ARIEL
"Hello." I said into my phone that had rung just as I was collecting my things to go home for the day, without checking the caller id.
"Micetta." The dreamy, all too familiar voice warmed my entire body, loosening my muscles that had been wound tight by the 8 hour work day.
(Kitten)
"Hi." I sigh, making him chuckle. "I thought you said you were busy till later?" I ask him, putting things into my YSL tote bag.
"I was, then I cancelled those engagements, because you will not be available later." His drawl sounded casual, as if he wasn't talking about what were probably billion dollar deals he had meetings for.
My dad wanted me home to meet people I just had to meet for some reason.
"You didn't have to do that." My voice involuntarily softened.
"I wanted to baby, come on down. Im waiting out front." I grin to myself, rushing to get downstairs, every second in the elevator is more tantalizing.
When I finally see him, standing against the familiar black McLaren, I can't help but giggle. The butterflies at just seeing his face, even though his expression is hard, glaring at everyone around me, are going haywire.
"Hi." I grin up at him, even in my 4 inch heels he's still got several inches on me. His face briefly softens, and he leans down to kiss my lips leaving them tingling in his wake.
"Hi baby." His mouth almost tilts in a smile, before he turns to open my car door.
We get in the car and drive off, talking about our days. We decide to get a late lunch at my favorite pizza place nearby and I smile down at our holding hands as he drives.
It had been 2 weeks now, since our first unofficial date. We had been making time after work almost every day to see eachother, and spending all out free time at his penthouse. More specifically, in the master bedroom.
We'd yet to do it. But I was loving what we were doing, although soon I would love to do that too.
We'd headed so fast and so hard into some unique, personalized form of a relationship that we had barely had the chance to figure out the semantics and be careful. Neither of us was concerned about practicality though, we were too lost in the moment.
______________
"Let's go to the Penthouse." Griffin says against my lips, kissing them straight after as we sat in his parked car outside of Russo House after lunch.
"I can't, I'm sorry, we have dinner with some important people tonight. My dad insisted I be here." I apologetically pout. He kisses it.
"Fuck that. We'll throw money at it." He says. I laugh, stroking his jaw with my fingers.
"I promise I will see you tomorrow. I'll even stay the night." I grin when he rears his head back, eyes almost glinting. "You are so cute." I kiss him.
We couldn't stop kissing eachother. It was getting out of hand.
"I am not cute, micetta. You need a reminder it seems." He growls, nipping at my bottom lip. I shriek, laughing. We finally sober up enough to pull away and as I am straightening out my pencil skirt, he catches my attention again, this time with a serious expression. "When I see you tomorrow, I have something important we should discuss." He says, an uncharacteristic nervousness peaks through his usually composed expression.
"Okay? Should I be worried?" I ask, my spine chills in the sense of impending doom.
"No." He reaches out, cupping my cheek. It brings me some comfort. "I have to tell you something about me. My family. It's a life altering situation-- for you." He hesitates. "But I want to talk about it when we have more time."
"Okay." I whisper. Now I'm scared.
"Don't worry, tempesta. Go." He gives a reassuring kiss and I force a smile, getting out of the car and waving to him as I enter the house, lost in thought.
What could he possibly have to say? That they were aristocrats? They're mormon so he can't be with me? I don't know. What's life altering?
"Princepessa." I heard Zio Marco's voice call out just as I was climbing the stairs. I turn around to greet him, but falter when I see his grim expression.
"Hi Zio, is something wrong?" My eyebrows knot.
"Come with me, your dad and I would like to speak with you." He gestures to the back of the house where his office is.
When I sit on the couch in his office, across from him and my dad, I realize I've walked into an interrogation of sorts.
"What are you doing with Griffin Moretti." My dad asks, straight to the point. My heart drops to my stomach. Even when it shouldn't. We're not doing anything wrong. I shouldn't feel guilty.
"We're just... hanging out." I wince at the foreboding scoff that he makes.
"You have no idea the kind of man he is. You have no idea that you are so far out of your bounds here, you do not even understand that you stand amidst a pit of vipers, waiting to get first sting." My dad booms. I jump at his loud chiding. I have never ever seem him so worked up about something I did.
"Dad, he's not the devil incarnate. It is like if I were dating any other man." I wince at the icy glare he sends my way.
"No, he is different in every sense. This is my mistake, I should never have sent you here, your mother was right." He grunts.
"Emilio." Zio speaks for the first time since we sat down. "I think you should tell her. Now is as good of a chance as you'll get." He pats my dads arms.
My confused eyes bounce between them, both their expressions are tight and regretful.
"Ariel." Dad sighs in resignation. I fix my eyes to him. "You know that we belong to a family of great legacy and traditions." He starts. I nod. "What you don't know is that the very legacy we speak of, stems from the another, much longer standing legacy of a family, more powerful and strong than ours ever will be." he looks into my eyes.
"We serve a higher family title, we are a piece of a bigger puzzle. An organization that runs not only beyond Italy, but beyond Europe. A global legacy, one so powerful, that it the most well known to everyone in power around the world and simultaneously does not exist to who they don't want to exist to." Zio continues.
My eyebrows furrow. Then as the gears turn in my head, my mouth parts.
"Are you... a Mafia?" My eyes widen, cold icy shock douses my blood, and my skin blanches.
"Sí tesoro, we are men of The Italian Mafia." dad confirms.
My throat clogs, my eyes tear up on there own.
"How is that possible, you are CEO's, you have businesses, legitimate ones. You're criminals? How does the police not catch you?" My brain run haywire, everything too much for me to process at once.
"It's not like that. We are not incriminated in the worlds eyes. We are Entrepreneurs, and we are respected members of society. The Mafia in real life is much more discreet and sufficiently swift then they show in those movies." Zio explains with distaste towards the end.
I shake my head.
"None of this makes any sense." I whisper. I collect my thoughts enough to remember how we started talking about this. "What does any of this have to do with Griffin?" I ask, my voice shaky.
Unease crawls up my spine and curls around it in a vice, rendering me immobile at their apologetic expressions.
"In the Mafia, we have ranks. The Godfather is the highest rank, he is the Don. The one we all answer." Dad slowly explains. I look at him, still very confused.
"Our Godfather has always been a Moretti." My blood runs cold and my fingers feel numb clamping down on the couch.
"Griffin Moretti is the Don's Son. He is the Underboss to be."
