𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 pooled at the eyes of the seductress in front of me.
❝You still hate me?❞ The poison in my heart moaned as I bottomed out in her, her wetness tightening around me.
❝Of course I do- fuck! Right there!❞ She crie...
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𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 "𝐏𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐦" 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐞
"You look handsome pepe tama!"(baby boy) My mother exclaims, her smile shining through our FaceTime call.
"Thank you tina,"(mom) I sigh, giving her a small smile as I fix my cufflinks.
"Why the sad face? You should be trying to find you a wife tonight–"
"Ma," I drag out, not wanting to hear her ramble about this topic again.
"Honey, I'm getting old! I need a grandbaby running around me or something." She exasperates, her dramatics dancing through her words.
"Mom, you're barely 45, can you cut it out?"
She huffs in response as I fix the collar on my shirt, opting for no tie tonight. I bid the beloved woman my goodbyes as I head down to my kitchen, seeing that Irene had completed her duties for the day.
I open the microwave and see a mouthwatering meal of hers waiting for me as always, my gratitude growing more and more for the woman who is constantly catering to me.
I lick my lips at the plate, my mouth starting to water at the aroma alone. I ate a bit of the meal before I left, knowing I wouldn't be eating at the event tonight.
I'm lucky enough to have entrusted staff at my disposal, knowing that cyanide won't end up in my system after eating or drinking in my private residence, but you don't have that same trust and faith in those who are on the outside.
I finish up my meal and throw out any scraps before popping a piece of gum in my mouth before heading out, saying a quick prayer to myself hoping that I return to my home in one piece.
"Fratello! So nice of you to finally make it out of the house!" Dimitri's sarcasm engulfs me in a hug as I walk up to our chauffeur's car, his face as straight as me.
"Relax, it's only been a couple of minutes." I chastise, putting some chapstick on my lips.
"But yet if it was me..."
"Yes, if it was you, I would have, yes," I automatically agreed, already knowing where this conversation was headed, to decode my unfairness.
He huffs in annoyance and goes back on his phone, typing away angrily at whoever is on the receiving end.
I furrow my eyebrows but decide to keep my questions to myself, knowing he would confide in me whenever he felt ready, knowing he's a talker.
"Did you see how this year there is a new disclosed location?" my brother asks with confusion in his voice.
" Well, you already know that there's a bigger target on certain families than usual." My answer is vague as I look out the window, hoping that he will get the hint.
