Ugly Ronney: mafia romance [English]

Chapter 17-2

The room was bathed in zenithal light. Outside, the weather was beautiful in the early afternoon, but inside, everything was gray. I had hated this place from the day I arrived, and now I was sad to leave it. I continued to fold and put my belongings in my suitcase, my mind somewhere else.

"Do you need help?"

I turned back to the door of the room. Yeraz was standing there. His supple, feline grace still managed to surprise me.

"No, thank you. I'm almost done. I didn't have much anyway." I continued in a flat, mechanical voice while putting my things away, "I checked the consistency between the transactions processed for the money earned and lost from your stocks. Everything is up to date. The meeting with the communication officer has been postponed to Monday because the investors of the Caforlia group have decided to move--"

"Ronney," Yeraz interrupted me, "the world won't stop after you're gone, so forget about that." He walked over to me and handed me the last remaining T-shirt on the edge of the bed. "We'll be seeing each other a lot less, but you know where to find me if you need me."

His voice had dropped an octave at the end of his sentence. A sudden anguish rose in me.

"I don't know what's worse: working with you or having Peter give me a makeover every day."

Yeraz smiled and revealed a row of perfectly white teeth. I lowered my eyes, unable to hold the gaze that burned my eyes. Everything about this man was intense, from his voice to his posture.

"Don't let him overdo it. I'm not sure I'd enjoy another Ronney."

I stopped breathing. My surprise was genuine. How could he think I was pretty? I suddenly remembered the invitation to the ballet. In the back pocket of my pants, I took the card and handed it to him.

"I know you're going to be very busy tomorrow, but I'd love to have you there."

After a moment of hesitation, Yeraz took it and slipped it into the inside pocket of his jacket.

"I'll try."

"They'll probably allow you to keep your sunglasses inside."

The sarcasm came to my lips quite naturally. Yeraz gave me a complicit look. He was holding back a laugh.

"You finally won," I said, closing my suitcase. "You've managed to get rid of me by keeping me as far away as possible from your life and your daily routine."

With a serious and authoritative look, Yeraz invited me to continue. I turned around to leave, but his hand suddenly closed on my arm before I could take a step.

"I'm moving you away to keep you close to me, Ronney."

He brought his face close to mine and I didn't back away. I wanted him to kiss me. His lips closed gently on mine and my heart stopped beating. I felt his body press against mine and then his warm tongue gently wrapped around mine. Our breaths weren't in agreement. I kissed him back with as much passion. We kept kissing for a long time until he released his sweet embrace.

Everything stopped there, abruptly, unfinished.

The next evening, my father greeted me, bursting with joy. He ran to me, waving a large brown envelope over his head.

In the restaurant, my entire family was working hard to get the place back in order so that it could reopen as soon as possible. My cousins had even put their lives on hold to help us.

"Ronney, you'll never guess!" my father exclaimed. "Fat John came by this morning and gave us this."

Curious, I hurriedly put my bag behind the counter and took the envelope my father was handing me, a smile still embedded on his face. Inside was a wad of cash so huge that I couldn't count it all. The surprise took my breath away, I turned pale and had to make an effort to pull myself together.

My father exclaimed, "It's a miracle, isn't it? He came to give us back all the money that he and his gang have been taking from us all these years. He also added that the restaurant wouldn't have to pay anything in the future."

In shock, I was unable to answer anything. I felt like I had just woken up from a long nightmare. My parents could finally have a normal life. Yeraz had kept his promise.

My father took my hands and looked into my eyes with gratitude.

"Hija, I don't know what you did, and I don't think I want to know, but your mother and I thank you so much. We're so proud of you."

I hugged my father. It was better this way. He didn't need to know about Yeraz, about the gun I had pointed at him, or about the exchange I had barely avoided with Nino. No, he needed to keep the image he had of me intact.