Loving Marcello

Chapter Fifteen

A lil note/warning...

Huge escalation in this chapter. Beware and take caution, because I wasn't playing when I said that it'll escalate quickly. Don't take this warning too lightly, and take heed at the end. I understand if it moves too fast for you, because I think it moved too fast, even for me. I almost gave myself a heart attack.

Okay, sorry, uh, continue...

Back to Brimmy's POV

"He's what now?" I ask, dumbfounded, staring at Marie.

She looks back down at her lap, "He controls the Italian mafia, and even some of the American one too." She adds.

I open and close my mouth, trying to talk, but failing miserably.

"Are you joking with me?" I whisper, but knowing that she's not one to joke about something so serious.

"No, this isn't a joke...I'm sorry.." She says, seemingly guilty.

I shake my head, "No, it's okay, you don't have to be sorry. It's him that should be apologizing." I scowl, standing abruptly.

"Wh-where're you going?" Marie asls, standing as well, tugging my arm to prevent further movement.

"I'm just gonna go look for Marcello, I may or may not have a little chat with him." I pull my arm away from her.

Her eyes widen in fear, "N-no! Please don't! You'll anger him!" She pleads.

"Then you shouldn't have told me he was a mafia leader." I speed past her, but realize that I have no idea where he's at.

Well dang, that plan failed.

I don't stop my march though, no, I continue down the hall, my only intention is to find Marcello.

I spot Dante and stop, "Where's Marcello?" I snap.

I guess the look on my face was enough for him to make the decision to not make any if his usual snarky comments. Instead, he points to the left of us, "His office is at the end of the hall."

Without saying another word, I step past him and down the hall, my only hesitation being that I just figured out this scary, intimidating stanger is a mafia leader and I'm about to approach him.

A hidden anger boils to the surface unexpectedly. I really don't like secrets. He didn't have an obligation to tell me, I'm just a stranger from America, but I still throw my sense out the window and encourage myself to feed into the anger.

Maybe not the best idea, but I don't really care. I remember when he had the chance to strangle me when we were in the dark corner and he had his hand around my neck, saying he could kill me. He didn't.

And he won't.

I don't know where this sudden confident boost comes from, but if I do end up being murdered by Marcello, I can at least haunt him for the rest of his life.

I burst through the door I'm assuming is his office to find him sitting at his desk, buried in a head of papers.

At my entrance, his head shoots up, a furious look I'm his eyes, but once he realizes who it is and how p*ssed off she looks, his face drops to one of confusion.

"Brimmy?" He asks, his brow furrowing.

"Don't 'Brimmy' me!" I exclaim, glaring at him, "Why didn't you tell me that you were part of the mafia?"

"You never asked?" He shrugs, standing from his chair, "And what gives you the right to burst into my office like that?"

Now the tables have turned. Well, a little.