Dominic
I walk into my father's office an hour or so later, and the first thing that catches my eye is the slender back of a brown skin female who wasn't more than 5'9".
Her curly black hair hung loosely down her back, her hips dip and her ass curved delicately in the baggy sweats she wore. Her head hung, her fists curled tightly and her back curved in a tense way.
Father was standing before her, leaned against his desk with his arms crossed over his chest.
I frown and make my way towards them, my strides long and hard. I stand beside the strange girl, yet she doesn't acknowledge me.
I feel my brows pull together curiously.
This was strange, she was strange.
My confused eyes meets those of my father and he smiles at me tightly. I greet him shortly and he does the same.
I watch as her body tenses at my voice and goosebumps break out on her skin.
She raises her head and stares at my father steadily. He returns her stare with a steady gaze of his own, a secret comunication passing between them.
She turns slightly to look at me and I feel my heart stop as she gazes at me behind long black lashes.
Father does short work in introducing us and I reach out to shake her hand, she was timid at first to take my outstretched hand, and when I kissed her, she recoiled slightly.
I knew then, that I wanted her. She was as beautiful as a flower and her skin felt as smooth as petal.
She was exquisite.
Her eyes left me winded and I couldn't help but stare. Father watched our exchange with a critical eye and I knew the wheels in the old bastard's head was turning.
I school my face into an expressionless canvas, leaving them both guessing what I was thinking.
Father already knew I found her interesting, but she didn't. For as far as she knew, I saw her only as a stranger I didn't trust.
She wouldn't be wrong to think that, in fact, it was true. I didn't know anything about her, or knew her enough to trust her, but I did like what I saw.
"I heard that you killed a man tonight." I mutter lowly, hoping for a reply. Her lips part, but no words pass her throat. She looks at the ground and my eyes drop to watch her as she hugs her body closely.
She was scared.
Putting on a strong front, but scared.
"It was hard, I know. The first kill always is." I mutter meeting my father's eyes. His face was expressionless as usual, and I scoff mentally.
Don't I fucking know.
"Kylie, you can leave." Mutters my father in his usual monotone, expressionless voice. She bows slightly before quickly making her way to the door.
My eyes follow the sway of her plump ass all the way to the door.
"Beautiful, isn't she?"
"She is – okay looking. Not my favorite flavor."
"Tch, who doesn't like chocolate?"
"Cut the bullshit Raphael. Who is she, and why's she here?" I ask narrowing my eyes at him. He glares at me and locks his jaw before taking a threatening step forward, I stand my ground and face him head on.
"Watch your fucking mouth and remember who the fuck your talking to figlio, don't force my hand." He sneers threateningly before making his way behind his desk.
I take a seat in one of the plush armchairs in his office and cross my left leg over my right, never once taking my gaze off the cunning man before me.
"Fine then, why is she here, Don?" I ask again calmly, referring to him by his title. He leans forward and staple his fingers together, with a narrow gaze at me.
"Be lucky your my son, and the one to inherit my title when I step down, or else you'd be dead where you sat." He mutters darkly, my body tenses at his response and I clench my fist to control my ire.
He was right, no one dares question a Don. It was viewed as disrespectful and death was the only thing my father found punishable enough to correct such an act.
My father was a very cruel and dangerous man, and he didn't play games.
I had escaped many bullet holes with only the mere fact, that I was his heir. He had to deal with my shit if he didn't wish to switch power to another family in the organization.
He was a smart old man, and despite my work as his protojé and underboss, he was the patriarch of the italian mafia across the five families. He was the godfather of the Gambino family, and the reason behind why everything ran smoothly, and why the families always stayed in line.
That only made my curiosity rise.
Who was that girl? Why was she here? Where did he find her? When did she start living here?
"Now then, let's just say Kylie, is an investment. Or better yet, an asset, I own her. "
"Oh?" I ask intrigued by his reply. My father owned many things, had bought out many businesses and owned a long list of assets, but never one in human form.
"Her father is italian, mother African-American. Her father, Pierre Lombardi, and an accomplice, John Russo stole from us recently. 30 million dollars, and five hundred thousand dollars worth of important data, documents and files – all crypto, stock and bonds related."
"Fuck, all that and she isn't 6ft under? Forget about it." I breathe winded. Marveling at the prospect that after such a hit he hadn't immediately killed the girl after he found her, just for relation alone.
No one cheated the mob, and lived to tell the tale.
"I felt the same way, but she possess talents that are beneficial to us. She's a very intelligent girl, she's quick witted and mentally flexible. She's a fast learner, and her skills in computer science and technology is a major boost to this organization. Her skills, rival that of her father's, who is a master at his craft.
Imagine having an experienced hacker under your thumb, one that's not on your payroll? Like her father was? We could, already have, intersept trades, wipe criminal records clean, we could know our enemies next moves before they even know it themselves.
With her skills, controlled solely by us, we could be untouchable." He says unwaveringly, a dark gleam in his eyes and his lips twisted in a smirk.
"I mean, I suppose with all you've said, there is potential there. But, what about the father?" I ask curiously, my brows knitting together in wonder.
"Lombardi fell off the face of the earth a few weeks ago. We haven't been able to locate him since the hit. Digital footprints? None. It's like he never existed."
My face sours at his response.
I had only been gone for six months, and all this happened in my absence. Milan was definitely an experience, but had I known so much shit was going down back home, I'd have cut my trip short.
"But there's more. There's more your not telling me, like who is she, how she got here." I mutter lowly, stroking my thin stubble. He grins at me like a man with with a master plan.
"Because that information isn't important, if you want to know, go ask her."
"How are you so sure she won't leak our private intel, or sell us out to the Mexican cartels, the Colombians, the Chinese, the North Koreans, or god-forbid the Russains?"
"Trust your father son." He mutters with a short smirk, before standing from behind his desk. He walks to a file cabinet in the left corner of the large office and pulls out a manila folder.
His eyes slide over to me with a dark twinkle and his lips creases at the side with a tight smile.
"She won't." He mutters, effectively dismissing me as he returns to his seat and starts to work on the folder in his hand.
I stand and walk towards him before bowing shortly, then leaving the office.
I had gotten some information from him, but I still remained unsatisfied.
I hated being out of the loop, and I didn't appreciate my father taking in someone while I wasn't here, without my knowledge or approval.
I was supposed to be the future Don and he ought to show me the respect I deserved. Although we only had our major spits in private, there were moments we'd have our disagreements infront of others.
Those 'others' were family however, and nothing that was ever said or done was repeated.
—
I make my way with determined steps to my bedroom. The young chocolate girl still on my mind and filling my thoughts. Her long curly hair, her rich brown skin, the suttle softness her body bore.
Exquisite.
I push my room door open the same time one across from mine gets pulled open, I frown and turn around sharply to face the person that came out of the room.
No one occupied a room so close to mine – but when I see who it was who came out of the room, I was quite please.
This must be his doing.
She wore a big, satisfied smile on her face and it left me breathless. Her teeth were straight and pearly white, and she seemed to glow with her smile.
She was completely transformed from the stoic, expressionless girl I met in my father's office yesterday and the kitchen today.
She almost looked, happy.
Then I notice the iPhone she held in her palms tightly, like it was a lifesaver.
Her smile was directed to the screen and that made my stomach twist unnaturally and my eyebrows pull together in a frown.
Who had she been talking to? Her boyfriend? Who was he? Was he a solider? An associate?
She steps out of the room and her eyes raise to meet my dark scrutiny. Her smile instantly falters, and a look of shock, then fear and uncertainty cross her features.
Her eyes travel down to my hand secured tightly around the doorknob before returning to my face.
"Dominic, hi." She mutters softly, staring at me with a mixture of nervousness and fear swirling in her mud brown eyes.
She inclines her head sharply in a show of respect. A grin threatens to break across my face, but it never came.
Good, she was aware of her superiors.
I take in her baggy sweatpants and tank top slowly, the material hiding her body from my burning gaze. It irritated me and for some reason, irrational anger fills me.
"Why do you dress like that?" I ask harshly, gesturing to her outfit, she looks down at her clothes before meeting my eyes.
"Dress like what?" She asks uncertainly, her brows twisting in confusion.
"Like a boy."
"Excuse me?" She asks on a gasp, shock saturating her features.
I sneer at her distasteful get-up before walking towards her and yanking the phone from her hands.
Not even the whores in our many strip clubs dressed so — illfittedly.
"Hey!" She screams in a panicked voice, reaching to grab the phone from my hand, I catch her wrist in a firm grip and she gasps.
My heart stutters at the bodily contact just like it did the first time we met.
"Who were you talking to?" I question suspiciously. It was totally irrational to ask her such a question, it was even more absurd that I felt a pang of mistrust go through me, and I knew it too.
Everyone had free reign to use their phones privately, I knew this.
So why was I upset when I saw her smiling so lovingly at the screen?
"If you don't know who was on the phone, then it's of no concern to you!" She remarks snarkily, a hard glare edged on her face, her voice dripping of hate and disrespect.
For a second I paused, as my body locked in shock, then the next thing I know, I was pressing her firmly against the wall, a gun held tightly to her forhead.
She yelps in shock and her eyes fly shut immediately. Her body starts to tremble profusely and she whimpers as the cold metal touch her warm skin.
I was boiling with anger.
How dare she!? Who the fuck did she think she was? Did she know who the fuck she was speaking to?
"Who the fuck do you think you are whore?" I thunder menacingly at her ear, she whimpers out of fear and I take small a step away from her.
With my gun pressed firmly at her forhead, she was shaking like a leaf and I was sure she would pass out.
"Are you stupid? Do you know who the fuck you're talking to?" I ask darkly, my eyes turning to slits as I stare at her petrified body, locked and trembling in fear.
"ANSWER ME!" My voice booms off the wall and she yelps before jumping at the thunder in my voice.
She shakes her head rapidly not opening her eyes, her curly hair bounces into her face, creating a curtain to cover her tiny nose and full lips.
"Obviously you fucking don't, so let me tell you who the fuck I am. I am Dominic Gambino and heir to my father's place as Don for the five fucking most dangerous mob families in the world.
Don't let that go over your pretty little fucking head. Unlike my father, I kill for sport." I snarl at her viciously. She whimpers loudly and braces her back against the wall in impending doom.
She was a mess.
I could smell her fear and see it as clear as day that I had done what I was known for – creating fear in people.
But for some reason, my heart cramped in my chest. I was almost as if, I didn't want to scare her, I didn't want her to fear me.
I was frozen in place. On a regular day she'd be dead already, I never aimed my gun without the intent to shoot, yet I couldn't pull the trigger.
And it wasn't because she was an 'asset' as my father claimed. I was something else that, I couldn't quite place my finger on.
That something made me hesitate, it made me stop to think.
Beside the fact that my father claimed this girl an asset, she intrigued me. Killing her now would be a waste, so why not have some fun with her before Rapheal inevitably decides he no longer needs her?
I wanted her, I wanted to fuck her. To feel how her pussy felt clenched tightly around my cock.
I grin mentally as a sinister plan begins to form at the back of my head.
A week, I'd give her a week to get used to my face, and then I'd pounce.
• • •
Who is that one person that makes you loose air the most in their presence? For me, nobody.