I laid on the bathtub, arms folded over the edge head resting on my folded arms as the warm water soothed my tired skin.
I felt like moving a muscle would burn four thousand calories.
Angelo has drained the cold water twice and filled the tub with more hot water as I kept laying inside.
Motionless, not moving a muscle.
Because I can't.
And I do not want to.
I feel as if a train went over my body and left me in the rails to feel all the pain, physically.
"Tadpole?" I heard his voice but didn't have the energy to look up and watch as he sat on the corner edge, splashing water over my exposed shoulder.
His hand resting the place he just poured water on. Silent.
"Baby?" He asked pushing the hair out of my face.
"It's been hours, come on." He urged gently.
His voice soothed my insides but I didn't want to leave this.
I felt comfortable.
I even forgot the hunger bubbling inside me from skipping dinner.
If was five nights at a stretch I skipped dinner.
"Can you drain it again?" I asked without assessing his request of getting out.
Angelo pulled the plug, I felt the water, not cool yet but somewhat, leave my body covering me with chills.
It lasted for about two minutes before perfectly warm water engulfed my body once over again.
Angelo uses a small pitcher to pour water over my shoulders, the only exposed part of my body apart from my head.
Minutes after a knock on the door made him get up and leave only to come back a second or ten later with a plate.
The warm smell of chicken soup tickled my nose making stomach growl in anticipation of the long needed food.
Angelo reclaims his seat before massaging my head, gently and voicelessly urging me to look up at him.
"Let me feed you, baby." He said, the plate in his hand as he stirred the steaming soup.
Soundlessly, I sat up pressing my back against the bathtub, the water splashing about my body making the only sound around us.
Angelo fed me the soup with bread rolls.
There was some sweet sandwich with jam and butter with sugar sprinkles that he handed me placing a kiss on my head and leaving to put away the plate.
I nibbled on the sandwich, thinking back to last night.
What happened?
I went in to the bathroom to freshen up.
I peed and washed myself with the shower head and walked to the wash sink turning on the tap.
I felt tired.
Wobbly from Angelo's ministrations.
My body felt light from all the yelling I did but-
But-
I am pretty sure that wasn't the reason I fainted.
There was some pungent smell all over the room. I think back.
It was sweet.
Too sweet. I think.
It tickled my nose as soon as I started the tap and I felt a bit dizzy.
As if the smell was closing the active part of my brain.
Angelo returns, his body clad in a black silk dress robe, front open paired with the matching set pajama bottoms.
"Angelo?" I whispered getting his attention.
He walked toward me and reclaimed his seat once again, hand brushing my unruly hair back behind my ear. "Sí, tadpole?"
"Last night." I say frowning, thinking and rethinking it all over again.
Am I mistaking something?
I am surely not mistaking the smell.
It was a smell that belonged in laboratories and hospital not in the club.
It wasn't a cologne, not a perfume-
Or a narcotic.
"Last night?" He asks, still caressing my hair, my sandwich half eaten and forgotten in my right hand.
"Last night, in the bathroom-" I say looking up at him, for the first time this morning.
Really book at him.
He looks exceptionally handsome, with his longer then usual hair s mess, jaw and chin covered with stubble.
Eyes tired yet holding strength and power in them.
He pushes his hair back with one hand, making it fall on either side of his head in the same way it rested before.
Why can't I look away?
"What?" He asks.
"Hmm?" I ask.
"Why are looking at me like that?" He asks finishing with a chuckle.
Like a psychopath?
"You look good." I say honestly.
"Oh?" Angelo raises an eyebrow almost teasing me. "I look good do, I?"
I nod. "Really good."
He chuckles his hand that was busy caressing my hair cups my cheeks and he bends placing a kiss on my lips.
I let him.
Sometimes his kisses make me feel good.
Alive. On the inside.
As if there was still a tiny little bit of a ray of hope.
But that's what scary isn't it?
That tiny itty bitty ray of hope.
It is ready to fuck everything I gain.
Standby like a machine gun.
"What about last night, tadpole?" He asks. "Do you feel sick?"
I shake my head. "I don't think I collapsed because I was sick."
"No?" He asks.
I shake my head.
"There was this sweet smell, in the bathroom last night, Angelo." I say.
"Almost chemical like but really sweet." I add. "Like a perfume but not really. Chemical." I add.
His eyebrows pull together.
"It came as soon as I turned on the tap." I say recalling. "And I felt light in the head-"
"You're trying to say that it was some sort of chemical or- drug?" He asks.
"I suppose." I say sitting straight. "I don't know- but I didn't feel sick to faint, Angelo."
He nods, his palm still cupping my cheek.
I can see in his eyes the knobs and bolts of his head turning.
Retrieving his palm from my cheek, he fishes out his phone dialing a number.
"I want the tank reservoir of the club checked, the ones connected to the suite and send an investigation squad. ASAP." He snaps before ending the call.
"How much do you recall?" He asks.
I shrug. "Only that much, I turned on the tap, I washed hands and I was about to reapply my lipstick but remembered I left by bag by your table so I was almost on my way out-"
"Did you see anyone?" He asks. "Or- felt- something?"
I shake my head. "No. There was nobody. The window-" I point at the bay window like window but small in size, covered with with curtains.
Angelo gets up, striding toward the window, ripping off the curtains to a side.
It was open.
Jesus.
I get up from the water, grabbing a towel from the basket beside the tub, wrapping it around my upper body, under my arms, as I get out from the warmth enveloping me.
A shivering sensation running over my skin as I pad toward Angelo.
A burly man invades our privacy, pulling attention toward himself addressing Angelo by his tittle.
"Ricardo." Angelo jerks his head towards the glass enclosed double shower.
"I need the bathroom searched. Any trace, anything and the window examined, the sink. Look for any type of anesthetic or narcotics that shouldn't be here."
"Boss." The man nods as a number of men, dressed in black enters the room, boxes of equipment in their hand.
"Come on." Angelo places a hand on the small of my back, my hand clutching where the ends of my towel meet as he leads me away from the preying eyes of the men.
Inside the bedroom, Angelo hands me his robe.
The same one he was wearing.
It smells of him and marijuana.
I shrug the silk on my body.
It falls at my ankles and trails some more behind me, as I take a seat on the edge of the bed.
"Do you think we have an invader?" I ask tentatively watching Angelo pull out his phone and dialing yet another number.
"Precisely, tadpole." He says. "I fail to find a reasonable explanation of you fainting all of a sudden, if you refuse to feel sick or unwell."
I left my sandwich at the bathtub. I think all of a sudden.
Disturbing.
I crinkle up my nose as I think back to it.
Ew.
"Roman." Angelo answers in a calculated tone and explains it to the Don, what I said.
Word to word.
They take almost five minute over the phone before Angelo ends the call and pockets his cell.
Sighing Angelo walks toward the large window, curtains pushed to the aides and one of the panels of the window open, letting in fresh morning air.
It was almost ten am, I was up before nine and had been soaking in the bathtub since, trying to rub away the shivers breaking out like crazy all over my body.
And plus washing away the tiredness.
I flop myself down on the bed, occupying the same side I did last night as I watch Angelo's naked back, his pajama hanging low from his hips as he leaves a ribbon of smoke out in the fresh air.
Pulling the covers to my chest, I try to block away the coldness radiating from inside.
Weird.
It's not even cold season yet and I'm already shivery.
It might be the morphine they pushed into me. I think.
Maybe the nurse pushed a bit too much.
"What are you thinking?" I can not help but mouth my words watching the man smoke away.
"Nothing, in particular." He voices his thoughts.
"Tell me." I say.
Angelo chuckles.
"You wouldn't be fascinated."
"Try me, Capo Bestone." I sigh, ribbing my arm. "Are you cold?"
Angelo turns to face me, the matte black roll of tobacco burning away from his grip.
"No." He answers in negative, eyes concerned "Why?"
"It's the morphine." I say waving it way. "Probably a side effect."
Angelo finishes the rest of the cigarette in one long drag walking over to the bed and squishes the rest of it in an ashtray resting on the bedside table, taking a seat beside my sprawled body.
"You smoke too much." I say eyeing the crystal ashtray.
It was half way full.
I suppose Capo Bestone smoked enough joint to fill up the thingy.
"You worried about me, baby?" He asks inching closer and pecking my lips, tasting bitter of the tobacco.
"About your lungs, Angelo." I mumbles against his plump, moist lips. "About your lungs."
"I'd die young." He says, as if it was like 'I'm having dinner' or 'it's just toast'
I feel a tug inside my chest, a tiny pang of pain and panic, at my heart, radiating as a result of his sentence.
I momentarily go back to the time when I was paranoid, all sorts of contact between us blocked, nothing on him came as an update.
Spending night awake, my tears, my only company as I kept imagining all the worst case scenario in my head.
It was not so long ago, when I silenced my sobs with the pillows, when I tried anything and everything to block away the pain resulting form the emptiness.
"Don't say that." I whisper.
Angelo graces me with a tiny smirk at the corner of his lip as caresses my cheek with his knuckles.
"Does it scare you?" He whispers.
"What?" I ask knowing completely what he's referring to.
It does, Angel. I think mentally.
It scares me more then anything.
"Me dying on you?"
"No." I reply, my voice firm.
"I'll kill you, if you die on me, Giovanni."
He smiles grabbing my hips, pulling me on top of him as he lays back down on the bed.
I place my palms on his bare chest, the front of my robe open, so my core rests on his hard stomach as his palms dig into my shaped hips.
"You want to kill me, baby?" He asks. "Yeah?"
"I'll kill you, if you dare die on me." I say. "Period."
He smirks adjusting his head on the pillow.
I trail my palms up his chest feeling the carved muscles underneath my cold skin, eyes roaming over his body as I take my time fondling him.
His eyes engrossed in my actions, hands stationary on my hips as trail my cold palm up to his broad sculpted shoulders before bringing them down to his stomach before moving myself down on his body, his bulge pressed against my core.
My fingers trace the V line of his hip bone disappearing under that silky material of pajama as I play with the knot that keeps hidden what's underneath.
I haven't been in this position, for a while. I think to myself.
Angelo was not often fond of letting me top him, however when he did, I made sure that I took as much as I could get from my man.
His cologne, mixed with the smell of nicotine makes my head light slightly.
Pressing my core slightly harder against his stiff girth, I rock myself back and forth slowly, feeling him grow more breath me.
"You're playful." He retorts making me bite my bottom lip, giving him a tiny smile as I lean forward, my hands on the pillow so his head caged between my hands, my breasts almost touching his chest.
"I like to play." I peck his lips, hand withdrawing from the pillow trailing down his biceps, forearm, fingers intertwining as I bring his hands up and place them on either side of his head.
"Sometimes." I add.
"Are you still drugged?" He asks almost stifling a laugh.
I shake my head, eyes boring into his dark orbs.
It has been so long since I've been this way toward him- I think.
This playful, tension free, calm but needy.
Not wanting to make me forget but remind me, of everything that makes me Ariel.
I wonder if he remembers that part of me.
The carefree, the dancing part of me?
All I've been toward this man is cold and distant and stiff and expected him to comfort me with warm arms while blaming him for everything that went downhill.
He has his fault yes.
His actions resulted in tremendous heartache and mental pain for me, yes.
But-
But-
He never talks either.
He might be hurting but not yet realising?
He might recognize everything in his head but not really, refusing every action on his part.
Not every people grieves the same.
Does he grieve? I wonder.
Does he even realise what happened between us?
What we lost?
Does he even care? I think.
Does he care for me? At all?
A little bit about me? About us?
My face instantly clouds with the melancholic expression but we're saved by the knock on the door.
"Capo Bestone?" The voice speaks urgently from the other side if the room.
I get down from Angelo's body, closing the front of my robe using the tie around the loops at my waist while Angelo gets the door open and closes it behind him after he steps out of the room.
I cover myself using the coverlets pulled up to my chin once again and try to gauge the direction the situation might go in.
At first the ambush at the DeMarco estate. Then the attack on Angelo. Now this. Invasion.
I don't understand.
Who is messing with us?
Or did we mess with someone else now they're taking the payback?
But it's not coherent.
Why the club?
And why the bathroom?
This makes no sense. I sigh.
Angelo returns almost fifteen minutes later when I am in the verge of dosing off by watching the ceiling.
I sit up watching him enter through the door, a stack of paper in his hand as he places them abruptly in the bedside table.
"What happened?" I ask frowning at the man that came in and much his demeanour changed.
He lights another cigarette dropping the black and gold pack of treasurer on the bed.
I am going to hide this. I think to myself.
"Are you sure you saw nothing in the bathroom?" He asks out of the blue taking a seat at the foot of the bed, slightly facing me.
"Positive." I reply with a nod.
Because I really didn't.
"They found shoe prints." Angelo says frowning. "Heels, size 39."
I'm a size 37. I think to myself.
"I'm a 37." I say.
"It was chloroform." He states. "I suppose whoever was inside, hiding or initiating some plan, sprayed the gas."
I nod. "I suppose."
He takes a drag out of his cigarette and gets up grabbing the stack of papers from the desk.
"Do you have my phone?" I ask when I see the man on his way to exit.
I need go call Blaire.
I've been so selfish bringing her here and leaving her alone and then passing out like a stupid person.
"I want to call, Blaire." I add my necessity.
He hands me his cell after using a finger scan to open the device.
I hit Roman in face time cause kill me he won't allow my babe a phone.
Asshat. I think mentally.
Blaire's face flashes across the skin, she has a pink glittery face mask on.
"Hey, girlie." She drawls out. "How ya feeling?"
"I feel fine." I reply. "You look cute."
She shakes her head. "Blaire feels like taking care of herself."
"You should." I say. "Period. Take care of your face. It's pretty, it deserves love."
"Yes." She squeals. "You hear that?" She yells for someone.
"Buy me those eye mask too next time. Those gold ones. I wanna feel expensive."
I don't hear a response from the man.
I doubt he leaves a response.
I shake my head at her and Roman's interaction.
I am honestly glad that the man is letting his guard down, even though slowly but he's letting her in.
And I am glad for that.
"Tell me 'bout you." She says. "How's everything with Devil-o?"
"Okay." I nod.
"Do you want me to hit him across the face?" She asks almost excited. "God knows, I've been missing something since morning."
"No." I shake my head at her suggestion. "We're okay."
"Yeah?" She asks.
"You wanna hear about me?" She adds excitedly.
"Yeah!" I say excitedly making myself comfortable against the pillow.
"So hear this, when we got to the inn last night." She whispers.
"And we did the hanky panky cause I was mad and Roman was mad back at me for pulling a show, whatever that means-" She continues.
I nod, enthusiastically. "In the butt?"
"No." She shakes her head. "Not in the butt."
"Okay." I say.
"And In the morning I made Roman breakfast." She says hushed. "I mean I've made him toast before and all that?"
"You made him toast?"
Blaire nods. "And eggs too and beans. But today I made an effort and made him nice Italian breakfast and coffee and he said they were good."
I nod.
She's so excited she cooked!
Hell, I am excited she cooked!
"He liked them?" I ask.
She nods. "He said they were delicious and all."
"That's so sweet, babe." I say.
"I suppose." She grins. "I've never made real food nobody."
I grin.
"We also talk a lot." She adds.
"Sometimes he let's me know work stuff and all and the gets frustrated saying I intervene too much-"
"You don't." I say. "You're perfect."
"I know right." She huffs. "And so I said let's watch a movie and I wanted a cute face mask so he had someone got me this." She points at her face.
"It's cute!" I argue.
"I wanted the galaxy one." She says. "Hearts and stars glitter ain't cute."
I shake my head.
"We need a spa day." I declare.
"Yep." She nods. "Let's go, do spa day. I want to feel luxurious."
"Yes." I agree.
Blaire and I talk some more about mundane stuff before goodbyes when she tells me to wait.
"Do you really feel okay?" She asked frowning. "You looked pretty sick last night. I was so sure you needed a doctor-"
"Somebody broke into the club last night." I say, as a mater of fact. "It was chloroform which she sprayed."
"She?" Blaire frowns.
I nod. "With a 39 shoe size apparently-"
"I'm a 39 size." Blaire pipes up, suddenly. "And I'm 5'2 maybe three-"
"What do you mean?" I frown.
"Anne is almost my height-" She says thinking deep.
"You think it was Anne?"
"They had a meeting, right?" Blaire asks. "And I saw a lipstick on Angelo's desk. That wasn't yours, it was French brand and- and-"
I shake my head.
Anne would need some purpose.
She's working with the family, not against us.
Or is she?
"I'll call you later, Bubbles." Blaire says. "Around after lunch yeah?"
"Okay." I smile. "Spa day tomorrow, you better remember!"
"Yes." She says. "Yes, woman, I will."
I didn't see Angelo till lunch but I had his phone, which meant he was probably in the office out of the bedroom or somewhere in the club.
But Blaire's doubt made me doubtful as well.
I wasn't sure if Anne wore 39 shoes.
And I wasn't sure how she got up wearing shoes or got down anyway.
This is too messy.
I glanced at the still lit screen of the phone, my finger hovered over the message icon.
Ignorant, I opened the app.
Service provider. Roman. Security. Alberto.
More service provider. Auto generated internet offers. Bills. More bills. Account transaction. Leonidas. More account transaction. Some more money withdrawal.
Such a hypocrite. My mind sneered at me as I scrolled to the last three days before closing the app.
Shouldn't be doing this. I think to myself.
No.
He's said over and over he wasn't doing anything with anyone.
But I still scroll down through the call log.
Roman. Security. Ricardo. More security-
Only one call to Anne, that too two hours prior of mine and Blaire's arrival.
Security, bank, Alberto, more security-
The door opened abruptly revealing Angelo who frowned at me as I had his phone clutched in my hand.
"I checked your call and texts." I said truthfully trying to submerge the voice of my brain calling me a hypocrite.
It made him frown deeper.
"Okay." He said like it was no big deal.
I frowned at his answer handing him the phone which he pocketed.
"Aren't you- mad?" I asked.
"Why would I be mad?" He asks like I had my marbles loose.
"What did you find?" He adds.
"Service providers." I say.
He laughs, placing one knee on the bed and grabbing my neck pulling my face closer to his.
"You wanted to find something more, baby?"
I shake my head pecking his lips.
"Maybe a secret number with a fake name?" He jokes. "Telling that I'll be home for dinner or something like that."
I shake my head.
"Or maybe how I'll fuck her to sleep?" He smirks.
I shake my head, feeling more guilty that I checked his phone.
I peck his lips again. "Sorry."
"My mother wants us for dinner tonight." He states. "A little before dinner actually, sounds fine?"
"Sounds fine." I reply.
____________________________________
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
This chapter feels a bit in the cute side, urgh.
See, I was ⅛ impressed with myself about how last chapter turned out but now idk. Now I am like 'bitch stop writing, you're embarks sing yourself'😒😒
But idk if we'll have another cute chapter soon or at all or whatever cause so~ y'all enjoy or not.
Lemme know how much you hate this chapter😭
I didn't even post a sneak peak on IG, I felt that much degraded with myself. Smh.
-November.