L'Angelo della Morte | A Mafia Romance

♛13 ⥄ ❝ Dead men tell no tales ❞

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Blood on our hands — there's no telling what you'll find, in the shadows where we hide.

~ Tommee Profitt

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𝐕 𝐈 𝐓 𝐓 𝐎 𝐑 𝐈 𝐎

"Motherfu- agh."

I cut myself off glaring at the sun that seeped through my blinds, blatantly disrespecting my hangover. I rolled out of bed and went directly to the shower.

The cool drops hit my body and ran down the drain, dragging my feverishness with them. Once clean and cooled off, I exited, wrapping the fluffy towel around my waist and leaving the bathroom to get dressed.

Everything went well till I got to my dress shirt; the tremor of my hands making the buttons nearly impossible. After multiple failed attempts I caved, yanking yesterday's suit jacket off the floor and searching the pockets.

A deep sigh escaped my lips as I shook two pills into my palm. I closed my eyes for just a moment, the pounding of my head refusing to subside. With little hesitation, I popped the pills in my mouth and swallowed them.

For the last time, I promised myself.

I made it to my bed and threw myself onto the soft mattress, snatching my phone off the nightstand.

Two missed calls from Vince. Fuck.

I pressed the call button and held the phone to my ear. The dial tone rang twice before he picked up.

"Durante?"

I bit my lip at his tone but nodded slowly. "Speaking."

"You sober? I have a job for you."

I pressed my lips into a thin line before lying smoothly. "Yeah, I'm good. What's the job?"

𓆩♛𓆪

By the time I reached the lobby, I'd cleaned myself up more; slicked my hair back, popped on a pair of sunglasses, and managed to button my shirt. My hands were no longer trembling and the headache was significantly more manageable.

"Finally," Vince sighed and glanced at his Rolex when I pulled out a chair at his table. "That only took you forever."

"It takes time to look this good."

"You look like shit," he laughed humorlessly, "Did you consume a liquor store last night?"

I slid my sunglasses down a bit and glared at him over the frames. "Just barely. Now, this is the part where you get to the point."

"I know you're accompanying Miss Milan to the safeh -"

"Speaking of," I said, holding up a finger to silence him, "That master plan the two of you formulated yesterday? Not happening."

Vincenzo's eye twitched and he drove a hand over his otherwise neatly styled hair. "Durante, that's not your call to make."

"You asked me to be your Consigliere like five times, that's got to count for something." My jaw clenched, sending a wave of pain through my skull.

His eyes widened slightly. "You said no."

"Well, ask me again," I offered, giving him my best smile, "You'll receive a crisp 'yes' this time."