The Mafia's Jewel (BWWM)

09

We don't go back to the club. It's too dangerous, and the shooters might still be after Leone so we decide to go somewhere else. I', not sure where, but all I know its somewhere far from that place.

Leone and I walk quickly through the dimly lit streets, the cool night air doing little to calm my nerves. My heart is still pounding from the shooting, and every shadow feels like a threat.

Leone and I walk through the empty streets, the silence almost eerie in the late hours of the night. The city of Sicily feels like a ghost town, the usual hustle and bustle replaced by an unsettling calm. The only sounds are our footsteps echoing against the cobblestones and the distant hum of a lone car passing by.

I glance at Leone, his face set in a determined mask, but there's a flicker of worry in his eyes. It's rare to see him like this, so controlled yet undeniably human. "Where are Camille and Michael? You usually travel with them," I ask, my voice breaking the silence.

"I gave them the night off so I could spend some crime-free time, but I guess I forgot who I am," he chuckles, though there's little humor in it. His gaze darts around, scanning the shadows, always alert.

"Is there a cab or something we can call?" I suggest, hoping for a quicker escape from the tension.

"Yeah, let me call for a cab at 3 am in the night," he replies sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Despite the situation, I can't help but smile at his dry humor.

We continue walking, our pace brisk as we navigate the narrow streets of Sicily. The architecture around us, beautiful and historic in the daylight, now feels imposing and shadowy under the dim streetlights. Leone suddenly stops, and I follow his gaze to a building ahead of us.

"My hotel," he says, a smile breaking through his tension.

"How many places do you own?" I ask, trying to distract myself from the fear still gripping me.

Leone stops and looks at me, his expression unreadable. "Many," he replies simply, then starts walking again.

I trail behind him, my high heels clicking against the pavement. The adrenaline is wearing off, leaving me tired and shaken. Leone stops and turns, his eyes softening when he sees how I'm struggling.

"You should hurry," he says, but there's no impatience in his voice, just concern.

"Well, sorry, I'm literally walking on heels over here," I snap back, my frustration bubbling over.

Without warning, Leone approaches and suddenly I'm airbound. He lifts me effortlessly, carrying me as if I weigh nothing. The world spins for a moment before I realize what's happening.

"Let me down," I tell him, but my voice lacks conviction.

"Not a chance," he responds, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

The woman's eyes widen as if she realizes Leone is the mafia. "Alright sir, please follow me."

Leone carries me through the entrance of the hotel, his strong arms making me feel both protected and alarmed. The lobby is pristine and quiet, an oasis of calm compared to the chaos we just escaped. The receptionist looks up as we approach, her polite smile faltering slightly at the sight of us.

"Room for two," Leone says, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

"Sorry, sir, we are all booked for tonight," the receptionist replies, her voice shaky but professional.

Leone gently places me down, his hand lingering on my arm for a moment. He leans in close to her, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Well, make a room available then."

"Um, sir, I'm sorry but we don't have—"

"Make a room available," Leone interrupts, his voice cold and unyielding, "or I might have to buy this place myself and put you out of a job."

The receptionist's eyes widen, a flicker of recognition sparking in them as she fully comprehends who she's dealing with. She swallows hard, her hands trembling slightly as she types something into the computer.

"Alright, sir," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "Please follow me."

Leone takes my hand again, his grip firm but reassuring as we follow the receptionist down a quiet hallway. She leads us to a door at the far end, her movements quick and nervous. She unlocks the door and steps aside, allowing us to enter.

We step into the room, we realize it isn't empty. Two people, a man and a woman, are asleep in the bed. The man wakes up first, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the intruders.

"What the hell is this?" he demands, his voice groggy but quickly sharpening with anger.

"Sorry, but he needs this room," the receptionist explains, her tone strained but firm.

The man sits up, glaring at Leone. "Who the hell do you think you are, walking in here and demanding my room?"

"Sir, please, if you leave, we will send you to another hotel and pay for your first night," the receptionist offers, trying to placate him.

The man's face hardens with defiance. "No, this is my room, and I'm not giving it up for some man and this twat—"

Before he can finish, Leone pulls out his signature gun, the one I've seen him carry countless times. He points it directly at the man, his expression deadly calm. "I'm going to tell you one more time, buddy. Accept this nice lady's offer, or I will put you and your woman under."

The man's eyes widen in shock, darting to the receptionist, who gives him a slight nod, her face pale. Defeated, he sighs heavily. "Fine. We'll pack our things."

Leone lowers the gun, but his gaze never leaves the man. "Good choice."

The couple hurriedly gathers their belongings, casting nervous glances at Leone and me. Once they're gone, the receptionist looks at us with a mix of relief and apprehension.

"I apologize for the inconvenience," she says, her voice trembling slightly. "If you need anything else, please don't hesitate to ask."

Leone nods curtly. "Thank you. That will be all for now."

She leaves quickly, and Leone locks the door behind her. The room is finally ours. He puts the gun away and turns to me, his expression softening slightly.

"You can't just do that."

"Do what?"

"Threatening people to do what you want."

"I'm the mafia, I can do whatever I like."

"Like holding women hostage in a country?"

"If you put it that way, then yes."

I turn away, annoyed at him. The weight of the night's events presses down on me, making my head spin. "Are you okay?" Leone asks again, his voice a low rumble, filled with genuine concern.

"Yeah," I reply, though my heart is still racing from the confrontation. "Just a bit rattled."

He moves closer, his presence a calming force that I reluctantly appreciate. "Get some rest. We'll figure everything out in the morning."

I glance around the room, noting the single bed. "I would like to sleep, but there is only one bed," I tell him, my frustration seeping into my voice.

We both look at each other, the tension palpable. Then Leone smirks, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

"I'm gonna sleep on the couch—" I start, but before I can react, he lifts me up effortlessly and drops me onto the bed.

Surprise and a hint of fear ripple through me as I see Leone crawl up beside me, his eyes dark and intense. He hovers over me, his hand slipping down to my dress strap, making my breath catch. His lips brush against my neck, sending a shiver down my spine.

"You take the bed, dear, or we might have to sleep with each other," he whispers, his voice a seductive threat. I bite my lower lip, my eyes locked with his, the room charged with unspoken tension.

Then, just as quickly as he moved in, Leone pulls back and leaves the bed. "Goodnight, Jules," he says, his tone returning to its usual calm.