The Mafia's Jewel (BWWM)

07

 It's been a week since I've heard from the mafia. No knocks at the door, no shadowy figures lurking on street corners, and most importantly, no sign of the mafia's goons. Maybe he's busy with something, I think, allowing myself a small, tentative breath of relief. Maybe, for once, fate has decided to cut me a break.

The clock on the wall ticks away the seconds, its rhythmic sound blending with the low hum of the TV. I sink deeper into the plush sofa, my body melding into the cushions as if I could disappear into their softness. The news anchor's voice drones on about some political scandal, but I barely register the words.

My mind drifts back to Detective Ron. I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the memory to dissolve. It's the job he signed up for and knew the risks of stalking the mafia.

The light from the TV flickers across the room, casting shadows that dance along the walls. I focus on the screen, on the mindless chatter, letting it wash over me like a soothing balm. It's easier to get lost in someone else's problems, someone else's drama. The anchor moves on to a fluff piece about a local hero, and I find myself smiling despite the heaviness in my chest. Life goes on, even in the midst of chaos.

The news shifts to a commercial break, and I stand and stretch, feeling the stiffness in my muscles. The day's tension weighs on me, and a hot shower sounds like the perfect way to unwind. I shuffle to the bathroom, shedding my clothes along the way, leaving a trail of clothes behind me. The shower's spray is warm and comforting, a small haven of tranquility. I let the water cascade over me, washing away the grime and stress of the week.

I wrap myself in a towel and step out of the bathroom, feeling a bit lighter, a bit more human. But the moment my eyes adjust to the dim light of my room, my heart stops. There, standing casually by my dresser, is Leone.

"Don't you knock?" I say, my voice sharper than I intend. My pulse quickens with a mix of anger and fear coursing through me.

Leone's lips curl into a predatory smile. "Embracing a woman's nakedness is one of my favorite pastimes," he says, inching closer, his eyes raking over me.

"Stay where you are," I command, clutching the towel tighter around me, trying to maintain some semblance of control.

Leone stops, but his smile remains. He crosses his arms, then casually picks up a small trinket from my dresser, turning it over in his hands. It's a small, delicate music box I got from a thrift store when I first came to Italy.

"Why are you here? I haven't seen you in a while," I ask, trying to keep my voice steady. The unease in the room is palpable.

"So, you miss me?" he says, a teasing lilt in his voice, his eyes glinting with amusement.

"What, no." I grit my teeth, refusing to rise to his bait.

He sets the music box down gently, as if it's suddenly fragile. I clutch my towel tightly around me. The damp fabric clings to my skin, and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. The air is thick with anticipation and something else I can't quite name. Leone steps closer, his eyes never leaving mine. I remain silent, frozen like a statue, unable to move or speak.

His hand reaches up, and he gently takes a strand of my hair, wrapping it around his finger. The intimacy of the gesture sends a jolt through me. "You want to know why I'm here?" he whispers, his breath warm against my ear. A shiver runs down my spine, and goosebumps rise on my skin.

I swallow hard, trying to keep my voice steady. "Why are you here?" I ask, though part of me is terrified of the answer.

"I am here for business," he says simply, his eyes boring into mine with an intensity that makes it hard to breathe.

"What kind of business?" I press, needing to know more, needing to understand why he's invaded my sanctuary.

"It's confidential. I cannot let you know," he tells me, his tone final. As he speaks, his other hand slips onto my bare shoulder, the touch both comforting and unnerving.

"You should leave," I say, trying to muster as much authority as I can. My voice wavers, betraying my fear and uncertainty.

Leone chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that reverberates through my entire body. The sound is almost hypnotic, sending another shiver down my spine. "Not yet. I like seeing you like this," he murmurs, his hand trailing down from my shoulder to the edge of my towel, where it wraps tightly around my chest.

I grip his hand, stopping its descent. "If you think you're gonna get some pussy, you're dead wrong."

Leone's lips twitch, and then he chuckles again, the sound low and dangerous. His amusement only fuels my anger and determination.

"You think I'm here for that?" he asks, his tone mocking.

"Well it seems like it 'cause your have been acting real thirsty lately."

I search his face, looking for answers, but find only the same inscrutable expression. My grip on his hand tightens, and I refuse to back down, even as fear churns in my gut.

"Then tell me," I demand. "Tell me what's so important that you had to come here, invade my space, and play these games."

Leone's eyes narrow slightly, and for a moment, I think he might actually tell me. But then he pulls his hand free from my grasp and takes a step back, putting a small but significant distance between us. Leone's face fades slightly, replaced by a look of mild annoyance. "You're no fun, you know that?"

"Too bad you you'll live."

"But fine. I need you to accompany me somewhere."

"Too bad. You'll live," I retort, trying to mask my unease with bravado.

"Fine." he breathes. " I need you to accompany me somewhere."

"Where are we going?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

"A club," he says simply. "For business meetings."

"At a club?" I raise my brows, incredulous.

Leone steps closer again, his fingers gently cupping my chin. His touch is both tender and commanding, sending a shiver down my spine. "Dress nicely," he repeats, his eyes locking onto mine.

I take a breath. I want to ask him more questions but I just let the idea go. "Fine," I say, trying to sound braver than I feel.

He releases my chin, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. "Good girl."