Married to the mafia King

I walked over to the Angry Asshole as he was sipping his scotch.

“What’s your name?” I asked in the friendliest voice I could muster.

He didn’t even look at me he just turned away like he couldn’t be bothered. “I’m not interested.”

Okay, screw the friendly voice.

“That makes two of us,” I said coldly. “But would it kill you to tell me your name?”

That got his attention.

He looked over at me with a mixture of surprise and anger

And maybe, just maybe, a tiny bit of respect.

“Adriano,” he said.

Nice name.

Still an asshole, though.

“Bianca,” I replied.

He looked me up and down. “Women like you are usually better mannered. Or at least pretend to be.”

“And what type of women are those?” I snapped.

“Whores,” he said contemptuously.

At least he stared me straight in the eyes when he said it.

“Well, I’m not a whore, so I guess I don’t have to pretend,” I said with real venom in my voice.

“If you’re not a whore, why are you here?”

“Do you really have to ask that question?”

“Since I have no idea yeah, I guess I do.”

“Because I’m being paid.” I wanted to add asshole to the end of the sentence, but I figured that might be pushing it.

“For what? To annoy me?” His tone of voice indicated he thought that last line was amusing.

“What are YOU here for, then?”

My tone of voice was almost a dare.

Like, ADMIT you’re a mafioso.

He glanced over at the Chatty Guy. There was a dark edge to Adriano’s voice when he answered, “To settle some scores.”

“I thought your type did that with guns.”

I couldn’t help myself he was such a prick.

My answer surprised him, and he looked at me coldly. “And what type is that?”

I figured I might have gone a little too far.

“People in your line of business.”

He narrowed his eyes. “And what line of business is that?”

If he wasn’t going to say his job out loud, I sure as hell wasn’t.

“The kind that settles scores with guns,” I said coolly.

He smirked like we had an in-joke between us. “Hm.” Then he gave me another glance from head to toe. “You’re an odd choice for this sort of thing.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, offended.

I figured he was saying I wasn’t pretty enough.

Normally I didn’t give a damn what men thought of me

But, I have to admit, the ‘odd choice’ part stung.

He might have been an asshole…

…but he was hot.

And it’s never fun to hear a hot guy tear down your appearance.

However, he hadn’t meant what I thought he had.

“If the Agrellas are looking to butter me up, they should’ve gotten somebody better at this part of the job.”Belongs to © n0velDrama.Org.

“And what job is that?”

Adriano half-smiled, half-sneered. “Do you really have to ask that question?”

“I told you, I’m not a whore.”

“What are you, then?”

It was obvious he didn’t believe me.

Screw him.

“Somebody who just got tired of this conversation,” I said.

I turned and started to walk off

When he grabbed my arm.

OH no.

I whirled around and jerked my arm away. “Let GO of me!”

He might have been an asshole

But he did let go when I told him to.

Before I could turn and leave again, he asked, “You’re here for the money right?”

“Aren’t you?”

He smirked. “No, to settle a score. Keep up.”

Asshole.

“Uh-huh,” I said sarcastically. “And this score you’re going to settle it has nothing to do with business, or money, or whatever it is you do for a job right?”

“Alright, so we’re both here for the money. How’d you like a little bonus?”

“I’m not sleeping with you.”

“Good, I don’t want to catch anything.”

That was it.

I was done.

I turned away again

And, as expected, he grabbed me again.

“Let GO!” I hissed.

But this time he didn’t. “Hold on ”

Suddenly the Chatty Man was rushing over to my side. “Hey hey ”

I thought for a second that he might be trying to rescue me from the asshole.

I guess I forgot how the world worked.

How the world of men worked, anyway.

“What’s your problem?!” the Chatty Man snarled as he looked at me furiously.

I was taken aback and stopped struggling

“No problem,” Adriano said except he spoke in a totally calm voice. It was more like he was brushing off the older man. Why would you think there’s a problem?

But Chatty Man wasn’t to be deterred. “You want me to throw her out, Signore?”

“No.” A pause… and then Adriano smirked. “I like it rough.”

The Chatty Man apparently didn’t know what to make of that, and he withdrew a few seconds later.

I looked at Adriano in surprise.

He stared me right in the eyes and said, “Answer a few questions and I’ll give you a tip. No sex required.”

I narrowed my eyes. “…how much of a tip?” I asked distrustfully.

“How does 300 euros sound?”

Actually, it sounded pretty damn good.

But I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of showing any excitement.

“…what do you want to know.”

“Are you one of the Agrellas’ girls?”

I could feel my temper getting hotter. “I’m assuming you mean a prostitute.”

“Yes.”

“NO. I’m NOT.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

I wondered if I should tell him the truth

Screw it.

Why not.

I’d never see him again after tonight.

“My father owes them money.”

Adriano looked slightly confused. “So he whored you out?”

I had to hold myself back from punching him.

“I swear to God, you make another crack like that, I’ll slap your goddamn face.”

To my surprise, he smiled slightly. “I’ll remember that for when I wanna get slapped.” Then he grew serious. “Why’d your father send you here, then?”

“He didn’t. I can’t reach him, and they’re gonna break his legs, so I’m doing this to buy him a little more time.”

Adriano tilted his head to the side. “That’s a pretty good story.”

“It’s the truth,” I said in irritation.

“The truth is just a story people want you to believe until the facts come out.”

“Ooh, that’s deep,” I said sarcastically. “You a philosopher?”

“Philosophers don’t settle scores with guns,” he said a clever little callback to the earlier part of our conversation. “Who hired you? Carmine?”

“No, Sergio.”

He looked confused. “Sergio?”

“Sergio Pasquarelli.”

“Never heard of him.”

“I wish I could say the same,” I muttered.

“Does he work for the Agrellas?”

“Yes.”

“So this Sergio guy, he brought you here?”

“No.” Adriano looked confused again, so I continued. “He took me to some modeling agency, and they got me ready for tonight.”

He frowned. “Modeling agency?”

“Did I stutter?”

He gestured towards the other two women. “What about them?”

They were hanging all over the Swede and the giant although the two men were doing little more than smiling and making polite conversation.

“What about them?” I asked.

Adriano smirked. “Are they ‘not whores,’ too? Do they have relatives who owe money to the Agrellas?”

I hated this asshole.

“No,” I said coldly. “They just give blowjobs.”

Adriano was enjoying himself now that he was pissing me off. “At least somebody’s honest about their profession.”

“That would be me being honest about their profession.”

“Uh-huh. And what do you do, exactly?”

“I’m a student.”

“Studying what?”

“Fashion design.”

He looked down at my dominatrix get-up. “Did you design this?”

“No. The modeling agency provided it.”

He nodded. “Good.”

“Why ‘good’?”

“Because you may not give blowjobs for money, but you’re sure as hell dressed like it.”

“Blowjob couture,” I said snarkily.

“Pretty much.”

“That’s what they wanted.”

“Who?”

“The agency. They wanted me to look like a high-class escort.”

He smirked again. “I don’t know about the ‘high-class’ part.”

Apparently he thought he had the upper hand because he was dangling money in front of me.

Time to change that perception.

“Why dress high-class when there’s nobody with class around?” I asked coolly.

That annoyed him… although he still seemed vaguely amused.

“Careful,” he warned me.

“I’d say the same to you, but you ignore almost everything I say.”

“‘Almost’?”

“You haven’t made another crack about me being a whore,” I pointed out.

“The night is still young. So let me get this straight: your father owes money to the Agrellas. They said you could work off some of it if you came here and… did what, exactly?”

I shrugged. “Talk.”

He acted like he didn’t believe me. “Talk?”

“Yeah.”

“Talk is cheap.”

“Not that cheap, apparently,” I said.

“How much did they say they’d knock off your father’s debt?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“It is if you want to get your tip.”

I narrowed my eyes. I really didn’t like him.

…too bad he was so good-looking.

“3000 euros,” I answered.

He looked stunned. “You gotta be kidding me.”

“No,” I said, offended.

He still had a shocked expression, so I asked, “What?”

“They’re vastly overpaying.”

“Maybe if I enjoyed talking to you more, it’d be a bit more entertaining,” I snapped.

“So you have to enjoy a job to be any good at it?”

“It helps.”

He smirked. “Well, I hope you enjoy giving blowjobs, then.”

That did it.

I slapped him.

SMACK!

“Fuck around and find out, asshole,” I snapped as he touched his cheek.

I turned and stormed off towards the bedroom.

Suddenly he was calling after me. “Hey you forgot your tip.”

I paused and turned.

He was holding three 100 Euro bills in the air…

…and he was smirking at me.

Like, I know what you are, little girl.

Come and get your money, WHORE.

I really could have used the cash…

…but I valued my self-worth a lot more.

I walked back over to him

Acted like I was reaching for the money

But flipped him off instead.

“Stick it up your ass,” I hissed. Then I turned and walked away.