The Mafiosa's Thorn

Dress Up

After being led into the guest room on the first floor, El Segador takes some medicine before Nurse Bianca tucks him in. He arranges his pistol under his pillow before drifting off. He tosses and turns. His staff refusing to go down from seeing her in that uniform.

He looks around. His prayer plant by the windowsill. Its' leaves opened to receive sunlight. Doors and windows, locked. Hidden cameras are throughout the house, but he doesn't give a damn anymore. He slips a hand under the covers to take care of himself.

The buildup of her teasing, her dresses, her figure, the nightclub incident, her screaming his name from her room, and now the nursing uniform. He imagines if he had gone all the way with her.

Her hair within his grasp. The beads of sweat traveling down her body. Grabbing the softest parts of her flesh again. Her hand around his neck. The aggressive bouncing of her masterpiece body. Kissing her plump lips.

"Oh, Bianca," he moans while stifling the pain. "Fuck. I want you!"

The stress explodes out of him. His body trembles under the sheets. His mind is almost cleared for sleep. Unfortunately, his staff disagrees and wants the real thing.

He chuckles before getting up to wash his hands. The past 24 hours where he almost caved into death made him question his future.

What could be so wrong about being together? After it's all done? 

He wouldn't have to return to a life of solitude. He can continue protecting Bianca.  She would be a great mom to our children.......I'm in love with her.

Besides the purplish mark on his cheek, the dimpled smile is captured in the reflection. It twitches from the pain before the guilt settles in. He grips the ends of the sink.

"Uno...Dos....Tres....I will always love Elena....Quatro.....Cinco....Seis....She would want me to be happy.....Seite.....Ocho.....It's okay to fall in love again."

He stares at his reflection. His smile didn't become undone. Another chunk of his stress has been casted out.

A pebble of it remains in his hands. When to tell her. What to say. How to say it. He decides to tell her the next time they see each other.

After applying some pain patches, he finally falls asleep.

Hours later....

Soft knocking.

The rhythm of it wakes him up. The darkness of night welcomes him along with the sound of humming engines. 

"Miguel?"

Her voice gets him out of bed. He rubs his eyes. "On my way!" He opens the door. "Bi-"

Her figure takes his breath away. Her brown hair done in bouncy curls to display her beauty. Eggplant eyeshadow that intensifies the power in her emerald eyes.

A black dress with the design of gold leaves that travels from her covered right shoulder down to her ankles. The flawless caramel of her left arm exposed to the air. A sequin belt rests on her waist. She twirls around for him. The black open skirt attached to the belt flows around her.

Just like the red dress she wore when she whipped him, this dress and her body are one. She smirks from the reaction he's giving her.

He squeezes the doorframe to center himself. "Bianca, you look amazing."

"I appreciate that, Miguel. Maybe I should wear this more often."

"Please do. Wait." He clears his throat while closing his eyes. Just focus. You can do it. You can do it. "Bianca, I want-"

Her heels approach him, wanting to know more. His heart pounds louder than a drum. He opens his eyes slightly and finds her within his personal space. His throat is getting dryer than a desert.

He takes her hands into his while letting out an exhale to the side. He rubs her orchid ring to balance himself.

She stays silent while observing him.

He swallows his doubts--

"Signora, we need to leave soon!" Luis' voice calls out from the outside.

"In a minute!" she responds.

Miguel pulls the trigger. "Bianca Petali, I don't want to leave your side when it's done. I want to protect you til the day I die. Because I love you."

Her breath hitches before forming the biggest smile on her face. "I love you too, Miguel."

Her eyes soften from the dimpled smile on his face. His fingers find their way on her jawline before their lips meet. A static jolt travels between them as he pulls her in by the small of her back. A few more kisses before she slips her tongue into his mouth. Their tongues dance before she breaks it.

Their bodies don't want to leave. She gently pushes him against the doorframe. Pinning his hands to the side before licking the tattoo on his neck. The hair under his clothes prickles up. Their lips reunite with dancing murmurs. Her body screams finally while pressing against him.

"Tell me what you want to do when you're healed," she whispers into his ear while grinding against his crotch. She gazes into his eyes.

"I want to -ah- cultivate your heavenly garden. To empty my seed in you. I want you to carry my children!"

She stops and pulls herself away. Her emeralds begin to waver.

Miguel's lips quiver from that unintentional outburst. "I didn't mean to say that. I don't want to rush you or anyt-"

A shaky exhale leaves her lips. "I can't give you that."

"What?"

"I can't explain right now. Just....give me time to talk to you. I'm still happy that you love me. There will be a car sitting out front in case something happens."

She plants a wet kiss on the cheek before her heels click away. Although he's happy that she reciprocated his love, he's left with questions about why she said that. He grabs an ice pack and exhales from the relief on his ribs. He will be patient for her. She's worth it to him.

Signora Orchidea's smile never left her during the trip to the silent auction.

Even Luis is happy for her. "Did you lovebirds finally say it?"

"We did."

The shortness pauses him for concern. "What is it?"

Her right hand grasps the arm rest to prevent herself from sinking through the floor. "He...wanted a family with me."

Her driver looks down, knowing the underlying meaning. And why she's hesitant from talking about it.

"He will still love you, Signora."

She nods to cut off the conversation. They enter the garage near the Lazy Panda where the silent auction is being held. As soon as her heel touched the pavement, she buries the nervousness of that awful truth to assume her role. No one, not even the rat, will see her weakness.