Leandro
Sleep was precious to me when I managed to get it, and I had countless nights of not sleeping which never seemed to affect me, so when I found myself staring at the ceiling with irritation coursing through me I could only pin the feeling down to one reason.
I could only see one thing in my mind, usually if I wasn't sleeping it was because of something like not knowing if a shipment was running smoothly, or a takeover going to plan, but this reason wasn't as valid as stress at work.
This reason was purely to do with Artemisia popping up in my head every time I shut my eyes. She was everywhere and it was becoming unmanageable.
Two days ago I held her in my arms as she wrapped her own around me. I could still feel her touch. I allowed myself to engrain the feeling of her body against mine, the relaxation and relief that I felt for knowing that somewhere in her guarded fortress of a heart, she had the ability to be honest with me.
Artemisia cried in front of me, and I couldn't stop thinking about it. Not because I was perturbed, but it made me feel, as pathetic and cringeworthy as it is, special.
And then she'd told me that there was no point in trying to make things up to her, and that she would be out of my life when this job was done with; but I didn't fucking want that.
I'd been thinking about her for thirteen years, just to have her vanish again?
You could say I was being selfish, and maybe I was, but Artemisia Pericelo's absence had haunted my existence for over a third of my life. I couldn't let her go now. Not after there had been other nights before I saw her at that dinner where I'd laid awake, thinking about what she would have been like after all the time apart, if she was still alive.
On her birthdays I would stare at that fucking photo, the only trace of her left after my father and her's burnt through everything that was in her possession. I'd saved it.
The paradox between me having to make sadistic comments and totally unbothered chuckles on those phone calls and then going to my room to stare at that photo, it made--
She had heard me on those phone calls.
-
A progress meeting was taking place at Anton's home where he was hosting a high-stakes poker game, I wasn't keen on the location, but could I complain after they had come to my own home?
I didn't know how to feel, there were different elements involved.
The first was that I felt unsettled, I had no read on how tonight was going to go.
The second was a feeling of impatience, this meeting had only been called this morning by David but I'd been impatient for it to happen since the night of the gala.
The third was a feeling of, well, confusion. I rarely cared for progress, I just wanted to know when things were taking place. Time periods never fazed me, but I knew why I had been so restless for this one to happen.
Artemisia.
It was frustrating me, I was supposed to be getting married in three months and here I was, obsessing over a woman who claimed she wanted nothing to do with me.
But I couldn't stop.
There was nothing artificial or forced about my feelings for her, and I knew I had a long way to go before she started to even consider having a small amount of trust in me, but I wouldn't stop working for her acceptance until I did.
I rolled my shoulders back as I walked up the steps to Anton's home, feeling the tension surging through me. It was clear that whatever they had going on was something he wasn't going to let slip, Domenico had told me about the comment he made when I'd followed Artemisia out of my office last week.
I thought about it as Domenico, Luiz and I were led through the halls into a lift with one of Anton's men. I knew how ruthless he could be, it was psychopathic, the man got a real kick out of torture. Granted, I'd had to do my fair share, but I only ever 'enjoyed' it when this person had well and truly wronged me.
Anton was different, someone could make an honest mistake in his operation and he'd torture their families for days on end without even needing any information from them, and he loved to do it himself.
It made me feel uneasy when I thought about him and Artemisia together, and I wondered if she knew about the slow deaths he would put the children of his targets under.
"Capo," Domenico murmured, I'd been so lost in thought that I hadn't noticed the lift doors opening. I shrugged it off and walked out, turning to see Anton standing by a door at the end of the hall.
"Poker game's going on, Artemisia is playing." Anton said as we walked towards him, "She'll win,"
"She plays poker?" Luiz asked as he shook the man's hand
"One of the best," Anton smirked as he shook mine, I knew the double meaning behind it but remained unfazed as I held his eye. "Please, gentlemen."
We walked into the room to see other men that I recognised from underworld events sitting around the room on sofas drinking as they watched on at the game, I gave them all curt nods, noting that not a single person remotely tied to Manuel's operation was here.
Anton would've done extremely thorough background checks, as did I.
My eyes drifted to the table in the centre though, where Artemisia sat with a pile of chips in front of her as her gaze settled on the man in front of her. All she had left to do was take his chips, and based off the slightly clenched jaw her opponent possessed, it was clear to see that she had won.
"Show your hands," the dealer at the foot of the table announced, and Artemisia placed hers on the table, a smirk on her lips as she watched the man groan as he placed his down too. "Winner is Artemisia Pericelo, congratulations, good game."
The men in the room let out some cheers and clapped, causing that beautiful smile to grace her lips as she reached over and shook the mans hand. He said something that she laughed at before the dealer took her chips into a box and told her he would find her at the end.
"Jesus fucking christ, thats Max Edmon, one of the best poker players around." Luiz muttered, and I turned to him with a raised brow.
"I told you," Anton smirked, "she's one of the best."
I clenched my fist before my eyes settled on her again as she stood up from the table, having to keep my mouth shut as I watched her walk over to us dressed in low-waisted cargos and a black crop-top, mentally scolding myself for not limiting my desires.
"Well done Arté," Anton smirked as he kissed her cheek, she didn't say anything, but she did everything to keep her gaze away from me. "Let's get started, Artemisia has some feedback."
She began walking across the room out of the door, making me annoyed that she knew the place so well. Eyes followed her as she did so but I pushed the disappointment away, knowing that I had to get back into business mode with her.
Leading us down the the opposite end of the dimly lit hall, she pushed open a door and I watched as Jacob and Alvaro stood up, asking her how things went. Alvaro crushed her in a hug, causing her to laugh, and Jacob did the same when his turn was over.
She crashed down on the sofa in between the two men as Anton's, his men, mine and myself all fixed drinks.
I turned to look at her as she chatted away with Alvaro, but more importantly I watched as Jacob looked at her with such admiration. It was a look that men like us only ever had for one person in our lives, and it seemed that now there were three of us wanting her attention.
Fuck.
"Let's get started," she sighed as she pulled out a laptop from a duffel bag that lay at her feet. "I've got a lot of intel, but haven't gotten close enough to him yet to make suggestions."
"What intel?" I asked as I walked over to an armchair that faced her on the other side of the room.
"Well, based off his implication it seems like you've both got a rat problem." She muttered, and my entire body tensed. "This man is a little too trusting, he said something along the lines of, 'the men I'm working against don't seem to realise that the people around them hold grudges.' So I take it he's talking about your cleanup job, considering fathers died in that, and your habit to torture anyone remotely linked to someone who's pissed you off."
So she did know about his behaviour.
However, aside from that the news caused a grave realisation to sink in my stomach. I knew I shouldn't have been so stupid as to not really test out my men's loyalty before I killed off the older generation, but I did it out of anger and impatience. I'd waited nine years to do it, and I finally had my chance.
"Last year you killed off Timo Kozhstan and his family after he caused that warehouse explosion, right?" She asked Anton, who sat behind his desk. He nodded. "Well, his closest friend, Illiya, didn't take very kindly to that."
The TV screen in the far corner lit up, and there were images of Manuel and a person I suspected to be Illiya having dinner.
"This is from a month ago, when they first started talking. I asked a friend of mine who's a PI if he had anything on this guy, and we struck gold." She said, her eyes focused on the TV, but mine settled on Anton who had a look pure darkness on his face.
"And then, this, is Gianluca Restreta," she sighed, and my face dropped, looking to the screen, "same friend sent me these after he first told me about the Anton's man meeting with Manuel. Only your guy is with Raul in Miami."
"Cazzo," Luiz muttered
(Italian: Fuck)
"Given that he's in Miami, I assume he isn't all too close to your plans? If he knows then it's just gonna have to be that we just kill off Manuel and Raul and make the threats after, they don't have another candidate to lead them." Artemisia stated, standing up and handing the laptop to Jacob.
"Only men who know of the plans other than myself are Domenico and Luiz," I said with breath of relief.
"Good, because if we're gonna get anywhere then both of your rats have to die, and it's got to look like they ran." She muttered as she walked over to the bar.
"How are we gonna do that?" Anton rasped, that same look of vengeance in his eye.
"Jacob will get Gianluca, Alvaro will get Illiya. The rest of my guys will work on making it look like a disappearance. Meanwhile, I'll keep entertaining Raul." She said before lifting the glass to her lips.
"And what if they start to suspect something? Two rats disappearing at the same time." Anton said, staring at the glass in his hand.
"They won't suspect anything, we've already got a perfect cover story in place, handwriting and speech imitators to convince the families, women who've got horrible stories to tell about both of them willing to act as witnesses and say that they left on their own accord. We've got a lot to work with."
Anton nodded, and I watched as she walked past me and sat down on the sofa once more.
"And you? How are you gonna keep him busy?" I asked, and for the first time she met my gaze but her eyes remained emotionless.
"A man like Raul loves having a woman on his arm, I've got two events with him this week and he hates them, gets into a habit of getting drunk and talking a lot. I'm in a good position."
"Correction, he loves having you on his arm Artemisia. Don't let his thoughts get out of hand." Jacob muttered, she narrowed her eyes at him but I couldn't help but agree whilst Anton also nodded.
Artemisia lifted the glass to her lips once more but spoke before, "He'll be dealt with by the time it gets that far."
-
Anton
A fucking infestation was the last thing I needed right now, and I made that clear to Olik and Petr, the only two men I truly spoke to, when I sent them out of my office after having smashed a glass on the wall.
My anger was soaring, I had to wait until everyone had left to properly express it as I loaded my gun. I wasn't going on a killing spree, I was just going to end some of the lives that had been really testing my patience.
And then a knock on the door sounded, and it opened gently. Artemisia stood there, with her back against it and her arms folded behind her as she looked at me with no sign of intimidation or confusion.
"Put it down Anton," she sighed, I could see the disappointment in her eyes as she watched me holding the gun in my hand.
"Come here Arté," I muttered, and she did.
The woman sat on my lap and pressed her back into my chest, moving her hair to allow my access to her neck and placed her hands over mine as they gripped her hips.
"You'll get full control over it," she murmured, "you just have to give it some time, it'll give you the upper hand."
My voice of reason.
"I know," I rasped before placing my lips onto her neck, tracing kisses up the side as she exhaled gently. "Where have you been? I haven't heard from you in almost a week."
She moved my hands further up her body as I reattached my lips to her neck, underneath her loose top, and I felt her bare breasts in my hand, squeezing them gently causing her to let out a small moan.
"Busy," she murmured, tipping her head back as I began to graze her skin with my teeth. I grunted against her, unsatisfied with her response, but it didn't stop me. It had been a long time since I'd had her in my bed, too long. "I was just--fuck, I was just taking some time to get my head right."
I was about to speak before she moved her hips in my lap, making me let out a rough grunt against her skin as I squeezed her tits that fit perfectly in my hands.
"Anton," she moaned gently, her breathing was scattered and based off the repeated circling of her hips I could tell she didn't want to wait any longer.
"Go to my room, I'll be there in a second." I rasped and she stood up, but as I stood too I grabbed her hand and pulled her into my chest, my erection digging into her thigh, and stared into those complicated fucking eyes that I'd spent hours on end trying to figure out.
She kissed me deeply, giving me free rein to run my hands down her body and grip her tightly before she pulled away and gave me a small devilish smile.
-
If there was one thing I loved about Artemisia, it was that she fucked like a champ. Sometimes I wondered where she got it from, but then I would stop myself because in all honesty the thought of her with other men made me a kind of angry that I'd never felt before her.
That should've been the first sign. I shouldn't have cared as much as I did, but then I found myself in the position I'm in now and I ask myself how I couldn't care.
Artemisia was lying in my arms as she scrolled through her messages, responding to each one, as I ran a hand up and down the side of her body. I was calm, she was calm, and for a second she wasn't The Black Widow, or even Artemisia, she was a woman that I had feelings for who I wanted to stay.
I'd had sex with countless women, never in my life had I wanted any of them to stay.
Because the truth was, behind Artemisia was a strong fucking woman who guided me through my problems, made time for me when she usually shouldn't have, and let me help her too.
But somehow we were both still stuck in the delusion that there were no strings attached, or at least that's what we both told ourselves to protect our hearts.
I would never fuck a woman in my bed if there were no strings attached, not even in my actual home.
Yet here she was, in my bed, within the walls of where I based my operation, shutting her eyes as she brought my hand to her lips and kissed my knuckle.
"You seemed preoccupied," I murmured, and she let out a small sigh before turning over and looking up at me.
"I think this Leandro shit is affecting me more than I thought it would." She muttered, I nodded understandingly, cupping her cheek and tracing my thumb over her cheekbone.
Her brown hair was so dark that it almost looked black, a complete contrast to the light that danced in her eyes.
"Has he tried speaking to you?" I asked as she pulled herself up to the headboard and sat up against it next to me.
"Yeah, he did the night of the gala." Artemisia said, but she refused to look at me, her eyes set on the floor to ceiling windows across from us. I clenched my jaw ever so slightly, the man was obsessed with her, it was clear as day.
"What did he say?" I asked, hoping that maybe she would give me the smallest insight into what was going on.
"Um, well..." she looked over at me after her hesitation, reading my expression which I kept unfazed, "he said that he hasn't been able to stop thinking about me." She said quietly.
I gave the façade up then, shutting my eyes and breathing in slowly, my jaw clenched as my free hand balled into a fist for a second.
"Of course he did," I muttered, the irritation in my tone present, but Artemisia did what she does best: she calmed me down.
She kissed my cheek before running a hand up my chest and slipping it to the back of my neck, the gentle movement soothing that ball of rage that I could feel building up inside of me. I opened my eyes and met hers, they were kind and gentle.
She didn't need to say anything, the action spoke louder than her words would have. Artemisia leant in and placed a gentle kiss on my lips that I deepened ever so slightly, a hand trailing to her cheek.
The young woman pulled away but looked towards the door before checking her watch and a small flash of sadness passed through her; it came to me naturally, I just reached out for her hand and took it in mine before bringing her knuckle to my lips.
"Stay," I mumbled against her skin, watching as she allowed a smile to come to her lips. I knew me asking her to stay over would speak volumes, much like her kiss had done moments prior.
I wanted this, she wanted this.
The thing was with Artemisia is that no matter how many times we would drift apart, we would always come back together, even if we were both resentful and filled with rage.
"Okay," she smiled before placing a hand on my cheek. She kissed me softly again before lying on her side and looking at my torso, trailing her fingers on the tattoos that cascaded it.
"What does this one mean?" she mumbled, her eyes glowing under the dim light of the lamp. I could feel her tracing the bow and arrow, the eyes of a lion behind them.
"A hunter's weakness," I said, a small smile coming to my lips as I watched her possessed with intrigue.
"Who's the hunter?" She asked, continuing to dance the tips of her fingers across the tattoo as she focused her gaze on it.
"Me," I chuckled
"And the lion? What does the weakness of the Lion stand for?" She asked me, and my heart faltered for a split second as I tilted her chin up and cupped her cheek. I bit my lip as I looked at her for a moment, taking in the raw and vulnerable beauty that only very few on this earth were lucky enough to see.
The answer I was going to give her would provide a whole new meaning for that tattoo, because I wasn't going to let go of the feelings I had for her because of one engraving amongst many on my body.
No. I would look at it and then think about how lucky I was to be able to say that my weakness came into fruition.
"Anton," she said, poking at my torso, "what does it stand for?"
"Man's greatest weakness Arté, a woman he cares for and would protect over himself."
-
A/N
AAAAHHHHHH!
Super exciting stuff
I am such an impatient writer lol, I cannot do slow burn to save my life but I'm doing my best ☺️