||V i t o||
Vito Schnabel was an intimidating man to say the least. His large frame and muscular build alone was enough to make anyone cower in fear. But it was his eyes that told you he was not to be fucked with.
His green orbs gazed out of the window, impatience and fury burning through him. The silence in the room was deafening. The atmosphere between the four men was tense. Joey sat at one end of the table, a scowl etched onto his face.
The two Russian men sat on the other end, stone-faced. Vito glanced down at his watch, his lips curling into a snarl. 12:45. Were they playing some kind of game? Vito hated it when people were late. Everyone knew that. Yet this Russian was more than an hour late.
It was Joe who spoke first. "Where is your boss? Does he have any idea of the time?" He spat furiously. Vladimir's eyes slid to the angry Italian "Boss doesn't care about time. Boss will arrive when they please." His voice was low, gravelly.
Joe growled, standing from his chair "do you understand that I could kill you right here, right now and no one could stop me?" Vladimir shrugged "I don't fear you. I only fear my boss" his expression remained cold, even when the barrel of a gun was staring him in the face. "Still not scared?"
Vito watched the scene, amused and fascinated. Joe could be a pretty scary guy, and yet this Russian man stared at him as if he were merely a small child. What kind of person was their boss, if Joe didn't scare them?
The Mafia Don had heard about this mysterious and dangerous assassin. No one outside of the agency had seen him and if they had, they hadn't lived to tell the tale.
Naturally, Vito wanted to meet this man. After months and months of attempted deception, each time expecting the assassin, yet always receiving a fraud (weakly-disguised every time), the true assassin finally agreed to meet him.
However, his patience was wearing thin, and just as he was about to demand they call their boss, the door opened. "I would appreciate it, if you could remove your gun from my Enforcer's face." Her voice was smooth, silky but laced with authority.
Vito swore he'd never seen anyone more beautiful.
Her hair was the colour of the night sky. The silky strands were curled to perfection, framing her pale face. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, but her face was otherwise expressionless.
He could see her face twisting with pleasure as she writhed beneath him. The thought had his cock straining painfully against his slacks.
His eyes devoured her small frame. The black dress she wore clung to her like a second skin, showcasing her delicious curves. He imagined her creamy legs wrapping around him as he slammed into her.
"And you are?" His tone was questioning, his voice low, deep. Kathryn shivered. She let her grey eyes undress him. His broad shoulders, the way his suit jacket strained against his muscular arms, were mesmerizing, she struggled to take her eyes off him.
The outline of his no doubt toned chest was visible through his white shirt. The way his eyes ran down her body made liquid heat seep from her core. She could see her hands tangling themselves in his hair, his face between her thighs, imagined him sucking on her skin as he pounded her pussy.
"Kathryn. Kathryn Novaek. You must be Vito Schnabel. Do forgive my tardiness, I ran into some trouble on the way here." Vito found himself nodding, his anger replaced by hot, raw need for the woman before him.
Her eyes slid to Joe, "kindly remove your gun from Vladimir's face before you find yourself with a bullet between the eyes." There was malice laced with her silky tone. It wasn't a threat, it was a promise
His cock twitched, and he bit back a groan. "Joe, sit down" Vito ordered. Joe, reluctantly, sat down. "Have a seat, Ms. Novaek" "call me Kathryn" she removed her leather jacket, exposing her full breasts and Vito cursed inwardly. This was going to be a long meeting.
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