In The Mafia's Shadow

"Ahh"

The brunette's second climax caught her off guard, making her cry out loudly before she quickly drifted into a blissful sleep with a warm breath sneaking out of her nostrils.

Meanwhile, Druid stayed alert. He got up from the bedside, his skin gleaming with a fine sheen, and headed to the bathroom. Stepping into the shower, he rinsed off the sweat and remnants of their encounter.

Despite his unhurried movements, his mind remained active, always working.As he buttoned his white shirt, two sharp knocks sounded on the door.

He noticed the girl stirring as he called for the visitor to enter, casting her a brief glance as she lay exposed, he chuckled silently. He felt no empathy as one of his men entered the room.

The girl gasped at the sight of the scary looking men, she quickly scrambling for the covers to hide herself.

Ignoring her, Druid focused on the man who nodded respectfully. "Sir," the man began without a preamble. "We have found him."

Druid's eyes narrowed dangerously at those words.

"Finally," he said, picking up his jacket. The weight of the gun in its inner pocket was a familiar comfort. "Where is he?"

"In the boroughs, sir," the man responded quickly. "He was seen leaving an apartment. There's a woman living with him."

His lover, Druid thought, predictably.

"We can move in tonight," the man fearfully suggested, but Druid's sharp glance silenced him immediately.

"I want Lorrel Gadot in an hour. No excuses," Druid commanded. "Waiting until night time, will give him a chance to escape. If he does, you'll pay with your life." Druid said with zero empathy in his voice.

"Yes, boss." The men chorused respectfully.

Druid straightened, glancing at himself in the small hotel mirror. He caught the frightened look of the girl, now fully awake and wrapped in the white sheet. Smirking at her reflection, he felt a surge of satisfaction when she flinched and looked away.

His men would handle her.

Without another word, Druid Steel left the hotel room, brushing past his subordinate, who bowed respectfully, eyes to the floor.

...

"Ugh," Valentina Gadot groaned to herself as she got off the bus. Another day gone, she thought to herself, her steps on the cobblestone pavement slow and indicative of her tiredness.

The blonde had her hair covered by her hoodie.

It was already 7pm, and she was headed back home from another night of grueling work.

Being a stripper wasn't the kind of respectable job she had envisioned for herself when she was younger, but it was the only work she had been able to get when she was under the threat of being kicked out of her apartment.

Now it had been over a year and any bit of shame the 22 year old felt about her job had been beaten out of her by the trials and tribulations she faced everyday. Yet, it did pay the bills.

A yawn broke out of her lips and she covered her mouth promptly. A woman walking towards her wearing a suit gave her a funny sort of look that made Valentina want to laugh in her face.

Soon after she was home, turning the key in her lock and entering the apartment.

Walking from the entrance to the kitchen, she stopped when she noticed the dirty dishes in the sink. Her nose wrinkled and she let out a growl of frustration.

Lorrel. Again.

Sometimes, Valentina really hated her brother, despite her efforts to let the little things slide.

She banged on the door of the second bedroom, which had once been her painting room until her brother had unexpectedly shown up three days ago, asking for a place to stay.

"Lorrel!" she shouted at the door, which promptly opened.

Her older brother stood there, eyes bleary and a look of confusion on his face. "Sis, what the fuck? I was sleeping," he groaned.

"Yeah? Well, maybe you shouldn't have messed up the kitchen again," she snapped, pointing a finger at him. "Get out here right now and clean up those dishes. You know I won't do it for you. Come on," she beckoned.

He groaned louder and slammed the door in her face. Valentina exhaled sharply, turning back to the kitchen.

She grabbed the frozen meal she'd bought for breakfast from the grocery store and shoved it into the microwave, slamming the door shut as she set it to warm up. Her frustration was palpable.

Damn it, she thought, her face scrunching up in irritation. If she had known living with her older brother would be this exhausting, she wouldn't have agreed to it in the first place.

She remembered all the times she'd called him for help, only for him to ignore her. Now he was the one relying on her, and she was too soft-hearted to refuse.

A few minutes later, with her food warmed, her brother sauntered into the kitchen, bare-chested and with his sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

She rolled her eyes. "Maybe put on a shirt," she muttered under her breath. As she ate, she watched him roughly wash the dishes.

Valentina had many questions about her brother's sudden arrival. Where has he been for the past two years? Why did she feel like he was hiding something about the circumstances that brought him to her doorstep? But every time she asked, he deflected.

"When are you going to leave?" she asked, noticing the muscles in his back tense.

"Not for a while," he finally responded, though his words carried an undercurrent of tension.

"Why?" she pressed.

He didn't answer. Valentina scoffed, brushing wayward strands of hair from her eyes. "You've been really silent about why you came to stay with me in the first place. Are you in trouble?"

"It's none of your business," he snapped, his voice rough and dangerous. She stiffened. "And if you know what's good for you, you'll stop asking me that question, Valentina."

The conversation ended abruptly as he slammed the kitchen cabinet door shut, making the wood shake.