Sinful Desires: Taming The Cold Mafia Lord

GIULIA

I kept peeking behind me as I dashed down the busy streets of Madrid. Most of the pedestrians gave me curious looks as I weaved through them. My heart was thumping violently in my chest. I was sweating, but that was the least of my problems.

I knew there was no way those monsters could have tracked me from the States to Spain, but I couldn't help my intrusive thoughts.

I securely gripped my purse, clutching it to myself to discourage pickpockets. The minute I left the airport, I went to a Bureau de Change to get my currency changed from Dollar to Euro. I only had 700 Euros with me, and I hoped to use it sparingly.

I intended to find a motel that wouldn't cost more than £3. If that was possible. I didn't mind living in a rat-infested place until I got a job, which didn't sound like something that would have happened anytime soon.

"Sorry!" I apologized to a man I crashed into when I turned to look over my shoulders. It was getting late, and I had found no cheap motel. I had only seen one for £9. Too bad none of them wanted to give me any discount.

"Watch where you are going, chap!" he growled at me. Luckily, he didn't communicate in Spanish like the one I knocked into an hour ago.

"Oh, you can speak English?" I beamed at him, trying to strike up a conversation.

The man's eyes took me in. He started from my red hair, down my 5 foot 6 inches body before he fastened his grey eyes on my honey-brown ones. "Mind where you are going!" he snapped angrily before he turned and hurried down the road.

"Huh?" I flipped my hair back. He should be thrilled someone beautiful tried to chat with him!

I turned and proceeded down the street. I steered clear of alleys. No matter where you are, the States, Europe, Africa, Asia, Australia or bloody Antarctica, you need to be vigilant of the dark.

Striding down the streets, I kept pondering what to do. Should I return to that £9 motel? But that would cause a dent in my pocket!

There was no freaking way in hell I would do that!

My tummy rumbled the moment I walked past a bistro. I placed my right hand on my belly, glaring daggers at it.

With a frown, I traipsed over to a grocery store. I smiled at the security guy by the door, and he muttered words in Spanish that I didn't quite catch.

With a nod, I strode in. I didn't bother with a basket or trolley. Since I was trying to save some cash, I planned to just get two energy bars for the night and the following morning.

Tomorrow, I will start job hunting.

I knew it would be challenging to get a job with my high school degree, but it would be more challenging because of the language impediment. I couldn't speak shit when it came to Spanish. (Well, I could perfectly say "Hola")

I smiled at the few people in the aisle as I scurried over to the shelves that housed what I needed.

"Shit!" I planted both hands on my waist and glared hard at the bars that were beyond my reach.

Who the hell instructed them to stack items up so high?!

Weren't they aware that there could be short people who wanted something from the top? Could it be that they only kept it for tall people?

Hmph!

I would have given them a proper tongue-lashing had I been eloquent in their language. It would be more like splashing water on a rock should I grumble now.

Groaning, I rose on tiptoe to take it, but I couldn't reach it.

"Fuck you!"

I jumped, only to miss my step. A soul-shattering shriek wrenched from my gut as I helplessly flayed my arms. I expected to fall flat on the floor with my bones broken and my beautiful pearly dentition broken or dislodged.

One, two, three...

I gasped, clutching my eyes tight as I resigned myself to fate, only to feel something strong against my lower back.

I gradually opened my eyes when I felt the warmth on the side of my body and arse. My eyes locked with that of an unfamiliar man. They trailed down his face, noting the scar that ran down the right part of his face and his clenched jaw. He had his brown hair up in a man bun. The long lashes fanning his cheekbones accomplished...

Wait a fucking minute! Where the hell were his fingers clutching?

"Pervert!" I yelled at him, pushing him away from me with all the strength I could muster. I staggered the moment he let go but righted my posture. "Do you think you can cup a touch because I was in a desperate situation, huh?" I pointed at him.

"What the hell are you talking about?" He narrowed his eyes at me, looking like he was barely holding himself from snapping. His eyes darkened. For a minute, it seemed like I was staring into the crevasse.

"Why did you touch my arse?!" I yelled at him, not mindful of the attention we were getting.

He folded his arms, still glowering coldly. He didn't speak a word, but his eyes gave out most of his thoughts.

"Fuck you!" I grabbed the nearest energy bar, ignoring the ones I was trying to take. "Out of all the places to grab, why must it be my arse?! What a flagrant pervert!"

My eyes trailed his body. I started from his head and down to his toes, noting his tight abs that were trying to shred his black turtleneck off -just kidding. The black slacks he had on did nothing to obscure the heavy outline between his legs. Had this been a normal circumstance, I would have eyeballed him. However, the man in front of me was a handsome weirdo!

"What the fuck are you saying? I was just trying to help-"

"Never say that help word around me, pervert! Keep your damn hands to yourself!"

Snapping at him, I indignantly matched to the cash point, paid for the energy bars I picked up, and stomped out of the convenience store still pissed at him. What awful luck to meet someone like him!

MARK

"This isn't all." For the second time, I grabbed the bundle of cash on the table, threw it up, and promptly caught it midair. "You're lying. This isn't all."

The idiot, who stood by the fireplace with his palms clasped before him, laughed nervously.

"Boss, that's all."

I sighed and leaned better into the chair, so my head could rest on the pillowy boobs of the lady I was to spend the night with. She promptly weaved her fingers into my hair and began to massage my scalp.

The room was dark-I had ordered all the lights to be turned off-because it was better to think in the dark, and I didn't want to miss the natural glow from the sky.

The embers in the fireplace combined beautifully with the glow from the moon to give the sitting room just the amount of light sufficient for me.

"Kenzo," I called out softly. A figure materialized from the dark and stood before me. The room became pin-drop silent.

"Yes, boss. You called me." A dark handsome man with a few scars on his face - his pride- bowed to me the moment he stepped out from the shadows.

"Make him speak."

"No boss!" the idiot looked to the side and stepped forward to escape Kenzo who had reached out for him. He dropped to his knees, tears immediately streaming down his cheeks. "Please, I will talk. Please..."

With a flick of my finger, I signalled Kenzo to stop.

"I can hear you."

The lady behind me struck a match. I heard the familiar sound and saw the momentary orange that temporarily lit up the room before the relaxing smell hit me.

One hand caressed my chest as she fed me a stick of cigarette with the other. After two puffs, I could feel my nerves slowly relaxing.

"I said I can hear you," I reminded.

I could see his face. He had a mixture of fear, shame, regret, excuses, and more fear. It was a look I had seen so many times, a look that often accompanied them to the afterlife, and... I was interested in this one.

Because I was bored.

Exactly.

I had nothing to do. Aside from drawing plans and organizing my empire, which was frankly intoxicating, I lived a very boring life.

"My wife," the idiot started (pardon me, I don't know his name). "She is in the hospital... Colon cancer." He stopped to hiccup. His hands trembled. "I only took out a couple hundred."

"Only?" I scoffed, wisps of smoke crowding around my face. It was getting warm now.

"No, no! I didn't mean it that way." On his knees, he straightened. "I swear, I was going to return it on the next statement."

"What do I always tell you guys?" I asked in a bland tone.

His breath hitched for a moment. Then in a whisper, he said, "To always run through the amounts before coming to make a statement before you."

"Not only did you steal from me, you didn't say anything when you brought this." I tossed the bundle again. "You should have made this pathetic explanation the moment you walked in, maybe I might have been pacified a little."

"This will never happen again," he promised amidst the tears streaming down his cheeks. "This will be the first and the last time. I promise, boss."

"Of course, this will never happen again." I sat up, picked up the gun on the centre table where I had been resting my leg, cocked it, and pointed it at the kneeling man. "Extend my regards to the people of the other side."

"No!" He tightly shut his eyes and stumbled back. I pressed the trigger. The sweet girl behind me gasped. The usual vibration in my palm did not happen, and the weight felt very light (I was just taking note of this now).

"You are one lucky fucker, aren't you?" I smirked at him and got to my feet, then grabbed the incomplete bundle and tossed it to him. "Report back for your statement by 6 tomorrow. You won't be lucky then."

"Oh my God!" He bowed with his face touching the floor and grabbed my leg, almost kissing my feet. "I swear, boss, I won't take this for granted!"

"I hope you don't." I shrugged off his hold on my leg and started for the stairs. "Kenzo?"

"Yes, boss."

I don't know why people always choose to be stupid. I loathe it when someone tries to play me, and they know that.

And times without number, I always warned them not to steal from me, because I'd know, but most of them took my words as mere threat. And they paid for it with their life. That idiot would have joined the list if the gun wasn't empty.

Crazy motherfuckers thought they could steal from me.

Every weekend, I get a personal statement from each of my boys, both old and young (some don't even stay around me), to ascertain how productive their sales were, and to know who didn't meet the target.

It was already clear the products they transport and sell.

"I'm going for a walk," I said to Kenzo while throwing on a coat. "I need to clear my head." From the full mirror in front of me, his eyes lost their shine.

"Boss, are you okay?" he asked in concern.

What a loyal guy. He was the only one I can boast of.

"I'm fine. I'll be back shortly. Look after the boys."

*~*~*~*~*~*

My feet led me to the store, straight for a shelf I hadn't been to for a long time... The chocolate section.

June used to love it whenever I got her small gifts like-

"Fuck," I murmured to myself and turned into the aisle. I saw a figure yelp and tried clinging to the top before my brain processed what was happening.

I rushed forward, catching her before she painfully collided with the floor.

She felt so petite in my arms. I could see her eyes widen in shock as she tried to decipher why she hadn't hit the floor yet.

Then our eyes met for a brief moment. She had the most beautiful red hair I'd ever seen, instantly reminding me of June's uncle-sorry, husband.

And her brown eyes were just like June's-

Fuck!

"Pervert!"

Huh?

I let her go immediately. She bounced back and rattled out some nonsense about grabbing her arse because she needed help.

Good lord, she was causing a scene!

"What the fuck are you saying? I was just trying to help-" I tried defending myself, but she cut in again. For a feisty lady, she was beautiful, maybe too beautiful to cause such fuss over nothing.

She screamed into my face, still calling me a pervert and saying I had better keep my hands to myself.

Maybe I should have done just that.

Just when I thought it wasn't going to end, she grabbed some items and stormed off to the counter.

What the fuck??

GUILIA

Fucking arse hole!

I gritted my teeth, trudging down the street, still thinking of that weirdo. Grumbling, I shoved what I purchased into my purse. I would have to eat that when I got to the place I would spend the night in.

My stomach rumbled, but I ignored it. It wasn't as if this was the first time I had gone hungry for the entire day. My foster parents frequently starved me whenever I did something they warned me against.

And did it work? Of course, not. Mary, most times, laughed at how willful I was. A pity she never fully got to know why I was that way.

Halfway down the streets, my eyes landed on a neon light. 'De Parish Bar.'

Huh?

I frowned at the long line of people waiting at the door to be ushered in. I peered around the place, noting how deserted it was. In my angry state, I didn't realize where I was heading. It seemed I left the road I took to the convenience store, for the one behind it.

I grimaced as a certain thought came to mind. I touched my purse. The bars I bought cost a freaking £5. Yet, there I was, thinking of exhausting more on liquors when I still hadn't found a place to crash.

I couldn't tell how long I remained there before I marched towards the queue that had gotten smaller. Thankfully, I just turned eighteen a month ago. Otherwise, they would have kicked me to the curb. And it all would have been the fault of that rotten pervert!

The last man in line cast an inquisitive glance at me. I squinted and he promptly turned, narrowly whipping my face with his long, black hair.

Hmph!

The line got shorter until it got to my turn. The bouncer said something in Spanish, and I brought my ID card out, not understanding a word he spoke. He frowned as he took the card from me, and spoke words in their language, which I shrugged to.

God help me. Should I get through a week in this place, I would seek the nearest church to give a testimony of survival.

He gave my ID back to me and expressed further hasty terms before he gestured for me to step in.

"Phew," I sighed as I stuffed the ID back into my purse. With a smile at the boisterous man, who looked like he could crush me with those meaty palms of his, I hurried into the bar.

I blanched the minute I walked in. It was quiet out there until you stepped in. The thundering noise coming from the speakers was on a mission -to shatter eardrums.

I hadn't been to a bar before, so it was a spectacle for me. From my position at the door, my eyes took in the dancers gyrating to the rhythm of the rock.

"This looks like fun." I nodded, a bit used to the deafening music as I sought the bar which I found at the right corner of the room, and I made a beeline for it.

I weaved through the sweaty dancers until I got to my destination. I had a plan in mind; to get drunk, rock until I drop, and crash there for the night. The following day, I would inquire if they need any workers.

Who knows, I might be lucky.

Ludicrous enough, the music wasn't loud in this part of the room. I could still sense the reverberation, but not that loud.

The moment I sat on the barstool, a bartender turned to me, beaming handsomely. His black eyes were so fascinating that I gawked into them, enthralled by the pretty orbs.

He uttered something in Spanish, bringing my attention back to the present. I nodded at him, despite not knowing what he said.

He repeated his words once more and when I nodded, he exhaled. "You didn't understand me, did you?" he asked with a precise command of my language.

I responded with a smile. "That's right! Pardon me. I haven't been here for long, so..."

"It's alright. I've seen my fair share of people like you. What would you like to have? Cocktails?"

"The cheapest beer you have."

"What?" He stared, stunned at my order. Perhaps he was expecting me to mention an expensive drink or something like that.

"The cheapest beer, man. I still need to save." I placed both hands on the counter and beamed at him. "How much will that be?"

"... Um... A caña of cheap beer is £3. You can-"

I snorted at the figure. "What? Are you freaking kidding me right now? Are you trying to rip me? How the hell could that be-"

"Get a cocktail for her. The most expensive one. I will pay," a voice said behind me.

"Right at it." The bartender went to work promptly.

I turned to look at the person who had just spoken. A middle-aged guy sat on the bar stool next to me. He had his brown hair slicked back with sufficient gel to last me a lifetime. He would have looked okay with his amber iris and pointed nose had it not been for his partially burnt face.

I smiled politely to mask the gasp I would have let out. After all, he purchased a drink for me.

"Hi."

"I'm Eric, and you?" He brought his hand out for a shake.

My eyes went to his outstretched palm and lingered on it for a minute before I brought mine out. "I'm Mary," I lied through my teeth, smiling at him.

Please forgive me, Mary. There was no way I could tell someone like him my real name. I was still running from my foster parents after all.

"What a lovely name for a beautiful damsel." He let go of my palm and brought his chair closer. "Can we get to know each other?" He grinned as he placed his palm on mine.

".... Of course!" I forced out, yanking my hand back as if his hand scorched it.

"Perfect, we can get to know each other after your drink comes. I own a VIP section here. We can go there later, love." As he spoke, his hand crept to my back, only to have him place it on my rear.

I forced a smile and tactfully removed it. My patience was at its peak.

"Come on, you don't have to be modest. I know girls like you. We can have a lot of fun." He tried to touch me again, but I slapped his hands off me.

"What the fuck!" I stood up from the barstool. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Someone who's going to screw you hard before the end of the night," he stated flatly, eyes fastened on my boobs, which were thankfully concealed by the Hawaii shirt I was putting on.