Omertà Anthology - A Very Merry Mafioso Christmas

by V. Domino

  “Hell, yes! I want to talk to Heather; she’s so damn cute,” Samuele says, winking.

  “Right, my girls are cute,” I say, nodding.

  I smile at my cousin pulling out the scrunchie from my hair. I run my fingers through my hair, rubbing my scalp to release the stress.

  I need to shower to relax, and then I need to get ready to go to the club.

  “Cugino (cousin), I text you when we’re leaving,” I say, tossing my hair over my shoulder.

  “Fuck, I heard Uncle Tomas talking on the phone after lunch. I need to tell you that you need to be ready because Uncle Tomas is scheming. I heard him before I walked into his office, but he didn’t want to talk about it when I asked him,” Samuele says, looking around the hallway.

  “What did you hear,” I ask; stopping, I turn to look at him.

  “I heard him mention you and that you will do what he says,” Samuele huffs, shaking his head spreads his feet as he stands looking at me.

  “Damn, I always knew that Dad wants to exploit me for his gain,” I say, nibbling my lower lip.

  “Be careful, Noelle. I’ll try to find out what he’s planning,” Samuele says, pressing his lips in a straight line placing his hands on his waist.

  “Thanks, Cugino,” I say, running the towel over my face.

  “Always,” Samuele says, furrowing his forehead.

  I walk down the hall to the ladies' room to take a shower before going home.

  I’m lucky that Samuele is looking out for me. He’s there for me, helps me train to defend myself, be strong, and take me to the shooting range. Samuele is just as fucked up as I am because Dad killed his own brother and his mother, his parents. Dad has been grooming Samuele to be his right-hand man.

  I hate that I have to look over my shoulder for any threats from the soldiers that live in this world of anarchy, the Mafia. I didn’t want this, but I know that I need to be able to defend myself from the fucking Mafia because of my Dad’s ties.

  I hate going home because I don’t feel safe. Dad has so many men walking around the property, but they only make me nervous. Dad is always home late or in his office meeting with men that I know are part of the Mafia.

  I hate that he’s so connected to the Mafia and now wants me to help him with their legal needs by becoming an attorney, but I’m not going to do that. I can’t help those soldiers get away with their dark deeds, fuck no. I’ll help with the paperwork even if I feel that’s too much, but I have to do it. Dad will not hesitate to hurt me or kill me.

  Yeah, he would kill me because he killed Mamma. The Mafia had to prove his loyalty in order to be their Associate; he killed my Mamma. I fucking hate Dad and those bastards.

  I witnessed it all when Dad killed my Mamma. I was hiding at the bottom of the stairs, in the little nook located at the curve. I saw when the Mafia was talking to Dad, and Mamma walked into his office.

  Dad shoots her without saying a word, show any remorse, or grimace

  The fucking asshole.

  I know that one day I will avenge my mother.

  Yeah, I hate them and everything to do with the Mafia and my Dad. Hell, my Dad is a wiseguy, an associate for the Mafia, taking care of their legal issues.

  I pull on my black leggings, black sweater, and booties. I pull my hair up into a ponytail and grab my bag. I walk out of the building to my car parked in the parking garage.

  I look around the parking garage, inhaling deeply, I walk to my car. I open the door and slide onto the seat, turning on my car. I pull out of the parking garage onto the street and onto the Hwy. I drive home, a few minutes later, I walk into the kitchen, looking around for dinner. Mathilda cooks amazing, and today she was going to make lasagna. I walk over to the oven to look at the pan inhaling deeply. Yeah, it smells delicious.

  I smile, stretching my arm to open the cabinet. I pull out a plate, and I grab the spoon from the counter. I serve some lasagna onto the plate, grinning. I then went outside to eat my dinner on the dark patio. I walk over to the corner, my favorite spot to hide. The corner is hidden by the rose bush and water fountain, but I can see into my Dad’s office and family room. I can see the yard and the security guards walking around the fence.

  Fuck!

  It’s like living in the fucking prison.

  I take a few bites of lasagna, and then I look at my Dad walking into his office. He falls onto his chair, turning on his laptop. A few minutes later, a tall man walks into his office.

  I’ve seen him a couple of times; he’s a soldier for the Mafia. I don’t know his name, and Dad wouldn’t talk about him; he ignores all of my questions, but I’m not stupid.

  That man is a soldier, I know it. He’s so dark and lethal. He should scare me, but he doesn’t. He’s tall, muscular body but not bulky, more athletic, and lean. Something about him calls me even though I hate it. I only see his profile when he walks into the room. I’ve never seen his face but what I’ve seen is so damn hot.

  He never stays long, and I watch him leave looking at his tight ass.

  Damn!

  I look at my Dad make a phone call, moving his mouse around.

  I shrug and push off the chair. I walk back into the kitchen, placing my plate and fork in the sink. I walk down the hall, up the stairs, and to my room. I’m so damn glad that my room is on the other side of the house, far away from my Dad’s bedroom.

  It takes me an hour to get ready because it takes me a while to curl my hair, makeup, and dress. I look at the long mirror on my wall, spreading my hands over my tummy to smooth the material down, pulling the skirt to adjust it.

  Yes, it looks perfect, and I feel so damn sexy.

  I grab my perfume and spray it in the air, and I twirl around to have it shroud me.

  I then grab my keys, purse, and jacket. I walk down the hull and down the curved staircase. I stop at the bottom of the stairs, and I pull on my black leather jacket.

  “Noelle, wherein the hell do you think you’re going,” Dad yells, walking into the hallway.

  I push up the sleeves to my elbows, purse my lips crossing my arms. I raise my right eyebrow looking at Dad.

  “I’m going out to the club, and I don’t know why you think that you can control me,” I say, moving my right hand to my waist.

  “You go out when I say, you do as I say, when I say,” Dad snarls, walking over to me.

  He grabs my arm, pulling me up close to his face.

  “The guards will be on your tail, and you will not whore around because you need to remain a virgin for my plans. Don’t make me lock you up in your room,” Dad growls, pushing me back, releasing me.

  I stumble back, and I grab the stair rail glaring at him.

  “I hate you! I will never agree to any of your stupid plans! You have no right to try to sell me to the best candidate that will advance your ranks.

  Dad walks up close to me and smiles his evil smile that I hate. His eyes are dark brown eyes that look almost black, and they’re empty.

  “You will do as I say! Make sure to behave,” Dad growls, turning walks away.

  I stare at him, pulling my dress, and I adjust my hair, closing my eyes.

  I need to remain strong, and I will not do as he says. I’m not scared of him, and I rather he kills me than submit to his schemes.

  “The Capo, Diego wants you to take care of officer Smith by paying him off, but if he refuses, we’ll take the next step. Did you contact the Senator? Cappola wants him,” I say, moving the crystal glass up to my lips, and I take a pull of the whiskey. I look out of the huge window at bella Noelle.

  Fuckingtastic!

  There she is, as beautiful as ever, sending my heart racing, and all of my blood rushes south. I love everything about her; she’s perfect.

  Damn, I need to get out of here because I can’t talk to her, it’s not a good idea. She’s the Associate’s daughter, and I know that Winters has other plans for her. I’m just a soldato, a made man, and I’m not worthy of her.

  I curl my fingers tight
digging my nails into my palm.

  “I’ve contacted Senator Moss, and I’ll take care of Officer Soto,” Tomas says, running his hand through his thinning hair.

  “Excellent. I’ll give the Capo an update,” I say, nodding looking at Noelle.

  “D’Angelo did the Capo Diego make a decision about making me a made man,” Tomas Winters asks, taking a drink of his whiskey.

  I turn away from the window, looking at Tomas Winters, raising my eyebrow. I take a pull of my whiskey, lowering my eyes, shaking my head.

  “Tomas, the books are closed, and the Capo doesn’t know when the Boss will open the books for the Cappola family. There’s also the issue that you’re not of full Italian descent, and the Boss is still thinking about making an exception,” I say, stone-faced.

  I think that it’s fucking not happening unless hell freezes over. It’s not my place to give him all of the details; I’m just the soldier.

  “What the hell does that mean? Does it mean that the Don isn’t taking any new soldato? I’m not going to be a made man anytime soon. I’ve been working hard proving my worth in order to get evaluated and selected to get baptized,” Tomas snarls, throwing the crystal glass at the wall.

  “Tomas, you’re important to the Cappola family; you’re a wise guy, an associate that works closely with the organization. Your work is essential,” I say, walking over to stand in front of his desk.

  “It’s fucking bullshit,” Tomas growls, placing his hands on the desks as he leans forward towards me.

  “It’s not my decision, and I need to go. No worries, I’ll see myself out,” I say, placing the glass on his desk.

  “Fuck,” Tomas yells, watching me walk to the door.

  I shrug, open the door, turning to look at him before walking out of his office. I walk down the hall and out of the house. I walk down the circular driveway and open the door to my black BMW.

  I need to go check in with the other Associate that runs the Sirens club. I need to collect and check out the next target.

  A few minutes later, I arrive at my last stop pulling into the parking lot, parking at the back next to the exit. I get out of my car, taking long strides to the back entrance. I walk into the club, looking for Cocci, the manager of the club. I pass down the employee's room, kitchen, stopping at the management closed door.

  I grab the doorknob, turning it, and push the door open.

  “Cocci,” I say, stopping at the door looking at him shove the young blonde from his lap.

  “Get out of here,” Cocci snarls, slapping the young woman’s ass.

  “Hell,” the girl grumbles, walking to the door.

  I look at her as she adjusts her dress and walks out of the office. I close the door leaning against the door, crossing my arms.

  “Dickhead, what are you doing? The Capo wants you to manage the girls, not to fuck them! Do you have the details for the next shipment,” I ask gruffly, walking to the sidebar?

  I pour some whiskey into the glass, and then I take a long pull closing my eyes.

  Fucker!

  I can’t stand him, and I don’t know why the Capo has him managing the club.

  Yeah, it’s above my paygrade, so I don’t have the fine details.

  I finish the whiskey leaning against the bar lowering my eyelids focusing on his mug. I look at the crazy tic that he has with his right eye.

  Skinny motherfucker is on my shit list. I don’t fucking trust him.

  “Yeah, here’s the intel and the money,” Cocci says, handing me a small leather bag.

  “Thank fuck,” I say, taking the small bag from his hands.

  I unzip the bag to look at the money and thumb drive. I nod, shoving the bag into my black leather jacket inside pocket.

  “I need to talk to Diego,” Cocci says, leaning back into his chair, raising his arms and clasping his hands, and rests his head looking at me.

  Fucker!

  “Yeah, I let Diego know that you want to talk to him. I need a drink; send me a barmaid to the VIP room,” I say, walking to the door.

  I take long strides, sinking my black leather shoe heel into the carpet, down the room into the VIP room, falling onto the black leather sofa. I run my hands through my hair, pulling off the black leather hair tie. I rub my scalp messy up my hair, closing my eyes.

  I really need some whiskey to take off the edge.

  I rest my head on the sofa, inhaling deeply to clear my mind. I hear the sound of the curtains rolling on the bar. I open my eyes to look at the barmaid.

  “Hello, I’m Stacy. May I get you something to drink,” asks Stacy smiling and walks into the room with the tray in her hand.

  I shift, sitting up, crossing my leg over my lap, lowering my eyelids, focusing on her blue eyes, down her to her full wide lips, down her hourglass body.

  Yeah, she’s cute but doesn’t call me.

  “Stacy, please get me a bottle of whiskey,” I say, looking at her.

  “Will do,” Stacy says, smiling at me.

  She turns, tossing her shoulder-length blonde hair swaying her hips. She pushes aside the curtain, looks over her shoulder, winks as she leaves the room.

  I lean into the sofa pulling out my cell phone from my pocket to look at the text.

  Capo Diego: New contract.

  Chris: On it.

  Capo Diego: Terrific.

  The entrance curtain opens, staying at the side. The club music blares into the room, and then I can see the dance floor.

  The barmaid Stacy walks to me, placing the tray on the small round table. She sets the ice bucket, whiskey bottle, and glasses on the table.

  “Would you like ice,” Stacy smiles, opening the bottle.

  “Yes,” I say, leaning forward, resting my hands on my knees.

  I watch her pour the golden liquid into the glass. She stares at me, handing me the glass. Her eyes slowly roam over my body.

  “Is there anything else I can get you? I mean anything,” Stacy says, looking at me.

  “Not at the moment, doll,” I say taking the glass and then taking a long pull. I lean back into the seat, watching her grab the tray from the table.

  “Right,” Stacy says, nods. She walks out of the room.

  I take another long pull of the whiskey, pressing my lips. I close my eyes, enjoying the burn. I then pour more whiskey into the glass, leaning back into the sofa.

  I walk into my room, closing the door and locking it. I walk over to my closet, pulling out my dress and heels. I dress, then I walk over to the dresser to apply my makeup, curl my hair. I then pull on my sexy black heels.

  I text my girls

  Noelle: Hey, I’m on my way to Sirens.

  Heather: Tracey and Kora are going. We’ll see you there.

  Noelle: Hell, yes! Samuele is meeting us.

  Heather: Awesome.

  I don’t want to drive, and I’m going to stay with my girls. Yeah, I don’t want to be home this weekend.

  I text Samuele.

  Noelle: On my way to Sirens.

  Samuele: I’ll be there.

  Noelle: Make your move on, Heather, before another fucker will.

  Samuele: Right!

  Samuele is so damn hot for Heather, but he’s not making his move. I need to push him. Hell, I know that the guards will follow the damn Uber, but they’ll give me some space when they see Samuele at the club.

  A few minutes later, I’m sliding out of the Uber, looking around the parking lot for the guards. I raise my arm, bending it, bringing it down in a gesture.

  “Oh yeah,” I say, grinning.

  I walk towards the entrance of the club, smiling at the bouncers. One of the bouncers, Ted, is always flirting with me and always lets me in.

  “Hey, big guy,” I say, blowing him a kiss.

  “Hi sexy,” says Ted, smirking.

  I walk through the door wide-eyed, flipping my long black hair over my shoulder, my lips turned up, looking for my girls. I look at my cell to look for any new texts.

  Nada.
<
br />   “Noelle,” Heather yells, waving her hands leaning against the bar countertop.

  Fucking hell, she’s already drunk. Yeah, I want a drink.

  I push my hair back from my face; smiling, I take long, quick strides, tapping my heels into the tile floor.

  “Nemo, where are the bitches? I need a Long Island iced tea,” I say, laughing at Heather.

  I call my friend Nemo because I always lose her in the club. I wave my hand to the bartender smiling.

  The bartender walks over, nodding.

  “What can I get you,” the bartender says, nodding.

  “Long Island iced tea,” I say, laughing.

  “Fuck, you’re in one of your moods. Kora and Tracey are in the restroom,” Heather says, laughing.

  “Yeah, Dad dearest was being his usual bossy asshole self. He has his men following me everywhere, and he warned me of not fucking around,” I say, tapping my long nails on the bar countertop.

  As if I do fuck around. Not that I don’t want to, but it just hasn’t happened. But I will make damn sure to fuck around now.

  The bartender places the drink in front of me.

  “Thanks, Hun, please bring me another one,” I say, taking the glass drinking half of the Long Island iced tea. I turn to look into the club, holding the glass.

  “Fuck Sassy, that sucks,” Heather says, shaking her head.

  My bestie likes to call me Sassy because of my mouth. Fuck! It’s part of who I am, or should I say, who I was forged to survive.

  “Yeah, but I don’t want to talk about it. Are there any hunks in this club,” I ask, taking a long pull of my drink?

  I smirk, closing my eyes, feeling lightheaded as I sway to the music.

  Yeah, I’m a little drunk, but it’s fuckingtastic. I want to have fun, fuck a hunk, and my Dad is damn.

  I finish off the rest of my drink, laughing.

  “Sassy, yeah, I see a lot of hunks,” Heather says, laughing.

  “Fuckingtastic! Tonight, I’m having fun,” I yell, waving my hand looking at the bartender.

  The bartender nods, and a few minutes later, she brings me another drink.

  “Thanks doll,” I say, laughing taking the glass. I take a pull, smiling as I look around the room.