The Mafia Boss's Rose

Chapter 4

"Don, he's THE DON?!?!" He had called him the Don as simply as someone explaining what they had eaten for breakfast.
"Yeahhh, well no but yes." I raise an eyebrow at him.
"Dads still alive but he wants to train him so he can take over." I nod my head at him not sure of what to say.
"Yeah, sooo you from around here?" I look at him, wondering how much I can say.
"Nope, just driving through."
"To bad, my brother could use a woman who'd tell him what to do,"
"Your drunk, you shouldn't be talking like this,"
"Why not?" He was so drunk he had no idea what was happening. I look up and make eye contact with the Irish guy but he breaks it to look at the Russian Don who's gaze I can still feel. The Irish guy glances between the two of us and then shakes his head as if he's just found the answer to a puzzle he's been trying to solve for a month.
"Won't they kill me for knowing to much? Isn't that how this stuff works?"
"Naaaaah, your too pretty. We'd kidnap you, maybe sell you to the highest bidder." I put my head in my hands and sigh deeply.
"Stop talkingggg,"
"Why? Don't you want to know that the cocaine deal is going to happen in two days and that we plan on taking down the Italians in two months?" He has a big cheeky grin on his face, knowing that it's bothering me.
"NO I DONT WANT TO KNOW THAT," I yell, not wanting to be kidnapped or a target of any kind.
"I seriously hope that your too drunk to remember telling me any of this."
"Nah, I remember everything." A look of horror crosses my face and he burst into fits of laughter.
"Gotcha," he says as he starts rolling around on the floor, the rest of the place swarmed with many drunk mafia men. I'm the only woman in here, the waitress had left, what appears to be, hours ago.
"What's your name?" Through a fit of laughs he says,
"Vimmy." I shake my head and go to stand up but fall back into the seat as I run into a muscular chest.
"Excuse me," I don't look up but I try to get up again.
"Where are you going," a deep musky voice takes my breath away. Leaving me almost gasping for air. A chill runs down my spine and goosebumps cover my skin.
"Ah, out" I say, pointing to the door and than I look up at him. He'd be towering above me even if I wasn't sitting but unfortunately for me I am. His dark eyes pin me to where I am, the light illuminating his scar, making him that much more intense.
"No," that's all he said, just no. Who is he to say no to me? Anger boils in me and I go to stand up again. As I stand, he grabs my shoulders and holds me there, softly chuckling.
"Let go of me!"
"No,"
"What if I said don't let go of me, would you still say no?!?"
"Probably not." I make an urgh sound and try to shove him away but it doesn't work. All of a sudden the Russians don't appear to be drunk and every single one of the Russians pulls a gun and points it at the Irish, except for the pain in the ass holding me where I am.
"I want out of here! Let me go!!!" I yell and try to pound my fists into his chest. He laughs softly at my attempt and than speaks in a low whisper,
"Calm down, I'm not gonna hurt you."
"CALM DOWN?!?! Hasn't anyone ever told you not to tell a woman to CALM DOWN!" I was angry, I don't like being held in place by a man. Riccardo did a number on me and I wasn't about to willing walk into another situation like that. The entire place had gone silent. He leaned his head down and put his mouth to my ear. His breath against my skin sent another chill down my spine, making me hold my breath,
"Shhh, I don't want you to get hurt," he rested his forehead on my shoulder, breathing me in.
"I can take care of myself thank you very much and get off me." He lifted his head but remained holding me in place. The man who must be the next in command after his brother waved his gun around the room, his voice echoed throughout.
"Alright we're gonna make this clear for all of you little Irish fellers. Understand me?" Another wave of the gun, "We are in charge, The Don here, is in charge. He calls the shots and if you don't listen to him, well, your mind can do the imagining. It'll be worse than death that's for sure." He was continuing on but I wasn't listening, that Don who brought death, was staring me down, holding me in place. Whether he was listening or not, I'll probably never know. I held his gaze, my glare, ice cold against his eyes that promise death. I was staring death in the face and all he did was smirk at me. I focused in on what the man behind him was saying.
"Our shipment of cocaine had better be at the pier in two days! Do you understand me?!?" He walks up to the Irish guy and puts his gun to his temple, looks him in the eye and says,
"Do. You. Understand. Me?!?" The Irish guy simply nods his head, ever so slowly. I look back up at the guy with grey eyes, all words escaping my mind. He grabs a lock of my long, dark, auburn hair and slowly twists it around his finger. He lets go of it and says,
"You want out of the pub?" His voice soft and quiet.
"Yes, please." My voice is a soft whisper although it's not out of fear. Suddenly I realize what's happening as he picks me up and throws me over his shoulder.
"PUT ME DOWN!!!" I yell as I pound fists into his back. Great, he probably knows that his brother couldn't keep his mouth shut. He reaches over and picks up my bag. One arm wrapped around my legs, holding me place. I can tell the Irish guy is tense as he looks over at me and I can see the worry in his eyes, maybe for me or for his own life, I don't know. The asshole carrying me, kicks the door open and walks out of the pub and down the street.
"Where are you taking me?!?!" I say, almost yelling, it's hard to talk when your upside down.
"I'm not a bag of potatoes to be thrown around!" I say as I pound on his back again. All of a sudden I'm falling, I hit the ground hard.
"Are you drunk?"
"Am I drunk?!?! Am I DRUNK?" I roll my eyes and sit up.
"Yeah, why else couldn't you catch your balance?"
"Have you ever been thrown over someone's shoulder?" he shrugs a shoulder as if to say, what difference does it make.
"Ughhh, give me my stuff, so I don't have to see any of you again and OW!"
"Your fine." He says and then he starts rifling through my bag.
"Give that to me, you snoop!" I stand and reach for bag, he turns out of my grasp and I run into his shoulder. He takes out the book and I lunge but fail miserably. I nearly fall but he puts a hand out and steady's me. I use that opportunity to reach for the book but he holds it out of reach.
"Don't you have something better to be doing?!?"
"No, I already told them what to do." I roll my eyes and attempt to grab the book only to fail, again.
"Just give me my crap and I'll be out of your hair." He smirks at me and hands me my book. He then goes back to rifling through my stuff. He pulls out my phone and tries to guess the passcode. I keep trying to reach for it but instead, I always run into him. He locks my phone out and looks over at me with an innocent look.
"You idiot! Give me my stuff so I can leave!"
"Idiot? You're gonna call the Don of the Russian mafia an Idiot?!?" His tone is terrifying and he drops my stuff as he starts walking towards me. I walk backwards until my back hits the wall of the pub. He puts his arms on either side of me, trapping me and leans in close, his breath tickling against my neck. His hand travels down my side, to rest on my hip.
"Are you so sure you want to do that?"
"Just let me go," it comes out as a soft plea because my lungs won't take in any air.
"Why would I do that?"
"Because I'm only trouble."