A Mafia Family Ch. 03

"Jesus Eleanor, what the fuck are you doing!"

Eleanor let out a sharp breath and narrowed her eyes at Emily van Woven. "What the fuck do you think you are doing, sneaking up on me?" She raised an eye-brow at the chef and plummeted back on the sofa. From all the movements, the blanket was now on the floor and Eleanor's body was on display.

Emily couldn't help herself from staring at this beautiful woman, eyeing her olive complexion, from the tones legs that represented hours in a day at the gym to the size of her tits. Even her nipples, which were erected, were erotic and had something sensual about them that perfected her body- like the cherry on top of the cake or the icing.

"I was just going to check up on you." Emily offered, taking a seat next to Tony's mother.

Eleanor looked at Emily from the corner of her eyes, analysing the chef - she didn't know it yet but she was subjected to the viciousness of Eleanor from the moment she stepped out from the darkness.

Eleanor Vicenti leaned to the corner of the sofa, resting her elbow on the arm and crossed her legs slowly, inviting Emily to stare at them. "You know Emily, I was wondering why a beautiful woman like you gave her life away to become the chef of Tony - I mean, surely you were really renowned and considering your age, you still have a few more years in running one of the best restaurants in Paris, Dubai or even here in London."

Emily, whose hair was a mess and tussled across her face, sat with her legs bent and knees touching, hands in between, and was staring at the floor while listening to Eleanor.

"What I think happened," Eleanor continued without waiting for a response. "Was that you were in a predicament, not a normal one like an alcohol addiction. No." The Ice Queen shuffled closer to the chef. "I think it was scandalous." She reached for Emily's chin and saw the tears streaming forming already.

Tucking her away from her beautiful face, Eleanor smiled at the poor woman and stroked both her cheeks gently.

Emily welcomed the touch and leaned into it. It was comforting. It had been a very long time since the last time that someone offered such a gentle touch, seductively even, and did not want it to end. She thought about Eleanor's gentle touch, needing for her to drop her hands slightly and firmly cup her tits - to squeeze them tightly - and bring them further down past her stomach and pelvic mound. The voice interjected her imagination and she was forced to look at the demanding emerald eyes she was subdued to from the second she entered the living room, and could not escape from.

"What was it that you needed Tony's help with?" Eleanor continued her torture calmly, enjoying the fact that Emily's nipples were now hardened, clearly aroused. "Was it the fact that you messed with the wrong people and owed some money to them?"

Emily didn't give a hint away, sitting rigidly through the torture of this memory lane.

"Or was it the fact that you liked sex too much?"

Emily's eyes rolled away from her and the Ice Queen decided to probe this more. "You were a sex freak, an exhibitionist perhaps?"

Before the sentence was completed, Eleanor grabbed the hem of the cook's lengthy night shirt and pulled it over her shoulder, exposing a good cleavage and Emily's collar bone. Emily kissed the newly exposed skin and heard a gasp.

"You were a submissive - wanting to be dominated. You enjoyed being used, being fucked graciously and viciously, without any care for you." Eleanor ripped the shirt, causing a big tear right down the middle of the shirt and let Emily's tits bounce in the open.

She grabbed a nipple and pulled Emily closer to her, their faces inches away and she enjoyed the face Emily was putting on; closed eyes, mouth slightly open and her mind focusing on the pain. "You loved being the vessel people could use for their own pleasure, and then be tossed."

Eleanor pushed Emily down on her back and got inbetween her legs and kissed her. The kiss was passionate and fierce. Their tongues touched instantly and both felt the electricity run through them, past their nipples and straight to the centre of their pussies. Eleanor cupped a tit and kissed Emily's neck, her other hand fondling with the panties.

Pulling away briefly, Eleanor removed Emily's panties, then placed herself between her prey and let her fingers explore a clearly wet slit. Emily moaned at the new touch and couldn't help herself from biting down on her lips.

"More." She begged.

Eleanor smiled devilish. She lowered herself until her tongue began licking Emily's sensitive pussy, playing with the puffy lips and entering it and tasting her. Putting two fingers into the depth, she licked Emily' clit, fingering her perfectly and aggressively, feeling Emily squirm under her fingers.

"How much do you want it?" Eleanor asked.

The question registered with Emily, but she had no authority or power to form a coherent answer. Her lips were shaking from the incredible sensations her pussy was subjected to. Every lick was calculated, like Eleanor knew where her weak points were precisely and abusing them. Her legs began to shiver from pleasure and she squeezed them snake-like around Eleanor, moaning louder and louder from the incredible feelings.

"I asked -" Eleanor's tone was impatient. "how much do you want it?"

"A lot."

"What would you do for it?" Eleanor asked teasingly.

Emily gasped from the pleasure. "Anything you want me to."

"You are mine." Eleanor Vicenti said simply.

She smiled brightly and slapped Emily's pussy brutally. Emily shrieked from the unexpected action and instantly an orgasm flooded her body. What Eleanor did not expect were the actual floods spraying into her face. She was a squirter, and a powerful one too.

Calmly wiping her face with the ripped night shirt, the ice queen narrowed her eyes at Emily, who was trying to catch her breath, eyes closed and an absolute mess. "You're in for a night of trouble, Ms Van der Woven.

**

The room was private access and intended for purposes such as this meeting. It was darkly lit and not very decorative. Walls were naked and painted in a boring beige, a few deep cracks giving the otherwise bald walls an artistic depth. A nasty smell lingered, a mixture of urine and bleach.

Tony, when first stepping foot into the place, did not flinch. It was disrespectful towards him to arrange a meeting in such a disgusting place. But he wasn't bothered. He calmly pulled one of four old wooden chairs out, balanced improperly and scratches against its woodowork, and made himself at home by lighting a cigarette and smoking casually.

Precisely 40 minutes and three cigarettes later, and Tony had kept an eye on his watch, the door was opened and the same man who had shown the room to Tony, bulky and dressed in black, was holding the door out to the two people joining the room.

He assumed they were patted down as much as he was. Not bothering to stand up and shake either man's hand, he remained seated and his eyes wide while studying every detail of the two gentlemen. The older of the two, was a perfect representative of the body and an antique in the business. He was one of the last of the old generation remaining in power and the way they handled business was undisputed and fearsome. Dressed in an expensive suit and polished leather shoes, everything about the man was clean.

The other chap was a brat. Dressed in jeans, a hoodie and sneakers, he was slightly overweight but nevertheless emitted a powerful presence. He was like a fat heavyweight boxer, and one thing tony always remembered like an old bible saying, was that looks can be deceiving - even his own.

"Vincent and Don Georgi." Tony spoke between breaths of smoke. "What a pleasure to finally meet in person.

"I wish I could say the same."

Vincent was speaking and Tony noticed the disapproving glance his father directed at him. A battle within the house, he thought. That ought to be interesting, and perhaps a crucial fact that could lay the groundwork for the future.

The trio were now sat and silence encompassed the round table, their eyes flicker between each other. Tony stubbed the cigarette out and turned to business. "Look, we're far off better as allies than we are as enemies-"

"Get the fuck outta here. You fucked with wrong people - I will turn you into fucking shit until nobody can recognise you anymore. You don't get to treat my sister like a prostitute, threaten to release the footage of her and come here offering peace you cocksucker."

Tony looked at Vincent and then at Don Georgi, the question in his eyes and the Don shrugging apologetically. Vincent Amani was known for his short temper and violent outbursts. "If it is okay with you, Don Georgi, I would like to speak with you with the absence of your son over here."

Vincent abruptly stood up, the chair dropping, and slammed his fists on the table. "You motherfucker, I ain't going no where, and you better come to fucking terms wi-"

"VINCENT." The Don shouted.

Silence overwhelmed once again. Vincent looked at his father, cheeks red and fists clenched. He shook his head and followed his father's unspoken instruction, muttering.

Tony pitied him. Emotions were suicide.

"You've got what you wanted," The Don began. He spoke softly, choosing every word carefully. "You made your point." He cut a cigar and waved it beneath his nose, taking in the harsh smell and appreciating it. He bit down on one end and held the fire emitting from the chrome zippo. A few seconds and several puffs later the cigar was ready and its thick smoke circulated the stiff air of the room.

Tony smiled. "You made a wrong move Georgi."

"I did not approve such stupidity, but unfortunately for all of us, my son seems to think it is acceptable to do whatever he likes without knowing consequences that can comeback and bite him in his arrogant ass."

"I concur," Tony's index reached his temple and stroked it staring at his opponent. "But you should have handled it better. You are still the Don as far as I've heard."

"And I will continue to be for the long future." Don Vicenti let a cloud of smoke fly into the centre of the table rubbed the thick cigar between his fingers. "We will release Vanessa."

Unexpectedly for the Don, Tony roared from laughter. "You think you need to give me Vanessa back?" He abruptly stood up and glared down at the Don. "You are underestimating who the fuck I am. She already is in safe hands, and I promise you, no one will make that mistake again." Gripping the Berretta and exposing its slick black metal, Tony aimed at the powerful man in front of him and smiled. "One has to pay for their sins." He laughed hysterically and fired shot after shot at the legend.

The gunshots were the signal. Tony reached for the cigar, which had rolled across the floor, and placed it between his lips, holding a lighter to it and taking puffs. He sat down again and heard the running outside before the security guard and Vincent showed their faces through the door, guns leading the way.

"Care to join?" Tony smiled. "And before you lose your temper, let's not pretend you loved your father and that you actually give a shit about this. You have wanted this for so long, and I am giving it to you on a silver platter."

He saw Vincent's eyes cross between him and the dead body of the great Don Georgi Amani. Shock was clear in his eyes. He had not anticipated a hit in the middle of the day, carrying such risks. Better for me, Tony thought. At least Vincent knew what kind of a fucker he was.

"Let's talk business, shall we?" Tony passed the cigar over to the heir and watched him hesitate at first, only to give in and smoke it anxiously, eyes lowered to the floor. He began coughing dramatically, clapping his chest with a fist trying to clear it from the smoke he just inhaled.

It didn't take long for hands to shake upon a new found agreement, bonded by blood. Tony smiled at Vincent, who remained with a blank expression. The same blankness he had on his face when he saw the dead body of his own father.

When Tony stepped out of the building, butting his suit and looking in all directions, he sighed deeply. He removed the cigarette from his lips and flicked it off to the hot concrete. Ever so slowly, he raised his hands high above his head and turned around. The surrounding police cars created a lot of noise and lights, attracting attention that Tony was not fond of.

The ride to the police station was swift. The inside of the police car reeked. He couldn't quite place the bitter scent, perhaps a stench of dried sweat and piss? The police radio echoed to the back and Tony kept an ear on it while observing the shifting building and people. The cuffs were dug too deep into his wrists and they pained slightly, but it was tolerable. A sweat bead trickled down the side of his handsome face and the heat did not help the smell of the car.

"You think just cause you're rich, you can get away with a lot of shit huh?"

Tony's eyes glanced through the metal brackets and to the passenger seat. The copper who spoke was slightly overweight. He was bald with a thick beard, most likely to draw attention from his shiny head. He wore sunglasses, the sporty kind, and a rubber digital watch. The driver seemed more fit. Veins were popping across his forearm. He worked out, often. A chiselled and stubbled chin. This copper was young, close to Tony's age. Getting bored, he turned his head to the window again and continued daydreaming.

"We'll show you what the fuck you done. Killing Georgi Amani? Bad motherfucking move. You don't know what you done son." He paused to take a pull from the now lukewarm coke. "The entire city will want your head." He spat.

Tony stopped listening to the nonsense. He had accounted for this and even expected it. Although he had expected to be shot on the scene instead of the calmness that faced him. As he gazed at the moving buildings, it struck him that he missed home. He missed London. And certainly he missed his bed.

They parked right outside the police station. The fat copper harshly handles Tony out of the car and grabbed him tightly by the collar, pushing him forward and into the station. He pushed down on a seat and cuffed to one of the poles nearby, like a fucking dog. It was an uncomfortable seat. What did he expect? It was cheap plastic. Hit butt began hurting already and he sighed again. Hours ticked by like this. They made him wait, on purpose, and it was obvious. They loved abusing their powers, making this process as painful and memorable to the criminal. He decided that the system was based on logistics but executed by the emotions of the representatives, the executors of the law.

The sun had set and it was dark outside. Tony's neck began hurting and his lower back ached. The hand cuffed to the pole began stinging. He looked to his left and met eyes with another man, cuffed to a different pole. He nodded and Tony felt inclined to nod back.

"What you in here for man?"

"Shot somebody." Tony said coolly.

"God damn brother, you don't look like you a killer. You look like a wife beater to be honest with me."

Tony cocked an eyebrow at this newfound friend. "What you in here for?"

The question seemed to have been hilarious, as the man busted into a fit of loud laughter. "Shit dawg, you see that lady over there." He nodded to a woman sitting adjacent to them across the room.

She wore a tight outfit, exposing a lot of skin. Her make-up was dark and her hair not taken care of. She smiled at him and stained teeth confronted Tony. He grimaced.

"She your lady?"

"Kind of man, but not like that, you think that low of me?"

Tony glanced at the man's clothing, not what he was wearing but the condition they were in. "Yes."

"Shit, at least your honest man. Nah, she my lady but at the end of the day, she come to my room and hand me a wad of cash, you feel me?"

Tony nodded. He understood. "You're her pimp."

The man giggled again as if that was the most hilarious statement on earth. "You quick man."

"So how did you two get busted?"

"She was on her knees, sucking some dick man when the blue men pulled up."

Tony was confused and it showed. "So how did you get arrested?"

"I was trying to fuck the bitch from behind."

Tony palmed his forehead and began laughing. "You're right, this shit is hilarious." He said and both of them started laughing.

Another hour went by and Tony was called by his name. He nodded to his new friend and trailed ahead of the copper and was finally getting processed. His fingerprints were taken, mug shots and a heavy interview, not necessarily in that order.

Eventually they hauled him over to a phone.

"One call is all you got, so better make it a good one."

Tony stretched his neck and shoulders. He had waited for this moment since the arrest on the scene. He had memorised the number prior and punched it in, hearing the line ring before hearing the familiar voice.

"Who is this?"

"Tony Marinetti."

There was silence on the other end. "You know better to call me directly."

"I do, but got to call in that favour you owe me."

Tony could hear the smile through the phone. "You know what the price is."

"You'll be alright. The shit I got on you will be destroyed, but just to let you know, you won't be free of the devil's grip."

"I'll take my chances, what do you need?"

"A pardon."

Another pause. "I don't think I heard you correctly."

Tony Marinetti was losing patience. "I got arrested for murder."

"You're not one to get arrested for icing somebody." The man paused. "Who did you kill?"

"Georgi Amani."

This pause was slightly longer. The tension was heavy. Another series of laughter exploded into Tony's ears.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me."

"I wanna be out of here in the next 45 minutes, if I'm not I'll release the video of you fucking your dog and then your daughter. You can kiss your political career goodbye. I won't stop there, you know me. I'll leave you fucking high and dry without a single penny so much that you wished you fucked your dog a little longer because that would've been the last time you got some good sex going."

"Alright, alright. Jesus." Was all he said. The line went dead.

Tony put down the receiver and was hauled back into the same seat he previously occupied. The man and woman were long gone and he enjoyed the quietness that came with the late night. He rested his head against the back of the seat and closed his eyes dozing off.

Not entirely sure how long he was out cold for, but a kick waked him. It took a few seconds for his vision to clear. He saw the same big copper whom arrested him, now in normal clothes and brutally red face. Tony knew what was coming.

The copper, in silence, uncuffed Tony, pocketed the handcuffs and stepped back from him. "Have a good day Mr Marinetti. Your file has been deleted and any information destroyed, including the iris scan and finger print. You're free to go.

Tony simply nodded and stretched his neck.

"How did you get the District Attorney to drop all charges against you?" The copper asked.

"By being friends with the president." Tony said and walked out of the police station.

He saw the S-Class waiting for him, Enzo leaning against it. He slid into the cool car and welcomed the comfort of the fine leather seats. The car began to roll and Tony leaned into his seat glancing out the window. Enzo was thoughtful and brought refreshments, a change of clothes, deodorant and mouthwash. He would get to it in the minute, but for now he was exhausted.

It was brief, but he definitely saw it. Not far from the station, the same woman from earlier was on her knees and handling two dicks belonging to coppers. She changing between them, sucking and licking away. The man from earlier was standing to the corner and watching the entire event.