The Perpetual Association of Mafia Wives

Victor And Ona

Bullets went flying from all directions. The rebels had taken them by surprise and got them corner. This pissed the boss off. His jaw ticked madly in irritation.

They'd gone to the location, finalized the deal and were on their way home. Then these pathetic little shots attacked them.

Of course the rebels were loosing but it was still dangerous. They were on the verge of making it when the boss's phone rang.

"What!" He roared. "I'm in the middle of something."

"Oh so you don't care about your wife?" Ona sassed.

"Oh no love, you know I didn't mean that." Victor replied fending off a guy with a switch blade.

"You say that every time. Speaking of which. WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU!! THIS EVENT STARTS IN AN TWO HOURS AND YOUVE BEEN OUT ALL DAY. I SWEAR VICTOR. IF YOU'RE NOT HERE IN THE NEXT HALF HOUR I WILL LEAVE WITHOUT YOU. AND NOT ONLY THAT, I WILL MAKE SURE YOU SUFFER DEARLY TONIGHT!!"

Victor knew what she meant when she said this and his eyes went wide. She could do anything from sleep in the nude and prohibit him from touching her, to locking him out of the house and making him sleep in the garden.

He looked over to his gang members, they'd successfully neutralised the rebels and were waiting for the next commands. Victor was not about to let them hear him beg his wife for mercy.

He turned away from them.

"Listen love, I'll be home in forty-five minutes tops so sit your behind right were it is. I want to see you in the house when I get home. Capisce!"

"I honestly don't know why you try to act all tough around me. We all know you whipped as hell. Your ass better be driving, I watered the lawn this afternoon." Ona cut the call as Victor turned to his members.

"Take the hostages to the south warehouse and get this mess cleaned up. Blake I hope you don't mind breaking a few traffic laws."

Everyone rushed to do as told. They all knew they'd be the butt of the bosses temper if he spent and evening in the garden.

Blake drove frantically through the streets, there was little traffic, but it was still difficult to get past without crashing.

As soon as the car was in the drive, Victor ran out and sprinted inside. He bust into his room to find Ona slayed comfortably across the bed in her underwear and reading glasses, deeply invested in the magazine.

"You're not even ready yet!!" Victor road.

"Well you were taking too long and my Russian ain't getting any better."

Victor let out an angry grunt as he started to strip. Ona did this all the time and he never knew if she was serious or not. The worst part was that he was so madly in love with his wife that he couldn't help but love it all.

As soon as his shirt came off, Ona was hot on his heels to the bathroom.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"We're getting ready."

"I'm getting ready." Victor corrected, blocking Ona's way.

"No. We're getting ready. You don't have a choice."

People always criticized him of marrying a black woman and even Ona herself faced anxiety about how Thier relationship looked to others. But Victor loved Ona and that was all that mattered.

"Well I guess if I can't beat you at this game of yours..." He said, trailing kisses up her neck.

"Mmm... Now your speaking my kind of Russian."