Lando Norris Shorts (Complete)

7. The Return of Andrè Mauritzá (Mafia)

Mr. Mauritzá was always a secretive man. His whereabouts were always widely disclosed throughout his life.

Particularly, he always seemed to be where the money was. Of course, he was pretty much set with 2.2 billion USD, but there is always more money in the world.

As far as I know, he was founder of a shipping buisness for specialty building materials. Iron, steel, copper, aluminum, you know. Things like that.

You were sure that was not it however, the company was an obvious front. Mr. Mauritzá couldnt tell the difference between a cinderblock and a strand of copper wire if he tried.

You were positively sure he wanted nothing to do with you. Although prosperous yourself, accumulating 1.12 billion after being passed down a private hedgefund establishment aqquired by your father. (Your money also pooled exponentially in insider trades, but dont tell anyone that).

Mr. Mauritzá's problem was with your relationship with Lando. Anything in the limelight was not for Mauritzá; for obvious reasons. And Lando being a leader and celebrity in the world's most recognized sport certainly didnt score in Andrè's book. He avoided him like he was the plague.

Lando had been pulling in exponentially larger numbers lately, but that was simply "play money" in accordance to Mauritzá's sums. They had met only a handful of times before.

So that was why you were scared out of your wits when nobody other than André Mauritzá showed up on Lando's doorstep.

You were over, and Max was out on a trip. You couldnt be at your flat due to construction advances, and wanted to take advantage of the time just the two of you. It was pittering rain outside. The foggy, Surrey sky cried down. You were finishing up an old 1950s movie when a harsh knock on the door was heard.

It was 12:43 at night. You almost jumped out of your skin as the knocking persisted. You and Lando shared looks of horror. Prying yourself out of Lando's bed, you reached for your purse which contained a small handgun. Courtesy of Mauritzá.

Lando had the gun, and had bravely stood in front of you with it as you guys creeped down the stairs to his large wooden front door. Lando opened the door. CreeeeeeEEEK. The sound of the door.

You fealt chills rush down your spine as the cold stormy air rushed intk the house. Over Lando's shoulder, you could see who was standing in the doorway.

It was Andrè Mauritzá.

Well to be exact, Andrè Mauritzá and his two husky body guards.

He walked in the door without any words spoken. Lando made it obvious as he put down the gun. The emotionless glares of the bodyguards did not change.

"I am just passing through. I need to borrow your house for a bit of buisness". Were the simple words spoken by Mr. Mauritzá, having a look around.

All of a sudden you felt incredibly underdressed, only wearing a silk pajama set and socks while your father sported an expensive suit avec un black tie.

"Je ne voulais pas acheter de maison. Je ne voulais pas que mon nom soit sur les papiers. Je vais utiliser celui-ci. Dis à ton copain que tu vas partir tout de suite." Mauritzá barked with rage.

(I didnt want to buy a house. I didnt want my name on the papers. I will use this one. Tell your boyfriend that you will leave right now.)

You were the only one else who could speak French. Lando only looked at you quizzically, awaiting a translation. You were afraid to move.

"Père, pourquoi es-tu venu ? Nous partirons à votre demande mais où logerons-nous, vous avez une résidence à proximité ?"

(Father, why have you come? We will leave upon your request but where will we stay, you have a residence nearby?)

"Un domaine confortable à Londres, et laissez votre stupide voiture orange ici aussi. Prends le mien et laisse-moi ici. Je te retrouverai."

(A comfortable estate in London, and leave your stupid orange car here as well. Take mine and leave me here. I will find you again.)

"Oui...oui" You nodded, sweat breaking out on your brow. This had actually been the nicest encounter you had ever had with Mr. Mauritzá. It felt to you like he treated you as a daughter, he cherished the familial connection as he cared to explain only to you in your native tongue.

You appreciated it, but then your heart sank. You concluded that meant he was about to do something horrible.

You had realized this was the price you ought to pay for carrying his name. Y/N Mauritzá. Sometimes you had felt proud of it, but always in the back of your head was the dark shadow weighing down on that name. Mauritzá. It has gotten you a billion dollars, access to (a portion of) your father's expansive luxuries, passed on to you.

But something was unsettling about it. Something you just couldnt put a finger on.

Thanks for reading, if you guys want I can make a part 2 :)