Brooklyn, United States
A girl was looking through the window while standing with a cup of coffee when she sensed some movements behind her. Following the footsteps around the room, she stole a glance of the figure who was walking towards the washroom.
"Good morning." She mumbled while sipping the coffee.
"Hmm... " The man replied and entered the washroom.
After some moments the girl entered the washroom where the man was taking shower. Discarding the only fabric she had, her footsteps followed inside the shower stall. The man was standing under the water in his naked glory. Every droplet of the water that was trailing down, looked like some greedy particle who dared to touch his skin. He ignored the silent footsteps behind him and placed his hands on the wall to let the water wash his body. The brown silky hair soaked with water remained plastered on his scalp.
She looked at the man standing in front of her. Every muscle of his body was sculpted perfectly. The perfect v of his body was something any girl would want. She took a few steps to enter the same territory to feel the water passing through his body. Her arms wrapped around his torso while his eyes were still closed. Slowly her fingers trailed down to his lower abdomen, following the intimate part of the man. Once she almost reached his shaft he grabbed her hand immediately. In the very next moment, she was pressed against the wall with her face on it. He moved his hands from her shoulder blade to her lower back. His long fingers drew some amazing patterns on her skin to earn one after another soft moan. Pressing his body hard on her frame he grabbed the back of her neck to whisper in her ears.
"How many times I have to tell you that don't try to play with me."
"I am not playing. I am just craving for your touch." Her raspy voice made the ambiance more seductive. She felt him getting hard already.
"So much of lust and sexual need you have." He let out a light chuckle before pushing himself harshly in her core. She was still pressed against the wall when he was busy thrusting himself in and out with great force.
"I need you more." He heard her right after the first round.
The water failed to pass through those tightly coupled naked bodies. As the restroom got filled with the sound of moans, thrust, and many more dirty languages, two human beings submerged themselves into the primitive game of nature.
He was about to reach the climax when he drew himself out from her dripping core. She was still not satisfied with the sudden withdrawal. The groaning was a clear indication of her frustration. She turned her body to face him and he looked at her face while rubbing her lower lips With his thumb. She knew the meaning of this.
Kneeling in front of him, she took him in her mouth. Bobbing her head to and fro, she kept on following a rhythm to pleasure him. He grabbed her soaked hair to move more vigorously in her mouth. He needed the release badly. He moved faster this time to reach his climax and within a few more seconds he emptied his entire amount in her mouth. She kept on looking at his eyes throughout the situation. Swallowing every drop of it, she licked her lips in grave satisfaction.
He cleaned himself thoroughly and took a towel to dry his body. She kept on ogling at his features while rubbing herself with soap under the shower. Once he left the washroom she took a long shower to relax her muscles and came out of the washroom wearing a bathrobe. He was already getting ready inside the closet when she decided to comment.
"Afraid of having a child with me?" She knew every time they had sex, he used a condom. Even if they didn't use protection he would have never released his seeds in her core.
"No." One firm and clear reply from his side didn't create a strong point in front of her.
"We are engaged already. Then what's the problem." She spoke with frustration filled in her voice.
He took a sharp breath and moved towards her holding a sinister smile on his.
"Do you think I am answerable to you? If you, then you are highly mistaken. Enjoy what we have." He pushed her to the nearby wall and licked the area of her neck seductively.
"Umm. I just enjoy being with you."
"Then don't ask much." He pointed his fingers to the dress he selected for her before leaving the room. She got ready and came downstairs to have breakfast.
The breakfast table was as usual filled with plenty of food. She saw Marcus, the head of the security standing with a serious look.
"What's wrong Marcus. Seems like we have got guests."
"Of course Mam. Three imposters by the way." Marcus replied with a devilish smile. She knew the meaning of the smile. Surely those importers would be tortured like hell before tasting their death.
"Hope your Boss would love those gifts." She smiled back mentioning the name of the Boss.
"Seems like my day has started nice." The voice was enough to tell the people inside, who had arrived.
"Carlos Joseph Marcello."
He entered with his signature intimidating aura. Marcus bowed his head and gave a short detail of the matter. Settling himself on the chair he waited for his maid to serve him breakfast.
While having breakfast he discussed a few matters to take immediate action. The growing issues in the business were creating a big fuss. No way he was willing to take some extra headache. One imposter was found in his office in New York City. They had taken care of that.
After finishing their breakfast he looked at his woman who was looking forward to hearing from him.
"What are you thinking now?" He asked her again.
"Wedding date." She laughed but didn't continue laughing when he gave her a hard glare.
"We have a serious issue here. I am flying to Detroit tonight. Enjoy your shopping." He winked before leaving the breakfast table.
"Thank you." She replied and walked in the other direction.
He informed his security and made his way towards the basement of the mansion. Marcus took the lead and opened a cellar to let him in.
Those three men whom they caught red-handed were kept in three different cells. One of them committed suicide, after the unbearable tortures they had done. Two of them were still alive and begging for death. They in no way wanted to survive after bearing their inhuman tortures.
"Did they say the name?" Carlos asked Marcus. In a reply, he nodded his head to give a negative gesture.
"Then don't dare to waste my time by calling me here. Get back to me when they open their dirty mouth." Saying so he was about to leave the cellar when an ear-piercing sound was heard.
"Surely Dexter had cut his finger," Marcus replied casually.
"How could the third one commit suicide? You guys are good for nothing. I want them alive as long as they hold the information." One clear indication was enough for Marcus to take his next steps. He immediately gathered his men to instruct them thoroughly.
"Let's see the one who got the best treatment." He winked when Marcus was done with his instructions. The best treatment meant the worst torture anyways. Marcus let him move towards another cellar where the half-dead person was hanging from the ceiling. There was not a single centimeter left on his body, from where he was not bleeding. They were slapping the half-dead from time to time to keep his consciousness enough to speak a few words.
Once he reached the room he saw the pool of blood and smirked like a maniac. Encircling the hanging body he looked at the man who seemed to be a piece of meat only.
"Name." He growled, making everyone shiver.
There came no response from the man who was bleeding to death. He turned his face to the rest of his men who were standing there.
They immediately gave some more details about the person. The man who was hanging like a piece of meat was from Detroit. His name was Ron. He was working for Sylvester who was none but one of his sworn enemies. What he demanded at that time was a single lead to reach Sylvester. He was not sure of how this man sneaked into his heavily guarded area. But one thing he knew was that whoever had helped him would face the same consequences.
"I know you work for Sylvester. Tell me the name of my men who helped you." It might be the biggest sentence that he had spoken till now. He was never a man of long sentences or large conversations. Sometimes his smirk or raised brow did enough justice to bring out the words from his captive’s mouth.
"Haven't ......seen....... .... face.." long pause "his face..."
Another long pause that irked him too much. Marcus looked at his Boss's face to know more. He had some plan for them.
"If he hadn't seen the face who guided him, then he doesn't need those eyes anymore."
Marcus already knew the meaning of that sentence. Even though Ron was almost on the verge of passing out, those words poured like some hot lead into his ears. He started moving his hands abruptly in those restraints to break free. All of his attempts died immediately when a whip landed on his bare body again. The amount of blood that gathered on the ground was enough to make the floor slippery.
"Let me go." Even though His faint voice didn't fail to reach his ears, he didn't bother to pay attention. How would a man even think of living after being tortured that much? So sad. He scoffed mentally before exiting the room. One after another loud cry made the basement shiver like anything. His eyes were plucked out one after another. Ron was dangling in between life and death. He was unable to feel anything and slowly they found his body getting stilled in those restraints.
Carlos reached his office after instructing his men to dump the body. But not before sending those eyeballs to Sylvester. He wanted to put a hard slap on his cheek to invade his territory. He wanted to prove his strength. He wanted to tell that the title King belongs to him only. The one and only Carlos.
He was frustrated with Sylvester for one year. That Irish Mafia was way too hungry to grab a hold on American Underworld. He did not understand the fact that it belonged to Carlos. Carlos is the superior and the leading Mafia in American Continent. Just to avoid the gang war in the first place he was not attacking the entire troop of Sylvester. He was searching for Sylvester to rip his heart off. Carlos made his way up to this not by smoking weed. He killed brutally, tortured mercilessly, and pulled every throne out of his path to rule the world. He never denied joining hands for business. But he didn't forget to cut down every finger that ever tried to raise to grab his power and position.
A man in his early thirties was drinking along with one more man. Three of them seemed to enjoy the moments. "So, what makes you come here?" Carlos was asked the simplest yet complicated question by David. "Just to have a look at my own club. Sometimes you need to pay a visit to your properties." Carlos laughed while clinking his glass with David. Of course, he had come down to Detroit to track down the rest of the moves that were slowly chewing the lion's tail. And here the lion was none but him who had to expand his claws. Sometimes ignorance to the little irritation could cause a big headache. David was working under him for the past few years. It was not that hard to read through his words. There was more in
Greta was pacing inside her room after hearing about Carlos. She was shocked knowing that a mere waitress dared to kill her man. Even the idea of killing Carlos is a grave mistake or rather a near-impossible task. She was hissing in rage from time to time while cursing those who were present at that time. What's the point of keeping so much security if they fail to even see such dangerous activities? She was waiting for Carlos to return. The clock struck 10 at night when a large masculine figure entered the room. Looking at him Greta walked towards him to help him with his suit. Taking off the suit she looked at his face. His jaw was flexed but a glint was present in his eyes. That clearly explained his victory but not the portion of the win. She raised her hand to unbutton his shirt when he gripped her hand in his calloused one. Turning her body he pushed
All the colors out there turned grey when he appeared. The clumsiness reached my central nervous system and my eyes bored into those dark orbs. My freedom is wrapped in a dark cocoon making the stage of life as a never-ending pupa. A butterfly died being desperate to come up with her new wings. A dream of wings crashed beneath the desires and lust. Every part of my soul screamed a single name when the body was marked as his. A dreadful memory, a longing love, a life full of spring, all gathered up to sacrifice themselves. The winter never passed away to welcome the spring. It kept on giving coldness. I kept on losing my leaves as they had dried in the hope of receiving some new ones in the future. But spring never came. I sealed myself in the dark box to avoid a little amount of ray as hoped. I fell for the darkness as they were constant. The luxury of life only brought broken dreams and shattered pieces of hope. I didn
The room fell silent when I walked in another direction. I opened the door and made my way, a fewer steps more or less in the same hell. "Accustomed" is a newfound word that became my permanent pep talk creator. I wanted to stay inside the same darkness to avoid a single ray of new surroundings. It was not pathetic yet unacceptable in my view. I was ordered to move down to please the almighty. I made my way towards the kitchen as a lawfully wedded wife. My vows remained intact in a certain way. I accepted wholeheartedly my doom along with the darkness. "Love, are you trying to please me?" His voice rang through my ear making me stiff at my place. "Love." A word that once showed me the best of this world ended up crashing every single sparkle of my life. "Unfair" I coul
Carlos lit his favorite cigarette while looking at the man sitting in front of him. His facial expression was enough to depict how scared he was. Carlos kept on looking at his face while puffing one after another making smoke rings to reach his nostril. "Brando, how many times do I have to warn you?" Carlos spoke in such a gentle manner that it looked like he was just scolding his younger brother. But in reality, everyone knows the meaning of this gentleness. It is just a fake wrapper of the cruelest object that Carlos can deliver to anyone. "Boss, we haven't done anything. The shipment was stolen midway before we could even reach there." Brando clasped his both hands together while reciting every single word from his vocabulary. One wrong word from his side can cause his death. "I see." Carlos took a long drag and stood up from his chair. Looking at his figure Brando tried to get up too but Carlos raised his finger to make him stop. Carlos
It was dark outside. The soundproof room did justice to her screams. Every single scream that dared to invade those thick barricades died within. She shivered, being hung from the ceiling like a piece of chicken with her hands Shackled in metal chains. How far the pain could penetrate through her skin, she didn't dare to think. His growling, anger, and dirty words were everything that she could understand. "What did you shout in your sleep, sweetheart?" He gripped her already sullen face, digging his nails on her skin. The rage in his voice was all she found more terrifying than his actions. "I am sorry." She whispered this time. For the very first time she dared to speak the name she took in her sleep but ended up being in a mess. What would a person do if he or she had a nightmare?
We had our stories painted with a rainbow. We had our words coated with love and our promises made us hold each other in an eternal bond. We both desired to see the sunrise together kissing the morning sweetness. Craving each other's touch we walked towards our beloved journey. I landed in a situation where I found nothing but pain and doubt. A continuous agitation along with painful memories took up my mind. I looked at him with the same eyes I had before. Nothing changed even after all these days, months, years. His promises didn't change. His mind didn't ask about his deeds. All we have is a legal paper in between us to carry forward this mess. A mess was created without any reason. A mess based on love, obsession, and power. I had my choice, I had my dreams. All shattered that day I lost a part of me. I accepted his decision to save what I
Carlos "Greta, we have already discussed that. No more comments on that." "He made a fool out of you. Why can't you understand that?" "Don't try to push me, Greta." "Carlos, why don't you trust me?" I asked myself whether I heard her right or not. My little fuck toy was asking something which never came between us. Being a Mafia trusting someone is foolishness. Especially when the opposite belongs to another mobster's family. She is no saint. She always wanted her stepbrother as my right in command and I knew that. But I didn't expect her to come up with allegations on my current selected one.