My Unforgivable, My Unforgettable... (Mafia Romance, 18+)

Chapter Two

Pic above is of Triton...

I stare at my reflection in the mirror, eyeing every angle of my body. Off-the-shoulder, black, body fitting dress, black leather thigh boots, blood-red lipstick, black clutch purse, and hair straight and down. That'll have to do. As usual, my father is not at home. He never is most a times, but I'm not complaining. Each moment near or with him, is unbearable. And I'm his biological daughter!

My phone vibrates; a new message from Davina. She's arrived. I eye myself one last time, then proceed to exit the room. Two minutes later, and I'm in Davina's car, with her embracing me tightly.
"Oh, bitch! Looking cute as motherfreaken hell," she comments, as she reverses out of the parking lot.

"Thanks. Your not bad yourself."
"Bull crap! I am slaying this outfit, prove me wrong!" She replies, eyes now fixated on the road up ahead.
"What of Night, Jammie, and Carol?"
"We'll be meeting them in the club. That place is dope, I swear. Like damn! Trendy music and shit."
"Sounds like your type of scene."
"It is my type o' scene."

We finally arrive at the venue, exit the vehicle, and make our way towards the entry point. Shit! It ain't even eight thirty, and this place already has a long que.
"I'm not in the mood to stand in a que Davina!"
"Your not going to. I booked us the V.I.P section. We are going straight in. Queing my ass!"

Her comment makes me chuckle lightly. Davina is the crazy bitch of our little circle. She breaths life wherever she goes, and I love her for that. We walk up to the black suit-clad bouncer at the entrance, show our IDs with Davina explaining everything to him, then walk into the neon-lit building. Music of all kinds, persons of all classes grinding sweaty bodies against each other, intoxicating smells of all types. The perfect art.

I follow Davina through the crowd, until we reach the less active section of the club. We move past the heavy lilac curtains, where we find the rest of the ladies sipping on alcoholic drinks, enjoying the company of some foreign-faced men.

Night is straddling her partner's laps, literally dry humping him, Jammie's giving some other guy a professional lap dance, while Carolina's throwing her head back in laughter, at something the guy next to her said. I guess we are here to have fun and all.

"Bella, let's go get ourselves some company," she speaks too fast for me to give an immediate response.
Great! Motherfreaken great! Nowhere near hell am I follow her...
"You are coming with me honey," she speaks, pulling me past the expensive curtains.

"By the way, I've heard, that the owner of this place is around, and that he is one sight," Davina's voice screams into my hear.
Damnit, her voice!
I choose to keep silent however. I don't know how to respond to that.
I scrutinize my environment, this time, taking in the view above us. There's a floor right above us, and not many people are on it.

Some guy walks up to the rails on the edge of the floor, leaning against it, and looking beneath him. Tall, that's all I can make out of him. Very tall. He turns his head to the side, and our eyes lock, or at least I think they do.

He calls for the waiteress walking past him, then leans his head, as he whispers something into her ear. She nods hastily, and makes her way down the fleet of stairs. His gaze turns to me once again, and I avert my eyes this time round.

"Bella? Bella! Jeez, what's caught your attention like that?"
"Huh? Oh, sorry about that. What were you saying again?"
"I was saying, that that guy's been checking me out and everything. Is it okay if I go talk to him?"
"Without me? Bitch!"
"You can come...I think."
I exhale deeply, then answer.

"Just go, I'll be at the bar. I can't go back to the other girls anyways."
It'll be awkward.
"Okay then. See you later."
"Okay," I reply, as I make my way towards the bar.

I shouldn't have come! Fuck! Fucking hell! Fuck, I shouldn't have bothered to come!
"A shot of whiskey please!"
"Right away miss."
I bob my head to the beats of a song playing. "Press" by "Cardi." I love that jam.

Someone taps my shoulder from behind, so I turn to face them.
"Miss, the owner of the club requests your presence."
"Tell him, that I'm not coming."
"Miss, please," she literally begs.
The hell? Why would she be begging?
"Please miss, for my sake."
I furrow my brows, but hop off my seat.
For your sake? Who is this guy?

I down the whiskey immediately, the drink burning trails down my throat, then proceed to follow the waitress through the crowd, and up the fleet of stairs. We walk down a narrow hallway, and into a secluded room, and the waitress leaves me to enter the room on my own, walking away briskly, as if frightened.

The scene that welcomes me, is not one I could have imagined. A lady, half naked, on her knees, head bobbing up and down, right in front of the same man I'd made eye contact with earlier.
"Leave!" His voice booms, and for a second, I question whether the order is directed towards me, or the other lady.

The lady's vigor only seems to heighten, and in the next minute, she's lain on the floors across the room, tossed to the side, like she weighed nothing. The hell? Asshole!
"What is wrong with you!" I slightly yell, making my way towards the fallen woman, and helping her to her feet.

She jolts out of the room after thanking me, a tear sliding down her cheek. The guy seems unaffected, zipping the trousers of his suit, eyes never leaving mine.
"Tell your father, I'm coming for him. Tell him, that the Psycho is going to pay him an unexpected visit at any moment. Now, get the fuck out."

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