(Watty Awards!!!~ VOTE COMMENT SHARE AND FAN IF YOU WILL :p)
A/N: I'm hoping I have a shot at this watty award thing, I'm usually a slash writer so this is new, not the genere so much but ,yeah haha. Please do vote and leave comments It would haelp me and If you like me enough become a narwhale today! That would be really Amazing And I think I might love you forever. I;m trying to use Idea's from assasain's creed , hitman and mafia . so if you have any weapon ideas pls comment in the bottom. Those who like a load of romance... well this isnt it so search elsewhere, basically I'm going to try and put in alot of action,
A/N: Big thanks to Skyedreamerx who helped me edit this. I think its mostly fixed. If you see mistakes pls tell me! To new ppl welcome! I hope you enjoy
Astoria City, Big Cloud Penthouse, 11:23 p.m.
The pop of a top flying off a bottle of frothy Dom Perignon echoed throughout a grandiose penthouse. Laughter and sultry fast paced Italian voices danced throughout the glass room. Leonardo Mancini sat amongst the hurricane of celebration. He sat reclined in a suede chaise lounge. His thin fingers lay wrapped around a bottle of Bourbon. His resolve to last the night sober had disappeared a long time ago.
The amber liquid warmed his insides like a small bonfire in the cavity of his chest. He set the bottle down and leaned back as though he were in deep reminiscent thought. His thoughts were moving at a lethargic pace. They were a dull train of deliberations leading back to the notion that he wanted, no needed at that moment to get wasted. Leo traced the bulge of his 1860’s revolver in his pants; hopefully tonight there would be no reason to use it. But knowing The Don Leo knew to never presuppose anything.
Mafia’s had always found some way to control the worlds affairs in the past. Now things had changed Mafia’s spread like a disease and the poisonous tentacles wrapped themselves around the bases of society. Somehow Leonardo had allowed them to branch out and take over his life.
Leo had not had the brightest of pasts and it was difficult to talk about it without picking at the dark self-destructive part of him. Leo sucked in another swig of alcohol chuckling. He knew every bit of his problem had started with the Don, crossed paths with the ICA and ended with Jezebel. The Nano bugs running beneath his skin whirred and beeped lowly trying desperately to get rid of the alcohol charging through his veins.
His eyes felt heavy with every blink. Leo’s thick brown eyelashes felt increasingly like weights. He could barely remember what he was supposed to be doing, where his wife was, or where he lived. Though he knew for sure that at that moment he was at Angelo Rossi’s Baby shower. His wife and he were having their first child, and he was sincerely sloshed.
Angelo was another unlucky man to marry into the Lombardi family. He had married the Don’s oldest Delilah she truly was an Italian flower with a sun kissed complexion, plump pink lips, dark brown hair, a heart shaped face and lapis lazuli colored eyes.
All of the Lombardi’s were beautiful people. Not in a feel good, warm and fuzzy sort of way, but a cruel, dangerous way.
Latest he’d heard from the Gabe the Don’s consigliore was that he was unhappy about the arrangement with the baby and wanted it aborted straightaway, but Delilah had declined. Leo looked across the room at the beautiful bastard. If he was lucky he would get away with having his face rearranged by a thug. Defiance of the Don was a serious crime in the family. Angelo had been his only friend in the family and he hoped he’d be sober enough to get out of his seat and talk sense into the man.
Like his wife, Angelo was beautiful, an unearthly type of beautiful that could only be achieved through genetic manipulation. Angelo was an earth bound Angel, he didn’t look like he had suffered any rigorous work in a while. The aspect that Angelo was also very much pregnant factored him practically helpless against The Don’s goons.
Small blue boxes with candy floss bows littered across a long rectangular table. Soft orange-gold fairy lights glowed from above giving everything a frosted tinge.
Leonardo took another sip from his bottle enjoying the feeling of the cold glass between his wet, warm lips. Guests milled around Angelo giving him small apologetic pats and telling him words of support. Leo put the Amber liquid in front of his face watching the liquid swirl enjoying the distorted look of the people.
The façade that was Astoria, the small floating city that was told to represent all of love and success was distorted. Just like the people through his Amber glass.
“Get che fisso Delilah ti dico papà sta per avere una misura!”
(Get it fixed Delilah I’m telling you Daddy is going to have a fit!)
"Sai quanto felice siamo stati non ho intenzione di lasciare papà e la famiglia di determinare ciò che mi rende felice, non mi importa se operiamo alla vecchia maniera, I love Angelo e il nostro bambino!"
(You know how happy we have been I’m not going to let daddy and the family determine what makes me happy, I don’t care if we operate the old fashioned way, I love Angelo and our baby!)
“You are stupid you’re going to get yourself hurt,” Jezebel shook her head as she looked back at her older sister. She still didn’t get it. Life in the mafia was not about love and what you wanted.
Jezebel signaled her body guards sending one more icy look at the couple. Two burly men flanked her sides scanning the perimeter in tinted glasses that could see through guest clothes and even into their body to search for impending threats.
Jezebel saw Leo sunk in the corner that he had retreated himself in drowning himself in booze. Her men pushed through the dense crowd of people towards her husband. He was always doing this at parties. Her hips swayed softly as she walked her dress clung to her hips sexily. The air around her smelled likes roses.
“Hey you,” She lightly pushed Leo’s shoulder.
Leo looked up at her with glazed eyes. “Hey yourself,”
Jezebel smiled and pried the empty bottle from Leo’s hands and settled herself onto his lap wrapping her arms around his neck comfortingly breathing in the scent of shaving cream, Calvin Klein and alcohol.
She kissed his golden tanned forehead resting her head on top of Leo’s neatly slicked back hair.
“It’s not fitting for you to be over here sulking,” She whispered.
“I know it’s just, I’m just thinking about stuff,” he said, making a wild gesture as if to explain everything with his circular moment.
“Stop thinking about it, if it’s about the hit you did last week don’t feel bad that was a clean one,”
“No It’s just being here is disconcerting and I just---”
Jezebel snapped her red tipped fingers and shook her head. “Don’t feel bad for Delilah. She goes through husbands like tissue paper, she wants to be un ribelle and her men suffer. This time it’s this unnatural gravidanza.”
“I don’t necessarily agree with your family killing him though.” Leonardo slurred shifting in his chair uncomfortably.
“Baby he’s not family,” Jezebel hissed. Jezebels peacock green eyes bored into his russet ones as she held his face up to her.
“No,” Leo said feeling as if the world was slowing down.
Soft greens and muted blues tickled his vision. Leo blinked and the blues got stronger he could smell dirt and the perfume of honeysuckle flowers in the air. Leo could feel the prickly grass beneath his skin and the warms suns fingers tracing his face. Leo felt calm and safe in this place. The safest he’d felt in a long time. Leo closed his eyes letting the wind wash over him.
“Leo remember that the people that need you the most are your family. The people that love you and you love the most are family. People who are person cattive will never be your family because they are looking to kill you and the ones you care about,”
That voice Leo knew it that voice that was so soft and feminine and wise and knowing the voice of his… he couldn’t remember and that bothered him.
“What are you talking about Leo?” Jezebel said again more adamantly.
“He is my family,” Leo finally said.
Jezebel’s cheeks colored indignantly. “Your views are stunted because of the accident. You barely remember your past or your parents. You know, like us they died in the big fire that was started in--,”
“My village when I was working for the ICA and I found you,” Leo whispered, he affectionately squeezing Jezebel’s arm. “I just feel like there’s some stuff missing from what you told me I’m having all these weird flashbacks.”
Jezebels eyebrows perked up “We’ll have to get you something for that then baby,” She said smiling “I’ll put in an order for more of them today.”
Leo softly pushed Jezebel off of his lap.
Jezebel stumbled in her heelless stiletto. She threw an annoyed look at Leo. Her teal dress fanned out as she stumbled away from him. The rippling of the dress looked like rain droplets shattering. Her lips were painted red and forced into a line that hid her displeasure.
“I think you should congratulate Delilah and Angelo.” she stated distantly looking away. Leo nodded smoothing his suit out.
“Excuse me ma’am,” Jezebel said stumbling past a short stout woman, talking angrily into her phone. Leo knew at that moment he had pissed Jezebel off.
Angelo stood stiffly next to Delilah. His watery purple eyes where scanning the crowd of guests that had shown up for the baby shower. He had heard that The Don was coming and Angelo didn’t want that. He had spent an awkward three hours standing stationary next to Delilah listening to her family members degrade him with their calculating eyes and unapproving smiles. It took all he had not to run off to the bathroom and wait till the party was over. Delilah gripped his hand comfortingly looking at him. He was a part of their Mafia family and his hands where stained with innocent blood.
Angelo knew that Delilah’s refusal to get an abortion would be accounted for and possibly cost him and his baby their life. Angelo took a seat pushing a tired hand through his thick gold wheat colored hair. He closed his eyes remembering what was all he had left of his former life, of his family. The Don had let him keep his ‘Pathetic memories’ and he was grateful. He was also grateful for Leo. The only person in the family that had treated him like so.
Leo was troubled and masochistic he would sometimes fall into random spells of blind ire. Jezebel would come and give him more pills and comfort him. Angelo was sure it had something to do with his past, but he decided to not pry into that. He’d always release out all his troubles to Leo who always seemed to understand. He always seemed to know and there always seemed to be a double meaning to what he said.
“We’re stuck in a trap that both nurtures and kills it’s inhabitant,” Leo had said over a glass of whiskey.
“I think the trap is an illusion,” Angelo replied tucking his feet beneath him.
“My friend you can think what you want but the mafia is an* instrument that must run smoothly and if everyone is not together, eventually the squeaky parts are oiled,”
Leo nodded contemplating his words.
“Angelo Daddy's here,” Delilah placed a hand on his shoulder.
Blood and roses…Angelo’s eyes flashed open and he saw The Don standing before it. He immediately fell to his knees and kissed the man’s ring. He looked at the older white haired Italian man.
“At least you have some sentimental value,” He sneered as he and his bodyguards pushed past him kicking him aside like a peasant on a street corner.
“Delilah I think that I’m going to go home,” Angelo whispered as
The Don sat himself down with a bubbly green apple mimosa.
“Go,” Delilah said meaningfully looking into his Amethyst eyes.
She kissed him, pushed him forward, and watched him leave.
Angelo wiped his brow and stumbled to the Locomoter. He punched in his address in the keypad. Jezebel watched Angelo leave and rolled her eyes. The trash had finally taken its leave. Now this was a party. She shook her head disdainfully and clicked out to the glass terrace that overlooked the city. Cars sped by in a blur underneath her feet as Jets streaked across the sky making pretty patterns. The moon no longer seemed to exist to her people nor did the stars.
Jezebel’s spider-like fingers reached inside her purse whilst her thin mantis like body leaned against the rail of the terrace. She let her hair ripple back and she enjoyed the sensation of danger that coiled up in her stomach. It was nice to feel something besides frustration and well placed euphoria. After all the quarreling with Leo, it was slowly breaking her down.
She pulled out and E-cigarette and flicked the cool aluminum button breathing in deeply the smoke washed over her like a calming breeze. She giggled to herself smiling. She smoked herself silly and Leo drunk himself to tears. They were wonderfully matched. Jezebel shut her eyes, for now she would try not to think, at least for a little bit.
"It’s just ridiculous that she thinks it’s okay for him to bear a child. This is a crime to humanity, it’s almost like being gay and you know we are spiritual people."
An old wrinkled Italian man dressed in a dark blue Ralph Lauren calmly walked around the study his sausage- like fingers traced the spines of old books. The books were held by maple syrup brown oak shelves that preserved the words inked into the wafer thin paper.
“Do sit number 1111,” He walked over to a cinnamon colored leather chair and threw his fists on the table making a loud thumping noise that echoed throughout the room.
“Do you realize who I am number 1111?”
“Yes sir I do.” A woman with delicate Marylin Monroe – like features nodded to The Don as she sat on a glass bench and pulled out a cigarette. “Mind if I smoke?”
The Don shook his head pulling out his own Cuban cigar lighting it with small compact silver lighter.
The woman's painted rouge lips wrapped around the starched dry paper drawing in a breath through the filter.
“I run a monkey business," he said laughing to himself. "A business that has made me a very rich man. This penthouse is only one of the hundreds I own. If I want something.. I get it.”
Blue white smoke curled from the man’s nostrils as he laughed. “I’m a catholic man though. I do my hail Mary’s and I have at least thirty more people who do them for me to wipe my moral slate clean, then I write on it. Sometimes for amusement but most of the time because money is involved. I have companies all over the world and branches even in the smallest of cities."
Number 1111 looked around the room at the strong mix of rococo, Persian and Italian styling. She looked back at the old mafia boss and tugged on her cloud white dress watching the two burly men beside him from the corner of her eye.
“Pretty scary huh?” he asked. The arrogance in his words was an elephant in the room, loud and obvious.
Number 1111 looked at the old man in disgust she almost felt sick listening to his blatant overconfidence and blood lust. “Ah en’t scurred of anything,” She slurred in a thick southern accent.
She tipped her cigarettes ashes on the Persian rugs beneath her cheekily looking back at the Don “You asked the ICA for me knowing my expertise in hunting.”
She let out a puff of smoke her harsh blue eyes piercing through the cloud. "So what are ya havin’ me kill, a big buffalo that eats marijuana?” she asked.
The Don took another drag chuckling. "No It’s just my daughter has a new play toy and he’s an abomination," The Don said sighing.
He pressed a forefinger against his creased brow tiredly. “I want him eliminated but he has special political ties you see I have a lot of big drug dealing chains in Los Angeles and if word gets out that he died, his family could surface and that wouldn’t be good-- ASHTRAY."
A small frail man in a black and white starched suit surged forward placing a crystal try before him.
“Get my guest, here one to,” he ordered. The man nodded scurrying to a cabinet in the back of the room.
“How much is your man worth?” The woman asked, as she watched the Don think carefully then smirk.
“He’s not worth squat in my eyes,” he replied.
She knew he’d pull one of these moves. Even though the boss had bragged about his wealth, he was still an incredibly cheap man.
The woman stood and flung a throwing star into the headboard of his seat. “No Ah don’t play games. Ah know you’re a very cheap man and my prices are exorbitant. If he is priceless ah will take my time and kill him like a prized animal. If not, you shoulda’ got one of your men to poison him,” she spat.
His men moved forward, in what they thought was threateningly. The Don waved them off. Number 1111 smiled mockingly at them.
“Ok 20k,” he said his old black tawny eyes glared into hers.
“40k,” she countered.
“Do you have your own supplies?”
Monroe laughed her blonde hair ruffling. “What type of assassin would Ah be if Ah didn’t?”
The Don gave a pearly milk white smile with the large brown cigar resting precariously between his middle and ring finger. “A sad one that I would’ve fired on spot.”
Monroe woman stood up, her cloud dress floating with her. “Send me the contracted information. I’ll be waiting for your green flag with honor," she said kissing The Don’s ring.
“I want Angelo Rossi dead,” He said, with a certain air of finality and steel in his eyes.