The Mafia Sacrifice

98

Damon King

"You were fucking scared bro," Orlando jokes as we stood by a table holding glasses of red wine in our hands.

I laugh not caring about his joke. "For my wife... I'd always get those type of emotions."

"Glad I could radiate those emotions," A familiar hand and angelic voice appear behind me. I turn to see her looking as beautiful as she said she would look.

She wore a white silk-like dress. In her words a 'vintage satin silk, with a high split, strapped white dress'. I smile at her detailed description apart from mine.

She runs her hand around my neck, placing a small kiss on my lips. "Mr.King," She says with a soothing welcoming nod.

"Mrs. King," I mirror back in unison.

"Mind if I steal your boss for a second?" She asks Orlando while her eyes remained on mine.

Orlando nods his head in my peripherals. "You're the boss, Mrs.King."

A confused smile cross her lips as her eyes drops from mine and looks at Orlando. "Thank you, but here we are friends."

"We'll as friends..." He takes an awkward step forward grabbing her hand. "I'd like to apologize for yesterday. I should have controlled my emotions and not take it out on you."

Her smile fades as a reassuring expression appeared. "I understand why you reacted that way and I won't hold a grudge against you for that reason." A smile finds it's way back onto her lips. "I forgive you. I forgave you when you've done it. And all I want to do right now is celebrate this with you, my friends, my family, and my husband," She glances over at me.

He nods his head. "Thank you Starr."

"No. Thank you," She draws him into a hug. Once she dropped it, she looks over her shoulder to which I assumed was the dance floor. "Shall we?"

I nod my head. "We shall."

Starr Marie

Staring into his eyes, I found comfort. Those hazel, sunset brown eyes. The ones that you could get lost in. And not realize that you've been stuck in them for decades—or even centuries.

We swayed to the music slowly. Letting impeccable thoughts run through our minds. Letting our hands roam around each other's body in the appropriate places. Keeping not much of a distance between us.

It was perfect.

And I didn't want it to end.

"What are you thinking about?" Damon questions me.

I let my hand that was around his neck trail up to his curly hair. I fiddled with it in amusement. "I'm thinking about this exact moment," I respond. "Like how perfect it's been. Just you, me, and the people who stand behind us."

"We do have quite a lot of people supporting us," He laughs.

"Yeah we do," I smile. "I mean— everyone's here..." I say before letting the thought of both of our mothers not being present pick at my brain.

My smile fades. And as if he was my reflection, his smile does the same.

"I know this may seem a little outspoken but... if your mother was here— would everything be the same?"

He squints his eyes, though no anger appears. "I'd like to say yes in a way," He pauses. "My mother would have tried to do everything she could to help me find happiness. Even if it was a woman who would be right for me. My father would have went for money reasons, my mother— would have went for the heart."