TRAPPED IN A MAFIA MAZE

CHAPTER FOUR

In an exquisite hotel in New York City, while chaos was brewing in the Moretti family, there was a certain woman who wasn't feeling the pressure: Angelina Moretti.

She was the last wife of Don Moretti, and the youngest, who had married him simply to have access to the life of luxury which she wanted. She was still unaware of the death of her husband, seeing as it had happened only the previous night, and she was playing hard.

The slap slap sound of skin on skin could be heard from her hotel room, and it was as guessed: She was having s*x.

Her grunts and moans, like that of a wounded pitbull, had come by reason of the efforts of a male prostitute who she'd taken home from a nightclub the night prior. He had her in a ‘doggy’ position and was pulling at her bright, red hair as he worked his waist back and forth, driving his p***s harder and harder against her cervix, as he accompanied her to the point of climax.

“God, you're going to.. kill me..!” She exclaimed in excitement. Angelina was a chubby woman, and she'd been with different men all her life, so for this man to have brought her to this point, there was only one explanation: he was a professional.

The activity continued for the next few minutes and then, suddenly, the man jerked back and pulled out, holding himself tightly as he shot out the organic, creamy liquid from his p***s.

“Good God!” Angelina exclaimed as she collapsed onto the bed in exhaustion, “thank God this is a hotel.. Would've hated to have to clean up after the mess we just made..”

The man, a bald, muscular man, laughed sarcastically as he picked up his jeans to put them on:

“Don’t make me laugh, we both know that you never clean up, even at home..”

Angelina laughed but immediately caught herself as she thought of what he'd just said. Truly, she didn't clean up after herself because the house which Don Moretti had bought for her was filled with house helps who were at her beck and call, doing whatever she didn't want to do for herself - which was basically everything - but she hadn't told this man who she was; how had he known?

“How did you..? She started to say, very confused.

“How did I know?” He replied with a smile that soon disappeared maniacally, “Well let's just say I was paid a lot of money to know everything about you.. Especially your favorite clubs.. I was waiting for you to show up last night and you did.. I heard you like them muscular, so it was no surprise when you swallowed my advances like bait. What surprised me was how easy it all was, but then I remembered: you don't know s**t about the mafia, do you? You just married to get the money so you could say goodbye to hard work but still play as hard as you want.. Well, newsflash.. Playtime's over..”

And with these words, he pulled out a gun and pointed it at the already stunned Angelina.

“W-w-what is this? What're you doing?” She said, jittery.

“A job, bitch.. What does it look like? My crewmen already took out your husband last night, and now I'm supposed to take you out and complete the puzzle.. I was allowed to have some p***y first and distract you from the news of Don's death so you wouldn't suspect a thing, which I did..”

Angelina's eyes widened.

“Th-the Don is.. dead?” She couldn't believe this. Don Moretti had died and she hadn't known because she was too busy sleeping with a total stranger, and now she was going to die while being butt naked; the worst way to go.

“Yeah, he's dead.. And now it's your turn,” the man said with disgust, “any last words…?”

***

Life in the mafia moved really quickly; there was hardly any time to process events, celebrate wins or - in Bella's case - mourn losses. Just the previous night, her father had been killed, and already, she'd agreed to a marriage with Dante Romano - heir to the reins of a rival mafia family - in order for her family to receive the Romano Family's protection while they worked to get back on their feet. And now, she was back at her apartment to pick whatever things were valuable to her and return to the life she'd once run away from.

She was standing in her living room, with two travel bags already packed, taking one last look at the place she'd called home for five years. She'd already quit her job, and now she was on the verge of beginning a whole new life.. Or picking up on an old one, depending on how one looked at it.

Tito, her stepbrother, had accompanied her and although he tried to give her as much time as she needed to mentally accept the new reality, she could tell that he was impatient.

“Tito, I'm sorry for dilly-dallying.. It's just.. I vowed to myself that I wouldn't come back home, at least not to partake in anything regarding the mob.. But, look at me now, I'm prepping to throw myself into what could be a lifetime of it. It's just tough to take..”

Tito nodded his head and looked briefly at his watch before replying her:

“I understand you, Bella.. But you, of all people, should know that business with the Romanos is the last thing I would want to do on a normal day, under normal circumstances.. But there's nothing normal about the circumstances that face the Moretti family right now.. Father is dead, capos are backing out, I'm losing men by the minute because they're scared that those who feared us because of father would strike, and I've gone from being a predator to a potential prey. If there was any other way, you best believe I would have taken it. But there isn't. And besides it's not all bad.. You and Dante have something.. I never quite understood it, but it's there, and I believe he'll treat you right..”

Bella laughed softly. No one in her family had understood why she loved Dante, who she was 6 years older than. Even she didn't understand it, but the ways Dante made her feel; no other man, of any age, could compare to it..

“Yeah, I believe so, too..”

***

Back in Angelina Moretti's hotel room, she was pleading for her life:

“I'll give you whatever you want.. I'll pay you double of what you were paid to do this.. I'll fly you out of the country, hell, I'll fly you to Mars if you want.. I'll do anything, just don't kill me.. I'm still young, I'm not even 30, yet, please.. Don't do this, I beg you..”

“You're not 30 yet..?” The man asked, feigning compassion.

“Yes,” Angelina replied, falling for it and hoping he would spare her. But she was wrong.

“Well, that's too bad.. You won't make it to 30..”

And then he c****d the gun. As he did this, everything seemed to start moving in slow motion and Angelina saw three things at once:

The killer's finger moving towards the trigger to squeeze in on it,

The reflection of herself in a nearby mirror,

Through the mirror, the daw was opening and a man was coming through, with his own gun drawn and raised.

Angelina buried her head in her hands and began to scream. As she did, gunshots were heard. One, two.. Three..

After about ten seconds, she realized that she hadn't been hit. And then she looked up. The new fellow, dressed in a hoodie, joggers and sneakers, was looking down at her and the pseudo prostitute who'd initially wanted to kill her was on the floor.. Very dead.

“Get dressed,” the stranger who'd saved her said, “we have to go..”