Soprano Visconti extended the ring to Deloria while he still kneels, hoping that she accepts his proposal.
"Oo! This is a beautiful piece of craft," she said, receiving it from his hands to have a closer look at it.
"Give me your finger," she said to him. Soprano Visconti stuck out the middle finger on his left hand but Deloria declines it saying, " no, not that one." She held out the one she sought after and slots it perfectly into it.
"Keep it to yourself, Mr Soprano," she said authoritatively, not minding whether her actions hurt him or not. "I don't think am going to need that for now; 'bigger than thou' things are on my mind to deal with at the moment." She said while walking away from the kneeling Soprano to have another look at the five skyscrapers promised her by him if she agrees to have him as her husband. She sips from the glass of cocktail held in her hand and it went down her throat noisily.
"Oops, excuse me," she said, looking back at Soprano Visconti with a guilt-ridden face. "That was unladylike." But Mr Visconti was not disgusted at that, he rather smiled.
Deloria shook her head in disbelieve. "Men," she thought to herself, " this is how far they could go, making generous promises they could not be able to redeem to pretty unsuspecting ladies just to penetrate that tight little slippery cavity underneath the protective cover of their skirts." Just then, the door opens and in comes three ladies, quaked with hysteria from their discourse, dressed in skimpy tops and slotted skirts that point to the direction of their prized possession strapped in their pants.
"My oh my, shady things are going on in my absence," said one of the cocky ones amongst them beholding the all-powerful Visconti on bended knee, holding out a ring.
What she saw unsettles the king kong in her which immediately turned her pale.
"What are you doing here, Omarosa?" Asked Soprano Visconti.
"What am I doing here?" Responded Omarosa. " Have you forgotten that this is my house?"
Deloria looked at the lady and knew trouble was here.
"Excuse me," she said, "I was just about to leave."
"No no no, don't leave yet," urged Omarosa in utter surprise.
"What have you done to my fiancée?"
"Me,?" Asked Deloria dreadfully, stroking her chest delicately with the finger preceding the middle one.
"What have I done to your intended one? What an offensive way to ask a lady question. Your query should have been phrased this way: "What has my beau done to himself?" Deloria then dropped the champagne glass on a side stool noisily and cantered out of the door with a contagious grace, leaving others trailed her with bewildering impressions on their faces.
"Girls," said Omarosa, " I would like to have a word behind closed doors with my man, please. You may now take your leave, will you?"
"Oh, sure!" They accepted her request unopposed. Omarosa then turned to Soprano Visconti and said to him, "I never knew you could be so down to earth as in kneeling before a lowly whore."
Vexed by her words, Soprano Visconti sprang on his two limbs and said nothing, staring at her with a mean face.
"You never did that to me when you seek my hands in friendship." She said this while walking around him triumphantly like an army general addressing a prisoner of war.
"Omarosa, you ruined what promised to be a dream date and I will never forgive you for that. Besides, I never proposed marriage to you. Allow me to say what I did back then was a lesser version of asking out a lowly whore as you were.
Omarosa swung at him a wide-open palm intending to land on his cheek a thunderous slap but missed.
"How dare you look into my eye and tell me those belittling words, Soprano? Have you forgotten so soon that you were the hand made of Omarosa? Well, I guess you have. Little wonder, I refused to be surprised the moment I recalled prostitution was indigenous to you. It was entirely my fault that I left it unmonitored. Now, look at how it has festered, rearing its ugly head to a whole new height.
I give you two minutes to tell me it was a slip of tongue or I invoke the powers invested on me by my father this minute to confiscate all that belongs to my father from you. Soprano Visconti has no choice but to extend the Olive branch before she axes him off.
He wobbles words in his mouth and drops them like it's hot saying, " am sorry." feeling sorry for his sins. " But you too did the same thing to me sometime last year and I overlooked it, didn't I?"
"Yea, you did and you deserve an Oscar for that role you've played," she said, rolling her large eyeballs like the wild one. "Everyone has moments in their lives they weren't proud of but I have apologised too. One more thing, always remember that I am the boss in this relationship," she said.
"Friend now?" He asked, stretching out a friendly hand in a handshake.
"Friends," she answered, presenting her fine slender hands strapped with diamond crusted Wrist-Watch and mind-blowing nail decoration. Soprano Visconti dismissed the hand but swept her off her feet and took her to the bedroom where they made hot make-up sex.
Deloria thanks Omarosa for throwing in the spanner in what would have been a bad romance. She descended seventy-five storey building through the elevator with a Mach 5 speed, keeping her finger crossed that Omarosa keeps the playboy to herself until the weather is Clement enough for the taking off of her flight in the next thirty minutes, ten out of which has been wasted by Soprano Visconti.
She hurried to the Tigris inn where she lodges and carts away her belongings. She earlier refused an offer from Soprano to be flown back to Rome in his private Jet, making it the first time in her existence to join a commercial flight.
Alessandro has been in her mind all the while; she missed him dearly. But first, she must travel back to Rome to weather the raging storm threatening to engulf her and Delima Hebdo.
She steps into the departure hall and sat briefly, fondling with her cell phone. She noticed from a blind spot that she was being watched by a googling eye by someone from her far-right but she doesn't know who. She stole a look in the direction like she was checking out time on the wall clock and she caught this young man staring at her admiringly. He appears happy that she was looking directly at him too and felt mushy. He waved at her and she waved back too. Her heart pounds faster.
An announcement from the public address system announcing her flight. Soon, they were up in the sky, slicing through the icy wind onboard Cathay Pacific Airline, Boeing 777 dream liner with her admirer taken a seat right beside her. He turned to her and whispered a 'hi' to her. Longoria smiled in return.
"Geez!" she exclaimed, "he is extremely young and inexperienced; I should be accused of child molestation if I should have an affair with him."
Deloria seems to be a magnet, attracting handsome men to herself that cuts across all ages, races and religions. She was smitten at the first instance she saw him and for the first time since Alessandro left her, her heart has been 'off the shelves' romantically but it seems like she is contemplating a comeback.
"Could this be infatuation or love at first sight?" She asked herself, " but what I feel for him is real; I think am in love with him." She concluded. However, he is 'too' left behind age-wise for her to roll with. He should be nineteen, a bad combo they will say.
Deloria has a tradition of dating only men she thought to be 'men enough' to be able to withstand her demands; men that could take charge in the relationship and make her feel like a woman, and not some kind of fingerlings that would be needing serious pampering from her to keep the flames of the relationship burning. But the stakes are high in this one. The chips are down; she has chosen not to let this wonderful buffet of 'forbidden date' pass her by just because it comes in a disguised form contrary to her list of eligible bachelors worthy of dating her.
"Laws are like cookies," she said, "they are meant to be broken. If I break this one, the world will not crumble with it. Besides, it's just a one night stand."
"Hi dear," he puffed.
"Hello," she responded.
"Am Euphrates," he said, "Euphrates Alren."
"What a name. Are you from Persia?" She Pokes jokes at him.
"Yea, a Koptic Arabian," he said proudly and followed it with a wink.
"On a vacay?"
"Nop."
"Then what brought you to New York in the middle of a pandemic?" She asked, wondering what mum could be so careless as to expose a 'cute' potential heir to the mercy of a virus.
"Taking a break from the hectic learning curve at the Harvard business school."
"Mmm, I see. That was obvious," she said, evading the intense looks from his stares; they are so powerful she felt like they probe deep into her soul.
Euphrates is matured at heart than expected of someone at his age, and exceedingly handsome too. Deloria felt like splashing her tongue over him. She yearns secretly that he inundate her with unanticipated kisses on her lips with those juicy pink lips of his and set the ball of relationship rolling.
Deloria's prayers were granted. Like a mind reader, Euphrates did kiss her delicately on the lips following the dictates of her body and it was spot on! He kissed her so good that she felt her clitoris kick in her pants, yes, you read that right, it wasn't a typo!
The aircraft touched down and taxied to the tarmac where everyone got off from it. Deloria insisted that he accompany her home to her mama, an offer he gladly accepted.
They walked into the arrival hall, clutching hands tightly with an occasional stare into each other's eyes. If Euphrates told her he was a direct descendant of Queen Cleopatra she wouldn't have any cause to object because living evidence was right before her eyes.
The first question her father asked her on seeing another man together with her and not Soprano Visconti was: " Who is he?" A premeditated answer was ready for that anticipated question, "he is an answer to my prayers of an ideal man, daddy." Said Deloria jovially. Her father was alarmed and did not hide his disgust. He drags her to where they could be alone and asked her, "Did anyone saw you enter Sicily together?"
"No, Papa, why did you ask?"
"Thank goodness," he sighed. Do yourself a favour by returning him to where you picked him or else you risk being accused of child molestation." Mr Rafeal turned and looked at Euphrates once more and said, "Look at him, he seems to be happy in the company of a woman far beyond his class, doing what she asked him to do and he does it unopposed like a performing clown."
Deloria went into a long uncontrolled hysteria, with tears blurring her vision.
"Papa," she said, "Euphrates is not a child, he is nineteen and would be celebrating his twentieth birthday in a couple of days. I challenge you to stay with him for some time, you will get to feel what I felt for him. He is such a sweet talented young man." Rafeal walks away in his usual funny steps whistling.
Deloria did not hesitate to feast on the forbidden buffet despite the cold feet developed by her father in accepting him.
"Let the tournament begin," she said, dragging Euphrates lightly on his tie into her room and slammed the door closed behind them.