Rare Love: A Mafia Love Story

"Marcus!" Antonio, Beatrice's father, heartily greeted his friend, who was more like a brother to him. Beatrice stood behind him, her ivory hair gently swaying in the breeze as her bright blue eyes latched onto Leon. She couldn't believe how he had changed. Due to whatever weak excuse her father made, she hadn't seen him last year, so it had been almost two years since they'd met in person. His once-long brown curls were cropped short, he'd gotten his ear pierced, and his overall demeanour was unhappy and cold; he barely smiled at her. It wasn't so long ago he'd run to her and thrown his arms around her. Beside him, his younger brother Bron smirked suspiciously at Bea. "It's good to see ya again Tony!" Marcus's voice boomed across the tarmac. "Dad I think they'd rather get back home rather than stand out here and talk," Leon suggested as luggage handlers stacked their suitcases into the back of a tinted Jeep. "The kids can go in a car and we'll take the other," Marcus pointed at the two jeeps. "Father, the luggage will take up the whole back seat," Bron glared. "Fine you can come with us," the two older men sauntered over to the car with Bron in tow, wanting to be part of whatever his father was. "Thank f**k he went with them!" Leon sighed as soon as he and Bea had closed the doors of the car. "He's still driving you crazy?" Bea giggled as she watched Leon run his hand down his face in frustration. "You have no idea." He looked her up and down, taking in the low-cut top and short skirt, "You look different," "So do you, mister, I'd never get an earring." Bea teased, but she couldn't help feeling that something had happened for her best friend to change so suddenly after all those years. "Bron convinced my dad that I hadn't gotten a piercing cause I'm scared of needles, so it had to happen," Leon admitted through gritted teeth. "And your hair?" "Dad said it was time to look like a man, not a girl." "I thought your hair was," Bea had to stop herself from saying cute, "fine." Bea knew Leons Dad pressured his sons, but it was never so visual. "Yeah, well, I don't mind having a change." He shrugged. "I don't know if I’ll ever get used to it," Bea spoke in a joking tone but underneath she was worried. To her, he was perfect how he was before. "You, will though," he assured her. It didn't take long before Bea realized they weren't going where they usually went, they were heading out of town. "Where're we going?" Leon gave Bea a slide glance before saying, "Didn't you know we're staying in the Hampton house this year?" "No," Bea didn't understand why Leon had suddenly gone silent. Something was wrong. The rest of the two-hour drive was long and silent as Bea's head ran with thoughts. Was someone sick? Had a business deal gone wrong? Were they going in hiding again? Finally, Leon pulled off down a lane and turned again up a white gravel road lined with thick green trees covering the property from prying eyes. The gravel road opened up to a circle, and behind it stood a mansion with beautiful white pillars and window frames, the bricks a rusty red colour. "It's beautiful," Bea wished she could have her own house like that. "It's the house I used to tell you about. This is where I grew up." Leon got out of the car and opened the passenger door for Bea to get out. Their fathers and Bron had stopped for food, so they hadn't arrived yet. "Come on," he said, opening the front door for Bea. While Beatrice's family was just as wealthy, the mansions in Italy were not the same, and Beatrice wanted more than anything to live somewhere else. Permanently, not just for the spring. Bea followed Leon as he purposefully strode through the house, downstairs to a bar. He poured himself a generous glass of amber liquid before downing it at once. "Leon, what's going on?" Bea had never known him to drink, and she knew that guilty look on his face well. "Just business, I'd rather not talk about it." He shrugged off his hoodie. "Leo!" Bea gasped as she took in his ink-covered skin. He never spoke about wanting a tattoo or even seemed interested, let alone seemingly covering himself in them. They crawled up his neck and ran down his arms to his wrists, and most likely covered his shoulders and chest. "What?" he looked around, his golden-brown eyes wide, looking for the unknown threat, "Your skin," Bea pointed to his arm, her jaw slack with the realisation that he was not the young man she thought she knew. She wondered what else had changed about him. "Yeah, I got a couple tats." He sat down on the leather couch and turned on the giant TV mounted on the stone wall, most likely to watch football. Beatrice stood staring at a person she did not recognise, her skin pricked, and a shiver ran down her spine as dread filled her chest, "What have they done," Leon finally looked up at her, "You can't say they haven't changed you either," he grumbled as he stared her up and down. His gaze was so intense she felt as though he could see through her clothes, as if she stood naked before him. "What do you mean?" She bit her lip, stressing about what he saw in her. "Your hair's perfect, grown out and long, what happened to the messy ponytails and buns?" he stood and playfully tugged on her hair, "You're wearing a skirt and crop top," he felt the soft material of the hem of her skirt between his fingers. "There's nothing wrong with caring about looking nice," Bea crossed her arms. "No, but you looked nice in your jeans and band t-shirts, now you look like a polished toy on a shelf." He sat back down, resting his feet on the coffee table. "Well, if you want to be all honest now, my father gave me no choice," Bea’s voice grew small. "What, like he dressed you?" Leo scoffed in disbelief. "No, he had a stylist dress me to look more mature," Bea rolled her eyes as she too sat down on the couch. "In fact, I was not allowed to pack my bags. The stylist did, I have no idea what's in them." Beatrice didn't notice because she was staring at her feet, but Leon's golden eyes flared with rage. "Sup bitches!" Bron yelled as he burst through the door half an hour later. "Bron," Marcus rolled his eyes at his overenthusiastic son, “why don't one of you show Beatrice to her room?" "I don't know which one she's meant to stay in," Bron shrugged, suddenly uninterested. "Don't worry about it, Dad, I’ll show her." Leon stood up and nodded towards the hallway. Beatrice followed him to the second floor of the house, "This is my room." He pointed to a door and then kept going. Two more doors down, they stopped, "And this is your room." He opened the door to reveal that her suitcases had already been dropped off in there. Bea walked into the room, while the floor, like much of the house, was hardwood, a beautiful bear skin rug was splayed by an electric fireplace and TV. To the other side of the room was an enormous king-size bed layered with silk sheets and fluffy blankets. "It's quite feminine," Bea was surprised. "Yeah, well, our father wants you to feel welcome here," Leon scratched his neck, his tell for when he's nervous. "Leo, why are you anxious?" Bea pried. "I'm not," "Liar." She stepped up to him, staring into his eyes, willing him to tell her what was going on. "How about we have a look at what that stylist packed?" Leon chuckled and walked over to the suitcases, hoping to find a fun distraction. His friend knew him too well. "Go on then," Beatrice wasn't that interested, but also wanted to know what she was expected to wear for the next six weeks. Leon grabbed the biggest suitcase first and thumped it onto the bed. "Let's see what's behind door one!" he chuckled as he unzipped it with a flourish of the wrist. Bea stood beside him and chuckled as she flipped it open, Leon picked up the first thing his hand landed on and lifted it to look at. "Oh my god!" Beatrice's face was aflame, beetroot red. A pair of very lacey and very see-through panties were hanging from Leon's hand. When he realised what it was, he threw them back down and closed the suitcase, stuttering for a moment before he choked out a sorry and hastily left the room. Beatrice ran to the bedroom door and locked it before going back to the suitcases and thoroughly went through them. everything was skimpy, Lacey or mini. Not a single piece of purely comfortable fabric could be found to even wear to bed. "What the f**k," Bea muttered as she stormed back down the hall, downstairs and followed the loud boastful sound of men talking to find her father in the bar room again. "Dad, what in the hell did the stylist pack?" She seethed as her father and Marcus just chuckled. "She packed clothes for a woman, not a little tomboy." He gave her a slightly sympathetic look before adding, "It's part of growing up." Then he waved his hand as if to dismiss her. "I need to go shopping," From the corner of her eye, Leon watched her from across the room. "For what?" Tony challenged, no, dared her to continue. "For actual pyjamas, not Lacey thongs and silk singlets!" Bea scowled. "No, you have pyjamas." Tony's gaze hardened and gave his daughter that look she had recently begun to be subject to. "Whatever," she stormed from the room, her father's temper pulsing through her veins. She locked herself in her room and resorted to wearing the longest nightie she could find. She reluctantly curled up in the soft comfort of the bed, feeling so small, her thoughts racing. Why did her dad want her to look like this? Why were they staying here instead of the penthouse? and what was the plan? Bea woke early in the morning to someone knocking on her door. She went to go answer it, but she remembered what she was wearing and didn't know who was knocking. The knocking stopped, but the doorknob rattled before it swung open. "Leo!" Bea hissed at him, but he shushed her and closed the door again before checking no one was watching. "I thought I cou-" he lost his train of thought as he noticed what Bea was wearing. He couldn't help looking down at her rounded breasts, which had swollen up a couple of sizes since he’d last seen her, and her perfect skin, her thick thighs, and hips. He swallowed and looked away before continuing, "I thought we could go shopping, leave before the others wake up." He finally choked out. "I don't have any money; Dad controls it all." Bea held back tears as hopelessness began to pull her down. "Good thing I have more than enough of my own," Leon's boyish smirk returned. "Okay, I'll just get dressed." Bea stood awkwardly. "I'll wait at the front for you," Leon let himself out of the room. Bea picked through her suitcase of casual clothes and found a pale pink slip dress which seemed to be the longest thing she could find and a cream-colored fur jacket to cover up a bit more. She glanced up and down the hall, listening for footsteps, making sure no one would notice her leaving. If her father found her before she left she'd be locked in her room. The stupid stylist had only packed high heels, so Bea tiptoed barefoot down the smooth wooden floors before slipping on the cream stilettos. "Lookin' fancy," Leon chuckled as Bea jumped at his voice, he'd stood beside the doorway so she couldn't see him when she first stepped out. She softly slapped him on the shoulder, "Not funny! You scared the s**t out of me!" she rolled her eyes again before asking, "What car are we taking?" "My car," he gestured to a white ford pick-up truck with an over-the-top grill and tinted windows. "Could you have picked anything more masculine?" Bea joked as she walked up to the passenger door before realizing she was going to struggle to get in. She was nowhere near as tall as Leon and was wearing heels on a gravel driveway. "Don't worry princess," Leon picked picked her up like a child and helped her in before closing the door for her too. "I'm not a princess," Bea muttered with a sulky glare. "Well you look like one," this time Leon was only half joking. "Shut up and drive you i***t," she couldn't help but feel a little happy at the thought of Leon complimenting her, even if he was teasing. They arrived at the mall half an hour later, it wasn't too busy which was a blessing to the both of them, fewer people meant less chances of meeting a foe. "So, where do we start?" Leon strolled through the car park with his hands in his pockets as he watched Bea with a protective eye. "Umm, I don't know, somewhere that has hoodies and sweatpants?" Bea wandered into the nearest store, which looked to fit the requirements. "I can't think when I feel you judging my decisions," Bea cringed as they walked out of the store with a few sets of comfortable clothes. "I'm not judging, it's just fascinating watching you...in general." He ended up relenting though, "I'm gonna go get something to eat, I'll meet you at the food court in an hour." He handed her a bank card before wandering off. Within that hour, Beatrice had picked out two pairs of runners, some ripped jeans and oversized t-shirts as well as a pair of real pyjamas and comfortable underwear. "Hey," She found him sitting at a table with a pizza, half eaten already. "Want some?" he offered and handed her a grape soda. "Thanks," She couldn't help the grin that spread across her lips as she picked up the soda. "What?" he looked at her mischievous face, her twinkling eyes, he'd never admit it, but he'd missed her so much. "You remembered." She held up the small glass bottle. "Of course I did," he chuckled as he ate another slice of the pepperoni pizza. After Bea had some pizza and finished her soda, Leon stood up, "Ready to head off again?" he asked. "If we have to, I suppose," Bea sighed and followed him out to the car park. "I wish I was born into a different family, a normal one," Bea stared at the road ahead. "I don't, otherwise I wouldn't have gotten to meet you." Leon knew, though, that Bea could've flourished and thrived in a different family, could've been a doctor or a teacher or maybe even a lawyer. She was smart, smarter than him, that's why their fathers didn't tell her much. "How dare you!" Tony roared as the two stepped through the front door. "Dad, please," Bea pleaded. "No! No pleases, no I'll do better next time. No nothing!" Tony seethed, red in the face. "Please, Tony," Leon interrupted, "I asked if she wanted go out with me, it wasn't her fault." Tony reined in his rage as he was in their house, not his and he couldn't go off at his friends son. "Yes, but she should know better." He eyed off the shopping bags. "You'll also be leaving those, I didn't hire a stylist for no reason." He pointed a finger and Leon dropped the bags. Bea glared down her father, willing him to tell her what he did hire that stylist for. "I hate you," She hissed through gritted teeth and ran up stairs to her bedroom once again. behind her she heard her father say something about the fragility of teenage girls. it didn't take long before Leon knocked on the door once again. "Go away," Bea's voice broke. "I saved a bag." Leon's deep, soothing voice barely whispered through the door. "It doesn't matter, if he sees me wearing it, he'll make me take it off." She opened the door. "Just keep it anyway," he shoved the bag beneath the bed. Bea sat down on the settee, holding back tears. "All I have wanted for months was to be here and now I wish I was just home alone like usual." She bit her quivering lower lip. "Come and hang out with me in my room, we can watch movies and eat popcorn, I'll even steal some icecream from the kitchen." he offered. Beatrice had always wondered what Leon's bedroom was like, "okay, just let me change into something more comfortable." "You remember where my bedroom is?" he checked. Bea nodded as she went through the pile of clothes spread across the end of her bed. She pulled out a pair of leggings and a stupidly low V-neck knitted sweater. she slid on her feet two doors down and slipped through the unlocked door. Leon stood beside his bed with no shirt on, just a pair of sweatpants. "Oh," she sighed, torn between feeling embarrassed and wanting to see more of him. He seemed less than unfazed as he strolled across the room and handed Bea the remote. "You can pick what we watch." "Do you still like horror?" Bea tried not to look at him as she spoke. If her eyes landed on his chest, she'd never be able to look away. "Of course, little Bea," He laughed as he sat down beside her. "Don't call me that," "Why not, you're still my little Bea, aren't you?" He chuckled. "No one has called me that for years. Since I was like ten." Bea cringed at the old nickname. It was Leon who had come up with it, and it quickly spread, at one point even her father was calling her little Bea. But, over the years, her father lost interest in her, like she was a puppy that had grown up and lost its cute charm. Bea remembered the day when she asked her father why he didn't call her his 'Little Bea' anymore, to which he replied, "Because you're not little anymore, it's time to grow up." "Please let me call you little Bea again," His voice softened as he stared at his childhood friend, although he wished she could be more. Over the last couple of years, he'd begun to notice things about her, her full lips, her widening hips the swell of her breasts, which continued to grow. He wanted so badly to have her, to hold her, he wanted to know what colour her perky n*****s were. And that dammed stylist’s choices weren't making anything easier. He had to adjust his pants as he cleared his throat and looked away from her, the lace of her white bra was peaking out of the plunging neckline of her top. "Have you seen the new Conjuring movie?" Bea's question brought Leon out of his thoughts. "No, let's watch that." his eyes never leaving her figure. She pressed the play button and turned to finally see Leon staring at her, she wasn't if she imagined the flame in his golden eyes. "Do you need something?" he smoothly spoke with a raised brow. "I was thinking of lying down." She looked up and down the couch. "Well then, rest your pretty head," Leon sat a cushion beside him for her to use. But when she lay down her legs seemed awkward and bent to fit the two-seater, "You look awkward, how about you sit the pillow in my lap?" He suggested. A knock came from the other side of Leons door, “Where’s Beatrice?” "What!" Leon yelled back at his father's voice. The door burst open to find both fathers, nostrils flared, "Beatrice, you know better than to be alone with a man." Tony's eyes narrowed at his rebellious daughter. "I just wanted to watch a movie with someone who isn't an ass." She stood to leave, but her father stopped her. "Then why is he shirtless?" His gaze flitted to Leon. "I wasn't aware it was a crime to be comfortable in your own home," Leon gave a lazy smirk to both the older men. "You will not speak to your elders like that, now move, we're moving this family meeting forward." Marcus hissed at his son. "And I suppose I should go sit in the time-out corner," Bea went to leave again, her father's firm hand wrapped around her arm. "No, you will be coming too." Bea sat in Marcus's study. It was a dimly lit place with no natural source of light and too much cigar smoke. The chair she sat in was a plush-stuffed chair, while the men sat in office chairs. All of them were seated at the intimate conference table. The silence sat heavy as they all directed their gaze towards Beatrice. "What the hell is going on?" The air caught in her throat as she spoke, her last word a mere whisper. "Beatrice, you need to shut up and listen. when we are done talking, you may ask questions," Tony spoke coldly to his daughter. He had lost all patience with her and had no sympathy left for a girl who wouldn't play by the rules. Bea nodded and waited for her father to continue, but it was Marcus who spoke next. "Your father and I have come to an agreement to join our families, you will marry Bron." Bea's jaw clenched as she turned her attention to Bron, who wore the devil's grin. She couldn't help but think, Why not Leon? Why did the world have to punish her like this? Why couldn't one single thing go in her favour for once? "You can't be serious," Bea glanced at Bron, bile rose in her throat as she imagined spending the rest of her life beneath his psychotic thumb. "I am, we are, and you will." Tony gave his daughter a definitive glare. "Dad, please don't do this to me. Mum wouldn't want this." Bea could feel the walls closing in on her, a claw scratching at her ribcage. "You have no right to pull the mum card, you will marry Bron, it's final." Hot salty tears streamed down Beas face as she closed her eyes, unable to look at her father, "When will I marry him, how long do I have?" "We were thinking a summer wedding would be agreeable for the guests," Bron licked his lips like the snake that he was. Bea struggled for air, her chest heaved but her lungs refused to work, she couldn't breathe. "Don't start," Tony rolled his eyes at his daughter while marcus and bron ignored her. Leon got out of his seat, "I'm taking her outside for air." He picked her up in his arms and left the room. Beas eyes remained squeezed shut, refusing to take in reality. "Bea, i need you to breath," She felt the fresh air on her face, she could smell the fresh cut grass. "In and out," She took in a deep shuddering breath and finally her eyes flew open, to see the wide blue sky and puffy cottonball clouds. "Good," She tilted her head to see Leo's golden irises watching her.