Chapter 8
1139 Words
Ricci
Tortures of power and desire.
I sighed as I dropped the file back on the table, closing my eyes briefly.
It had been hard for me to concentrate throughout the day. I couldn't. And I just knew what the problem was.
Sophia's outrageous behavior kept ringing in my head, and I had the feeling that I had kept a ticking time bomb with me at home.
She dared to say she would be with one of the workers? I owned her, and she had no right to do so. It was an insult to my name and for the worker or any man whatsoever, I would slit his throat.
I wasn't aware that my secretary had been standing over me all the while.
“Mr Russo,” she called again, and I looked up.
“I'm leaving,” she said, her tone dripping with seduction.
I stared at her, furrowing my brows.
I had been with her last night, and for some reason, Sophia had found out. Not that I cared.
But not her. Not today.
“Okay. Make sure to send the documents to my email.” I said without sparing her another glance, but I could feel her confusion as she reluctantly left the office.
Just then, my phone made a buzzing sound.
“Hello,” I said once I picked up the call.
“Ricci, man, up for a drink tonight?” Leo's voice sounded. I raised a brow.
“What's up with this number?” I asked.
“That's not important, will you be free?”
“Yes. I planned on meeting you, there are some things I want to ask you.”
In an hour, I was seated opposite Leo in our usual drinking spot, the bar played solemn music, and everyone talked in hushed voices.
It was part of the reason I liked the bar.
“How fun is it being a married man, huh?” Leo teased immediately. I ignored him and took out a cigar, lit it, and began to draw from its intoxicating smoke.
All the while, Leo was grinning knowingly at me. We had been friends since we were kids, and he assisted me in business. All businesses.
He knew every secret I had; they were his, too. That's why I put up with his s**t.
“Sophia's car was bombed some days ago.” I blurted out the main reason I wanted to see him.
“Sophia…your wife?”
I nodded.
“Thought her name was Sara?” He raised a brow and took a sip of the brandy.
“Well, not anymore, that's not important,” I said, exhaling smoke, which curled up in a mist.
“So, who do you think did it, someone who might have thought of giving you a wedding gift?” He asked.
“Could be. Sophia has made a lot of powerful enemies, too. Exposed a lot of secrets.”
“Your wife is THAT Sophia Williams?” he seemed dazed. People in the underworld knew few reporters and journalists who had vowed to be a living hell to them. Sophia was one of them.
“Dude, are you insane? Do you want her to start digging up your secrets?”
He asked. And my lips curled up in a smile.
“I'm her owner, Leo; all I need to do is tighten the grip around her neck,” I said and took a long draw of the cigar.
Leo shook his head.
“There's no telling, could be yours, could be hers, could even be mutual.”
“Find out, that's why I'm asking you,” I said.
“Why do you care if she's in trouble anyway, hell, she deserves it.”
I pinned him with my gaze.
“How would it look in the public’s eye if my wife gets killed just after marriage?”
“I can't help it if she eventually gets killed, but I'll be the one to do so, with my own hands.”
I leaned back under Leo's watchful gaze, I noticed something in his eyes that I couldn't quite place. So I dismissed it, allowing the vibe of the cool evening to consume me.
I was a little tipsy and high when I came back home. It was not a good idea to drink with Leo, he'd always push beyond the limits.
“There you are.” I heard a voice that I had started becoming accustomed to. I heaved a sigh.
“What are you doing in my bedroom?” I asked without turning to look at her.
“We are married, though.” I heard her say. I ruffled my hair and turned to her. Her eyes caught mine immediately.
And I couldn't help noticing her, the way her hair was ruffled, the slight parting of her lips, the way the nightgown she wore hung loosely to every curve.
It didn't help me at all that she was too damn attractive.
I watched her as she walked close to me, moved past me, and sat on the bed.
“So, Mr Russo, have you found out who bombed your wife's car?” She asked, and I stared at her, hearing the words but only seeing the way her lips moved, so tempting, so…
I shut my eyes and ruffled my hair for the second time.
“Look, I'm a little drunk. I don't think I can talk now.”
I don't know if it was the effect of the drink, but I saw her smile slowly, almost as though she knew what I was thinking.
“What would you rather do, Ricci?” She said as she stood up and walked slowly towards me.
What the hell was she doing?
“Sophia,” I called once.
The possibility of taking her with me to bed began to seem promising.
Hell, I was drunk. But she was my wife. And I had every right to do whatever I wanted.
Slowly, my hands reached out to her waist, wrapping it completely, and I brought her closer.
“I told you to stay away from my sight, “ I mumbled to her, hearing her eyes never leave me.
“Oh no, what do we do then?” She whispered back, seductively.
I groaned.
“You do not know what you're doing,” I said; my groin had become hard, and it had started to throb.
She looked down at the full length of my erection, shielded by the trousers I had on.
I thought I heard her say men are still men after all, but I wasn't sure. Couldn't care.
She looked back at me and brought her tongue to her lower lip, sucking it in.
I couldn't bear it anymore.
I pulled her closer, leaning down, and my lips met hers.
- Writer
