Mafia Matters {Complete}

Standing Your Ground

***Chris P.O.V***

As the sun began to rise I did as well. I opened my eyes and rubbed them. I was slowly taking in my surroundings when I realized that I never left last night. I looked down and saw Heather sleeping soundly in my arms. I smiled down at her and kissed her forehead. Even when she is asleep, she's still gorgeous. I slowly un-snaked my arms from around her body and sat up. I carefully stood up and stretched. I looked around the room and realized that I had taken her up to the very top floor and placed us on the couch. I chuckled softly at my self. I guess taking her to her room would have been a much better idea but I was do tired that I wasn't thinking. I looked down at her one more time before I made my way to the elevator. I needed to get back to work. I've been gone for the last five days and every thing was starting to build up. I left the elevator as soon as I had entered.

As I walked into the lobby I saw many people cleaning up the damage from last night. There were a few birds here and there for they flew in last night. I noticed Madison sweeping up glass. Jackson was breaking down destroyed furniture. The blonde named Bobby was working on replacing the lights. The tall African-American, named Eli (short for Elijah), was busy scraping food off of the walls. The last person I saw working was a rather young kid who I assumed to be Jacob. I had never seen him, Heather has only ever told me about him, and he was throwing what ever was handed to him into a dumpster out side. Just seeing the way they all worked together was quite pleasant. They were all a happy family.

I quickly left the lobby, so to not distract them, and walked out to my car. I had a thirty minute ride back to work so I was looking forward to some peace and quite. Unfortunately the universe had other plans. My phone started to ring. I looked at the caller ID. It read 'The person who "raised" me'. Sure it was a rather long and rude name for my mother but she never made an effort to raise me after the age of seven. I groaned in annoyance and answered the phone.

"Yes?" I answered shortly.

"Well hello to you as well son." My mom stated dryly.

"What do you need mother?" I asked just as dryly as I climbed into that car.

"Why must you act like this Christopher?" She sighed on the other side of the phone.

"Just answer me mom before I hang up." I threatened as I put my phone on speaker phone and put it in a cup holder.

"Fine. I need you to come back home." She said flatly.

"No. There's no way I'm coming home to Australia. I left because I cant stand to be living with you after so many years of constant fighting and negativity." I told her as I drove through town.

"Christopher! Please, I need you to come home. I worry about you everyday you're not home. Plus, that little "business" you run of catering woman to sick men is very dangerous and I do not approve!" She snapped at me.

"Mother. I understand your concern but you need to respect my life choices. I respected your choice to love that prick I dared to call father! Plus, I have met someone who I am very happy with. There is absolutely no way I'm going back now!" I snapped back at her.

I did not care if this was my own mother. The way her and father would treat me as a teenager was something I was never going to forget. I gripped the steering wheel and clenched my jaw tightly.

After a few moments of silence from the other side of the line there was an eruption of laughter. I didnt understand what was so funny so it only made me angrier.

"So my little Christopher has found "love"? What's it's name?" She asked me still laughing.

Hearing her call Heather "it" was almost too much for me to handle.

"This outstanding woman is named Heather and--" I didn't have a chance to finish my sentence

"Oh my God, are you seriously dating one of your prostitutes? Christopher I cant believe you have stooped so low!" She yelled at me again.

That was it. The final straw. I snapped.

"Shut up! Heather is not a prostitute! She is the living resemblance of a God Damn goddess and you will not speak of her this way! And for the record the woman who work for me have more heart than you ever did AND get treated with more respect then you've ever shown ANYONE in your entire life!" I raged into the phone and hung up.

My chest was rising rapidly with anger. My mother is nothing more to me than a vagina that I came out of. A mother was supposed to love you and support you. She was not a mother in any way possible. I purposely took the long way around to work so I could cool off. Sure I worked with prostitutes but I respected how they wished to treat their own bodies. Most of my woman are homeless so I provide homes, food, and an entertainment center. I ran my business a little differently. I don't allow my girls to just go and stand on the corners were it's cold or they could be shot. If a man is looking for a woman he has to come in and pay me half now and half when he brings her back. When she is brought back there should be no bruising on the arms, legs, throat, waist, or even the head. These men that come in forget that this is how these woman get paid, and when that happens, they become forgotten as well.

When I pulled into my usual spot, I walked into the main lobby and was not greeted by the secretary. I raised an eye brow as I walked behind the desk and heard loud sobbing coming from the entertainment room. I walked in and saw a large group of woman surrounding another who must have just come back from a service. All the woman around her were casually dressed. Most men expect them to be in there "show clothes" when they come to get them. That's not the case. I praise these woman for trying to fit into normal clothes to feel normal.

The closer I got to the women the more I saw. The one sobbing sat on a bench with a black eye, bruising all along her arms and legs, her throat looked very swollen, and there were whip marks on her every where the eye could see. This was the shit I was talking about. Men forget that this is how these women make a living. They are not an inflatable. They are living people and they need to be treated as such. I gently made my way through the crowd and bent down in front of her. She she felt a man's presence she flinched harshly and looked at me. It hurt. It really did hurt.

"Hey... Its okay. Its okay. No one is going to hurt you any more." I whispered to her gently.

This strategy always works in this situation. They just came back from a night of shouting and abuse. They need comfort now.

"Why don't you run up to the bath room, take off all that make up, and change into something more comfortable? I'll send a doctor over to have you looked at okay?" I continued to whisper to her.

She sniffed and nodded at me. She was young, maybe nineteen? Someone so young shouldn't have this much trauma. I stood up as she did. I expected her to go right away, but instead she gave me a tight hug and whispered a 'Thank you' to me, then she was off. Almost everyone here has shown gratitude towards me but this one was special. I nodded at all the woman and made my way back to the front desk to see who the latest drop off was. I need to blow some serious steam anyways.