Farfalla

8. ) La Reina

Hours later I'm remembering how my body reacted to Vincenzo's touch. Bile rises in my throat, I got pleasure from a mob boss just days after my boyfriend was shot to death.

He claimed that I made his dìck soft but he was hard as a rock when he pushed me against the mirrors and got into my panties. Ugh, I roll my eyes to the ceiling. He is fùcking sick, what an àsshole. My mind runs through the events that followed that heated moment in the gym.

Vincenzo tells me to 'quit playing with him.' I scoff, "Playing with you? No, Vince, you don't want a game because you will lose." I straighten myself and try to catch my breath as I face him.

He slowly pulls his fingers from his mouth, a wicked grin still hugs his lips. Vince's voice is husky, "I don't play games, dolcezza. You need to remember that. Now-" he claps his hands together and takes a step back. "I want to see your body in order to plan your workout routine."

"Excuse me?" I move to take a step back but my head bumps into the glass. Cursing under my breath, I rub the crown of my head.

"You need to be in top shape. The Zuccoli brothers only converse with the best." He goes back to beating the shìt out of the punching bag, his tan torso twisting and clenching with every blow.

I chuckle under my breath for a moment but then it transforms into uncontrollable laughter, starting in my belly and continuing up. Tears form at the corners of my eyes and I clutch my stomach. My breathing is choppy and I have no idea why I am laughing so hard. Then I realize that this is hysterical laughing, so I guess that this is how I deal with the bullshìt that I am going through right now.

Vince stops to face me, confusion painted on his face. After I found a way to stop the hysterics I look Vincenzo in the eye, hazel to grey, and then I strip.

First to go is my tank top and then my yoga pants. The articles of clothing fall in a pool at my feet, leaving my body clad in Adriana's lacey bra and panties. My eyes stay on his throughout this whole ordeal.

He resist analyzing my body like most men. His grey eyes are captivating, but the game has begun and I prepare to win.

"'Top shape' enough?" My voice has a sultry lure to it as I do a slow 360 for him. I am a woman with curves, I fill out in the front and back and Vinny notices. His mouth is pressed into a hard line as he toys with the tape around his knuckles. His eyes linger on my breasts before finding their way back up to my eyes. Oh, I've got him.

"Let's get this straight, Vinny. I am not going on your hard core mafia workout routine. I like to run every morning and I expect to be able to do that while I'm here in prison. The Zuccoli fuckèrs will be more than pleased with me and my body. So if you don't mind taking me to get something to eat..." I finish my rant and he has a smirk on his face.

He grunts and continues his cold stare, "Fine, you can run with me in the morning, but only around the perimeter. And you want to eat? Here." My hands swiftly thrust out to catch some sort of bar that he tosses my way.

I flip it over and read the label on the silver packaging. "Raisin Oat Protein Bar? Um, no." I throw the bar at his feet, who does he think that he is? I am not eating some stupid bar that probably tastes like dog shìt.

"I want real food. A meal. Not some bullshìt like that." I reach down to pick up my clothes and I dress quickly. Once, I'm finished Vincenzo has his arms folded over his chest, his head tilted to the side. And then he tsks me. What type of grown man, not just any grown man, but the leader of the Italian Mafia tsks someone? What a pússy.

"Now that's no way to ask for something, especially when you are powerless." His face is dark and emotionless. All I really want is some good cooking from Nonna and this man wants to waste time. I know what he wants. So I give in.