The Mob Boss's Retribution [18+]

34

"Made you eggs." I heard Blaire softly mutter from the doorway. "And beans."

"Grazie." I replied donning a silk tie around my neck. Making a quick Windsor knot.

"You have time for breakfast, right?" She asked again.

From the mirror I saw her standing in the doorway of my bedroom. Her slender body donned in a silk pajama set with a matching robe.

"Sí." I lied.

"Great." Blaire sighed. I watched her for a second more. Even though her job was done she still stood on the doorway. Her arms crossed over her chest.

Melancholic and depressed.

She has been for a while. I sigh.

My meeting with Angelo was in fifteen minutes. Somehow, for the first time in my life, I was late. Not that I had slept through the night. Nay.

It was the lack of sleep that took over my already exhausted self. I didn't have time for breakfast. I barely had time to shower.

After I left Blaire's boudoir last night, I had found myself in my study. Buried under a pile of paperwork that could wait for the morning to come. Instead, I worked and kept myself ahead of schedule. And then found myself in a novel that came out the month before.

I hadn't read in a long while. It was hard to find something. Yet, last night when sleep was wadded off by Blaire's words and Maria's memory, I found that pages of a book was my only escape. Business could run with my absence for one night.

Angelo had been keeping up, steeping up when needed and necessary.

"Do you want coffee?" Blaire asked.

"Sí." I replied, spraying my favourite cologne in my wrists and under my collars.

"Roman-" I heard the woman sigh.

But I pretended as of I didn't. I didn't want to talk right now. Hell, I just wanted to get out of here and go to the base. Have that meeting with the captains and then go about my day.

"Do you have to go?" She whispers.

"Sí."

"Can you talk more than a word?" She asked. Her voice soft like silk. "Are you still mad about last night?"

"I'm not mad, Blaire." I replied turning to face her once, I had my routines finished. "I'm just really busy."

"Fine." Blaire huffs. "Be that way. Be the immature one."

Really?

"Be the one to throw a silent fit like a five year old everytime things get deep between us-"

"Discussing about my dead fiance is hardly a deep topic, Blaire." I snapped.

Blaire rolls her eyes. "Whatever Roman. Everytime I feel like we take one step, you push us twenty steps backward."