Ugly Ronney: mafia romance [English]

Chapter 4-4

Abigaëlle seemed surprised to see me again when I presented myself at Camilia's residence. Her strict look remained encrusted on her face. I followed her to the office, where Camilia was already sitting in her armchair.

"Please leave us, Abigaëlle. Thank you. And tell Peter to prepare my belongings for my dinner tonight."

"Yes, ma'am."

I walked hesitantly into the room and froze when I saw Yeraz leaning against the wall by the window. He stared at me with his icy gaze without saying a word to me. I wished he were wearing his big black glasses.

"Hello, Ronney."

Camilia began her questions on my week spent with her son. My face on fire, I could hardly answer. I felt the heavy gaze of Yeraz in my back.

"Is Timothy suitable as your assistant?"

"Yes," I stammered. "Both he and Ashley are very competent."

Hearing the name of my assistant, Camilia shook the head, looking frustrated.

"If it were up to me, Ashley would be handing out flyers on Jades Boulevard."

She had the same disdain for her as her daughters. I didn't understand where all the animosity towards the young woman, who was so helpful to me, came from.

"She is much more qualified for the job than I am. Why isn't she in my shoes?"

Yeraz had this kind of contemptuous laugh. I tried not to pay attention to his odious character. Camilia clicked her tongue and said, "She broke rule number two on the contract. Since then, I have been the one to choose my son's first assistants."

"Unfortunately," grumbled Yeraz, who came to sit in the chair near her.

I paid no attention to him. The woman of poise took off her glasses and ran her hands over her face. She looked tired, too.

"Now, Miss Jimenez, what information do you have to give me about my son's business?"

Suddenly uncomfortable, I blinked. The atmosphere became unbreathable. If you don't give her anything, you get your freedom back. That's what you want, right? The image of my brother imposed itself on me at that moment. Camilia's pen tapped nervously on the sheets of paper scattered in front of her.

"Ronney?"

Besides, I imagined the triumphant smile on Yeraz's lips. He must have been relishing the situation.

"Ronney?"

Camilia's insistent voice brought me back to the present.

"Yes, here is the report of the meeting with Hamza Saleh and the collaborators present that day, at his home."

Intrigued, Camilia put her glasses back on and took my notes. She was visibly anxious to read them. With a high chin and calm features, she began to read my report. With his head glued to the back of the chair, Yeraz kept his jaw clenched throughout the summary of my report. It referred to money laundering and rigged tenders to allow Mitaras Almawt to set up several fraudulent companies. The report detailed a punitive expedition carried out by several organizers, including Yeraz, against one of his collaborators. The collaborator had passed sensitive information about several of their missions to a corrupt judge from the opposing camp of the Albanian mafia.

At the end of the reading, Camilia kept silent for several long seconds. Her complexion was pale. She couldn't fight anymore. Her body settled down. She raised her eyes towards her son, who carefully avoided looking at her. Never had a glance struck me so sharply.

"You underestimated your assistant. For the first time in years, I understand what's going on behind my back."

Yeraz stood up so abruptly that I recoiled. He ran his hands over his forehead before regaining his composure.

"I have to continue where my father left off. This is our family. We can't turn our backs on it. This is my legacy."

"Your father is dead, and all of this is gone with him. The mafia has no place in our lives. Your sisters and I are working hard to improve our image while you're tarnishing it. I won't let you do it, Yeraz. I, too, have a share in your father's business and a say in it!"

"For only a few months, because when I'm thirty-one, everything will be mine."

The conversation was getting more and more stormy. I decided to retreat to a corner, near the entrance of the room, to let them argue.

The scene was horrible. Camilia tried to make her son listen to reason, telling him how much she suffered from this situation, that she didn't want this life for him. Yeraz didn't want to hear anything. He accused his mother of not respecting the wishes of his late father, saying he did nothing wrong, and that it was the life he had always known and chosen.

"I won't let you do it," concluded Camilia, threatening her son with her finger. "From today, Ronney will never leave you alone. Every minute, every second of the week, she will spend with you. She will make me a complete report every time."

"Are you kidding me?"

"No! I will know everything you do. Your signet ring, a sign of your membership in the Mitaras Almawt, will go to me on your thirty-first birthday, even if it means reporting you to the city authorities."

Yeraz stood up and towered over his mother. A smile as false as the devil appeared on his lips. He said in a barely audible voice, "I hold in my hands every judge in this state. Politics need the mafia. I am the gray eminence, the link between Sheryl Valley and the rest of this country."

"Not for long," answered Camilia in the same tone.

They stared at each other for a few moments, then Yeraz, furious, turned and walked to the door. When he reached me, he leaned towards me and said in an evil and worrying voice, "Why didn't you stay out of it like everyone else before you?"

I adjusted my glasses, shaking. A shiver of fear ran down my spine. I had rarely had the opportunity to look at a face so closely, especially a man's face, except for Caleb of course, but he wasn't as perfect. Yeraz was so close that I could smell his skin. His implacable authority, enhanced by a gaze as dark as night, sought to intimidate me, and it worked.

He tilted his face and added before leaving, "Welcome to my world, Miss Jimenez. Believe me, I would have preferred to spare you all this!"