Mafia's Art [COMPLETED]

5: Lady In Red

Santino hopped in the back of his car on the way to a high-class, Italian restaurant. One that he of course owns. He has a meeting with a man named, Michael Smith. Something to do with an alliance.

He stepped in the restaurant making every staff member, tense as they obviously knew who he was. Immediately being led to the back and up the stairs to meet up with this Michael.

The moment Santino walks through the door, Michael quckly stands up signaling for his wife to do the same. Which she does, out of respect and acknowledgement.

"Good evening Mr. Ermes. It's good to see you" Michael says offering his hand to Santino.

"I do not have the time to waste Michael, let's take a seat and get on with it."

"Right," Michael answers "yes of course."

They all take a seat choosing to ignore the fact that Santino had just completely avoided shaking hands. What do you say, when it's such an important man. A man you know, is clearly very well capable of getting away with what he wants and does.

"This is my my wife, Amber." Michael tells, as he is trying to cut down the suddenly very awkward atmosphere at the moment. Santino on the other hand just sits there, serious face and a overall very calm-scary appearance. Call it being stoic or a rather "resting-bitch face" as this generation would say. The man was just... unbothered perhaps?

Amber, Michael's wife, on the other hand sits quiet in her spot like a little peace of decor. Women are always expected to be like that in this line of business. Don't talk, don't stare, don't interfere, just be quiet and smile like a fool. However she takes her time to admire the features sitting in front of her and her husband. The powerful man she so wishes to have. Both Santino and Michael don't notice her, but someone does. Dear Mateo.

See, that is one of the things Santino admires about Mateo. He was very well observant, that comes with benefits when Santino is preoccupied. Just like now. Couldn't ask for a better second in command and, a better friend.

"Mateo, where is my entertainment for the night?" Santino asks to his right hand man, with his thick Italian accent.

Mateo, already knowing what that means, turns to the staff and organises entertainment for his boss. From there onwards the meeting commences and Michael and Santino cut up an alliance deal. Business is put asside for a formal dinner and suddenly the private stage is occupied. The entertainment.

There she is, the lady in red. Wearing a red, long, satin mermaid-dress that embraces her sexy figure all-too-well. She looks ethernal, better in person even. Better than the painting.

Now this is all the works of that man Mateo. What boss wants, boss gets. You see, after he saw his boss intrigued by the beautiful girl with two beautiful mismatched eyes, he went back to Angelo, to 'very elegantly ask' for the girl's information. It was very obvious Angelo knew who she is. All that was needed was just to make him cough all the information out.

After receiving that little information, he didn't wanna be creepy or reckless by doing something such as kidnapping her. He did think about that though, but then figured, that won't sit well with boss- who might just slit his throat. Imagine this. "Oh hey il capo, remember that girl you want so badly... I kidnapped her for you." [boss]

Instead, Mateo used a few connections to get the girl hired at one of boss' restaurants as a singer. After he found it was a talent of hers, just for the night. Which seems to be working All.Too.Well. Italian dishes are served on the table and the girl starts to sing.

She sings: At last - Etta James

'How ironic.' Santino thought. "At last, my love has come along." The lyrics couldn't be more specific. Someone must be playing a joke on him right?

You can not deny she's beautiful, and oh so talented. That voice, that dress, that body, that hair, that skin and those eyes-again. God's creativity ceases to amaze.

"Mr. Santino, you have not touched your food. Is everything okay, you seem to be.... distracted?"

There goes the screeching voice of that bitch, whose one job was to be a decor. Her hand was reaching across the table, brushing slightly against Santino's hand.

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Author's note

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