Mafia Angel

1

Victor

"You can't do it, that wasn't part of the deal!" Nicholas Mascot jumped to his feet, slapping his hands on his desk and I raised an eyebrow, tilting my head. "No, it wasn't" I calmly replied, pretending to brush a few dust particles from my trouser leg so as not to look at the old man's pathetic senseless anger. I looked up from my pants to look at the picture on Mascot's desk.

Did I know that Nicholas Mascot can't pay his debt? Wasn't I the cause of the downfall of his business? Wasn't I the one who orchestrated the robberies of his three casinos that led to Mascot's downfall and the moment he showed up on my doorstep begging me for financial help? Wasn't I the one who tactically and from the shadows organized all this to happen?

Eight million dollars, a year of patient observation, careful research, dozens of bribes, sixteen murders, all because of the woman whose picture stared at me from Mascot's desk and whose eyes seemed to play with my mind and heart. Those green eyes that seemed to be trying to penetrate my mind, eyes that glowed with the brilliance of a thousand suns, the only ones that ever managed to make me hold my breath and desire them to the point of madness.

Elena Mascot.

Exactly one year, four months and seventeen days ago, on January 28, 2017, in the orchestra room of the Ritz Hotel, in New York, those incredible eyes took my breath away for so long that I wasn't sure at what point I took a sharp breath, for not to suffocate. On this very day, during some stupid event, revue or something, I stopped living and made it my life's goal to have those eyes.

"But you changed the deal yourself when you started not paying your installments on time and then stopped altogether. Do you expect you can make a deal with me and not keep it?" I struggled to look away from the photo and looked at Mascot in annoyance. Fear flashed in his eyes when they met mine. Okay, so there's a sense of self-preservation. Of course he can't pay me, his accounts are in the red, his casinos regularly pay out huge winnings, because I personally saw to it that for the last six months they were frequented by the best card players and tricksters born on earth, including giving him had to organize a big poker tournament, from which he lost as much money as his profit for at least three months.

"You can give me a reprieve!" grunted Mascot, falling heavily into his chair. I sighed and waved at Marcus, who approached me and handed me a folder containing the contract we had both signed. "I believe that when we signed this contract" I threw the folder with the copy of the contract in front of Mascot, who opened it with trembling fingers. "You have read the clause in which it is expressly mentioned that I do not grant deferment and that if you do not pay your installments on time or stop payments, I have the right to demand my money at a time chosen by me personally or to receive something in return, equal to the sum due and the interest thereon?" I nodded slightly at the contract and Mascot's eyes fell on the open folder.

"Yeah, but that...that didn't involve my daughter!" he closed the folder with a bang and I sighed, raised my hand and began to look at my nails, as if there was something much more interesting than our conversation. "As well as not mentioning what I can ask for in return besides money, I believe?" I looked up from under my eyebrows and saw his teeth begin to grind together in an attempt to contain his anger. "But this is my daughter!" he roared and jumped to his feet again. This was starting to piss me off. Mascot loves his daughter, I get it, I know they are close, I'm glad for that, but the damn old man underestimates my desire to have his daughter, he doesn't understand that I'm the only man who can make her happy.

"I'm aware" I tried to suppress my irritation for the sake of my future wife, shifting my gaze to the photo again. Even without her presence in the room, just from her picture, from her look, the smile on her porcelain face, the fullness of her cherry lips, the fire in her fiery hair reflecting the sun's rays, skillfully captured by the photographer as a halo around her beautiful face, my heart was racing with the desire to see her, to touch her, to hear her voice, her laugh, to see those green eyes shining with happiness, directed at me and only me.