I bet you can, Mr. Micheli, and preferably without your clothes on. I blush and have trouble swallowing while I visualize him naked.
What the hell is wrong with me? My father’s body lies in cold storage at the coroner’s office and I’m standing on a street corner drinking wine with a Roman god.
5
Marchello
Idon’t know what possessed me to ask Prende to lunch knowing her father just died. What can I say? I’m a thoughtless bastard who always puts his playboy needs first. But this is also work. Important work. We need to control the situation and being close to the subject who doesn’t suspect a thing is the cover I need to do my job.
Or maybe I’m closer than normal because I found her completely irresistible that I couldn’t bring myself to leave her, especially after I noticed her face was a bit puffy from losing her father. Believe me, I’ve broken plenty of hearts and made enough women cry to know the look.
I get the impression her father sheltered her from everything and she’s too naïve to be part of the Albanian mafia. Anything is possible so I need to be sure, because that’s one mistake I’d never live down.
It seems as if she has no idea what her dad did once he left the house. If she’s playing dumb, shame on me for falling for her lies.
I wonder how long the fake deposits and laundering of funds will continue before she notices what is going on with her business. Who will be her savior? Will she be safe?
It never occurred to me that she would be so clueless about the wicked things her father and his friends did over the years. Who, among his enemies, had the most to gain in getting rid of her father? Clearly, we weren’t the only ones who wanted him dead.
I mull this over while Prende talks about her botany studies at the university and how the flower shop made sense as a business after she graduated. It’s not just the pretty arrangements, she also loves figuring out ways to use flowers and plants for medicine and to improve people’s health. In fact, she’d like to own a house one day and grow flowers and vegetables.
Her mind is creative like Juliet’s but also scientific in that she’s interested in the science behind each plant. She’s definitely got a good head on her shoulders. Now I need to make sure it stays there.
The lunch we share is from one of my favorite sandwich shops near the Duomo in the center of Florence. As soon as they saw my face, I had no problem getting two paninis and a bottle of wine. No one in that line said a peep.
See how easy organized crime figures can fit in with regular people and no one is the wiser? I don’t get my hands dirty, but we have people who work the streets and bribe officials when we need to get stuff done. Maybe that makes me impatient. I’ve become accustomed to having things accomplished when I ask for them.
Every gangster has a weakness that can be exploited, and we’re no different. To remain successful, Dante is turning the Micheli Enterprises into a legitimate business. He goes to big events and rubs elbows with mayors and judges. While he’s schmoozing his way into society and politics, the rest of the family is still kicking down doors and knocking heads to get what they want.
After Prende finishes her food, I walk her back to her flower shop. Along the way, I check and double check my surroundings, looking for anything suspicious or out of place, but nothing. We’re safe.
“I have to meet the bride, Juliet, and go over the wedding details as soon as possible.” Prende’s eager tone tells me she really enjoys her work.
“Of course. I’ll make sure Juliet contacts you today with the information you need. I realize time is of the essence.”
“I can’t wait to meet her.” And with that, Prende noticeably relaxes, as if for a moment she forgets her dad is gone and her life will never be the same.
I wonder who is running the Albanian mob in her father’s absence? No doubt his associates are running around doing damage control. Where will they hold the funeral? Will Prende discover the truth behind her father’s death? And if she does, will she find out the truth about her father’s dealings?
I need to stay close to her to protect our interest, but I’ve been here too long and can’t afford to blow my cover. I feel compromised because, whether she realizes it or not, she has power over me. She’s wholesome and a woman with values. I find her as refreshing as the first spring rain that cleanses the street and cleanses my dirty soul. Like a thirsty flower that needs to be watered, I need her to sustain me.
“Well, have a good day and keep my information, and if you need anything, just call,” I slip my business card into her hand before I give a quick kiss on each of her rosy cheeks. I’m bumbling this part, but she smiles and goes along with it, as if we rehearsed how awkward it would be.
I feel the warmth of her essence engulf me like a magical potion and I pull back, pretending I’m not dizzy with desire. I fight the impulse to caress her perfectly smooth cheek.
I’d like to be friends, but I don’t think friends typically sport wood when they say goodbye. It seems every time we touch, the hair on my arms goes up and my cock fills my pants. I distract myself to keep him in the barn. Maybe if Angelica was around to service my needs, I wouldn’t be so damn horny.
But being this close to her without further reason is probably inappropriate. Besides, a girl like her has to warm up to a man with my dark character. And I can tell she comes from a world her father controlled, where women are practically kept prisoners to keep them safe and protected from men like me.
“Thanks for lunch, it was nice,” she says as I turn and pull the door open to leave.
“My pleasure,” I wave, and I disappear down a side street.
Contact has been made, that’s step one. Now I wait to see if she’s going to pursue this any further.
I head over to our main office to see who’s in and as luck would have it, Dante and Juliet are hanging out at the office. I pass Maria, our secretary, and nod before heading to join my family.
“Well, well, look at you two,” I say, taking off my coat and pulling up a chair. “What’s up?”