15. Elio
Chapter fifteen
Elio
The dimly lit office is bathed in the warm amber glow of the desk lamp, casting long, dramatic shadows across the walls. I hesitate to turn on the overhead lights, knowing that doing so would reveal the vivid image seared into my mind ?her sprawled across the mahogany desk, legs parted, waiting for me to claim her.
The glass of whiskey in my hand has been untouched for over twenty minutes, so I get up to take out some ice cubes from the fridge at the corner of the office.
I try to navigate my way through the darkness, but three steps in the wrong direction drag a groan from me, causing me to turn on the lights.
I stop in front of the desk, there are papers strewn all over it now, yet all I can see is her perfect peach skin against the dark mahogany.
God! The sheer thought of her has hardened my cock, yet again.
I turn away and head quickly to the refrigerator, taking out some ice cubes from the freezer compartment and dunking them into the whiskey glass.
Aria Abruzzi, what the hell have you done to me?
I had absolutely no plans to take her there, at least not in the way I did, but when she walked from her chair to mine and leaned over my table, finally giving in to me, with those perfect breasts splayed right in front of me, I had no choice but to damn the consequences. I had to finally claim her.
I return to my chair, inhaling and exhaling to relieve myself of the involuntary hard-on I’m experiencing right now.
I can still remember the outline of her body and its texture against my own skin. The curve of her hips against my hands as I grabbed them to dig into her, her breathless gasps that eventually matured into soft moans, the way she clung to me like she would fall apart if she let go…
No woman had ever roamed her hands passionately along my sordid frame, taking in the smoothness and roughness of my bodily terrain.
As if she wanted to memorize the feel of my body, like knowing me intimately was all that mattered.
I set the glass down and rub a coarse palm over my face. I’ve tried everything I can to ditch this particular memory, even attempted working from my room, but none of it has succeeded in making this memory go away.
Every time I drop my head towards the desk, it’s like her scent still lingers on it, that floral, cherry bloom fragrance that threatens to drive me insane.
And she was a virgin indeed!
Fuck !
All the girls who had ogled over me were experts, ladies who bounced their way on top of my cock, or ladies who were just ready to splay their legs as wide as possible so I could slide into the divide.
None of them, not even one, had been pure. Or innocent.
Not until Aria.
“It’s just…I’ve never done this...” those words can never escape my memory, especially because of how she said it. Her large eyes had grown wider, and her lips were quivering with uncertainty.
Fuck. Aria handed to me what she had kept away from other men on a platter of gold. I can’t understand why she allowed me to do it.
The knowledge that I’m the only man who has ever fucked her sweet pussy has awakened something feral in me, something that should lay dormant. I want her again. I shake my head at the thought of another man holding her slender waist in his hands and pumping his dick into her wet pussy.
The thought alone brings my hands into fists. Something wicked churns in my gut, something that can propel me to tear any man apart, even kill, if he ever dared to go even five steps close to Aria.
No, now she’s mine. Mine to claim, mine to guard, and mine to worship! Even if she doesn’t know it yet.
If Ezra were here, he would have lifted his lips in that rueful smile and shook his head; “ Stai giocando con il fuoco , Elio (You’re playing with fire, Elio),” he would say.
I couldn’t understand how he used to say that attachment to people made you weak, and yet he had thrown the power, control, and respect away for that woman.
Right now, I’m starting to understand a glimpse of what it must have felt like for him.
Honestly, I used to think he was a bit irrational, signing off rights to the mafia to me. He had opted for peace. A quieter life with his wife and kids where he didn’t have to look over his shoulder or plan the next man to murder in cold blood.
Still, I can’t help but question whether his decision was the wisest one.
I chuckle at the irony. The man who once ruled New York with an iron fist is now reduced to a family man playing soccer games and grilling in the backyard.
The chair creaks as I lean back into it, staring at the ceiling. The idea of a life away from the chaos of blood and gunshots seems like a fantasy, something I don’t think I will ever have.
Who am I kidding? I don’t think I would ever be like Ezra. I don’t have it in me to walk away from this life I have now and become a man of peace and quiet.
But then there’s Aria.
I know she has her tough side, which makes it seem like she’s made of steel, but as I get to know her, I know it’s only a facade. The more she tries to defy me, the more she attracts me to her.
Fuck. I don’t want her to become my vulnerability.
Until now, I haven’t had a reason to be scared or to watch my back, but now that Aria is in my life, I’m starting to feel things… feelings I never wanted to have.
Aria makes me have weird cravings. I find myself suddenly not so petrified of the picture of a family ?maybe of my own? with a kid or two running around in a large house with a nice backyard and a pool.
I realize that, unbeknownst to either of us, she makes me want to do better. But at the same time, the thought of being a husband or father just freaks me out. What if I hurt her the way my father hurt my mother? All my life, the only thing I’ve known how to do is kill. I neither know how to nurse nor nurture life.
My father had always spat the fact that I am nothing good.
“ Non vali niente (You’re worthless)!” he would yell every time he was intoxicated and reeking of booze. On days I wasn’t too lucky, he would grab the object closest to him and smack me on the head with it until my temples began to bleed.
There were days when he would storm in angrily and unbuckle his belt, swinging it across the tiny one-bedroom we lived in, exerting his unjustified anger on my tiny frame.
And then my mom would step in.
Sometimes, he would yank her hair and bash her head against whatever surface was closest to him. Other times, he would grab her by the neckline of her dress and send his palm across her face until she would bleed from her nose.
Once, one of her teeth even fell out, and another time, she couldn’t hear for a week in her left ear.
Whenever I recall his actions towards her, I grind my teeth in rage. If only I’d had my current strength, I would have choked him until his eyes bulged from their sockets, stripping him of the ability to hunt his victims.
That ruthless environment I grew up in facilitated the man I have become, and I cannot help it. I cannot afford to be that kind of man to Aria.
Despite having spent my whole life trying to be a different man from who he was, in moments like this, I cannot help but wonder if it is true that the apple does not fall far from the tree.
The anger, the possessiveness, the need for control… I feel it lurking in the farthest corners of my heart, waiting for the right time to pounce on my perfect life and ruin it.
The rim of the glass is cool as I lift it to my lips, letting its content burn my throat through to my chest. My past seems like a weight, dragging me down to hell, no matter how much I try to avoid it.
The glass clinks on the table as I set it down and lean forward on my desk. Aria has pierced a mark into me, and I don’t know how to undo it.
The truth is, I don’t even want to.
I run my palms over my face again. The girl needs someone who can give her stability, and by God, I am not that man. I’m a man who is haunted and weighed down by sins and ghosts. I can’t be a good husband to her, no matter how hard I try.
To make things worse, she’s from the opposite side of the law. Never in a million years did I think I would be falling for a woman like that.
I wonder what she thinks every time she remembers that I have taken her virginity. I have not set my eyes on her once since that night. The last four days, to be precise. She heads for work very early in the morning and returns late in the evening as if she’s intentionally avoiding me.
As if I’m a deadly, contagious plague that she has to quarantine from.
I wonder if she hates me now. If she regrets coming up to me that day and letting me fuck the hell out of her. Although, admittedly, she didn’t even see a glimpse of all the things I wanted to do to her… to that pure, untouched body of hers.
I don’t deserve her, but God, do I want her. And that makes me hate her…hate this whole thing, whatever it is.
I press a hand against the mahogany table before my eye darts towards the desk again as a silent reminder of the line I’ve already crossed. I trace its edge with my fingers, replaying in my mind the way she arched her back for me, her large eyes looking into mine like I was her only hope, her cheeks flushed, lips swollen.
She had trusted me in that moment when she prompted me to take her precious virtue, and now, I honestly have no idea what to do with that trust. The monster in me is already possessive of her and knows what to do to her body, but the human part still left in me ?as small as it is? admonishes me for that.
I sink back into the leather chair and pick the glass up again, staring at the whiskey like a genie could appear from it and give me a magical answer.
I’ve spent years living and dealing with the silence that comes with loneliness, but tonight, it just seems to weigh down heavier than I can remember.
For the first time, I’ve made a mistake I wish I could undo.
The door to my office creaks open, and the sound of boots crunching on the floor causes me to snap my head up.
Cortez lowers his head in a small bow before marching up to me, “ Capo , I’ve just returned from Mendez’s apartment.”
One of my brows lifts, prompting him to speak.
“He’s missing. His house was thrown apart, cupboards yanked open, and stuff strewn everywhere. My best guess was that he’d run away, but there were signs of a struggle. When I looked closely, there were scuff marks by the door. Looks like he was dragged out.”
“Fuck!” my fists bang down on the table in front of me. “Put me on the phone with the Guardian.”
Cortez bows his head and walks out of my office, returning a few minutes later with his phone in his hand.
“ Capo , the Guardiano (Guardian).”
I nod, flicking a hand in his direction to get the phone from him. The sound of his shoes recedes into the night, leaving me alone again.
“Mr. Donatelli,” his clear voice rings out from the other end of the line.
“I see the media’s staying out of my business.”
“My secretary told me what happened with the warehouse. I had to make sure it didn’t become a scandal.” The Guardian is a very thorough man, it’s good to know that he pays his debts as well.
“That’s the least I can do, Donatelli. Are things being tied up on your end?”
“Yes. We’ve finally gotten the mole who ratted us out.” I pick a cigarette from a pack in the breast pocket of my jacket and hold it between my lips. “Bastard sold us out to save some pussy...”
My hand juts out to pick a lighter from my drawer.
The Guardian hums deeply.
My eyes flip shut, savoring the menthol from the cigarette coursing through my nasal cavity for a few seconds, then releasing the pent-up smoke through my nostrils as they flip back open.
“This mole,” the Guardian begins, and my eyes finally flick open, “You possibly got useful information out of him, right?”
I shake my head even when he cannot see me. “The bastard killed himself before I could get anything meaningful from him. He said he doesn’t know who he’s working for but he mentioned that name, Mendez, again.”
“I don’t know anything about a Mendez, perhaps he’s the leader of a rival mafia group?”
I shake my head again. “I know all the mafia heads in New York. None of them go by Mendez. That’s not your cross to carry anyway, just keep holding off the media, I’ll sort the rest.”
“Understood.”
With that, the line clicks off.
If only I could get my hands on whoever is pulling the strings behind the curtains, I’d take my time with them, first chipping off the fingers one by one, then breaking every bone in their joints one after the other.
They’d die only when I authorize it, but that would only be when I’m satisfied with how much they’ve suffered and bled.
I click the intercom button on my desk, summoning Cortez back into my office.
“Bring our tech guy to me. We need to start working on the burner phone.”
Cortez bows, marching out and then marching back in after a few minutes. The orange-haired kid with a backpack slung over one shoulder bows.
My hand juts out towards Cortez again, and he places Luis’s burner phone in my palm.
A flick of my hand sends the phone sliding across the table to the tech kid, who picks it up.
“The owner was making a call on it when we got to him, but the number was private. Can you track it?” I ask, eyes transfixed on his young face.
His shoulders lift in a small jerk. “It’s not impossible, Capo , but it’ll take some time.”
“Do everything within your power to trace it as soon as possible. Capisce (Understand)?”
He nods, walking out of my office, Cortez following closely behind him.
I stare at the desk for a long time, several thoughts running through my mind before finally settling on Aria. Again! I’ve told myself that I’ll let her go, that I’ll keep it strictly business between us so I can protect her from the darkness that surrounds me.
But as the minutes drag along and as the whiskey in my glass dwindles, I know that it’s all a lie.
I’m already far too entangled with this girl.
There’s no looking back now.