Chet Baker's "When You're Gone" plays on a record player. It was clear from whom her music taste was cultivated. It was a dark and moody office, and it was her favourite place in the world. The vintage ebony wooden desk, the grand dark cherry leather behind it, the bookshelf wall behind that complete with famous works of dictators, strategics, and philosophers. She loved it all, but her favourite thing in the room was always the man in the chair.
"Maria," the man's voice calls to the maid now behind her. "You may fetch it."
The maid nods and closes the door behind her.
Alessia bows with her right hand over her heart and the left with the envelope
behind her back before the man at the desk. "Greetings, Don Martelli."
The man had the perfect blend of broad shoulders and slender angles. His fisage aged as timelessly as a 1947 Cheval Blanc, the vampiric man had an aura of sinister royalty. In her eyes, with the sharpness of his features softened by the jazz playing in the background, he was both the most feared, and the most pleasant man in the world.
A hand is raised. "Please, it's just us, Alessia. Marcello is fine as always."
A pleasant smile spreads on her lips. Yes, that's right. A name only I can call you; the great Don Marcello Martelli of the Martelli Family Corporation.
She steps up and places the envelope addressed "To Mr. Marcello Martelli" on his desk. "Here's my report."
He clearly notices the blood splatter. "Have you been hurt?"
"It's not my blood."
His graceful smile winds like a snake against the thinning of his eyes. "As always. Good job on completing your assignment. Did you find any difficulty?"
She grins. "None at all."
"As always." He turns to the side of his desk and pulls back one of the drawers, taking out a blank similar orange envelope. "You can take your time with this next one, as I'll need you around more often this month."
She accepts the new envelope from him with pleasure. "Anything special you'd like for your birthday, Marcello?"
He interlocks his pale but strong fingers over the desk and smiles. "My daughter, as always."
She lets out a laugh in reply, and a knock sounds at the door behind her.
"Speaking of gifts, you may come in, Maria," he calls.
The maid reenters with a sleek black gift bag in her hands.
"For tomorrow night," Martelli says as she accepts the bag from the maid and peers inside. Beautiful red lace fabric is folded inside. She looks back up at him with a huge smile. "Oh, Marcello! Thank you!"
He smiles in return. "Of course my own daughter must be the most beautiful at my birthday banquets."
She laughs brightly. "I'll do my best to please the eyes of you and your guests!"
"Alright, now I must get back to work. It'll be a busy month."
She grips the gift bag handle tightly in her hands. "Have a good night, Marcello!"
He nods with a smile as soft as the music. "Goodnight, my Alessia."
Following Maria, she beams the whole way to her bedroom. Your Alessia, and my Marcello.
Like her lounge and Don Martelli's office, her bedroom is found on the fiftieth and uppermost floor of the Martelli Corp. headquarters. A wall of tall glass windows faces the bed, displaying the city lights far below them. Black bedroom walls, silk grey-toned sheets on a king sized bed, and tall translucent curtains to match the wall of windows complete most of the space. In the adjoining room to the right of her bed is her study, and the adjoining room to the left of the door is her ensuite and closet.
"I'd like to try on the dress. Help me, Maria."
"Of course," the maid replies as she closes the door behind them and follows
Alessia into the walk-in closet.
As Maria unbuttons the back of her simple black dress in the wide closet mirror, she asks her, "What happened in the Room while you were waiting?"
If any other staff had asked Alessia that question, she would've taught them a lesson for such a blatant step past the boundaries. However, Maria was different. Maria was her personal maid, and the person she considers closest to a friend.
"The new bartender, Andrews… no, Matthews." She complies as Maria helps her arms out of her dress and it slips down to her feet revealing her pale thin figure. "He served me a glass with a smudge. Can you think of any action more disrespectful towards the owner of the lounge?"
"By no means." Maria holds out the new red dress as Alessia steps into it. "So what did you do? I saw broken glass and blood."
"Well, the glass had to go, so I broke it. And I told him to carve my initials into his hand, to remind him who the owner is. Who owns him."
"I see. Oh my…" Finished, Maria takes a step back. "You look stunning."
Alessia turns her attention to the dress her reflection wears. Perfectly sculpted to her body, the red satin hugged every delicate curve under a thin layer of black sheer with a big bow of the same material behind her. The look was completed by the black lace gloves with black bows at the wrists she wears at every formal event, and slick black Christian Louboutin heels with their classic red bottoms.
"I heard Mr. Martelli approved the design himself, to make it perfect just for you."
Her eyes continue to scan the ensemble. It is perfect, and she smiles pleasantly in the mirror.
Alessia Martelli does what's to her tastes, and when she doesn't do anything, Don Martelli does it for her. Like choosing this dress, and even hiring that bartender for the Room. She's perfect, and Don Martelli's perfect.
"Oh, I'm sure Mr. Lorenzo won't be able to take his eyes off you."
A pleasant smile full of desire winds up on her lips. "Yes, I hope so."
There was one more individual that was perfect in her eyes; Vincent Lorenzo. Vincent is currently also acting under Don Martelli as a special aid, and is in the running to be the next consigliere when Alessia rises to the Don position. He also happens to be one year older than her, has dark hair, the most attractive face and the perfect build, is the acute definition of her type, and has been her long lasting crush since childhood. He, too, lives on the fiftieth floor.
She grins. I wonder what he's doing right now.
"Will you be getting ready for bed now, Alessia?"
"Yes. Put the envelope on my desk, will you?"
"Of course."
The red satin slips off her body and falls to her feet.
"Clean up the mess, Maria."
"Of course."
With not a thing on her body, she makes her way out of the closet and smoothly lies in bed among the cool dark sheets.
Don Alessia Martelli, and her consigliere Vincent Lorenzo.
As always, she sleeps with deep pleasure throughout her body.
Maria quietly lifts the needle, letting the old record player rest.