MOAN: The Cantonneli Mafia

by Sophia Gray

  I pulled a wad of dollar bills out of my purse and shoved them into the tip jar with a smile.

  The handsome bartender grinned at me. “You’re trouble,” he said before turning around to serve the hordes of people waiting.

  I smirked as I sipped my drink. Dad always objected to me having a social life, but he did always make sure I was flush with cash. We’d never wanted for money. I never asked too many questions about where my allowance money came from, but I’d always had the vaguely unpleasant suspicion that Dad was paying me off so I didn’t ask much more of him. It was only recently that I’d started trying to come to terms with my father’s…occupation.

  “Hey!” I glanced up to see Cassandra’s bright-white head careening towards me. Before I could get off the barstool, she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into a tight hug. Her grip was so strong I could barely breathe, but I was so glad to see her that I didn’t care.

  “Watch my drink!” I scolded playfully. “Girl, where the hell were you?”

  Cassandra snickered and tapped her nostril. I stared at the faint traces of white powder. “I was in the bathroom,” Cassandra said. She smirked at me, raising an eyebrow.

  After a few seconds, Gloria joined us. She was wearing a tight black dress that showcased her beautiful curves, and her hair was piled into a sexy, messy bun on top of her head. I grinned. My friends and I were obviously the hottest women at the club.

  “Hey girl,” Gloria said. She hugged me, but not as closely as Cassandra. “Miss you, how are things?”

  I shrugged. “Oh, you know,” I said, not wanting to go into the boring details of Life At Home With Dad. “They’re going.”

  Gloria nodded. “Rome was fucking sick,” she said excitedly. “You really should’ve come!”

  I forced myself to smile. “I know,” I said, shaking my head. “Next Samuele, for sure!”

  “Yeah, Melinda,” Cassandra said. “You would’ve loved it. Oh my god, the guys there were so hot.” She giggled. “I met this guy, what was his name?” She turned to Gloria, tapping her chin with her finger.

  “Armando!” Gloria chirped. She widened her eyes and grinned salaciously. “He was hung like a horse, too!”

  “Oh my god, Gloria,” Cassandra said, blushing even harder. “You can’t talk about that here!”

  My feeling of confidence was fading. I sighed, putting a hand to my forehead. I didn’t want to put a damper on the evening, but I couldn’t help but feel really left out when Cassandra and Gloria talked about all of the fun stuff they did without me.

  “Hey,” I said, finishing my orange cosmopolitan and slamming the glass down on the counter. “Let’s go dance.”

  Cassandra and Gloria didn’t need to be told twice. The three of us ran out into the center of the dance floor. Moving my body to the soulful rhythm of the music at Hurricanes, I closed my eyes and swayed my arms with my hips, feeling sexier and more confident than I had in ages.

  A guy came up to me and smiled. I smiled back and he started dancing closer to me, resting a hand on the curve of my waist. He was sexy, too – obviously Italian-American, with black, gelled hair and wild dark eyes. He was muscular and, like the bartender, he was wearing a tightly fitted white t-shirt. As he moved closer, I got a whiff of his cologne. It was heady and musky and overpowering, but I breathed it in, moving my body against his. I didn’t know this man, but I wanted to drown in him – I wanted to roll around and tangle up and kiss him.

  “Hey beautiful,” the guy whispered in my ear. “What’s your name?”

  I grinned. “I’m not telling,” I whispered back, pressing my ass against his crotch. He was wearing dark trousers that didn’t quite conceal the large erection he was sporting. As we moved together, he slid his hand across the flat expanse of my belly and rested it almost between my legs. The man’s warm fingers on my bare thighs filled me with arousal, and I arched my back, resting the back of my head on his shoulder.

  “I’m Giovanni,” the guy whispered in my ear. “You wanna go someplace more private?”

  I shook my head, then stepped forward and shimmied to the beat of the music. “No,” I called back. “Let’s stay here and dance!”

  Giovanni stepped up behind me once again. He slid his hands down the sides of my body and grabbed onto my hips, holding them like handlebars. I wriggled and moved against his body, twisting to the rhythm of the music. Just when I felt like we had something really good going on, Giovanni grabbed my hand and pulled me off the dance floor. He was much stronger than I was – his strong grip was actually hurting my fingers. Crying out, I tried to yank my arm back but Giovanni was faster. He swept me up in his arms, then pressed me against the wall and covered my mouth with his.

  At first, the kiss was sexy. Giovanni’s tongue flicked over my lips and I moaned softly, parting my lips and letting him enter. But then he shoved me rudely against the matte black concrete. Giovanni’s muscular thigh drove my legs apart and he pressed his leg against my crotch. I groaned, trying to push him away. When he dipped his head to kiss me again, I tried to push him away.

  “Hey,” I grunted. “I told you – I’m not interested. I only wanna dance!”

  Giovanni smirked, leaning in close and nipping at my lower lip. His cologne wasn’t sexy to me anymore – now it was just overpowering. The only thing I could smell was feral musk, and alarm bells started sounding in my head as Giovanni’s hands slid down my satin-clad body.

  Suddenly, he leapt back. A muscular arm appeared, flying through the air. A fist connected with Giovanni’s cheek and he went stumbling backwards, shrieking like a small child. When he glanced up, I saw blood dripping from both of his nostrils.

  Relief and gratitude filled my body and I sighed, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand. But when I realized who my savior was, my happiness drained from me like air from a punctured balloon.

  Alexander Rex, the son of James Rex, was standing in front of me with a cocky grin. He looked exactly the same as he had the last Samuele I’d seen him – blond, handsome, muscular. But there was a gleam in his eye like he knew something I didn’t, and the cruel twist of his lips let me know he thought I was a worthless little slut.

  Alexander’s dad, James, was a rival of my father’s. They both controlled sections of Wilmington, but lately the tension had been escalating. I was shocked that Alexander had come to my rescue. It wasn’t like him. An uneasy feeling washed over me as I realized that he’d done it for a reason…he expected something in return.

  “Come on, Melinda,” Alexander said, sneering in my face. “I bet Daddy would just love to know where you’ve been.”

  I bit my lip and shook my head. “You don’t own me,” I said, shaking my head. Tangles of brown hair landed on my shoulders. “You can’t tell me what to do!”

  Alexander shook his head. Before I could dart away to the safety of the dance floor, his fingers wrapped around my upper arm and he pulled me close. “You’re a real little spitfire,” Alexander said, breathing whiskey in my face. I wrinkled my nose and turned my head to the side, desperate for fresh oxygen. “You know that, Melinda?”

  I glared at him. “You don’t get to tell me what to do,” I said, pouting and turning my chin to the side. “You’re not the boss of me.”

  Alexander burst out laughing. “This is fuckin’ rich,” he said. “Come on, you’re coming home.”

  Alexander tightened his grip around my arm. Before I could stop or even fight him, he was dragging me out of the club. Other club-goers were watching me with sympathy. I could practically read their minds: “Oh, look, that little girl pissed off her boyfriend again. He looks really mad, too!”

  I rolled my eyes. When we got outside, I yanked my arm free and pulled my coat on. Alexander jerked his head to the side and started walking at a brisk pace. For a moment, I debated running back inside and grabbing Cassandra and Gloria. Sure, they were both tiny…but the three of us stood a better chance against Alexander than I did by myself.

  “What the hell are
you waiting for?” Alexander yelled, whirling around on the sidewalk and throwing his hands up in the air. “You need me to fuckin’ carry you, bitch? Is that it?”

  I recoiled. My hand itched to slap Alexander across the face, but I knew that even though he was the son of my dad’s business rival, there would still be punishment for me if I lashed out. Instead, I crossed my arms across my chest and glared. “You really don’t have to do this,” I said icily, sashaying past Alexander and pulling a pack of cigarettes out of my clutch. “I don’t need you telling me how to behave!”

  Alexander’s blue eyes flashed fire. Before I could move, he grabbed me and slammed me against a cold brick wall. Knocking the cigarette from my hand, Alexander crushed it into a thousand little pieces on the pavement with the toe of his leather oxford shoe. “Don’t you act like you’re so cool,” Alexander sneered. “Rebelling in front of me, running away from Daddy?” He raised his eyebrows and I saw true, genuine anger in his blue eyes. “Don’t you think, Melinda? Don’t you ever fucking think about what would happen if something happened to you?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Since when do you care?” I said hotly. “It’s not like you give a damn about me! You just want a reward, Alexander!”

  Alexander leaned close, bending over and pressing his forehead against mine. “You don’t get to fuck with me, little girl,” he sneered. “So don’t even fucking try, you got that?”

  With a sigh, I rolled my eyes and tilted my head up so I wouldn’t have to look in his eyes anymore. It was exhausting standing there in cold, feeling like a criminal even though I’d done nothing wrong. And while I was technically grateful that Alexander had knocked that other guy off of me in the club, I hated the way he was so smug about it.

  “What’s a princess like you doing out in a shithole like this, anyway?” Alexander said, gesticulating wildly in the air. “Aren’t you too precious to be in such a nasty club?”

  I glared at him. I wasn’t about to tell him that I hated being treated like I was made out of glass, or spun sugar. It wasn’t any of Alexander’s business.

  I poked my nose up in the air.

  “Princess, I asked you a fuckin’ question,” Alexander snarled in my face. “What the hell are you playing at, anyway?”

  I sighed. “I’m not giving you a reason why,” I told him quietly. “I don’t owe you anything, Alexander.”

  Alexander clicked his tongue and shook his head, mocking me. “Well,” he said slowly, “I think Daddy’s gonna be awful curious to know where you’ve been. Hell,” he added, smirking at me, “I think I could tell him myself.”

  I swallowed. “Tell him,” I said, tilting my head to the side. “See if I care.”

  Alexander leaned even closer. I could smell the whiskey on his breath, and he seemed to be wearing the same pungent cologne that I’d smelled on Giovanni back at the club.

  “I’ll tell you what,” he said slowly. He licked his lips as he lowered his head and stared at my breasts. Suddenly, I regretted that push-up bra. “I’ll keep my mouth shut if you open yours nice and wide for me. How does that sound, Melinda?”

  I cringed – the way he said my name made it sound like a curse word.

  “No way,” I said, shaking my head. “You think I’m gonna blow you just because you caught me at a club downtown?” I forced myself to laugh. “You’re fucking crazy, Alexander.”

  I gasped as Alexander slammed me harder against the wall, forcing the air out of my lungs.

  “Yeah,” Alexander said. “That’s what I fuckin’ thought. I’m gonna have to tell Rodrigo Cantonneli that his daughter was out at a nasty club, acting like the biggest slut in town.”

  “If you lay one hand on me,” I hissed, “my father will cut your balls off so quickly you won’t even have Samuele to say goodbye.”

  For a moment, Alexander looked stunned. I inwardly congratulated myself on his wide eyes and open mouth. But seconds later, he threw his head back and hooted with laughter.

  “That’s a real good one.” He rolled his eyes. “Come on,” he added. “I’m taking you home before you get into even more trouble.”

  “I wasn’t in any trouble,” I insisted as Alexander grabbed my wrist and started dragging me down the street. With his long legs, his stride was a full length longer than mine, and I had to practically run in my heels so I wouldn’t fall over. Now that the excitement of Hurricanes was fading, tendrils of pain shot up my legs every Samuele my platform pumps clicked against the pavement. My satin dress was painfully tight, and I was feeling a little dehydrated from my wild dancing and strong drink.

  Alexander’s car, a gleaming red hulk of a convertible, was parked carelessly on the street corner. He got inside and revved the engine before I could even climb in, and for a moment I hoped he’d drive off and forget all about me. But as soon as I was seated, he reached across me and buckled me into the sumptuous leather seat.

  “Gotta protect the investment,” Alexander muttered under his breath as the belt clicked into place. “Can’t go hurting that.”

  I glared at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  Alexander snickered. “Shut up, Melinda,” he said dismissively as he put the car into gear and peeled away from the curb.

  Thankfully, his car was so loud that we couldn’t hold a conversation. I sat with my chin propped up in my hand, elbow resting on my knee, as Alexander snaked his car through the empty streets of Wilmington. I was surprised to see my home city so quiet – such a contrast after the pulsing atmosphere at Hurricanes.

  When we pulled up in my neighborhood, I saw that Marty’s car was gone from the front of my house. Rolling my eyes, I put my hand on the door and was just about to climb out when Alexander grabbed my shoulder and shoved me back against the seat.

  “What the hell?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. “This is my house, remember? I’m getting out now.”

  Alexander licked his lips. He stared at me hungrily, as if just noticing me for the first Samuele. Whatever gratitude I’d felt towards him vanished.

  “Remember who saved you tonight,” Alexander said in a dark voice. He grabbed my chin and pulled my face close to his. For a horrible moment, I thought he was going to kiss me. But instead, he stared at my complexion, letting his eyes wander all over my face.

  “What?” I mumbled. “What do you want?”

  Alexander snickered. He dropped my face, then put his hand back on the wheel. “You shouldn’t wear so much foundation, Melinda,” he said coolly. “It makes you look about ten years older than you really are.”

  Red-faced with anger, I climbed out of the car. Just as I was about to slam the door, I heard a loud smack. Pain stung my ass and I cried out, jumping a foot into the air.

  Seething, I spun around and slammed the door behind me. Alexander grinned then sped off with his tires squealing

  Chapter 2

  Melinda

  The windows of my house were all dark, and I was praying Dad had gone to bed. I kicked off my shoes and then, clutching them in one hand, opened the front door as quietly as I could. The foyer was dark, and the marble felt cold and almost damp against the soles of my bare feet.

  Just as I was about to start climbing up the stairs, a light clicked on. Dad was sitting in the kitchen, at the table, staring at me. There was a snifter of cognac in front of him, but he was clearly sober. “Melinda,” Dad said slowly. “Come in here.”

  I winced. Dad didn’t have to yell to make me afraid – in fact, it was usually the opposite. Whenever he was angry, I could always tell because of how quiet he became.

  “Hi, Dad,” I said nervously as I sat down at the kitchen table. I felt like a completely different woman from the sassy, confident girl I’d been back at Hurricanes. Now, my tight satin dress and heels just felt like a costume, like I was a child playing dress-up.

  “Melinda,” Dad said heavily. “We’ve been over this.” He glared at me. “Tell me exactly where you went.”

  I sighed. “Dad, I just went out to meet C
assandra and Gloria,” I said, trying to keep my voice at a normal pitch. I was so sick of defending my actions to my father, and I was even sicker of feeling terrified every Samuele he spoke to me in that deadly quiet voice.

  “I don’t care,” Dad said. He took a long sip of his cognac, like I was the one driving him to drink.

  “Well, you asked where I went,” I said hotly. “What did you expect?” I glanced down at my dress. “That I went out for cheeseburgers?”

  “I care where you went,” he said, his words falling like rocks. “But, Melinda, you cannot keep disobeying me like this.” He sighed. “You’re my princess, my baby girl. If something happened to you…” I watched as his grip tightened on the snifter. “If something happened to you, I would not know how to deal with the pain.”