Ruthless Empire: A Dark Mafia Collection

by Seth Eden

  “Ah, that makes sense. I recently moved here from a small town in New York to run my business. I had my parents’ support back in my hometown, but when I moved here all alone, it was stressful.”

  Gabriel tilted his head to the side. “Did you drive all the way here from New York?”

  I recoiled a bit. “What?”

  “Earlier. You said you came straight here from your parents’ place. You drove here from New York?” He was looking at me with quizzical innocence.

  I was shocked. I’d never had someone listen to me that closely before. “Oh. No. They moved here. They actually just got here today. I was just finishing up helping them unpack when your sister-in-law called. I came here from there.”

  “Oh.” Gabriel nodded with understanding. “Will they help you more now that they’re here?”

  He shot straight for the heart, asking a question I’d barely considered myself. I loved my parents, but they did things differently than I did. It was nice having their help back in Woodstock, but I’d been on my own for six months and had found that I liked not having them lording over my decisions.

  “Sorry,” Gabriel cut into my thoughts. “Seems like it’s me asking the bad questions now.”

  I was skilled in reading body language and auras. What had he picked up on in me? “No, it’s okay. I don’t think I will, actually. I love my parents so much, and they were great back in my hometown, but I’ve liked doing it on my own.”

  “Haven’t found a way to break it to them yet?” Gabriel asked.

  I shook my head. “I don’t want to hurt them.”

  “Well, you should tell them soon.” I looked at him, and his eyes were less open than they were when I first entered the studio. Steely and full of some experience he wasn’t sharing. “I know better than most how bad things can get when you stand on the sidelines.”

  I didn’t ask about his relationship that had prompted the advice he was giving me. I got the sense he didn’t want to share. Whatever had happened to beautiful Gabriel Varasso had left a long-standing scar. Not on his physical, tan and freckled skin but on the flesh that most people don’t see—that of his spirit. It wasn’t my place to delve, but as Gabriel turned his eyes away from me and his mind drifted off to a place I couldn’t get to, I was curious at just how serious the truth really was.

  5

  Gabriel

  I had been dragging out the end of my yoga session for the past forty minutes. I knew it was only meant to be an hour and a half long, but I got along with Stacy better than I’d gotten along with any woman I’d ever been with. Plus, she was a stunner who was hard to walk away from. Every time she tried to bring things to a close, I’d pick a different area of my body and ask her if there was a good stretch for it. She didn’t deny my fake curiosities. In fact, if I was reading the situation right, she was just as relieved as I was every time I asked another question.

  It had been less than a couple of hours, but the chemistry between us was strong. There was no denying it. The more time pressed on, the more I considered just taking the plunge and asking her out. The only thing holding me back was the fear of rejection. If she said no, I could never come back to this studio. At least if I didn’t push it, I could just continue coming for yoga whenever I had the chance, and maybe something would blossom more naturally.

  “I would recommend doing it first thing when you wake up in the morning,” Stacy concluded after showing me a pose that would help with my hips. “Before bed is good, too, but if you overwork yourself, it can be tough on your body when you’re sleeping. At least if you’re waking up for the day, your body can work out any kinks if you hit them. I’d say morning until you’re comfortable, then you can switch to both if you think it’ll help.”

  “Okay. Thanks. I know I have a lot of questions. I guess I didn’t expect it to help so much. I just want to have a full arsenal.”

  She smiled at me, bridging the silence that now existed between us. She’d concluded the last few moves by starting to walk away, but now she just stood still, eyes flicking everywhere but at me.

  Finally, I said, “I’ll pay you for the extra time. I know we went over.”

  She shook her head. “Oh, that’s okay. I don’t mind dragging out a session, especially for someone who needs it.”

  “Still, your time is valuable, and I’ve wasted about an hour of it.”

  The summits of her cheeks got a touch darker. “Not a second of this has been a waste of time.”

  The way she said it washed over me like a rush of invisible energy. She was so fucking beautiful that I couldn’t stand it. I didn’t want to leave.

  “Well, thanks for everything.”

  Disappointment flashed across her eyes, too. “Yeah. Hopefully, I’ll see you again soon.”

  “Definitely.” Could I honestly walk out of this studio and never see this perfect person again? Not a chance in hell.

  I grabbed my water bottle, phone, and wallet, and started to walk towards the door. My motions were slow, dragging, like trudging through mud. Each step further from her that I was, it was like there was a high-grade magnet behind me, and I was wearing a metal plate on my back. I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text to Luca.

  Hey, would I be able to take

  the night off to ask out this

  girl?

  I expected a refusal. That would be excuse enough to just continue out of the studio and look forward to the next time I could come and do yoga, but as I set my hand on the door to leave, a text came back, and it shocked me.

  If she’s hot you fucking

  better.

  She certainly was that. If Luca saying no was excuse enough to leave, then by all logic, him saying yes was excuse enough to stay, right?

  I flipped around. “Hey, uh, do you have any other sessions today?”

  Stacy was rolling up the mats and looked up to meet my gaze. “No. You were it. Did you need more advice?”

  I took a deep breath and tried to muster up some of that Varasso confidence my brothers all seemed to possess that had missed me. “No, I was thinking about cutting the crap and just asking you out.”

  That definitely sounded like Marco. It was odd coming out of my mouth, though. It almost sounded like I didn’t enjoy the past two hours, which couldn’t be further from the truth.

  “N-not that I didn’t enjoy this, because I did, a lot.” Fuck. I was floundering. I should have just left it. “But that last forty minutes or so was really great, so I could spend a little more time with you.”

  Now you sound creepy, Gabriel. Stop talking.

  “I’ll go.”

  Stacy jumped up, laughing. “No, wait.” She doubled over for a second before getting upright again, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “You’re not good at this, are you?”

  “What gave me away?” I said flatly, and she laughed more. It was a melodic, joyful noise. Something I could fall asleep to at night.

  “That first line was a good one, but then you just kept talking.”

  I threw my hands in the air. “I knew it!” I groaned. “I didn’t want you to think I was just here for that. The yoga really helped.”

  Her laughter subsided, but a gentle grin remained. “That first line wasn’t really you, though.”

  It sent chills down my spine. Had she really figured me out so much in just a couple of hours? “It sounded like something my older brother would say, and he always did great with women.”

  Stacy walked across the studio until she was standing right in front of me. I had to repress the urge to kiss her. She agreed to go out with me, but we weren’t there yet. “Just be yourself, Gabriel. You’re pretty great.”

  I was ice cream melting under the warm embrace of the afternoon sun. Stacy glowed like it, too. “Thanks. Drinks?”

  She nodded with a giggle. “Drinks sound great.”

  I typically liked to put a little more effort into my dates when I planned them, but spur of the moment seemed to be working with Stacy, so I decided t
o ride that train until the wheels fell off. After changing into a spare suit I always kept in my car for emergencies, I followed her to her house and waited outside while she got changed. She lived in a modern-looking home with a flat roof and tons of windows.

  I couldn’t keep myself from doing a slow scan of the neighborhood while I waited, checking to see if she had any neighbors around our age. If I were a guy living across from Stacy, I’d almost certainly turn into a creep. I had no right to stop anyone from looking at her, but if I gave them an evil stare, it wouldn’t hurt, right? I need not find out. After about twenty minutes, all I’d seen were elderly couples and a few families.

  When Stacy came back out of the house, I was tempted to drive off. She’d left her earlier sundress behind and had changed into a flower crown of black roses and a black and blue bohemian chiffon dress that hugged her shoulders, chest, and stomach, then flared out in a train at the waist, giving me sweet shots of her legs as she walked. She topped the ensemble off with black wedge-heel sandals and a circlet around her right bicep.

  “Fuck,” I hissed out loud.

  I wanted to believe she was at her max back at the studio, just the kind of woman who likes to look her best always, but her earlier appearance was just a work-out persona. Dressed-up Stacy was a bullet to the face. She climbed into the driver’s seat, filling my car with a sweet scent of milk and honey.

  I grumbled. “You have to get out. I’m not worthy.”

  A brief look of shock faded into a chuckle. “You clean up pretty nice yourself there, Mr. Varasso.”

  It was downright unfair. How was every single word out of her mouth electrocuting me? What was I thinking, asking her out? I could barely be in a completely professional situation and not make an ass of myself. I was going to ruin the date for sure. I felt a hand on mine and looked over. She had a crook to her smile, and her sea-green eyes were dead set on mine.

  “It’s okay.” She shook her head. “I can damn near see you writing doubt on your forehead. I wouldn’t have agreed to go out with you if I didn’t want to go. Just relax.”

  My heart was pounding, cracking my chest cavity more and more with each beat. “Thanks. Sorry. I swear I’m not new at this.” That wasn’t entirely true. I’d been out with women before, but I’d never been out with a woman like her.

  “I believe you.” She pulled her hand back and set it in her lap. “Where are we going for drinks?”

  “There’s this great place outside of Philly. It’s got a more,” I said and fumbled for the word, “natural vibe. I think you’ll like it.”

  The small grin on her face curved into an impressed smile. “It sounds like I will.”

  “Great. Let’s go.”

  I drove Stacy to the place I’d told her about on the outskirts of Philadelphia. It wasn’t just that it had an atmosphere I felt like Stacy would enjoy, but it had the added benefit of being about a thirty-five-minute drive. All the more time to spend with her. We chatted nonstop on the way to the bar, and then once we’d collected drinks and found a table, our conversation continued like we were old friends. Only after there was enough liquor in me was Stacy able to drag me to the dance floor, where minutes faded into hours.

  The dance floor was packed, but for as much as we knew, we were the only two there. Upbeat songs had Stacy shaking her hips and swirling around me like a pro, manipulating her body in ways I didn’t know were possible. The flashing, multicolored lights danced over her pale skin and made me want to move wherever she did. I wasn’t a dancer, but that night I was. For Stacy, I’d dance nonstop. If not then, then certainly when the songs crawled into slower melodies that pulled Stacy against me, swaying her hips under my hands that were allowed to rest there. That alone was worth the price of admission.

  “I could have sworn you told me you don’t like dancing,” Stacy mocked when we finally returned to our table in search of food. “Couldn’t tell.”

  “I couldn’t either,” I admitted. “I blame you. You looked like you were having so much fun.”

  “I was.” She shrugged. “I still am.”

  She tore her eyes from mine to look down at the menu, and a tiny, unreasonably adorable squeak popped out of her.

  “What?” I asked.

  “They have vegan pizza! I’ve been searching for a place since I got here.”

  “Vegan?” I asked, and Stacy’s eyes shot up to mine. “What?”

  “Vegan. No meat, no dairy. Basically, nothing made from an animal.”

  My eyes drifted up as I considered how many pieces of bacon I put away a day alone. “I am not vegan.”

  Stacy laughed. “I gathered. Technically, I’m not either, yet. I’m trying.”

  “Why?” I asked with grime to my voice that was judgemental and rude. “I’m sorry. That came out rude.”

  Stacy shook her head. “No, it’s okay. I don’t understand myself, sometimes. I just can’t give up cheese.” She chuckled at herself as she looked over her menu, and I found myself just staring at her. “I assume you’re going to get regular pizza then?”

  I didn’t respond, so she looked up again. “Gabe?” I pulled back a bit, and Stacy shook her head. “Sorry, Gabriel.”

  “Nope. As it turns out, Gabe sounds good, too.” I laughed. “And yes, I’ll be getting pizza with meat like a normal person.”

  Stacy giggled. “Hey! If it’s cooked right, it tastes good.”

  I boldly reached a hand across the table and rubbed Stacy’s cheek. “Okay, gorgeous, sure it is.”

  “You have to try it,” she replied, leaning into my touch. “Just one slice.”

  “I’m okay.”

  She raised an eyebrow, and a mischievous look crossed her face. “Okay, I’ll make you a deal.”

  “Okay,” I responded, knowing there was nothing she could say to convince me to eat a piece of pizza with fake cheese and no meat. That wasn’t pizza. That was bread with sauce.

  “If you eat one whole piece of the vegan pizza,”—she took hold of my bold hand on her face and raised it, sticking her tongue out and sliding it up the side of my thumb—“instead of just dropping me off, I’ll invite you inside.”

  6

  Gabriel

  The pizza barely touched the inside of my mouth. It wasn’t just that Stacy was perfect in every way, though that was a majority of it. I hadn’t been with a woman in well over a year. It wasn’t for lack of trying, but unlike my brothers’ playboy tendencies prior to meeting their partners, I considered myself a romantic. I dated one girl almost all the way through high school, and unlike the typical, cliche story, it was she who broke up with me when we got to senior year and still hadn’t had sex. Neither of us had lost our virginity yet, and I wanted it to be special.

  My dad was careful not to spoil my brothers and me with unlimited access to our family’s money, and we earned allowances the same as other kids. I was trying to save up what I would need to rent out a nice hotel, buy dozens of roses and candles, maybe even get her a nice, sexy nightie, something to really commemorate the occasion.

  Apparently, she wasn’t willing to wait that long.

  The weekend I attempted to pull off our big lose-our-virginity night, I discovered that she was sleeping with someone else, someone she’d already given her virginity to two months prior. She liked my family’s money and clout and stuck it out for that reason. Even after sad, lovesick Gabriel was willing to forgive her and take her back, she told me she couldn’t be with someone so innocent and let me go. It took me a few years to recover from that. My brothers finally got me plastered on my twenty-first birthday and took me out to meet—and eventually have sex with for the first time—a woman whose last name I didn’t even know. I tried my hardest to get her to date me, not wanting to have lost something so special to a woman I wasn’t involved with. For a while, it worked, but eventually, she came to the same conclusion my first girlfriend did—I was too innocent.

  I made Alessandro try and teach me how to be a dog after that. How to sleep with women an
d not call them back, how to date a woman just enough to get sex out of her and then leave her alone, how to find women who were only interested in sex and nothing more. I would call his efforts successful, given that I spent the next year sleeping around with any woman I could get my hands on, but it made me feel gross. My brothers called me soft, but I thought there was something to being with a woman you actually cared about, something they all eventually learned when they started meeting the loves of their lives and getting married. In truth, my father’s infidelity had made them all ideal husbands—the murderous line of work aside.

  In all the women I’d dated or slept with, nothing ever felt as sure to me as Stacy did. I didn’t get that sinking feeling that we wouldn’t talk again. Things were moving fast, but I was okay with that, and I knew she was, too. We were smitten.

  Stacy made good on her promise. As soon as we finished eating—packing up more to go than we might have, had something else not been etching away at our patience—we got in my car and drove right to her house. As if to boost that I was, in fact, invited inside, the second the car was in park, Stacy reached over and took the keys out herself, clutching them in one of her porcelain hands as she climbed out and started up the pathway to her front door without looking back.

  I wouldn’t pass a test on what the inside of Stacy’s house looked like. The second we were inside her front door, my hands were already wrapping around her waist to pull her to me. She was facing away from me, but I buried my face into her blonde waves and took a deep breath of her shampoo, which mingled well with the flowery scent of the rose crown woven in. She leaned back against me, put her hands up, and linked them behind my neck. She was like a pristine statue. She had a lithe form with a modest bust and a pert, squeezable behind that was already arching up to tease a lower appendage of mine, which was already fighting against the restricting fabric of my pants. My hands massaged over the thin layers of her dress, working their way down her sides and over her stomach. The breath she let out when my fingers finally slipped under the article and made their first contact with her skin was intoxicating. It hovered somewhere between a moan and a gasp, saying it was a feeling she hadn’t prepared for but wasn’t opposed to.