Songs of Us ~ A Mafia Romance

three~william

The weasel-faced man spat blood from his toothless mouth, while the remainder of his blood dripped from my fisted knuckle.
I turned to Talia, "If he doesn't speak within the next twenty-four hours, kill him and make sure his bastard of a leader gets his head as a gift"
My head of weaponry and training to newer recruits grinned devilishly at me. "Can I do more?"
I shrugged, flicking through my phone. "I don't care. Just make sure he either speaks or he never gets to, ever again"
As I left, the screams of the Russian spy, that thought he could infiltrate my base, reverberated through the walls.
All in a day's work.

Marcus, my lawyer and best friend, had arrived from New York a while ago and he was making his way to the new club I had acquired; The Silver Serpent. Being the owner of many clubs and Michelin star restaurants across Europe meant that I was seen more as a businessman by the mass. But to those who were in a high end businesses they had their suspicions. And they were right.
I took over the Italian mafia when I was fifteen when my brother died. And just like that,I was pulled out of boarding school and thrusted into the world of faking being legal to cover the illegalities. But there were days that I missed Italy more than anything. The scent of yew trees in the sprawling country home in Florence, the taste of the risotto and the sfogliatelle made by my grandmother. I had lived there till I was twelve when my father uprooted my brother and I here in England; shipping me to some prestigious boarding school and having my brother head the mafia after him.
And now my father was retired and was to drunk to notice anything
And my mother and brother were dead.
And I wasn't even given the time to mourn the people I had loved the most and the only people that have loved me.

The Silver Serpent was a glitzy place. Delicate opalescent jewels hung in teardrops from the ceiling, the shifting multicolored lights reflecting off of them.
"Will!"
I turned to find Marcus holding two glasses in his hand, his signature grin on his face. I hugged my best friend and gave him a soft questioning look.
"How'd New York go? Did you clear it up with Ophelia?"
He gave an exasperated smile as we made our way up to the private rooms. "Yes and no. Your sister managed her first trade smoothly but the Americans are trying to ridicule her for being the head of the Italian mafia in New York"
The familiar taste of gin burned down my throat. "Did they try anything funny?"
"No but even if they did we both know that Ophelia can take them down in a second"
A small smile formed on my lips. Ophelia was two years younger than me and was the first female of our family to head the Italian mafia in a country other than Italy or England. My father would never have allowed it but I knew her capabilities and her tenacity; she was perfect of for the job. And she wanted it more than anything.
She had fought all the sexism and misogyny to stand at the helm of her position, and she was still dealing with it.
But as Marcus said, she could easily knock the teeth out of someone. Ophelia was trained by Talia so she could kill just as easily.

The lights dimmed after a trio of girls sashayed around in white feather boas and pearly smiles. But then the lights turned a mirthful golden, like that of sunlight tearing through wispy clouds, and she walked out.
Her fingers pinched her thighs as she slowly turned her neck backwards seductively, letting her dark ebony hair cascade around her like a halo. And she danced.
It was like watching the melting of night into dawn; soft yet hungry but even more colorful than all the hues of a brightening sky.
She twisted her body upwards and worked the gleaming pole effortlessly. Her eyes trained in one place her brows focused yet her lips fell into that sultry pout that had men hooting.
I gripped the glass, the cold of the ice slicking into water around my palm. And the music slowed to a high octane end and her legs split seamlessly with her arms raised high around the pole, her back arching and chest heaving.
The crowd of men roared and just like that, as quick as she entered, she left; the curve of her ass- I looked away, downing the second drink that somehow arrived when I was too busy being entranced by her.

"Her name, Petrana?", I asked tightly.
The club was empty now the remnants of glitter and spilled liquor being cleaned.
Her drawn on brows rose and a part of me gulped in fear. Petrana was my mother's best friends and she herself was like a mother to me after my own died.
"Don't you take that tone with me! What happens if I tell your Nonna on you?"
My grandmother, although the most loving and caring of people, had a glare to beat my mother's and Petrana's. Not to mention that my Nonna had studied the art of poisons when she was a young girl.
I sighed,rubbing my eyes. "May I have please have her name?"
Petrana smirked. "Pennylene Brandi"
"Her real name not her stage name"
She turned around and began to help the bartender clean the glasses. "The privacy of my girls is what I pride myself on keeping. You want to ask for her name, you ask her and she will decide if you get to know it"
I grumbled as I sat on the bar stool.
She gave me another smirk. "It's good to see you, William. How's-", she glanced at the short bartender next to her, probably a college student, "-business"
I shrugged. "Good"
"Goodnight Petra", said a bubbly voice and a girl with pink hair bounded from the stage.
"Your next shift is tomorrow afternoon, you heard?", Petrana called to the girl.
She gave a enthusiastic nod before leaving.
"I should head out too", I said, noting the bartender had gone to the storage room. "The Russian mole thought he did something but I have yet to see of the rest of his torture"
"Talia I presume"
"She is known for her bloodlust", I remarked.
"How's her girlfriend?", Petrana asked.
At this I curled a smile. "If you want to know, you should ask her yourself. If she decides to tell you that is"
Petrana cackled a laugh as smacked me playfully with the towel she was using to clean.

I left the club just as I slipped my phone into my pocket after calling Emille, my driver, to come around. The pink haired girl who had left barely a few seconds before me was a few feet away with her arm looped around...it was her! They both laughed together as they walked down the cobblestone road. I could hear her laugh in particular growing softer as the distance grew. It sounded like the calm of crashing waves. Pleasantly rough and rocky.

"I want you to find out everything you can about her", I told Emille when I entered, pointing at her retreating figure.
"Do you have her name boss?"
I leaned into my seat. "Not yet but for the meantime keep an eye on her"
Guess I'd have to come back tomorrow and do what Petrana suggested.
I'd get her name from her lips.

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helllooo everyone!
okay looonggg chapter i know i know
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