Bella Mafia

by Sienna Mynx

  “Will you be okay?” she asked.

  “I’ll be fine,” Marietta said.

  “You lie down, eat, and then take your medicine. Okay? In that order?”

  “I’ll be fine,” Marietta assured her.

  “Va bene,” Catalina sighed in defeat.

  Marietta was escorted out. Catalina plucked a few summer dresses without even checking the size. She didn’t care. She went to reach for a few negligees and he cleared his throat. Her hand froze.

  “No need for that. I prefer you sleep in nothing,” Armando said.

  “You're not a man who wants his woman to dress sexy for him?” she half-laughed.

  “My woman? You're my woman now?” he asked.

  “Aren't I?” she asked. “You order me around as if I was.”

  Armando’s brows lowered. He took a step forward with his hands in his pockets. “Something change, sweetheart? We have an agreement.” His words brought forth a fresh wave of nerves to coil in her belly. She made sure to steady her voice when she spoke again to keep him from knowing.

  “That doesn’t mean I have to play poodle and jump on your lap every time you command it. I’m not that kind of girl.”

  When he mocked her with a smile, she tossed the clothes to the floor. The door to the boutique was closed. There was no one inside but them. Catalina pulled her shirt over her head. He watched her with a raised brow. Next went her jean skirt. She pushed it down her hips. She wore no panties. The ones back at his place were torn and soiled.

  Armando’s gaze fixated on her below the navel. Catalina put her hands to her hips and let him stare. There was a sliver of power she did wield between them, and in that moment they both knew it.

  “Well? Fuck me or leave!” she said. “I’ll be bored to death either way!”

  The dazed look of lust in his eyes melted away and they returned to their usual mean state. He looked insulted. It didn’t matter. That temporary lapse was enough to convince her, that she had the real power. The kind Delilah held over Sampson. The power she would need to help herself and her family as they march into the Giovanni and Lorenzo war. Don Armando was hers for the taking.

  Catalina glanced behind her. The table nearest her had a rainbow assortment of panties laid flat in a circle. She stepped back, and swiped the neat arrangement away with her hand so she could sit upon it. Confidence rolled off Armando’s shoulders like the man of importance that he was. His dark eyes blinked slowly, and then his gaze drilled into her. Armando stepped forward. Her knees bumped his thighs.

  “Apri le gambe—part your thighs,” he said.

  She did as he ordered.

  “You want to be fucked?” he asked as he undid his belt and ran down his zipper. “My fucking bores you?”

  She laughed in his face.

  “You think all I want from you is sex?” There was a hard edge to Armando’s face now as he focused on her intensely. He yanked her forward by her thighs, and his nails dug into the skin at their sides. Was he playfully teasing her, or being a jerk? His cock surged into her and the table shook. Immediately she knew, she had unbalanced the scales of power. He was inside of her. And painfully her buttocks were pressed into the cutting round edge of the table as he delivered uncompromising thrusts. His angle was too low. It hurt. He pinned her there no matter how she struggled. He was big and hard inside her, and her body naturally tried to resist. It didn’t matter that she tried to scoot upward and back on the table, there was nowhere to go.

  “Wait, you’re hurting me...”

  “I bore you when I fuck you.” He grunted and thrust into her again, harder. She winced. She gripped his arms to stop him. This was different. Shockingly so. Last night there had been tenderness between them. And she hadn’t realized it. She dismissed it. Being fucked by him in that moment cut through her dignity, and pride. Armando grabbed her throat. Catalina gagged. He glared into her eyes with murderous intent. He thrust into her harder and harder. Please not like this! It didn’t feel good. It didn’t feel bad. It felt dangerous. And that was when Armando ruthlessly stole from her what was hers to give.

  “Stop, please,” she wheezed when his hand circled her throat tighter and tighter, and his cock hit deeper and deeper. “Please, Armando,” she said, and tears slipped from the corners of her eyes. His actions, combined with his tongue tracing her tears, was too much. She screamed at him to stop. He held still. He didn’t advance, and he didn’t retreat either. When her eyes opened, she saw him look pleased with the look on her face, and the tremble of her bottom lip. He let go of her neck. His erection slid out of her. She broke into tears and shoved him away—completely humiliated. She raced for the changing room and went inside. She slammed the door shut. The minute she did she went to her knees and cried.

  “Tutto va bene?” he asked with a concerned voice from the other side of the door. His Jekyll and Hyde routine made the words sound even more sinister, so she didn’t bother to answer. She wiped her tears and closed her eyes. She was terrified.

  “You angered me. Mocked me. I won’t have it, Catalina. My feelings for you are not a weapon for you to use against me. If you want violence I can give you violence. If you want my friendship, then let me be a friend.”

  “Go away...” her voice croaked.

  “Don’t toy with me, Catalina, don’t think you can ever control me. Not with sex, not with anything. I won’t tolerate it.” His dark voice soaked into the small changing closet despite the door between them.

  “Che palle! Go away!”

  “I’m sorry I scared you, piccoletta. But you have to know who I am. I’m not that little boy you loved and would follow you around like a trained puppy. I’m not your father or your brother. I don’t want to shield you from my darkness. I want you to accept it, like I have.”

  Catalina looked up to the door. She wished for her purse and the gun she kept inside. The Don was crazy, as crazy as all the men in her life. Crazy with punishing cruelty. He was crazy, controlling, and possessive. But not her Domi, never her Domi. He was the sweetness that made her believe in love. She’d probably never know that kind of love again. She had only hoped to use Armando’s madness against him. But now she was afraid for them all.

  The door to the changing closet had no lock on it. And he must have discovered that truth when he pressed his hand to it. At first it only moved an inch. Then it opened. Armando came inside. Catalina stood. She snatched a leftover dress from the bench seat and covered herself with it. She needed modesty.

  “I won’t do that to you again. Don’t ask me to treat you like one of my whores. It’s not what either of us want. Capisce?”

  “I need to change,” she said, her voice squeaked with emotion. Armando closed the door to the changing closet locking them both inside. She stepped further back. Her pussy and her pelvis hurt. Her eyes stretched with terror. She retreated further, until her backside was pressed against the mirror.

  “I love you.”

  “Please leave.”

  He touched her face and she turned it away.

  “You’re the second man in just under two weeks to choke me. The second!” she wept. “Don’t you ever do that to me again! Do you hear me? Ever!”

  He’d taken away her pride. Fear and weakness was all she had now. She sobbed openly. Armando froze at first. And then he gathered her into his arms, away from the safe comfort of the wall. She put her arms up between them as a barrier to the forced embrace. He squeezed her to him. And he kissed her tear streaked face.

  “Dammi un bacio—give me a kiss.”

  His mouth started to move across her cheek to her own. She pressed her lips together and squeezed her eyes shut. The last thing she wanted was a kiss from him. The game between them had gone too far. She just wanted him to leave her. But she could feel his erection pressing into her. Hear his soft panted breath escaping his nostrils. Recognize the way he rubbed and squeezed her buttocks. He wanted her again and there was nothing between them. Not even consent.

  “Ti amo all
o follia,” he said. His tongue slipped into her mouth. The kiss was more like a chase. His tongue for hers. “Tu sei la mia ossessione—you are my obsession,” he wheezed and lifted her. She moved her arms from between them and wrapped them around his neck. Her thighs were hitched and then circled his waist. And he eased his long dick back up into her with a shallow thrust and then a more surging one. Catalina gasped. She kept kissing him. Armando’s pants dropped to his knees. He kept circling his hips to give her more and more of him. She rode his cock. Up and down she went as he cradled her ass in both hands.

  “I love this pussy,” he groaned.

  She tilted her head back, and cried out in pleasure. Something was seriously wrong with her. She’d murdered her cousin, and now she was fucking a man who had just attacked her. And she felt less and less for it. She was slipping into the darkness—just as he wanted.

  “Yes,” he groaned at the sound of her sexual gasps and whimpering pleasure.

  “Damn it, I love this pussy.”

  Armando pushed her up off his dick and then let her down. Once she landed on her feet he turned her to face the mirror. Though she arrived bottomless to the boutique, she still wore her bra. He reached around to the front of her and ripped the bra open. The thin latch snapped, and her breasts spilled out. He pushed her up against the mirror, but forced her ass to draw back. Only her face and breasts were against the cool glass. He ran his hand around to cup her pussy, as he kicked her feet apart. He then went in. And he went in with a single thrust.

  He said something obscene, and thrust into her again, this time pinching her clit. Catalina cried out and smiled. He began to work his dick in and out of her. He let go of her distressed clit, and held her hips. In and out he went. She found her clit, and used her own masturbatory skills to draw forth the orgasm from her channel, to the lightening rod center of her pelvis.

  “Armando,” she cried out as the climax speared through her.

  “Almost there, almost,” he panted and kept screwing into her. She wished to face him. To force him down to the floor and ride him. But she couldn’t even bring herself to say it. He thrust up into her with a final powerful pump, and crushed her into the mirror. His final thrusts were so powerful she was on her toes and her knees were shaking. Then she climaxed.

  They were done.

  Armando lifted off of her. He picked up the overpriced garment and cleaned his dick. He tossed it to the floor and walked out. Catalina remained pressed to the glass. She waited until her breathing returned, and her body stopped shaking with the aftershocks before moving. When she did, Armando returned with several dresses. She stood there with her torn bra and rosy cheeks. She stared at him. This time he didn’t stare at her. He couldn’t look her in the eye. “Get dressed. Collect what you need. I’ll take you home.”

  “He’ll kill you, Armando. If Giovanni lives, and he finds out about us, about what we are now, he’ll kill you. He’ll get his revenge for all of us. You do know how this ends.”

  “You’ll be surprised by how this ends, piccoletta.” Armando cast a look back at her. “You hate me now. But that will change.”

  She frowned.

  He left.

  Marietta kept her hand protectively over her belly and remained calm. She didn't want her husband to notice the slightest bit of distress on her face. At the end of a hall was the bedroom they shared. There were two other rooms and a bathroom. All of them empty and reserved for their use. Still she felt the isolation was false. She glanced up to the corner ceiling. A tiny security camera was there in the deepest shadow. The blinking red light said it was on.

  In Melanzana, there were cameras for securing every corner of every perimeter. These cameras were not allowed inside of the family home. Mirabella never wanted what was outside, inside. Armando had a level of paranoia that gave her pause. She knew very little of his world. Who were his enemies, how safe were his territories?

  “Lorenzo?” she said after she pushed the door open. To her horror, his bed was empty. Just this morning he could barely sit upright and now he was gone?

  “Lorenzo!”

  “In here!” he answered with a tinge of irritation in his voice. Lorenzo limped out of the bathroom, half dragging his leg. She couldn't believe that he found the strength to stand.

  “Marie?”

  “Hi,” she said with a smile.

  “What took you so long?”

  “Why are you out of bed?” She rushed over to him and offered her help. “You shouldn't be walking around. It's too soon.”

  “I had to piss.”

  “Oh? Well I can help.”

  “How?”

  “You could piss in the cup like we did on the boat and I’ll get rid of it for you.”

  “And if I have to shit?”

  “Lo!” Marietta huffed.

  He chuckled. “I’m not a cripple. I can piss without you holding my pecker.”

  “You need to get stronger,” she sighed.

  “What did the doctor say?” he asked.

  She helped him sit on the edge of the bed, and then sat next to him. The good thing was he had some of his color back. But she could see blood rising from his bandage on his leg. Even the short walk to piss could rupture his bandages.

  “Marie? What did the doctor say?”

  “I don't... need stress. The doctor said the baby won't make it full term. He said the baby will come early and die.”

  “Che cavolo! Die?”

  Why she added the last bit was not really clear to her. Maybe it was because in her heart she knew the fate of her child if things kept the way they were.

  “Marie,” he pulled her into his arms. “I won’t let that happen.”

  She closed her eyes and drew strength from her husband. “It’s my punishment Lo, I’ve told so many lies I have to be punished.”

  “No. You have only done what is necessary...”

  “Don’t defend me. We’re beyond that now. The doctors told us months ago that pregnancy is difficult for me, it’s no one’s fault. We knew this before it all began. The traveling to the States, and everything, it was just all too much. I need to be calm. And having you well calms me. So stay in bed. Don’t get up. Don’t leave me.”

  “I want to speak with Armando. Meet with him today.”

  “No. Did you hear what I said?”

  “Marie?”

  “Not yet, he, uh, isn't here anyway.”

  “I can always tell when you are hiding something. Has he made more threats?”

  “No.”

  “Did the doctor say more, something else I should know?”

  “What else is there to know?”

  Lorenzo sighed. She reached for her purse. He let her go. She removed a glossy thin picture and gave it to him. “That’s our baby. She has all her toes and you can see her nose, and look at her round head. Like yours. Big round head. See her.”

  “She?” he asked and smiled.

  “The doctor wrote the gender down on a piece of paper. Here.” She removed the tiny envelope. “We can look at it together.”

  “I want it to be a surprise,” he smiled and didn’t accept the envelope. He held the ultrasound picture up. “Look at the squid! My squid!”

  Marietta smiled. She couldn’t stop the tears from falling. She didn’t have much control of her emotions. Her husband put his arm around her, and she tried to escape his embrace. She could not. He forced her to lie back on the bed. He turned on his side and moved his wounded leg to a position of comfort. He set the picture of the baby between them on the space where their pillows met. He touched her face. She closed her eyes and the tears stopped.

  “What is it?” he asked and stroked her cheek. “What else is bothering you?”

  “Isn’t the baby enough?”

  “I know my wife. I know my woman. There’s something else. There always is.”

  She gave him a small smile and nodded.

  “Tell me. I’m listening,” he said.

  “I miss my sister.”


  “Then call her.”

  “I can’t. I wouldn’t know what to say.”

  “I’ve told you,” he whispered in her ear. “This is on me. No one blames you.”

  “If I lie to her,” she whispered. “And she finds out. Will she forgive me? If I tell her the truth, will she forgive me? Either way she will hate me. Won’t she?”

  “You will lie to her, and everyone. You understand me? You will always lie on this. You did not shoot Giovanni.”

  “And what about Carlo?” she said too loud. He gave her a stern look.

  “What about him?” he whispered.

  “He was there. I hurt him. I could have killed him. He knows I took his gun. He knows what I did.”

  “The gun.” Lorenzo’s head lifted from the pillow.

  “Yes?”

  “Did you bring it out of the warehouse? Does Armando have it?”

  “I don’t know. It all happened so fast. You were hurt. And then you picked up Giovanni. I don’t remember the gun after that... I think... I think we left it behind.”

  Lorenzo bit down on the inside of his jaw. Marietta knew that look on his face. He was troubled. Which meant she should worry.

  “I can explain it. You stick to the story.”

  “We can’t trust him, Lo,” she said. “Carlo will turn on us.”

  “We can trust him to be who he is. And you can trust me, Marie, to be who I am.”

  “Who are you now without Giovanni? Without the family?”

  Lorenzo smirked. “I’m everyone’s enemy. And they are mine.”

  She removed the picture from his hand and set it aside. She scooted in closer to her husband and hugged him. He stroked her hair and said the things she needed to hear. It helped. But she missed her sister so deeply and profoundly it shocked her.

  “None of this is your fault, Marie,” Lorenzo said. She opened her eyes and looked up at him confused. “I’m getting better, Marie. Stronger. And as soon as I can get out of this bed, I'm fixing this. Okay? Trust me a little longer.”

  “I do. I will. I love you.”

  “That's my girl.”