Taste of Melanin

Hit Different

"Venga! You're gonna die a virgin, puto." Donny laughed as he downed the last of his drink as a topless blonde began unbuttoning his designer slacks. Salvatore curled his lip in disgust before averting his eyes to focus on the brown liquor in his glass.

The men were celebrating a recent shipment that brought in $120 million in profit. Salvatore never had an interest in the clubs, one night stands, or party lifestyle the others engaged in but they were one of the deadliest crime families in Spain so they hardly split up for long.

"Ah, Salvatore, venga! Que? ¿Tu coño no está lo suficientemente húmedo?" Carlito laughed as the others had while he allowed a woman to kiss down his chest.

Although Salvatore towered than the others, they teased him as if they were his height as Salvatore steered away from unnecessary confrontation. He saved his anger for their targets which was why he was often called La Parca.

"Have fun." He grumbled as he stood to his 6'4 stature, straightened his suit, and walked out of the private room. The booming club music assaulted his ears and he hurriedly made his way out the back door.

Security followed behind as he walked down the dark alleyway. His dress shoes clicked against the gravel and he stretched his neck out of habit. Salvatore emerged from the shadows, watching as drunk people on the sidewalk cowered away.

His dull, dark brown eyes often made people uncomfortable. Paired with naturally sharp, brooding features and black hair that was often tied at his nape, Salvatore often scared people away before he could even open his mouth. The dark tattoos crowded along his neck, hands, chest and back didn't seem to help.

It didn't matter to him. He was content with all his life was at the moment and didn't need the temporary company. Making his way to his car, he allowed his men to check the vehicle out before he climbed inside. Before he could pull out of the parking lot his phone rang.

"What?" He grumbled lowly.

"Uh uhn. Who's got your panties in a bunch tonight?" The smooth voice of Mahalia entered his ear.

"Lo siento, amor. How are you?" Pulling away from the curb, Salvatore made his way back to his apartment.

"I'm okay but I'd be better if you came and helped me finish this cake." He could practically hear her poke her bottom lip out.

"No. Last time I came to help, all you did was tell me I was doing it wrong." Shaking his head, he smiled as he remembered the way she'd snatch items from his hands and scowl at him.

The image of her dressed in her sleeping shirt with her hair tied away in a large bonnet popped into his mind. She'd been the first woman to truly catch Salvatore's attention with her bold personality and ethereal beauty.

"Just a little constructive criticism. Please. It's almost midnight on a Saturday. What better do you have to do?" He'd kept his involvement in organized crime a secret as he didn't want to scare her away.

"Fine." He released a fake sigh, happy she couldn't see the large smile on his face.

Getting off the highway, he made his way towards her apartment. It was one he'd helped her get after finding out she'd been living in a run down apartment on the east side.

One part of him knew it was because he had enemies on the East who wouldn't blink an eye in putting a bullet in her skull. The other wanted her closer to himself- her apartment a 30 minute drive from his own.

One talk with the landlord and everything was paid off and ready to be moved in. He still allowed her to pay $1,000 a month considering how independent she was, but it was all given back to her in the form of gifts or special occasion money.