Mafia Love - DISCONTINUED

Chapter 16

Grace

"Faster!" I groan.

"Harder!" I grunt.

"Go, go, yes! Yes!" Sweat dripping off my body as I'm locked in a battle of movement and frustration.

Get your head out of the gutter, you perverts.

For the past half hour, I have been trying to push this enormous trunk, God knows what is in it, into the jet that we will be taking to Sicily.

It hasn't moved at all!

"What the hell is in this thing?!" I shout.

I stop trying to move the damn thing and decide I might as well look inside the trunk if it's coming with us. I flip up the latches and lift up the lid. Just what every person needs to take with them back to their home country....guns.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" I shut the lid and lock it back as I try, again, to move the thing. "Come on, come on," I grunt out of anger.

"You know you make sex noises when you try to move things?"

I nearly trip over my own feet when I hear someone's voice coming from my right. It was Lorenzo; he was dressed in a dark black winter coat, no doubt purchased for less than five thousand dollars, with a pair of blue jeans. Since when does he wear blue jeans? His dirty blonde hair flipped over as the wind blew it sideways.

"First of all, I do not make sex nosies!  I'll have you know that I'm a vir...a very anti-social person when it comes to touchy-feels.  I have about as much sexual appeal and knowledge as a baby penguin." 

"Well, apparently that wasn't the case when you were drunk and sucking the face of my friend."

My eyes go wide.  "How did you find out about that?!"  I yell at him.  He walks over to me.

"I just happened to be scrolling through security footage, to try and find the tape of the night shit went down, and happened to come across you both. If it makes you feel any better, I'm rooting for you two to get together,"  he finishes.

"Oh, my God," I smack my forehead.  "You can't hold me to that.  I was drunk, and I don't even remember half the stuff that happened in there; also, you're "rooting" for us? What is this, a freaking movie?!" I tell him. "Now, where was I?  Oh, right.  Second, you can bite me. Third, how about you shut up and help me with this thing," I point to the trunk; I managed to move it two inches since last try.

Lorenzo stands over the trunk, grabs the handles on both sides and lifts it with easy.  He gives me that you-really-couldn't-lift-this look; he then puts in the jet with ease.  Oh, did I mention that Mr. Romano has his own private jet.  I couldn't even afford a box of cereal before this "job". So yesterday, when I was booking tickets for Sicily, Mr. Romano was "kindly" enough to "tell" me that I was to call their pilot and book him for today.  Ugh, rich mafia people problems.

"Fuck you,"  I say to him, and he just winks at me.  
I roll my eyes before asking, "So, what exactly is this trip for?  Are we going to go undercover and kick some enemy asses?"  I ask, while making little fighting motions in the air.

"Actually,"  Lorenzo starts,  "it's a little bit of both."

"Meaning?"  I ask him.  Curiosity rising up in me.

"We are going for business but..."  he stops suddenly when he sees Alessio and that perv of a man, Antonio. 

Alessio was dressed in a very sharp black tailored suit; he was wearing a light white dress shirt underneath the suit's jacket.

I could practically picture what his abs looked like under there.  Ugh, head out of the gutters Grace.

Black Italian leathered shoes where worn beneath his feet, his hair was combed back perfectly where not one hair stood out of place.  His chiseled face had a small stubble on it to where if you ran your finger across it, I'm sure, could cut it.  To top all of that off, he had rolled up his sleeves just enough to where you could see an arm tattoo start to form.

After a good moment of me staring at him, I speak up, "Does Peeping Tom really have to come with us?" I ask, pointing to Antonio.

"Don't act like you don't want me to come, gorgeous," he says while throwing me a wink.

Barf!

"Gross," I begin, "I would rather jump from the jet than let you go with us. Also, what exactly are we going to Sicily for?  I didn't quite get the memo on that."  

It's silent for a moment, almost as if it was a sensitive subject as to why we were traveling to Italy.

"We're going to see my family," that's all Alessio says before saying something to the pilot and climbs into the jet.

Family?!

I turn to Lorenzo and Antonio. "Does he always bring an arsenal to a family reunion?"

"Him and his family aren't always on the best terms always. Besides, it's Italy, there's mafia everywhere in that country," Antonio says, and then he climbs into the jet.

"Well, that's just great," I turn to Lorenzo. "I'm traveling in a private jet with one mafia boss who, for whatever reason, has disagreements with his family, a pervert who enjoys looking at my chichas, a person who is "rooting" for me to hook up with my boss, and to top it off I have no clothes since my bags were never recovered from the day I ran away from you and No Name," I exhale and take a deep breath before I continue.

"And," I say through my teeth, "I'm currently dressed in tights that feel like they were meant for a prostitute and a shirt that says "daddy's girl". Why do I feel that, that is both weird and kinky in all sorts of ways?" I sigh, "What a great way to start off this trip."

Lorenzo just pats me on my back and leads my into the jet where we sit down and get ready for take off.

Why do I feel like this is only the beginning to a very rough start ahead?
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Hey, my lovelies! So this is chapter 16 and I just would love to say that I'm so grateful for half a thousand reads! You guys are amazing!

As always vote, comment and share, share, share.

Much love ❤️

-Lily
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Ps, chichas is Spanish slang for boobs.

1108 words.