Lorenzo: A Mafia Boss Series

Chapter Six: Stalker

~Unknown POV~

I was sitting in my black Mercedes S500 4Matic sedan across from her apartment. Though I was fortunate to be in my own car instead of the state-issued car the District Attorney's office gave the high-profile attorneys, I hated that I wasn’t in my unassuming beat-up Tan 2005 Volvo, which was not under my name. A car like my Mercedes in a place like this would definitely get attention. It wasn’t smart, but I was never smart when it came to her. I had every reason to keep the f**k away from her. After what I did and managed to get away with thanks to my connections, it would be wise to stay away. Every life-preserving instinct told me I should take the win and go about my life with my lucrative law career and my socialite wife with our two and a half children. But here I was trying to take just a little look. My urges have changed since that night she brazenly escaped from my home in Northern New York State. Now all I had a taste for was her. I wondered if deep down she missed me. Missed our passionate nights together. I remembered the little moans she made when I entered her, and my d**k instantly hardened. I unzipped my pants. This was what I was reduced to. Sitting in my car, waiting for a glimpse of her coming home as I jack myself off. I looked at the time. It was already past 9 pm. Where the f**k was she? I hated that she did not have a car. It made following her from her job more difficult given she took public transportation. I wonder if that was the reason she did it, to hide from me. A smile tugged at the corner of my lips. ‘Of course she did.’

I then straightened up as I saw a fancy black and red sports car pull up right in front of her apartment building. I looked in silence and felt rage course through me when she came out of the car. It was bad enough that there were three little punks standing there, eye f*****g her, but here she was actually coming out of an expensive car. She seemed to have walked into her apartment building and my shoulders relaxed when the driver of the car did not get out to follow. That was short-lived though, as he came out looking like he owned the place. He seemed to have tucked something in the back of his pants before walking to the three punks.

“Who the f**k was this?” I muttered to myself. I quickly pulled out my laptop on the passenger seat and logged onto the NYPD official secure website. I knew I had access to the ANPR software from there. It allowed me unfettered access to run any car plates and registration in seconds and find out who the car was under. I urgently typed in the license plate number. I would have loved to find out that this car was stolen, so I could deploy the NYPD on the fucker. But from his confident, and the privileged way that this asshole walked, I knew that was not going to be the case. Within minutes a name popped up; ‘Lorenzo Andreas Bernardi- Giordano.’

My jaw clenched. I knew of the Bernardi’s and more notably Victor Bernardi. I wondered if this guy was one of them. If he was, I knew that it was best to keep the f**k out of his way and my way back to her just got a little bit more complicated. f**k, what am I saying? She wouldn’t be involved with a guy like that, could she? Did she know that he was part of the most notorious mafia family?…. Off the record, that was. As my temper simmered, I remembered some unmistakable truths and that was he wasn’t her type. She liked the older, intellectual, refined men. The one’s with integrity that could stimulate her mind and her body. That’s what attracted her to me all these years ago when I decided to teach a Law-and-Order class at Harvard. Beyond that, she had never brought a man home since our relationship ended. I suspected that though she would not admit it, she was more devastated by our separation than I was.

‘This was just an innocent ride, nothing more’, I told myself. I closed my tablet.

After a short time, the guy seemed to have said something to the thugs and they quickly left. He got back into his car and left also, which caused me to relax my shoulders. I don’t know how I would have taken it if he ended up going to her apartment.

I looked at the back of the passenger seat, and I pulled out the rolled-up dark navy Harvard sweatshirt she had given me. I don’t know what I was thinking, but tonight I was angsty, staying in the car wouldn’t do. I needed to get closer. I snake my arms in the sleeves of the sweatshirt and put it on over my tie and dress shirt. I was still in my suit, having come straight from work to here. I got out of the car. I pulled up my hoodie over my head and took a post across the street, directly from her apartment. Thank God those punks had left. There were several overgrown bushes that looked like they hadn’t been trimmed in years near some trash cans. This was my fortune, as I could stand there unbeknownst to anyone and, beyond that, the slight elevation the ground had given me, along with the distance from across the street, allowed a perfect view inside her third-floor apartment. It was unfortunate that the bedroom was located away from me but at least the living room was visible. All of a sudden, she walked out of a room with a towel to her hair, cotton shorts and a T-shirt. It appeared she had just taken a shower. My heart still. She looked so beautiful. All I could imagine was ripping off those shorts and burying myself deep inside her, getting her dirty again. I unzipped my pants and worked my d**k free. I started jacking off imagining I was f*****g my dirty girl.

“Aaaaaah,” I grunted as I gained speed.

I saw her sitting on the couch putting her feet on the coffee table with her smooth brown creamy skin. She parted them slightly, and I nearly came undone seeing her soft inner thighs that led to the oasis of her sweet hot pocket. I can’t explain it, but all I wanted to do was get off right here, in front of her apartment, showing her what she did to me, giving her my offering.

“Yeah, you like that, dirty girl,” I muttered as I was feeling the peak of my release imminent. “You like how daddy is f*****g you?” I breathed out, losing myself in euphoria of now, then, and forever. Finally, with a loud grunt that seemed to have startled some stray cats near the dumpster, I yelled out, “Aaaaaah Carmen!”

I saw her instantly sit up on the couch. My heart raced as multiple thoughts sped through my mind; ‘did she hear that?… I should go….. No way she could see me in this distance… right?’

As I thought about going back further in the bushes to avoid from being seen, everything in me wanted to see her beautiful clear hazel eyes fall on me one more time. I stood there with my heart in my throat and my offering to the ground. More thoughts went through my head; ‘Would she be happy to see me?…. Did she miss me?…. I could feel a little drizzle coming down. Would she invite me in to come out of the rain?’

I’ve been coming to see her ever since that night, but never has she seen me directly. She saw small tokens of my affection to prove that I was there and thinking about her. I left multiple single red roses at her front door, just as I had put them on her pillow when we were together. I knew her intimately all the way down to the frequency of her cycle. I even took care of that too by leaving her boxes of comfort food, warm soup and sanitary pads. I would send her the latest law journals and new releases of mystery books by her favorite authors. I did it all hoping she saw my devotion. But like clockwork, all my tokens of affection would end up in the dumpster in the front of her apartment. To show her disdain, she moved three times, but each time I found her. What did she think? Of course, I would find her.

I saw her slowly and shakily walk up to the large window. Her bottom lip was quivering, her tell that she was nervous. It didn’t take long before it appeared her eyes caught mine. The energy was electric. This was like all the romantic movies I saw where the leading man was at his love’s window, laying down his heart at her feet. As I had psyched myself into believing that this was indeed a romance story, she hastily pushed down the shades and within seconds the lights went off. This was not what I had expected. f**k I didn’t know what I should have expected. I stayed there still, emotionless, watching the now closed, dark window. It wasn’t until the rain started getting heavy that I realized I was drenched. I looked at my watch. It'd been two hours since she saw me. I walked back to my car feeling utterly defeated, a feeling that I hated feeling. I took off the wet sweatshirt and threw it at the windshield as I screamed out in frustration. I hated not being in control, not following my God-given animalistic urges. She was mine. Correction: SHE IS MINE!

I was then startled by the ringtone of my cell phone. I looked down and saw it was Marian. I sent it to voicemail. It was then that I saw several missed calls from her over the last few hours. She has been calling me all night. I clenched my jaw, knowing she was not Carmen and pretending she was, was not going to do tonight, not for what I wanted to do. The last time I crossed that line with her, I had scared her, and we ended up in marriage counseling. I wasn't going to go through that again. I needed a real fix with no limits. I put my GPS on to Roosevelt Avenue in Queens, the Red-Light District, where prostitution was rampant and no one would be looking for the lucky black girl that I would make my muse tonight.