My eyes tracked each road down. My eyes never leaving the sight of the black Toyota car which was following. I turned to face Julien and soon our car was parked at some backside of a backyard. Between two buildings it's a huge bungalow surrounded by two sizes of bodyguards and press media. I hate cameras and reporters who nudge themselves to get information of every detail a man or woman is working for. They question us on our own ability.
I peer out the window and hell, all the Italians, the Russians, even the fathers of the church came to the charity. Cabs honk, as we are parked into the parking lot and my eyes search for Monica's ability to move around with the cocktail dress she wore. It wasn't the quiet impression of a man to have his first woman stand out into a crowd of gentlemens who starve for blood, sweat, and tears. They enjoy the bodies of filthy animals to cry for mercy. She doesn't have to know the truth does she?
Before we can jump to the hotel and take off the business for the night my breath fills with disgust of every inch of this godforsaken hotel. My brothers were raised here, Vosconti, Boston and Tatiana. It's nothing special, they are underrated. They live for money, pleasure and blood. They were the governors of this realm and feared more than they were respected. It was the golden era to be a member of a clubs association but my blood was cold. They were hot blooded.
I turned my back to take a miserable life of mine.
Alas, all good things must come to an end and they will.
My marriage is unknown, but not today they will fear me to have a beautiful woman beside me who is dependent on my life and so am I. We enter to the grand gate when the beep of an electronic lock sounds through my ears. I spin my face the entryway of the room. The knot in my gut takes on a new meaning when Odious enters the opulent space between us. He's got muscles on his forearm as he scoffs when I push past him taking my wife in my arms.
"Which are you going to pick tonight?" Visconti sounds amused his eyes drop to the chip of gamblers. I am surprised to see he is one piece. His eyebrows having a little scratch as he nods his way to excuse them and faces a stripper beside him. "May I help you? My lady?" A rough manly voice merges my thoughts with an Arabian accent. My face turns to face Monica sitting on a bat stool while looking at the expensive liquors standing on the top shelve.
"Looks like someone bought a cocktail at our party" my blood boils when Boston pulls beside me hugging me with his arms and a liquor glass draining it in one go before greeting me again. An alcoholic doesn't need to go to church. He is well-behaved to be in hell. But my focus is on only one thing- and that one thing is how beautiful is my wife looking even when other men's are calling names on her. I shrug as I plain my coat. "It's personal. You keep out of here" the spit of my roar sizzles on his cheeks.
Odious drags him from me before I can crack my knuckles into his jaw make his life hell. I snap my eyes shut, hopeful it will suffocate my wish to kill him in on go but not tonight. Tonight I am showing them what they can't have. And never will. Monica's eyes are on me and I am frantic towards her. "Join us, Julien we are about to open the page again!" Visconti announces as he slips of his stool to go around a pool table. The same old secret spot. I turn and leave her alone to chat with whoever she wants.
My blurry eyes lift to Marcus when Julien joins me into the drinking obsession. Marcus is off to go to take a call so I am left with an aroggant bastard. "Why are you drinking so much?" His voice shrugs as he drowns my whiskey. "To keep me busy?" I snap back with a grimace "it's not a standard day. It's important to you" from what I have gathered by eavesdropping that they are going to launch a new share in the market and it will require illegal drugs and alcohol made with fresh herbs and spices and some hell to be floating on the cloud.
Not even two seconds later, his face screws up to me "we have more than two hours. Show them what you got Monica. After all you are my wife." I sink my back with the bar stools as I lock my eyes with him. He is giving me his complete attention. Tension hisses in the air when my eyes travel to his slacks down and a growing bulge is present. He is not. I cannot be attractive. My eyes shot up in annoyance as a blonde stripper sits beside him and she gets all the attention within seconds.
Not even my interruption makes this bitch to look other way to find any other man to latch her claws on. "Leave" my orders are delivered with a vicious glare to the blonde as Julien locks his eyes to me. I return to get up and have my eyes washed as a large hands holds me in my place. He groans as I fight back to be get my wrist to my chest. It's not hurting. It's demanding, requesting or begging. As he let's go of my hands and breathes a sharp air before sounding like a jealous bitch "get me home. Tell Marcus to get me home."
The remorse in his eyes when I stopped to look at him was unbearable. It was like itching to ask 'do you feel offended?' as I catch my breathing to lock myself in the bathroom before vomiting every drink I had tonight. My eyes water with every gurgle I make. After a while twenty goddamn minutes, I step out to find Julien leaning against the wall as he lifts his eyes to me with a hope that asks 'had your way of party?' my lips were numb as my mascara was mixed with water to be better I was looking a total shit.