Mr. Mafia Man

Chapter XXI: The Plane

"Oh, Nicolas, I am so sorry." I whisper, not quite sure how to react to this new development.

"Don't be, my father was a bastard." Nicolas responds, his very pointy chin still on my head. I could feel his chest deflate and his breath brush my hair as he sighs.

Not leaving our embrace, I mumble into his chest. "So what does this mean?"

"It means," Nicolas says, pulling halfway out of the embrace to look at my face. "That we are going to New York City." He cocks a small half smile, but his face looks weary, and I could tell that it wasn't from playing Monopoly. "Hold on sweetheart, I need to go tell Dmitry." When he pulls away completely from our embrace, I feel the loss of him deep in my soul. As he leaves the room, I wrap my arms around myself and half sit, half lean on his desk.

Out in the living room I could hear Dmitry yell "She made me morgage all of my FUCKING property!" before hearing someone, probably Nicolas murmur something, after which there was dead quiet.

After a few minutes, Nicolas quietly came back into his office, and softly closed the large wooden doors behind him. Not meeting my eyes, he informs me that we will be flying out on a red eye in six hours, and that I should probably go and pack.

I got the strong impression that Nicolas just wanted to be alone so I quietly left the office to, for the first time since I got there, a truly quiet house. I silently trodded to my room, my heart going out to Nicolas. It was obvious that he was mourning the loss of his father, or, at the very least, whatever his father represented to him, whether or not Nicolas wanted to or not.

While I packed my suitcase I thought about New York City. I had never been there, and I'm not quite so sure I wanted to go there under the present circumstances. But regardless of what I wanted, Nicolas wanted me, needed me, to be there with him, and I was not ready to let my maybe-boyfriend brave it alone, despite the fact that he thought that he could.

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Six hours later, Nicolas and I were boarding a private jet to head to New York at 1 AM in the morning. I looked like roadkill, meanwhile Nicolas looked gorgeous, as always. Surprisingly Dmitry was nowhere to be found, but I did not have to mourn his absence long because as soon as Nicolas and I got comfortable on the plane, Dmitry, dressed in a flight attendant's uniform, complete with the blue neck scarf, tight fitting pencil skirt, blonde wig, and red lipstick, popped out of the cabin, and, in what I could only assume was the highest voice he could manage, exclaimed, in his thick Russian accent, "Welcome to Dimitry Airlines, this is your flight attendant and copilot speaking. Today's destination is New York City, which is not only disgusting and rancid, but also the hometown of Nicolas, which actually explains a lot now that I think about it. Thank you for choosing Dimitry, and enjoy your flight."

Turning around on one of his six inch heels, while simultaneously whipping off the wig, Dmitry strut walked back into the cabin of the plane, leaving Nicolas and me to our own devices.

Quickly turning my body around in my seat to face Nicolas, who was going through the magazines tucked into the seat pocket in front of him, I said, "I didn't know Dmitry had a pilot's license."

"He doesn't." Nicolas says, nonchalantly, finding a magazine that I assume fit his taste and pulling it out. As he opened the magazine, he explained, "He was a part of the Russian Air Force and was the top of his class before dropping out and moving to the U.S. He's not allowed to have a pilot's license, but I find little ways to help him fly sometimes." Turning the page in the magazine, Nicolas didn't even bother to look up at me, which actually good, because I was sporting a not attractive face of shock.

I got up and crossed the isle of the plane and sat down in the seat next to Nicolas. Without even looking up, Nicolas throws an arm around my shoulders and pulls me closer to him. "Wait, if he liked flying so much and was so good at it, why did he drop out of the Air Force?"

Nicolas tossed his head back and groaned. "I can think about something better for your mouth than talk." When he saw my face, he reeled his innuendo back in, and finally gave me a satisfactory answer. "His father found out he was gay, and made him quit before the others found out. If they had it would have been ugly. I was going to America with my father to lead the Russian Mafia, so Dmitry tagged along under the guise of a pilot." Grinning at my face of pleasant surprise, Nicolas ruffled my hair. "Is that what you wanted to hear, sweetcheeks?"

"Yeah," I joked back. "I like to hear that my boyfriend is, at least, a semi-nice guy."

Nicolas raised his eyebrows at my comment. "Oh so you heard my girlfriend comment from before, huh?"

"Yeah, I did, actually, and I'm a little bit sad that you didn't at least ask me first."

"Sorry babe, let me try again, okay?"

I nod, excited to finally be asked out for the first time in my life.

Nicolas puts his magazine down, and rotates towards me, taking my hands in his very large ones, and looking deeply into my eyes. In a low voice, he says "Kroshka, will you give me the honor of being my girlfriend?" I bite my lip and nod excitedly, and Nicolas smiles, and kisses me quickly before going back to his magazine.

"Hey, um, not to bother you or anything, but what does Kroshka mean?" I ask.

"Crumb." Nicolas says deadpan.

"You called me a crumb?!" I exclaim, horrified that I thought that was a compliment, or sweet pet name.

Nicolas shrugs "Some girls like it."

"I am not 'some girls', Nicolas!"

"Yeah, you sure the hell aren't." Nicolas mutters under his breath.

I swear, I was going to respond with a cutting remark, that was going to destroy Nicolas' entire sense of being, when I felt a wave of drowsiness wash over me, and before I could, I had nodded off.

Word Count: 1094 words

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You receive a notification saying that 3ammayhem has updated. You run to your phone tears streaming down your face, excited to read the new chapter. As your eyes run down the page devouring every word as fast as you can, you think to yourself "man, this girl is a really good writer, and she deserves everything she wants", and you know what, dear reader, you are 100% right.

(also sorry for not updating in a while)

-3AMmayhem