When she was 14, Dalia was sold to Matteo Martinelli, the former leader of the largest Italian mafia. Flash forward with his son, Vittore Martinelli as the new leader, Dalia is given to him as a birthday present after years in spent in the "safe ho...
I was in my office, sitting in my chair, my back to my desk, facing the window in front of me. It gave me a good view of the city below. The early morning sun shone through the clear glass, some of its warmth reaching me where I sat. I twirled the feather ring on my left hand middle finger and waited for my next appointment to come in.
There was a rhythmic knock on my door.
"Enter," I commanded my voice strong and cold. The door opened and the sound of heels moving to where I sat graced my ears.
"Sir, you have an appointment with Mr. Skye at 3. Do you want me to arrange a limo now?" my assistant asked from behind me. I turned in my chair to face her. She was pretty. Blonde hair in a tight bun, bright green eyes, a figure to kill for and she knew it.
She was dressed in a short black pencil skirt and a white shirt with the top buttons undone, showcasing her black lace bra and a wonderful cleavage. She held an ipad in her hands as she looked at me expectantly, waiting for my answer.
"Come here," I commanded pushing me chair back and patting my lap. She wasted no time, eagerly walking towards me and settling herself in my lap. She wrapped her hands around my neck as I wrapped mine around her waist. She smiled at me and I leaned forward, planting kisses along her collar bone.
She tilted her head back and let out a soft sigh. "Sir, we can't... your wife..."
"You and I both know she's not a problem," I whispered. My assistant knew about my many many affairs. She was always my number one stress reliever, better than the others I had on speed dial.
"I want you to prepare a limo at around 2:30. Have James run the drug transport while I'm out," I instructed, leaning back on my chair. My assistant moved forward, giving me a kiss.
"Will do, sir," she purred. Just when things were getting good, the door was opened. I looked up at one of my men. He stood across from me, his hands behind his back.
"Did you find him?" I asked remembering what I had sent him to do.
"Yes sir, we found him. He was passed out in the subway," he said motioning to the door where a scrawny boy was dragged into my office. The man in front of me stepped aside as he was pushed before my desk. He looked up, his brown eyes fearful.
"Norman... great to see you again," I said pulling the woman in my lap closer. "Your time is up. Where's my money?" I asked calmly.
"I-I-I nee-eed more time boss. Please. I'll get the money back," he stuttered.
"Back? What do you mean get it back?" I asked noticing his weird choice of words. He licked his pale chapped lips ad I could see the gears running in his mind.
"It's ok if you don't want to answer. I'm sure your sister would love to hear you had another unsuccessful visit," I taunted and the boy went paler if that was even possible.
"I had your money boss, really I did but it was taken," he said. Anger burned in my chest but I remained calm.
"By who?" I asked, my grip tightening on my assistant in my lap.
"I don't know who she was sir," he said bowing his head.
"How do you loose 20,000 to a girl?" I asked tiredly. "What does she look like?"
"She was black, hourglass figure, a lot of curly hair that fell all the way to her waist uh... brown eyes..." I watched the boy carefully.
"Why do you lie Norman?" I tsked. "Maybe I should let you go eh? Boys, take him to the torture room. Tell Ginny I want our mafia symbol removed from the back of his neck. That raven doesn't deserve to be on his disgusting flesh. She can make it as painful as she wants." I ordered and flicked my hand, signaling for the guards to pick him up, which they did. His eyes widened in fear and he begun struggling against their hold.
"I'm not lying boss! She asked me how to get to Santa Pores! I was in Las Pavita at the time. She was wearing a black shirt with some weird MF logo!"
"Wait."
The guards stopped dragging him out of my office, letting him go, causing him to fall to the ground. I slipped my hand under my assistant's shirt as leaned back in my seat.
"Tell me more about this logo."
I know, a really short chapter but it was needed. lmao I love the twists this is going to bring.
Also, I wanted to show you the Martinelli Familia logo.
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Made it myself. And like an art teacher, I will explain it. *clears throat*
The MF represents the initials of the mafia. The vines showing how this is a family business or in other words, showing the fact that the leaders and power move down the family tree.
I even got Vittore to sign the bottom for me. Eeeeeeeee!!! I'm sorry for simping but I will cherish that picture.
