No.” She yells. “Do you think I am desperate? Like do you think I am that much of a needy person?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, right.” She sighs. “Always the oblivious. Why’d you ask Roman to take me out, huh?”

“I-”

Oh ?

“No. Don’t stutter you bitch.” She cusses. “Don’t you fucking dare to pull that innocent card on me! I didn’t ask for your fucking help!”

“I’m sorry-” I whisper, tears leaking out of my eyes.

I- I never thought of a consequence such as this one.

And Roman was never supposed to tell.

“Don’t call me Ariel.” She sighed. “Just- just don’t call me. I can’t stand you and all that you are.”

“Okay.” I reply.

“I’m sorry for whatever I did known and unknown to you.” I add with a shaky breath. “And- I’m sorry you feel that way.”

Blaire ends the call from the other end. I stare at the ceiling, silent tears streaming down my face.

My phone vibrates on my hand yet again.

Papa.

“Hello.” I answer the call.

“I miss you.” Belle mumbles from the other end.

“I miss you.” I say with a sigh.

“Hmm.” She hums. “You be back for my birthday?”

“Hmm.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t cry.”

“I won’t.”

49

I ended up drying my eyes before Angelo woke up, a little before dinner. Still laying on safe heaven of his arms, I pondered if going to this dinner was a good idea.

A table at the la Giostra was a hassle. I haven’t been to the restaurant before given that the place was booked for romantic candlelight dinner almost every night.

Angelo’s phone rang abruptly, waking him up and groan reaching for his phone.

I sat up followed by him, pulling my loose hair up in a knot as he answers the device.

“Boss?” He asks pulling the covers off him and making a motion to stand up from the bed when he halts in mid action.

A frown taking over his handsome features as he glances toward me.

“Sí, why?” He asks. “No. No.”

I don’t hear the rest of their one sided conversation as he disappears into the en suite bathroom, closing the door behind him gently.

Glancing at the bedside table clock, I get down from the bed, taking a deep breath.

If I declined Angelo’s offer just because Blaire had yelled at me making me feel like a child and the abrupt villain of her story, it would be dampening his mood.

I wouldn’t want that even though I have no doubts that he would understand if I told him.

It was ten minuts after six which meant, if I didn’t start getting ready by the next five minutes, we were going to be late.

After making the bed and fixing the sheets, I rummage through the clothing choice of my duffel bag.

Wear red. He had said.

Finding a red slip dress with thin straps for sleeves, I paired them with my new received pair of black lace.

The idea of Coralyn and Alyssa buying kinky little under ware to hand them over as gifts to me and Blaire was hilarious and equally weird.

Not dwelling on the thought, I made my way to the bathroom with my garments to find Angelo standing before the sink pushing a wet hand through his hair keeping them in place.

Yes, canceling the dinner would be a total ambience killer.

“Somebody is excited.” I muttered walking past him to get dressed.

Angelo smirked, shaking his head.

I take a second to quickly pull on my panties and slip on the silk dress over my head adjusting the material around my hips.

I had bought five silk slip dresses from a value saver pack when u was working at Minx.

Guess paying their price, they are.

I put on a light blush of makeup, dab some power on my cheeks, doing little foxy eyeliner before adding a thick coat of mascara, making those lashes look long and full.

I put on the pearl strand around my neck screwing the matching studs on my ear, leaving my hair fall across my shoulder in natural full waves.

Slipping my feet into my only pair of black red bottoms, I walk out of the bathroom, feeling ready, confident. Sexy .

Angelo stands before the small dressing area of the room, fixing the collar of his black button down that he paired with matching covered slacks and a suit jacket.

“You dressed to break hearts, Capo Bestone.” I mumble leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom.

I hear him chuckle as he steps back, putting on his watch while he takes in my reflection on the mirror.

“Would be a sin to say the same about you?” He asks.

“It might be, signore.” I reply, my voice sultry as I push myself away from the doorframe stalking toward the man who stands tall and powerful, his hand tucked on the pockets of his slacks.

“How so?” He asks raising his chin as I pick up his cologne spraying a puff on him.

“How so-” I test the words on my lips.

“It’s because I’m not going out to break hearts.” I reply.

“Aren’t you?” He asks tilting his chin.

“I’m not.” I reply placing the cologne bottle down on the dressing table. “Shall we?”

Angelo nods offering me his hand on which I place mine and he helps me out of the room, locking the door behind us.

The restaurant was already somewhat filled up for the night. The receptionist walks us to our table, in a corner, almost hidden from the eyes of the others in the same room before lighting the candles and taking her leave.

“I ordered beforehand when I placed the reservation.” Angelo announces. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“It’s fine.” I reply watching his face through the soft glow of the candle lights, casting a shadow over his sharp features.

They appear more dangerously handsome in dim glow than in full light.

I bite my bottom lip, looking down at the fine cutlery arranged out.

“What is it?” Angelo asks, his voice soft and low.

“Nothing.” I reply with a shake of my head.

“You look rather ravishing.” He added ignoring my answer. “It’s seldom you adorn yourself with red.”

“Not my best color.” I shake my head.

“Then you clearly don’t know your color, mia regina.” He says reaching for my hand. “You look beautiful.”

“Grazie.” I reply. “You look handsome as well.”

He gives me one of his rare half smile and shakes his head pulling my knuckles to his lips, placing a chaste kiss.

Shortly after a waitress comes with our wine and board of appetizers. The room temperature Masseto smells sensual as the waitress pours a tasting amount on our glass.

“Perfezione.” Angelo comments after taking a taste. “We will have it, grazie.”

The waitress pours a generous amount in both our glasses before taking her leave. The appetiser board is equally fancy as the aged wine.

“You planned it all out.” I teased after the woman serving us was out of earshot.

“I did.” He smirks. “And- I have plans after, as well.”

“And what might that be, signore?” I whispered the rim of the wine glass pressed on my lips.

“It’s a surprise.” He whispers.

“Oh- how I love surprises.” I mumble reaching for a little cheese bite.

“Why, I know you do.” He smirks.

Angelo asks the waitress to pack our desert after our meal before standing up and offering me his palm.

Flushed from the wine and his lascivious gaze, I place my hand on his, soaring to my full height.

Plus the four inches added gracefully by the stilettos.

“Are you ready?” Angelo asks, his onyx orbs shining playfully yet with carnal and lewd desire.

“Sí.” I replied, meeting his eyes with mine, a warm whisper running down my body covering me like a thin blanket.

Angelo walks me toward the exit where our car awaits. The waitress meets us as well, with a paper bag containing our desert and the half filled bottle of aged red wine that we shared.

“Goditi la serata.” The lady wishes to the pair of us pulling the door open, letting us out of the romantic setting of the restaurant.

(Enjoy your evening)

“Grazie.” I smiled waving the woman bye, as Angelo with his free hand pressed against the small of my back leads me to the passenger seat of the car.

I take the paper bag from him letting him drive.

“Where are we going?” I ask, inspecting my appearance on the visor mirror, dabbing my finger over my lips, salvaging my fading away lipstick.

“You’ll see.” Angelo replies, his eyes straight ahead, fixated on the road but his mouth pulled into a half smile.

Damnit

! Should have brought a little purse with my lipstick .

Pouting I rub my lips together hoping to balance out the tone.

Urgh !

“You’re fine, tadpole.” Angelo chuckles reaching for my hand. “You are mighty fine.”

I pout. “Even with stupid messed up lipstick?”

“Especially with stupid messed up lipstick.” He says kissing my knuckles.

I shake my head, a stupid smile playing on my expression.

Capo Best one can be cute when he wants to be, huh?

“Did you enjoy the meal?” He asks.

“I did. I loved the meal.” I reply. “And the wine. And the candles.”

“I’m glad, tadpole.”

“I’m glad, as well.” I muse leaning up to place a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for tonight.”

“You’re welcome, baby.” He replies when the car comes to a halt smoothly on the gravel covered road.

“Where are we?” I chuckle, taking in the view in front of us.

“Loose your shoes, tadpole.” Angelo says.

I do. Quickly, I slip the Louboutins off my feet as Angelo opens his door, letting himself out first before moving toward mine and opening it.

“Grazie.” I thanked the man grabbing the paper bag containing desert and wine.

It’s then I see, a white blanket or sheet over Angelo’s arm as he leads me near the ocean.

Sand grains cool against my bate feet, fresh salty breeze against my hair whipping them away from my face in all directions.

“Angelo!” I gasp, feeling the most pampered and happy in a while.

“Come along.” He man said watching me expression given that I was close to tears.

Not bad tears.

Not at all like the ones I’ve been shedding.

I followed Angelo toward the beach front, where he laid out the white sheet before holding out his hand for me to take.

Taking his outstretched hand I sat in the blanket beside him, putting the wine and a container of tiramisu on the blanket, methodically peeling away the tape holding the lid to the box.

“It’s been a while.” I mumble taking an offered spoonful of the sweet delicacy from Angelo’s hand.

“It’s so calm and beautiful, here.” I added. “Don’t remember the last time I had been to a beach.”

“Me neither.” He replies.

I humm, leaning my head against his shoulders.

“Thank you for tonight, Angelo.” I whispered. “I mean it.”

“You needn’t thank me, sweetheart.” He replies, his arm around my shoulder drawing lazy little circles on my cool, breeze blown skin.

“You deserve the world.” He adds.

It makes me flush, so I hide my face on the crook of his neck.

“Would you like to go take a dip?” Angelo asks after a second of silence passing between us. The gently breeze on our skin, the salty smell of the sea against our nose.

“I don’t have a swimsuit.” I giggle. “Neither can I swim.”

“Ahh.” Angelo pulls me more flush against him. “This is but beautiful.”

“It is.” I reply.

I hum in response closing my eyes feeling all my senses coming alive, much more relaxed and loose than being in constant confusion and pain.

Angelo’s phone vibrates making him curse out loud as he fishes the device out of his pocket, answering it almost immediately.

“Boss?” He announces frowning.

I wonder if something is wrong? Given that Roman called two times this evening alone and the first time their conversation seemed rather private than it sounds now.

“Oh hey, mama.” He smiles absentmindedly.

Oh ?

I didn’t know Alyssa was back already.

Goodie, if the woman is back. Nonetheless, I might have someone to talk to me given that Blaire doesn’t want to talk.

Can’t stand me and all that I am. Was her exact words.

It dampens my mood.

“Sí, she’s with me.” Angelo asks, instinctively his fingers tightening around on my flesh.

His reaction makes me frown.

“For whatever the reason that is, my answer is no. I’ve said it before.” Angelo grunts staying silent for a while, undoubtedly hearing whatever the woman on the other end is saying.

“Listen to me, maa.” He sighs. “It will cause nothing but unrest in the family. I’m not going to America. No.”

It’s another sigh that follows him before he snaps at the woman on the other end with a no.

I frown wondering if anything was indeed wrong?

Alyssa was  calling him with Roman’s phone.

He was adamant about not going to America. And for what exactly? Angelo doesn’t do business in America.

“So what I am ought to do what exactly, ma?” He asks. “What am I ought to do? Run to America for his aid? Is that what you want? And what about Lorenzo? What does he want?”

Silence.

“Well at least somebody understands.” He snaps. “I’m not leaving for America with Ariel or without her as a mater of fact, If he wants to see me, for once he can make an effort-”

Silence.

“I don’t care about his wife!” He yells.

Silence.

“I know.” He sighs once again going from over the top mad to just over the top tensed.

Alert, I rub his back, eyes fixed on his reaction.

“I know ma, I’m sorry but my answer is still no.” He says calmly. “Don’t get Roman to pledge this bet because you damn well know he won’t do it.”

Silence.

“I know.” He sighs. “I love you. And don’t talk to him. Why do you talk to him?”

Silence.

“Lorenzo is my father.” He adds. “I’ll let you go-”

Silence.

“Yes, I’ll let Ariel know.”

Silence.

“Jesus Christ.” He sighs. “I will let her know, maa.”

Their interaction makes my frown even deeper and I wonder what might the issue be?

Angelo pockets his device heaving a sigh uncorking the wine bottle taking a drag.

“Is everything okay at home?” I ask my one hand on his back the other on his outstretched thigh.

“As okay as it always is.” Angelo says as if he’s disappointed.

“You’re angry.” I point out. “I didn’t know Alyssa was back-”

“I forgot to tell you. She landed back early this morning.” He concludes.

“Do you suppose it’s something serious?” I ask, rubbing the spot on his back

“No, its nothing serious.” He replies pulling me close to him once more. “It’s signore Richardson acting like a fucking bastard as always.”

I wince in my head from his crude acknowledgement regarding his father.

But then again, it’s not like the award for the best daughter of the decade goes to me, either.

“Is that why you need to go to America?” I ask.

The thought twists me internally.

I recall what happened when he went to Greece and how he came back with three bullet wounds as souvenir.

It makes me shiver.

“No, he wants me to go to America and I’m not going to America.” He says. “I’m not leaving you. Greece is still raw in my head, tadpole.”

I nod, leaning my head on his shoulder.

“We might have to go to Naples soon, regardless.” He adds.

“How soon?” I ask.

“Before than I planned.”

My thoughts travel back to Belle.

I turn five in three days. She had said.

You be back for my birthday? She had asked and I had promised the little girl that I will be back for her birthday.

I don’t want to fail her.

I could care less about thousands people I fail in my life, just not her.

A couple of hours and I had already fallen in love with my little sister and her vibrant soul.

I chew on my lip, wondering when is before than Angelo’s plan.

“What are you thinking?” He asks.

I shrug. “Belle turns five in three days.”

Angelo chuckles, leaning to place a kiss on my head.

“You love her don’t you?” He asks, his eyes staring right back at me.

I nod. “The most. She’s very loveable.”

“We’ll stay, don’t worry. Its not that soon.”

I nod. “I thought you meant tomorrow.”

“Saturday.” He replies. “We leave on Saturday.”

Today being Tuesday does it’s wonders.

I smile pulling Angelo in for a little kiss. “Grazie.”

“I’d do just about anything for you, Bubbles.”

I smile, a blush creeping up to my cheeks as I play with the small hairs on the nape of his neck.

On the way to the hotel I beg to Angelo so that we stop by a pet store.

He asks me why given that we already have two companions at home.

I don’t give him an answer but still ask him to stop by a pet store. So he does.

“We’re not allowed a pet inside the hotel, sweetheart.” Angelo says as we enter the shop.

I am tempted as I see the doggies in their pen and cats. A variety of birds. An aquarium full of colorful fishes to choose from.

I’m not much of a cat person, but if I could I would take all these little yapping doggies home and make a guest room a play own for them.

Maybe Coco and Poodle can use a playmate?

Maybe two. I wonder as I make my way to the lady who sits behind a half circular table a little parrot on a cage beside her.

“Hello.” I greet the elderly woman who peers down on a book, reading classes perched on her nose.

“Hello.” I hear.

But it’s not the lady, its the parrot that replies.

“Hah- he can talk?” I ask, giggly and a stupid grin on my face.

“No inglese.” The lady grumbles from behind the table.

(No English.)

“Oh. I- ah- Hai coniglietti?  un mese o due?”

(Oh. I- ah- do you have bunnies? One or two month old?)

“Sí.” The woman replies. “Paio?”

(Pair?)

“Sí.” I reply.

When we exit the shop, I have two little white bunnies, two pair of huge ruby for their eyes as they blink around the dark ambience of the car.

“Cute.” I mumbled pushing a finger inside the cage, brushing one’s fur back as it closes its eye relishing the comfort.

Angelo chuckles with a shake of his head.

“Are you going to call your sister to know if she’s awake?” Angelo asks. “Aren’t kids ought to be asleep by six.”

“Kids are not ought to sleep at six.” I reason giving him the direction. “Also I don’t have my phone.”

He sighs. “Alright.”

We stop in front of the mansion, the gravel path before us, as I chew on my lip, debating.

The discission to buy not one but two baby rabbits for Belle was abrupt in my defense.

Coming to the mansion at nine o’clock at night the same day with the pets for my sister was absurd.

I wonder, if I’d be welcome without an invite from them. Given that mama and papa’s divorce-

I mean, Belle stays with mama which means she might not be here for Lord’s mercy.

“What are you thinking?” Angelo asks tapping the steering wheel with one hand, the other reaching for me that laid flat on top of the small cage that rested on my lap.

“I’m not doing anything unreasonable and stupid, am I?” I ask, looking at him.

“Why would you be doing anything unreasonable and stupid?” He asks, a frown forming between his brows.

“It’s- it’s just that- it’s abrupt that we came here.” I whisper. “Maybe they wouldn’t like it- maybe they’d - maybe I’m overstepping my invite?”

“They are your parents.” He reasons. “Why wouldn’t they like their daughter visiting them?”

I shrug making an uncomfortable sound with my mouth. “I don’t know~”

“Shh.” He urges. “Go on. I’ll wait-”

“No, I don’t think so.” I reply, shaking my head. “Come on.”

“You don’t want to take a little more time-”

“Papa knows.” I reply. “Come on.”

He sighs.

Belle wasn’t a sleep.

Quite the opposite in fact.

She was running around the house with her chonky teddy under her arm, while my mother looked an Armstrong away from loosing her temper and patience, a bowl in her hand.

“Hey.” Mama whisperer with a smile when I fidgeted standing on the threshold of the house.

With a smile she walked toward me and Angelo. He looked uneasy.

As uneasy as he can look while still looking confident and tall.

“Hey.” I replied holding up the cage of bunnies between us. “I got Belle a present.”

If my mother was an Armstrong away losing her patience a minute ago than she was right now hiding her lost patience just fine.

Her mouth opened and closed like a fish for several times before she sighed shaking her head.

“And maa-” I called placing the cage down, my hand reaching for Angelo. “This is Angelo.”

She smiles at me first then turns to the taller man.

“Serena.” She replies offering her hand to him. “Lovely to meet you, darling. I’m sorry for the mess-” she fumbled gesturing around the hall that was scattered with cushions and toys and exercise books.

“Angelo Giovanni, ma’am.” He replies, curtly. “Pleasure.”

Mama nods, telling us to come inside.

“That wasn’t so bad.” I whispered to Angelo who leaned down to place a kiss on my head.

“It wasn’t.”

“Ah, princess!” Dad chimes walking down the stairs, a mug in his hand already dressed in his pajamas. “And-”

“This is Angelo, papa.” I said.

“Ah. Signore Angelo.” He said with a nod of his head walking toward us.

“Angelo Giovanni, signore.” The man says from beside me, offering him his hand for a shake.

“Sí. Sí” Papa, smiles taking his hand for a firm shakes. “Can’t say I haven’t heard of you, signore.”

“Dominating real estate and construction like a mafia, aren’t you?”

Pursing my lip I look at the marble floor under my feet.

Well

Angelo laughs at the comment shaking his head, as if dismissing the compliment.

Or was it an assumption?

Either way it send a jolt of panic down my spine.

“So- how did you meet my little princess-”

“Buuuuuuun!” Belle runs around, wedging herself between papa and me. He teddy on her arm. “You is back?”

“Yep.” I say bending down and patting the cage on the floor. “I got you an early present.”

“Bunny?” She gasps dramatically. “Two bunny.”

“Sí.” I nod. “Two bunnies for you.”

“Howww-” She pouts. “They so cute!”

“Do you like them?” I ask, hopeful.

“I love them, bun!” She says wrapping her arms around my neck, over the cage. “Thank you.”

I pick her up, supporting her bottom on my arms. “Ugh. You’re welcome, bun.” I say mirroring her tone.

“I love you bun.” She sighs.

“I love you, too.” I whisper placing a silent kiss on top of her head, my eyes meeting my father’s abruptly.

He awards me with a gentle smile and pats both our heads, his conversation with Angelo diverted.

“Also, I dun like mama’s pasta.” She whispers. “It doesn’t really taste that good today~”

I giggle shaking my head, cupping the back of her head, hugging the little girl to me.

50

“What is it that I can do for you?” I asked the man sitting across from me in the conference room.

Aron Richardson tried a failed attempt to read my reaction, his eyes boring into mine.

I was not the proud possessor of his caramel colored eyes. Identical to mama Cora’s. There were not enough as much similarities and resemblance  between me and signore Richardson.

Not really.

He looked an awful level similar to mama Coralyn.

And both of his son’s were the proud owner of his physical features. Their pretty boy good look have no doubt scoured past me.

As if it was decided before my arrival that I would be the unwanted bastard son, the bad blood the Richardson never wanted.

The shunned, if you will.

Nor had any wish to connect unless it was their ass on fire.

Only then.

“You make it seem like the relationship I have with is purely business, son.” My father replied to me with a smile.

“By all means if you flew all the way to Florence to talk about last night’s football, I’m game, signore.”

The man across from me chuckles. “I believe our concept of football is different.”

All the more reason why I shouldn’t be here sitting against my will in the first place .

But nevertheless I was. Because God forbid I could say no to her.

For unlike signore Richardson, my mother meant to me. Unlike him, my mother to me was priceless.

Unlike him, I respected and loved my mother.

“Then I’m sure we have nothing but business to talk about.” I replied. “What can I do for you?”

Silence.

After ten seconds of utter silence, I hear the man sigh audibly and sit up straight in his chair.

“I would like to have a family meal with you.” He said.

Family meal.

Family meal.

A little red emotion stirs inside me, spreading an unwelcoming warmth throughout my spine, down my legs.

“family. Meal?” I tested the words. “What do you suppose that means, signore?”

“You know what it means, son.”

“As a mater of fact, I don’t. Enlighten me.”

“Must you always be so professional?”

“I must. Being that we are sitting in a conference room, professionalism is a must.” I replied. “Enlighten me, what do you denote by family meal?”

“Alyssa, you and I, say for dinner in a hotel-”

“My family extends more than my mother and I.” I replied. “Or are you that behind?”

“Angelo-”

“I am sorry, I can’t accept your invitation.” I replied quickly.

“It wasn’t an invitation, it was a father’s request.”

“Don’t go acting like that now signore Richardson, you sons and your wife might believe you.”

“Son-”

“Don’t go requesting about things, I can’t keep.” I reply. “There is no reason for you to start acting and requesting like a father when you have undoubtedly made it clear that you would rather be absent instead of being a parent.”

“What do you say about your birthday-”

“No.” I snapped. “Don’t you dare-”

“I’m trying to make amends here.” He registered, a look of surprise shooting up in his features.

Amends?

Amends for what?

Amends for not acknowledging you have a son for twenty nine years?

Amends for almost pushing the woman carrying your child to toward a self induced death and more self doubt than she could handle?

Amends for just being absent and showing your face when your ass is on fucking fire?

I could sit here and make lists after lists of his amendment but it wouldn’t still be enough.

He doesn’t get to waltz into my life and refer to himself, mama and I as a family.

There wasn’t anything family about us till his fucking will got involved.

And now all of a sudden we’re his family?

The impertinence leaves me at a loss for words.

“Don’t bother.” I replied. “You’ve missed twenty eight birthdays, one of those again won’t hurt you as much, dad .”

“Angelo, I an trying to make up for lost time. Time and time again I have said that I was sorry and whatever I did wasn’t what I should have done, you need to let me alter my bad decisions.”

Bad decisions.

Bad decisions.

Bad decisions.

Bad decisions.

Bad decisions.

“Altering your bad decisions nay include my death as well, dad .” I scoffed.

“You can’t talk to me that way, Angelo.” He warns, a sudden rush of fury washing over him.

Have I hit a nerve, signore?

“I believe it’s best if we rest our meeting here.” I replied my hands clasped in front of me on the table top. “My answer would be no, if you fail to recognize who my family are.”

“Fine.” The older man snaps. “Fine. You want your mother’s husband while we wine and dine? Sure. Go ahead-”

“That would be my father signore Richardson.” I gritted.

How dare he?

“You know, the man whose last name I take , the man who didn’t ask my name on my fifth birthday party. The man who raised me, signore?” I ask. “That man.”

“Angelo-”

“I sincerely apologise, I have to leave.” I replied all of a suddenly  feeling as if the air around me is turning several degrees hotter. As of the air around me is making a mess of my sane thinking.

I need to get out.

I need to get myself away from this man trying to question my family, my father and all that I believe without a doubt.

He’s just been Aron for the last twenty nine years. I don’t expect him to come waltzing in and acting all fatherly with me.

I don’t accept it by any means.

He can’t walk up to me one Wednesday morning and act like he’s been a victim of bad decision and expect me to put the bad blood behind and play home.

“Angelo wait!” I hear as I gather my laptop before pocketing my cell, hoping to get out of this room before this man makes the water flow over my head and I end up doing something I wouldn’t regret but would lower my mother’s and father’s reputation to his family.

Because God knows I wouldn’t regret punching this bastard on his face.

“Angelo-”

That’s it. The automatic doors close shut as soon as I make my way out of the air conditioned conference room toward the elevator.

Once inside the car, I heave a breath of relief feeling my head pound with the rage burning in my head as I try to calm myself down from the silent outburst of anger in the meeting room.

Walk away. I remembered. When you can’t work out the energy, just walk away.

Yeah, the might be one good piece of advice I have ever received because the energy to punch that man in the face was stronger than the urge to walk the fuck away.

Ringing Lorenzo’s cell, I rest my bead against the headrest of the car.

Come on, dad . I mentally urged.

The man picked up on the last ring.

“Angelo?” I heard his muffled voice from the phone being in my hand.

“Buongiorno, dad.” I replied followed by a sigh.

“Its almost noon but, Buongiorno, yeah.” He chuckles. “Why do you sound like you ran a good damn marathon?”

“Whatever, man.” I chuckled. “Are you and mama settled good?”

Papa laughs on the other end. “Sí, mama is settled good. I’m going back to the office today, what did you call for?”

“Just wanted to ask if you and mama are settled.” I replied.

“Well mama and I are settled fine.” He says. “I’m only sixty, I can handle my wife just fine even she has some screws missing most of the days.”

I laugh and Lorenzo joins in.

Last night’s plan after an impromptu visit to Bubble’s family was that her little sister wanted to spend some time with her. Both the girls had decided that they’d go to the beach and have some fun.

Being in the mess that I was until five minutes ago, I said I would bring them pizza for lunch so they don’t have run about and can enjoy their time playing.

Said like done, I stopped in front of a local pizza store getting two medium pizza margherita with thick crust and extra cheese for Ariel and Belle before making my way to the gravel covered road hoping to calm myself down before Ariel sees my distressed demeanour and decides to play twenty questions.

Emotionally, I felt the woman had hit her rock bottom.

The conversation with Blaire the day prior was not something I didn’t know. I knew every little word that came out of Blaire’s mouth.

I don’t have any idea if Blaire was drunk or high or was on crack that made her react this way.

Neither did I have any idea about her wants and needs, so I wouldn’t go there. But the way her voice sounded he seemed pretty vexed toward the woman who she claims to be her best friend.

Women have strange ways to validate their friendship, given that where outbursts as insensitive as Blaire’s is considered alright.

How come a friend doesn’t get the necessity to understand her friend’s mental state before sputtering up a bunch of garbage that keeps her awake at night and makes tear linger in her eyes?

Dosing Ariel with my share of worries wouldn’t be a fair game given that the amount of doubts and distress she is going through.

Parking the car, I exited the vehicle with the food bag in hand, jogging down the steps lading at the sandy beach.

The full blown sun shining angrily hits me the moment I get out of the car.

I instantly regret not dressing in something breathable and acceptable for the surrounding, even though I left my jacket in the car and rolled the sleeves of my  white button down, the heat was still evident through the dark material of my slacks.

Well fuck me.

Being a week day, the beach was however empty apart from some tourists venturing the sand and the ocean. It wasn’t hard to spot Ariel and Belle.

The pair of the women had set up a huge colorful umbrella rationally away from the water. While Belle poured a bucket full of water on the sand trying to upright her sand structure, Ariel was on her back, her legs bent at the knees. Reading.

Their calm and relaxed picture tells me they have been enjoying their time.

“Am I early or late?” I asked as I stood cross from the girls, blocking away whatever sun was greeting them.

“Perfectly on time.” My woman mused sitting up, a lovely smile stretched across her face as she faces me. “How was your meeting?”

“Good.” I replied not advancing further on the topic as I slipped off my shoes and socks before stepping into the red blanket they had spread out for their adventure.

“Pizza for lunch?” I asked.

“Prefect.” Ariel smiled placing a chaste kiss on my mouth as a silent thank you. But I pulled her for a slight longer, taking her bottom lip between both of mine, relishing the taste of sweet and sour lemonade.

“You taste divine.” I whisper against her mouth as my fingers pushes away the escaped tendrils of her hair behind her ears.

“Not so bad yourself, Capo Bestone.” She teases. “How are you?”

“I am fine, sweetheart.” I replied placing a kiss in the centre of her forehead cupping her face between both my hands. “How are you?”

“Jolly Good.” She replies untangling herself from our compromising position and sitting back down on the blanket.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I see the youngest LaRusso spawn looking at me like she wants to dump her cute little bucket of sand on my head.

“You can’t kiss, bun!” She says swinging the toy bucket in her hand. “She’s my bun.”

I frown at the little creature as Ariel bursts into a fit of giggles.

What’s the scene to laugh?

“You’re very mean!” The girl snaps again in her five year old adorable angry voice. Her hand still holding that pathetic excuse for a plastic bucket.

I mean, it’s a toy .

“I am mean, am I?” I ask frowning.

“I don’t share, Mister.” She wiggles a little finger at me. “Don’t kissy kissy bun! Rude!”

Ariel giggles again pulling the little human to her by her hand, settling Belle on her lap, placing a kiss on her head.

“You’re silly, Belle.” My woman muses cupping the little girls cheek on her palms.

“You can’t kissy kissy him.” Belle protests yet again under the influence of her tiny  brain. “He’s a boy! He has cooties!”

What ?

“Daddy says boys have cooties!”

Is that borderline warning to turn this girl into a nun or something?

I wouldn’t be surprised if this takes the other way road.

“Angelo doesn’t have cooties.” Ariel laughs.

“But you dunno!” She argues with her sister her hands thrown above her like the world has stopped spinning and Belle is disappointed that I don’t have cooties.

“I want pop.” Belle muses, narrowing her eyes at me and resting her air filled head on her sister’s chest.

I almost didn’t notice how Belle was wearing the same one piece bathing suit, only in the smaller size that Ariel donned on.

Both were yellow and white with flowers and frill instead of straps for sleeves.

Awfully, that scene of matching wardrobe was- adorable.

“But you had one pop.” Ariel says stroking the small girl’s dark curls that frame her face. “A little strawberry one?”

“But I want a cola flavoured one too, bun!” The girl whines. “Strawberry is sour.”

Ariel crinkles up her nose but somehow manages to console the girl that she can get a cola flavoured popsicle after lunch.

Reluctantly the girl doesn’t let herself down from Ariel’s lap as she feasts on two slices of pizza. Very dramatically, rather she huffs putting the remaining crust of the pizza bread in the paper box.

I have the urge to tell her to finish her bread but refrain from doing so. I’m already in her hit list.

The damage she can do with the bucket

Lord, save me.

Grinning to myself I shake my head.

“What’s so funny?” Ariel asks watching me with a mused expression. Her eyes fixated on my face as I open the cooler they brought, pouring myself yet another glass of rosé with the food.

“Nothing.” I reply.

“He’s making fun of me!” Belle complains.

“I didn’t even say you anything.” I reply with a frown.

“You’re making fun of me, you meanie!” She accuses with a high pitched whine.

Tantrum. Spoiled.

“Are you making fun of Belle?” Ariel asks raising an eyebrow at me, her expression playful.

Well, thank fuck at least she has one girl she could trust not to break her emotionally .

“No.” I reply. “Why would I make fun of her?”

“He’s laughing at me!” Belle whines wiggling a tiny finger at me. “Liar! I’ma tell mommy you is very rude and you gave bun cooties! Ew!”

“Your head my darling is filled with air.” I accuse back.

“Huh!” She gasps as if I have offended the little creature. “See? See? How mean!”

“Okay!” Ariel breaks in. “Time out. Get some pops, go. Go with Angelo.”

“No!” Belle huffs turning her face away from me. “He’s rude!”

“But I don’t have money.” Ariel shrugs. “So you can go with Angelo or no pop.”

“Tell him to give you money!” She squeaks.

“No can do, sweetheart.” I intervene showing the girl a flashy note of two hundred.

“Gimme it!” Belle extends her hand in a grabbing motion making me pull my hand away. The small human whines again.

After back and forth bickering, Belle walks to the nearest beach store with me, bulling me to pick her up because it’s hot and she can’t walk but she needs popsicles.

The drama.

“I’ll tell you what, princess.” I say as I sit her down in the shop’s counter so she can look at all the popsicle through the glass. “I buy you whatever and you share your bun with me.”

“No way!” She mumbles looking at the colorful popsicles packed in are through plastic wraps. “I want cola.”

I motion the shopkeeper to give the little brat a coca cola flavoured popsicle.

“You want to loose the deal?” I ask as she accepts the frozen coca cola from the man behind the counter.

I see Belle pouting for good ten seconds before she frowns. “Are you buying me?”

Smart girl.

“Yes.” I reply.

“And you want half of bun?”

“Sí, princess.”

“Nope.”

Smart .

“Suit yourself.” I say picking her up after paying for her popsicle and settle her on my arm.

Ariel had put on a summer dress on top the girl’s bathing suit and she was doing a damn good job of ruining it with the dripping popsicle.

“Yummy!” Belle squeaks biting off the head of the iced sugar making me close my eyes and wince for a second.

This girl was some cracker. I thought.

I have no idea how Ariel was at her age. Maybe she was this way, this much out going and loud as Belle, maybe quite the opposite, but I can tell that if this girl doesn’t show her parents what headache is I’m pretty sure nothing else will.

But if her father’s plan to turn her into a nun works, I’m pretty sure they’ll live a happy tension free life.

“There you go, drown yourself.” I say putting her down on the sand as we reach where Ariel and Belle had set up their fort.

“I won’t!” She giggled planting herself on the sand before crying out and scampering on top of the blanket one hand rubbing her backside, eyes tearing.

“Lord!” Ariel jolts seizing the small creature by her arm, rubbing where she was a second ago. “Does it hurt?”

Sniffing Belle shakes her head but continues to rub her scorched behind.

Even though the scene is highly comical I refrain from laughing and go back to enjoy my warm glass of blush pink wine.

“I got burnt.” Belle muttered planting herself in her sister’s lap, mumbling something about the sun and how rude it was.

I suppose the girl doesn’t even know the meaning of rude but whatever turns her air filled head.

It was after sun set when Ariel and I drove a sleepy Belle to her parents house.

“She’s very fond of you.” Ariel said, her body clad in a summer dress that once again matched her little sister.

Adorable.

I chuckle at her statement getting into the car, ready to pull away from the surrounding of this mansion after delivering Belle to the safe heaven of her mother.

“She has blamed me for being rude and mean. Accused me of STDS and you tell me that little mad creature is fond of me?”

Ariel giggles shaking her head. “She is.”

“And pray tell me how did you conclude that, tadpole?” I ask.

Ariel shrugs. “There is this look of fondness in her, like a little sister has for her elder brother.”

“How do you know that?” I ask. “She hates me because her words and I quote, you have cooties.

Ew !“

Ariel giggles stretching her arms above her head giving out a moan of utter comfort and relaxation.

“Did you have fun today?” I ask.

“Mmhmm.” My woman nods, undoing the knot in top of her head as I press the button lowering the roof of the car. “I had a lot of fun. Belle is good company.”

“Maybe you should have more five year old friends.” I reply with a shake of my head.

“She’s going to give my parents seven degree hell, you know?” Ariel asks, a playful edge to her sultry voice.

“I assumed.”

“I’ll be rooting for her.”

I laugh.

We end up taking a long way for the hotel. The wind and the eery calm of the streets, oddly adds up to my mood. And for once in a long while, I find myself focussing on the road only, nothing else in my mind.

“Are you taking me for a drive, Capo Bestone?” Ariel asks from the seat beside me.

“I am.” I agree, smirking at her kitten purr tone.

“Goody old romantic, you are.” She teased shaking her mane of hair curling up to the seat. “I don’t remember the last time I was so- calm.”

“Maybe we should come back to the beach once in a while more.” I add to her. “If you have enjoyed as much.”

“Hmm.” Ariel hummed leaning her head back and fluttering her eyes at me.

The sun had surely drained some energy of them no doubt.

“But I can’t wait to go back home with you, Angel.” She whispered. “I miss home.”

Can’t wait to go back home with you.

I smile.

“Me too sweetheart.” I say reaching for her smaller hand. “Me too.”

AUTHOR’S NOTE

I’m back to talk shire as usual yes. I feel like a hypocrite because of showing my face once in a while. So I thought yeah, even though I wrote 3600 words of total bs, let’s upsie this and be done with.

I’ve always struggled with Angelo’s pov. It’s been an alway s issue for me but given that these words flew out meant, I didn’t have trouble, so this is not really the Angelo POV I would like.

But I swear, if you read this, the rewrite will be x1000 times better. Thank you!

Sorry for this shitty chapter but I really wanted to have some Belle moments because her arrival was not at all planned. Heh~

-November.

51

The train ride from Florence back to Naples was an emotional one for me.

Belle’s crying face would made its way back to me in my head. The little girl was distraught and angry that I had to leave.

Her sadness centering to me. Anger thrown at Angelo thinking he was the bad guy all over.

I hated to leave her too. The last three days with Belle has been heaven. Even mama and papa seemed to be okay with me and Belle too.

Belle and I, went to the beach, attended Belle’s piano class, walked through the small play park buying her every sugar item I could find much to mama’s dismay and dad’s wincing after he heard why couldn’t we eat dinner after our walks. We shopped from kids and mom stores getting a number of matching outfit and crazy hair accessory and sporting them every time we stepped out of the house. Even for walks to the small stores where they sold used goods or just random local items.

Accompanying us Angelo seemed mortified while paying bills at the stores and to the cotton candy and doughnut and sweet vendor.

But then again, all the happy faces lead back to the crying one during departure. No amount of I will visit you soon made the little woman stop bawling her eyes out. No amount of don’t

cry s made her sobs subside.

It was late, already past dinner time, when the train stopped at the Napoli station. And since then the car ride was making my head hurt. A steady pump of ache that dominated my whole demeanor.

“Where are you lost? Angelo asks pushing a strand of my hair behind my ears.

“Just thinking.” I mumble. My head resting on his shoulder, the car cruising through the streets of Napoli smoothly. Driving us to our destination.

“About the brat princess?” The man beside me jokes. “God, how I am glad to save my tail from her.”

“You’re rude.” I mumble at his insensitive joke toward my little sister making him chuckle.

“I miss the creature too.” He says, his hand that was around my shoulders rubbing gently. “It’s been- fun getting to know her.”

“I know.” I say. “I’m going to miss her too much.”

“Hmm.”

“It’s surprising how in such a short time, she blended herself with me.” I add.

“Indeed.” Angelo replies. “She’s a very much mini you.”

“I wasn’t like Belle growing up.” I disclose.

“You weren’t?”

“No.” I sigh. “I was really quiet. Kept to myself. Not loud not bossing everyone around-”

“I like Belle’s attempt to boss everyone about.” Angelo laughs. “Poor thing her rabbits are”

“Rude.” I complain, nuzzling my face to his neck. “I’m so tired.”

“I know baby.” He urges. “Try to sleep. It’s some drive to home and it’s late.”

He was right. But the head ache from the journey and the emotional whirlwind before the journey didn’t help when I closed my eyes. I was still very much awake even my body wanted some desperate rest.

Almost an hour later when the car halted in front of the double parted gates in front of the property, I heard the barks of very two enthusiastic dogs.

“Looks like they’re excited.” I mumble raising my face from Angelo’s shoulder who only chuckles shaking his head.

Angelo gets off the vehicle first and then helps me out, with an arm protectively wrapped around my shoulders.

“Okay?” He asks as we step into the house. Surprisingly the driveway and most of the property was clean and absent of fallen leaves.

“Sí, signore.” I reply but then I’m met with Coco and Poodles barks while they launch themselves at me, as I squat down to tickle them.

“My good boys.” I coo picking both of them up in my arms, struggling. “Did you miss mama? Yeah?”

The pair of the puppies yap in response, while Poodle gives me a slimy lick. “You did?” I gush. “I missed you too- I missed to you too-”

“Capo Bestone.” Bertie greets Angelo first. “Ariel- all good?”

“Never better, Bertie!” I give him a side hug with the puppies still in my arms.

“Alberto.” Angelo nods. “Grazie.”

Bertie looks flustered shaking his head. “Just doing my job, Boss.”

Angelo pats the man on his shoulder before walking along with me inside the house.

Home sweet home.

The house doesn’t even look ad if it had been burnt only a week ago. The tiles on the floor was as it was. The ceiling stretched high and above, looks just about the same. As if I went for a vacation, leaving the door locks.

“What’s the matter, tadpole?” Angelo asks wrapping an arm around me, as I cuddle my fur balls to my chest.

“Nothing.” I offer him a truthful answer. “I just missed this place, Angelo.”

“Me too.” He whispers, rubbing his thumb on my exposed shoulder. “Let’s go up, I want to see the bedroom.”

Nodding to him, I let the puppies down who takes not even a second to run about while Angelo leads me to the staircase followed by the corridor to the master suite.

Moving behind me, my man pushes my hair over my shoulder, exposing my back and neck to his advantage. Placing soft, feather light open moth kisses while both of us stand on the doorway, he places his palms on my waist.

“You like?” Angelo asks, raspy voice ticking NY ear.

“I love.” I reply taking in the room before us. Most of it was just as before, just altered.

The big and long windows we’re there. Curtains were a different shade. The furniture was changed. Instead of the circular bed, a four poster king sized bed was pushed against the wall where our bed used to be. The rest of the furniture matching to it’s mahagony shade. Three steps led down to the sitting area.

“This is beautiful.” I added.

“I know.” Angelo whispers, his mouth yet innocently against my neck, hands creeping up to cup my breasts, feeling the weight of them on his hold, as I push myself against his raging girth. Backside meeting his cock through the layers of clothing between us.

“Jesus Fuck!” Angelo cusses loudly, fishing out his ringing phone from his pockets. “Giovanni.” He snaps rather moodily.

Turning to face the man, I give him a quizzical look with a half smile, while he frowns.

“Yes.” He replies to whoever on the other side of the phone. “I reckon I know that Don better than you, Mike-” With the man retrieves himself to the shower.

It’s only been a minute we’re home. I thought walking over to the new bed. The white linens laid out with embroidered trims. Silk pillows.

Work had already consumed their beloved Capo Bestone not giving him enough time to christian his new bed. But that’s okay. We’ll have plenty of time to do so. The left of the bed was my side, away from the peeking sun, early morning. My nightstand was adorned with reading lamp and a framed picture of me and Blaire.

Oh Blaire. I thought. Guilt and sadness making their appearance. I wish I hadn’t intervened in their set out arrangement. It was a step out of the line for me.

Signing, I placed the framed photograph back on the table before turning to undo my strapped sandals. A grim feeling looming over my mind.

I hear the water start in the shower, while I undress myself hoping to get some much needed shut eye. But it doesn’t come.

Not even after Angelo slips behind me, his cool naked body pressed against mine from the behind.

I am half awake when Angelo kisses me goodbye in the morning while leaving for work. He says that the fridge is stocked and boiled eggs are on the counter with sausages. I hummed back in response cuddling more to his empty pillow. And it was almost ten am, when I pluck out a number of colorful flower from the garden, making up my mind to set everything right between me and Blaire.

No way in this life or ten more, I was going to let her down again. I was a horrible, horrible friend to her and I deserved it.

Now I wanted this make everything up to her. I only had Blaire to confide into without being cautious or feeling as if I were being judged. Or anything really. I could only go for so many without her.

And four days seem like a lifetime.

The estate house was eerily silent today. As I make my way in, I feel like as if something went wrong. But every activity seems as normal like always. House maids cleaning. A commotion coming from the backyard that was being tended and all of everything that seemed normal.

Yet I felt as I stepping into an unwelcoming territory.

“Have you see Blaire?” I ask the housemaid walking out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a small towel.

“She’s inside, miss.” The lady muttered before walking away.

Surely Blaire bear was inside the kitchen, tinkering about something in the stove. A large soup pot on the stove before her.

“Buongiorno.” I smiled, the circular crystal vase filled with the flowers still on my hands.

My friends turns to see me. Expressionless. “Hey.” She mutters turning back to face her dish.

“I-I came by to give you flowers.” I said. “I only got back last night.”

“Flowers for what?” She asks moving toward a spice cabinet.

“For no reason.” I say. “I wanted to apologize-”

“I think I said, I didn’t want to see or hear you, Ariel.” She replies, finally turning to face me. “Why don’t you get it?”

“You’re my friend Blaire.” I reply. “I know, I shouldn’t have talked to Roman about taking you out, it didn’t seem disrespectful then but now it does and for that I’m sorry.”

“Get lost, Ariel.” She snaps. Her voice cold and distant. “And take you bullshit out with you.”

“Oh-”

“It angers me to think that you felt the need to set me up with the man who I’ve been fucking, Ariel.” Blaire points a finger at me acquisitively.

“If I want go have a man, I can get him myself without being your petty case!” She assures. “Don’t treat me like your petty case, oh poor Blaire-”

“I’m not-”

“Why don’t you keep it to yourself, Ariel?” She asks. “I didn’t ask for you to play saint for me.”

“That is enough.” I whisper, placing the vase of flowers on the kitchen island.

“I wasn’t treating you like a petty case.” I clarified. “I just gave Roman a friendly nudge in the directing that I thought he needed, because clearly you’ve been cranky about it too-”

“Oh, so I was bothering you?” She scoffs placing a hand on her chest. “It was me who you were annoyed with, is that what you wish to establish?”

“Not everything is about me, Blaire.” I say.

“Oh but it is.” She snaps. “Everything is always about you!” She blames.

I frown.

I hate whatever had given her this indication.

I hate the shade of this Blaire.

She wasn’t clearly the woman I bonded with as of this moment.

“Oh Angelo went to Greece and poor Ariel is fucking lonely so lets bring her diamonds, poor Ariel took two sleeping pills and couldn’t handle them, so let’s take her a fancy vacation. Oh, poor Ariel’s house burned down so let’s take her to Florence. Poor Ariel’s baby died so let’s all make a fucking throne for her cause she’s so fucking fragile!” Blaire yelled, her expression animated and voice laced with venom.

It broke my heart.

“It’s always about poor fucking Ariel.” She hissed back, her eyes meeting mine. Large blue eyes swirling with unshed tears.

“It’s always about brittle little Ariel who can’t handle a little shake cause she just breaks.”

Wow.

It’s-

I was really the villain to her story, huh?

All of a sudden?

“Blaire-”

“Don’t you fucking Blaire me!” She pointed at me with her finger again. “Why? Why did you make me feel like more garbage than I already felt like?”

“I didn’t realise-”

“Of course you didn’t.” She scoffs. “You never realise, do you?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Save it.”

“You sound really harsh right now.” I whispered, not liking how the sweet woman of my story had gone to be the Ursula of my story.

“Oh please.” She waves me off. “Don’t expect me to treat you like Angelo does.”

I look down.

“What do you want?” I ask.

“I don’t want anything.” She says. “What can I possibly want from you?”

Releasing a shaly breath I look at her. My tears threatening to leak out of my eyes.

“What do you wish that you had?” I whisper. “I’ll try to make it happen, Blaire. Just don’t react this way- you want me out? I’m gone.”

“That might be a good start, Bubbles.” She gives me a sniggering expression. “Get out.”

“I wish you’d understand that it’s not as easy as it seems.” I whispered ready to turn around and leave.

“Oh, it’s not?” She asks. “You literally just drop one little tear and you have Angelo and Roman wrapped around your fist like they’re your dogs!”

It’s not that.

“I wish you’d get me-”

“I don’t want to get you, Ariel.”

“I don’t have it easy.”

“Don’t talk to me about having of easy.” She snaps.

“You think it’s always happy for me?’

She scoffs.

“You have no idea who I was before this.” I reply. “But I haven’t forgotten. I never will.”

“Get out, Ariel.” She waved at me again, her expression that of bored, of was defining her sharp features almost cruelly.

“I will.” I say wiping my cheeks, taking away the evidence of tears that had streaked down my face. “You have no idea how it has been for me. I used to wake up everyday, blaming myself for whatever that I was going through. I woke up every morning, guilty to my unborn dead child.” I wipe my cheeks angrily.

“I woke up every morning feeling like it was me and of was because of me I was deprived of the one thing I desired the most in this world. Love. I used to blame me for my parents abandoning me.” I pause, Blaire doesn’t seem to show a shade of emotion.

She just stares blankly at me like I’m some headless crazy woman.

I guess I am.

“Do you have any idea how it feels to work three jobs at sixteen just so I could have enough to eat? Starting to dance at a club when I was nineteen so I could pay the bills? Being a mother at twenty and that being ripped away from me? Loving a man so much and then hating him because he killed my child and falling in love with him again?”

I shake my head. “You don’t. I wish you never do cause you don’t deserve it.”

“Get out.” She mutters, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Goodbye, Blaire.” I whisper.

I hear Donna Coralyn’s distant voice when I run out of the estate house, a palm slapped over my mouth to hide the sobs breaking out of my chest.

“Where to?” Bertie asks, his voice concerned.

“A-alyssa’s please.” I whisper.

“Sure.”

Bertie pulls away from the property in about a minute before I break the silence by calling his name.

“Sí?” He replies.

“I-if Angelo asks where I’ve been, just tell him I went to Alyssa’s cause I wasn’t feeling well.”

“He never asks where you’ve been.” Bertie replies. “But I got your back.”

“Thanks, man.”

When we reach to Alyssa’s, I have wiped off my pathetic tears and dabbed some powder on my cheeks with the ever present cushion compact in my purse.

“Do you want me to get the dogs to you?” Bertie asks when I get out from the car, slinging my purse over my shoulder.

“That would be nice.” I replied, fumbling with the clasp on the Prada. “Can you also tell Angelo that I’ll be here for the night? I just don’t want to be-”

“I will let the boss know.” He replies with a nod.

I wave him a bye before making my way through the walkway into the house.

I ring the bell letting the residents know the arrival of a visitor as I stand there, knowing this is the only place I’ll probably feel better.

The door opens. But instead of Alyssa it is Lorenzo, immaculately dressed in an expensive suit, holding the door open.

“Hey.” He stepped back muttering his greeting. “Come on in. Alyssa’s in the shower.”

I do. Closing the door behind me, I follow Lorenzo to the sitting area where he had discarded the morning paper prior opening the door.

“Is everything alright?” Lorenzo asks taking a seat across from me. “Have you been crying?”

“Everything is fine, signore.” I reply. “I was just missing Alyssa.”

“Alright.” He says but he doesn’t buy my excuse. Nevertheless going back to his news paper.

I sit there fumbling with the clasp of my purse, the white material cool under my fingers.

“Lorenzo, I’m ready-” I hear Alyssa’s voice accompanied by the click of her red bottoms.

“Sweetheart.” Lorenzo stands up walking toward the woman who was dressed for the day. A navy blazer accompanying her matched pants and black blouse underneath.

“Ariel!” She gasps spotting me immediately as I stand up, following Lorenzo.

“Sweets, you never called.” She complains walking toward me, clasping both my hands in hers. “Oh, honey, have you been crying? When did you get back? And why didn’t you call, honey?”

“Just last night.” I reply but embrace her immediately. I can tell that my actions take her by surprise but she wraps her arms around me, wrapping me up in her motherly warmth and care.

“What is it, love?” She asks running her hand through my hair as the other rubs my back.

“Nothing.” I reply. “I just wanted to see you.”

“Awe.” She coes when I pull away from her. “This calls for a slip out from office.” She declares.

“I wouldn’t want you- I should’ve just called, I didn’t-”

“Shh.” She cupped my cheeks. “Shh. You need not to call me before making your way to this house.”

I hug her again, Alyssa hugs me back, rocking me back and forth, soothing a hand over my back.

“Lorenzo?” Alyssa calls releasing me from the hug and walking toward her husband telling him to continue the day without her.

I had never been to Alyssa’s bedroom before. But much to my surprise that’s where she pulls me the first place after crossing a flight of staircase leading up to the second floor.

“I was begging to God in the shower, Ariel.” She said pulling me toward an open door, leading to her walk-in closet. “I’m not a fan of conjoined meetings.” She says, undoing her earrings. “Not when it involves family drama, no. It’s just ends in a mess.”

I nodded taking a seat in the small sitting arrangement in the middle of her closet.

“Especially when my son has a temper the size of a bacteria-” She scoffs. “I’d rather the men handle it and leave me out. I’m too old for this drama-” She turns to face me, she blazer shrugged off and she’s holding a Japanese silk robe in her hand.

“What’s wrong honey?” Alyssa asks her voice soft and gentle.

“Nothing.” I shake my head, offering her a smile.

“Sweetheart, you look absolutely shaken up.” The older woman registers. “Are you sure that you don’t need to talk about whatever.”

“Mmhmm.” I nod. “Positive.”

“Okay, hon.” She smiles turning. “Gimme a second, let me just change real quick.”

“Sure.” I reply and curl up on the chair, resting my head on the low backrest. Behind me was a low raised chest of drawers, decorated with a small fishbowl full of plastic flowers, colorful and classy to their appearance, keeping the vibe of the house alive. With the flower bowl a number of framed pictures lined the top of the wardrobe.

Most of them baby and toddler pictures of Angelo, hers and Lorenzo. One was two toddlers hugging each other by the neck grinning at the camera, half of their teeth missing.

Alyssa also had a photo of hers and Donna Coralyn’s. Both sitting on a picnic blanket, under a tree, heavily pregnant.

Cute.

“Like them?” Alyssa asked coming into view, dressed in a silver ankle length robe.

“These are memory capturing.” I replied.

“Hmm.” She agrees. “They are. I have too many pictures to frame them. Lorenzo often makes fun of me for the amount of pictures I have and I take.”

“But none of yours?” I asked. “You only have one here.” I pointed the at the only picture of hers sharing the frame with Coralyn.

“Not photogenic.” She mumbles taking a seat beside me. “I like to click my treasures.”

“These are beautiful.” I agree.

“Do you want to see more?” She asks placing her palms on her knees. “Come.”

I follow the woman out of the closet to a room adjacent to the master bedroom. It was an office space, equally rustic like the rest of the house. A desk rested in the middle of the room, the wall behind the desk was a top to bottom book shelf. The right wall was a panel of floor to ceiling window, the left wall was lined with photos.

Big and small frame tastefully arranged.

“Come.” Alyssa said as we entered the room. “This is my office. Or a joke.”

“A joke?” I ask raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t work here.” Alyssa shrugs. “Come on, now!”

I follow her to the wall décor she had made. Numerous pictures of the people of the family. One particular big one occupying the centre. With an amount of people I had no idea about. And then she points out every little of those framed pictures to me.

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

it’s been a while. Life is really tough and tight right now. And I’m desperately trying to get back to it as much as I can. Thank you for those who have stuck around and reached out to know if I was okay. I’m okay, just enough stressed to be writing right now.

But anyway let me know if y’all liked it. It seems distraught to me. But that’s the best I can do right now.

November.

PS: it’ll mean a whole bunch if y’all check out PSYCHOTHERAPIST on my profile? It’s a new book I am working on.

52

Angelo Giovanni knew me. He knew my body. And quite recently had, had started to learn my heart. Yes. I could say that he had already mastered some part of it. How?

Because sitting across from me, the man knew something was wrong. And so had knew that something wasn’t in it’s regular course the minute he stepped into the house. A bunch of freshly bloomed sunflower in hand. As much as I tried to hold my tears at bay from his sweet gesture. I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop my tears from falling.

With arms around me, the man silently rubbed his palms up and down my shoulders in a soothing touch. It melted me. My head rested on his chest, inhlaing his spicy colgone. A scent that has been my permanent source of comfort for quite a while now.

“Would you pour me some wine, tadpole?” Angelo asked his eyes raising to mine. But mine had been fixed on the plate of spaghetti I had made for dinner.

After so childeshy running to Alyssa’s I ended up coming home just by sunset and making dinner. Angelo upon his return home found me in the kitchen fussing with the store bought meatballs, trying to get them to go with the pasta.

“Sure.” I whispered pushing myself up from the chair and walking over to the kitchen where the bottle of Chardonnay sat, slowly coming to more of a room temperature. I hadn’t taken it out before as a result the wine was a little on the cooler side of the scale.

Bringing the bottle to the table, I poured him a generous amount before returning to my seat. Taking a sip from his now filled wine glass, Angelo regarded me with calculating eyes.

“Mama Cora said she saw you at the esate today.” Angelo says, twirling the pasta on his fork before taking a bite. “You seemed distraught.”

My silence answered him. As much I didn’t want to talk o Angelo about it, I knew he would get to know that I had visited the estate today.

“Is everything okay, sweetheart?” He asked, his voice gentle and soothing go my ears. Almost as if his word’s were trying to caress the agony out of my heart. However it wasn’t as easy.

“Mm-hm.” I replied. “Just peachy.”

“Did you see your friend?” He asked. His eyes still that of the one of an interogator but voice melting me like warm butter. Closing my eyes, I realised a shaky breath. A slight hint of smile playing on my face. Lies.

“I did.” I replied, feigning a smile for the man sitting across from me. The last thing he needs is to get cought up between the issues of Blaire and I. It won’t be fair.

Neither for him or Roman. I wouldn’t want anything to wedge it’s way between the brothers. Worrying him with the chaos Blaire has set up on herself and me won’t be reasonable. “I did. It was okay.”

“You’ve never been good at lying, tadpole.” Angelo says. “The smile you put on trying to hide your lies doesn’t flush your cheeks.”

Of course, Angelo saw right through me. I sighed. “It’s- it’s nothing Angelo.”

“You say so. Your eyes are trying too hard to hold back the tears from spilling.” He says. “Do you not want to tell me?”

“It’s nothing.” I reassure him. “It’s absolutely nothing that a hug won’t solve, Angelo. You’re worrying youself-”

“Do you not realise that this had been going around for a while now?”

“Honey.” I breathe. “Listen- I don’t deny you but Blaire- she’s- she’s been through pains herself. Nothing justified her action, I know. But what she needs is love and care and attention. So what if she yelled at me a little? Friends fight Angelo. It’s not a big deal.”

“So you agree she yelled at you?”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what it?” Angelo asks. “What’s the point, tadpole? She can yell at you. Degrade you. Defame you and all she needs is some love, care and attention? Is that what you’re implying?”

“Yes.” I reply. “That’s what she needs-”

“And do you suppose you should tell Roman so she gets off her anger on you once again?” Angelo snaps, abruptly standing up from the chair he was occupying. “Because that has happened twice this time considering, hasn’t it?”

“Angel.” I sigh. “I-”

“Stop helping who doesn’t want your help, Ariel.” He said. Voice strong and calculated. Eyes showing fury beyond measure. “Stop thinking well for people who doesn’t want to be cared for.”

Well that’s the point isn’t it? We aren’t really caring for her enough! I want to say.

“It’s not that-” I sigh. “Blaire has a different way of showing emotions than most other people. Everybody shows emotion differently. It’s okay. Blaire just needs to know that I care for her. I understand telling Roman to take her out was a stupid thing to do but- but- I didn’t mean it to come out as a favour-”

“Don’t push it, tadpole.” Angelo breathed. “Don’t push it. Let it be.”

“Don’t be mad-”

“I’m not mad, sweetheart.” He says raking a hand through his hair. Pushing the silky overgrown strands back with a failed attempt. “I’m not mad.”

“I hate arguing.” I mumble getting up from my chair, taking steps to stand in front of the taller man. Dressed in a gun metal grey suit today with a crisp white shirt, Angelo had lost the jacket already. “I really hate arguing with you.”

“I know baby.” He sighs placing his hands in my shoulder gently. “I know. I’m sorry. I won’t wedge between you and Blaire.”

“Thank you.” I whispered.

He offered me a barely there smile. “Come. Let me feed you. You’ve barely ate.”

Nodding at his words, I perched myself on his thigh while Angelo put morsels of spaghetti in my mouth, occasionally feeding himself in silence.

“I  went to your Mama’s.” I mumbled out after a pause of silence between the pair of us.

“Sí.” Angelo said. “I know.”

Humming, I played with the watch he sported on his wrist while I ate from his fork.

“Would you mind paying Mama Cora a visit tomorrow so she isn’t distraught thinking you are mad at her for some preternatural reasons? Mama Cora seems to think she did something wrong.”

“She didn’t do anything wrong.” I whisper. “I was hurt and didn’t want her to see me crying.” Mostly, I didn’t want to it Blaire in a position that made her more distraught than she was already.

Rest of the dinner goes quietly. Angelo and I take a shower quickly before going to bed. While the silks caress my nude skin, I feel the man slip into the covers behind me. His arm thrown over my stomach. The usual yet sweet gesture makes me smile as I tangle my fingers through his.

However our moment of utter comfort is short lived as my phone rings rather loudly from the bedside table where it was plugged on to the charger.

“Hello.” I received the incoming call that had pulled me out of my half sleeping daze.

“Hey.” Blaire’s cool voice sounded from the other end. Glancing at the analogue clock in the bedside table I made out the time go be half past eleven. Unusual.

“Hey.” I replied sitting up straight on the bed. The olive coloured silks sheets pooled around my waist leaving me bare from the top to waist.

“A-are you busy?”

“Not really.” I replied picking up a lint from the duvet that didn’t really exit. “What’s up?”

Blaire stays silent for a while before I hear the woman sigh. “I’m sorry you know?”

Oh?

“I do.” I reply. Still focused on finding a loose thread on my duvet.

“I really am.” She whispers. “What I said, I didn’t mean any of those. Especially about the baby. I’m sorry.”

I detested how she brought the baby up given that she knew that I didn’t like to go there everyday. And when I did, I left me a mess. No matter what, her words that circled around the baby had wound me deeply.

But then again, the only reason she would miam me is because she herself is as hurt as she tried to hurt me.

“I wish you would just tell me what you feel without being so harsh you know?” I whisper back.

Silence.

“Not everybody who shows concern is pitying you. Sometimes they do it because they love you, Blaire.”

Silence.

“I never meant to pity you.” I whisper.

“I know.” She whispers back. “You’d never do that, bubbles. I’m a fuck head sometimes-”

“Shush.” I urge. “I understand where you have been coming from. And your outburst is justified. It’s okay.”

“It’s not, bubbles.” She sighs. “You can’t forgive me everytime I yell and defame you. When will you stand up to yourself? Why don’t you yell back at me?”

“Because I love you so much, Blaire.” I reply. “You’re my rock. However a little crazy but that’s okay.”

Blaire chuckles, but there is a painful edge to her voice. “I love you so much, bubbles.”

“Me too.” I reply.

“Hmm.” The woman on the other side hums. “I probably woke you up from your sleep didn’t I?”

“Nope.” I lie. “Not really. Angelo’s out cold though.”

“Can’t relate.” Blaire sighs. “I am at mama Coralyn’s. I can’t sleep.”

“You’re at mama Cora’s?” I ask. A smile playing on my lips. At least she’s letting someone in.

“Yeah.” Blaire replies. “I can’t really stand being close to Roman.”

“No?” I ask frowning. I wonder if my request to Roman had pushed them away? Is it because of me, her and Roman are in this state of their relationship? “Is it because-”

“No.” Blaire replied at once. “No. No. It’s not because of the Florence situation. Not at all-”

“Then is everything alright?” Why do I not believe her?

“Yes.” She sighs. “And no. I can’t figure it out.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean- I’m confused.”

“Of-”

“What are we doing, bubbles?” She sighs. “Messing around? Fucking? Playing home? It’s confusing. I need time away from him to think.”

“Do you think you-” Do you think you’re in love with Roman?

“God no, Bubbles!” She whisper yells. “No.”

Sure. Whatever you say, woman.

“I didn’t even finish.” I say examining my finger nails. They need a good filing is what they need. “You didn’t even let me finish-”

“You didn’t need to.” She sighs. “I know you a little too well.”

“Oh, well-” I shrug my shoulders. “I suppose. I’m going to mama Cora’s in the morning. I’ll make her some muffins. I think.”

“She likes the one with a chocolate filling.” Blaire mutters.

“Me too.” I add. “I’ll make her some of those-”

“Bring her flowers too.” She adds.

“Okay.” I smile. “I will. Angelo brought me sunflowers today.”

“He did?” Blaire gasps. “Damn devil-o be stepping up his game, huh?”

“Mm-hm.” I nod. “Sunflowers.” I add again.

“Cute.” She muses. “He really fancies you, you know?” She adds.

“Shush.” I say. “What do I bring you, Blaire bear?” Changing the topic I ask. “Cupcakes?”

“Just cake. The one you make with thick melted choco on top of the cake? That one?”

“Okay.” I smile, pulling my lip between my teeth. “I will.”

“Okay.”

I talk to Blaire for four more minutes before she says she wants to try to get some sleep. I don’t deny her the usual share of sleep. As I place my phone on the bedside table hoping to go back to sleep that I woke up from.

“Quindi, ti sono piaciuti i fiori?” Angelo asks. His voice low and sleep stained. I

had successfully woken him up.

(So, did you like the flowers?)

“Sí.” I replied feeling his warm breath on my naked shoulders. His right hand slowly creeping up to me. Spreading warmth along my exposed skin with feather like touch.

“Molto. Grazie.” I whisper.

(Very much. Thank you.)

Placing a gentle yet lingering kiss on my shoulder, I feel him part my thighs with a gentle push of his long fingers. “So ready, baby.” Angelo hums his lips so close to my ears and one hand around my stomach, the other parting my folds, feeling my slick wet heat. My head rolls back, resting on his shoulder as I stare up at the semi reflective ceiling of our bedroom.

“Mi sento come se dovessi mostrarti quanto sono felice che ti siano piaciuti i miei fiori, dolcezza. “ Angelo breathes against my shoulder. I feel one long finger pride me. Entering my heat.

(I feel like I should show you how glad I am that you liked my flowers, my sweet.)

“Sí, signore.” I whisper out as I curls the digit, caressing the most sensitive part of me.

“Feels good, baby?” The man asks in a humming tone. Gentle yet so full of carnal need.

“Yes.” I breathe. His finger leaves me empty before sliding inside my heat again. “Feels good, Angelo.”

“Does it, baby?” He chuckles darkly.

“It feels so good, yes.” I gasp as he adds one more finger to his slow slow torment. “It feels good, Angelo- oh~”

Chuckling with mirth, Angelo places yet another lingering wet kiss on my shoulder as I take in three of his fingers. Greedy for more of him. “Fuck-” I cuss out as the gentle pumping of his fingers continues, hips raising up from the bed, squirming against his ministration hoping for some sweet sweet release.

“Uh-huh, not so soon, tadpole.” Angelo warns abruptly pulling his fingers away from me. I give out a whine of protest for being denied my orgasm.

“Angelo-”

“Shh.” he cooes, turning me to face him. Both of his hands around my waist as he sits me astride him. “Ride me, baby.”

I was game to comply. With flushed cheeks and glazed over eyes, I sunk back down on his hardend girth as he lay back on the pillow. Eyes boring into each other’s, I take him inside me.

“Fuck baby.” Angelo grunted, his nails digging to my bare hips, while my palms slapped on his shoulders holding on, as my hips rose and fell. Leaving his girth bare and engulfing it at the same time.

“You are going to come with me, tadpole.” Angelo groans, as one of his hand leaves my hip, caresses up to cup my breast. “Fuck. So beautiful.”

It was after one a too many rounds later, I lay half on top of Angelo, my thoughts almost broken as I stared silently at him. Eyes threatening to close from utter tiredness while my man gaized up at the ceiling. His hand rythmically caressing my arm.

“What is it that you’re thinking?” I ask, lazily tracing a pattern on his naked chest.

Silence.

“Penny for your thoughts, Capo Bestone?”

Silence.

“Angel?” I huffed.

“Scusi?” Angelo turned his attention to me from the ceiling. “What is it, tadpole?”

(Pardon?)

“Nothing.” I shake my head with a smile lasting back down on his chest. “Let’s go back to sleep, sí.”

“Hmm.” Angelo replied. But I could take a guess that he didn’t even hear me. Because once again he was back staring up at the ceiling blankly.

I wonder what has him so engrossed in thinking. But then again I feel my eyes drop close.

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Well, y’all know what it’s said that something is better than nothing? This chapter is one of those. Something but almost nothing. On the brighter side Blaire and Ariel almost made up.

Yeah. I’ll update next chapter soon. I mean soon yeah. In a day or two. Stay tuned. And please please please vote and comment. Please.

-November.

53

A steady ache burned inside me. Thumping against my heart. Pounding against the walls of my skull. The little voice kept muttering. Do it. Do it, Giovanni. Do it.

I couldn’t. I backed away like a pathetic looser. I couldn’t. One look at her eyes and I backed away. Would she ever accept? Would she ever agree? Even if I can peruse my head that she will agree another question pops out. Why ever would she?

Ariel and I begun at the most wrong side of a relationship ever could. How would she ever accept me for the long run? Would she ever? It bothered me. Not knowing bothered me more than I would like to admit. As much as last night I wanted have this conversation with Ariel after our lascivious actives, I couldn’t help but admire the carefree look on her face. Her posture was so relaxed. So calm. I just couldn’t bring myself to push her into a matter that required enough deep thinking.

I just didn’t want her to think. Afraid what the end answer of her might be.

What if it takes it by dread instead of surprise? It would even cut our time shot. It wasn’t as if I was second guessing Ariel. I was if anything second guessing myself. Would I ever be able to preserve that smile on her face? Would I be ever be able to give her eternity the way she deserves? It would be a debate.

With a cigarette hanging between my fingers, I stared ahead around the property. Summer was almost over. The mornings were slightly cooler however as the noon rolled around, the sun would shine bright like a burning ball.

Ariel still slept on the bed, curled up against a body pillow.  Her yellow cannery bird toy was subjected to burn from the fire. Having no idea where mama Coralyn had bought the toy from, I opted on a body pillow instead. The one she replaced me with more if not often. While Bubbles slept in the calm silence of our bedroom, it gave enough times to myself to study her lovely features. Her pouty mouth and full cheeks. Her closed eyes. She was lost in her own dream world. I want her real world to be like dream.

I wonder how long would I be fortunate enough to enjoy her? My own version of a twisted fairytale before she realizes that any man would bid their sould to the devil just for one taste of hers. That maybe some bloke other than me would be able to provide her the fairy tale she so ardently dreams of in her sleep and wake. I wonder if she realizes what she is worth of to me? Or any man with a functional libido that lays his eyes on her? I wonder she realizes what her worth is? And that any man wouldn’t think twice before bargening with the devil or God or who ever would listen.

It was last night I had to drop my father home for some malfunctioning of his car. The one he refused to replace solely because of being emotionally attached to the vehicle. Given that I didn’t understand the depth of his feeling, I didn’t push around the subject instead gave him a ride. On the way home, the old man had halted me rather forcefully in front of flower vendor insisting he had to get flowers for the woman of the house.

My mother loved peonies. And so the purchase of a dozen of pink-white peonies were made. As much as lovely as his gesture was, I asked him the reason behind anyway. The answer he gave me was rather ratling. He had said, today marked their real thirty second anniversary. However my mama didn’t know (do not ask me how, my father never said) but he did and so he had bought her flowers and scribbled a note while sitting on the passenger seat of my car in a tissue paper.

I never really found myself discussing my parent’s romance with my father or mother but the gesture he shows mama was full of romance. Dad, added that he had already lost thirty years being a pussy. He didn’t want to loose more.

That sentence didn’t shake around in my head until after I had dropped him outside the villa gates. I wonder dad regrets not asking mama to marry her sooner? Because that seems like the only reasonable interpretation of how he could have lost thirty two years with her.

Therefore, after dropping papa off, I took a U turn on the one way road, bought a dozen of bright yellow sunflowers and drove home in silence of my own company. What if I loose thirty two years with Ariel?

What if I loose thirty two year with Ariel living in a fantasy world, pretending she won’t leave? She will opt this living situation, play happy home and be content. Have I ever given her a reason to stay? Forever?

What if waking up tomorrow morning she realizes that she doesn’t want to be here anymore? What if she thinks I have her captive and wants to break free from this spider web? Thinking back I render her wanting to go back to work but never really finding the opertunity to do so. Would she stay like this forever? Caught up in the mess that this lifestyle was? 

Will she want a life where there will be no assurance that I will come back home alive? Does she deserve the agony and pressure- the baggage that comes along with me? In this life men die young. Does Ariel deserve it? And will she agree to stand by me forever where there is an evident danger looming over her head often if not always?

Am I selfish enough to drag into my mess?  The answer to this was yes. I have found myself often recoiling from a lustrous touch after Ariel had given me a taste of her. Long before she started staying with me and waking up on my bed. Even then when there was no hint of commitment looming over our head like a grey cloud, the thirst for Ariel was something I couldn’t quench. Because lord knows I tried that one year when-

“That habit of yours is going to make me cry one of those days.” I heard a sleepy, slightly croaking voice.

Pinching the remains of my burning cigarette on the ashtray, I turned to face the woman who was now awake. Curled up on my side of the bed, watching me intently.

How long has she been up? “How long have you been up?”

“Long enough.” She says. Her voice aquisitory. “Long enough to have you seen polish off four rolls of treasurer.”

My silence gives my woman the queue to go on with her little reprimanding chide. And God how much I love those. “Cigarettes kills you, Angelo. Its harmful. It bothers your lungs.”

“I understand, tadpole.” I sigh turning around to the face scenery before me.

“Do you?” She asks. “I’ll hide them some day if it means to keep you from smoking. It’s going to hurt you, Angelo”

Ariel stays silent for a second before I feel slender arms wrapping around my waist. Her cool fave resting my back. “Seriously Angel. Don’t smoke so much. That too early in the morning.”

“I will keep that in mind.” I reply with a hint of smile playing on my lips. It rather feels warm that she cares about my lungs. That it bothers her so much.

“You showered?” Ariel asks in a whisper. “You smell fresh. Apart from the cigarette that is.”

“Sí.” I answer. “I am to meet Roman for an early breakfast.”

Ariel hums. “I suppose. Would you drop me to mama Cora’s?”

“If you can shower quick enough.” I add. “Sure.”

“It’ll take but fifteen minutes.” She replies. I can almost imagine her pouting glaring at my back. “Do I take that much time to shower?”

“Not always.” I lie. It takes about forty five minutes for this petite lady to groom herself in the shower.

“I know.” She replies placing her cheek back against my back. “I’ll just make it in ten.”

“Sure, tadpole.”

“You better get started on that shower of yours.” I suggest after Ariel refuses to untangle her naked body from mine. A rather raging need developing for her early in the morning. But then again when is it not? My woman was aphrodisiac. One look at her eyes, her lovely mouth. Her voice- and I would be on my knees to worship this beauty that I am fortunate enough to have. To hold. Albeit Lord knows for how long.

“Can’t you skip with Roman?” She whispers in a small voice. “Let’s go back to bed.”

As tempting as her whining request sounded, it was equally important I had a word with my brother. Roman had set a time for breakfast at the VIP restaurant at the village inn. I was to meet the man sharp at nine. Seven fifty around the clock, I was still wrapped around the minx who refused to let me go and invited me to go back to bed. The meeting with Roman was important. Going back to bed with Ariel was a luxury I couldn’t afford right now.

My cock disagreed.

“As tempting you sound and look right now, I unfortunately have to deny you, mia regina.” I say. “It’s important.”

“Okay.” She sighs. “I’ll quickly go shower. Yes?”

“Sí, girino.” (Tadpole) I reply feeling her untangle herself from me. The sweet pressure of her full and heavy tits leaving my body. The lovely warmth of her naked skin is replaced by the trapped air of the bedroom.

Shaking my thoughts away, I push open the windows letting light and air in. Wafting away the scent of the nights, refilling the chambers with fresh scents of pollen drifting from air.

“I should grow some mushrooms.” Ariel says walking into the bedroom good two minutes later. What about the shower? “I saw a youtube video that grew them from toilet paper.”

It was the most arbitrary yet odd thing she had ever said. Given that whatever Ariel does is not really odd. Spontaneous maybe. However I had no idea she had a gardening hobby and certainly not about mushroom harvest.

This woman sometimes was out of my understanding by a far extent. Turning to face Ariel standing in the middle of the bedroom, a towel around her body, I frown. “Mushrooms are sold in shops-”

“I think spawns sold one euro a bag.” She sighs, dropping the towel on the floor before bending to pick the woolen material up. A the while giving my eyes a pep show of her heart shaped ass.

“Why do you want to grow mushrooms?”

The petite woman shrugs walking to the chest of drawers harbouring her lacy scarps. “I just want to. I suppose they taste same but still-”

“Still?” I raise an eyebrow.

Ariel offers me a shrug of her slender shoulders, sporting a pair of of turquoise lace, that leaves just a little of the imagination. “I rarely find something to do. Cleaning and scrubbing gets boring after a while. Dogs are behaved. They don’t even bother me anymore. All they want is Bertie. They’ll come for food every now and then. Maybe a cuddle.”

“Are you manoeuvring your wish to go back to work?” I ask crossing my arms over my chest. Flushed to the cheeks Ariel looks guilty of her hint.

“Not- not really.” She grimaces. “But I am bored nonetheless.”

Pondering her hint, I nod. Walking to the closet, I pick out a suit for the day. Pair it with a white shirt.

“Did I upset you?” Ariel asks walking in to the closet. Her slender hands reach for the shirt I picked out, replacing the garment with another similar one. “That wasn’t ironed.”

“I’m not upset.” I reply. “Why would you conclude that?”

“My want to go back to work seemingly upsets you, Angelo.” She whispers. “And I don’t like staying home all day- it’s-”

“Your wanting to work doesn’t upset me.” I reply. To an extent it doesn’t.

The thought of Ariel passing her talent and passion for ballet to more younger dancer seemingly makes me gratified of her. I fully support her persuading something that she is so passionate about. Yet, the strip dance was arguable. As much as my eyes and my cock loved to see her stripping and doing acrobats suspended from the club’s ceiling. Or dancing with the pole. I hated- loathed even, her doing it for a number of eyes.

Precisely for that reason she wasn’t allowed to do private dances or private strips. At all.

“However the situation right now isn’t safe.” I add, tracing her jaw with my thumb. Soft to the touch, I feel Ariel’s body shiver slightly. “You know it don’t you, baby?”

“Mm-hm.” She agrees closing her eyes. Full lips parting to take breath. My girl looks needy.

Placing a chaste kiss on her irresistible mouth, I tuck the tendrils of escaped hair behind her ear. “Put on your dress, darling. I’m not sure I have enough will power to walk away from your lustrous body, tadpole.”

“Don’t then.” She whimpered opening her needy, baby brown orbs. The ones that reminds me of a doll. “Stay.”

She was testing my limits today. Absolutely trying to diminish them, crumble them only to throw away.

“Sweetheart.” I warn leaning to place a chaste kiss on her mouth once again. “You have to be at mama Cora’s don’t you?”

“Mm.” She pouts. “I have to get her flowers too. I will make her cakes later, I guess.”

Fifteen minutes later, Ariel was ready in a below knee length dress. Her hair tied into a low pony tail and feet clad in strapped sandals. A jute tote in her clutch holding some garden picked flowers.

It took us a ten minute drive to get to mama Coralyn’s small three storied villa. She along with Blaire and my mama sat on the front garden on an old bed sheet, under a shady tangerine tree. An assortment of breakfast in front of them.

“Aren’t you coming inside?” Ariel asks when I open the door for her to get out.

“I’m already late, as it is. “ I say placing a kiss on her pink mouth, making her crinkle up her nose as she wiped away the contaminated gloss from my mouth. “I better leave for the inn.”

“Okay.” She muses. “I’ll see for dinner, sí?”

“Yes, sweetheart.” I agree placing a kiss on her forehead. “Give my mothers a kiss for me, sí?”

“Hm.” She nods.

It was after I had dropped Ariel to mama Cora’s I realized a red little Chevrolet behind me. A little too close. For whatever reason, I didn’t bother with the car as much as I should have.

Going to mama Cora was a different route than the inn. So I had to take change routes at the next turn. While, my conscience focused on the meeting and that I was just late for the scheduled breakfast meeting with Roman, a red Chevrolet zoomed closer from the obvious wrong way. As the car sped toward me, I was forced to take a hard right to avoid the obvious crash.

However, my car skidding off the road to the foot path wasn’t all the driver had in mind. Just as the bastard inside the said vehicle realized that the crash attempt was a bastard fail, the window rolled down as I soon as I fired up my ignition. A gunned hand aimed at me, while the car drove by in bare minimum speed.

With the just a second to save my head and duck down, I heard the shattering sound of a glock firing. My own hand reaching under the seat to retrieve my trusted mK27. The window glass shattered as the unknown attacker emptied the cartridge on my precious car. Jesus . As my outstretched arm aimed at the car, only able to fire twice, the Chevrolet zoomed past me like a gush of wind. Fuck.

Now I know what papa means when he says he doesn’t want to let his car go.

All the six bullets pointed at me had been banged against my precious car. As I fired up my ignition, the clogs of my head working at a painful speed. Who would do such a sloppy job of a highway shootout? I wondered. Who the heck would even dare to shoot me driving through my own streets?

Somebody had a wish of hanging upside down from the basement ceiling. I thought. Otherwise I fail to understand who would someone, dare to point the gun at me and empty bullets- not one but all of six, in my street. Fearlessly facing me. Somebody had a death wish alright.

My thoughts jump to Ariel- she could’ve been sitting in the passenger seat. She was sitting on the passenger seat just a minute before. There would have been no protection. No back up- Ariel was just beside me minutes ago-

A guard met me upon parking before the inn. Taking the keys from from me, he eyed the now bullet tinted car. “Boss?” He asked.

“Get this to the repair, Marley.” I replied, not really in the mood for a conversation. My head a mess with more important matters to my eye into. “I want the cctv footage of the highway for the last thirty minutes. Get Eli in here. ASAP.”

“What happened?” Roman’s impassive voice drawled out. Turning around I found my brother standing behind me. Impeccably dressed in a metal grey suit. Hands inside his pocket. A frown framing his face.

“Angelo, what the fuck happened?” He asked, his voice more sharper and rigid.

“A shootout, boss.” I replied with a sigh pushing both hands through my hair. “Anonymous. At highway turning while I routed toward the inn.”

“Get me the details, Marley.” He said to the man standing behind us, confused himself. It would be a lie to say, I myself wasn’t confused. “ASAP.”

With Roman ahead of me, I followed him to the scheduled breakfast area. My brother had downed two cups of coffee already while waiting. “Are you hurt?” Roman asked taking his seat across from me.

“No.” Replying in negative, I took the only seat across from him. “Not hurt. Rattled, if you will. Ariel was in the car just minutes before before a bastard railed me with bullets.”

“Somebody has a death wish, alright.” The man said in an impassive tone. “I will only be happy to fulfil their last wish.”

“Allow me.” I offered.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Hey, y’all. Like I said, I updated again lmao. Anyway.

Who do you think is the annoymous shooter?

What about Angelo’s thoughts at the beginning?

Let me know.

I know this chapter sounds impassive. It does to me at least lol. I sincerely apologize. I’m not in a great health. Mentally. I’ve been in better places but that’s okay. That’s okay, that’s no excuse. But I promise next chapter will be better. Anyway, vote and comment if you wanna.

November .

54

I came home early that evening.

Not wanting to worry Ariel as soon as she has begun to settle down, I found myself back at the house. Cancelling all the meetings for the day after lunch and calling Roman telling him I will be unavailable for rest of the day.

My brother understood my want and need to be home as soon as possible. I wouldn’t want to worry the woman who shared my bed. And who worried too much about every little thing. However, dismissing me from my duties roman rather crudely reminded me of the shipment leaving the marina tomorrow morning sharp at five.

Ariel wasn’t home when I parked the Maserati on the driveway and entered through the gates.

It’s unusual how the absence of a person for such a short period of time, only some hours can make a home, a house.

It was early evening, the sun was somewhat shining. The bay windows of the living room was open. The usual flower bowl that were refilled every week, empty sitting on the center table. Everything impeccably in place but not really.

Emptiness surrended the house like a blanket of snow as I made my way into master suite. Hoping for a good warm shower.

It was after my twenty minute long shower, standing under the cascading warm water, I walked into the closet to find myself a pair of pajama while calling the village in for dinner and a box of macarons and a box of cannoli.

Ariel loved both the deserts.

My woman did have a sweet tooth. However she seldom acted on it. More so after she stopped dancing professionally.

I know she craves ballet and she wants to go back to the school, I want her to. Her passion for the dance was admirable, yet, the troubling thought kept bothering me in my sleep and awake.

There was just another highway shootout this morning. I had just left Ariel to mama Coralyn’s. The only thought that troubles me greatly is that she was undoubtedly the centre of these unfortunate events. The ones that kept taking place centering her and leaves no clue behind.

The mysterious and unknown reason still surrounding these incidents. The trip to Florence had one motive only. To find out and who are tinkering with these operations. And why.

Why her?

The potential answer lead us back to nowhere. It was all a circle. Rapid and surprising attacks in Ariel had rattled me. The worry was bigger after the house caught fire.

Sighing, I walk into the closet to pick out comfort cloths. Hopeful that dinner will be delivered before Ariel makes it home. And I will have enough time to plate them outside in the garden over a bottle of wine.

The closet was rearranged as well. A part of the suite was almost burned to ashes by the time the fire was stopped and almost everything had to be replaced. The closet was reorganized.

I’m pretty sure that Ariel would be rearranging it the way, it was before as soon as she’s settled down to function enough.

She’s still stuck back into Florence. In beaches with the monster of a little sister that she had.

Pulling out a grey t-shirt, I slipped the material over my head and discarded my towel for a pair of white silk pajama bottoms. I was almost out of the closet when a bright orange box gets my attention.

Unusual. I think with a frown. It was sitting on top of Ariel’s folded cloths. On top of her collection of colorful leggings and yoga pants.

Ariel never lets a box enter the closet. I think. What is this doing here then? Reasonably my conscience concluded that maybe she brought some shoes from Hermés or something.

But that was impossible because Ariel’s credit was low and she wouldn’t accept money from me for luxury purchase. Unless I purchased it for her.

Neither did she have the time to go to a store. And even if she ordered, which she never does there would be no way it would appear in the closet because she wasn’t home today.

It was a Hermés box. However, inside the orange box wasn’t a clutch or a bag. Or a pair of sandals that she wanted to keep new and shiny.

Inside, on top of many of it’s contents, sat a strip of ultrasound. In black and white, the test photograph showed the- the dot of a child that she was carrying. Dated almost one and a half year before.

And under the blue tissue paper that kept all the contents hidden sat a little notebook. Tiny socks. A half crocheted little hat. A pair of shoes. A pair of mittens. Tiny mittens. Two tiny little shirts for a little man. One blue and one yellow.

The blue one said ‘Mama’s boy.’

A chuckle escaped me as I held the little shirt on my palms.

Mama’s boy, huh?

Mama’s boy-

Piqued with curiosity, I fished out the little blue notebook. The entries were in Ariel’s impeccable cursive script. Neither entries were long. Half a page. I skipped to the last. Dated to that wretched night.

Mama’s so sorry, baby.

She had written. The four syllable line almost ink smudged.

The shoe box full of memories held the pregnancy test strip Ariel had taken.

It was all too much. My conscience concluded. Too much to see and take in at this moment. So, I placed the contents just like it was arranged and close the lid to the orange box of memories.

Memories that Ariel had tuckered away. Memories that she didn’t want to let go of. Neither did she want to relive with full life.

Memories that was hidden away in a shoebox, just for her. For her to relive time to time, in secret. In silence.

Memories that she possibly mourned in silence.

The inn delivered before Ariel made home. However, I didn’t set out a dinner table outside in the back. Instead, I plated both our dinner in one plate and carried it outside. Sat myself on a club chair, while Ariel sat between my legs, curled up, as I fed her from my spoon.

“Good?” I asked as she took another forkful of truffle pasta, coated in melted parmesan.

“Hm.” My woman hummed placing her head back on my chest. Her cheeks were flushed and eyes droopy. I could tell she has had a good day so far with the ladies.

The flush on her cheeks said so.

“You’re too quiet.” Ariel muttered raising her head to meet my eyes as I held another forkful of pasta for her to take.

“Am I?” I asked, cracking a hint of smile for her.

“Yes.” She frowns. “Is something the matter?”

“No.” I replied. “Why?”

“You were quiet last night too.” She replied. “Lost somewhere.”

“It’s nothing.” I replied placing our empty plate on the little table beside the chair.

“Work stuff?” She asked. The frown still evident across her forehead. Adorable.

“Sí.” I lie, caressing her frown with my thumb. “Work stuff.”

“I-I don’t believe you.” Bubbles whispered turning away and resting her cheek back on my chest once again. “But okay. If you say so.”

I wrap an arm around her shoulder as she too stares out in the quietness of the night. The dogs by our side. On the grass. Happily taking the night breeze into their furs to cool off from their hectic day.

“Do you think about him?” I ask. My thumb rubbing her shoulder back and forth.

“Who?” Ariel whispers.

Silence.

“The baby.” I whisper, tilting my head behind. Staring up at the darkening sky.

Silence.

“Every day.” Bubbles whispers. An air of shiver passing through her skin as she answers to my question. Inquiry. Whatever. “Everyday.”

“Do you think about him?” She asked. Her eyes still casted away from mine. I understand if she can’t look at me right now.

I would understand if she wouldn’t look at me at all. Never . But yet, she does. She does meet my eyes. Albeit she shifts her gaze whenever she’s hurt or scared but she does meet my eyes.

And for that, I fall for my sweet girl a little more everytime.

“Sometimes.” I whisper back.

“You do?” She asks.

“Hmm.”

“What do you think about?”

“Nothing particular.”

“Do you ever think about how he would look? Like your or me?”

“Definitely like you.” I say giving her shoulders a squeeze. “With your eyes and nose.”

Ariel chuckles. But it’s not one of those happy ones. It’s filled with pain.

Pain that she keeps tucked away in that orange box.

“I bet he would give you grey before you were thirty.” I add with a chuckle. Squeezing her shoulders gently.

Ariel doesn’t respond anymore. Instead, she turns in my arms. Her eyes swirling with tears and emotions that makes my heart stop. It hurts so much to see her this broken.

Yet so strong.

“Sweetheart.” I whisper. “Cry it out, love.”

And so she does. Closing her eyes, Ariel drops the first tear.

The tears that she shed before were tears of anger. These were the tears of her acceptance. Her tears of realization. Her tears of sadness.

“I’m sorry, tadpole.” I whisper cupping the back of her head, placing it gently on my chest while her hand fist my shirt.

She doesn’t sob. She doesn’t yell. Or scream. Or curse. She just silently cries her heart out. While I blink away whatever moisture gathers in my eyes, all the while placing silent kisses on her hair.

“He would have been one in some days.” Ariel whispers in between her tears. “One year old. Our sweet boy, Angelo.”

Closing my eyes, I wrap both my arms around Ariel’s shaking and shivering form.

“He’d be walking and running.” She whimpers. “He would have been such a happy baby-”

“I know.” I whisper. “I know, tadpole. He would have been.”

“I hate myself that he left me before I got to see him.” She cries. “I hate myself that he left me before I could hold him. Kiss him. Tell him how much I loved him and showered him kisses-”

Silence.

“Sometimes- sometimes, I wish- I wish I never went to you that night.” She whispers. “I wish, I would’ve just left. Just left, Angelo. Leaving was one thing I was good at-”

“Sweetheart.” I whisper, pinching her chin to have her look at me. “No, baby-”

“I should’ve left, Angelo.” She repeats. “Should’ve left. If you were to be with me, God would’ve found some way to make it work. He would’ve found ways to bring us together. And our boy- our little boy, he would be alive. He would be alive.”

“Shh.” I wipe away her estranged tears, littering her face like streaks of water falls. “Shh.”

“It hurts.” Ariel. Her face dropping to my chest again as I tightly hold her to my embrace. “It hurts too much, Angelo. It hurts. Make it stop.”

“Make it stop!”

“Shh.” I whisper.

“Make it stop.” She whimpers once again. Her voice coming down to a whisper. “Make it stop.”

Ariel calms down after endless whimpers and whispers. Whispering sweet nothings to her ears while I rock her now almost droopy body gently. With her small whimpers subsiding down, I pick her up after nudging the dogs to to follow me inside where their bed awaits.

“Sweetheart?” I whisper to Ariel as I place her on the bed. Her eyes open, skin a lovely shade of pink-red from crying. “You’re cold.”

“It’s getting cold.” Ariel mumbled the obvious while pulling the duvet to her. Wrapping the somewhat heat generating material around her. “Are you cold?”

“No.” I reply tucking the loose tendrils of hair behind her ear. “Do you want me to get you something? Tea?”

Bubbles shakes her head with half a smile. “I’m good.”

I nod.

“Angel-” Ariel mumbles after some long silent seconds.

“Yes, sweetheart?” I ask. “Do you need anything?”

“Is that why you have been so quiet for since yesterday?” She asks. “You’ve been thinking about-”

“No.” I reply. “No, baby. I-”

“You?”

“It is nothing that should worry you, tadpole.” I say with a smile cupping her cheeks. But then she smiles at me.

If you knew Ariel LaRusso like I knew her, or I claim to know the one tenth of the person she is, you would know that her smile could heal worlds.

Settle venemous wars and make trees bloom flower in winter. She offered me one of her healing smiles. One of those smiles that made my heart beat faster.

“Marry me.” I whisper out.

Her smile falters. Replaced by a frown on her forehead.

“What?” Ariel asks. Her frown deepening.

“Marry me.” I repeat. My voice slightly holding enough power to be heard.

Why is it so hard to mutter out?

I’ve interrogated some pretty messed up cunts in life and yet- yet, my sweet sweet woman makes me tongue tied.

“Marry me, Ariel.” I repeat for the second time.

“Are you- are you okay?” She whispers, placing her small hand on my cheek. “What are you saying-”

“I’m asking you to marry me, tadpole.” I breathe placing a chaste kiss on her heart shaped mouth. God, how I would pawn everything only to have her to myself. Forever .

I know, men such as myself shouldn’t dream of women like Ariel. Men like me should only have the privilege to watch women like her from a distance and wish to be with them. But never really be with them for the sake of our sanity and life. But, fuck it if I want her.

Fuck it, because I can’t stay without her. I need her because a house without her is a barren desert.

“To marry you?” She whispers.

“Marry me.”

A slow smile, half a smile stretches across her mouth while she circles her arms around me. Snuggling her petite body closer to mine. Her face hidden on the crook of my neck.

“Ariel?” I whisper. What’s wrong?

Does she not want to?

Closing my eyes I rub her back gently.

It wouldn’t take the wisest of men to figure out why not. However it would take the most intelligent and wisest of men to figure out why ever would she?

If Ariel was somebody to whom materialistic value held something- anything, I would write a hundred and one reasons why she would say yes. However, I could write hundred and one reasons of why she shouldn’t say yes to me.

But that doesn’t stop me from praying to any God who is willing to listen to me.

“You’re so blunt.” Ariel whispered to my skin after a long silence. “Just like that huh, capo bestone?”

“Sweetheart.” I rub her back. “I’m dying in here.”

“You should.” She sniffles. “God, you’re so unromantic. You talk about the most painful thing that had happened to us and then you ask me to marry you?”

Okay, is it a no? A yes? A maybe? A let me think about it?

“Tadpole, save me.” I plea. “Is it a no?”

Silence.

Silence.

More deafening silence.

“It’s a yes.” She whispers. “You’re so unromantic. So blunt.” She sniffles. “Who asks like that, Angelo? Nobody!”

Closing my eyes, I place the nth kiss on her head. As I soothingly rub her back, my sweet sweet woman gives out a number of sniffles as if ready to cry once again.

Good. Tonight we cry it out. And from tomorrow, there are no tears whatsoever in our lives.

“Shh.” I coo. “My sweet, sweet darling.”

Ariel pulls her face away from the crook of my neck. Her bottom lip quivering as she shakes her head at me.

“You’re so blunt-God Angelo!” She cries hiding her face on my neck once again. I feel her hot breaths coming out in little puffs as she holds on to me, eventually falling asleep.

I stay awake for most of the night. Studying the features of her face. Flushed full cheeks. Her red nose, from all the crying. Parted lips in shallow breathing. Looking like the most beautiful mess ever.

However by the crack of the dawn I find myself up, showered and dressed. With myself behind the wheels of my Maserati, I tell Alberto to double the guards around the house.

Because fuck me, if anything happens to her.

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

I’ll be back for the typos and mistakes later. Tbh, I don’t have energy left to go through another wave of crying from this chapter lol. Also I’ve been sick for a while. Yeah. So there’s that why I’ve been so inactive. I hope y’all are doing so good. Stay safe.

November

55

I woke up with myself being pampered with feather light kisses. As lovely as it felt, I wasn’t quite ready to wake up yet.

And surely that teeny tiny fact of wanting a little more sleep made me mumble out a non-coherent sound of complete annoyance.

“Sweetheart.” I heard Angelo coo from wherever he was, still peppering whatever exposed skin of mine with tingling kisses.

Kisses that shot down tingles all the way down to my toes and rattle around my stomach like pennies.

“It’s time get up, sweetness.” He whispered.

His cold hand on my skin now. Caressing my stomach with his rough knuckles. Softly and oh so sweetly dragging out my absolute and continuous need for him and his touch.

“What time is it?” I whimpered, pulling the slipped off blanket over me once again. Covering my exposed shoulders from the early morning chill of the changing weather.

I really don’t want to get sick right now. I vow to stay in bed until the weather warms up a little.

“Nine.” Angelo replies placing yet another open mouthed kiss on my shoulder. “Late enough?”

“It’s cold.”

“No, it’s not baby.” He reassures. “It’s not at all cold.”

“It is.” I yawn. “Go back to sleep yourself. And let me be. Please.”

“I leave in fifteen minutes, tadpole.” He sighs. “Breakfast’s on the table. Make sure to eat. Alright?”

“Humph.”

“I’ll see you for dinner.” He says finally and with another kiss pressed against my temple, I feel him loosing his hold on me.

God, how can anyone be so active in such cold? I wondered as I peaked an eye open. Angelo had already rounded the bed. Today dressed in a grey pinstriped two piece suit and was in the process of drawing the blinds over the big windows to block out the cold morning air and sunlight.

With a smile, I snuggled back to the sheets once again as I heard the fain sound of the door shut close.

It was much later, after Angelo had left the house when I woke up and stretched. Eleven on the clock and dogs barking outside the bedroom door made me sigh.

Usually, I don’t sleep so late but then again all the crying last night mixed with the train journey the nights before had me tired out.

Dragging a hand through my messed up hair, I  laid on the bed for a good minute hearing the dogs bark outside the door.

Hoping for them to subside down would be hoping too much.

Knowing that I had to get up. If not for myself but for the hungry fur boys who were pounding on my door while I enjoyed some really good sleep. They were up and they were hungry.

“Coming!” I whined getting down from the bed and skiing my feet in the slippers.

“Lord, I’m coming!” I sighed opening the door for them to step in and yap around me like they have found the fountain of gold.

“You guys are so bad. Why won’t you let mama sleep in for a day, hmm?” I ask picking up Poodle in my arms nuzzling his furry neck. “Such bad bad boys you are.”

Coco whines from the ground where he was almost gritting his teeth to nip Poodle who was already in bigger than him. My little corgi has serious attention wanting issues.

Shaking my head, I put Poods down and patted Coco before walking out of the bedroom. The pair of them trailing behind me. Playful yaps and barks echoing through the house.

“Come get your food!” I called for the little doggies as I placed one full big bowl of breakfast for them and refilled their water.

“Didn’t Bertie feed you breakfast today? No? Poor babies.” I struck my lip out at their big shiny eyes that silently complains about Bertie’s misdemeanor.

After I was sure that Coco and Poodle didn’t need me anymore because they had their share of food, I walked back into the kitchen to get something for my stomach. It was then I noticed the thing- on my finger.

It was- well- unexpected.

Blinking in confusion I brought my left hand closer to my face. The heavy sunlight coming though the open windows caught the diamond at the centre casting a number of teeny tiny reflection.

Well .

Sitting in the middle was a very fancy light blue diamond in emerald cut. Surrended by a number of smaller diamonds creating a cluster halo around the centre stone with a band that sported tiny tiny diamonds on two rows.

Oh my God. I gasped taking my hand away and examining the ring all over again.

My God. Tears swelled up in my eyes as I brought my hand closer to me once again, looking the cluster halo surrending stone embellishment that sat proud and loud on my ring finger.

Never did I, in my dreams-

Never did I in my dreams thought about getting engaged in such a way. I realized.

Hell, I never even thought Angelo would ask me to marry him let alone all of a sudden. While we’re both half sleep.

Leave it to capo bestone Giovanni to rewrite my dreams. In the most sweetest way possible, of course.

“My God.” I muttered once again cradling my hand to look down at the ring again.

When did he get that? And how?

How long has he been thinking about it?

How long before had he made the purchase? Before we went to Florence? After we came back from Florence? When he brought me flowers?

Or was it an impromptu proposal?

Rushing toward the bedroom in a frenzy, almost tripping myself to fall on my face twice atleast, I enter the master suite in search of my phone.

“Sweetheart-” I hear his velvet like voice. The voice that turns me into a puddle of mush. “What’s wrong, amore mio?”

“Hi.” I reply, wiping away the leaked tears from my face. “Why did you leave?”

“Darling.” He sighed on the other end. “Why are you crying?”

“Oh Angel.” I sigh. “I don’t know. Maybe, I miss you.  Maybe, I miss the man who asked me to marry him. Maybe, because I saw a ring on my finger. I don’t know you tell me why am I crying?”

Angelo laughs on the other end. He laughs as if I had lost my mind.

Maybe I had.

Because it had to be the most blunt proposal in this history of blunt proposals.

And it was making me emotional because it was so personal and so intimate. It was just perfect and maybe I was dreaming for a little fairy tale grade proposal but whatever right?

Those little ‘marry me’ whispers was the most intimate , the most sweet , the most lovable words that had ever left this man’s mouth and I loved it. And I love him.

“I love you.” I whisper.

“My sweet sweet darling.” He whispers back. “I love you too, baby.”

I sniff, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. “You do?”

“More than anything in this world.” He replies. “I love you sweetheart. Can you try to stop crying, baby?”

“Maybe.” I laugh. “I can try.”

“Alright.” He chuckles. “I did try to wake you up, you know? You wouldn’t have it.”

“You could’ve atleast said that you put a ring in me. I would’ve been awake.” I complain. “At least.”

“Sorry sweetheart.” He chuckles. “Next time?”

“Next time?” I question. “There is a next time?”

“I don’t know baby.” Angelo laughs. “Maybe fifty years later when I want to marry you again?”

“Whatever, Angelo.” I pout. “Get back home soon.”

“Well that depends.” He says. I can almost see him relaxing back to his office chair.

“Depends on what?” I ask with a frown.

“Depends on if my soon to be wife will be cooking me dinner or not” He asks.

Sighing I shake my head. “What would you like, capo bestone?”

“Hmm- I can’t decide right now.” He says after a while of silence. “Maybe I’ll let you know after lunch, sí? I’ll bring wine on my way.”

“Okay.” I bite my lip to hide the smile. “So you’ll be coming back home soon? Earlier than normal?”

“I was home early yesterday.” He points out.

“Yesterday wasn’t really the nicest of evening for us, Angel.” I reply.

He stays silent for a good tem seconds. I wonder if I have sent him back to somewhere he didn’t want to go.

“Are you there?” I ask.

“Sí.” He sighs. “I’m here.”

“I didn’t mean to dampen the mood.” I whisper with a sigh. “Last night was a lot to take in.”

“I know, baby.” He says. “It was a lot to take in for me too.”

“I’m glad we talked.” I whisper. “Even though as little as it was.”

“It was a start, sweetness.” He replies. “We have our whole life to talk. I just don’t want you to cry anymore.”

“I’m not going to cry anymore.” I’m pretty sure I am crying right now

“I’m not going to let you cry anymore, my sweet.”

I smile looking ahead. The scenery of the olive groove was just breathtaking from our house.

And I loved every second of staring ahead into the bushy greenery that laid ahead of me, like a blanket of evergreen thread.

“I should probably let you get back to work.” I sigh. “Get back home-”

“Ariel?” Angelo asks.

“Hmm?”

“Do you like the ring?”

“I love the ring Angelo.” I whisper back. “I love it and I love you.”

“I love you, baby.”

His words bring a flush to my cheeks as I once again bite the corner of my bottom lip. “I love you back.”

“Alright.” He laughs. “Me too. I’ll see you for dinner, sí?”

“Let me know what you want.” I add before ending the call.

“I will, my love.” He whispers. “I will.”

“Okay.”

As soon as I end the call, I hear commotion downstairs.

With the dogs inside the house and around the kitchen, the series of noise makes me frown. So I quickly make a bee line across the room and down the stairs.

“I made myself home.” Blaire mused sheepishly poking her head out the from kitchen door making me heave a sigh of relief. “There was food on the counter. I popped it in the oven and polished off the toasts, by the way.”

“Oh.” I frown walking into the kitchen where she had my half finished breakfast plate in front of her and was feasting on from the stack of mini sausage.

“Where were you anyway?” She asks stabbing into a weiner and putting it in her mouth. “I knocked for like five minutes and then let myself in.”

“You- you what?” I ask perplexed.

Let herself in? Surely the doors were locked?

Angelo always locks the door before he leaves in the morning when I am still sleeping. Today was no different.

“I may have poked around the lock a little.” She grins a sheepish grin yet again and goes back to eating my food. “Okay maybe broke your lock-”

“Oh-okay.” I blink. “Okay, babe.”

“Yeah.” She grimaces. “Why wouldn’t you open the damn door?”

“I- I was upstairs.” I shake my head. “Never mind that. Did you really break the lock or something?”

“Nah.” She shakes her head. “I used a hairpin. It was hella tricky. Why do y’all have three locks?”

With a sigh, I plant my palm on my forehead. Blaire had rendered me speechless. Utterly and totally speechless.

“What is that?” She asked. A frown forming on her face as she squinted at me.

“What is what?” I ask as she rips my hand away from my forehead and examines it like I have ten fingers instead of five.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She shrieks. “You’re getting married?”

“I-no.” I say with a frown pulling my hand back from her vice like grip. “No.”

“Yes you are!” She accuses. “Look at the size of that thing-”

“I’m engaged.” I clarified. “I’m not getting married. Well not in the next hour like you’re suggesting with that excited tone-”

“You’re half way there.” She waves me off. “Who gives a fuck? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Blaire.” I grimace. “It happened-”

“In Florence?” She frowns. “Oh My God, you got engaged in Florence? When? How? Why didn’t you tell me? Ariel-”

“I got engaged in my bed, woman.” I shake my head clearing off the empty plate that was my breakfast. “Half asleep. Last night.”

“Ooh.” Blaire grimaces. Unimpressed. “Oh, well then-”

“Hmm.” I smile.

“Show me it again.” Blaire rushes to me grabbing my hand again and staring at the ring with dreamy eyes. “Look at that bling, woman. It looks so good.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” I agree with a smile.

“Very uh- romantic and fairytale -ish not so much ’bout the proposal eh?” She scrunched up her nose shaking her head.

I laugh.

“So, what’s for lunch?” Blaire asks changing the topic. “I’m staying, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t.” I beam. “Lunch can be whatever you want.”

“God, I want pizza so bad.” She threw her head back. “Can we order in pizza please? The Sicilian pepperoni delicacy? Please?”

“Sure.” I chirp.

“I’m letting you know that I don’t have money.” She muttered scrolling through her phone. “But I have their number though.”

“That’s okay.” I reply.

By late evening Blaire was lounging in the living room with the dogs whom I had just bathed.

I had also very quickly texted Angelo that Blaire was here and maybe dinner and wine wasn’t happening. I wouldn’t want her to feel out so maybe a date night isn’t okay right now. However and dinner and wine was still on the schedule.

I planned to fatten my friend up. Since she had after so long shown me a little glimpse of the woman she used to be.

The Blaire she used to be. Not the scared one. The feiry and mad woman that she was.

“I’ve put blankets in your room.” I announced walking back into the living room wiping my hands in a towel after I had sucesfully tidied up the guest room for her with enough blankets. “And turned on the towel warmer.”

“Thanks.” She mumbles from where she was laying in the couch. TV playing on mute and Coco on her stomach. Freshly bathed.

As I looked at her form, I couldn’t help but wonder what happened to the Blaire I saw at the club months before. She had changed so much.

She used to be confident. Brave. So very brave but now she seems to hide from her own reflection and lie to her own voice.

It pains me deeply to see her this way. But everytime I feel that she will open up to me, she goes back right into that cage she locks herself in.

I understand space and time is what she needs.

I just hope she doesn’t take too much space that she finds herself utterly lonely and isolated from everybody around her.

“Blaire, do you feel alright?” I ask walking up to my friend as I take a seat across from her.

“Yeah. Why?” She asks. Her attention still plastered to the muted tv. Suburra playing wordlessly as she watches the series with utter attention.

“You sound a bit off.” I said. “Do you have a cold? A fever?” I ask.

I knew she had neither. I just wanted to talk to her. Have her vent a little so she can atleast feel normal. Normal enough to not watch this drama series playing in Italian on mute.

“No.” She replies. “You need to get Netflix though.”

“I don’t watch TV.” I shake my head. “Shall I make you a cup of tea? Herbal?”

“Nope.” She says turning her head to look at me. “Do I sound that sick to you?”

I nod. “You do.”

“Yeah.” She shrugs her shoulders. “Well-”

“Maybe you should nap a little?” I ask tentatively. “You know what, let me get you that cup of tea so you can get some sleep.”

“I don’t want to sleep right now, Bubbles.” Blaire sighs.

“I’m still going to make you a cup of chamomile tea.” I say ignoring her whiney tone, getting up and rounding toward her to place a kiss on her head.

“I’ll even let you have a couple of cannolis from last night because you look a little off to me.”

“Yay me.” Blaire mutters as I make my way to the kitchen.

What happened to the headstrong, beautiful, defying, maddening woman who was my bestest of friends? The woman who was ready to fight the world for me? I think as I peer back to her laying form.

She just looks so sad and gloomy. I sigh, placing the pan of water on the stove to stir a cup of tea for Blaire.

My phone ringing makes me dart my eyes to the counter where it laid unattended.

“Hey.” I grinned as I answered Angelo’s incoming call.

“Baby.” He breathes.

“Hi.” I flush. “How is your day going so far?”

“Fantastic.” He muses in a tone that makes me giggle. “As fantastic as it can go without seeing your face, my sweet.”

Capo Bestone Giovanni being sarcastic.

“Flattery. Flattery.” I tease. “Do you miss me, Capo bestone?”

“Very much.” He sighs.

“Me too.” I pout. “I can’t wait for you to get home.”

“I can’t wait to get home.” He sighs.

“Well, then hurry up!” I chuckle. “I’ll put on your favourite dress too.”

“Would you now?” He asks.

“Hmm.” I reply biting the corner of my lip. “Maybe in the bedroom. Blaire is staying over.”

Angelo sighs on the other end. “She is, isn’t she?”

“Hmm.”

“I had plans for tonight.” Angelo sighs once again.

I giggle.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Double updates today. Yey me? Yep. Lol. Anyway. This is not edited. I’ll be back to edit it. But the again please y’all leave some feedback. Help this book grow so we don’t end with a low not. Okay? Feedbacks and votes helps every piece to grow. And thank you for reading!!!

I’m also supposedly feeling better today. Yay?

Let me know your thoughts on this chapter.

-November.

Ps. Next chapter is from Blaire’s pov. So if y’all can get this chapter to a 100+ comments. I’ll update early tomorrow instead of being lazy.

56

Coming over to Ariel’s might have been the best thing to do.

Well it might have been the best thing I did in a long ass time. If not Ariel’s it would mean going back to Roman’s lair.

Trust me when I say, staying with Roman isn’t something I would like to do right now. Well, I would rather not face him at all. Not in this life atleast.

Well whatever right? I wasn’t proud of what I did.  But mostly I wasn’t really ready to explain it to Roman.

I didn’t want to come across petty or needy. Because I wasn’t. Right? Right?

I wasn’t. I need no man. Especially I didn’t need Roman.

Laying in Ariel’s couch with some weird show playing on the TV I played with Coco’s fur who was asleep on my stomach.

Poods was on the floor, in his bed, watching TV, wide eyed. While I lounged about Ariel’s house she was busy in the kitchen doing whatever she does.

Come to think of it. I wonder. Ariel was engaged.

Bubbles- my Bubbles who flipped off devil-o in the early days was engaged to the same devil-o. I wonder if she is pregnant.

Because if not, why would she sport a fat solitaire like that? That too all so sudden.

Without a party or a celebration. I mean. There’s always an engagement party, isn’t there?

And Devil-o doesn’t seem like the person who doesn’t love to stroke his lion sized ego.

Showing off Bubbles is what he likes to do.

But then again, I would love to show off Bubbles if she were shagging me too. With a snort I focus back on TV.

“Did you finish your tea?” I hear my best friend call. “I won’t warm it up for second time, Blaire.”

“I did.” I lie while picking up the cup of chamomile tea or whatever and gulping the cold shit in one go.

There. She can stop nagging now.

“Okay.” She sing songs from the kitchen making me sigh. I really like Ariel when she isn’t playing mum.

Sometimes, I don’t like her at all because all she does is plays mum. I mean, I like that she cares about me but sometimes she’s just-

Yeah. Too responsible about every little thing.

I see the front door open and Devil-o walk in. Today he was dressed in a pinstripe suit. In grey. And sucesfully ignored my presence as he stepped though the doors and directly walked into the kitchen. His hand clasped around a bouquet of Paris red roses.

Well then.

Who knew Devil-o was a little old romantic?

I heard a low shriek coming from the kitchen followed by a series of giggles and then possible smooching noises.

Maybe I imagined the smooching noises. But they were groping in there alright.

If you knew Ariel and Angelo as I did, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

I mean- yeah, y’all know what I mean. Going at each other like bunnies and all.

My course of thought reminded me of the pair of bunnies I spotted in Coralyn’s garden. Going at it.

Her garden was immaculately fairytale-ish. And she had bunnies. A number of them. Two of which I spotted one afternoon of being especially lonely and sad to myself.

Yeah. Even rabbits were playing poke and prod. It was just poor old Blaire going through a dry spell. A draught, if you will.

Around me all I had was the happy happy couple’s of the decade. Coralyn- she was still at honeymoon phase with her husband of thirty years. Alyssa was madly in love with Lorenzo like they were eighteen.

And don’t even get me started about Ariel. She was actually in her honeymoon phase being newly engaged and what not.

Not that it all bothered me but I lacked single friends.

Friends who weren’t so deep into relationships and marriages. Friends with whom I can bitch about everything.

Vent about anything without feeling like I was accusing them. Or being an entitled bitch.

Ariel and I, ableit best friends, were so different from each other. While all she ever wanted was a little family of her own, a little home to play house mother, my dreams were to make something out of myself.

Something- something that would make me proud. Not that I judged Ariel for having a dream like hers but I couldn’t actually relate to her because I didn’t really think the way she did.

And whenever she got a glimpse of her dream being so close to be fulfilled, I felt like a failure because I was nowhere near to be feeling proud of myself. I was still there, where I was two months ago.

Eating and getting fat.

I didn’t know how to place point this emotion that I was feeling. It came and went. Like a wave of rather humid breeze. It bothered me all way too much.

Angrily wiping away the tears that had leaked my eyes, I focused back on the television screen.

“Blaire-bear?” Ariel singsoned walking out of the kitchen with a skip to her steps. “Do you want truffles?”

“No.” I reply in monotone. “I don’t like truffles.”

“Dark chocolate?” She asks showing me the tray of an over fancy chocolate box. “Have some. You’ll feel better babe.”

“I don’t like chocolate, Bubbles.” I sighed. It was a lie. Because I loved chocolates.

I loved fancy chocolates even more but these were probably brought for her by her new fiance.

I wouldn’t feel very comfortable in taking one little truffle ball from her box. It would be weird.

“Awe, I don’t mind.” Ariel pouted. “Go on. Take some. A couple. I don’t eat chocolate. I’m trying to loose weight.”

“You’re a terrible liar.” I mumbled looking up at Ariel’s smiling face.

Her made up smile faltered as she took a seat on the couch across from me. Followed by a sigh she opened her mouth. Probably for some why nots and what’s wrong.

“Don’t.” I warned focusing back on to the show whose episode was over and another was about to start.

“Blaire.” Ariel sighs. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine, bubbles.” I reply. “Why would anything be wrong?”

How is a person so- selfless? I think. The times I’ve yelled at her and- and cussed at her, cussed at her child whom she had lost in the most painful way- and- and she still has enough empathy left in her to accept my half arsed apology that I offered.

I don’t deserve her.

I don’t know if she has low standards regarding friendship or if she is just too forgiving. Ariel makes my head hurt. Sometimes.

“You sound so gloomy.” She whispers. Her eyes softening. “What’s wrong, babe?”

“Nothing.” I sigh. “I just don’t feel like talking. Okay? I want some alone time.”

“Okay.” She replies. “But let me take care of you too, okay? Have some chocolate. Come on.”

“No.” I grimace. “Don’t give away your presents to your friends, Bubbles.”

“It’s just chocolate.” She shrugs. “I’ll leave some for you, okay?”

She wasn’t taking a no for an answer. “Okay.”

With a smile she leaves the box of assorted chocolates on the centre table and goes back to the kitchen. She had only tasted one of the dark chocolate and had left the rest for me.

God, I’m such a bad friend. With a scowl resting on my face I pluck out the expensive looking chocolate from the assortment box and take a bite.

God bless, Angelo’s deep pockets . I think as the slightly bitter taste exploded in my mouth. And before I knew I had polished off five circular chocolates on my own.

Yeah. So much for disliking chocolates huh? My conscience mutters. I ignored the voice that chose to speak up at the most inappropriate and unwanted time.

Taking the box of chocolate, I walked up to the kitchen before dropping a sleeping Coco on the couch.

Clearing my throat, I entered the cooking arena, where Ariel was stirring something on a pan.

“Hey.” She beamed looking at me. “They’re good, aren’t they?”

“They are.” I give her a smile too. “Saved you some.”

“Awe, thanks.” She stuck out her bottom lip and plucked up a white one taking a bite. “It’s so good.”

I put the container box on the kitchen table where Angelo was working or whatever in his laptop. The dozen of roses already in a jar with water acting as the centre peice of the table.

Maybe he’s watching porn or something.

“What?” He asked when he saw me narrowing my eyes at him.

“You’re creepy.” I stated.

“Pardon?” He frowns. “What is wrong with you?”

“What would be wrong with me?” I scoff.

“Well, clearly there isn’t anything right with you. I just assumed.” He fires back.

“Yeah?” I scowl. “Whatever.”

“Angel-” we hear Ariel’s sweet tone. She gives her fiancé a pursed look that admonishes him silently.

“I am going to take a shower.” Angelo says with a sigh as get vacates the chair he was occupying.

“Yeah, you stink.” I snapped.

Devil-o chose to ignore my comment as he closed his computer, placed a kiss on Ariel’s mouth- for a little too long- and left the scene.

“Why do you both bicker like kids?” Ariel sighs going back to stirring her sauce.

“Can’t stand him.” I huff folding my arms over my chest. “Nothing personal though.”

Ariel laughs. But our conversation is cut short as the doorbell rings.

“I’ll see it.” I offer.

“It’s probably Bertie.” She says. “He takes the dogs out to wherever he goes this time.”

“Okay.” I chirp as I skip to the door and open it.

Yeah? No. Not today boss.

“Open the door Blaire.” Roman says from the other end. His voice has enough calm to let me know that he is royally pissed.

Well. Did I mention that I was supposed to go to the penthouse straight from Coralyn’s? No ? Silly me, then.

“Open the damn door.” He bellows from outside.

Yeah. Not happening.

“Go the fuck away, Roman.” I yell back. “It’s not you place.”

“Enough of you being a child, Blaire.” He warns. “Open the door.”

“Please, leave.” I beg. “Please, Roman. Not today. Please.”

“Open the door.” He says. Not yelling anymore. “Open the door, pup.”

“No.”

“Blaire, who’s outside?” Ariel asks emerging from the kitchen as she sees me standing with my forehead pressed against the door.

“Roman.” I whisper.

Silence.

“Are you not going to let him in?” She asks frowning.

“Nope.” I reply. “Nah.”

“Ok-kay?” She muses. “Why not?”

“I just don’t want to see him.” I lie.

“Okay.” She frowns. “But it’s rude to let him stand outside like that, babe. Let him in and you can go up to your room and not see him.”

“Promise me, you’ll send him back home?” I whisper to my friend. Desperate for some help to hide my embarrassment. My faults that has affected us way too much.

“I-okay.” She sighs. “You don’t have to see him, darling.”

“Okay.” I nod. “I’ll go up to the room.”

“Sure.”

But I don’t go up to the room. I cross the stairs and hide behind the columns that hold the high ceiling as I watch the scene unfold before my eyes.

Yeah. Roman was pissed. And God knows he was going to kill me once he got his hands on me. I was royally screwed.

I saw Ariel step away from the double doors letting the suited man in. He sported a three piece navy blue suit and carried a gift wrapped box.

I saw Ariel smile as Roman said something to her and handed her the gift wrapped item. Not going to deny, it felt a little bad that he hadn’t gotten me a present.

But Ariel was engaged right? It was probably a congratulatory gift. But then again if Roman knew that she and Angelo were getting married before why didn’t I?

Of ourselves Devil-o told him. They’re with each other all day, anyway. Of course he told him.

I saw Ariel give Roman a side hug before leading him to the living area.

“What are you doing?” I heard a voice that made my would jump high in my body.

“Jesus Christ.” I hissed turning to face Angelo. Fresh out of the shower, dressed in a pair of sweat pants and a grey tee.

Angelo looked at me quizzically raising an eyebrow. I gave him a sheepish grin. “I’m snooping.”

“On your friend?” He asks.

His tone of voice made me turn to face him once again.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean, Blaire.” He says as a matter of fact.

“Why would I snoop on Ariel?”

“Why would you?” He asks back.

I frown. “Whatever do you mean? What is wrong with you?”

“This same thing happened when Roman came before, didn’t it? You snooped and then took out whatever aggression you felt toward whoever on Ariel? Or have you forgotten already when you broke a bottle?”

I open my mouth to respond to him. But it doesn’t come. He was saying the truth. I opened and closed my mouth again before sighing.

“You know-” I breathe. “I made a mistake that night-”

“I suppose you made the same mistake four- five times after that.” He added. His large arms were crossed over his chest now. His jaw muscles ticking.

“Look-” I hold up my hand. “Ariel and I-”

But Angelo doesn’t let me finish. He leaves the scene, leaving me at mid-sentence.

Climbing down the stairs to greet his brother. They hug. Angelo kisses Roman in the temple and his stoney expression disappears as both of them takes a seat on the sofa.

I see Angelo retrieve a decanter of whiskey from the cabinet and sit down pouring two glasses of amber liquid, fluently conversing in Italian.

Well. That was scary. So, I end up going to the guest room Ariel had set for me.

After a much needed hot shower and getting dressed in the pajama set that Bubbles kept on the bed, I get under the covers to turn off the lights.

I have lost every ounce of hunger I had left in me after my encounter with Angelo.

I mean, I would’ve thrown a fit at him if he was even slightly wrong. He wasn’t.

Ariel doesn’t need any of my noxiousness right now. She’s had enough. She has tolerated enough of me treating her like garbage-

“Blaire bear?” I hear my friend’s voice outside the door. “Do you want me to get your dinner or do you want to come down?”

“Has Roman left already?” I call out from under the blankets.

Ariel hesitates to answer. “No, hun. He’s-uh downstairs. Talking to Angelo.”

“I- I’ll come down.” I mumble. “Give me a second.”

“Sure, babe.” I hear Ariel’s voice.

Five minutes later, I join the trio in the dining room. Ariel had made stuffed shell pasta with some sides whose names I had no idea about.

“Here.” My friend extends me a plate as I take a seat beside Roman, across from her. For this arrangement I was thankful.

Not because I sat beside the guy whose bed I occasionally warmed but because Ariel was across from me and I didn’t have to see Roman’s face every time I stared ahead.

“Thank you.” I mumbled as I accepted the played dinner from Ariel and picked up my fork to take a bite.

However, dinner at the Giovanni residence was a quiet affair. Albeit palpatable with tension but quiet. I was glad it was silent because if I had to talk, I was sure that I would whimper out crying.

Crying in front of Roman isn’t something I wanted to do.

“What are you doing here, Blaire?” I heard Roman speak up from beside me. His voice low and impassive. As we were only in the company of ourselves with Ariel in the kitchen and Angelo somewhere to get another bottle of wine.

I stayed silent instead of answering him the obvious.

“You cannot keep running about from this place to that just because you’re too much of a coward.” The man seethed.

“Watch me.” I whisper.

“Oh, I’m watching you alright.” He snaps lowly. Taking another sip of his red wine. “I’m definitely watching you.”

“Please, Roman.” I whisper. “I don’t want to talk right now-”

“If it were up to you, you would never talk Blaire.” He says.

He was right.

“I’m sorry alright?” I whisper. “Please don’t talk about it.”

Roman doesn’t respond, but then again I don’t need him to respond. I understand why would he feel repulsed by me right now. Hell, even I feel repulsed by myself right now.

“Why are you here?” He asks again.

“So I don’t have to go back to the penthouse Roman. Even looking at you seems too much.”

“You can have the penthouse. I’ll stay the estate-”

“Roman-”

“Or you can leave for England.”

Out of all the things I hoped he would say, I didn’t hope for this one sentence out of his mouth.

Or you can leave for England.

“The later seems to be in your odds. You get to have your freedom and whatever it is that you have always desired.”

“Roman-” I beg. Literally beg.

“There is nothing left for you to stay here, Blaire.” He concludes. “If you want to leave you’re free to.”

“Do you want me to leave?” I ask. A lump hurting my throat. Tears almost leaking.

“It’s not about what I want.” He says getting up. “It’s about what you want.”

“What about us?”

“You have concluded that before.” He said. “For the both of us.”

“Roman!” I raise my voice, finally looking at him.

“I’m going to say goodnight to Ariel.” He says buttoning up his suit jacket. And after a long time I see utter coldness in his eyes.

Emotionless and empty. 

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Tbh, I expected a little more feedback on the last chapter. This wasn’t how I hoped the comeback updates will get the response. But meh. Here’s Blaire’s pov. This will also be a chapter on Blaire’s book in the near future. And that’s why I have kept away all possible hints that would spoil the plot beforehand. I hope y’all enjoyed.

I’ll be back to fix the errors in this soon.

-November.

57

ARIEL POV

Sleepy sex with Angelo was possibly the best form of sex. Sleepy sex with Angelo while being engaged to him was even more sentimental and erotic.

With dirty sweet nothings whispered to my ears, he made sure to love me and hurt me in the sweetest and best way possible. Thus, too many a rounds and a hot shower later, I followed Angelo into our shared closet.

While he donned a suit, I rummaged around my stuff for a good sports bra and a matching pair of leggings so I could go do some stretching and yoga before actually starting to dance.

If I ever went back, I wanted to be ready for whatever they wanted. I wanted to be prepared just incase I was dancing on the big stages again.

As much as I would put the blame on my parents shoulder every now and then, it was also true that I did find some sort of self satisfaction when I danced in front of thousands of people. And when I finished, I would’ve left them a clapping mess.

I liked it. I liked the feeling of appreciation it brought me and the rush of happiness that ran through my blood after every performance. I wanted to go back now. I wonder if mum keeps in touch with the school I used to dance for.

Even she if did, I doubt they’d let me back into my old position again. I was the face of their school. The prima ballerina, the blinking little star. And then I wasn’t.

“Where are you lost?” Angelo asked coming to stand behind me, as he adjusted his suit jacket. I was still in a towel in front of the mirror, my garments in my grip.

“Nothing.” I grimace. “Just wondering if they’ll have me back.”

“Who?” Angelo asked.

“The school I used to dance for.” I replied. “I doubt it, to be honest.”

“Why ever not, amore mio?” He asked placing a kiss on my shoulder. “And even if they don’t, you always have me to have you-

“You won’t.” I warn knowing well what he was about to suggest.

“I make no promises, tadpole.” He chuckles, his mouth still lingering on my shoulder, arms around my waist.

“You’re never going to make it to work, this way.” I sigh rolling my head to the other side, giving Angelo a better access to pepper me with kisses.

“Try and keep me.” He whispers. “Roman might have my head today. He’s royally pissed.”

“What is up with him, anyway?” I ask leaning my head back to Angelo’s chest. His hands were now creeping up from my waist to cup the mounds of fat on my chest. I hummed in response as my nipples peaked into two hard buds.

I wonder if I ever will be able to resist this man. But then I was fucked the moment I lap danced for him- for some extra cash. Sigh.

“I don’t know.” Angelo replies. “Roman is a very private person.”

I glare at Angelo, tilting my head back to see his face. “Is he?”

“He is.” Angelo sighs straightning up himself.

“If it were someone else, I would’ve believed it without a doubt. But that’s you Angelo. There is nothing private between the pair of you.” I say with a slight roll of my eyes.

Angelo shakes his head. “It’s not my place to tell you, sweetness.” Leaning down he places a kiss on my mouth that makes me sigh. “Ask your friend.”

“But she wouldn’t say anything either.” I sigh. “I am worried about them, Angel. Blaire has isolated herself and Roman is being-”

Angelo raises an eyebrow at me.

“Indifferent.” I whisper, tugging at the end of my towel to let it fall as I quickly put on the grey and blue sports bra and leggings. “Neither of them deserves it-”

“Blaire might leave for England.” Angelo adds. “Roman thinks she needs time for herself. To collect herself and mature over time-”

“Roman shouldn’t be the boss of thinking that.” I frowned. “That’s not fair. He can’t keep deciding for her every time!”

“I said might, tadpole.” Angelo makes a sound of annoyance. “Might. It’s not settled yet. And stop playing devil’s advocate.”

Devil’s advocate? Really?

I scoff. “Are you for real, right now?”

“I am being very much real, Ariel.” He said. His voice loosing the soft, gentle tone he uses with me and replacing by the one he keeps for the professional part of his life.

The Capo Bestone part.

“Would you ever stop siding with Roman and at least, and think about Blaire? For once?” I ask. My voice changing as well.

God, this is not how I imagined our morning to turn out.

“I am not siding with Roman.” Angelo replies with a sigh, buttoning up his suit jacket. “I am telling you what it is. She should go and take time to herself. She’s overwhelmed, she’s sorry? She’s miserable. She needs time.”

“Yeah and you and Roman get decide that for her?” I ask, folding my arms over my chest. “Why doesn’t Roman let her come to him and talk to him? Why not give her the space she needs instead of making up decisions for her?”

“Nobody is making any decisions for her!” Angelo snaps, obviously loosing his patience.

“Doesn’t really seem like it.” I mumble with a roll of my eyes as I tug the towel away from my hair.

I don’t like Angelo right now. Don’t get me wrong, I love him. I love him so very much but at this moment, he’s not my favourite person.

My pink tendrils fall over my shoulders in wet curls.

And the next thing I feel is my back hitting the full length mirror behind and Angelo’s mouth on me. He fervently kisses me. Shutting me up from whatever come back I had prepared in my mind.

Drinking in my gasp of surprise and my hum of approval. His hands travel from my waist to my exposed stomach to my breasts before he gives the mound of fat a squeeze.

I moan into his intense kiss. Lips and tongue. Caressing each other, dancing to their own special song. With his mouth clamped around my bottom lip, Angelo roughly tugs on my flesh. A raw need blossoms inside of me as he pushes himself away.

“More.” I breathe.

“Don’t argue with me, baby.” He rasps. “You know how much I hate it.”

“I didn’t realize we were arguing.” I breathe, still unable to catch my breath. “We were conversing-”

“Were we, baby?” He asks, his knuckles caressing my stomach. Closing my eyes, I sigh.

This man!

“Stop using my weakness to your touch as your armour.” I whispered. Angelo chuckled.

“That’s not a nice thing to do to your soon to be wife, Angelo.” I add. “Also known as manipulation, my love.”

“You’re sweet, amore mio.” He whispers. “I love how your lips quiver, waiting for me to have them.”

God!

Angelo places a chaste kiss on my mouth. Again. Two kisses. I breathe.

“Sweet girl.” He whispers. “I love how your mouth pluckers up wanting more.”

“More.”

Kiss.  “Is that better, tadpole?”

“Yes.” I breathe.

Humming, Angelo moves the wet tendrils of hair behind my ears. “So pretty. Mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

God, he was something else.

“When do you want to get married, amore mio?” He asks in a whisper. Somewhere in the puddle that I was turned into, I find the strength to open my eyes.

“Soon.” I smiled.

“A big fairytale?” He asks moving his hand to run his knuckles down my cheek. “Hmm?”

“No.” Beaming I shake my head. My answer makes Angelo frown. “Just a small one. I don’t care. As long as it’s you and me.”

“It is always, you and me, sweetness.” Angelo whispers. “Always.”

“Promise me?” I humm, clasping his hand in both of mine and bringing it to my lips. “Promise me, Angel.”

“I promise, sweetheart.” He says placing a kiss on my forehead as I kiss his knuckles. “I promise.”

Angelo still had to meet with Roman pretty early. Since it was just ten to eight, I made my man a little breakfast and sat beside him as he ate and took some calls.

I don’t understand, isn’t it a little too early for people to be worried about construction and all? I mean- not that I would know.

What do I know?

“Good morning.” We hear as Blaire walks into the dining room. Agressively rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hand. Hair a mess and a scowl resting on her face.

“Hey.” I smiled. “Good morning. How’d you sleep?”

“I don’t know.” She yawns. “Y’all aren’t really quiet at night you know?” Pulling up a chair across from me, she takes a seat.

“Neither are y’all quiet early in the morning.” She adds.

“Sorry.” I winced from embarrassment as I glanced at Angelo. He was rather enraged instead of being uneasy.

I don’t understand why he was so indifferent toward Blaire. And neither was he willing to share any information with me.

Rude.

“Sit.” I sighed. “I’ll get you breakfast.”

“Okay.” Blaire yawned pouring herself a big glass of water from the pitcher that I had filled with iced water. “I don’t want eggs though.”

“Alright.” I smiled pushing myself up from the chair and venturing into the kitchen.

“Well then fuck you too, you fucking asshole!” Blaire yelled as I was done putting the apple slices to her plate. Her outburst made me sigh.

The next second I heard her stomp into the kitchen, breathing deep. Engraged from whatever fight he had with Angelo.

“Here.” I offered her the plated food. “I didn’t put eggs but added apples.”

“Thanks.” She grumbled. “Can you tell your fiance to not talk to me? Or about me? He’s fucking rude and biased.”

“Okay.” I reply giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I’ll tell him.” I don’t even ask what made her cuss as loud as she did. But then again, she has been acting out quite a lot so there is that.

“Why did you even agree to marry him?” She asks with a scoff. “He’s truly the epitome of rude and the most biased person I have ever seen.”

“I am marrying him because I love him.” I said with a little smile putting the apple peels on the waste bin under the sink. “That’s why?”

“Why is he so fucking mean to me, Bubbles?” She asks angrily dropping her fork on the plate. It makes a clattering sound hitting the China. “Why does he judge me so damn much! What did I ever do to him?”

“I don’t know, babe.” I sigh. “Nobody tells me anything that goes around here, so I can’t really say.”

“Well, that’s because you cry too much and nag too and play mum too much and then everybody has to take a dime out of their pocket to console you.” She snaps.

“True.” I agree. “Eat- I’ll- I’ll see Angelo out. Okay?”

Well, she wasn’t wrong though. I thought. As blunt and as nonsugared as it was, it was true.

I nag too much.

“Yeah.” She replies going back to eat her food.

With a rag towel in my grip while wiping my hands dry, I walk out to give Angelo a kiss before he leaves for the day.

“What’s wrong with Blaire?” Angelo asks me as soon as I stand in front of him to give him a little kiss.

“I don’t know, she didn’t tell me.” I smile wrapping my arms around his neck, standing up in my toes. “All I heard was her yelling at you? What was that about?”

“Roman called. Asked if she was still here and I replied that she was still breathing- I have no idea what has her so offended.”

“She’ll calm down.” I smile placing chaste kiss on his mouth. “She’s just stressed. I’ll make her some tea.”

“How about you don’t make her some tea and how about you go get start on that yoga?” Angelo asks. “Hmm?”

“Shush.” Shaking my head, I place a finger against his mouth. “I’m going make Blaire some-”

The abrupt ting of my phone cuts me off.

“I’m going to make Blaire some tea and then I’m going to do that yoga and dance for a while-”

My phone tings again earning making me utter a sound of annoyance.

“I’ll see you for dinner, baby.” Angelo shakes his head giving me yet another kiss and turning to walk out. I pick up the wretched device from the table to see who needed me so early.

I half hoped it would be Belle. She makes everything better. I half hoped it would be her smiling face flashing across the screen but instead-

Instead, the video clip showed Belle, my sweet little sister tied up to a chair. Her down like eyes leaking tears like waterfalls as she yells, kicking her feet.

My God. I palm pressed against my mouth, I back up against the wall. A voice message drawls out.

The words of which, I can’t even hear because all that rings in my ears are the screams of my little sister.

“Sweetheart-” I hear Angelo. He was making back into the house. A frown in his face. “Have you seen my work phone-”

Tears blurry my vision as I watch the fifteen second video clip helplessly. Backed against the wall of my dining room.

“Ariel?” Angelo frowns rushing to my side. Belle’s cries vibrate out from the speakers of my phone.

“Che cazzo?” (What the fuck?) Angelo snaps snatching the phone from my grip. The voice message replays again. The floor vanishes under me.

“Ariel?” It was Blaire. “Hey what’s wrong?”

Angelo kneels down by me as my head gives up at the horrible scene of my little sister being hostage in a dark rusty room. “Baby, breathe for me.”

“Breathe for me, Ariel.” Angelo whispers again, rubbing my arms gently.

“Belle.” I whisper. “Angelo- Belle. Belle, she’s- Oh God, Angelo! That’s Belle!”

“Shush, baby.” He whispers pulling me to him and tosses the phone at Blaire. “Get Eli on the phone for me. Now.”

Blaire doesn’t question him as he fishes out his phone to call whoever.

My phone rings.

“It’s your mum.” Blaire mutters.

“Put it on speaker.” Angelo rasps.

Blaire obliges. I think. Because I can’t see. My face is pressed to Angelo’s chest.

“Ariel?” My mama’s raspy voice comes out from the phone’s speaker. “Ariel, sweetheart-”

But I don’t hear anything after that. Angelo rips the phone from Blaire’s hand and rasps out in fluent Italian.

“Eli?” Blaire snaps. “This is me, Blaire. We need a number traced. Yeah. Yeah, uh Ariel’s contracts yes. Can you get everyone at Angelo’s in ten? Yeah yeah, No, I don’t have my computer. Call Roman for me would you? See you in ten.”

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

I roughly went through it so Ig there aren’t any errors. But I’ll check em later. Lemme knu bout the chapter.

Also, who had Belle? And- why? Hmm~

-November.

58

ARIEL POV

I had no idea how time passed in a blur and so slow at the same time. I suppose it had to do something with the thumping fear that increased on my chest. Fueling all the worst ever outcomes imaginable.

Shivering and fidgeting with the shawl that covered me had become my only work. Tears had long dried replaced with agony and fear.  Fear of whatever could happen to my little sister.

There was no call from the kidnappers again. They didn’t want a ransom. Not money atleast.

They wanted me .

That’s what the voice message said. For me to come alone in a warehouse just outside of Naples. At Eight.

It didn’t bother me as much as Belle’s safety did. How was she? Was she hurt? Was she alright? Was she fed?

Who were they? And how did they get to her at the first place?

She was so very young to suffer this way. I didn’t even know if the trauma of being a hostage would ever leave her. She might be crying and wanting to go home.

My sweet sister. My sweet sweet little sister.

Mama and Papa had rushed to Naples after Angelo had explained everything to them. I couldn’t get a word out because, they wanted me and so they used Belle as a pawn. Mama was frantic. Dad was worries but he kept his worries silent. Mama cried silently.

I should never have rekindled with my family. I thought. If I didn’t, Belle would have been saved. She wouldn’t have to go through so much pain and such a horrible situation right now.

It was all but my fault.

“Sweetheart?” Angelo occupied the seat beside me. “Darling, have a bite.”

I pushed away the plate of food he offered. I couldn’t even bare to swallow a morsel not knowing if Belle had eaten or not?

How can I? She was a hostage because of me. She was possibly traumatized and scarred for life. All because of me.

“Baby if you don’t eat, how are you going to fight?” Angelo whispered wrapping an arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer to him. “Just a bite, sweetheart.”

“Please.” I begged. “I can’t.”

“Just a bite, let me feed you.” He sighed.

“Please, Angelo.” I whimpered. “Please-”

“Alright.” The man sighed putting the plate of toasted bread with a salad on top, on the coffee table. “Let me just hold you then, alright?”

“Yes.” I chewed the corner of my mouth leaning my head against his chest. My hands fisting on his crisp white shirt.

“Belle will be alright, tadpole.” Angelo sighed rubbing my arm, oh so gently. “She will be fine.”

“I know.”

“She’s our little warrior, she’ll be fine.”

“Hoe long before we find out?” I asked.

“Not long. Defiantly not long. Blaire and Eli are quite the duo. They’ll figure it out.”

I nod.

Blaire and Eli, the head of the family’s all online and computer operations had set up their mini office on my dining room. They have been playing and replaying the audio clip over and over, trying to do whatever to find out where the signal came from and where it was now.

But so far, we didn’t have any luck.

“Fuck this shit!” Blaire snapped from somewhere making me close my eyes. “It doesn’t make any sense, Angelo!”

“What doesn’t?” Angelo let’s me out of his hold as he makes way to where Blaire and Eli was seated. Roman was in Angelo’s office carrying out whatever he was doing with some men who had followed behind him like a brigade of army.

Mama and Papa were here. And so far, I hadn’t talked to them. I don’t think I had the courage to face them. What do I say? That for your eldest daughter who was possibly an outcast to family name you lost you youngest?

What do I say to my parents?

Mama had walked over a number of times, offering me to eat. Lay down for a while. I couldn’t even look at her. I couldn’t even look at her in the eyes because I was the reason my little sister was held captive?

“Principessa?” I heard my father but didn’t look up to see his worried face. But couldn’t help hearing his more worried voice.

“Why don’t you look at me, amore?” He whispered and as if I was years younger he oh so soothingly patted my head before stoking my hair. Again and again. I could feel long dried tears surface on my eyes gain.

Angrily, I wiped them away but couldn’t help my quivering lips as papa oh so sweetly, pulled me to his arms like I was little again.

“Don’t cry.” Papa whispered, still striking my hair, placing a little kiss on my forehead. “Don’t cry, la mia piccola principessa. Don’t cry.”

“It’s all my fault.” I whimpered. “It’s all my fault, papa.”

“No, it’s not.” Papa said. “It’s not your fault, tesoro. Don’t blame yourself.”

“They had her because of me, daddy!” I yelled. “Because they wanted to have me and now they have Belle, our sweet little Belle!”

“Belle will be fine!” Papa urges. “Look at me, piccola principessa.”

I do.

“She’ll be scared for life, papa.” I sniffled. “She would hate me- she would hate me. All her life she’ll hate me-”

“That’s not true, sweetheart.” Papa sighs placing my head in his chest. “That’s not true. She might be scared but she loves you. Sisters aren’t capable of hate, amore mio.”

A commotion in the dining room made us turn toward the source of the noise. Roman jogged down through the stairs, his phone glued to his ear as she shot rapid fire orders in Italian. The men who had followed him inside the study rushed behind him as Angelo, Blaire and Eli walked out of the dining room.

“We have a lead.” Angelo declared.

“I’m coming.” I wipe away my tears with the back of my hand, standing abruptly. Maybe it was the lack of food in my system, that I swayed a little when I stood up. But I managed to cover it like a champ as I made my way toward the trio and Roman.

“I’m coming too.” I said.

“No, sweetheart.” My finance said, moving closer to me. His hand cupped my cheek making my lean on to him. “Belle will be home soon, sí?”

I don’t know. “Hmm”

“How about you get started with all her favourites while we rush and bring the little monster home?” Angelo offered me half a smile.

“But-” I want to go. I want to see for myself that Belle, our sweet little Belle was fine. That she wasn’t hurt.

“Sorella.” Roman placed a hand on my shoulder. “Angelo is right. Besides somebody needs to stay by your mama and papa. Why don’t you help us that way? Yeah?”

I shake my head. “Please. I want to go.”

“Ariel.” Angelo warns. “Baby, no. Stay here. Please. For Belle. Stay.”

“But-”

There was no more sayings on that matters. The men were out of the house. Just like that, a number of engines started in the driveway and in a minute the serial of cars drove out of the iron gates as two guess closed them behind the last black SUV.

“Come.” Mama wrapped her arm around me. “Sit down for a while. You’re pale.”

“I’m so sorry, maa.” I whisper as she turned me around to walk toward the couch where Dad was still sitting. Looking very much worried sick.

“Darling, don’t put blame on your shoulder for something that someone did just to hurt you and your family.” Mama said helping me sit down in a couch, occupying the space beside me. “Never do that, sweet.”

“I feel so helpless, mama.” I whimper placing my head on her shoulder, pulling the shawl tight around me. “So helpless and I can’t help but think that if I hadn’t met Belle and you it wouldn’t have happened-”

“Shhh.” Mama whispers. “Shush, baby. It was supposed to happen that why it happened. And Belle, Belle will be fine.”

“How can you tell, maa?” I sniffled. “She’s just five. Just a wee baby of five, how’s she supposed to be fine after being kidnapped?”

“I don’t know babe.” Mama sighs. “I don’t know. But I believe in God and I trust him. I trust him to keep my children safe. Don’t you worry.”

Even though the unlimited amount of reassurance I revived from both my parents, I couldn’t help but worry. And I knew that no matter what and how much they were reassuring me, they were worried too. Scared. And freaking out every second inside their head.

They had lost me when I was sixteen year old. Albeit I had ran away by myself but they did loose me. And now Belle is taken away from them, because of me. Belle was made to act like a bridge between me and the those who wanted to hurt me.

No amount of reassurance was enough to calm the parents of the kidnapped girl. I was just her elder sister who she barley knows. It broke my heart. And it made me helpless.

I so desperately wanted to help. To be of help, as much as little or big that might me. I wanted to help get back my little sister who these vile people had ripped away from her parents and her family. But all I could do was sit and pray.

Pray to every God who will listen so my little sister comes back home safe and sound.

I slowly watched the clock strike to eight. An unusual ache started on my chest as I kept pacing around the living room. Mama went to lay down for a while. Dad was still immoveable from his position on the sofa. Alyssa had arrived just an hour ago and she was in the kitchen, making something for me to eat.

I wasn’t hungry. I couldn’t eat. But Alyssa insisted.

However, right now my favourite thing to do was stare at the clock while watching the minutes pass. Angelo hadn’t called yet. Neither had Roman. We had no idea what was going on and now that the time was over, I felt panic surge up to me.

Please let our little Belle be okay. I prayed. Please. If anything ever happens to her, I don’t think I would be able to forgive myself. I made a noise of discomfort as the clock showed five minutes after eight.

God, what was happening.

“Sit down, Ariel.” Alyssa urged. Her hands holding a bowl. “Come on girl, I made some soup.”

“I don’t want to eat.” I whisper shaking my head. Even my hands shook as I pulled up my hair onto a bun. They had by some means fallen over my shoulder from my knot bun.

“You’re shaking.” Alyssa admonished wrapping her fingers around my wrist and pulling me down to sit beside her. “Have something to eat, atleast. Come on, sweet.”

Reluctantly, I sipped the bowl of soup ignoring the toasted bread bits before leaning my head on the backrest of the couch.

“Have you heard from Angelo?” I whispered to papa who had his head on his hands sitting across from me.

“No news, princess.” He mumbled.

Chewing the inside of my cheek I give him a nod. “I’m going to check up on mama.”

When I didn’t get an answer from papa, I stood up to walk to the guest room that mama was in. She hadn’t slept in more than twenty hours and on top of that she had a journey from one end to the other. But instead of sleeping on the bed, like I thought she would be, she sat on the edge, silently crying and whispering prayer verses.

I was almost ready to go in and hug her when I heard the humm of engines. And by the look on Mama’s face she did too. Instead of hugging ma, I ran down the stairs just like I had ran up, tears blurring my vision as I crossed the distance to the front door.

Angelo stepped out from the backseat of a black range Rover, on his arms he carried a sleeping Belle. Her head on his shoulder and little arms around his neck.

Clasping my hand under my chin, I uttered a prayer of thankfulness before rushing out through the open doors to the driveway. The cold gravel road under my bare feet.

“Shh. She’s sleeping.” Angelo cupped my cheek with his free hand. “Just fell asleep. She’s fine, baby. She’s fine.”

A sob broke out of my chest as I hugged Angelo who wrapped his arms around me. “She’s fine now, baby. She’s fine.”

A second later, when I unwrapped myself from Angelo’s embrace, he ushered me into the house while carrying a sleeping Belle in his arms.

Angelo placed her on the bedroom upstairs, the one that mama was occupying and caressed her her hair, pushing back the dark ringlets that framed her face.

“This little woman is so incredibly brave, sweetheart.” Angelo whispered shaking his head. “She was so very brave today.”

I take a seat on the edge of the bed beside Belle’s sleeping form as mama occupies the other. Peppering her smaller face and hands with kisses and love. Tears streaming down her face.

“Tank you, son.” Papa whispered, placing a palm on Angelo’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t even want to imagine-”

Angelo, understanding offered my father a nod and patted his shoulder before leaving the room.

After taking a good look at Belle and kissing her forehead, papa leaves the room. Probably to have a word with Angelo.

Pushing the hairs away from Belle’s face, I looked for any visible injury or cuts. There was none. She looked surprisingly fresh and smelled of soap. Her dress was new. Sniffling, I brought her little hand to my lips placing a kiss on her fist.

“I was supposed to pick her up from her friend’s house you know?” Mama whispers. “She was at a friend’s house for a birthday party. I dropped her off myself and then when I went to pick her they said she didn’t even come.”

I frowned at mama’s words.

“But I had drove her to her friend’s house. How can she never arrive? I called your papa to ask if he had picked her up. He hadn’t it was already nine or ten at night and then papa came over and we made police complaint. They started out a search but it was dead close. Police kept saying it was kidnapping and they would call for ransom or whatnot- but-”

“The video came to me.” I whispered nodding, still caressing Belle’s sweet face. She looked so calm and quiet sleeping. Almost as if she were not the Belle who was on everybody’s tail every now and then.

“Yes.” Mama hesitates. “I felt as if I had failed again. That I had failed to protect Belle the way I had failed to live you, princess.”

I shake my head. “You didn’t fail. She’s right here and she’s safe. She’s fine.”

“Yes. Because you’re her sister. And because Angelo knee what to do when Police kept telling me to wait twenty four hours before they can start an official search.” Mama whispers. “I’ve been thinking of moving closer to you ever since you left.”

“Oh.” I frown. “Wh-what about the stores and papa? The factories are all in Florence. And Belle, her school-”

“Papa won’t be moving. Just me and Belle. It’s been unusual after the divorce. Papa has started to look for a new life partner, I got Belle’s custody so I suppose-”

“That’s-” I frown. “Won’t that hurt Belle? She loves spending time with Papa.”

Mama smiles sadly. “I don’t know Ariel. It is so very complicated. Belle rarely sees papa and it’s so very rare they spend time together even though they love it, papa can always visit. And I can work from anywhere. I have a few stores with contract in Naples, it wouldn’t be so hard.”

I nod. “I suppose.”

“Hm.”

“Don’t you think you and papa will ever rekindle or get back?” I ask tentatively.

“There is no chance of that, sweetie.” Mama smiles. “We’re not in love anymore.”

I nod. I don’t understand, how can you not be in love anymore?

“Anyway.” Mama wipes away her tears that had cascaded down her cheeks. “Let me go get us something to eat, hmm? All you have had is a little soup.”

With a smile I offer my mum a nod.

Blaire and Roman doesn’t make it back to the house. Blaire however calls me to let me know that she’s back at the penthouse. What I don’t understand is how she was unwilling to talk to Roman yesterday and now she is going back to his place. It worries me, but I don’t voice it. I just wish her a good night and walk back to the bedroom.

Angelo stood in the balcony still dressed the way he was, a ribbon of smoke coiled through the night air. His favourite ashtray resting on the railing of the balcony.

“Hey.” I whispered standing behind him, placing my hand on his waist.

“Sweetness.” My fiance mused turning to face me. “Did you eat?”

I nod. “Alyssa made stew.”

Angelo smiles. “Has everybody gone to bed?”

“Hmm.” I whisper looking back into his eyes. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Saving our family.” I whisper placing my head in his chest, pushing myself closer to him. “How can I ever live without you?”

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to live without me.” Angelo whispers. “Aren’t I your family? How can I not save my family?”

“Thank you.” I whisper again. “Thank you.”

“Shh.” He whispered. “Let me draw us a bath, sí? I’m tired.”

Pulling away from him, I wipe away my tears. “Let me. I’ll give you a massage.”

“Grazie.” Angelo leans down to place a kiss on my nose. I smile. 

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

I prolly sound like a broken record but y’all please leave some feedback. Please. We only have two chapters left of this book. I wouldn’t want to leave it on a not where it’s ranking is the lowest. This book already has the lowest of reads among all my works that are finished. I’ve never ended a book with so much less reads. Maybe it wasn’t as fun. But even if it wasn’t, please show some support so I don’t feel like a shit lol.

Anyways, next chapter from Angelo’s pov about what went down. Stay tuned for the unvieling and an extra chapter before epilogue to clean up the mess. Or not if y’all don’t wanna lol. Toodles. Brb to fix the errors.

~ November.

59

⚠️ warning ⚠️ chapter contains graphic scene and gun shots. Anybody disturbed with said scenes may skip the marked scenes.

ANGELO POV

I have never felt so angry and helpless at the same time. I was angry because some fucker, some anonymous , name less bastard had the fucking the courage, to pull up a kidnapping that involved a five year old.

And then I felt helpless because I could do anything accept for waiting on Eli and Blaire to trace out the video clip, waiting on them to get the location.

Yet, not sure if Belle would be there. I felt helpless because I’ve felt my sweet girl, stare at distance all day, blaming herself soupy for the disappearence of her little sister. I felt helpless because we had no idea in what condition Belle was. And it was clawing out my flesh.

The co-ordinates that Eli extracted lead us to a little abandoned winery just in the outskirts of Naples, between the borders of Napoli and Lazia.

Like Blaire had repeated a number of times, it doesn’t make sense. The abandoned winery was a LaRusso property. A property owned by Ariel’s father which has been out of use for quite a while now. Since their wine business went bankrupt.

When the tires screeched to a halt infront of the property bound with iron gates at the front. Weed and wild flower plants covering the once lush entrance and doorway.

“Is this it?” Blaire asked frowning. She was shrugging on a jacket that she had brought along. “What a bunch of hooligans-”

“I need men at the back.” Roman snapped, cutting off Blaire’s statement.  “Half of them at the back. Angelo will lead through the front. Stay behind Capo Bestone. I’ll be at the back with the rest of the soliders. and we’ll circle the property-”

“What about me?” Blaire asked.

“Stay behind Angelo.”

“Why can’t I come with you?”

“Because, I said so, Miss Anderson. Behind Capo Bestone. Or the car. Choose yourself.”

Blaire doesn’t reply to that as Roman gets out of the car. A number of doors open after his and I see men, dressed in suits march behind him, falling into steps with their boss.

“What’s going on between you two?” I asked, checking the magazine of my gun, just to be sure. Three spare tucked on the holster around my ankle.

“As if you know nothing.” She sniffles. “Don’t be so cruel and twist the knife more, Angelo.”

“Man up, Blaire.” I replied with a roll of my eyes, tossing her a spare Glock. “Own it. Apologize, take your time. But own it. Man up.”

“That easy, init?” She scoffs.

“That easy.” I add glancing out of the window and activating the little bug in my ear that connects me to Roman.

As soon as Roman give me a code green, I stepped out of the car, the late evening breeze humid and hot against the skin. A number of men follow my queue as Blaire gets down from the car, stretching.

“I want the front, surrounded.” I say turning to face twenty men who were under me right now. “Shoot to injure only. Don’t kill. We take the puppet master to interrogate.”

With a curt nod, they distribute uniformly. The outgrown bushes and weeds makes it easier for the soliders to go camouflage. 

“Blaire.” I jerked my head. “Stay behind me. And as soon as we find Belle, I want you to take her and run. Occupy a car and stay put.”

“Gotcha.” Blaire nodded tightening up her ponytail. “Take bell and run to a car and stay put.”

With Blaire behind me and soliders giving me a green signal, I opened the door of the abandoned winery. The property was old and like any other old ancient winery this has almost the same lay out. Pipes stretched to the ceilings and from both ends meeting above, a way for the wine to be carried into barrels. Wooden wine barrels stacked one above the other on either side of the long hall room like property.

“Creepy.” Blaire muttered, as I heard the clock of her gun being load. “There isn’t anybody.”

“Quiet.” I hissed but then heard footsteps. A man’s shadow looked over us.

(⚠️ Graphic scene ahead.

Proceed

at risk.⚠️)

“Chi è?” (Who is it?) The voice called out. “Chi sei e cosa vuoi?” (Who are you and what do you want?)

“Tu chi sei?” (Who are you?) I roared. “Mostrami il tuo viso.” (Show me your face.)

There was no sound for a second but then a bullet fired. It cracked through the semi darkness of the wine factory.

“What a bastard.” Blaire hisses fucking down however the bullet wasn’t shot at us.

The kidnappers possessed weapons. I caused a little jolt inside me. If they possesd weapon, it meant, they could harm Belle.

We needed to step carefully.

“Come out.” I bellowed. “I just want to talk.”

Blaire snorted behind me.

“Who the fuck are you and what are you doing here?” The man yelled back from wherever he was, behind the shadows. I hear a small shriek followed by a cry.

Belle.

Another bullet pierced through the air as I caught movement behind one of the barrel stack. Turning I placed a finger on my mouth to silence Blaire and pointed at the barrel.

With a nod, she backed away. As I advanced from the other side. The barrels of the wine blocked out whatever windows they had creating a suffocating air change inside the property. As I rounded the other side, Blaire had already pointed her gun at the bastard.

But the man, whose back was turned to me had pulled out his gun, pointing his arm to Blaire’s head.

“Drop it.” I ordered. “Now.”

I saw his muscles turn rigid and I turned off the safety of my trusted Mark 27.

“Lascia perdere.” (Drop it.) I hissed again. “Now!”

The man tentatively dropped his arm. “Turn.”

The guy obliged and turned to show his face. “Where is she?”

His nostrils flared as the realization drowns him. His master plan had failed. “Per chi stai supplicando?” (Who are you begging for?) I asked, my eyes boring into his.

I recognize his face.

Some- Donnati. Or whatever. The one Ariel talked about, once. The one whose studies her dad had funded-

“Alessio Donnati.” I rasped.

“How do you know me?” He snapped.

“You will be surprise of my resources, Donnati.” I snarled. “Lead the way. And mind you if you overstep, your blood will stain my shoes-”

Alessio Donnati, hissed at me again, pulling a face that belonged to the dogs.

“Lead the fucking way, Donnati.” I jerked my gun at him. “Hand your weapon to the lady.”

But Blaire as much of a nutter head as she was, snatched the gun from Donnati, catching him off guard and disembodied the weapon.

Not bad.

Alessio Donnati, flaring lead the way, taking us through the foyer and through up a rusty staircase and into another hall room.

Said like done, Belle was sitting on a chair. Her eyes tied with a black blindfold. Her blue dress dirty. Hand tied on her lap and cheeks tear stained.

“Release the girl.” I ordered.

“Don’t you dare order me around.” I heard the hiss of a woman before a felt touch of a cold barrel against my neck. “I didn’t realize that my pet’s mistake would bring you so far.”

I heard a sound of struggle behind me. Undoubtedly Blaire was caught off guard too.

“What do you want?” I asked, my gun clutched tightly in my hand.

“Ariel and Belle LaRusso’s dead body on the floor.” The woman replied in a cool shrill voice.

“Why?”

“You don’t want to risk your life for a little whore, boy.” The lady snarled behind me, jabbing a little harder on my neck.

I could see Belle’s little frame try to squirm out of the bindings around her.

Hold on, buddy. I pleaded. Just a little longer.

I heard the click of another gun and several footsteps behind me. Taking the queue, that it was Roman and our boys, I turned in a flash, only to take the weapon out of her hand before Blaire twisted her hand behind her back.

“Yeah?” I rasped. “You have no fucking idea what I would do for Ariel LaRusso.”

The woman made a strangling noise as Blaire rolled her eyes at the suited woman.

“Time for our abandoned winery, lady.” Blaire humped. “But I assure you, it’s prettier than this. We have windows and it doesn’t smell like dead rats rotting.”

⚠️ end of the said scene ⚠️

Shaking my head at her, I padded toward Belle. As if on auto pilot, she tried to wiggle out of the tight bindings and tried to kick her legs.

Her small body jerked and twisted to resist her restraints as I held her hands to untie her, breaths coming out in deep puffs. Quickly, I undid the duct tape that kept her quiet and a sob broke out from her little lungs.

“Hey.” I cooed untying the blindfold. “Hey, it’s me. Angelo. Do you remember me?”

As of the recognition hit her hard, she began to wail. Her little eyes screwed shut as I undid her hands and legs before plucking her from the chair and into my arms.

Her little numb hand went around my neck as her whole body shook with tears. “Shh.” I cooed. “Shush, you brave, brave girl. It’s okay.”

“I wan mama.” She sobbed, wetting my shirt. Her little hands fisted my collar. “I wan my mommy!”

“There.” I rubbed her back reassuringly. “There. We’ll go to your mommy, yeah? Let’s get out of here first.”

Belle didn’t stop sobbing until we were inside the car. She also refused to look at anybody or go to anybody. Thus, with a driver only, we journeyed back to the city.

Belle slowly calmed down, her face still pressed against my neck. Her fists still tight in my collar as I soothingly rubbed down her back and rythemically massaged her hair.

“Belle?” I called. “Are you awake?”

Belle sniffled in response.

“Would you want to go get some food, princess?” I ask. “Does that sound good?”

“Humph.” Belle hums, her head nodding.

“Okay.” I sigh. “Let’s get you some food and a new dress. Yeah? This one is dirty.”

“Otay.” Belle sniffs. “I just wanna go to mommy.”

“We will go to your mommy.” I whisper to her, rubbing her back. “We’ll be with your mama soon. Don’t you worry, princess.”

The car halts infront of a drive through restaurant as I order food for Belle. She points for fries and a little packet of nuggets and a little burger that comes with a toy.

“What do you want for drink, darling?” I ask pushing the dark ringlets away from her hair. “Water?”

“Cola.” She whispers taking one fry and munching on it. “Please?”

“Alright.” I sigh ordering a coca cola for Belle. I don’t know if she was allowed coca color or whatever, but tonight was exceptonal. “Let’s get you one cola and we will go to buy you a dress, yes?”

Belle nodded as I held the paper bag of food for her. With her head still on my shoulder, she sticks her hand into the bag pulling out whatever she wants one by one to nibble on.

With a wave of my hand the driver puts the car on drive. The only sound dominating the silent air inside the car was the occasional rustling of the paper food bag from which Belle ate, poking about her fried and nuggets.

Stopping infront of a kid’s clothing store run by one of our family captains, I bought Belle a dress and new socks and shoes, asking for a sales woman to assist her to change into her new clothes and wash her up.

The lady kindly obliges after a hefty tip that I offer her.

“Are you police?” Belle asks once we slide back into backseat of the car. She was still reluctant to sit on the seat but comfortably settles down on my chest.

“No.” I answer using one of the rubber bands that we purchased to put her unruly hair into a ponytail. “Why?” I ask. Urging her to go on and keep talking.

However, I have no idea how she was mentally. Like any child kept without her mama and food, she had cried and kicked her legs and thrown her hands all around. But then she went quiet with her head lolling about my neck.

I couldn’t quite place her mental state. And until I interrogated the bastard who had this little girl as hostage, I can’t at all put my finger on whatever might have taken a toll on her.

“Because you has a gun.” She whispered. Her eyebrows pulling into a frown. “And a wot of people with you. Is you police?”

“I’m not police.” I smile at the little human. “But something like a police.”

“I don’t like police.” She whispers.

“Me neither.” I agree.

“Where are we going?” Belle asks perring out of the window.

“We’re going to my home.” I reply. “Your sister is there. And your mama and papa.”

“Bun is?” She asks turning her head to me. “Bun is there where we are going?”

“Sí.” I whispered. “Bun is. And she’s waiting for you to get home.”

“You know that miss Bernardi said papa was waiting for me somewhere too?” She whispers as a shiver runs though her. Belle snuggles closer to me. “She said papa was waiting for me at home and he didn’ wan me to go to Francesca’s because she’s a bad girl who talks to boys-”

“She did?” I ask with a frown. “Who is this Miss Bernardi?”

“Papa’s girlfriend.” She whispers. “She works for daddy at the office.”

Well that somewhat explains it.

“But then she became mean when I got into her car-” Belle mumbles a sniffle escaping her as she wipes away her nose agressively. “I dun like Miss Bernardi no more.”

“Don’t worry.” I say. “You won’t be seeing Miss Bernardi anymore.”

Belle stares at me doe eyed before leaning her head back down on my shoulder.

“Do you want to finish the rest of your nuggets?” I ask.

“Hm.” Belle mumbles as I hold open the paper bag for her. “Grazie.”

“You’re welcome, princess-y.”

By the time the car halts infront of the house Belle had fallen asleep in my arms. Undoubtedly an exaustion induced slumber that made her unable to stay awake.

Stepping out of the vehicle, I saw Ariel, totally dishevelled. A thin shawl over her shoulders, cheeks stained with tears as she makes her way to me. Bare feet, her lovely hair a mess in top of her head.

I have never seen her so distressed before.

“Hey.” I whispered. But she reached out for her sister, looking at her for any visible injuries or discomfort.

“Shh. She’s sleeping.” I  cupped her cheek with my  free hand. “Just fell asleep. She’s fine, baby. She’s fine.”

A sob broke out of my girl’s chest as she threw her arms around my waist and  hugged me. Wrapping my free arm around her shoulder I placed a chaste kiss on her head. “She’s fine now, baby. She’s fine.”

After I lay Belle in the guest room bed that was prepared for her and Mrs. LaRusso, Ariel sat by her little sister, clutching her hand while the little human slept on peacefully.

“This little woman is so incredibly brave, sweetheart.” Angelo whispered shaking his head. “She was so very brave today.” I whispered to Ariel placing a hand on her shoulder. Hoping that it would reassure her that her little sister was fine.

Andrea LaRusso thanks me before I walk out of the guest room and into the study. I talk to my men for a brief moment, explaing everything and thanking them before they excuse themselves.

I stand up from my chair when I watch Ariel’s father knock on my study door.

“per favore, entra.” (Please, come on in.) I offered him moving toward the alcohol cabinet to retrieve a decanter of whiskey and two glasses.

“Come posso mai ringraziarti?” (How can I ever thank you?) The man sighed walking in as he took a seat on one of the visitor’s chair.

“Quello che hai fatto per la mia bambina…” (What you have done for my baby girl-“

“Signore, you needn’t thank me.” I reply. “I love your elder daughter. Her family is mine. Her little sister is like a little sister to me. And I was taught to kill and die for family.”

“I only assumed you knew the construction business.” The old man jokes.

Shaking my head, I chuckle as I pour two glasses of Macallan.

“Do you have any idea of who might be behind all this?”

“Belle mentioned of somebody called a Miss Bernardi.” I replied. “She said she was your lady friend who worked with you.”

“Chiara Bernardi.” Signore LaRusso confirms. “But-”

“Belle says that she came to pick her up from her friend’s party claiming that you were waiting for her. “ I add. “We also encountered Alessio Donnati, who you were funding, if I am correct-”

“Sí.” The man frowns.

“The lady claimed to have your daughters dead.” I take a sip of my whiskey. “However, she hasn’t quite stated why. I suppose for the reason of taking Airel and Belle’s life she had abuducted Belle and asked Ariel for the ransom-”

“I don’t understand-”

“It might appear confusing and distressing.” I reassure. “However, I do plan to interrogate both them. I would like to ask what you would for me to do with them?”

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“I am asking what would you like for me and my men to do with the kidnappers and vowed killers of your daughters?” I repeated. “They haven’t done anything to the family and therefore my hands are tied. I would like for you to vouch an appeal.”

“What do you suggest?”

I chuckle. “Me? I would kill anybody ever so slowly if they even dared to look up to any daughter of mine, signore LaRusso. They kidnapped your youngest daughter and had planned to kill both- I would probably loose my sanity if I were you.”

“You’re a dangerous man, signore Giovanni.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “I vouch an appeal for them to be punished for abducting la mia bambina, however, if you don’t mind I would like to be present while you question Chiara and Alessio.”

“You have every right to hear their confession, signore.” I nod.

After the little conversation with Andrea LaRusso, I walk into the bedroom hoping to get a shower and lay down for a while. Hopefully catch some sleep to wash away all the thoughts that had been troubling me all day.

Instead, I stand on the balcony, balancing my favourite ashtray on the rail as I lit up a cigarette.

Ariel often if not always gets bothered and fussy when I light up a smoke inside the room. She says the smell bothers her and that smoke was going to ruin my lungs.

What my woman doesn’t know it, due to her utmost concern and scolding, I had tried to cut down and by a far margin I had succeeded as well.

“Hey.” I heard her whisper before I felt her hand on my waist.

After a day like today, her touch was welcome.

“Sweetness.” I mused, squishing the butt of my cigarette on the ashtray before turning to face her . “Did you eat?”

She nods. “Alyssa made stew.”

“Has everybody gone to bed?” I ask cupping her cheeks in my hand. God she looks so worn out.

“Hmm.” She whispers looking back into my eyes. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Saving our family.” She mumbles again,  placing her head on my chest, pushing herself closer to me. “How can I ever live without you?”

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to live without me.” I whisper back. She has lost her sanity if she thinks she has to see a day without me in it.  “Aren’t I your family? How can I not save my family?”

“Thank you.” She whispers again. “Thank you.”

“Shh.” I coo. “Let me draw us a bath, sí? I’m tired.”

“Let me give you a massage.” She offers with a smile after wiping away her leaked tears. “Would you like that?”

“I would love that, sweetheart.”

⚠️ graphic scene. Proceed at own risk ⚠️

It was later the the next morning, I sat behind the desk in the interogation room. Bored.

Alessio Donnati was getting on my nerves and boring me at the same time. Roman was fussy because he was getting bored too.

Bored Roman and I at the same time, in the same place in not usually fun for who becomes our source of fun.

“Donnati, make this easier for me.” I said. “I have a date to attend to with my fiance. So spit your pathetic story out. Why?”

Alessio Donnati only fumed, his eyes boring into mine. I pointed my gun toward his left eye.

I would rather,guage it out. Nobody dares to look me in the eye only to disrespect me and lives to see the next day.

“Let’s play a ten second game, Donnati.” Roman finally sighed. “I ask you a question, you fail to answer, my brother here, shoots. Wherever he wants. Sí?”

Donnati doesn’t answer.

“Let’s start with did you attack Ariel on the wedding?” Roman asks leaning back again his chair. “One. Two. Three-” he continues to count to ten. I move my gun toward his shin.

When the ten second game is over, my finger on the trigger slips. The interogation room being sound proof conceals the noise of the bullet and the loud shriek of Donnati

“See?” I ask our subject. “That was a demo. Ask away boss.”

“Did you attack Ariel on the bar?” Roman asks.

Silence.

Roman count’s to ten. Bang.

“Did you attack Ariel on the wedding?” He repeats.

Silence.

Roman counts to five. I point my gun at his eye.

“Yes “ Donnati hissed out, tied to the chair opposite to us. “Yes. Damnit. That whore deserves to die!”

My aim falters from his eyes to his crotch. The interogation room rings with a bang before I shoot up from the chair grabbing him by his collar. “What did you call her?”

“A whore!” Donnati spat on the floor as I forced him to look at me. Hissing in pain, the fucker continues. “Selling herself for money, that fucking bitch! I could have-”

I shove my gun’s barrel inside his mouth, the bastard. Dare he calls my girl a whore. I will make sure he doesn’t have a voice anymore.

“Cat got your tongue?” I hiss shoving the barrel inside so it gagged him. “Huh? Can’t speak? Dare you call my woman a whore, you fucking son of a bitch- I’ll rip your filthy voice box out, you fucking bastard-”

“Angelo.” Roman drawls out. “Get back. He would need his voice to answer.”

Reluctantly, I push him, so the chair skids on the floor.

“Did you lit the Giovanni house on fire, three weeks ago from today? The red car that fired bullets to Angelo’s car, was that you?”

“Yes.” Donnati croaked out. “Yes. It was me. It was all me!”

“Why?” I ask putting my gun down on the table, massaging the bridge of my nose. “Why the fuck, did you lit my fucking house on fire? And how the fuck dare you-”

“That’s because I love her, alright?” Donnati yells. “I loved her and then she went and ran away like a pathetic whore-”

I snatch the gun from the table and aim at his crotch for a second time.

“Say it again.” I challenge as Donnati screams out. “say it again.”

“Chiara Bernardi promised that if I agreed to make Ariel sign up the documents she prepared she would let me have her-”

“What documents?” I snap.

“I don’t know.”

“Donnati I’m fucking warning you-”

“I said I don’t know!” He yelled back at me.

That’s it. This bastard was no use. He was just following Bernardi like a lost puppy. Hoping to get his treat. Ariel.

My Ariel.

The mare thought of it boils my blood and churns my insides.

“I think we are done here, brother.” Roman sighs. “This wasn’t fun. Let John take care to rest of it.”

“I answered!” Donnati reasoned when both of us exited the room. “Let me leave, you bastards.”

⚠️ end of the said scene⚠️

Roman talks with John for a second. However, I don’t interogate Bernardi. I let that pass to mama and Blaire. They occupy the next room with Chiara Bernardi.

Interogation was a messy job.

Blaire as a nut case as she was, she was efficient in everything that interested her. Right now it was interogatting Chiara Bernardi.

Almost an hour later we sat in Roman’s study. Ariel’s father to our addition.

Blaire fingered the little butterfly necklace that had a tracker fitted into it, testing the device on her laptop.

Chiara’s confession revealed that she had gotten a copy of Andrea’s will. And to her dismay and anger, it stated that all his property and riches would be devided between his daughters and their husbands, it had enraged her.

She was with Andrea only for the money and when Andrea’s lawyer drafted the will, it had enraged her. The only way to obtain what she wanted was either to make Ariel and Belle sign papers that would claim they don’t want their father’s inheritance or just to take them out of the way.

And Belle was still too young to sign anything, therefore she had taken the rare way out. Pairing up with Donnati who already had an unusual obsession for Ariel made her plan easier.

Donnati was vouching for her dirty work while she pulled the strings from behind the curtain.

“This is fine.” Blaire sighed placing the tiny diamond encrusted butterfly necklace back in the cushion box. “This works just fine. Doesn’t blink or anything. Records too.”

“Grazie, Blaire.” I mutter accepting the box from her and pocketing it.

“Do I have to sign anywhere?” Andrea LaRusso asked turning to Roman. We just had a discussion about the outcome of the abductors.

“I don’t back away from my words, signore LaRusso.” Roman chuckled taking a seat behind his desk. “You needn’t sign nothing. We’re fine. You needn’t worry about anything anymore. Not Donnati or your girlfriend. However, I do advice to have your family under protection.”

Signore LaRusso nods and heaves a sigh of agony. “Grazie for what-”

“Signore, Ariel is like my sister. She’s family. We kill and die for family.” Roman repeated my words for previous night.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

One more chapter to go before huge ass epilogue lol. Well, I do hope y’all liked this chapter. Yeah. I can’t believe this is ending.

Also those who follow me on Instagram might have a little glimpse of a new story that is based on Belle and our new hero. Wink. Wink so if you do follow my IG, thank youss. If you don’t please go ahead and hit that follow button because well, I’m active on IG all day.

( nov_ember ) this is my @ so go ahead if you want sneak peaks or edits or just want to hear me complain or whatever.

Also, vote and comment. Let’s show Angelo and Bubbles a bit of love before they leave us.

November.

60

ARIEL’S

POV

The next morning came with a different challenge. However, understanding Belle’s mental state I would think whatever little reassurance she asked for would be less.

And whatever little comfort we could provide her would be negligible given that what she went through in those hours of loneliness.

She is just a child of five years old. I would understand if she doesn’t even want to talk or laugh right now. But I could tell that my mother was dying just to be reassured that her daughter was fine. Just to hear the little girl laugh. Even for a second.

Belle woke up late in the morning when mama was taking a bath. Being alone in the room, she had cried. I had quickly ran to her sitting up on the bed and crying with all her might while her tiny hands covered her face.

No matter how many back rubs I gave her, no matter how much I whispered that she was home and it was okay, she couldn’t stop crying. She especially couldn’t stop crying when papa was around. At first I thought it was because she wanted papa’s attention and affection. However, it the opposite. She didn’t want to go to papa at all.

I didn’t understand, because Belle was a total daddy’s girl and she- she cravedp the attention and affection she gets from dad. But today she didn’t even want to look at him.

The only person Belle completely stopped shaking around was Angelo. She refused to let anybody take her away from his arms and absolutely refused to look at anybody, sucesfully hiding herself on the crook of his neck.

It was only but normal. Because when she realized that only Angelo came to her safety and pulled her out of a dark place, he became her saviour. And her little five year old heart believes that he would only keep her safe. And- and I don’t blame her one bit. She’s just a child.

Only a five year old baby. And the fact that she was taken being said that her papa was waiting for her, had rattled her. She hid away from papa everytime he so much as tried to talk to her.

And I could tell it was breaking my dad’s heart.

Angelo and Roman accompanied by my dad drove to the family estate an hour ago. It left me mama and Belle in the house.

While the little lady was adamant to do anything, she lay on the couch, curled up with Coco and Poodle watching cartoons. No amount of coaxing her or bribing her with sweets or popsicles would lift up her mood.

Mama was getting worried with every passing silent second that Belle provided us with. She was getting way more paranoid when Belle refused her favourite cola pop.

As much as I reassured my mother that she was fine and it would maybe take her a little time to slip back to normal, I couldn’t calm my beating heart myself. Her silence was bothering me too.

“Belle?” Mama called taking a seat beside the little woman who was still staring at the time and Jerry marathon. “Sweetheart, look bun made pizza for lunch.”

Silence.

“It’s your favorite.”

Silence.

“Look, mama even cut it in a bear shape with eyes and nose.”

Silence.

I placed a hand on mama’s shoulder when she released a shakey breath, the plate of pizetta in her grip.

“Let me.” I offered. Belle had only eaten half an apple with sugar sprinkle for breakfast with one biscuit. And the only thing she was sipping was water from her sippy cup since then.

“Oh, Bellie-” I grinned sitting beside her. “Aren’t you hungry?”

Belle turned her face away, cuddling Poodle so her face was hidden.

“Not at all, little sissy?” I asked, massaging her head rythemically. “Don’t you even want the most cheesiest pizetta I made for you?”

“No.” Belle mutters, her voice muffled.

“But it’s bear shaped.” I pouted. “Don’t you even want to look at it?”

She shook her head, her arms around Poodsie as she cuddled onto him.

“Alright then.” I whispered. “I’m just going to keep this here and go. You can have one little slice if you’d like. I also made some watermelon slushy if you want.”

“No.” Belle sniffled. It tugged at my heart strings. Mum was already in tears, her head tilted back, and crying silently.

“Okay.” I whispered leaning down to place a kiss on her head. “I love you, bun. So much.”

By late afternoon, we still couldn’t feed Belle anything. The only thing she would accept is the watermelon slushy I made for her. But that wasn’t something which would fill her tummy. She needed to eat. Half an apple and a biscuit would only keep her from hunger for so long.

She was still on the couch, cuddled with Coco and Poodsie, refusing to speak.

But Angelo, like the savior he was to little Belle, brought a bag of nuggets and fries and coca-cola on his way to home after I had panic called him about Belle.

And now the pair of them sat on the couch, watching Tom and Jerry while Angelo held open a paper bag for Belle, containing her fries and nuggets. She nibbled on the happily.

Angelo somehow even managed to feed her two slices of pizza that I had made for the second time for Belle.

Both of them even talked in hushed tones at they concentrated on the marathon. Belle curled up to chest.

I made my heart swell and break at the same time. Angelo slipping into the role of a elder brother was effortless and graceful. It made me fell in love with him even more so.

Especially now given that Belle wasn’t his biggest of admirers. But, now all Belle could trust and believe was Angelo and Angelo.

However, Belle refusing to communicate with anybody else was equally painful as lovely as it was to watch her communicate with Angelo.

I understand that she needs time to slip out of what her reality was for those hours. What she had gone though. There wasn’t even a scratch on her body that said that she was hurt. But that was on the outside.

In the inside, God knows what her five year old heart and mind has gone through. She was just a baby.

“Darling, what are doing?” I heard my mama yell as she took the spatula from my grasp. I had almost burned the caponata that was being sauteed on the pan. “Sweetheart, you almost burned yourself-”

“Mi dispiace, mamma.” (I’m sorry, mama) I sighed turning off the stove. “I didn’t-”

“That’s okay.” She whispered placing a hand on my shoulder. “Why don’t you go take a seat and see if Belle wants to talk? She isn’t hungry anymore so I suppose she will be a little calm-”

I give her a nod, wiping my hands in a rag towel as I make my way out of the kitchen. Belle was still on Angelo’s lap. However her gloomy face was transformed into a smiling one.

She was now watching the cartoon instead of staring blankly at the screen.

“Have one more.” Angelo shook the paper bag of food. Belle stuck her hand into the bag pulling out an animal shaped nugget and showed him.

“That’s a giraffe.” Angelo muttered.

“I bite it off!” Belle giggled taking a bite of the nugget making Angelo smile at the small human.

“One more.” Angelo mutters diverting his eyes to me from Belle, offering me half a smile.

“Lookie, issa heart.” Belle giggles before taking a bite of the nugget. “You wan one?” She asks.

First I think she was asking Angelo but then realize Angelo holding out the paper bag out to me.

“No cheat, bun.” Belle admonished.

Shaking my head, I stick my hand into the bag pulling out an elephant shaped nuggets.

“Awe, Bun’s got an ewiphant!” Belle mused.

“You can have it.” I hold it out for Belle, who shakes her head.

“You eat it.” She says. “I get another one.”

Later that night when Belle fell asleep from her binge eating and binge watching cartoons, the four of us had dinner, that mama somehow salvaged.

Angelo said Belle might need therapy for a while. Because she was a child and it affected her more than a grown person. Papa and mama agreed. And after dinner while I cleaned off the table and the  loaded the dishwasher, I felt arms around my waist.

“Hi.” I whispered for my man.

“Hi, yourself.” He whispered back. Warm breath fanning my cheek. “Did I ever tell you that you look beautiful when you’re dishevelled and messy?”

“Never.” I reply truthfully.

“You look gorgeous when you’re dishevelled. It reminds me of the first time I saw you ever.”

I shake my head pumping a little hand soap to wash my hands before leaving the kitchen.

“Why, you do remember a lot.”

“I do.” He replies. “You had a fight with one of the other girls about a locker that day. You had just finished with your ballet and came straight into the club for practice- you smelled of oranges-

“I was sweaty.” I reply.

“You smelled of oranges and looked like the most fiery yet adorable thing ever.” He whispered. “I think I fell in love with you then.”

“Why aren’t you a little romantic tonight, Capo Bestone?” I whisper turning in his arms to face him.

“Marry me this Sunday.” He whispered pushing my hair back with one hand while his other held me close to his warm body.

Sunday?

“This Sunday?” I ask with a frown.

“This Sunday.” He nods. “Let’s go to Rome. Let’s get married.”

“Why Rome?” I asked my hands on his chest.

“Because you always had a little polaroid photo of  Santa Maria Maggiore in your locker- and you looked at it everyday-”

A chuckle escaped me.

How did he know that? “How do you know it?”

“You’d be surprised to know what I know, Tadpole.” He whispered. “Is that a yes? Did you want to get married Santa Maria Maggiore?”

I nodded, with my bottom lip between my teeth. “I did. But I never told that to anybody-”

“You needn’t.” He whispered. “I connected several dots. Marry me this Sunday.”

“That’s three days away only.” I replied. “Don’t you have people you want to invite? Guests?”

“I have all the people right here with me.” He said.

“Okay.” I whispered. “Are you sure? On Sunday?”

“Sunday.” Angelo smiled softly. “You would need a white dress.”

But by then my tears were falling like waterfalls down my eyes. And later when Angelo broke the news to the family over dinner the next night, it was an explosion of happiness. And I couldn’t stop crying then either.

A WEEK LATER

Looking at the mirror today, I almost didn’t recognize myself. But that has been the car for almost everyday for the last couple of days.

My hair, it wasn’t bubblegum pink anymore. It was short and rested on my shoulders in their natural dark curls. Except, this morning they looked like a bird’s nest. My dark hair made my eyes pop. Eyes that was tired yet satisfied and dripped happiness at the same time

My cheeks were flushed, my neck and shoulders sported a number of purple blue and red love marks. The trail of them vanishing down the lace trimmed nightie that I donned after I left the bed.

It was undoubtedly settled that my bikini purchase for getting a possible tan was was in fact useless.

Mind you that I bought quite a few pairs, a little on the expansive side and I did want to wear them. Really.

But, I wasn’t as brave enough to sport the love marks left on my arms, neck, chest, stomach, thighs, on my back and lord knew where else. Yesterday morning, I found unusually large and tingling ones on the inside of my thigh.

I wonder how I almost didn’t remember Angelo working on them the night before. It was as if the man had me hypnotized all the while working on his new hobby that made him sleep peacefully at night.

Sighing I placed the wooden hair brush on the dressing table pulling my hair over my shoulder in a loose braid, hoping to keep them out of my face as I stepped out in the balcony.

The breeze was awfully hot and salty. The view from the balcony overlooked the colourful buildings and houses through the steep hills and the falling into the blue calm sea. Positano lay before me like a colorful patchwork quilt, meeting it’s blue trim.

Even though, through the back door of the house lead a flight of stairs directly to the beach but right now I very much preferred to enjoy the view from the villa’s balcony.

Because one, the villa had air conditioning and once we closed all the doors and windows, one couldn’t almost feel the heat at all. Two, I really didn’t want people to look at me and question if I was assulted or not? I was that bruised. And I only prayed that they disolved before we returned home.

But that was it, I didn’t like turning on the air conditioning, because well- when it was turned off it felt as if my skin was burning and I loved the warmth but not really at the same time. Temperature had a bittersweet relationship with me right now.

This five bedroom and six bathroom villa right in the Positano hill top was a wedding gift from Lorenzo and Alyssa. And then it became our four week honeymoon destination, just like that. (Maybe I did request Angelo a little bit.)

I fell in love with this home as soon as I stepped out of the car and looked up to see this eighteenth century villa built in Toscan style. I loved it.

The floors were brick tiled and warmed up by the first rays of sun. I loved it.

Even though you would find Angelo complaining about it atleast twice a day. I loved it.

I loved the wooden windows the opened on the outside with the windows framed with metal rods. I loved the steep staircase that lead us to our own little corner of the beach. I loved everything about it.

But then again you will find my husband complaining about ‘this damn house.’

I don’t understand why does it bug him so much as it does? It was beautiful and a dream.

However when Alyssa handed me the key to this lovely house, she said that because Angelo didn’t like it as much, it was now his forever. It was almost five days already and I had no idea why was it so bad?

I loved the warm floors. I loved the old rugs. The old couch, the old television and old ratty air conditioning, the old dining table and everything.

I felt him behind me before my body reacted to his touch. On auto pilot my neck craned to the other side giving my husband the access he silently wanted the moment his lips touched my neck.

“Sweet wife.” Angelo mumbled taking my flesh between his teeth. One more to his hall of fame. I thought. “How long have you been up?”

“Hmm- ten minutes only.” I whispered, my eyes dropping close. “Where were you?”

“I went out for breakfast.” Angelo whispered against my neck. “However I was late so we have to opt with a little cheese and fruits. Baked breads are out.”

“How can you ever get breakfast when it’s almost lunch?” I hummed relishing his touch on my skin. “I missed you in bed.”

“Did you, now?” Angelo chuckled. His hand slowly sliding down from my waist, down between my legs. I winced from his touch on my tender flesh.

“Be gentle.” I whispered. “Too sensitive down- ohhh-”

Angelo had already slipped his hand under my nightie, separating my wet folds with his finger. Caressing my heat. “Sore?” He asked.

“Yes.” I whispered.

“How bad?” Angelo asked nuzzling my neck.

“Bad.” I agreed. “It hurts to walk.”

“Why didn’t you tell me last night?” I hear the frown in his voice as he turns me around to face him. The motion makes me wince. “Tadpole?”

I shrug, staring back into his eyes. “It didn’t hurt.”

“And so you didn’t bother to tell me.” He accuses shaking his head.

“It didn’t hurt, Angel.” I huffed. “I’m just a little sore. Give me a little time out, I’ll be fine.”

But my reassurance didn’t help my husband. He frustratedly pushed back a hand  through his hair. “And so she didn’t bother to tell me.” He mumbles again.

But then takes a step back and turns to walk toward the master bathroom. I hear the bathtub faucet turn on before Angelo emerges again.

“Now it is going to take an hour for the water to heat up.”

“The water is already hot from the sun, Angel.” I reply holding back a smile leaning against the rail of the balcony once again. Even though summer was almost over, the sun still shone bright and angry above our head.

I was so ready for Christmas. I thought. Our first Christmas.

“Come.” Angelo offered his hand in my waist gently turning me around. “The water will make you feel better.”

“Forever the sweetest, aren’t you?” I tease as he helps me out of my flimsy nightie revealing my naked self underneath.

I had forgone wearing panties after day two. A hundred ninety euro worth lace for one time use only before it’s shredded and ends up in rubbish? No thank you.

Angelo helped me inside the tub before stripping himself off, of the T-shirt and shorts he wore, getting into the tub behind me.

“Spread them for me.” Angelo whispered his fingers playing with my folds, separating them.

“I’m going to give her a bath.” He added making me chuckle. The water was warm- too warm for this weather, but I didn’t complain. It was a therapy for my sore muscles.

“Do you feel like going out?” My husband asked while he used a little pitcher to pour hot water between my spread legs. “For dinner? We haven’t left the house for days-”

“That’s because you turned me into a wanton woman for days.” I hummed wrapping my arms around his neck. “And I loved every second of it.”

“As much as I loved having you all to myself, sweet wife.” Angelo chuckled. “I’m afraid we are going to need real food and eventually get out of this house.”

“Maybe we should start by picking up our phones- ooh, fuck!” I gasp as I feel Angelo making slow and lazy circles around my clit, all the while pouring warm water to soothe away my pain.

“Shh. Relax, baby.” Angelo whispered. I felt him hard against me. “Let me take care of you, my love.”

But that wasn’t at all in my mind. I turned abruptly in his arms, a grin stretching over my features as I  lifted myself only to sink back into him. Angelo closed his eyes, head thrown back in esctasty.

“No. Let me take care of you, my love.” I whispered steadying myself with my hands on his shoulder.

“You feel like home, tadpole.”

“You feel like home, Angel.”

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Hello! We’re officially done with the book. Yay me? Yay us? Thank you to those who started and stayed till the end. Thank you guys! It means a lot, maybe more than I can put my words to.  The epilogue will be updated in an hour.

November

Epilogue (part one)

✨

three years later ✨

ANGELO’S  POV

It’s been two months. Two months of time that I wouldn’t trade for all the money in this world. Two months of pure and utter bliss.

Two months of utter and unending happiness and giddiness that made me feel whole and half at the same time. It was undeniably bittersweet.

It was as if I wanted the time to pass and stay still at the same time. It was as if my heart couldn’t hold the joy- all the joy I felt inside and was ready to burst out every now and then.

It was two months of falling in and soaring above high in love, adoration and utter tenderness. Such gentless that caressed and burned my heart all at once.

Ariel slept peacefully with her ass pressed snug against my hardened cock. Caressing her swollen cheek, my eyes drifted to the tiny little human in her arms. Smuggled close to the warmth of her chest.

This boy doesn’t understand anything or anybody other than his mama.

A total double standard team mate, if you will.

My boy’s heart and adoration and all his love belonged to his mother. Understanding nothing and nobody except Ariel and her gentle caress. Her tender loving. Her sweet voice.

I caressed, Icarus’s cheek, deep in thought. The little boy felt as if of was his food. And as if on auto pilot opened his mouth, to suckle.

Smiling at his little reaction, I looked at the time. It was already breakfast for little Icarus at six thirty. The last feeing was at four thirty.

Ariel was adamant to breast feed till six months before switching. So far we were good. She was perfectly healthy and so was the little boy.

Ariel slipped into her role of new motherhood effortlessly and gracefully. She didn’t complain about one little bit. Accept for her tits hurting once a while.

It was a complain, I longed to hear. Just to massage my sweet wife, kneed her full, swollen breasts with warm oil while hearing to her small moans and whimpers. God, how much I loved those little sounds she made, while unwinding.

“Sweetheart.” I urged, caressing my wife’s arm with my knuckles, feeling her soft soft skin, warmth radiating off her. Gently cooing her awake.

“Baby. It’s time.” I whispered close to her ear. “Sweetheart.” I urged softly once again. If she had only pumped the night before. I thought.

Hell, if I remembered to pump her the night before, she might have gotten a little more of sleep.

“Mmhmm.” Ariel moaned, lowly her ass shimming back against my cock once again. I twitched with the sharp inhale of a breath.

This woman was adamant to drive me mad. Even half asleep, she was a woman on a mission. A mission that I had been choosing to ignore for quite a while now.

“Honey.” I warned.

“Somedays-” I heard the half asleep woman whisper. “Someday of these days, I feel like you do not want me, husband of mine.”

I narrowed my eyes at her, while my knuckles still trailed up and down her arm.

“Pray, say why do you feel that way?” I asked as she sat up, Icarus pressed to her chest.

Watching me with narrowed eyes, her slipped off the flimsy strap of the nightgown, bareing her bosom, lifting the boy up so he could latch on immediately, As hungry as he was.

Slightly saddened by her ignorant deamenaour, I poured my wife a glass of water. I understand that along with the happiness and blessing that was showered upon us, there was some bindings that forced us to behave. However, the behavioral period was over a little while ago.

As much as Ariel knew that she was clear and safe, it took a little while for me to process everything. It is still taking time to do so. I do not want to hurt her anymore. Enough pains have been endured already and I wasn’t ready for her to go through more.

Ariel gulped the water in a go as I held the rim of the glass to her lips.

“Grazie.” She thanked after she was done. She still had that sad and abandoned tone in her voice.

A voice that made me want to take her in my arms and make slow sweet love to her, just for reassurance. Just for the sake of her relief that nothing had changed.

If anything, what we had was now was multiplied by hundred. Everything about her was now, once again just as new, just as lovely, just as erotic to me as the first time.

“How do you feel?” I ask pushing her dark curls away from her face, behind her shoulder.

“Unwanted.” She replied. “And ugly.”

“You are anything and everything but ugly, amore, mio.” I said truthfully.

Ariel sighed, and then slightly winced, pulling Icarus away from her. The boy was fully awake now. His pouty mouth still sucking air.

“He’s bit me.” Ariel said. “What a bad bad boy.”

Shaking my head, I helped my wife turn the boy so he could latch in to the other while she covered her self the other way.

“Ariel?” I placed a hand on her shoulder making her look at me with questionable eyes. Tears swirling in her baby brown orbs. They appeared as of melted chocolates.

“I’ve been cleared for two weeks.” She replies. Her time quivering “Two weeks! What are we doing, Angelo?”

I sighed. “Baby-”

“I don’t like feeling this way.” She whispers biting her fleshy bottom lip.

“What way?” I asked. “Why do you feel that way, Bubbles?”

“I don’t know.” She whispered. “I don’t know, Angelo. You’ve been awfully sweet and caring for the past two months and I fell in love ten times deeper with you than before but- I don’t know why I feel like you don’t want me anymore-”

I don’t want her anymore? If there is anything that I want to have over and over and over again, that would be her. Only her. My sweet wife. My sweet girl.

“That will never be the case, tadpole.” I reassure her. “You know that, don’t you baby?”

Ariel doesn’t answer.

“Don’t you know that, my love?” I ask again. My knuckles caressing her cheek.

“I don’t.” She whispers. “To an extent it makes me self conscious that it might be because my weight, or the stretch marks or- or that I haven’t waxed or maybe it’s cause I’m milking all day  and- and-”

I see fat tear drops rolling down her eyes soaking her pink flushed from frustration cheeks as she leans her head against the backrest of the bed, gently rocking baby Icarus getting him down to sleep.

“I just feel so- so rejected.” She whimpers. “I don’t like feeling this way. Unwanted. Undesired. Undesired by you!” She accuses. “I just want to go back into having what we had.”

“There will never be a time when I wouldn’t want you, Bubbles.” I reassure. “You know it. You know it, love. And- and, as much as I love you more than anything right now, as much as I desire you more than anything right now, want you more than anything, I can not help but think that what ever I feel will have me out of my control. That I will hurt you-”

Ariel makes a noise of frustration  tears still falling from her eyes. Icarus joins in to the party. Loud shrieks and cries leave his tiny little pair of lings as he throws his little fist here and there, desperate for his mother’s attention.

Swiftly as if her life was on peril, Ariel presses the boy to her chest, her wet cheek pressed to his beanie cover head.

“Shh.” She whimpers. “Shh. It’s okay. Mama is here. Hush now.”

Icarus’s lung doesn’t get tired so he doesn’t stop.

“Oh, baby. No!” Ariel whimpers, gently rocking Icarus on her arm. Tears coming down more forcefully from her eyes, as she so desperately tries to stop the cries of our baby. “Shh- don’t cry, love-”

“Here. Let me, for a while. Go wash yourself, sí?”“ I offer the woman. She let’s me, gently placing Icarus to my bare chest as I cup the back of his head standing up.

Ariel, gingerly climbs down from the bed. Her body adorned with a blush pink nightie. Lacy tops making up the cups of her breast. Fine silk cascading down to her knees, almost leaving to the imagination under that material of her nightie.

Fuck, she looked so sexy with everything a mess. Her hair unkempt and her eyes heavy with sleep. Her lips quivering and cheeks flushed. Not from a blush but from utter frustration. Over me.

I slowly pace the length of our room, rocking the little human while he calmed down after a minute. Or ten. I supposed his little lungs has reached their vital capacity and that my little man was getting tired from all the crying.

“You worry your mama way too much.” I mumble to the boy who now looked up at me with his large eyes. Water drops still lingering on his eyes. “Yeah. She gets worried even if you turn in your sleep. Yeah. You understand me do you, little man?”

My son made a sound that didn’t sound like anything. I pressed his head to my chest again.

“Is he going to sleep?” I asked my wife.

Ariel shook her head padding toward bed, while adjusting her nightgown. She looked annoyed about her dress of choice and quite possibly felt enraged by it.

“Remind me not to wear skimpy slutty nighties if you aren’t going to fuck me.” She snapped making me sigh once again. “I don’t like what I see in the mirror either.”

“She’s mad. So very mad at me.” I sigh pressing my forehead against my boys head who was awfully quiet after his short crying episode. “Hmm. Mama is so so sad. She doesn’t understand that papa may hurt her so bad. Yeah. What if papa crushes mommy, hmm? Who will we have then, with mommy so hurt?”

My son responds to me with a fist raised up his head and yawning.

“Am I boring you?” I gave him a mean look. “Huh? Papa’s love life bores you, does it?”

“Yaaaaw-” The little boy yawns once again, eyes screwing close as he stretches his little body.

“Right.” I sigh and then smile at my son.

I’m talking to a two month old who only cares about bring fed in every one hour and peeing and shitting to his heart content. No, he certainly has no curiosity about my love life doing down the ditch with every passing moment.

But no, my sweet certainly didn’t understand my delima. I don’t expect her to. She’s been off as long as I have been. However, the mood swings was still evident after her pregnancy. As her doctor had mentioned. It was most normal. Her hormones would take time to get back to normal, especially now that she was breast feading.

Icarus made a sound, stretching once again, wiggling in my arms.

“What is it, little guy?” I ask. “Do you need sleep?”

Icarus yawned again, darting out his little tongue looking for a possible food source before steeling down with another whine, making me chuckle.

Walking toward the window, with one hand pushing the blinds of one part away. The sun wasn’t up all the way yet, morning light flooded our bedroom, as I looked over the property, my boy settled on my chest.

Ariel’s pregnancy was a bittersweet experience. For the both of us.

She didn’t care about her missing period that month, it was shortly after one year anniversary. Usually Ariel didn’t bother much, given she missed a monthly every now and then from stress and her haemoglobin deficiency.

First month, she shrugged it off. Second month followed, nothing. She shrugged that off as well.

I was concerned about her deteriorating health. She would sway every time she got up. She wouldn’t feel like eating. I thought her anemia was getting worse and weakinig her. Maybe it was the increased stress from her dance routine and pressure of the show that was scheduled two weeks later.

Lo and behold, one morning she woke up, naked to the bits and rushed to the bathroom, throwing up her little guts out. Over and over. She couldn’t smell anything. Anything oily she would puke out. Temper ran on thin ice, emotion got the best of her.

A week later when she was so close to passing out every hour, I was adamant that it was time to head to a doctor. I have had enough of her I’m fines and I’ll be alrights. I had enough of her pretending that she was alright when she was so close to pass out every hour.

A reluctant Ariel and myself over the top mad, I drove us to her Doctor. Two blood tests later we sat on the ultrasound room, my insides bursting with an unnamed emotion.

Something I really couldn’t place at that time.

Ariel was timid, no doubt gone back to a time we both had left behind but knew had to face. No matter what.

Silently I held her hand when she was fidgeting with the hem of her dress. I hoped my gesture did something as mundane as giving her a silent reassurance.

I felt her warm tears on our intertwined hands. It made a crack inside my heart. It was the first time since our marriage and our relationship I felt that she did however felt inferior or insecure or just- heartbroken. Utterly heartbroken.

Maybe she never healed at the first place.

Her whispered little I’m sorry finally broke my heart into two. Sitting on USG room for somebody to attend us, my wife muttered two words that probably hurt my guts more than anything in this world. She has whispered ‘I’m sorry’

I wondered if she felt sorry for just carrying my child or just a child?

Did she not want to mother my child?

Did she not want to give me a chance at redemption?

To wash away my sins?

Questions- a thousand questions bothered me to the depth of my heart. Does she not want a baby with me?

Did she felt we weren’t ready? As if I wasn’t ready?

Was she ready to have a baby?

In response to her whispered apology  I whispered a thank you of gratitude and happiness. I whispered how much I loved her. I whispered how much i was proud of her that moment. I whispered that she and our baby, growing inside her was the most precious thing ever to me.

She wept, sobbed, she told me she loved me and I held her till the doctor was ready for her.

Even then on the ultrasound table, I held her hand as we together first glimpsed at our boy. Just a little pip.

I felt my heart swell with pride and joy. I was a proud husband when my wife danced on the biggest stages of the country. I felt my chest swell everytime she looked at me from the stages watching me smile down at her. I was proud to call her mine in front of the world.

And that day, on the USG room, I discovered a new side of myself. That day I was a father. And I was so very proud of my girl for making me one. And I was already in love with the little boy growing inside her.

I couldn’t explain how it felt. Even now I cannot explain how it feels as I hold my son to my chest, rocking him back on forth till his breathing calmed down.

“That’s my boy.” I said proudly, because for once he showed loyalty to his fellow specie and fell asleep on my arms. First time in his short life he fell sound asleep in my hold.

This boy was his mother’s little pet. But I’ve already said that. Ariel’s tenderness and care to our little boy, their bond was full of awe. It left me speechless every single time. And I wouldn’t change anything about him.

Just a little bit of more obligation and obedience toward me perhaps. Show me some more love. I feel left out from the duo of mother and son. But today he made me feel just as happy by drowning himself in sleep in my arms.

I placed Icarus in the middle of the bed. We didn’t have a basinet. Or a little cot for him.

Ariel wanted to be as close as possible to the little cry monster so giving him a basinet to sleep on was just out of the question. Rather when Blaire said a basinet came handy, Ariel was an inch away from bursting into tears telling her friend that she was just mean to even think of that.

Blaire shut up however didn’t came up with an excuse that every parent do use that. Even she did. But Blaire chose not to defend herself. Instead calmed the woman down with some ice cream.

I covered Icarus with his little blue and orange blanket that his nonna had knit him, his little chonky toy acting as a body pillow.

“You put him to sleep?” I heard the surprise on Ariel’s voice.

Her curls were pulled up in a knot bun and she had a robe on, on top of her tiny little almost transparent nightie.

“Yeah.” I replied. Pride oozing from my pores.

Yes. I was do damn proud of myself. Because unlike Ariel, I didn’t slip into fatherhood as smoothly and powerfully. It came to me rather messy and tiresome. But I was learning. And my wife was an angel when I needed help.

“Not bad, Capo Bestone.” She replied, with a little. “Not bad.”

“I know.” I grinned caressing my boy’s plumped up cheek, adorable big eyes closed, mouth pulled into a pout as he sleeps on his side facing me.

I hear the snap of the camera, making me instantly look up. Ariel snaps another of my bewildered expression.

“Cute.” She mumbles watching the display of the digital camera before beaming up at me and pointing the camera again taking another snap.

“Put that down.” I warned my head getting up from bed, glancing at the clock.

The camera snapped again.

“Don’t.” I warned again. Quite recently my darling sweet wife had picked up a rather unusual hobby that she shared with my mother. Like mama Ariel couldn’t stop taking pictures. The digital single lens reflex camera was a gift from mama.

A gift that my wife put to proper use.

“Fuck that’s hot.” Ariel mumbles.

“Stop with it already, tadpole.” I warned pushing a hand through my hair ready to shower with a hope to calm my self- my dick down and dress up for the day.

He misses being home.

“I need a vibroegg.” Ariel sighs taking a seat on the bed. The camera beside me. Turned off.

“A what?” I asked, my brows pulling into a frown.

“A vibroegg.” She repeated.

Taking two steps toward her, leaned down. “And what is that, darling?” I teased, cupping her jaw.

“You know?” She asks. “Little egg like thingy that shakes and vibrates like mad? I put it against my pussy, maybe inside to satiate my raging libido because clearly my husband is utterly uninterested.”

“Ariel.” I warned, not wanting to go back to the discussion.

“What?” She challenges. “What are you going to do about it? It’s already shipped. Amazon works wonders with delivery these days-”

Icarus was up again before I left for work, placing a kiss on my wife’s mouth. She reluctantly accepted making no attempts to kiss back.

My son on the other hand, took the kiss on his head with rather enthusiasm.

See? He’s learning to be a good boy for me these days.

On my way to the office, I dialed the gynecologist who Ariel was seeing. Ariel’s delivery wasn’t really that of a rainbow and unicorns.

It was tough. She couldn’t go through a normal one. C-section it was. She lost a lot of blood. Baby was blue from the chord wrapped around his throat. It was hectic and a long eight hours for me.

To a point, it made Ariel so very fragile. She couldn’t walk for three days after the c-section. Icarus needed to be brought to her while she managed to fed him and hold him for a while, while himself being a resident of NICU.

It pained me to see my girl in so much pain, even though she handled it like the lioness she was. Ten days later we were out and into our home. Safe. And sound. Happy and healthy.

But yet, the paranoia of hearing Ariel’s scream while she tried for a normal delivery was to leave me completely. She wouldn’t dilate. Her pains were raising too much. Too much.

I was scared that maybe the littlest roughness on my part may hurt her. I read that the first time after the delivery hurts.

And I was up for anything but that.

Ariel’s closeness to me, kept me awake constantly. There was something about how motherhood had embraced her with open arms.

She was so very sexy these days without even trying. She wore easy access clothes. That’s a different thing that they weren’t for me.

Her tits were always swollen and heavy. Her curves were more defined. Those hips have definitely widened by a margin. She made my dick jolt up and twitch whenever she as much as breathed. Or massaged her tits because they were sore. And they were sore very often.

I was fighting to keep my self down around her very second, but yet my wife feels like she needs a little toy to satisfy her raging libido.

I will show her what she needs to satisfy her not so good girl libido.

I will show her what her pussy really needs.

“Mama.” I greeted she picked up on the second ring. The sound of soap opera TV shows evident in the background.

“Hey bub.” My mother chirped but slightly worried. It might have to be with the fact that I don’t really call her as early as around seven in the morning. Ever.

“Is everything okay?” She asked. “Ariel, Icarus? Are they okay?”

“They’re fine.” I replied. “Icarus is fine.”

“Well-”

“I was wondering if you and dad would be up for babysitting the night.” I asked. “I want to-”

“For real?” She exclaimed excited.

“Yeah.” I replied fumbling with the paper weight on my desk. “If night give us a little date night opportunity-”

“I’ll pick him up.” She added. “Now?”

I sighed. Her excitement was way too high. “Maybe around seven? He won’t have enough food if you pick him up now-”

“Right.” I could hear the pout in her voice. “I’ll call Cora. We can have a baby date night. Maybe Blaire can come too.”

“That would be great.” I smile. “Thanks maa.”

“Awe, don’t be that way. I want to spend time with my little adorable grandchild too. Did I say you weren’t as healthy as him? God you were such a naughty baby-”

Ariel’s POV

My favorite part of everyday was the early noon. Because it was that time only my little adorable baby boy would keep his eyes open more than sixty minutes. 

For such a little growing boy, he sure slept a lot. It had worried me in the beginning. While panic and anxiety got the best of me, I ended up calling Alyssa, almost crying. The lady who had very gently explained that babies were to sleep. But then I called mama too. Just for reassurance.

My worries subsided after I heard her calm voice. But then again, the surprises and startles of motherhood was quite very new to me still.

I became worried in every little thing. My heart would beat faster if only little Icarus would fall a little out of routine. However, with the worries came tremendous joy and happiness. A type of happiness that I couldn’t explain and hadn’t felt before.

Icarus, was sure to have his daddy’s eyes. A little swirl of pitch black. I would like to think that his button nose was from me, Instead of a straight aristocrat nose from his daddy, he took up my nose. I was glad.

Because, trust me after carrying my little bag of happiness for nine months and five days only for him to come out looking like the xerox copy of his daddy at one day old, was- surprising.

Yeah. That’s all.

Icarus was exceptionally playful and active in the early noon.  I had only just fed my little love and now he was in my arms as I rocked him back and forth. Our tune of Debussy played in the background from the inbuilt speakers.

I loved it. Baby loved it. Angelo loved it. It was our tune.

And then there was Angelo. My sweet sweet darling of a husband. As tender and loving and careful as he was in the last three months, his treatment of a glass doll had equally infuriated me.

I know my outburst wasn’t justified. The man was only trying to do- and doing what he felt right, however, his tender advances was no longer welcome. Gone were the days where I would want him to rub my feet Because they hurt.

Gone were the days where I would be messy. I mean, I tried to clean up after myself, alright? Yeah.

However, witnessing Angelo accepting fatherhood with open arms was one of the most dreamy things I had ever witnessed.

I am pretty sure I fell in love with my husband a thousand times more when I saw him with our boy the first time. Shirtless giving baby Icarus a skin to skin, all the while smiling down at his little boy.

That moment I knew, that a father holding his first born was quite rather a prideful moment. And I was glad to be able to give that to him.

Thinking back to this morning, I smiled as Icarus yawned in my arms again. His lips pluckered into a tiny pout and his eyes dropped close.

The sight of Angelo and baby Icarus was something else. He loved the boy. His boy.

Our boy. Our sweet little man.

“Are you ready to sleep already?” I asked pouting. “You naughty little boy. How come so early today, hmm? I haven’t even sung you a rhyme yet.”

Icarus opened up his big eyes.

“What?” I pouted at him. “Baby doesn’t want to hear a church rhyme today? No? Okay. Okay- mama gets you, babe.” I sigh.

“Don’t you even want to play with Coco and Poods for a while?” I ask my little boy who showed no sign of interest. “Alright. Alright, nap time, I suppose.”

Epilogue (part two)

✨

continued from previous part

✨

ARIEL’S

POV

Around late afternoon I had placed Icarus on his makeshift bed on the living room floor on a cushion mattress and a plastic sheet underneath a cotton sheet, while massigng my feet with a warm massage oil. Coco and Poods were very fond of our newest addition to the family away well.

While Poods was playful around baby Icarus, Coco kept watching him with wonder and utter care. Occasionally pushing Poods away from Icarus when he was dozing off to a slumber.

Life was where I wanted it to be. We still lived in the house where Angelo had abruptly brought me in, one day. We still shared the same bed we used to three years ago.

It was then a knock on the door startled me. But then the door opened revealing Alyssa. She was still the very raident woman I had met. Just as charming as she was.

“Hello mama.” She chriped walking in. Her hands carrying two Prada bags and another bag of Agent Provocateur.

“Hello, mama!” I grinned back at the older woman pushing my feet down. “How are you?”

“I’m fantastic!” She chriped holding up a finger. “Also I’m the happiest because it’s our fist sleepover~”

“Sleepover?” I frown.

God! Sleepover? God! I haven’t cleaned the guestrooms or haven’t turned down the sheets of the beds and-

“Sí. Sí.” Alyssa nodded. “Lorenzo will be here with dinner, later. But that’s none of your business.”

I frown.

“Your business is to go and get ready for a date night.” She thursted the bags at me.

“Date night?” I frown.

Alyssa completely ignores me. “And because I’m such a good mother-in-law, I also matched you a set from your favourite lingerie- and a few more if you will, but that doesn’t matter. I’ve also got you cold wax strips, so go on wax your bits and get ready.”

“What are you on about?” I laugh.

“What I am on bout is you need to get out of those cute pajamas and don lace. Come on, babe. Up. Up. Up you get. Let me play with baby Icarus for a while!”

The dress was not so modest. With a deep V neck the satin black garment fell some inches below my knees, fitted against my body like a silky sheath, held by a thin strap of golden Cuban chain.

Said like done a number of lace were assorted in separate blush pink boxes. While I didn’t assort through the most of those, I found what was supposed to be only piece of garment under the dress. A pair of almost sheer black lace.

My undies collection went from delicate sexy and taunting lace to cotton over the last year. They were however comfortable but not lace.

Lace- it spoke a different language.

Happy with my minimal makeup, red painted lips, pinned back hair body donning the black silk slip dress, paired with five inch red bottoms, after almost I year, I felt as if the old Ariel stared back at me from the other side of the mirror.

Undoubtedly I had put on some weights like every other mother. But I was loosing it quickly too. Alyssa and mama Coralyn had admonished me enough times telling me that loosing weight so fast wasn’t really healthy.

My best friend had accused me of starving myself and blamed my chronic yoga for the weight loss. All of which had earned me a rebuking.

After I was polished and shiny like a new penny, I gave my baby boy a generous cuddle to make up for the lost time. I have never left Icarus with someone else before. Not even for a few minutes let alone a whole night.

As much as I know that he won’t have any trouble with feeding because I had already pumped enough bottles and I knew as long as somebody gave him cuddles and rocked him in their arms, he would fall asleep. He won’t most likely realize that I was gone but then again- I haven’t been away from him apart from bathroom breaks.

But I knew Alyssa will handle my little boy just fine because he had handled his daddy. How hard can one more be for a night. Right? Right.

After Alyssa promised that she would call if anything was wrong or Icarus was fussy, I felt the house- reluctant yet a little relived.

Bertie drove me to Angelo’s office and wished me a good evening with a wink that made me grimace at him.

Bertie moved out of the outhouse to a smaller three bedroom house three minute away from us. He had met a nice lady and settled, finally. She was five months expecting with their first daughter.

Bertie being the dad to a little girl just drawled out an awe from whoever knew him. It was cute. Hannah, Bertie’s wife who made the best butter cookies in the world was a darn sweet lady who owned two dogs herself. And so she would come over every now and then to give Icarus a coddle and for the dogs to have a play date.

Often Icarus, I, Coco and Poods would walk to Hannah’s to deliver some cream puffs and doggie play date.

My heels clicked again at the floor as I made my way into the building. The receptionist was ready to leave for the day.

“How can I help you?” She asked not looking up from stuffing her necessities in her bag.

“It’s fine.” I replied placing my clutch on the desk and dialing Angelo’s cell. “I’m not going up or anything.”

The receptionist has to be new given that I hadn’t seen her once before today.

“Sure.” The girl muttered almost as if bored and waiting for the remaining minutes of her shift to be over. With my phone against my ears, I tapped my heel calf feet on the ground. Come on, baby. Pick up~

“Look at you, muffin bottom.” I heard my best friend’s voice. Dressed in a maroon pant suit, she showcased a pair of dangling diamond earrings with a pear shaped red beryl charm at the bottom.

I knew it!

I knew I didn’t loose them! How- what a mean little-

I winked a naughty wink. “Look at you missus corporate.”

She fanned herself walking toward me. Her Prada satchel bag on her hand. “You look good.” She complimented eyeing my dress. “For once you’re out of pajamas.”

“Yep.” I replied pursing my lips and nodding. “Like my dress?”

“Turn.” Blaire whirled her finger around. “Let me see how your ass looks.”

I did a turn for her. “Lookie good?”

“Lookie sexy as fuck.” Blaire winked slapping my ass. “Out for a date?”

“Yep.” I reply. “Just waiting on my date.”

“That’s good babe.” Blaire smiles. “It’s good to see out of your pajamas.”

“I feel good out of my pajamas, you know?” I sighed. “Who knew?”

“I know right?” Blaire looked at her watch. “I have to run, babe. Have fun. Okay? I’ll give Icarus a fat smooch from you. Maybe five because he has such soft cheeks.”

I narrow my eyes at the woman, impeccably dressed in a business outfit.

“Don’t tell me you have no idea about the little sleepover?” She naughtily grins.

“I do.” I reply. “Have fun though. And see if he pooped. He didn’t poop today. And warm the milk a lil before-”

“I know, Bubbles.” Blaire says placing a hand on my shoulder. “I know. Go enjoy your night. Okay?”

“Thank you, babe.”

It takes two more minutes for Angelo to come down after Blaire leaves. And when he does, he’s absolutely clueless of me waiting for him. As I stand leaning against the reception desk, I watch  Angelo stride out of the lift, a man greets him to whom he greets back. Shakes hand with a couple of other men.

Pushes a hand through his hair, absentmindedly striding toward the repection. Maybe I was a little early.

Alyssa did say six thirty. It was six thirty nine? I had sucesfully waited a whole nine minutes for my dear husband.

“Why, don’t you look dapper, signore?” I traded when his eyes landed on me. Half a smile spreading over his mouth.

“Why, signorina, you don’t look so bad yourself.” My sweet husband shamelessly roams his eyes all over me.

“I’m not sure my husband would be pleased about your eyes wondering about, signore.” I teased.

“Your husband must be a prude.” He smirks.

“My husband is quite lovely, thank you.” I purse my lips at him. “I love him very much.”

“Do you now?” Angelo asks, his arms crossed over his chest. “Does he give you what you desire, signorina?”

What a little- “Sí. And so much more.”

“Well lucky bastard, that one.” He says, stepping closing putting an end to our flirts. “I’ve missed you so much, baby.” He whispered. His hot minty breath tingling my skin.

“I couldn’t think about anything else but you, in that dress, tadpole.” Angelo whispered. “So fucking sexy-”

“Yeah?” I breathed. My hand resting on his waist, clutching the ends of his suit jacket. “This was a good surprise.”

“Was it?” He asks pulling his face away, slightly. “Dinner?”

“Yes, please.” I whisper as he placed a feather kiss on my mouth.

The ride to Palazzo Caracciolo was a short one. However, long filled with anticipation. I felt as if I was new to this. As if I had never done this before.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Angelo asked, his one hand covering mine on my lap, the other on the steering wheel of the car.

“Jitters.” I laughed a little. “It’s fine.”

“Sweetness.” Angelo chuckled. “I’m sure, Icarus is fine-”

“It’s not Icarus.” I whisper. I know he’s fine. He’s in capable hands. It’s him. It’s us.

As much as I was demanding the last few days, I couldn’t help but feel the little bloom of nervousness inside me.

“What is it, love?” He asks. His voice ever so tender. “Are you nervous?”

“A little.” I admitted. “A tad bit, maybe? Oh- I don’t know, Angel.”

“Don’t be nervous.” Angelo whisper, brining my mouth to his lips. “I promise to be nice and not to knock you up.”

“Oh, you seem to love that, didn’t you?” I tease in a whispery tone. “Felt quite proud of yourself those nine months, didn’t you?”

Angelo grins. “I promise, I’ll let you breathe for some moths before that pride returns on full force, amore mio.”

I shake my head. A flush taking over my features. “Brute.” I whispered.

“I love you more when you’re pregnant, sweetheart.” My husband mutters, my hand still on his lips held by his free one. “I loved your appetite for me. I loved how much of a little wild cat you had turned into. Adored it.”

Our dinner was set out in a little private garden corners with our own twinkling lights and music. Chardonnay and a simple dish of pasta centred around our dinner. There was no appetizer.

Because, well, Angelo is adamant that I only eat appetizer and skip the real mean and there was tirmisu for desert. Because, Capo Bestone Giovanni was on a mission to fatten his wife right up.

While dinner was filled with sweet nothings, and back and forth flirting and a sweet little doze of red wine- (thank God that I had pumped out milk before) and a lovely desert that my darling husband fed me with his fork.

“Thank you for tonight.” I whispered when Angelo held out his hand for me to get up from the chair I occupied.

“Night is not over yet, sweet wife.” He whispered with a cheshire grin. “Come. I have suite booked for us.”

“A suite?” I tested the word.

He really had it all planned, didn’t he?

I suppose he took my little outburst this morning rather serious. I bite the inside of my cheek.

“Sì. Una suite per la mia dolce regina.” ( Yes. A suite for my sweet Queen.) He whispered. A teasing smile on his mouth. “Come.”

“Angel.” I whispered placing my hand on his. “Mi dispiace di essermi comportato così stupidamente stamattina.  Non volevo- “ (I’m sorry for acting so stupid this morning. I didn’t mean to-)

“Tesoro, sappiamo entrambi che avevo bisogno di una piccola spinta per presentarmi.  È stato necessario.  Ti prego, dimmi per quanto tempo dovrò ignorare l’ustione per la mia bellissima e splendida moglie che afferma che le farò del male?” He raises an eyebrow. 

(Sweetheart, you and I both know that I needed a little push to rile me up. It was necessary. Pray tell me how long shall I ignore the burn for my beautiful, gorgeous wife claiming that I will hurt her?)

“It was absolutely necessary. Because I couldn’t see you wearing that little nightie for another night and have you sleep beside me with your little plump ass snuggled on my cock. I was too close to loose my sanity, darling.”

“Have you planned this for long?” I whispered pushing myself closer to him. “It wasn’t because of this morning?”

“Sweetheart, I had planned this for a while. Sí. I wanted it to be nice and sweet yet so fucking good. I wouldn’t want to rush you after you made me the happiest and luckiest man in the world, mia regina.”

I flush from his words.

“Then let’s go, Capo Bestone.” I bit my bottom lip. “Show me what you have up your sleeve.”

My back hit the closed door of the lover’s suite as I struggled to push off the jacket Angelo wore. “God. Get it off!” I demanded being impatient as I was right now. He undid his tie, swishing the material away from his neck and onto the floor, before removing his jacket.

Me? I had my palms pressed against the door and was breathing deep. The chain straps had fallen from my shoulder long ago. My whole body hummed an awakening. Craving the touch of it’s lover. As if his touch was the sensation it had remembered yet forgotten.

“Sweet wife.” Angelo breathed cupping both of my cheek. “You’re exquisite.”

Warm lips crashed down to mine in a fierce passion. Lips and tongue, tasting of our sweet desert and the wine we had earlier. My hands flew to his neck as I steadied myself on the heels I sported and clung to my dear husband for the life of me. His mouth unforgiving as he kissed me, really kisses me after so long.

It wasn’t tender, it wasn’t sweet. It was raw. It was full of carnal desire and need. Need for me. Want for me. I melted against him and a came alive like fire at the same time. Fiercely, matching him for his fervour, I kisses him back.

A low growl erupted from the dept of his chest as his hands moved to my shoulder, pressing me against the wooden door, before pulling away from our kiss. Breathless, our eyes bore to the other.

“So fucking gorgeous.” Angelo whispered, harshly. “Take off your dress for me, sweetheart.” He comanded. “Strip for me.”

Who was I to deny his husbandly rights? With a not so sweet smile on my face, I bit my lower lip, moistened my abused flesh with my tongue, watching Angelo stand before me, breathing all messed up as he intently eyed my actions.

“Like this?” I asked as I played with the strap of my very expensive slip dress with one hand, while the other rand down from my neck, tantalizingly slow, down my chest, my full tits, my almost flat stomach.

“Ariel.” My husband warns.

“Yes, my love?” I teased taking a step closer to him. “I want to make you feel good too, my love.” And so, I pushed down the straps holding my dress down my arms, tugged on the material and let it fell around my ankles.

Angelo took steps forward urging my to take some back, placing me flush against the door once again. “Exquisitely beautiful, sweet wife.”

“Take off your shirt too.” I wshipered. Breathless to his close proximity. Angelo undid the buttons of his white burbury shirt, letting the material fall on the floor.

“Your pants.” I breathed. “Please.”

My husband awarded me with a smirk, abruptly turning me around so I faced the wooden door. “Provocateur.” He whispered. His fingertips feathering along the thin strap of my thongs, fingering the tiny bows at the side of black ribbon.

“I remember these in white, darling.” He whispers. His voice dangerously seductive. “On that night. Do you remember, my love?”

“How am I to forget our first night, sweet husband?” I whisper as his hand, oh so slowly circles my body, trancing his knuckles down the translucent lacy top of the panties. “You-”

“I ripped them off. Yes.” Angelo rasped. “I remember. And after all these time, I still have those shreds. Did you know that sweet wife? That I kept your shredded panties on my drawer?”

Shameless.

I whimper as Angelo’s hand slip inside the lacy bits of my panties. His slightly cooler flesh meets my hot- hot heat. Burning for his touch. Weeping for him.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re shorn.” He chuckles. “And dripping. Oh so sweet, my love.”

“Angel-” I whispered feeling his mouth on my neck. My hairs pushed over my shoulder. “Please-”

“Please?”

“Don’t tease-”

“No?”

“No.”

“What am I to do then?” He asked. One long finger separated my folds, trailing down to my entrance. I was dripping and ready. But yet, my husband was adamant to tease me.

“Oh, Angel-” I gasped as I felt his finger enter me. I clenched. Angelo hissed.

“Oh, you like that baby?” He rasped against my ear. “Can you take one more?”

“Mm-hmm.” I agreed pushing myself against him. My ass snuggling his hardening girth.

Two fingers snuggled inside me, as Angelo pumped them in and out. My wetness leaked down my thighs, my hands on the door, lungs trying to breathe to their capacity.

“Oh baby, so tight.” Angelo hummed. “Are you going to clench my cock as hard? Hmm?”

“Oh-”

“Hmm, sweetheart?” He asked but his fingers lefts me immediately. Abruptly I was turned around, lips came crashing down to mine, as Angelo hoisted my leg up, still clad in heels and hooked it around his waist.

“I want you to tell me if anything hurts, sweetness.” He said, pulling away from the kiss. “Hmm?”

I nodded. “Promise.”

“Such a good girl.” I heard the whisper as my eyes dropped close, a flush rose to my cheeks when I felt Angelo’s girth bared and rubbing his tip along the length of my drenched slit, tugging roughly on my panties. The harsh rip made me wince.

“So wet for me, sweetheart?” He chuckled. “So fucking wet and ready.”

“Yes.”

“Take me, baby.” He whispered against my neck. “Like the good wife you are for me.”

It felt as if somehow he had gotten even bigger. Angelo slowly slid himself inside, I felt as if all over again, it was my first time. A little wince left me, but Angelo’s caress made it better, as his free hand slid between us, rubbing my clit, getting my body to relax for him. To take him.

“Relax for me, sweetheart.” Angelo whispered. “Relax, that’s my girl. That’s my sweet girl, relax for me. Let it go, baby. Feel me, that’s it, love.”

“Yes, that’s it.” Angelo groaned again pulling himself back so only his tip stayed sung inside me. “More?”

“Yes, please.” I breathed, my hands clamped around his biceps, eyes closed.

He pushed himself in once again. Groaning in pleasure. “Again?”

“Yes.”

Out and then he slowly pushed himself in.

“Angelo, please.” I whispered, the burning need for him was now replaced by a burning pain from his slow ministriaons. “Please, pick up-”

“Baby, I’ll-”

“You won’t.” I gasp out as I feel him slide out again. Tantalizingly slow, achingly catious. No. I wanted him to fuck me.

“I want you tell me, if it hurts, sí?”

“Yes, oh- God. Please.”

Angelo pulls out completely, leaving me empty. My eyes snap open as I frown at the man. A questioning gaze that makes him chuckle.

“To bed, darling.” He whispered, picking me up. Bride like. “Let’s do you properly.”

Oh, thank the God above!

With my head on the pillow, Angelo completely looses his slacks and boxers before climbing on top of me. My legs part upon instinct as my man hooks them around his waist and leans over to kiss me.

“Slowly, sí?” Angelo hums, sliding in again. “I want to feel you around my cock, mia regina. I want you to clench and cream around me.”

“Angel-”

“That’s right baby.” He hums. “Do you feel me?”

“Yes. Oh God, yes! Fuck- go faster.”

“Oh baby.” He coes but the. Picks up his pace. Sliding in and out, like a man on a mission. His thrusts become measured and hard. Reaching deeper into me. As if trying to fuck my breaths out of my lungs. “Feels good, baby?”

“Yes!!!” I hissed. “Fuck, right there, Angel!”

“Oh baby. Baby!” Angelo breathes. “Clench.”

I flex my pelvic muscles win wincing a little from his measure, long and deep thrusts.

“That’s my good girl.” Angelo hisses. “Yesss! Fuck-”

With every thrust, I feel my body buck into the bed, the springs of the mattress protests as my stomach muscles clench around Angelo’s girth, he hisses and picks up his face. Measured stroked become more determined, hard and fast. Long and deep, strangling out cries after cries of carnal pleasure and satisfaction from me.

“Yeah, you like that, tadpole?” He asks, his mouth dropping to my tits, tongue circling around my left nipple before taking my heard peak into his mouth, humming in pleasure, the movement of his hips constant as my head trashes about the pillow hands fist the sheet, body jerks and back arches up as I reach my high. His teeth pulling on my nipple- oh so sensitive-

But Angelo- Angelo doesn’t stop, he coaxes one more climax out of me while reaching his high, girth swelling up and twitching inside me as his thrusts become sloppier while low, deep grunts escapes his mouth, flooding me with his essence.

It takes us a while to regain our breaths, Angelo’s face drops between my breasts, while he pulls out of me, slightly soft.

Caressing his cheek, I urge him to raise his face before capituring his lips with mine. “Hmmm.” I hummed. “That was good.”

“We’re not finished.” My husband wickedly smiled before raising to sit up on his knees. His girth already lengthning. Well-

“Turn.” Angelo orders, but before I can obliges, he flips me on my front. “Hands and knees, baby.” He rasps against my ears, leaning down. I feel his erection pressed against my thigh as a needy whimper escapes me.

With my hair coiled around Angelo’s wrist and face firmly pressed against the pillow, he takes me from behind.

Oh God, and it feels so good.

ANGELO’S POV

By the time morning rolled around, I had gotten a most of two hours of sleep.

Ariel fell into a exhaustion induced slumber after four o’clock in the morning. Too many a rounds of our coitus actives later we finally caught our breaths and spend a hot minute looking into the other’s eyes.

Early Saturday morning had brought me a hum of satisfaction throughout my body. As well as my mind. By the time the clock turned to seven thirty, I took a shower and drove to mama’s please to pick up Icarus.

The suite was booked for the weekend for us. And as much as I would love to enjoy my wife all by myself, we also had a two month old who was fussy without his mama. It doesn’t matter that his food was pre pumped and he slept when he did, or he had a clean nappy under his bum.

Mama was all he needed and wanted. And this morning as I picked up my fussy boy from Mama’s, it felt as if I was what he needed too.

The moment, I had him in my arms, he had stopped fussing and stuck his fist into his mouth, suckling. He must be hungry. His big eyes looked up at me, blinking.

My sweet boy.

“Look at him.” Mama cooed. “So precious. I suppose he wants his breakfast so he was fussy.”

I nodded, looking down at the bundle in my arms. “Well, he maybe just misses his mama.”

“Maybe.” Maa smiles caressing his cheek lovingly. “He’s so beautiful, Angelo. And you- I’m so proud of you, too.”

“Thank you mama.” I whispered placing a kiss on her cheek. “Better get going before this little man starts crying again.”

“Drive safe.” Mama smiled before placing a kiss on Icarus head and walking us to the car.

The drive took almost twenty minutes and more five to check into the suite. And with every second, Icarus was growing impatient. Even with Debussy playing in the car, my little man had wailed till his lungs allowed.

“Just a minute now, boss.” I muttered inserting the key car into the slot. “Just a minute.”

My son, impatient as he was wiggled in my arm, his tiny fist flying about as much as his strength could muster.

“There is mama.” I said to him as I pushed open the sore, crossing the foyer and sitting parlour into the bedroom. “See? There is she. Sleeping. Yes.”

Icarus whined again as I rubbed my nose along the length of his. “Now, if you’re a good little boy and do what you need to without walking up mommy, she can get some much needed sleep.” I said. “Can we agree on that? Yeah?”

I finally laid an agitated Icarus by Ariel and exposed her bosom for him to latch on. Ariel stirred.

What a bad boy, not keeping his side of promise.

“Hey.” She whispers sitting up, instantly. “Hey, baby boy. Here. Here.”

Icarus as if complianing to his ma, started to wail as soon as I placed him on Ariel’s arm.

“Oh no, my sweet little man. Don’t cry. No. No. No, there. There, my sweetness.” Ariel cooed gently bouncing him and holding him to her exposed breast. Icarus latched on. His tiny fist resting on her chest.

“There. Needn’t you cry anymore.” She whispered caressing his plump cheek with her knuckles. “Why must you cry?”

I a glass of water to Ariel’s mouth as she muses our boy. Gulping the water she leaned back with Icarus feasting his breakfast.

“Did he cause too much trouble?” She whispered to me.

“No, darling.” I whispered sitting on the edge of the bed, placing a kiss on her head. “He was a good boy. He wailed just by seeing you.”

Ariel giggled.

“How are you feeling?” I asked, moving the dark ringlets of her hair back.

“I’m feeling like a woman in love.”

I smile kissing her lips. “Are you in love?”

“Very much.” She whispered. “Are you?”

“Very much so, sweetheart.”

To the readers, Accept my heartfelt thanks and love for coming along to this journey with me. I hope you loved venturing through it as much as I loved creating it.

November

Epilogue (extended)

“One…Two…Three…Four…Eight… Ten…Five…no- no. No.” I hear the little soul mumble, seated on my thigh, an array of colorful numbering blocks in front of her as she struggles to arrange them accordingly.

According to her that is.

Glancing at the last stack of papers, I pull them toward me with my free hand that is not engaged in keeping the little person protected in her posture.

“One…Two…Five…” She humphs for the nth time.

The small sigh will be in almost a second followed out by a tiny sniffle.

Any moment now.

“Three, sweetheart.” I correct my daughter before her little sigh becomes a little sob.

“Three…Four…Five?” She stares up at me, doe like eyes blinking for my approval.

“Yes, darling.” I say placing a kiss on her head before signing my name at the bottom of the paper, ending the paperwork for the day.

“Seven…”

“Six and Seven, honey.” I say.

“Otaay. Six…Seven…Eight… Nine and Ten!” She squeals.

“That’s brilliant, love.” I say placing a kiss on top of her head making her cuddle back to me, filled with tremendous pamper and delight.

“You did splendid, bunny rabbit.” I say offering her another kiss.

“Grazie, papá.” She smiled rearranging those blocks again to put them in order. Her tiny hands working profusely on the blocks that was too big to fit into her little hand.

“How about-” I suggest. “We take a tiny break and eat first, huh?”

Annalisa huffed. “Alweady?”

“Yes, sweetheart.” I say pulling the plates of jam filled bread toward us, that were prepared for her breakfast. “We have to eat, don’t we?”

My little darling gave out a whine leaning her head back against my chest. A pout resting on her face.

The jam filled breads were cut in bear head and cat shapes with chocolate decorations.

“Here you go, love.” I offered her a cat bread.

“I’that mango, papá?” She asks scrunching her nose and pulling her head back.

“I have no idea, bunny.” I say. “You have to take a bite to find out.”

“Take a bite.” She turns on my lap pushing the bread toward me. “Peweeese!”

“Sweetheart-”

“Fo mweee?” She pouts. “Pewese?”

Fine. Fine! The things I have to do.

“Alright.” I say. “Alright.”

Taking a bite I reassure the little mad creature that it was indeed mango jam and the rest assured assured, she ate two of the four breads easily before asking for her sippy.

Years prior I thought, the kids only wanted to eat and sleep. Recently, I realized that the hardest thing to do is feed a baby.

Correction, it was the hardest job to feed a fussy Annalisa who had just woken up demanding for food herself.

“Here.” I hand her the bright yellow water pot that has a silicon straw adjusted and watch her take a generous sip of the drink.

“Eek!” She makes a face. “It not water, papá.” Anna whines.

“It’s juice, honey.” I assure. “Juice is good, darling.”

Goodness me.

“No like, papá.” She pushes the bottle away. “Just wan water.”

Sighing, I turn off my computer placing the baby down on her feet making her pout.

“Come on now, bunny rabbit.” I give her an eye. “Give me a minute. Why don’t you arrange your toys?” I ask.

“Oouuutaaay.” She sing songs, walking toward the centre of the office room and begins putting the toys she had scattered around in the stroller like basket while I finished putting an exact date to the meeting regarding a new deal and sending Irina the email.

“Come along, Little rabbit.” I called for Annalisa making my way toward the door of the office room.

Ignoring the fact that she is leaving her counting blocks scattered about on top of my desk and her toy basket on the floor and running, toward me.

But then again, it’s been like that for a while.

I pick her up, setting her on my arm and kiss her little button nose.

Annalisa giggles merrily before resting her head on my shoulder. Still smiling. Still so very heavy will sleep but so full of energy at the same time.

Sometimes I can’t just bring myself to tell her anything.

Nothing at all. I can’t especially bring myself to tell her no. The word just won’t leave my mouth. Everytime, I would try to say no to her, the image of her big eyes shining with tears and rosebud mouth quivering, ready to cry, would wedge it’s way into my head.

And I could possibly endure anything and everything except, Annalisa’s quiet tears. My baby girl didn’t sob or wail or throw fits like most other kids. Neither would she have mean tantrum episodes like her brother.

She silently shed tears and hid whenever’s anybody asked what’s wrong. It broke my heart. And so I did everything in my power to make sure she never had to ahead a tear. Not even a drop.

The fact leaves me confused more than often because I fail to find a logical reasoning behind my behavior toward my daughter. I just want to protect my girl. Save her. Keep her safe.

Give her whatever she wants so she doesn’t venture about places. I just want to keep her in a safe heaven.

“There you are.” I say stepping out of the office room making sure I lock the door from the unwanted intruders that prowl the hallways and make our way downstairs and into the kitchen.

I pour Annalisa a cup of water and watch her take generous sips of her drink all the while looking at the arranged sugar cookie jar, longingly. Before my baby little girl can ask for one, I hand her a cookie and watch her face light up with happiness.

“Ou, Grazié, papa!” Anna squeaks taking a nibble of the snack. “I wove cookiee!”

With a kiss on her head, I pick her up once again from the counter where she was seated on.

“You want to go see mamá?” I ask.

Anna nods while taking another bite of her cookie. Her eyes shining.

“Wan see mama.” Annalisa giggles rubbing her nose on my stubble. “Tickle tickle. Tickly!”

I laugh, shaking my head as I carry baby Annalisa up through the stairs and into her mama’s room.

I was yet to locate Icarus and Arius. I had no idea if they were outside or in their room, playing games. However the empty plates on the kitchen counter did tell me that they ate their breakfast and drank the glass of juice.

The housekeeper had arrived early in the morning to clean the house and make breakfast for the kids, arrange lunch before taking her leave just before I walked into my study.

If it were up to my wife, she would have sworn against housekeepers, but one of these days, with kids and all, she doesn’t feel like doing what she enjoyed doing once.

And for that- I was really glad. Once in every two morning, the housekeepers came to clean and arrange, do the laundry and Whatever Ariel needed help with. Which was not really much. According to her.

If it were up to me, I wouldn’t let her do anything that she insists on doing. Heavy work after two very problematic C-section and a normal delivery and her strict dance and yoga routine was every now and then taking a toll on her.

But my girl was strong and stubborn. At the end of the days she managed everything her this dream and that dream with a triumphant smile on her face.

“Why I’mama- stwill seweeping?” Anna asked playing with my hair that has slightly grown at the back.

“Because, mama is a little sicky, today, bunny rabbit.” I smiled at her.

“Stuffy nose?” Annalisa asked. “Wike me? Me no wike~”

Ariel, tired and working under pressure for the last two weeks, fell slightly sick after her performance at the opera house the night prior.

A sudden drop to her blood pressure followed by her constant iron deficiency had put her to bed this day.

But never mind the complaining husband, who just wants to look after his bride. Right?

I was in fact the over thinking one in this household, no doubt.

Ariel, had resumed her position as the ballet dance teacher at the academy. Even she was reluctant to accept a higher position offered by some renowned academies. She went back to dance professionally as well.

Her career slowed down with her first pregnancy. The second one followed shortly. She almost called it quits, driven by hormones and the change that her body was going through.

Soon after she resumed the whole act until before the arrival of our baby girl.

Two years into her birth, yesterday was her first show at the Palermo opera house, Massimo theatre.

She was absolutely gorgeous.

To say that I was proud of the woman she had become and was evolving into would be putting her mildly. I was beyond proud of the woman as her husband as well as the father of her children.

She made me proud everyday.

She made my heart jolt up and quiver with love everytime she looked at me.

“Tadpole?” I called opening the door to the dimly lit bedroom, walking in before setting Anna down who ran to her mamá.

I wanted to admonish the little creature for running about and bothering her mamá, as tired and as sick as the woman was but their bond at every step astound me.

Left me speechless, even. It was astounding, to see both the girls be the other’s shadow.

I loved the both of them, even more because of that. Annalisa reminded of Bubbles with every step she took toward growth. With two, almost three now, years behind us, I wasn’t ready for my daughter to grow up. At all.

I wanted to stop time, freeze motion only to have her so small infront of my eyes. If I would, I could. I wasn’t just ready for her to grow up so soon. Because everyday, she would be a little different.

A little big.

A little grown up.

And as much as it hurt my heart, she won’t forever be papa’s little princess. Soon after some good years, papa would become overbearing to her. Soon after some good years, I won’t be her favourite person anymore.

I will however always and forever be the first man who loved her since the day she was born. Since the day she opened her eyes and wailed at the top of her lungs in my arms.

I wasn’t ready to imagine my Anna, my sweet sweet daughter to grow up. That wasn’t just on the list of things I want to happen.

Annalisa after a hefty struggle climbed up to the bed sitting beside the sleeping form of her mother, her small hand caressing her cheek, with oh so love.

“Mamá?” The girl ushered for Ariel to wake up. Her tone whispery “Mommy!”

“Two more minutes, bunny rabbit.” Ariel mumbled turning to face me as I sat on the edge of the bed. “Give mommy two more minutes, I’ll make you food-”

“I ate food, alweady.” She whined with a pout. “Cuddles, peewweeeese?”

“Okay, baby.” Ariel hums opening her arms for little Anna to snuggle her. “Did your brothers eat?”

“Un-huh.” Anna nods.

“That’s good, honey.” Ariel hums. “Have you been good, today?”

“Ye, mamá.” Annalisa nods, excited from the attention her sleeping mother was providing her with. Leaning over my little angel peppered her mama’s face with tiny little kisses.

“That’s good, love.” Ariel giggled. “How’s your nose, bunny rabbit?”

“Runny!” Anna whined. “No like, mommy!”

“It will be fine soon, love.” Ariel hums. “It’s just because it’s Christmas too soon.”

“Ye, momma.” My girl pouted her face squished between her momma’s breasts. “I wan wots of cookiee fo cwismass!”

“Only cookies?” Ariel asked peaking her eyes open.

“Yep.” Anna nodded. “I wov cookiee, mommy.”

“I know, baby.” Ariel hummed. “Mama loves cookies too.”

“Annalisa?” I call my daughter diverting her attention to me. “Run along, bunny. Go see what your brothers are up to, sí?”

“Oh no, papá?” She pouts. “Gimme cuddles too, you peweeese. I wan cuddles~”

“Papá’ll give you a lolly, mamá. Go see what are the naughty boys up to.” I promise smiling at the small human lovingly as she squeals, scampering down from the bed and runs out of the room.

“Come, Coco!” I hear the girl yell, giddy. “Poodsieee, tome alonggggg!”

“Sweetheart?” I move Ariel’s hair away from her face, dark tendrils framing her gorgeous appearance.

The woman hums, stretching slightly, putting her hand on my thigh. “Good morning, Capo Bestone.” She smiles.

“Good morning, baby.” I say, caressing her cheek with my knuckles. “How do you feel? Better?”

“Mmmhmm.” She moans. “Better. Slightly. I’m glad you took the day off.”

“Of course.” I chuckle. “I was worried you know? You looked so pale on our flight back.”

“I was too tired, Angel.” She whispers. “I’m tired a lot. But now I can start eating and that’s good.”

“Hmm.” I humm pushing her hair back, away from her face.

Ariel went into strict diets two week before each of her performances. And she didn’t perform very often. But whenever she did, she starved herself for two weeks.

It bothered me so much. Especially with her condition. Her anemia, her two very painful C-sections and her weakness- it bothered me a lot.

“I know it bothers you, Angel.” She whispered moving her head closer to me. “But somethings are necessary-”

“Starving yourself isn’t necessary, tadpole.” I murmured, massaging her hair. “I don’t like you two week diet plans. I don’t like your extreme works out. As much as I love you dancing and following your both dreams, I can’t but feel heartbroken when I see you like this- weak and tired.”

Ariel sighs. “I don’t like seeing me this way too. These two weeks were especially hard. I think I lost too much weight, Angel.”

“You think?” I ask.

Ariel giggles in response. “Okay. Okay.”

“Let’s go see a doctor, just for the sake of my peace.”

“Why?” She smiles teasingly. “Do you think I’m pregnant, again?”

“No baby.” I laugh. “No, I don’t think you’re pregnant.”

“But I love being pregnant.” She pouts. “Love how attentive you are when I am carrying your baby, Capo Bestone.”

“I thought you loved being pregnant because cause all you wanted to do was eat and sleep and get foot rubs?”

“That too, suppose.” Ariel sighs, pushing herself up in a sitting position, holding the silk coverlets to her chest. “Where are my monsters anyway?”

“Out in the garden, I think. I haven’t heard them making a noise yet.” I tell her, handing her a glass of water from the bedside table.

Ariel takes a generous sip before handing me the glass back. “Shall I get you some breakfast?” I ask.

She buries her head at the crook of my neck, her warm breath on my sensitive spot as she leaves small kisses.

“Now, that I think, Capo Bestone.” She mumbles. “I never got my prize for being such a lovely ballerina last night.”

Laughing, I shake my head, fingers massaging her head, rhythmically. This woman was the death of me.

“Don’t you laugh now, dear husband of mine.” She whispers, her painted fingers, inching closer toward the crotch of my pajama bottoms. Her warm palm against my cock. I feel myself stir and twitch from her touch.

“Ariel.” I warn.

“We didn’t have no fun, last night, Angel.” She whines. “I need you so-”

“Mamá!” The excited voice makes Ariel jump and shriek before pulling away from me, as she stairs at the trio with horror filled eyes. The coverlets still clutched to her chest in an iron grip.

When, you have kids, you lock the door. Rule number one. And we learned it the hard way. Possibly traumatized our boy the first time.

“Whatchu doing mama?” Icarus asks, his eyes forming a narrow line, telling that he is assessing the situation.

“N-nothing.” Ariel says quickly. “Now, what are all of you doing here? There is mud all over your clothes.”

“That’s because we were in the garden.” Arius replies. Ariel purses her lips at them.

“Go shower, the both of you.” She waved her had at the duo of the boys. “Now.”

“But it’s only eleven, mama!” Icarus gasps. “We can change-”

“Yes, mama!” Arius chimes in support of his brother. “I don’t wanna shower-”

“No. No.” Ariel shakes her head. “No. Go shower. Now. No muds in the house. None.”

The pair of them whines who held Anna by both her hands. Anna looked quite small standing between her brothers with a bewildered expression as she watched her brothers get an earful, being the messy boys that they were.

“Icarus!” Ariel warns. “Arius! Now, boys.”

“Sí, ma.” They nod with a hump and tugs Anna away from the room while Icarus follows rather leisurely behind the pair of them.

“Boy, they’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days.” Ariel sighs gathering her hair and putting a knot over her head.

I chuckle helping her down from the bed. “Does you head still spin?” I ask.

“Nope.” Ariel says. “Shower with me though. I might feel much much better.”

“Is that so?”

“Sí.”

A|N

All right, that’s it. I’ll stop bugging y’all now. This was the only bonus chapter, I had drafted long before I finished the story. Lol. Enjoy.

Epilogue (bonus)

Angelo didn’t like his birthday being a big deal. But whatever right? Forty one was a big number. Big. And my man, my king deserved nothing less but royalty.

That’s why we were up, early in the morning. Just a couple of days after Christmas while papí slept peacefully. In the kitchen on three bar stools stood three of my helping hand. One of them beside me, a long food pick in hand, fussing, jittery to flip the pancakes. Arius has already poked the half done pancake for two times atleast. Sadly for him, it wasn’t flipping time yet.

The fact greatly bothered him. And he wore a little scowl just like his papí. Impatient.

“Now, mamí?” Arius asked with a little frown magneted to his expression.

“See if it’s done?” I hummed handing him a spatula to flip the cakes. Just for today, I reasoned in my head. Because I was just too much of an anxious mother hen to let these little frolicking monsters into the kitchen. Even on mine or Angelo’s watch. On anybody’s watch really. I was too fidgety about the kids.

“Why are you doing that?” I heard Icarus tsk at his sister annoyed. “What are you doing?”

“Shh!” Annalisa cooed at her brother. Dressed in a fuzzy bear onesie she was the cutest of the bunch. Her onesie also had a fuzzy tail and two fuzzy ears.

“No your putting too much!” Icarus complained desperate for his sister to stop with her chocolate unwrapping and placing them around the plate on a little pile.

“You no know my papí!” She argued.

“He is not your papí.” Icarus argued. “He was my papí first!”

“Shh!” She shushed her brother again opening yet another chocolate to place it on the plate. “No yours. My papí.”

Icarus huffed again crossing his arms over his chest and glared at task on hand. Children safe knives were a thing apparently. And that was what my eldest using to cut a number of strawberries, grape in half. I had already peeled the orange and juiced them, made juice out of the apples and did everything necessary and big before calling these munchkins out of bed at eight thirty.

Our Christmas tree was still very prominent and dominant on our living room. All decorated and primed and blinking with the lights we put around the massive structure around early November. Yes.

Christmas started early in my home and lasted up until late January. When my husband would be tired of the festivities, cookies and cake. And ofcourse the carols and theme cutlery. I couldn’t let the man, in whatever condition accept that the red and green accented plates and bowls were cute.

“It isn’t, sweetness.” He would coo at my pouty expression. “Maybe around Christmas? It’s February now, love.”

Okay, fine he had a logic. A one reason I didn’t like at all. But fine. FINE. WHATEVER.

“Mommy, now!” Arius cried from esctasty as he showed me the clean food pick.

“Yes, now, baby!”

“Ou bubba! Flip!” Anna mumbled her cheek swollen with a chocolate that she had shoved in her mouth. My regular instinct would be admonishing her but- really, it’s a special day.

Go ahead have a candy, Anna. I mentally chimed.

Arius carefully flipped the pancake. A perfect golden bottom greeted us.

“Perfect, Amore mio.” I praised leaning down to place a kiss on his head.

“Grazié, mamí!” Arius sighed from relief.

“Ow, mommy?” Anna pulled my attention toward herself using her sticky fingers to pull on my cherry silk robe. I to my little girl with the biggest smile.

“Sí?” I asked.

“Enou’ choco?” She asked pointing one little dainty finger on the plate. There was atleast twenty mini ramekin shaped chocolates on the plate.

“Sí.” I laughed. “Enough choco, amore mio”

“More berries, maa?” Icarus asked looking satisfied with his handy work as he placed the last bit of grapes on the bowl.

“Just perfect, darling.” I beamed at him. “You did so good.”

“Grazié maa.” He proudly hummed. I smiled at my little guy.

They were so big already. Icarus was two months shy of ten. Arius was eight. And Anna! Oh my sweet Annalisa was three. The absolute star of any party.

“Mommy!” Arius hummed from beside me giving me a second to turn my attention to him. I helped him take the pancakes off the flat pan.

Angelo’s breakfast was all done and plated. I placed all three card the babies made for their daddy one top of another.

Bread rolls with jam, pancakes with chocolate syrup, cheese and fruits. Morning coffee and Annalisa’s unwrapped chocolate (just three, I promise) were all laid out in pretty little plates and arranged on a tray that I carried upstairs to the bedroom. Annalisa and Coco marching forward followed by her brothers.

Poodsie had left us the year prior. The heartbreak for family was scarring. Especially Arius. I have never seen him weep like that before. Everytime I think of my doggie boy that was Angelo’s present to me all those years ago, makes me heart clench and eyes water. But that Poodsie had a good life in a warm home surrounded by people he loved made it less painful. But it was still there. Old age took him and Coco was- Coco was thirteen and the fear had already gripped me in ways that I couldn’t explain.

Shaking the thoughts off my head, I opened the bedroom door since all the miniature humans we’re not tall enough. Yes, door handles were high enough so they can’t reach. Not yet, atleast. The heart attack I got after Icarus had locked himself in the room when he was five was enough to call a craftsman and get them altered, thank you.

I mean, they can still use a stool to get up to that, but it brought me peace of mind. Plus a stool is not always around.

“On three, okay?” I whispered to the monsters as I slowly pushed open the door and counted to three. Angelo was up, almost ruining our surprise but he was half laying on the bed, phone on hand.

Mouthwatering as he looked right now dressed in a thermal shirt (we stoped sleeping naked cause well, for obvious reasons. Sleeping fully clothed was weird, not gonna lie but yeah.)

I held the door open for the kids as they sang happy birthday to their daddy on top of their lungs, faces flushed and mouths sporting the biggest smile. Coco barked his own version of the song before all four of them ran to Angelo.

“Oumph!” Angelo gasped as four weights fell on top of him, a mess of laughter and giggles. Happiness and love.

“Happy birthday, papa.” Icarus grinned, followed by his brother and sister and our doggie boy.

Angelo almost looked tearful but the man recovered as I sat on the edge of the bed beside him, grinning from ear to ear while all the kids settled around him. The boys tucked to his sides and Annalisa on his lap, mumbling out everything that mattered while gesturing with her hands.

“Ah, princess.” Angelo cooed placing a kiss on the little girls head. Annalisa pouted in return because she had been interupted while her brother’s talked around.

“Breakfast, Capo Bestone?” I whispered turning his attention to me. A sheepish smile at the edge of his mouth.

God, how I love this man. This old man.

“Sí.” He smiled. “What do we have-”

“Pancakes!” Arius cried.

“Mmm.” Angelo hummed as I placed the tray ridden with food on his lap. My hand lingering on his thigh.

“Who’s going to read me these?” Angelo asked picking up the three vibrant card that accompanied breakfast.

“Me. Me.” Icarus and Arius chomped up and a mini glaring contest took place before Angelo handed them each a card to read out loud for him. Anna, sweet Anna only pouted for not being able to participate.

Competitive. I thought with a wince.

“Is we gon zoo, papa?” Anna asked cupping her dad’s cheeks and turning his attention wholely back to her tiny self. Icarus and Arius scowled from having less of their papa.

“I don’t think so, bunny ribbit.” Angelo smiled. “It’s so cold. Zoo is closed, lovely.”

“Oh no!” Annalisa whined. “Weally? I wanna go.”

“I’ll throw you at the alligators to eat.” Icarus mumbled, Anna shrieked. Arius joined and said he’ll throw her to the lions. Anna shrieked again and complained loudly. Angelo admonished his boys and kisses his little girl’s cheek. Anna delightfully cuddled back to her daddy with the biggest smile on her face.

It was later when the kids had left to watch their power rangers show and I had settled Annalisa in the playroom with Coco with my little pony so she could be less fussy and I could have some aline time with my man. Finally.

“Thank you.” Angelo whispered against my mouth. I melted from the warmth. “This was the best birthday ever, love.”

“You’re welcome.” I whispered back. “We have cake too, you know? Your favorite.”

“You do, don’t you?” He chuckled.

“Hmm.” I agreed. “And family dinner too. All your favourites.”

“You are my favorite.”

“I know.” I gloated proudly and kissed his mouth once again. “You’re old.”

Angelo pursed his lips shaking his head at me. “That was uncalled for, darling.”

“I know.” I grin mischievously. “I am waiting for your sides to turn grey and all. Fantasy, Capo Bestone. Fantasy.” Dreamily I sighed. My hand palming his already growing erection.

“You’ll have your dose of fantasy when I put you over my knee, bubbles.”

I grinned. “Don’t I love that.”

Epilogue (bonus II)

• 𝓾𝓷𝓮𝓭𝓲𝓽𝓮𝓭 *

ANGELO POV

“Are you my favorite girl?” I asked my daughter.

“Yes!” She replied without batting her lashes. Sher confidence soaring high and big.

“I thought you were my favorite girl?” Roman asked holding out his arms for Annalisa. She extended her arms too so that I could transport her to Roman. I did.

“You too, poppa.” She hummed.

“You’re both of ours favourite girl?” He asked.

“Sí, poppa.” Anna hummed. “We go zoo? It sunny and wam!”

“Did you ask mommy?” I asked taking a seat on my chair.

“Nuh-uh.” Anna replies. “No ask mommy. She no let me out! Say it wam! It wam! I get sicky and stuffy nose and my leg hurt!”

Roman laughed at her complaining nature. My girl was Ariel’s shadow. However, along with her looks Ariel’s defying nature had also wedged into her genes. Annalisa wouldn’t take no for an answer when she stated her demands.

“We ge ice lolly, daddy?” Anna whines. “And candy! So mawy candy!”

“I don’t think so, puppet.” Roman chuckles.

“Oh no?” Anna fakes a sniffle. “Bu- I wans candy and lolli daddy!”

Biting my smile I shake my head. “I think it’s enough lolli for one day, Anna don’t you?”

“No?” She pouts. “lolli cold. Lolli nice!”

Apparently the cola ice lolipop gene was also the LaRusso part of her. She is only three.

Three years old!

“Oh. Oh. Tan we take Nico too-”

“No.” The simultaneous answer came from both Roman and I. His eyes found mine and a silent exchange of similar feeling took place.

“Gee.” Blaire entered. Her brows pulled to a frown hand still on the door knob. “Who piss- ruined your cheerios?” She asked entering my office.

“Momma Bear!” Annalisa yayed. “Daddy say we no take my fren?”

“Nico?” She asked, knowing that it pissed me off as much as it pissed Roman off.

“Yey.” Anna pouts. “We tan take im, wight momma bear?”

“I believe so, puppet.” She smiles. “We can definitely take your friend-”

“No, we are not taking that boy along with us.” Roman retorted. “It’s strictly family only.”

“Bubba boys!” Annalisa argued. “Why no Nico, tause he boy?”

“Shh, Annalisa.” I warn gently. “Baby-”

“No!” She hummed crossing her tiny arms over her chest. “Wan my fren!”

“It’s fine, boys.” Blaire sighs plopping down on an empty sofa. “It’s fine. She’s three years old. She just wants to go to the pier with her friend not get married to him.”

“That’s not the point.” I argue.

“He’s a boy.” Roman adds.

“And y’all are crazy.” She snorts picking up Annalisa from Roman’s lap and settling her down on her hip. “She’s three. Three. One. Two. Three. Not thirteen, Jesus Fuu- Christ!”

“Yes daddy!” Anna huffed. “One. Two. Three.”

“No candies for you, missy.” I pointed my finger at her in warning. “No cola popsicle.”

“Papí!” She whined.

“I’ll buy you some, puppet. Let’s go. We don’t want to get fuzzy headed. Come.”

With a whining Anna on her hip Blaire crossed the room, undoubtedly to get her ready so they can go to the summer pier.

Roman and Blaire were taking the kids out for the night. They were going to the pier and then dinner and then the kids were going to crash at Roman’s.  It was our every other weekend routine. While it allowed us to have some alone time, it helped with their binding as well. Blaire and Ariel always put the kids asleep in one room whenever they slept over. While I thought it was weird at first, Ariel said it helped sibling bond.

I mean she was the one taking regular mom classes. Where a child psychiatrist conducted sessions about children’s basic mental problems and conditions and all that. Her efforts toward the kids made me swell with proud. However it wasn’t in me to sit through three of those classes a week. I did one each week however, whenever I had just enough time. Sometimes Ariel would record them for me and Roman and Blaire.

And so therefore my breaks in between meetings would be listing to people with no kids teaching me how to raise kids. But whatever helps them right? Whatever is needed for them to have a parent who is their safe house.

“Don’t want no tag alongs!” I heard a yell that undoubtedly belonged to Arius. The silent but hot headed one of my trio. And I’d be lying that I didn’t get a little confused whenever he yelled, coming out of his quiet nature and being rather rough.

“Arius?” I called out from where I was sitting behind the desk. Blaire had left the door open. Upon hearing the yell, Roman snapped his head toward the open doorway as well.

“Arius!” I called out again. “In here, little man.”

“What’s wrong?” Roman asked, his tone concerned. I shook my head pushing back mt chair “Arius?” Roman called walking toward the open door.

Fuming his little head out, Arius walked out of his room and walked straight to me. He still reached my knees, so he hugged the highest point of me that he could and buried his face.

“What’s wrong, bud?” I asked running my ringed hand through his lush baby hair. All of Giovanni genes stacked up on this one.

“Nuffin.” He sniffled.

“You need to stop getting angry like red, Arius.” Icarus came out hot on his heels, teasing. “It’s no fun.”

I pursed my lips at my eldest who shrugged his tiny shoulders. Eleven year old and showing swagger beyond his age.

“Now, mind your words.” Roman pointed his finger at him in warning. “It’s not fun to be detained either.”

Icarus pouted but held his head up high. Arius calmed down enough after a minute or two. Gave himself a breathing therapy all in his own (Please, I’m a proud father. My boys are strong and aren’t afraid to show their tears or their strength.) and wiped his eyes.

“Maybe you should learn when to talk, Icarus.” Arius retorted at his brother and went back to his room.

“You cannot talk to me that way.” Icarus ran after him. “I’m older than you!”

“Jesus, what was that about?” Roman asked shaking his head. “Also, don’t you suppose Icarus is being a little swagger.”

“It’s a stage.” I laughed. “It’ll pass.”

“Well I hope it does.” He shook his head. “Wouldn’t want to send them away in detention camps.”

I laughed. “ You aren’t letting that go ate you?“

“That’s the only threat that keeps them in lines.” Roman sighed glancing down at his wrist watch. “Boys are hard to raise.”

I don’t disagree.

After Roman and Blaire leaves with the kids, I sit on the living room couch, with Ariel opposite to me, her feet on my lap. It was a hot saturday afternoon and the house was eerie as ever. Silent, void of the laughter and giggles. Noises of toys banging about and piano playing in haphazard notes.

“Why it’s like that I want a little time to myself when they’re raising a havoc and now I miss them too much when they’re out?” My wife hums. Her heard resting against the headrest of the couch as I methodically massage her feet, taking out some of the tiredness from her.

“I know.” I agree. “It’s too weird.”

“Mmm.” She agrees. “What happened with Arius and Icarus earlier?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea.” I reply.

“I heard him yell but he never said anything.”

“He didn’t tell me either.”

Ariel hummed once again.

“I think it has something to do with Icarus’s friend going along with them.” Ariel said. “Ari is not a fan of him.”

I nodded. “Might be.”

“Mm.” She agrees. “What’s worrying you?”

“Nothing.” I whisper placing a kiss on her feet before picking up the other one. “Why do you think I’m worried?”

“You have that frown.” She says. “And please don’t say that it’s because Anna wanting to go with Nico. It was funny before now it’s concerning, husband dearest.”

“Concerning?” I asked raising an eyebrow. “How is it concerning when I want to protect my sweet girl?”

“Protect her from her only friend.” She retorts. “Who might I add, is our neighbor.”

“They live five minute away from us.” I reason.

“Still neighbor.”

“Their house is thirty miles further from ours.”

Ariel sighs. “Okay, okay, you win. You win.”

“I always win, tadpole.” I smirk.

“You’re protectiveness is going to turn Annalisa into a nun. And I believe she would be saved if it was just you. But now, it’s the whole DiMariano-Giovanni gang!”

“Nun seems like a better idea than having a boyfriend.” I add as a matter of fact.

“Angel!” My wife playfully yells, laughing. “Annalisa is three years old.”

“She can still sing church children’s choir.” I add.

“You’re unbelievable.” She shakes her head. “Let’s round up this conversation when Anna is sixteen?”

“Fine.” I kiss her mouth. Ariel hums, her arms going around my neck. “Let’s get you upstairs baby.”

“Yes, please.”

this story is being rewritten

Hey guys!

It’s been a while. And even tho I finished this story long ago, I can’t still get over it. Angelo and Ariel has a little place in my heart. So I want to rewrite their tale of love and hate.

So, I’m not gunna take this version down because I see a lotta people are reading it and I’d like for them to read and enjoy their time but I’ll be doing some heavy cleaning and major plot hole filling in the new version. Like for example one really sweet reader reached out to me to ask why Angelo did whatever he did and what made him change his mind about love and family. And I didn’t really have an answer to give here which as I writer I should have right? I mean something ought to make sense for stuff to happen.

When I wrote this story I was relatively immature and didn’t really have much idea about writing academically or experience wise. I just wrote whatever I wanted to but I think the readers deserve a lot more than a half sense making story. So that’s why I wanted to rewrite and also have this version available. Cause it’ll be easier for me to compare as well.

Anywho. I’ve changed the name in the new version. It’s called To Loathe and To Love.

The prologue is available already. So if anyone wants to check out that one, Please do because feedback is always welcome.

Thank you!

November.

PS. Check out the announcement thing I posted on my profile or drop a comment in here I’ll be glad to answer.

Unfortunately my Instagram page is lost as I was pretty inactive the last two years. But never mind.