The story of the seamstress who dressed the Bucci gang.
Takes place before the events of part 5.
Mostly a Bucci x oc but Mista slips in there sometimes 🤭
Curse word warning: contains lots of f-bombs
This book is not about horses 🤪
"Ewwwwwww," Bucciarati said as he approached the scene while covering his mouth with one hand, staying back from the police and ambulance, "Mista, what happened?"
"We were battling and he just fell in front of a truck," the gunman said, motioning over towards the body with both of his hands. "It was wheely gory."
"What?" Bucciarati rose an eyebrow.
"The guy should have steered clear of that," Mista punned again. "Everyone knows if you run in front of a car, you'll get tired."
"Jesus christ, stop," Bucciarati said and pinched the bridge of his nose. "He just... fell?"
"Yea, it was like a freak accident," Mista said, standing with his arms crossed. He looked down to avoid eye contact as he shuffling his feet.
"It looks like an accident," Bucciarati observed suspiciously. Leaky Eye Luca schlepped over with his shovel. "It's the guy, right?" he asked Bucciarati.
"I can't see his face," Bucciarati said.
"His stand was The Knife, with the razor hands," Mista interjected and waved his arms around.
"That's the guy who attacked me, then," Bucciarati said "Didn't seem like the kind of guy to just fall in front of a speeding truck." He paused for a moment before saying, "Luca, was Lira here earlier?"
Mista started sweating.
"Who?" Luca asked.
"The seamstress? From the tailor shop? You said you fucked her the other day," Bucciarati said through gritted teeth.
"I don't know any seamstress, man," Luca said suspiciously. "I stick with the club girls, it's easier that way."
"Nevermind," Bucciarati said and crossed his arms as he narrowed his eyes at Mista. "Get in the car, Mista. Now."
They got in the car and Bucciarati locked the doors and engaged the child safety. "Did you know people sweat when they lie?" he asked as he started driving.
"I didn't say anything!" Mista argued.
"Exactly. You didn't say Lira was there tonight."
"Luca's scrambled brain really gave it away, I guess."
"The accident gave it away. Luca confirmed it."
"What?" Mista asked. "How?"
"Do you know what her stand does besides false memories?" Bucciarati asked rhetorically. "It makes murders look like accidents."
"Ohhh," a lightbulb appeared over Mista's head, "That's mind control, huh?"
"I want Lira to mind control me! She's so pretty!" Number 5 flew out of Mista's waistband.
"Dominate me, Lira!" Number 1 said.
"Numba 5! Numba 1! Be quiet!" Mista hissed. "Wait, why does it matter if she was there?"
"I don't want her involved. It's too dangerous," Bucciarati said sternly, trying to ignore the fact that Mista's subconscious just yelled for Lira to dominate him.
"I dunno if you noticed, but she can hold her own," Mista said. "I mean, she saved my ass when I was about to get my throat cut."
Bucciarati huffed and rolled his eyes. "I lost someone once. In that same club." His knuckles gripped the steering wheel.
"Well, you need to tell Lira that so she doesn't just think your some asshole control freak for no reason. And just accept that she's a useful part of the crew, even if she isn't actually in Passione. And just let yourself love her. You'll be a lot happier that way," Mista said, reclining with his hands behind his head. "Love is beautiful, Bucciarati, there's no point being shy about it."
Bucciarati was too busy thinking about the past.
~*~ 1998
"Bucciarati, let's get you a lap dance," Luca slapped him on the back and waved a girl over. "That should cheer you up after your father's funeral." The girl sauntered over. "Natalia, give Bucciarati the works, he's had a hard week."
"You got it, boss," she said in a low tone as she started to move her hips in front of Bucciarati. Ginuwine's "Pony" was playing in the background. He downed his drink and let it happen, too numb to disagree or do anything else. He watched the moving curves of her body gyrate before his eyes. She turned around and stuck her ass in his face, grabbing his hands and placing them on her hips. She turned to face him again, leaning on his chair with a knee between his thighs as she placed her arms on his shoulders and started kissing his neck. She flung her hair back, sticking her chest in his face as her hands trailed down to his hands and grabbed them, pulling him up from his seat.
Your horny/let's do it/ride it/my pony Ginuwine sang as Natalia led Bucciarati by the hand back to a private room, where she eased his pain. And Bucciarati would return to that private room frequently, to return to her arms, for the next few months. He would take her, and she would hold him, until his hour of comfort was over. He would see the marks in her arms and get upset, and she always told him not to worry. Until the night he came in and she wasn't there.
"Where's Natalia?" he asked Luca.
"She OD'd, man. Real bummer," Luca said apathetically, flipping through a wad of cash.
"She's in the hospital?" Bucciarati asked in a panic.
"No, she's dead, man."
~*~ 2000, back in the car with Mista
"You were in love with the stripper?" Mista asked incredulously.
"I can't believe I just told you that," Bucciarati said through a low, breathy sigh as he shook his head.
"Let me get this straight," Mista said. "Your the guy who thinks the stripper loves him."
Bucciarati nodded his head. "We both said 'I love you.'"
"Were you paying her when she said that?"
"Yes."
"Did you ever hang out outside of the club?"
"No."
"Bucciarati..."
"It still hurts, even if it wasn't real. It was real to me," Bucciarati's voice was meek. The two gangsters were quiet for the rest of the ride until they parked at the house.
"Bucciarati," Mista put a hand on his shoulder and stopped him from getting out of the car. "First things first, tell Lira you're sorry for being an asshole and a sleezy dickbag. But maybe don't tell her you thought someone you were paying for sex was your girlfriend. Second, Lira is real, you don't have to pay her to hang out with you. Just that shows it's already different from last time"
"Mista," Bucciarati looked at him, "if you utter a word of this to anyone, you're gonna wish you were still in prison," he said emotionlessly and got out of the car.
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