Sold to the Mafia Boss

CHAPTER THREE

“What are you doing here?”

I looked up at Lorenzo’s face. For some reason, it’s gone back to the way it was when I first met him last night. Cold, calculating, and devoid of any emotion.

He was just staring blankly at the guy, who, by the way, looked like a melted popsicle with his bright clothes and matching bucket hat.

“Woah!” the guy jested and held both hands up. “Easy there. I was just joking.” He chuckled. “I really can’t joke with you, huh?”

“How’d you get in here?”

“Through the door?” He beamed. “It was opened by one of your men. I slipped together with her things—”

“Out.” It wasn’t loud or anything but it was firm enough that the guy immediately shrugged and backed away.

“Okay, if you say so. But I’m your cousin. Come on.”

“Out,” he repeated. Firmer this time. “Elio, you better be gone before I’m done counting.”

Elio’s eyes widened. “When did you start?”

“I said—”

Lorenzo wasn’t even done with his threats yet but Elio had already ran outside. I guess I should do the same too so I quietly slipped away and tiptoed into the living room.

I guess I wasn’t being subtle enough because as soon as I turned to glance at him, he was already staring straight at me like I’d offended him in some way.

Then he sighed and grabbed me by the wrist, leading me to the balcony outside.

My eyes immediately went wide. “No! No, no, no!” I used my entire weight to stop him from pulling me out but he barely budged.

“What are you on to this time?” He looked like he’s at the end of his wits.

“You’re not gonna throw me off, are you?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “No!”

I didn’t move. “Promise?”

He sighed. “Promise.”

“Pinky promise?”

He looked aghast. I didn’t blink. Instead, I held my pinky up. He just stared at it like it had somehow offended him before grabbing me by the waist and hoisting me up his shoulder.

I screamed my head off and tried to land punches and kicks. I guess he didn’t like it because he plopped me down on the balcony couch and leveled his face with mine.

“Will you cut it off? I’m not going to do anything to you.”

“You already did!”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?”

I paused, unable to think of anything. “Kidnapping?”

His eyes narrowed by a small fraction. “You went with me voluntarily.”

“This is debt bondage.”

His eyes narrowed even more. “It’d be debt bondage if I made you work. Which I didn’t.”

I just blinked. I’ve ran out of ideas. When he noticed that I sat still, he just sighed and propped himself up on the table in front of me, his face still level with mine.

“What do you know about me? You don’t have to lie. I’m not going to do anything to you or to your dad.”

I blinked some more. Do I trust him enough to do this? Is he gonna silence me forever if he knows that I know?

But surely, a lot of people know.

“I know you’re in a mob.”

He didn’t move for a second. “And?”

“And you’re the boss?” My eyes flickered toward the men in matching black suits in his penthouse and he looked back at them, too.

He fixed his eyes back on me. “And are you scared?”

I blinked again, studying his face. “Should I be?”

He stared at me intently, his hard features softening. “No. I don’t want you to be.”

I pursed my lips and nodded. “Then I won’t be.”

I don’t know why it shocked me when he smiled but it did.

I guess I didn’t take him for the smiling type. I imagined him more like the sneering at you while you bleed out on his floor type. After all, I did cry about that last night as I made up scenarios where he’s on top of me and not in a romantic way.

It’s always either a gun or a machete.

I don’t know why I pictured a machete. Does he look like he’d wield a machete?

“What are you thinking about?” Lorenzo’s voice pierced through my thoughts and I snapped out of it, shaking my head.

“I’m not thinking about you.”

He bit back a smile. “You’re thinking about me while I’m in front of you? How romantic.”

I coughed. If only he knew.

“Yeah. Romantic.”

He just shook his head at me and stood up. “Come on. I’ll show you to your room so you can rest before our flight later.”

I stopped in my tracks and stared at the back of his head with my eyes wide. “What flight later? No one told me about a flight later.”

Lorenzo just chuckled while shaking his head. “I don’t live here. I live in California.”

“But this is a nice penthouse. Don’t you want to stay in a penthouse like this forever?”

He looked around and then at me. “No. Besides, all of my business is in there.”

“Why? Because it’s closer to the gulf?”

He sneered. “Precisely.”

My eyes widened and my brain started generating all sorts of images. What kind of mobster business does he do there? Does he import goods? What kind of goods? Drugs? Guns? Humans?! Human body parts?!!

“Are you imagining me again?” he asked as he nudged me in the direction of my room and I shuddered visibly. He just laughed as he led me to my bed. “I’m flattered but no need to imagine when I’m standing right here, you know?”

I looked at him sideways. “I love how conceited you are. That’s a nice way to lift up your overly inflated sense of self worth.”

He frowned. “Were you always this mean?”

“You just realized?”

His mouth twitched. “Get some sleep, will you? You’re probably just grouchy because you’re sleepy.”

“Oh, I’m about to prove you wrong.”

⋆˚𖥔 ݁. ⋆ .✶ ݁˖ ⋆ ˙ ✧ ˖ ⋆

Lorenzo’s sleek black Range Rover screeched to a halt in front of a parked plane. One of his guards opened the door for me and as I stepped out, the coarse asphalt of the runway grounding at my feet.

I adjusted my sunglasses and looked at the entirety of the plane. I’m no stranger to flying in private jets at a whim. My family used to own one when I was younger. A glossy white Gulfstream G280 with thin gold streaks at each sides. It was even embossed with our family name.

But after my mother died, a year later, it was sold. It was not a problem, though. We still go to monthly excursions in first class or hire the services of a private jet. But after almost nine hours of economy yesterday, Lorenzo’s ivory Dassault Falcon 8X is looking like a piece of heaven.

Only, I’m stuck inside it for seven and a half hours with the devil himself.

“Let’s go?” Lorenzo said when I didn’t budge from where I was standing.

I inhaled a sharp breath and followed him in. His guards were following us closely, carrying all of our luggages. As soon as I stepped inside, the flight crew greeted with a polite smile, careful not to look me in the eye.

Normally, even in privately owned jets like this, they’d still have to look us in the eye as they greet. But I have a bit of a feeling that this was because of the guy in front of me.

Does he have some sort of hatred against people looking him in the eye or something? Weirdo.

I stepped inside the cabin after him and was awestruck to see the entirety of his plane’s interior. For a mob boss like him, I didn’t quite peg him as the kind to buy buttery ivory leather for the seats and have the walls and ceiling painted a creamy off-white.

This was so unlike all of the mafia movies I’ve watched. I guess I always pictured them with dark wood and black leather upholstery. That way it’s easier for them to clean all the blood out.

“What do you think?” Lorenzo asked me as soon as I sat down beside him, his eyes scanning my face carefully.

I took one last glance around before staring right back. “I can’t picture you in a plane like this.”

“So, you’re picturing me again?” The corner of his mouth twitched.

I frowned. “I meant, isn’t it hard to clean all of the blood off?”

His eyebrows shot up, but unlike before, he didn’t look like he was taken aback by my accusations. “What makes you think I’m going to kill someone on a plane?”

I shrugged, removing my sunglasses and placing it in between us. “Isn’t that what mafias do during the plane scenes? They kidnap someone, tie them up, and when all the talking doesn’t go well, they shoot them?”

“Uh-huh. So, then, what do you picture my plane would look like?”

“Dark. Like your soul.”

“That’s very Wednesday Addams of you.”

It was now my turn to be shocked. “You watch that?”

He laughed. “I don’t know what kind of archaic godfather thing you have in mind about the thing I do, but we do own televisions and a Netflix subscription, you know?”

I pursed my lips. He’s right. I guess I’ve been thinking too much about old movies and Peaky Blinders. It’s just hard to picture mafias in the modern age. I figured they’d all go extinct by now. After all, there are hardly any crimes that aren’t caught by cameras and the idea of a crime family is just… meh.

And then I remembered something. “Oh, right. There’s something I want to give you.”

“Hmm?”

I reached for the pocket in my bag and produced a thin piece of envelope. I set it down on the table and slid it closer to him.

He looked at it with mild interest. “What’s this?”

“Payment.”

His mild interest now looks like he’s about to burst out laughing. “Okay?”

He took the envelope and glanced inside it. He didn’t even bother masking it anymore. He just laughed in my face. “Can I ask why you even bothered putting $500 in an envelope?”

“We’re short on money, not envelopes.”

He cackled, the sound of his voice echoing through the walls of the cabin, making all of his guards sit rigidly. By the time he was done, he was clutching his stomach, the corners of his eyes tearing up.

“Ah, you’re cute.”

I wanna beat him up with the envelope.

“I know. Get used to it.”