by Anna Widzisz
They spent another hour like this before the boy completely calmed down and fell asleep.
Chapter Six
The chick was fucking weird.
That was all Elio could really say about Savannah. A walking, talking contradiction. So, as soon as he left the parking lot and drove towards Father's nightclub, he decided to shove away any thought he had about the girl. He was curious as to so many things; her living-conditions, the girl who left the apartment a few minutes after Savannah had gone inside and a salary that surely must have been enough for a much better place.
But fuck it.
It wasn’t his problem, nor did he want it at the forefront of his mind.
His phone rang. Fabro's name flashed on the screen. With hesitation, Elio picked up. "What's up?”
"Where the hell are you? You were supposed to be done quickly.”
"I got held up," he explained, still not sure where to go exactly.
"Then hurry the fuck up. Noah Falcone and his brother showed up. We're waiting." And with that he hung up, not giving Elio the opportunity to say anything. He already intended to meet up with Fabro that night, but it made him angry when someone ordered him around. Let alone when that person was his twin brother. Just to fuck with him, he considered turning around and going home. So that he wouldn’t think Elio was at his command. Because he wasn’t.
However, Fabro mentioned his Capo. And if he already told the man that he would be there, it could appear as disrespectful not to show up. He couldn't let himself go that far. His boss was above such petty acts. Besides, partying still sounded better than seeing Father. The old fucker would get his money but later in the morning.
Going into the club he heard loud music coming off the speakers. Many people were dancing, drinking, and doing whatever else. Since it was the weekend, he wasn't surprised at all. Actually, even in the middle of the week, there were people there. It was Las Vegas. The city of sin and all-around partying. Nothing new, really.
Looking around he noticed Noah Falcone at once. A tall, broad-shouldered man with messy blond hair who captured each girl's attention. It was quite amusing to see that even those that clearly came with their boyfriends, made a point of glancing towards him. Capo himself was dancing with some redheaded girl on the dance floor. Or maybe dancing was too much as she was basically dry humping him in her short, tight red dress.
Fabro and Flavio, Noah's younger brother, were sitting in a booth, drinking beer, and talking about something. His brother's hand was around one of the dancers’ shoulders and she was kissing his neck shamelessly. As if she didn't realize that the guy was actually preoccupied with the conversation. However, per usual, Fabro didn't seem to mind.
Elio looked at the younger Falcone once again. It was probably the first time he was here. There were a couple of occasions when they’d met at social gatherings and a couple of business meetings that Father had with the boss but they had never talked before. Let alone interact.
From time to time Noah came to the club to fuck women, usually pole dancers. It was the easiest way for most Made Men, and as it was, they couldn't be bothered to make a push. The hunt was thrilling but a complete waste of time. Elio never really saw the appeal of chasing after some chick. There were plenty more fish in the sea. Willing ones.
He squeezed through the crowd. "Hey," he greeted them.
"Finally!" Fabro called out upon seeing his brother. At this moment Noah joined them in the booth. They shook hands, sitting down. "Did Hunter give you a hard time?”
“No."
His waitress did.
But he wouldn't say it. Since he still didn't know what to make of it, he preferred to sit on everything that had happened that night. What was important, was that he got the money and the old guy would probably remember how his fist felt colliding with his jaw for a few weeks at least.
Hopefully, forever, since he busted his knuckles and didn't want it to go to waste.
"Job got tough?" asked Noah, raising his eyebrow.
It could be taken as a simple question, but with him, it was never that. Being vigilant was in his job description. Especially after his father’s monumental fuck ups, as his successor he clearly wanted to be better.
And he was.
Elio smirked, taking a sip of his alcohol. "Not even close," he said.
Right at that moment one of the girls came up to them. She was a dancer that had been working there for quite a while. Confident and fucking hot, as Elio thought. Long, lean legs and six-inch heels were what he saw instantly. Then, as his eyes moved higher, he noticed a short, tight, red skirt and a black, lacy bralette that accented her most likely fake boobs. Not that it mattered. The bigger, the better.
A small smile pulled at her red, heart-shaped lips. A silent invitation that Elio needed. He got up, excusing himself. The men barely acknowledged his leave. They knew that at some point in the night, he would come back. He grabbed the girl's hand and pulled her towards the stairs to one of the VIP rooms.
As the door closed, the music became a little less vibrant. People could at least hear their thoughts; not that Elio was planning on doing much thinking here this time around. The rooms could be used for many different purposes but usually for business meetings or fucking. The latter appealed to the man more and more as he saw the girl undressing him with her eyes.
She sat down on a big leather couch and Elio came up closer, standing in front of her, appraising her.
The whole room was red due to the neon lights coming from a few pieces of furniture. It added to the atmosphere which was already tight and euphoric.
He cocked his head, adjusting his dick through his pants but quickly pushed them down, along with his briefs. He fisted her ponytail, holding her head closer to his groin.
"Suck it," he said simply.
There was no hesitation on her face. She gladly took him up on his order and opened her mouth, closing it on him. As she wasn't prepared for how big he was, she grazed his cock with teeth, however, Elio only grew under the pressure. He didn't mind rough foreplay one bit. Unless the girl wouldn't be careful not to get out of the line.
It wasn't their first time fucking, so he knew she would make it worth his while. He took off his shirt as the girl kept on sucking. Moans kept escaping her lips and Elio started to believe that she was getting off on it more than he was. Skillfully, she kept on licking him from the base up, her eyes never leaving his. Girls thought that keeping eye contact with a man was the way to make the experience more sensual. It might be true, but not for Elio. Not when he didn't care about the girl, whatsoever. She wanted to fuck, he wanted to end this on a good note. That's it.
She dug her long nails in his thighs, scratching them while he came between her lips. Hot, thick liquid filled her throat as she swallowed it down.
Elio pulled out, taking a seat and helping the dancer straddle him.
The girl's fingers trailed down his chest, her lips against his neck. He kept on staring at the wall cabinet full of alcohol, thinking which one he would drink after he fucked her rough. His hand travelled up her spine. Her skin covered in goosebumps as a light breeze tucked on her body.
She moaned positioning herself over his legs, pressing her pussy against his cock, humping it slowly. She was still wearing panties, adding to the sensation. Feeling the heat, he shifted even closer, grabbing her throat, however, he didn't put much pressure on it.
Another moan escaped her lips. "Elio."
It was quite ridiculous that she got so into this that she needed to say his name out loud. Even more ridiculous that he wouldn't do the same. Not just because he didn't know her name. It might be Emma or Emily. But his mind went back to a certain waitress that worked in the diner under Las Vegas Famiglia’s protection.
Savannah.
Her bright blue eyes were all he could see each time the dancer opened hers, looking at him with desire. And it was getting him even more hellbent on doing whatever possible to forget. There was literally no reason for Elio
to think of her now.
Yes, Savannah was pretty, but so was the woman sitting on his lap. He fisted her hair once more, pulling at it roughly as he saw that she wanted to kiss him.
Fuck, no.
He wasn't a fan of touching beside the sexual approach, but kissing wasn't happening. Too many had put their dicks in there for Elio to even consider making-out with the dancer. Not every employee opened their legs for men, but she was one of those who did it countless times.
A heavy breath was mixing with the music from outside. "Have you forgotten what I've told you last time?" he seethed, furious that she still tried things that Elio had been clear about from the start.
No fucking kissing.
The girl stiffened, sucking in a breath. "What's wrong?" she asked, sounding unsure.
Elio shook his head, throwing the girl from his lap. It wasn't the day for fucking anyone, let alone her.
A knock on the door sounded, breaking the silence. Fabro came into the room. His eyes settled on the dancer, a smirk forming on his face. "We need to talk," he informed, however, he didn't leave.
"I'll be right there.”
Fabro chuckled, looking around. He came up to the armchair, leaning against the back.
"Go," he ordered the girl, harshly. The rudeness made her jump up. She hugged her body and quickly left without a spare glance in the twins' way.
Elio’s eyes moved to his brother, flashing in annoyance. Even though they were twins, they couldn’t be more different. Character-wise more than look-wise. While he kept his hair up most of the time, Fabro didn’t bother enough to do anything with his. Which usually meant that it was kept down and messy. That’s also how people could tell them apart. Also as far as their styles were concerned, Elio loved half-way elegant; dress shirts and pants, sometimes he switched things up mixing casual with formal. But just as with hair, clothes weren’t at the forefront of Fabro’s mind. He wore whatever was still somehow fresh and clean. Always sporty, unless they had some social gatherings to attend. It was weird since out of the two of them, it was Elio who had a more physical job, bound to get dirty from time to time. Yet he preferred to work on his look each day.
Not to mention how different their characters were. Fabro didn’t give a fuck about anything. He was focused on the Famiglia and earning money, then spending it all on parties. Elio tried to be more responsible, however, that was one of the only good things people could say. He kept to himself, letting out snarky comments from time to time; everything else was locked away.
A slow smile curved on Fabro’s lips, knowing that by getting rid of the dancer he got to his brother. Even if Elio didn’t plan on going further with the girl by actually fucking. Not this time.
“What the fuck is so important that it couldn’t wait until morning?” he murmured, pulling his pants back up. It was as much fun as he was going to get tonight. Most likely.
”What happened with Gordon? Did you get the money?”
Elio rolled his eyes. It was classic for Fabro to count on his twin screwing up the job. It never happened, but there was always hope in his eyes. ”Yes, I fucking got the money.”
”Then why the fuck were you late?”
”Why does that matter? I took my sweet time with the fucker. Unlike you, I enjoy more than just adding numbers and ordering people around,” he bit back.
They were never close as brothers should. Not even remotely as close as the Falcones were. From birth, they simply acknowledged each other’s existence but didn’t push it further to get to know one another, play together, or whatever else siblings were supposed to do. It just wasn’t on their list of things to do before they died. Blood didn't always make a family. It most certainly didn’t make them real brothers.
* * *
§ § §
* * *
After that, Elio spent his night dancing with girls and drinking with the guys. Till the early morning. Letting loose was exactly what he needed. However, he didn’t go back to the VIP room with any of the dancers to finish what he’d started. The girl clearly avoided him, turning around every time he came into her sight.
It was almost five when they decided to finally go home. Thankfully, Gastone wasn't in the club that night, probably being informed beforehand that the Capo was there, and until he had the money to pay he would avoid the man like the plague. That was another reason for Elio to keep on partying.
Surprisingly, he liked Flavio a lot. Him not showing up with his brother anywhere made people think that he was either retarded or just simply unbearable. Even though the Falcone brothers were always said to be close. However, rumors spread around quickly. So everyone knew that Flavio refused to be involved in the mafia business while their father was still ruling the Famiglia. He only changed his mind because Noah asked him to. He simply didn't give a fuck about underground operations. But then they started talking and even if a little cynical, Flavio was actually pretty decent company. Smart and composed.
The only thing making Elio crazy was that he was his mind was still venturing to the diner waitress. Analyzing her clothes, face and figure. Whatever he managed to remember about her appearance. He could even bet that his brother noticed his behavior but didn't want to mention anything in front of the Capo in case it was something the man shouldn't hear. After all, Elio had been doing business for Father before coming to the club. Even after confronting him, in his mind, there was a small chance that something actually went wrong along the way. But unless Hunter Gordon had a heart attack, due to all the beatings, there was nothing to worry about.
As he was leaving, Flavio showed up beside him. He, too, looked like he had him all figured out. Annoying but interesting at the same time. How can someone who barely saw him know more than Elio decided to share? Yet here he was staring at him, clearly waiting for something.
"What?"
Flavio shrugged. "Just wanted to make sure you're alright," he said.
Wait.
Hold back the fucking horses.
Since when were mafiosos considerate? Granted, Flavio was still learning, having not been initiated yet as he was seventeen. But even his brother became a Made Man way before that, so it came as a surprise when he decided to wait with making his brother a full-blown mafia man. This only gave others another reason to believe that the young one wasn't totally alright with their lifestyle.
"Why wouldn't it be?"
He shrugged again. "Just have a feeling you were elsewhere all night,” he paused. "But it's not my business so feel free to ignore me."
Yeah, right. As if he could ignore a Capo's brother. That would be a peak of disrespect.
He could just lie and say the first thing that came to his mind but there was something that made him think twice. Flavio wasn't asking for the same reason Fabro would - curiosity. He wanted to know because he wondered whether he could help. That also meant that he would be able to see through the bullshit.
It was so unnatural in their world that, basically, Elio had never encountered anyone like Flavio. Despite the know-it-all aura, he was still a decent human being. Not good because mafia didn't leave room for that. But not completely bad either.
"I just have a lot on my plate right now," Elio answered vaguely.
He didn't trust quickly. Or actually, he didn't trust anyone at that point. Even though the younger Falcone seemed genuine, he learned that not everything was what it seemed and it was always better to be safe than sorry.
Chapter Seven
A little breathlessly but she made it to work.
Waking up early in the morning was innate for Savannah. With time to spare, she could slowly work her way to waking up Aiden, preparing breakfast, taking her brother to preschool, and opening up the diner. That was the norm for her.
Not today.
The alarm didn't ring. Perhaps because she was so invested in what had happened with Elio and Hunter that she’d spent half a night tossing and turning in bed, wondering whether her boss was actually alright. Maybe it was just the ma
fioso's lie.
It could be. They didn't know each other. Savannah didn't know him to be certain that he wasn't a liar. And for goodness' sake, wasn't lying indispensable as far as his job was concerned?
She should have called Hunter to make sure he was still alive. Just like she intended but her anger towards the man was preventing her from making a clear decision. Until a few days ago, Hunter was one of those good and kind-hearted people that was so hard to come by. So why did he show his true colors now? Why did everyone hide their true self?
You'd think that with the way her childhood had looked like she was able to distinguish good and bad people. Well, it seemed that it wasn't the case after all.
All those questions had kept her up until the early morning when she'd finally fallen asleep and hadn't set the alarm. So it was Aiden who had to wake her up. An hour later than she was supposed to. The bright blue sky and the first rays of sunshine didn't decide to help the girl out either.
So at half-past six Savannah was running around the apartment like a headless chicken, trying to get herself ready to leave. But somehow even with only four-hundred square feet, the place seemed too big to find anything. For the very first time.
Quite frankly it was a miracle that she made it on time to work. Well, five minutes late to be exact. There was no one inside and everything looked like nothing had even happened the day before. Which was the most terrifying thing, making Savannah question whether it hadn’t all been a dream.
No blood, no broken furniture, or whatever else there was supposed to be after facing off with a member of the mafia. She didn't know much about the Famiglia and the way they worked but for sure they weren't the type to clean the place spotless after getting shit done.
The thought of Elio mopping the floor clean of bloodstains made her chuckle. Wouldn't it be a sight to see?
No, but she couldn't have imagined it all. Even her imagination had limits. So unless she was delusional, which she wasn't, Hunter had been visited by Elio. However, only when she got a text message ten minutes later from her boss, did she finally fully believe her own brain.
