The Mob Boss's Retribution [18+]

40

I hadn't seen Roman until after I had made myself a breakfast of toast and a cup of coffee. My texts were unanswered and calls were left to go to voice mail. There was no point of waiting around for him, I realized.

He had been coped up all day at the hospital with Coralyn and now he was bussed with workload. The situation concerned me yet, there was nothing I could do about it. Even if told the man to stop working for a couple of hours to atleast get his fare share of sleep, he would riot.

The next sensible thing that came into my genius mind was to pay a visit to the newly promoted patient aka Coralyn. I hadn't called her in the morning knowing she was transferred back home from Roman's last text. That was around four.

Which hospital discharges their patient at an hour like four in the morning? I suppose the one that has Coralyn for a patient.

It take me an hour to bake the woman a pie and wrap it in foil and dress my sorry ass up before I walk downstairs where the ever present driver awaits me.

Kidding. I called him before I went to shower.

The suite life of Blaire isn't that fancy. But fancy nevertheless because I wear Balenciaga slippers. See, fancy.

The drive to the Estate of the infamous DiMariano family takes me almost fifteen minutes. Of all I spend talking my best friend over the phone.

Well, atleast one of is getting some tan. I think whistful. And dick.

Ariel says she'll be back tonight and that they're gonna take the evening train. I don't understand why take the train when they have luxury cars? Mind you Devil-o and bubbles too the train on their way to Positano as well.

Maybe it was their thing.

It still makes me grimace at the turned off screen in my phone.

"Miss Anderson?" The driver talks to me in clear American accent. "We're here."

"Oh thank, Pietro." I thanked my driver as opens the door to get out. "I'll be late. Call you when it's time to leave?" I ask already dreading the mile long oath I have to walk.

"Sure, ma'am." He nods.

"Cool." I sigh as I stare ahead where the mansion lies. Groaning I take one torturous step forward. The estate house was old. Ancient even, approximately made in the sixteenth century by Roman's something great great and some more generation back grandpa for his second wife and their children after his first wife died of some disease.

How did I know that?

I'll let on a secret. Anybody wanting to know anything about the family and it's history only needs to butter up Coralyn real thick and she'll talk like the sweetest cannery.  It was sweet. Often it didn't even need buttering. It was awe inspiring and admirable how she moulded into this family. Loved the family she was married into.