The secret life of a Mob Princess

Chapter Seven

After thirty minutes in New York traffic they arrived at Frankie’s Deli, a sandwich shop on the corner of Harman Street, Brooklyn. The deli looked busy for the time of day, with several bodies lingering both inside and outside the door. 

“So are you coming in, or staying in the car?” Johnny said, snapping Isabella out of her daze. “Coming.” Just as she was going to open the door, it was opened for her by Johnny. “Oh, thanks.” Isabella mumbled as she climbed out and glanced at the crowd gathered outside. She noticed their attention had shifted to her and her cheeks began to burn crimson as she cast her eyes downward and clung onto Johnny. She heard a voice from the crowd “Is she your latest girl, Johnny?” followed by a few snickers and muttered words in response.

“She’s my cousin, Nicky. This is Bella, Joseph’s daughter.” Johnny responded whilst opening the door of the deli and  gesturing for Isabella to head inside. She noticed the laughter and comments stopped almost immediately and peered over her shoulder, their gaze was no longer on her but looking elsewhere, as if to avoid any further communication with her. She couldn’t understand why but was thankful. The boys here seemed different to back in Wechester County, they seemed a lot more direct and aggressive, it was intimidating. She was thankful she had Johnny to keep her safe.

Once inside, Johnny left Isabella’s side and greeted a friend behind the counter before heading through the back. “Wait here, Bella, I won’t be long. Joey, keep an eye on her.” Isabella peeked up from under her thick lashes to peer around the deli, unsure of what to do. It was unlike her to be so shy and timid, but this new environment was so alien to her that it knocked her for six. She realised besides the girl on the register, she was the only girl in here and that most eyes were on her again, some of the men at the tables muttering between theirselves whilst casting looks her way. 

Spotting a familiar face heading toward her, she let out a soft sigh of relief. George Rizzuti, Johnny’s best friend. “Bella, I didn’t recognise you. You look beautiful, Joey said you were here. Come, come. Do you want a drink?” He said whilst placing a hand on her back and ushering her toward a table with a few other men already sat there. “I’d like a cola, please.” Isabella said whilst taking a seat, offering an anxious smile to the faces as she sat down. “A cola, no problem. I’ll just get you one.” He said whilst heading to the counter.

Just as introductions had been made, there was a loud bang and a crash followed by shouting from somewhere out back of the deli. The main voice grew louder, it was high pitched  and hoarse, as if he had been screaming and pleading his case for a while. The door swung open, the short but overweight man the voice belonged was kicking and flailing his arms around in an attempt to fight back and push forward into the back as he was man handled and shoved repeatedly toward the exit by a man almost a foot taller and stronger than him. Isabella could only see the back of the aggressor pushing the screaming man to the exit, he had a tight fitting all black tracksuit on, showing off his athletic and toned body, a pair of white Air Force ones and a black baseball cap on. Isabella could see his muscles flexing as he forced the man out of the door and she gulped, her mouth going dry. The screaming man was thrown to the curb with a thud, like a trash bag and the man turned around for the first time. 

George had returned from the counter with her Coca Cola and was laughing about the scene that had just unfolded, but she didn’t even notice his return or the drink in front of her. It felt like time stopped, Isabella’s heart began to race faster than it ever has before as she stared at the man now walking toward their table.

 She couldn’t stop looking at him, her hungry eyes taking him in, trying to devour all of him. She’d never seen a guy like him back home. He couldn’t of been older than late twenties, he was in perfect shape and must’ve been around six foot four.  His tracksuit clung to his muscles in all the right places and she couldn’t help but blush. He had a naturally aggressive looking face, with thick and furrowed brows as if he had a permanent scowl, his face was made up with jagged bone structure and a five o’clock shadow. He had a scar on his left side of his mouth, going from above his top lip almost all the way down to his chin. He had even more tattoos on show than Johnny did, they covered his neck and hands and she couldn’t help but wonder where else he had them. His eyes were dark and cold and not once looked in Isabella’s direction whilst taking a seat at the table. She gulped and looked down at the table, aware of the blush rising up her body. 

No man had ever made her feel this way, not even Thomas. Who was he, and why was she feeling this way about such a brute she’s never even spoke to?

The tattooed hand reached forward and took the drink from directly in front of Isabella and popped the can of soda open, taking a long swig from it, as if it was his.