Chapter 1 D I S C L A I M E R

DISCLAIMER This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the written permission of a copyright owner. Copyright © 2023 by Jane Doe Writings ─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─ TRIGGER WARNING! The following book contains imagery that some readers may find distressing. (Violence, Gore, Sexual Content, Crude Language, Mention of Sexual Abuse) ─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─ AUTHOR'S NOTE Mafia Men IV - Vincenzo's Temptation can be read as a STANDALONE. But the first few chapters happen to coincide with Mancini's Bride (Mafia Men III) storyline. If you haven't read Mafia Men I, II, and III, then it's okay, You won't miss anything in this book, or lose any essential threads in this narrative. However, I'd be thrilled if you decided to explore my other books too, as they offer additional layers to our thrilling mafia universe. Thank you for choosing my story. Please, comment, and vote. I have worked really hard on these books, your appreciation means a lot to me! I love to read your thoughts and reviews. ─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─ UPDATES SCHEDULE: One Chapter Every Single Day (I might miss a day or two). Please don't force me to update more chapters because I simply can not do so. If you're one of those people who can't wait for the next chapter then you can wait for the competition of the book and then read it afterwards. Thank you, peace and love! ❤️ Please, respect the updating schedule because that's all I can manage with my busy, hectic life. I'm a medical student. Cries ─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─ Now, without any more delay, let's immerse ourselves in this story. X O X O J A N E D O E W R I T I N G S

Chapter 2 Chapter 1 - The Fateful Night

˜”°• Claire •°”˜ Night hours... Night hours mean different things to different people. Some use this time to sleep and rest, getting ready for the next day. For some, it's a peaceful time to think and find calmness. It can also be a time for parties and hanging out with friends. But for some people, night hours bring nothing but fear. It's a time of loneliness and isolation, where they feel cut off from the world. It can bring fear and anxiety, as darkness often conceals the unknown. So, what the night means depends on each person. It all depends on the experiences they've had during these dark hours. To me, the night hours were pure torment. My own private nightmare. I loathed it when the sun disappeared. I despised it when everything plunged into darkness. The darkness seemed to bring out all my fears. Walking down the street felt like a constant battle, always checking over my shoulder every few steps. Everything became infinitely more terrifying under the shroud of night. I'm terrified to shut my eyes; sleep eludes me. I can't recall the last time I drifted into sleep naturally. If, by some chance, I ever managed to sleep through the night, it was thanks to the drugs—a temporary escape, a high that drowned out the memories and the fear. So, here I was. I was in my art studio, escaping the torment of the late hours. A single lamp was softly lighting up my workspace. In front of me, there was a blank canvas, ready for me to paint on. My paint colors were there, shining in the low light. I dipped my brush into the cerulean blue paint, feeling its cool texture against my fingertips. As I pressed the bristles against the canvas, the world around me seemed to disappear, and it was just me and the blank surface, creating a beautiful bright blue morning sky. My brush strokes held intent, but they danced with a graceful ease that came from countless hours of dedication. The steady back-and-forth of the brush on the canvas was like a comforting song, a tune meant for my ears alone. I sensed a deep connection to the colors, almost as if they were a part of my very thoughts and feelings. My real life was nothing like my painting, it was filled with darkness, violence, and cruelty. I was a part of the Cosa Nostra. At night I painted the world I wanted to be a part of bright, sunny, and beautiful but as the sun rose, I became bait. A bait that lured the men in for the Cosa Nostra. Time passed, unnoticed and unimportant. The clock on the wall seemed to exist in another world, I was one with my art. I lost myself in the process, letting the colors and shapes guide my hand. Occasionally, I would step back, my eyes scrutinizing the evolving masterpiece before me. A touch of crimson here, a swirl of gold there—each adjustment was a step closer to perfection. The silence wrapped around me like a cocoon, allowing me to focus entirely on my creation. I jumped at the sudden thud that came from my living room. My head snapped back, breaking me out of my thoughts and the trance I was in. Goosebumps prickled my skin, and a shiver danced down my spine. I scanned the dimly lit studio, but I was met with nothing but shadows and silence. Shaking off my unease, I got to my feet. Then I heard another faint sound, a whisper. Fear engulfed me from head to toe. My cell phone was in my bedroom, even if someone was there, I couldn't call anyone for help. I looked down at myself and realized what I was wearing. A silk black negligee that was see-through from almost everywhere except for my breasts and my crotch. I cursed myself for not taking my robe with me to the art studio. A presence, unmistakably in my home, made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. My heart jumped into my throat as I walked out of the studio, looking around. I always keep all the lights turned on but when I stepped outside, I noticed how dark everything was. Someone had turned off all the lights. I bit my lower lip to keep in any sound that might escape my throat in fear. I slowly moved to the living room, my eyes darting all around. I eyed my bedroom door which was ajar. All I had to do was sprint to my room and lock it from the inside. My cell phone was in there, I'll be fine, I'll call Scott and he will be here. Without thinking too much, I sprinted towards my bedroom and slammed the door shut, locking it immediately. Feeling a bit safe in my room, I rested my head against the door, taking deep breaths in and out. And then I felt something... Or someone... I felt him behind me, and my whole body froze, it just shut down in panic. I didn't turn to face him or say a word, but I could sense his gaze fixed on me. My heartbeat quickened, and my hands trembled. Fear and dread battled within me. Was it him? He was here, wasn't he? He was here to finish what he started all those years ago. Mustering up courage, I slowly turned to confront the presence. I sucked in a sharp breath when I saw him. I don't think I have seen him before. I clenched the hem of my dress from the side, breathing in and out. Then my eyes fell on the face I had never seen before. I was speechless, not knowing what to say as I looked at him up and down. His eyes, sharp and penetrating, seemed to pierce through my being. His jawline was sharp, his shoulders broad, and his waist trim—traits that spoke of disciplined dedication. A light, perfectly groomed stubble added to his rugged appearance, and his tattoos were telling me another story. Immaculately combed black hair framed a face dominated by deep brown eyes. His nose was shaped with a hint of aristocracy. His clothing was a testament to refined taste—a tailored suit that accentuated his physique and an air of sophistication. No, he was too well-groomed to be a crook or a thug but he wasn't a gentleman either. He was some high-class criminal, not someone to be messed with... He was a Made Man and the aura that surrounded him unnerved me—dangerous and tempting—that gave me pause. It felt as if he carried with him the weight of a world—a world of crime and shadowy dealings. "Who are you?" I asked, my voice coming out stern opposing to what I was feeling inside. He raised an eyebrow and then his eyes travelled down the length of my body. I pursed my lips, I was used to being ogled at but somehow his intense gaze seemed to get under my skin. "Why are you here?!" I snapped. He casually slipped his hands into his pockets, then began a deliberate, backward stroll. His gaze never wavered from me, like a predator sizing up its prey. With fluid grace, he smoothly pulled a chair in front of him and seated himself, one leg effortlessly crossing over the other. He observed me as though I were a bothersome cockroach he intended to crush beneath the gleam of his polished shoe. "So, you're the whore he fucks after he's bored of making a fool out of innocent girls?" he spoke. Whore. Whore. Whore. Whore. Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to take a step toward him. I wasn't entirely sure if I was attempting to appear intimidating, but he remained utterly unfazed by my presence. It was as though I were a mere nuisance he could casually brush aside with the flick of his hand. I thought about what he was talking about. The threatening texts I had been receiving and the things they asked me to do. How they threatened me with the lives of my friends and Scott—the underboss of the Cosa Nostra—being shot was the warning. Scott had a lot of enemies but none of them would have asked me to seduce him into my bed. I narrowed my eyes, "You're the one who shot him, right? It was you." His expression remained indifferent, and he casually adjusted his jacket cuff, as if my very existence had the ability to tarnish the flawless state of his impeccably tailored suit. Just another self-absorbed gangster who believes the entire universe revolves around him... how delightful! "Did you honestly believe I was joking around with you? I gave you a fair warning, didn't I?" he remarked, his tone devoid of any emotion, much like his face. They had asked me to sleep with Scott and send them video proof of it multiple times, day and night. They were forcing me to break up his marriage but I wouldn't do that, so they shot him as a warning. What would he even get out of destroying a marriage? What purpose could it serve in our world? Was this man in love with Scott's wife? Was he in love with Allegra? "Even if I beg, he'd never touch me again let alone sleep with me. So why don't you crawl all the way back to your fancy-ass palace? Because whatever you're trying to achieve won't happen, your little plots won't work. He's wrapped around his wife's finger, like it or not, and frankly, I couldn't care less. Now, do us all a favor and get lost." Scott had brought me in, helped me build myself up, and got me this house. He had gone above and beyond to help me, and I couldn't even think of betraying his trust like this. By breaking up his marriage. A sinister look crossed his face, there was no other way to describe it, he looked completely devilish right now as if he was about to murder me. I can put up a good fight. I have trained with Scott Mancini, and trust me when I say, he doesn't care if you're a man or a woman, he'd break your jaw in training if you don't block it in time. "What is your name?" he asked, out of nowhere. With a subtle click of my tongue, I couldn't help but add a touch of sarcasm to my retort, "Oh, so you decided to pay me a surprise visit without even bothering to gather some intel about the person you plan on threatening?" He got off the chair, his hand moving over to the holster strapped underneath his jacket and he pulled out his gun, his words sliced through the air, laced with a cruel threat, "You? Insignificant. A waste of my time. A mere blip on my radar. Don't imagine for a second that I won't extract every detail from you, even if it means making you scream for it. Now, how about you quit the games and start talking, like a good little girl?" His condescending tone got on my nerves, I almost had half a mind to throw a punch at his perfectly symmetrical face but glancing at the gun in his hand, I changed my mind. "Now, what's your name?" he asked again, and I gave him a bitchy look that said that I had no plan of answering his questions. Without warning, he pulled the trigger, sending a gunshot echoing through the room as a wave of shock washed over me. "Aaah!" I let out a shriek, jumping away from my spot as he had aimed just above my head. My voice trembled with anger and fear as I yelled, "You fucking deranged lunatic! What the fuck is wrong with you?" My eyes remained fixed on the gaping hole he'd blasted into my once-intact wall. Without any warning, I heard another deafening gunshot, and this time, the bullet whizzed right between my legs. My eyes widened as I anxiously looked down, fearing I might have been hit. He had managed to fire a bullet that struck the wall behind me, passing through the narrow space between my legs. When I looked back at his face, he displayed not a hint of concern or remorse. It was as if firing a shot from between my thighs was the most ordinary thing for him. He was a total maniac. His utter indifference to the situation left me seething with anger. "What is your name?" Staring at the two holes in my bedroom wall, I turned back to him, "Fuck you!" In an instant, he closed the distance between us, his long strides eating up the space like a predator closing in on its prey. His sudden proximity sent shockwaves through my body, jolting me. I felt his strong, calloused hand encircle my neck, his fingers gripping me with a vice-like hold. With an almost effortless force, he dragged me toward the wall behind us. My back collided with it, the impact sending a sharp jolt of pain through my body. Pressed hard against the wall, I could feel his imposing presence enveloping me. It was as if there was no space left for me to breathe, and I struggled to catch my breath. His chest, broad and hard, pinned me against the cold surface. At that moment, I became extremely aware of his every detail—the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, the faint scent of cologne that clung to his skin, and the intensity in his eyes that bore into mine. It was like being trapped in the lair of a dangerous predator. My heart raced, pounding in my chest like a caged animal. I could hear the rush of blood in my ears, drowning out any other sound. The world seemed to narrow down to the space between us. And then, I felt the ice-cold steel of his gun pressing against the side of my head. His voice was a low, menacing growl, "You find this amusing?" I glared at him, my insides were quivering. He was muscular, more powerful obviously, if he tried to force me into something, I wouldn't be able to defend myself, "Get away from me!""What is your name?" he sneered on my face. "Cin—Cindy," my voice trembled but I answered because I just wanted him to get away from me, to stop towering over me like this, to stop holding me like this. His sneer deepened, oozing cruelty, as he lashed out with even more venom, "Cindy, is it? What a pathetic excuse for a name. Tell me, do you even have a real name, or should I just stick with 'Whore'?" I landed a solid punch into his stomach, but he didn't even flinch. My desperation led me to punch, scratch, and even attempt a knee to his groin, but he deftly blocked my every move. His eyes bore into mine as he leaned in closer, causing my breath to hitch, "Your real name." Gritting my teeth, I spat out, "Claire!" He pressed harder, "Claire what?" My hands trembling, I pushed against his chest, trying to create some distance, "Claire Parker, now get the hell away from me!" His voice oozed with menace as he continued, "Well, Ms. Parker, here's what's going to happen. You are going to be my little puppet, you are going to do exactly what I tell you to do. You are inviting Scott Mancini to your home, and I don't give a damn how you do it, but you will get him into your bed. I want his wife to witness what a despicable man he truly is." I scowled, my eyebrows furrowing as I pushed against him, my heart pounding in my throat, "Why are you doing this?""None of your damned business," he sneered. I pressed further, "And if I refuse to comply with your sick plan, what then?" With the cold steel of his gun, he brushed my hair away from my face, his tone chilling, "Then, the next bullet will find its home in Mancini's head..." My lips curled with disgust as he finally stepped back and let me go. He pulled out his cell phone and then showed me live footage. It was Allegra, working in the bookstore and then he showed me how he had a gun pointed at her head at all times. I fisted my hands as fear gripped my throat. I didn't really know Allegra but what I know is that she meant a lot to Scott and Scott meant a lot to me. "One wrong move and she dies... You know, I could just kill Mancini and get over with this but I think watching him suffer for the rest of his life would be more fun, don't you think?" I looked between his phone and his eyes a few times before I said, "Fine... I'll do it." I had to do what they wanted. I became a part of their plan, even though I didn't like it. I didn't know why they wanted to separate Scott and Allegra, but I didn't have a choice. I did it to save their lives. "Good girl, I knew you'd do it," his tone dripped with condescension. "If I carry out your plan, promise on your pathetic life that I'll never have to suffer the sight of your repulsive face again!" I spat, my voice filled with contempt. His face contorted with pride as he looked me up and down, "I'm Vincenzo fucking Capone. Even considering making whores like you my habit would be the lowest I could stoop." Meeting Vincenzo Capone that night felt like a painting that I couldn't erase from my memory. At that time, I hoped it would be the only time our lives crossed, but I couldn't have been more mistaken. Little did I know, it was just the beginning of a story I never wanted to be a part of.

Chapter 3 Chapter 2 - Wham-bam, thank you, Ma'am.

˜”°• Claire •°”˜ I sat in the salon chair as Lisa continued dying my hair pink. We talked non-stop throughout the whole process, it was the perfect form of therapy for me. The soft hum of hairdryers and the gentle jazz music playing in the background created a soothing atmosphere, but it was Lisa's company that put me at ease. "So what's the latest about Alessandra?" Lisa asked. Lisa and I have had this theory that Alessandra was cheating on her husband and I caught them this week red-handed... perks of staying awake at night. "Oh my God, Lisa! She's totally cheating!" Lisa's eyes widened with interest, "I knew it, that witch! She acts so perfectly, people who strive for perfection always have something to hide. She practically rules the social scene in this neighborhood and shames other women for even falling in love, that hypocrite." I laughed, "Well, it turns out that she's been sharing more than just her social charm." She grinned, "Whose the lucky guy? I meant unlucky because if Tony found out, he'd probably murder him.""It's none other than Giovanni, the dashing violinist from that fancy orchestra in town." Lisa's eyes sparkled, "Giovanni? Holy shit, that's why he's always performing at all those high-society events hosted by her." I nodded, "Exactly! And it gets even better. They've been rendezvousing at an old, hidden jazz club downtown, right under her husband's nose." Lisa clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh, "This is unreal! Cindy, where do you get all this gossip?" I winked. "Darling, the walls have ears, and I've got friends in the right places." She laughed, "You should start a gossip column. You'd have the entire neighborhood hooked." I nodded, "I intend to once I figure out how to make money with that.""All done!" she announced and I finally put down the magazine I had been reading and looked at my hair. A vibrant pink! I grinned, "I love it!" I left the salon with walked back to my home. The sun was shining brightly in the sky, so, now I could go home and finally fall asleep for a few hours. It had been a month since that night and everything settled down after that. Allegra and Scott were back together and more in love than ever. There was a rumor that Capo was thinking of extending a peace agreement with the Chicago Outfit. I rolled my eyes, my hate for that man had skyrocketed after that night when they basically kidnapped Allegra. Vincenzo Iceking Capone—future Capo of the Chicago Outfit. It was hate at first sight and now after this peace agreement, I'd probably have to face him in social gatherings. I swore I'd never see his impassive stupid face again. For incredibly selfish reasons, I didn't want this peace agreement to come through. When I was right outside my home, I saw Mrs. Johnson struggling to get her stuff inside her home. She was a frail elderly woman, a complete sweetheart. Her husband died two years ago and since then, she has lived alone. My heart hurt so much for this woman, so I made sure to take care of her every chance I got. "Hey, Mrs. Johnson!" I grinned as I walked up to her, "What's up?" Overwhelmed, she smiled at me, "Hello, Cindy, how are you, my dear? I love the new hair color. It's so you..." My grin widened, "Thank you. Here let me help with that," I said as I took the box of supplies and groceries from her. She hesitated, "Oh, no, Cindy, it's alright, I can manage." I took the box from her with ease. Mrs. Johnson gave me a grateful smile in return, "Oh, bless you, dear. This box was heavier than I expected." We entered her home and I asked her where she wanted me to put it. We took it to her kitchen and I then helped her unload the groceries, putting everything in the cabinet, in the refrigerator. "Do you want me to cook you something?" I asked, I have been on my own since I was sixteen, and it wasn't as fun as I thought it would be. Loneliness sometimes makes you go crazy. "Oh no, dear, it's alright. You don't have to." I shrugged, I had nothing to do. Scott had been busy with Allegra for the past few months and he hadn't called me in for work or anything. "I don't mind," I answered. I took out the ingredients for lentils shepherd's pie and creamy vegetable soup. I had cooked for her a few times before and due to her health conditions, she needed to follow a special diet with soft foods that weren't too heavy on her stomach. "You're too kind, Cindy," she said as she tried to help me with stuff. I handed her a basket of farm-fresh vegetables. With a bright smile on her face, she began to slice and dice them expertly, her knife gliding through the ingredients like a maestro. Watching her happy made me happy for some reason. Meanwhile, I focused on the lentils, simmering gently in a rich, savory broth. The aroma of simmering herbs and spices enveloped me. It took me an hour to prepare dinner for her, once I did, I made sure to put everything into the Tupperware so she could eat later whenever she wanted. "Bye, Mrs. Johnson!" I told her as I walked out of her home. "Bye, Cindy, you're a ray of sunshine!" I laughed as I turned to go over to my place, I locked the door behind me and kicked off my shoes. You're a ray of sunshine... Mrs. Johnson's words resounded in my head. I laughed to myself, looking for the thing that makes me feel like sunshine. My hands trembled slightly as I pulled out the tiny package full of sunshine. I pulled out the small mirror placed it on the coffee table and sat on the floor. A few moments later, I gazed at the small mirror which now had a white residue arranged in neat lines. My breathing quickened, and my eyes darted around the room. I didn't want to go down that road again but lately, the loneliness had been chewing me up from the inside. All these months, I had hoped that he'd divorce and everything would go back to the way it was. But Scott was never coming back to me. I was happy for him, happy that he had finally found his happiness, that he was finally with a woman he truly loves, and that he has all the right to live his life the way he wants but an annoying voice at the back of my head screamed at me. Why couldn't it be me? Although I already knew the answer. I could never be Allegra, she is literally an angel. The kind of girl any guy could fall for. The wife material. While I was just “wham-bam, thank you, Ma'am” With a shaky sigh, I picked up a rolled-up dollar bill, hesitated for a moment, and then leaned over the table. I steadied my trembling hand, my index finger gently nudging a line of cocaine into place. With a rolled-up dollar bill in hand, I bent over the mirror, my nose hovering just above the fine white powder. As I inhaled slowly, the first sensation that enveloped me was a sharp, chemical bitterness that seared my nostrils. It was a taste I knew all too well, one that simultaneously repulsed and enticed me. The world seemed to blur around me as a rush of euphoria surged through my veins. It was as if I had been transported to a different realm, a place where all my worries, fears, and pain vanished into the air. A warm, tingling sensation cascaded through my body, starting from the tips of my fingers and toes, and gradually enveloping me like a cozy blanket. My senses sharpened, and every sound, every touch, became intensified and electrifying. A surge of confidence and invincibility washed over me, erasing the self-doubt and insecurities that had plagued me moments earlier. My whole body started to sweat, I was suddenly so hot so I decided to take a shower. Beyoncé's Naughty Girl blasted through the speakers. My fingers brushed through my hair, gathering it in a loose bun atop my head. I began to peel away the layers of my day – first, the tights, followed by my T-shirt. I twirled and spun, my movements synchronized with the music's pulsating tempo. I went straight to the en-suite bathroom and stepped into the shower. I turned on the water, adjusted the temperature, and felt it wash over me. It was a nice, comforting feeling, like a warm hug. I closed my eyes and let the water run over me, making sure it didn't get to my freshly dyed hair. The steam started to fill the bathroom, and I sighed happily. I felt as if I could conquer the world, my heart racing in sync with my racing thoughts. I wrapped a towel around myself and walked back to the bedroom, I took out denim shorts with a crop top and threw them on the bed. I dropped the towel to my feet and wore a fresh pair of bra and underwear before slipping into my clothes. I grabbed my cell phone and saw a text from Allegra asking if I was alright or if I needed anything. I have never been happier! Sunshine! Allegra had been texting me every day since the day I apologized to her for what had happened. It was almost as if she felt pity for me. I'm sure Scott had told her everything there is to know about me. ╭───────────────╮ Mrs. Mancini: You know I'm here for you If you need anything. ╰───────────────╯ ╭───────────────╮ Me: Maybe some company? ╰───────────────╯ ╭───────────────╮ Mrs. Mancini: Scott is still healing, I can't leave him alone like this. Why don't you come over? ╰───────────────╯ ╭───────────────╮ Me: No, it's alright. I'm fine, don't worry about me. Maybe, some other time. ╰───────────────╯ I placed my cell phone on the dresser, its screen still faintly lit from the text messages. And then suddenly something caught my eye, a glimmer of black in the corner of my vision. I squinted, narrowing my eyes, and slowly rose onto my tiptoes for a closer look. There it was, a small, circular device, so perfectly hidden at the top of the dresser that it was almost invisible. A shiver of unease crawled down my spine, and I couldn't tear my gaze away from it. Carefully, I set aside my stuff, makeup and all cluttering the dresser onto the floor. My curiosity and unease growing, I climbed onto the dresser, my feet finding unstable footing on the smooth surface. Memories flooded my mind, like a dark tide sweeping over me. That night when Vincenzo Capone and his thugs, planted cameras throughout my room to capture compromising footage of me and Scott. I thought I had rid myself of all these cameras and bugs, but now, as my fingers grasped the small black device, I realized I had been wrong. The tiny camera wasn't alone; it was connected to a concealed wire. I tugged at it gently, then with more force until it finally came free, disconnecting from its source. I stared at it, my heart racing, my mind reeling with disbelief. Had this been here all along, during all those nights when I danced, worked, and changed in the privacy of my room? How long has someone been watching me, invading my most intimate moments, violating my privacy? The anger and fear welled up inside me as I clutched the hidden camera in my hand. The sense of vulnerability was overpowering, and I knew I had to confront the person responsible for this horrible invasion of my life. Vincenzo Capone? Or one of his men? Oh fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!!! Stepping off the dresser, I retrieved my cell phone and held it with seething anger. I knew what I had to do, and I was ready to face whoever was responsible for this blatant invasion of my privacy. I settled into my chair, my eyes locked onto the screen of my phone. My fingers moved deftly, tapping and swiping as I navigated the internet. Vincenzo Capone, the name echoed in my mind as I typed it into the search bar. I combed through search results, clicking on articles, images, and social media profiles, searching for any scrap of information that could lead me to him. Minutes turned into hours because of my condition but slowly I learned details about his daily routines, his favorite haunts, and his associates. I needed to find out where he was, confront him, and demand answers. The seconds ticked away as my research continued. I would march over to his location and beat the shit out of the pervert who had been watching me. I finally stumbled upon the location that Vincenzo Capone frequented every night. Of course, he owns a nightclub. Every corrupted high-class mobster does. The only problem was, that it was in Chicago Illinois. Without hesitation, I booked a flight to Illinois, two hours and thirty-five minutes, I can do that. It's not like I have anything better to do. ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ I checked into a hotel and then got dressed for the night. It must be difficult to meet the future Capo of the Outfit, I had to come up with a plan, maybe, flirt with one of his soldiers until they slip up about how to meet the bastard. Because I'm not leaving without knowing who my fucking stalker is. I changed into a pink dress to match my hair, wore high heels, and wore a push-up bra that showed off my best asset. I ordered an Uber and waited outside my hotel as it came to pick me up. Once the Uber stopped outside the nightclub, I swallowed, there was a long line to get inside. Back in New York, all the bouncers knew me, I never had to wait in line. I paid the driver and got out of the car, adjusting my dress as I again pulled out the package from my handbag. I scooped a little amount of it on my nail and snorted it up my nose. I confidently walked to the entrance of the club. I noticed a few fancy-looking men getting out of their cars. Bingo! I ran up to them in my high heels, and waved, "Hello, boys," I said, flashing a charming smile. Pretty privilege... I have always had it. Men were attracted to my body and sometimes I didn't mind the benefits that came with it. All three of them looked me up and down, practically undressing me with their eyes before the tallest one smirked. Yay! I got him! I did a little happy dance in my head before turning my attention back to them. "Are you guys headed for the club?" I asked, intertwining my arms before myself, pushing up my boobs. "Da..." Russians, they were Russians. "Tebe nuzhna pomoshch', krasavitsa?" I was too stupid to understand what he had said to me, so, I shrugged, "I don't understand..." The muscular one smiled, "Do you need help getting in?" I beamed up at them, batting my eyelashes, "Yes, please..." He smiled, "Come on, pink princess." I intertwined my arm with the tall one and he led me inside through the VIP entrance bypassing the throng of people waiting in line and straight into the VIP floor. Call it luck but I think I was already closer to Vincenzo Capone. The men were nicer than I thought, they didn't expect anything in return. They just wanted me to accompany them to a meeting, they offered to buy me drinks and hang out with me afterward. Little did they know, I had a plan of going to powder my nose and then disappearing on them. They took me to a private room and settled inside, The waiter served us drinks, and my eyes scanned the area to see if he was there. The muscular one kept his big hand on the small of my back and all I did in return was pass them sweet smiles. Men with their guns drawn entered, and took their places, spreading all around the room. A little while later, their boss made his entrance. My breath caught in my throat as I realized it was none other than Vincenzo Capone... Incredible luck, to say the least, Cindy. "Gentlemen," his deep voice seemed to echo in my mind, and then slowly his light brown eyes fell on me and then I saw it, a flicker of something. He recognized me. He settled onto the couch in front of us, casually crossing one leg over the other, just as he had in my bedroom. Did he always exude this air of owning the entire world? That arrogant ice king. The men around me started talking in Russian. I looked around the room cluelessly as Vincenzo answered them fluently in their language. I grabbed the drink and took a sip, I had to get him alone. Don't know how but I have to. Their conversation suddenly got a little intense. I slowly placed the drink back and the muscular guy pulled me to his side, dropping his heavy arm around my shoulder. I glanced at the man uneasily and then turned back, I was met with a chilling gaze, the kind that could freeze an ocean. The man's big fingers dipped lower into my neckline and that's when I tried to pull away. "Stay, Shlyukha," he snapped at me. I furrowed my eyebrows, what does that even mean? The way he said it, it seemed like a nice word, maybe, he was complimenting me. Mr. Kingpin Cool glared at the man, scorching and intense. I bit down on my lower lip, trying to hold my composure. I put a polite smile on my face, "Excuse me, I have to go powder my nose," I said, it's a line I learned from high-class women of the Cosa nostra. It used to make me laugh all the time, I was so glad that I finally got the chance to use it. The muscular man finally let me go but as I stood up, I felt a harsh impact on my ass. The idiot had slapped my ass, I had the urge to punch him right in the nose but I controlled it. Smiling and exiting the room. Now all I had to do was to find out why Vincenzo Capone or his men had been spying on me. I waited outside the room for half an hour until I saw those Russian men exiting the room. I hid behind a giant pillar, watching as they strode downstairs. Before I could step out from behind the pillar, two huge gorilla-like men grabbed both of my upper arms, placed a hand over my face, and started dragging me somewhere. I struggled hard, attempting to let out a scream, but my efforts were in vain, muffled by the large hand. I resorted to kicking at their calves, but it was like trying to move mountains. They opened a door and threw me inside, closing it behind me. I fell on all fours and then I heard his cold voice. "Who sent you, Nikolai or Scott?" he asked, standing tall before his fancy-ass desk. I got to my feet pulled out the spy camera from between my breasts and marched up to him, tossing it on his face, "No one sent me!" The tiny camera hit his face and he didn't even flinch, he just stared at it as it dropped onto the floor and then back at my face, raising his perfect eyebrow. I crossed my arms over my chest, "Are you spying on me?" He stared at me, looking like he couldn't believe what I said, his face showing a mix of surprise and a hint of amusement. "Spying on you? You?" The tone in which he said “you” insinuated that I was the world's most insignificant person alive. I pointed at the camera, "I found this camera in my bedroom, and I'm pretty sure I don't need to remind you that you were the person who put these cameras in my house, even in my bedroom! So it's either you or one of your men. Who had been watching me sleep, eat, undress, dress up, and everything else too! I could've taken this straight to Capo and stirred up another war, but I didn't want innocent people to suffer. So, here I am. Tell me, have you been recording my thrilling life? You pervert!" He casually slipped his hands into his pockets and let out a deep breath, "A war over you or your nudes?" He scoffed with a hint of dry amusement, "Let's not overestimate your importance here. That camera was nothing more than a useless piece of junk left behind because, well, you weren't exactly winning any awards in the brain department. It doesn't work anymore. Don't flatter yourself into thinking you're some hot commodity in my life. Nobody in the Chicago Outfit is losing sleep over you, and even if they were, I highly doubt they'd resort to spying for a glimpse of your..." his eyes fell on my breasts, and they narrowed from the edges, "...assets. What's your price, anyway? Three dollars and ninety-nine cents?" I let out a sarcastic laugh, "You want to know my price?" Saying that, I raised my fist and aimed for his face but he clasped my fist into his hand in mid-air. He pulled me closer by my fist and I fell on his chest, my body pressed against his hot and hard one. My heart suddenly froze before beating in an unusual manner. His expression turned dark and intense, it burned into my skin. "The only reason you're walking out of here in one piece is because you're a woman—and not a particularly bright one," he sneered, leaning in close, his lips mere inches from mine. "If it were anyone else, they'd be leaving in a box..." he paused, leaning so close that our lips almost touched, "Chopped up into countless pieces," he added before shoving me backward roughly. I stumbled, glaring at him with widened eyes, unable to hold back my anger, "You're an asshole!" I hissed, berating myself for ever thinking this was a good idea to come here by myself like this. "Jimmy!" he called and a man entered his office immediately, "Make sure this woman gets back to New York." The man named Jimmy came to grab me but I shoved him aside, "I can manage just fine on my own!""I want her out of my territory," he ordered. "Fine by me! Your territory is as appealing as a garbage dump!" I shot back. Humiliation singed into my skin, I clenched my fist before stomping out of his office all the while his men followed me and they didn't stop following me until I was back in New York. But when the effects of my last hit started to wear off, I realized what I had done. The fleeting sense of invincibility was gone replaced with a crushing sense of shame. What have I done?

Chapter 4 Chapter 3 - Stalker

˜”°• Vincenzo •°”˜ I was seated in the corner of the dimly lit Italian restaurant, the soft glow of candles casting elongated shadows across the room. The distant murmur of hushed conversations and the clinking of cutlery filled the air, but I was here for one reason and one reason alone – to meet Don Carlo on my father's orders. He wanted me to get into the business with this man. A man whose word is as good as nothing. The rim of the crystal tumbler felt cool beneath my fingertips as I watched, my patience waning. The Capone family had been patient enough, and it was time to show these fuckers that soon enough Vincenzo Capone will dominate in this city. In the last few months, the Outfit has had problems not only with the Cosa Nostra but also with Don Carlos who was trying to get into our gambling business. Peace with Cosa Nostra could be more beneficial for us but my father was a stubborn man, holding onto the grudges of his father. The ornate entrance swung open, and Don Carlo strolled in, flanked by his men. His mere presence commanded respect, but respect was something I had no intention of showing. We exchanged nods, and he took his seat before me. Don Carlo made himself comfortable, the scent of cigar smoke lingering in the air. The men poured him a glass of aged bourbon, and he shot me a grin. "Vincenzo Capone," Carlo drawled, "you finally accepted my dinner invitation. I was beginning to think you were too afraid to meet." I squared my shoulders, matching his icy stare, "I'm not afraid of anything, Carlo. I hear your family's been expanding its interests." Carlo's smile widened, a calculated glint in his eyes. "Indeed, we've been exploring new avenues. But it's a big city, plenty of room for everyone, wouldn't you agree?" I remained composed but couldn't mask my skepticism, "Room for everyone until someone's ambitions exceed their boundaries." Carlo's tone turned appeasing, "Vincenzo, let's not be adversaries. Imagine the power and wealth we could amass if we joined forces. Your father wants the same thing, together we could have more men than Costello. We'd have power, wealth, and numbers." A flicker of annoyance crossed my face, "Power, wealth, and what else? The satisfaction of seeing my family's hard-earned turf taken over by yours?" He leaned in, his tone softer but laced with menace, "You're a pragmatist, boy. Surely you see the wisdom in cooperation.""I won't stand for your invasions into my territory." Carlo chuckled darkly, swirling his drink, "Ah, territory. The cause of so much bloodshed and conflict. You see, I believe in expansion. Progress." My voice grew sharper, "Progress at my family's expense? You've taken over our speakeasies, extorted our businesses—" He interrupted with a mocking laugh, "Business is business, Vincenzo. We are not friends yet, but if we join hands tonight tomorrow will be a different story. And about your speakeasies? Survival of the fittest." My temper flared, and I leaned in, fists clenched. "Survival? This isn't the jungle, Carlo. It's the city, my city, and I won't let you destroy everything I've built." Carlo's smile faded into a sneer, he slammed his fist onto the table, "Built? Or inherited, like the spoiled brat you are?""It's not mere inheritance when I've rightfully earned it, Carlo. When I've toiled for it." He chuckled, swirling the glass of aged bourbon in his hand. "Let's not pretend, Vincenzo. We're both businessmen in our own way. Why not put our heads together and expand our operations?" My fingers twitched slightly, my temper barely contained beneath the surface of my composed demeanor, "I've heard this song before. Your family's greed knows no bounds." His smug grin persisted as he countered, "Greed, or ambition? You can't deny the charm of greater wealth, my friend." A surge of irritation coursed through me, but I maintained my composure. "This city isn't big enough for both our ambitions. And your recent actions suggest you've forgotten who holds the real power here." A few days ago, they had tried to target my brother Adriano Capone and before that, they tried to kidnap Aunt Alessia but failed miserably both times. Carlo leaned forward, placing his glass on the table, "This alliance can be more potent than brute force. Imagine the riches we could amass together." My voice remained unwavering, "My father had rebuilt this empire on strength and loyalty to his family and his men. I won't let your family's greed jeopardize that. I have no intention of joining hands with a scum." A sly smile played on Carlo's lips as he raised his glass as if toasting to our standoff, "Be careful not to bite off more than you can chew." I couldn't help but smirk at Carlo's audacity, "More than I can chew? Trust me, there's a whole lot I can chew, and it's far beyond your fucking imagination. Because in the end, it's the men on the streets that matter." His fingers tightened around the bourbon glass, betraying his frustration, "You underestimate my family. We've weathered storms that would sink lesser men." I leaned closer, my voice low and dangerously calm. "You know what your problem is, Carlo? You've always thought too small. You see this city as your playground, but I see it as my kingdom. And kings don't share their kingdoms." Carlo's eyes blazed with anger. "You think you're untouchable, don't you? The mighty Vincenzo Capone, who can do no wrong." I chuckled softly, "I've never claimed to be a saint. But I do have principles. Loyalty, honor, and a sense of respect for the way things work in this world." He leaned in too, his voice dripping with disdain, "Your principles will be your downfall, Capone. You're too rigid, too unwilling to adapt." I straightened up, my gaze unwavering. "Adaptation without principles is just chaos. I'll take my chances with principles." Carlo's face reddened with anger, and he slammed his glass on the table, "You're a fool, Capone. A stubborn, arrogant fool." I met his rage with icy calmness, "Better a fool with principles than a snake in the grass." That was the spark that ignited the powder keg. He slammed his palms on the table, causing the bourbon glass to wobble, before he pushed the glass off the table, "You arrogant bastard! You think you can insult me in my own city?""I'll do more than insult you, Carlo. I'll take everything from you," my eyes locked onto him, "Because in this city, there can be only one reigning family. The time for negotiations is over." My hand slid beneath the table, fingers wrapping around the hidden weapon. My gaze stayed fixed on Don Carlo, and I could see the shock filling his eyes. He knew. In an instant, the balance of power tilted toward the Capone family. A quiet shot echoed through the room, and Don Carlo's eyes widened in surprise as he fell back in his seat, a red stain spreading on his shirt. Simultaneously, my men sprang into action, neutralizing Carlo's soldiers. With that singular gunshot, the message resounded throughout the room: the Capone family now reigned supreme over the city. ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ "What have you done?" my father's thunderous voice followed me as I went home. "What you should have done long ago, taking out the scum from Chicago, cleaning my territory," I answered as I took my place on the living room couch, crossing one leg over the other. "I sent you there on my behalf to make peace with Carlo, not kill him, Vincenzo. We're already at war with Cosa Nostra, I can not afford another war!""I'd rather make peace with Costello than ever join hands with that scum Carlo and his idiotic sons.""There will be no peace between the Outfit and the Famiglia not as long as I am alive!" Dad snapped. Aunt Alessia flinched, she had been awfully quiet since she lost her. It was as if she had forgotten to talk. Even if it wasn't for her, I still wanted this peace with Cosa Nostra more than ever. I faced Dad, "Carlo Gotti is dead. I killed him, they will retaliate, they won't settle for peace even if you begged them to. Nikolai Costello, on the other hand, is willing to consider peace right now. You have to act swiftly, Dad, before everything we've built crumbles." In his frustration, Dad's fist collided with the wall, leaving a bloody mess. He ran his trembling hand through his hair, his eyes filled with rage and desperation, "You planned this, didn't you? You never intended to align with Carlo; your visit was an execution mission." I just stared at my father having a complete mental breakdown, "You finally caught on? Costello is more powerful, he is true to his word. You need to stop fighting your father's war, stop living in the past, and holding onto your father's grudges. Aunt Alessia has already paid the price, and all she wants now is to see her daughter. You're denying her that happiness." He raised his voice, refusing to accept the truth, "Don't you fucking dare shift the blame onto me. Nikolai is cut from the same cloth as his father. We'll see when he stabs us in the back." Straightening my suit, I flicked a speck of lint away, rising from my chair and buttoning my jacket, "It's the only choice you have, Dad, take it or leave it. Either you agree, or we'll face the combined forces of Don Carlo and Nikolai Costello. You can't wage two wars simultaneously." That night my father called Nikolai and set up a meeting to negotiate the terms of the peace agreement. While the external war with La Cosa Nostra appeared to have subsided, a secret battle raged within me. It was a conflict tearing me apart from the inside, consuming me like a relentless fire. Now as I sat alone in my study, I opened my laptop and began my routine surveillance. It was something I had never expected to do – spying on a woman. Yet, somebody had made a careless mistake by not checking the most obvious places. I, Vincenzo Fucking Capone, was stalking a woman...

Chapter 5 Chapter 4 - A Chaotic Sequence

˜”°• Claire •°”˜ I paused at the entrance of the community center, my heart racing. It was a familiar place, but the anxiety still gripped me every time I walked through those doors. The room carried a distinctive blend of scents – freshly brewed coffee mixed with the clean smell of disinfectant. Whispers and soft conversations floated through the air as people gathered, clutching their cups of coffee like they were a lifeline. In the middle of the room, a circle of chairs awaited, each one different from the next – some old, wooden, and worn, while others offered soft cushions. A low table at the center held pamphlets, recovery books, and a box for anonymous contributions. Stepping further inside, my eyes scanned the diverse group already seated. There were those with wrinkles etched deep into their faces, evidence of the battles they had fought for years. Then, there were younger folks, their expressions a mix of hope and apprehension. I swallowed hard, mustering a smile as I found an empty chair. The room's occupants turned their gaze toward me, some returning the smile. The tension in my chest began to ease as I settled in, knowing that, in this room, I wasn't alone in my struggle. One by one everyone got up to share their struggles and their stories. I listened, watched, and even shed a tear or two. I was a very emotional person and sometimes it messes me up. "Hello, would you like to introduce yourself and share something with us?" The woman, who served as the chairperson, asked, her warm and understanding eyes locked onto mine. I felt my throat tighten, a mix of anxiety and relief flooding through me. I awkwardly waved at the diverse group of faces that turned their attention towards me. "Hi, everyone," I began, my voice trembling ever so slightly, "I'm Cindy, and I guess I'm here because... well, I'm an addict, but it's not like I'm a hardcore one." My voice steadied as I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. "I mean, I have my sober moments, but lately, it's been a struggle. I've been feeling this pull, this urge to go down that dark path again, and I really don't want to." The chairperson's warm smile and the supportive nods from the others eased some of my tension. "Welcome, Cindy," she said softly, her tone filled with genuine compassion. "We're genuinely proud of you for taking this step. Remember, we're all here to help each other. Is there anything specific you'd like to share with the group? Anything that's been triggering these urges?" I could feel my hands growing clammy as I grappled with my emotions. My fingers instinctively intertwined in my lap. I paused, pursing my lips as I struggled to put my feelings into words. "Well," I finally began, "just last week, I did something really stupid, something I deeply regret, and it was all because I was under the influence." A collective understanding seemed to ripple through the room as sympathetic nods and knowing glances met my confession. "It's just... when I'm on drugs, I make these terrible decisions, things I shouldn't be doing." I looked around before dropping my gaze into my clammy hands, "I ended up traveling to another state just because I thought someone was watching me, and turns out they weren't," I let out an embarrassed laugh as I recalled the memory from his office, "I had never felt more embarrassed in my entire life." Someone chuckled, a woman who must be in her mid-thirties, "Happens to the best of us, sweetie. I went to my ex's house at three in the morning and serenaded him with a song." I laughed, releasing some of the tension in my shoulder, "Years ago, someone took me out of a very bad situation, and when I say bad, I mean—really, really horrible. I was messed up, I was forced to take drugs most of the time and I was in a very dark place. That person not only took me out of that situation but he also helped me recover in more than one way." I closed my eyes as they welled up with tears. It was hard, but I needed to talk about it. This was better. I had to get it off my chest or else I'd go crazy. "Go on..." the chairperson softly said. "He took me to rehab, he pushed me to get better, he bought me a house, and even got me a job. He had been my support system forever. And I... I got addicted to him, instead of the drugs, him." I blinked and a tear rolled down my cheek, I hastily wiped it off before facing everyone with a smile, "And I recently lost him—he's not dead," I laughed, "But I lost him. He is actually now happily married to the love of his life. And don't get me wrong, I'm happy for him. His wife is a sweetheart, the most adorable woman I have ever met and I can see why he fell for her," I shrugged, "Anyone would." I gave my head a shake and continued, "After his marriage, nothing's the same anymore. He has changed, obviously, and I respect that. He has every right to live his life the way he wants but he has no idea what he means to me and how him being away from me is taking its toll on me. He is all I have known since the day I met him. I really don't know how to live without him, I know I shouldn't depend on anyone like that but I can't help it. His absence has left a void, and when I feel that emptiness, I'm tempted to turn to drugs." I sighed, my vulnerability on full display as I confessed, "I don't want to burden him with my problems anymore. I want to learn how to live independently. But it's been a struggle, and sometimes, it feels like the only way to fill that void is with drugs. I don't want to... but it's overwhelming, and I don't know how to stop it.""Thank you for sharing, Cindy. We're here to support each other on this journey, and your honesty is a crucial step. It's completely natural to feel lost when such a significant source of support changes. You're not alone in this struggle, and we'll work together to find healthier ways to cope with these emotions. Remember, taking this step to seek help is a sign of strength, and we're here for you every step of the way. We can assign you a sponsor if that's what you want if you are comfortable with it." I furrowed my eyebrows, "A sponsor?""It's someone you can talk to when you're feeling the urge to give up. It has helped a lot of people. A sponsor can act as your new support system." I nodded, "Yes, I'd like that." ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ When I got home from my meeting, I saw Allegra Mancini sitting on the stoop stairs of my home. She was using her cell phone when I walked up to her. "Allegra?" I called out. She looked up, her eyes sparkling with delight. Quickly standing up, she came over and enveloped me in a warm hug, to which I responded immediately. Maybe, I needed a hug. "What are you doing here?" She gave me a sheepish smile, "I'm sorry for showing up like this unannounced but after your text last week, I couldn't stop thinking about you. I felt bad for not coming over when you reached out for company. So, here I am." I nodded, remembering how Scott told me that Allegra always thought about others first, "And Scott's okay with this?" She furrowed her brow, puzzled. "Why wouldn't he be?" I had a hunch that Scott might not appreciate me hanging out with his gentle and kind-hearted wife. He saw me as a mess, and Allegra was far too precious for him to associate with someone like me. "I mean, did he give you his blessing to visit me?" Allegra arched an eyebrow, her expression determined. "Blessing? In our household, the only one who needs permission for anything is Scott." I chuckled at the thought. It was hard to picture Scott taking orders from anyone but himself. "Really?""Absolutely," she affirmed with a smile, then held up a basket. "And I brought snacks." Grinning, I unlocked the door, and we both entered. We kicked off our heels and made ourselves at home. "I really like your new hair, it's giving off a cotton candy vibe," she commented. I couldn't help but run my fingers through the ends of my hair, "Thanks." She leaned in, her eyes bright with curiosity, "Do you think I should dye my hair too?" I couldn't hold back a laugh, "Hmm, probably not, your husband might kill me for it." She sat on the living room couch, folding her legs underneath herself, "For dying my hair?" I gave my head a shake, slumping beside her as we both dug into her snack basket, "No, he might think I might be a bad influence on you." I scoffed, "I'm not a child and you're not a bad influence. I really like you." I raised an eyebrow, casting her a sideway glance, "Even after what happened?" I referred to her catching me on top of her husband. She offered a warm smile, "Especially after what happened. You know, there aren't many women out there I can trust around my husband, ones who won't throw themselves at him without regard for the fact that he's married." A pang of guilt pricked at my conscience. I had feelings for her husband, and they had lingered for quite some time, even before Allegra entered the picture. But now, it was time to learn how to let go. "Where is your husband anyway?""Oh, he is at a meeting.""What meeting?" She turned to me with a grin, "Promise not to say a word to anyone because what I am about to tell you is the big secret that most people don't know yet. Only the inner circle knows." I perked up, "Now I'm intrigued, what is it? And I swear on my life that I won't tell anyone." She nodded, lowering her voice, "He's at a meeting right now with Salvatore and Vincenzo Capone." My heart skipped a beat at the mention of his name. Our last encounter played through my mind for the second time today. "And?" Her smile widened, "And they might be renegotiating the terms of their peace agreement. I can't believe that it's finally going to be peace between the Cosa Nostra and the Outfit. It's a really big step for us and the Outfit." I managed to give her a hesitant smile in return, "Yeah, that's... that's amazing." I don't think I can stand looking at that bastard's face again after how he humiliated me last time. I changed the topic completely after that. Not talking about the Outfit at all or its arrogant, cold boss. Allegra and I decided to have a cozy movie night at my place. We gathered our favorite snacks - popcorn, candy, and even some chocolate-covered strawberries because why not? Allegra and I couldn't help but giggle as we settled on the couch, our bowls of popcorn nestled in our laps. The chick flick marathon was in full swing. Allegra leaned over to me, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "So, Cindy, do you have a favorite chick flick?" I grinned, ready to divulge my guilty pleasures. "Oh, where do I start? I'm a sucker for the classics. 'Pretty Woman,' 'Dirty Dancing,' and 'The Notebook' are my top picks. How about you?" Allegra chuckled, "I can't resist a good rom-com like 'Notting Hill' or 'When Harry Met Sally.' And, of course, 'The Devil Wears Prada' for some fashion inspiration after my husband had told me a hundred times that he hates my fashion sense and that I dress like a nun." I nodded, laughing. "Yes, 'The Devil Wears Prada' is fantastic! Meryl Streep is iconic in that role. But you can't forget the heart-wrenching ones like 'A Walk to Remember' or 'Titanic.' They always bring on the tears." Allegra nodded, "Oh, 'A Walk to Remember' gets me every time. And 'Titanic'—such a classic tragedy." As the movie played on, we couldn't help but comment on the characters' choices, their fashion, and, of course, the romantic moments. It felt like we were a part of our very own chick flick. Allegra chuckled at my comment about the heroine stupidly sending the hero away at night instead of fucking his brains out, "I think you secretly dream of being the star of one of these movies." I playfully gasped, placing a hand over my heart. "You've figured me out! I've always wanted my life to be a romantic comedy.""So, when's your big meet-cute moment with the handsome stranger happening?" I pretended to think, but suddenly that night flashed before my eyes when Vincenzo Capone shot bullets from between my legs, I shook the thought away, "Hmm, maybe it'll happen when I'm buying a latte at the local coffee shop, and he accidentally spills his coffee all over me." She burst into laughter, "Classic rom-com move right there. And then you'll both reach for the same napkin, your eyes will meet, and bam – true love!" I joined in the laughter, "Exactly! And then, we'll have a grand adventure filled with quirky side characters and misadventures. You can be a side character in my story. You can play my annoying best friend." She raised an eyebrow, and flung a throw pillow at me, "And what about your grand romantic gesture? Every good chick flick needs one." I grinned, "Oh, I'll confess my love in front of a crowd, probably at a big family gathering or a wedding. It'll be so heartfelt that everyone will applaud and cry." Later that night, we just lounged in my living room until we heard excessive ringing of the doorbell. Startled we both got our feet and I pushed Allegra behind me as I opened the door only to find Scott, standing outside. "Ray told me you were here," he voiced the second I opened the door and his eyes fell on Allegra. He made no pretense of small talk or pleasantries as he moved me aside, his sole focus on reaching his wife. Hastily, he enveloped her in his arms. A whispered exchange passed between them, and then it happened—the kind of kiss that spoke volumes. It was passionate, filled with longing, as if they had been apart for an eternity. I couldn't help but look away, a twinge of envy gnawing at my heart. Not envy for their love, but for the depth of emotion they shared. It was a stark contrast to the emptiness that had settled into my life. He had never kissed me like this, heck, he had never kissed anyone like he is kissing his wife. They belonged with one another... "You know I can't sleep without you," I heard him say as I stared down at my feet, not wanting to ruin their moment, "Come on, let's go home." Allegra nodded, smiling at both of us, "Let me just go get my stuff." Once Scott and I were left alone in the hallway, he finally gave me attention, "Hey, stranger, how are things?" I forced a brave smile, "Everything is good, amazing!" He put his hands in his pockets leaning against the wall, "You know if you still need anything, I'm here. Allegra doesn't mind, she knows everything." I gave my head a shake, "Scott, I'm more than fine. Don't you worry about me? You know if I needed anything, I wouldn't hesitate to call, I'm shameless like that," I grinned. He laughed and the next second, Allegra came back out and joined her husband. We said our goodbyes before they left, I closed the door, locked it, and then leaned against it for a few minutes. The loneliness that had become my constant companion settled in once more, a heavy weight on my shoulders. I knew what I had to do. I went over back into the living room. My hand shook as it hovered over a drawer. Inside, a box that held the answer to my struggles. It was like a trap I could fall into. I closed my eyes, torn between my darkness and a tiny bit of hope. The room felt tense like it understood my struggle. The tiny baggie held my temporary salvation. My fingers trembled slightly as I prepared the substance, knowing full well what I was doing. But the craving was too strong, the need to escape too compelling to resist. And the next thing I knew, I ended up doing what I promised myself I wouldn't do anymore. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves, and then the world around me started to shift. Colors became more vibrant, and my senses seemed to heighten. There was a surreal quality to everything, as if I had stepped into a dream. A warm wave of euphoria washed over me, erasing my worries and fears. It felt like I was floating on a cloud, weightless and free. For a moment, the pain of reality was gone, replaced by an overwhelming sense of pleasure. The moments that followed blurred into a hazy memory, a chaotic sequence of actions that played out like a distant dream. I fumbled to dress myself, the fabric slipping through my intoxicated fingers. My makeup became a messy, colorful canvas, the mirror reflecting a face distorted by the drug coursing through my veins. Leaving the house, I stumbled into an Uber, barely able to tell him my destination. The Cosa Nostra's nightclub, its neon lights dancing in erratic patterns that matched the chaos in my mind. Inside, I surrendered to the pounding music, letting it guide my movements as I danced recklessly, lost in the pulsating rhythm. In the dim, smoky haze, I met a nice stranger, he was probably not nice, he was probably a criminal but I didn't care. Drinks flowed like water, numbing my senses further. I followed him to his place, consumed by a desperate need for distraction. Ended up on his bed, riding him like a cowgirl, my moans and screams echoing through the room. Morning brought a harsh awakening. I lay disheveled on the floor, my stomach churning with regret. Nausea overtook me, and I puked violently, the remnants of my poor decisions spilling out. Clumsily, I wore my dress, my movements sluggish and graceless. I fled the dirty stranger's home, escaping before he could wake up. Now back in my own place, I sat in a daze, staring at the invitation card before me. It was an invitation to a party, an event that symbolized the beginning of a new era, a fragile peace between two powerful factions—The Cosa Nostra and The Chicago Outfit. Fuck my life!

Chapter 6 Chapter 5 - Checkmate

˜”°• Claire •°”˜ The sun bathed my small neighborhood as I walked on the sidewalks to get to the annual charity bake sale, I had baskets of freshly baked cupcakes, doughnuts, and cookies in my hands. I specifically wore a white dress adorned with bright yellow sunflowers, perfectly matching my yellow stilettoes. I passed by Mrs. Johnson watering her plants or vegetables, I don't have much information about gardening, "Hi, Mrs. Johnson! How's your garden doing?" Mrs. Johnson waved back, "Oh, the cucumbers are growing like crazy! And thank you again for the meals that you cooked for me.""Don't sweat it!" I shouted back. I reached the community park and set up my booth, covered in pastel-colored decorations that I made by myself. I arranged my cupcakes topped with swirls of neon frosting, doughnuts in every color of the rainbow, and cookies shaped like playful emojis over my booth. The aroma of freshly baked sweets wafted through the air. A little girl approached the table, her eyes wide with wonder at the assortment of cookies and cupcakes. I bent down to her level, "Hi, sweetie! Would you like a cookie or a cupcake?" The little girl hesitated but eventually pointed to a chocolate chip cookie. I handed it to her with a wink, "Great choice, sweetie! Enjoy." The so-called peace event was tonight. I had no plans of attending it because I don't know if I can face Vincenzo Capone after my embarrassing episode fueled by “sunshine”. Also, my every encounter with that man had been insulting from his side so I had no wish to socialize with the Outfit members. As the day went on, my booth raised a good amount of money for charity, and I beamed with pride. I'd rather socialize with my sweet and normal neighbors than I'd ever hang out with the likes of Chicago Outfit. After the bake sale, they held a little after-party with all the neighbors. A really shy little boy was hesitant to perform his magic trick, so I cheered him on. Instant boost of confidence. And then at the end of the evening, I helped all the elderly people carry their bags to their cars. As I was saying my goodbyes, my phone rang. I pulled it out and saw Scott's name flashing across the screen. "To what do I owe this pleasure, Your Majesty?" I asked, packing up my things. "I have a job for you," came his deep voice. I sighed, "Finally, I thought you forgot about me." He let out a laugh, "Coming to the event tonight?""Nope.""Yeah, well, now you have to. François De La Fontaine is attending. I want you to seduce him to a bedroom upstairs and get him there completely alone." I squeezed my eyes shut, and here I was trying to avoid that event as much as I could. I nodded, "Fine, do you have anything on him, anything that'd help in knowing what he likes?""I mailed you his profile. Just a tip, his favorite color is red.""You got it, boss." I went back to my place, and read his profile. What he liked, what he disliked. From what I gathered about him, he liked being praised and he liked bold women in skimpy outfits. He was a boob guy, so deep neck it is, and he was a bit handsy with the woman he had been with, okay, not a bit but a lot handsy. I could work with that. I laid out my outfit for the night, it wasn't about the party any more it was about my job. I really needed a car, I didn't want to ask Scott for it. I wanted to earn it. I took a shower and did my hair first before moving to my make-up. Once I was all set, I changed into a red lace underwear set ditching the bra because of the neckline of the dress. It was a deep, plunging neckline showing off my cleavage perfectly. To complete the ensemble, I chose a pair of elegant red heels. With everything in place, I reached out to Alessandro, asking him to come and pick me up. He came after fifteen minutes or so, picked me up and we drove together to the event. I knew he wouldn't have a plus one, he is a bit of a loner (by choice) because the attention he gets from women is insane. He whistled when I sat in the passenger seat, "Porca miseria, Cindy, sei davvero deliziosa." (Holy shit, Cindy, you look delicious) I batted my eyelashes, a playful grin on my lips, "Grazie, l'ho messo per te." (Thanks, I put it on for you.) "Io scommetto che l'hai fatto," he replied with a sly grin, his Italian accent adding an extra layer of charm to his words. (I bet you did.) I leaned in closer, my voice dripping with playfulness, "Well, you know me, Alessandro. I can't resist dressing up for a handsome man." He chuckled, "Jesus woman, you trying to kill me?" Alessandro and I had this peculiar habit of flirting endlessly, even when it was entirely unnecessary. It had become our playful little game. But deep down, we knew it was all in good fun, never meant to be taken seriously. You see, Alessandro had this naturally flirtatious personality, the kind that could make anyone blush with a well-timed compliment or a teasing remark. And he used it liberally, not just with me but with every woman he encountered. It was all light-hearted banter, and he never meant half of the charming things he said. As we reached the venue, Alessandro handed Valet the keys and offered me his arm which I happily accepted, intertwining our arms as we walked inside. I took a deep breath as so many pairs of eyes turned to us, Alessandro leaned closer and whispered in my ear, "I'm sure you can handle the rest?" I nodded at him, "Yeah..." As he left my side, my eyes immediately looked for my target. I was confident that once I found him I'd have him wrapped around my pinky finger in an hour. The event was posh and high-class, there were poker tables, chess matches, and even performers to keep the Made Men entertained. This red gown was my statement piece. The deep neckline plunged daringly, revealing just enough to tease without giving the full taste. With every step I took, the gown's side slit exposed my toned thigh, and the whole leg, I worked out a lot, my body was my temple. The fabric clung to my curves, accentuating my narrow waist and wide hips, and the rich red color complemented my pink hair flawlessly. My locks cascaded down my back in waves of pink, drawing eyes and whispers from everyone around me. The choker at my throat added a regal touch to my ensemble. I walked confidently into a room full of people, and my red heels clicked confidently against the marble floor. I grabbed a glass of champagne from the passing waiter and took a sip. Instead of François, my eyes met with Allegra who gestured for me to come over to their table. She was sitting with Capo's and Enforcer's wife, I gracefully made my way to them and almost curtsied to Evangeline. "Did you just curtsied?" she asked, her plump lips parted. I let out a laugh, a room full of men and their attention didn't unnerve me but somehow Evangeline did, "I really don't know how to act around you." She laughed too, "Just like you treat Allegra, it's fine, just a woman, babe." In the midst of it all, my eyes finally fell on François, "Excuse me, ladies, I have a job to do," saying that, I moved in his direction to observe him before I made a move. The atmosphere around me was electric, filled with voices and laughter, yet I suddenly felt an intensity in the air, like someone's eyes were fixated on me. A chill tingled down my spine. I glanced around but the sea of elegantly dressed guests made it impossible to pinpoint the source of this unsettling feeling. It wasn't unusual for people to stare; after all, my appearance always drew attention. However, this was different—more focused, more piercing. And then my eyes met his dark ones, and it hit me. Vincenzo Capone. He was watching me, his eyes fixed on me, burning with an intensity I couldn't ignore. I sucked in a sharp breath. He stood with his father, brothers, Capo, and the rest of the Cosa Nostra men but his gaze was focused on me as he took a sip of that ember-colored whiskey. I frowned at him before shifting my attention back to François, who was now talking to another woman. I needed to figure out how to get to him. I waited as the woman clung to him, socializing with people, laughing, acting as nonchalant as I could just to be in François's frame. François then moved over to Capo and the Outfit's idiots. Their conversation lasted for quite a while before transitioning to games of poker and chess. Scott walked over to me, "What's the progress?" I pursed my lips, "Nothing, I'm trying to look for an opening." He nodded, "He convinced Capone into a game of chess with him. Impress him." A smirk formed over my lips, Scott had taught me how to play chess and Mr. Scott Mancini could beat anyone, even the world champion and I was his student. François De La Fontaine sat across from Vincenzo, a chessboard between them. Vincenzo Capone looked so smug and had a faint confident smirk on his face as he made his next move. He had François in a tight spot, and suddenly the urge to wipe off that annoying over-confident smirk off his face crept up. I was going to hit two birds with one stone. I'm going to trap François in my charm while shoving his victory into Capone's face. Their men watched the intense match, I strolled over to them, my dress hugging my curves in all the right places. I stood beside François, my fingers lightly grazing his shoulder as I peered at the chessboard. "Mind if I watch, boys?" I purred, my voice dripping with sweetness. Both of their attention snapped to me. Vincenzo's glare seemed to burn into my skin while François looked at me as if I was a piece of cake he badly wanted to devour. I leaned in close to François, my lips brushing his ear as I whispered, "You could use some help," and that made him chuckle. Vincenzo's eyes flickered briefly in annoyance, but he turned his focus back on the game. I smiled and took a seat beside François, holding onto his arm acting as if he wasn't there I would have dropped, François gave me a lecherous smile. When I focused on the game, Vincenzo was in a winning position and he was probably planning to move his queen to a square to threaten François's king. With a sly smile on my face, I whispered into François's ear, "Move your pawn forward by one square." And François did, just as he did, Capone realized he didn't have his winning move anymore. He couldn't block François King with his queen. For a mere second in between, he glared at me. One of his men or maybe it was his brother—because both of them had similarities—shouted annoyedly, "Fucking shit, Vin." Vincenzo contemplated his options for a moment but then he made a calculative move by advancing one of his knights to a more advantageous position. With a sly smile, I leaned forward. I noticed how Vincenzo's eyes flitted to my cleavage for a mere second before fixating on my face again. I moved François's knight to a square that put Vincenzo's king in check. François laughed wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me closer, "What is your name, sweetheart?" I smiled at him, "Cindy." His eyes dropped to my breasts but François's lustful gaze made my skin crawl, "Ah, Cindy, who are you here with?" I batted my eyelashes, "I work for the Costellos." Vincenzo aggressively moved his king to a square to escape the check, he basically slammed the piece into the place. François furrowed his eyebrows, staring at the board. "Mind if I help out again?" I asked with a sickly sweet smile. "By all means, beautiful." I hastily moved François queen to a square that put Vincenzo's king in check again. Vincenzo's jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened. He looked like he wanted to kill me. He was forced to move his king to another square. And that was his mistake. I moved François rook to a square, delivering a checkmate to Vincenzo's king. "Checkmate," I whispered, Vincenzo's eyes narrowed on my lips as if he read the word on my lips without even listening to my voice. For a moment, everyone behind him blurred into nothingness, I blinked but he was all I could focus on. "Mon Dieu! I won!" I was startled out of whatever trance I was in by François's slap on the side of my ass. I clapped my hands in mock delight. "Well, would you look at that! You're the winner!" François chuckled, getting to his feet and taking me with him. He extended his hand to Vincenzo. "I guess, I get your car now." My eyes snapped to François and then back to Vincenzo, who looked like he was about to explode. A sinister look spread across his face the one that told me this game was far from over. He coldly shook François's hand, his bitterness evident on his face as his brother handed François the car keys. "Enjoy it while you can," Vincenzo voiced. I just stared at him, did he know about our plan? What did he mean when he told him to enjoy while he can? Vincenzo cast a disgusted glance my way and buttoned his suit jacket before he turned, walking off. And as if on cue all of his men including his brothers followed his lead. François jerked me closer giving me a smile that told me that I don't have to work to get his attention anymore, he was already in my hands. I threw all of my hair to one side, showing off my slender neck, "You didn't tell me anything about yourself." He grinned, "What do you want to know, chérie?" He moved us to the dancefloor, twirling me around, "You name, perhaps?" I said, smiling. "François De La Fontaine," he said his name with pride, "And what do you do for the Costellos, baby?" He pulled me closer as soft music played all around us, "I'm a secretary of Mr. Mancini..." He raised an eyebrow, "Just a secretary?" I smiled, "Just a secretary..." And before we knew it, everyone was changing partners. I was twirled around only to end up in the arms of a man I had never seen before. I danced with him, and we engaged in a stupid conversation that wasn't even important before I was twirled again and then I landed in Capo's arms. I stiffened, staring at him wide-eyed. "He didn't try anything with you, did he?" he asked lowly. I shook my head, "No, Capo.""If things get out of hand, you have my permission to kill him. I'll cover it up," he said, eyeing François. I nodded, "Okay, but I won't let it get out of hand. I can handle him." He gave me a stern nod, "I trust you." A genuine smile crept up my lips, his approval meant something to me. It made me feel seen and appreciated. This time when Capo twirled me, a strong pair of hands gripped my waist. My eyes took in the black perfectly tailored suit, his heady cologne filled my nose and I knew even before looking at him that it was Vincenzo Capone. Why do I keep running into this man? I slowly raised my eyes, taking in his broad shoulders and chiseled jawline before moving further up and looking at his face up close. His dark hair was immaculately styled, framing his face in a way that accentuated the heat of his gaze. We began our dance, I moved with deliberate grace. With each stride, my legs peeked out from beneath the dress, and the red heels of my shoes clicked softly on the polished marble floor. My nails too were painted red as I rested them gently on his shoulder. He held me firmly, possessively. His hand spanned the small of my back, the tips of his fingers pressing lightly into the fabric of my gown. The suit clung to him perfectly, emphasizing his powerful chest and lean, commanding frame. Our eyes locked with a challenge that needed no words. With each sway and twirl, our bodies drew closer, and the air between us seemed to crackle. I took a deep breath in to calm myself, a blush crept up my cheeks. And then he leaned closer, his lips, a mere breath away, brushed against my earlobe as he spoke in a low tone, "Any girl with an ounce of self-respect wouldn't be caught dead in that outfit. A scrap of dignity, that's all it takes, and you couldn't even manage that. You're no different from any other worthless whore." As his cruel words sliced through the air, he violently yanked me away from him, causing me to stagger before landing in Scott's strong arms. Scott's touch had always been my anchor, a source of safety, protection, and comfort. But tonight, as he held me close, his arms wrapped around me, his usual comfort seemed to elude me. "Whoa, take it easy," Scott muttered, his eyes reflecting both tension and confusion as he pulled me away from his as if I had burned him. Whore. Whore. Whore. The word reverberated inside my skull like a relentless drumbeat. Was I truly that repulsive? "Cindy, you alright?" Scott's voice was a lifeline in the storm of my thoughts. I nodded, mustering a brittle smile. "I'm okay, just feeling a bit queasy from all the dancing." I slowly pulled myself out of his hold and walked off the dance floor. But before I could escape the whirlpool of emotions swirling inside me, I found myself captured by an unexpected pair of arms, encircling me from behind. "Why don't we continue this dance somewhere more private, Cherie?" A sliver of my dignity clung to me, but it felt so fragile at that moment. Worthless whore, those two words echoed relentlessly in my mind. I squeezed my eyes shut briefly, gathering my strength, before reopening them with a sultry smile that masked whatever I was feeling inside, "I thought you'd never ask..."