Blood Ties:Becoming A Mobster's Wife

CYAN

I passed my hands over the dewy hazel blades of grass for the fifth time, relishing the feeling of the rivulets of wetness sticking to my fingers. I was cold, not because autumn in Baltimore is not pleasant, but because I had little to no amount of clothes on. I didn't know how I ended up in the hazel grassy field, but I knew that I was there, half naked in boy shorts and a bra, no money and no food. It had rained the day before, I could tell because of the wet hazel coloured grasses. As I sat, cross-legged on the grasses, for another half an hour, caring less about where I was, a long, gloomy shadow casted over my small frame. I tipped my head back and looked up at the brooding, dominating silhouette of a man.

"Who are you?". His voice passed over my skin like the barrel of a pistol dripping in chocolate. So incredibly sweet and deadly, I subconsciously found myself closing my eyes. I heard him letting out a light hiss and I opened my eyes to find him crouching down in front of me, his light grey pants stretching over his strong calves and knees.

"I don't like repeating myself, Cara" he warned and I sighed. I tilted my head to the side, staring at him with squinted eyes and trying to stay caged in between the sinister grey and lonely blackness in his eyes. I could tell I wasn't fine, because I couldn't stop staring at this man yet nothing about him was registering in my brain. I kept forgetting everything about him except his domineering presence.

"Do you live around here?" I asked in a quiet voice. He narrowed his eyes. In threat or confusion, I couldn't tell.

"What are you doing here? This is private property"

"Is it?"

"Yes, it is," he paused and hissed before he straightened up, unfolding before me. He looked down at me like a peasant invading his powerful glory and I almost smiled at him. "Now get off my property".

I sighed and wrapped my slim arms around myself, my teeth clattering a little because of the cold.

"I don't know where else to go" I murmured.

"I don't care"

"What is this place anyway?"

"Do you know who I am, Cara?"

I shook my head, no. "I'm hungry. Can I have some food?" I pleaded. He looked at me in confusion, a little disturbed about my state. I couldn't blame him. I looked more dead than a heartbroken Shakespearean sonnet. He gets back on his knees and assessed me with those sinister silk grey eyes and I found myself thinking back at his voice, only this time it felt like a chocolate-dripping pistol kissing my skin underneath silk grey sheets. I felt my core tingling at the very thought of it and I tilted my head to the side again, staring at him. He catches a strand of my matted black hair in between his fingers and twirled. That hair hadn't seen a comb in years.

"Where did you come from, Cara?" He asked in a low voice and I swallowed.

"An orphanage. They threw me out after I turned 18 and nobody wanted to adopt me. So I ended up wandering through cities. My feet are killing me. I rest in random places like this once in a while. It's okay, right?".

He stared at me for a moment long, searching my eyes before he asked.

"Do you want to come with me?"

"Do you have food?" I asked with big, pleading eyes. He sighed and gets back onto his feet. I watched him as he took off his grey suit jacket and drapped it over my shoulders lazily. He swaddled my thin arms into it and a blanket of safety cocoons my entire helpless existence when he carried me in his arms. I inhaled his scent.

He smelt like gun powder, blood and strong manly cologne with a hint of cigar. I inhaled again, it still waved all the red flags.

Yet, I found myself snuggling into him and closing my eyes. I fell asleep in what I knew was as dangerous as kissing a starving lion.

•••••••••

I woke up some time around noon and the man gave me food. I ate like a dog, without any manners and he watched. Watched me like a hawk from across the island of his gigantic kitchen. If I wasn't so hungry, I would've been lost in the unbelievable space but I haven't had food in days that it took more than two plates of pasta and vegetables to start connecting my brain cells together.

This man that I followed, this stranger that offered me food.... a stranger that smelt so much like blood and cigar, sat across from me on one of the lush stools lined up against the kitchen's marbled island. His white shirt was slightly creased, easing and stretching against muscles that I oddly wanted to lick.

Like an animal.

The fabric of his shirt outlined dark tints of hidden glory tattoos that I wanted to explored. Yet, as he stared at me from across the counter, I realized that I didn't know this man. And he didn't know me too.

Two complete strangers staring at each other like creatures of opposite universes. Our universes were so different. I was dirty, clammy and skinny, no clothes except for my boy shorts and a sports bra. While he sat there, white shirt, grey pants and all, long dark hair slicked back in a man bun, defined jawlines peppered with a two-day old stubble that would scratch my skin more than the twigs under the bridge I'd once slept on.

"What's your name?" He asked in a deep voice. My lips thinned into a straight line.

"Cyan," I paused and gave him a crooked smile. "Like the color".

He nodded his head and a low hum sounded at the back of the throat.

"Blue" he agreed. He leaned his elbows on his knees and stared at me with his face inches away from mine.

"What are you doing in a city like this all alone?". He spoke to me like I was a child, and it made me cower back, shrinking into myself as though I hadn't shown an infinite amount of weakness by coming with him.

"Wandering" I answered shortly.

"Are you lost?"

"I don't know. Am I in danger?"

He smirked and roamed his eyes over my face before he locked them with mine again.

"This is the least safest place you can be, Cara."

"Because of the Cosa Nostra?"

He narrowed his eyes at me.

"Cosa Nostra. Cara, this is a dangerous place. It's like you're swimming with the sharks and the moment you start bleeding," he paused and inhaled the air around me sharply. Then, he gave me a look that made my toes curl and the hairs on my skin stand erect. "The scent of blood is unnerving."

My stomach dropped and my brain cells came together to make an uncanning realization.

I didn't know this man. And the Cosa Nostra ruled the cities. Blood and cigar weren't just a coincidental combination. But still, I decided to ask.

"Who are you?"

He stayed silent, pink lips thinned into a straight line and those eyes, those sinfully grey eyes connivingly calculating, telling me I really didn't want know. But I had a sickening feeling that I already knew. I followed a lion into its den, though not to kiss it, but definitely to kiss my non-existent old life goodbye.

He was cosmos with a diabolical amount of storm brewing within those silky grey eyes, while I was chaos with an infinite amount of calmness.

ROMAN

Perched atop a secluded hillside, the sprawling mansion commands awe and reverence, a fortress of wealth and power hidden amidst the rugged landscape. Encircled by towering pine trees and high stone wall, the estate exudes an aura of secrecy and exclusivity. At the entrance, iron gates adorned with menacing heraldic symbols swing open, granting access to a winding driveway paved with imported marble.

The facade of the mansion is a study in grandiosity, with its imposing neoclassical architecture and towering columns hewn from solid granite. Elaborate stonework adorns every surface, depicting scenes of conquest and glory, while gargoyles leer from the cornices, their stone faces twisted into menacing sneers.

Through the double doors, a grand foyer stretches out. Its marble floors gleaming under the soft glow of crystal chandeliers. A sweeping staircase, its banisters carved with intricate patterns, leads to the upper floors, while opulent tapestries line the walls, depicting scenes of power and intrigue.

To the left of the foyer lies a vast entertainment area, complete with a marble-topped bar, a billiards room, and a private theater outfitted with plush velvet seats and state-of-the-art audiovisual equipment. To the right, a formal dinning room awaits, its long mahogany table set with fine china and silverware, illuminated by the warm flicker of candlelight.

The heart of the mansion is my private quarters, a sanctuary of indulgence and excess. The master suite is a symphony of luxury, with a king-sized bed drapped in silk sheets, a marble fireplace, and a private balcony offering panoramic views of the surrounding countryside. And my private study, where I conduct all my business affairs away from prying eyes.

Rich wood paneling lines the walls, while leather-bound books line the shelves, their titles hinting at secrets and forbidden knowledge. A mahogany desk sits at the center of the room, its surface cluttered with papers and documents, white but undoubtedly painted with a dripping red.

Yet, even amidst all this bloody glory, someone out there was trying to fuck me over. I watched the soldiers patrolling the grounds keenly, eyes narrowed and staring to see one slippery move for me to paint the greenery of the lawns a daunting red.

There was a rat.

It had been two months since my one year old daughter had been taken away from me. I had raided the entire city, killed anyone that had been remotely close to the place she had been taken, tortured and killed every man I suspected was responsible for her abduction.

But still, I couldn't find her.

Her abduction wasn't just a random abduction that had been happening within the Cosa Nostra ring. When a child is taken, they're never heard from again. Their families hold funerals without any dead body because all knew that that child was never coming back. But Kiara's abduction was different.

Not because I had been receiving random pictures of her and anonymous calls demanding for ransom, but because she was the daughter of The Camorra's fucking capo.

Fucking with what was mine is cutting a ticket straight to hell. I killed and maimed anyone who so much as breathe the wrong way close to something that was mine. And abducting my daughter? That was complete madness and the Cosa Nostra have not seen the worst yet.

I will find that rat and it'll be a deadly end for them.

I heard the door knob to my study being fiddled with and I turned around to find Vincenzo walking in with a laptop in one hand and a gun in the other. His Bluetooth earpiece was connected to his left ear as he strutted towards my desk and dropped the laptop on it.

"Got a call from Luca saying he'd cleaned up the mess you've made on the 4th streets," he chimed and I scoffed, ignoring him and staring out the floor-to-ceiling Windows.

"That fucker shouldn't complain for something I pay him to do"

"Gotta say, you're leaving more dead bodies on the streets than you had in the last four years".

"The white waters of this city will be a pool of blood when I don't get Kiara back very soon" I said seriously.

"Look,". I could detect the utter frustration in Vincenzo's voice but it did nothing to tame the raging need for a bloodbath brewing within me the past two months. "I swear, I understand what you're feeling. Baby K is a daughter to me too and I'd do the exact same thing if it meant it'll protect her. But you're doing more damage than good here".

"I am not a good man"

"Carlos did nothing to you, but you slit his throat anyway"

"He was standing in my way"

"Do you even hear yourself?". I whipped my head around so fast and gave him a deadly glare.

"Watch what you say to me, Vin. I'm still your Capo". His face immediately dawns in realization and he lowered his head, his fist coming up to chest. He rapped his fist against his chest in silent apologize and I raised my head up high like the master that I was.

Best friend or not, I was still his capo. And nobody disrespects a fucking capo. But I knew Vincenzo, he would say his mind even if he respected me pass the mother that gave birth to him. And he did just that when he raised his head up and looked at me with a pitiful look I wanted to use my knife and carve off his face.

"You're killing more loyalties than royalties, Capo".

I bared my teeth at him like an animal, showing no remorse for the hell I will definitely put out there in the long run.

"And I will do so much more for every second Kiara is out there. The longer they keep her away from me, the harder I fuck them over from the inside out. More dead bodies would be on the streets and I will leave them out for the dogs to eat" I vowed viciously and Vincenzo's face contoured in a cringe, like he hadn't seen the worst of what I'd just said.

"They really did make a big mistake, didn't they?"

"A fucking big mistake".

Vincenzo's lips curled in a nasty smile and he shook his head before he lowered himself onto the seat across from my desk.

"Which is why I came up with a plan" he quipped and I frowned a little, leaning my hip lazily against my desk.

"What plan?"

"I'll fill you in, in a minute. Let's talk about Cyan for a second before that" he said and I instantly felt the vein in the neck raise.

Her name... it sounded so sweet coming from his lips. Too sweet for my liking. I flexed my arms and locked my jaws, trying to control myself from pouring acid on my best friend's tongue.

"What do you have?". He looked up at me and shook his head.

"Nothing"

"What do you mean nothing?" I asked with a deep frown on my face.

"I've searched through every database I can hack into and every possible way to decode her identity but I've got nothing. I have nothing on her. Not her age, the city she comes from, not even her last name. It's like she doesn't exist and as a man of some twisted shit, this is the creepiest game I've ever seen".

I refused to let him see my surprise.

"Not even her last name?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Yes. And if you ask me, this is entirely too coindental. She shows up in the midst of all of this, literally. So, it's either this is ominous or there's something she's not telling you".

I stayed silent for a moment, his words playing in a loop in my head and making too much sense. I rubbed the ring on my finger before I shook my head.

"No, Vin. You haven't seen the look in her eyes, there's no way she's fucking lying to me" I said determinedly.

Those eyes can never lie. Those deep pools of hazels had seen so much chaos that she'd started finding beauty in the darkest parts of life. But to be fair, who ever was conscious enough to know about to the Cosa Nostra would always only find beauty in darkness.

I looked at Vincenzo and asked.

"What is your plan?"

His lips curled up in a sick smile reminding me that he's still as twisted as I'd want him to be. Between the two of us, he'sstrongest in the emotions and feelings department while my mind only worked on either to own or to kill.

A theory I'd been battling with the past twelve hours since I'd laid my eyes on those pools of hazel.

"Its obvious that whoever has Kiara is trying to keep you on a leash. Though the way you're inevitably becoming a killing machine, its the most rational thing to do in the Cosa Nostra. So, we need to ambush them with something else. A surprise to make them falter in their steps so that we can be one step ahead of them".

"And that is?" I asked impatiently, raising an eyebrow.

His smile turned into a wide maniacal grin that I sometimes find unsettling.

"They've got eyes we don't see yet. So, you should have some fun with Cyan."

CYAN

I looked around the room the man had put me in, taking in the view of the blurry pond by the large glass window. It looked as if the room was located at the very end of the house. I sighed, bored out of my life. I looked down at the sweatshirt I was wearing. His sweatshirt.

Still smelt like blood and cigar. Not as appealing as any normal person would find but I concluded I wasn't a normal person when I fell in love with that scent. I swayed around in the middle of the room, playing a tune in my head that I wasn't so sure existed.

I danced around in the middle of the room with my eyes, feet gliding against the smooth floors. I knew it was a room but it felt more like a cage. So, why was I feeling so incredibly safe?

As I moved around with a joyless tune playing in my head, I suddenly hit a solid wall. A warm solid wall. Snapping my eyes open, my gaze immediately melt into a grey that I felt like I've known for decades and not just for twelve hours. His face is expressionless, and his composure was so calm and collected.

I just don't understand why someone can be so calm with the amount of chaos surrounding them.

My brains cells finally clicked into place and I looked down at my hands on his chest while his big warm arms gripped me by my elbows. I looked back up at him again and he doesn't look remotely close to being impressed.

"I can see you're having the time of your life" he mused boredly and I swallowed. I moved my arms around his grip, silently asking him to let me go and he slowly pried his fingers off my elbows.

"Sorry... I got bored" I said demurely and his jaws locked.

"Well, you shouldn't get too comfortable," he paused and took a step back away from me before he moved past me towards the window as he spoke his next words. "You won't be here for long".

I whipped my head around to look at him and my eyes fell on the carefully sculpted muscles of his impressive back, straining against his white shirt.

"Where are you taking me?" I forced the words out, reminding myself to be cautious of this man. He sucked in his teeth with a threatening hiss and the maniacal part of me took steps towards him slowly.

"I'm not taking you anywhere, you're going to leave my house. I've cartered enough for you and you should be on your way. I'm not known to be kind"

My steps faltered for a second and I realized I didn't even know what I was doing anymore. What was I doing here? Why was I still with this stranger? I had no where else to go, nothing else to do. I had no backstory, no plan, no nothing.

What is wrong with me? Why do I feel so at ease here? I had to do something.

"Please sir, I don't know where else to go" I pleaded, scurrying towards him. I pulled on his arm and that might've been the biggest mistake of my life. He turned around in super human speed and pulled me in between his strong body and glass window. I inhaled sharply when I saw the flames in his.

"Don't fucking touch me, Cara. Who are you?"

I looked at him innocently.

"I told you, my name is Cyan-"

"Don't you fucking lie to me or I swear I'll snap your neck" he threatened. To prove his point, he trailed his hand towards my neck and held it in a firm grip. With just one swift move from his wrist, I could drop dead at his feet. My eyes widened from this realization and my heart plummeted to my stomach.

The feeling in my stomach was unsettling.

"Who are you?" He asked in a deep, commanding tone and my throat bobbed underneath his thumb from the way that I swallowed uneasily.

"I am Cyan-"

"Don't" he warned and I instantly began shaking my head.

"I swear I am not lying to you. My name is Cyan"

"Where did you come from?"

The question played in a loop in my head and I closed my eyes briefly, my eyebrows furrowed in confusion when I can't remember where I came from. I tried to remember something, anything, but my mind was blurry and distorted.

"I..." I paused, opened my eyes and looked at him sincerely. "I don't remember"

"Cyan" he warned as he flexed his fingers around my neck. I whimpered helplessly and my eyes turned teary.

"I don't remember, I swear" I said in a helpless voice. Those damning grey eyes assessed me keenly before they found their way back to my eyes. Slowly, he pried his hand off my neck and I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. But, he held me captive between his body and the glass window. His eyes wandered my face and I felt the heat building up in my core. I thought it had been forever but it had just been a few damning moments before he looked at my eyes again. I would say I saw a flash of remorse in his eyes but I had only just imagined it.

"I need you to leave" he said finally in a very low voice that suggested he didn't mean what he said at all. I wasn't having it though. Stranger or not, I had no where else to go. Before I could go on my knees, I forced myself to stand on my feet as I pleaded with him.

"Please sir, please don't throw me out. I have no where else to go"

"I can't keep you"

"Yes! Yes you can! I can work for you, I'd pay for everything you give me until I find a place to stay and I'll be out of your life". Tears burned the back of my eyes and pooled over the surface.

"You can't pay me for anything. I have no job for you, Cara"

"Please," I began to cry and I held the sleeve of his shirt. "You're the only person I know in this city" I cried helplessly.

"And I can assure you, I'm the worst person you'll ever meet"

"Please," I cried, immensely loathing the idea of going back to the streets and helplessly looking for food and shelter. "Please, let me stay sir. I can clean, I can do anything for you. Just please let me stay. I'll pay you back for everything, I swear".

"What makes you think you can pay me back?" He asked in that low voice and I looked up at him with teary eyes. He gave me a dark look that burned through my skin.

"I'll have to own you to let you stay".

And just like that, I felt a cold chill racing down my spine. My throat closed up and my stomach churned but my tongue wasn't knotted enough to keep me from asking the daring question.

"Who are you?" I asked in a low whisper, dreading his response as hard as I was craving it.

He leaned in, a swirling scent of blood and cigar burning through my nostrils, and inched his face closer to mine. His face was so close to mine, I could count the tiny freckles dotting his flawless olive skin. His breath was hot as it fanned my dried lips.

"I am Roman Moretti, and I own this fucking city"