What a strange game is this pool chicken fight...AstaghfirAllah.
It's not long before a familiar overbearing masculine voice cuts the game short. A voice that immediately sets my nerves on a dreadful edge.
"What the fūck are you both doing ?!" Vladimir stands in disbelief and rage, at the edge of the pool.
He pockets his sun glasses in his immaculate blazer. An ever austere looking Huxley stands behind him.
"I ordered you both to depart for McKinley shipyard an hour ago.You should be on aboard the chopper right now!" He seethes. "Was I not explicitly crystal fūcking clear on the plan?"
The girls immediately slide off from the alert men's shoulder, biting their bottom lips guiltily as they exit the pool.
Vladimir aims his bone chilling glare in Grigori's direction. "I'd expect such tardiness from Serge but not you. Uncle would be most displeased to learn of your absence in today's heist."
"You don't need to tell father." Grigori scowls slightly. "And he won't know."
"You're daft enough to believe there aren't other informants amongst the bratva?" Vladimir's clipped tone underlines with irritation. "With the expansion of the Molotov empire arrives a surplus of recruits, aiming to reach uncle as kissups. One of these days certain lap pets might just be replacements of your positions. You think uncle would give a fūck about you being his son? Should this fūckery continue, he'd discharge you to a lower rank with the snap of his fingers ."
The men begin swimming towards the edge of the pool. But Vladimir interjects. "You buffoons should stay, I don't have time to waste on you both readying yourselves. Huxley and I can manage. Albeit, under such last minute change of plans and a high inevitability of shįt hitting the fan very quick ."
But right before he turns to leave, Ilona creeps up in haste behind him. Her huge breasts bouncing up and down, the small patches of cloth ready to slip away from her nipples.
And it all occurs so fast that I barely have the time to register in my mind when she shoves Vladimir off balance. The girls next to me gasp. He topples forward and splashes into the pool.
"Who the fūck did that?!" He roars in mind numbing rage as swiftly he resurfaces without much effort.
"I did !" She snaps. " You ásshole! You fūcking ásshole!! You promised to wine and dine me today! But here you are sneaking off again to your fūcking Mafia shįt like you did yesterday!!"
"Calm your tits...Ilona." He utters in a disquieting tone. "And I mean it in a literal sense..you're on the verge of a nip slip...infront of men other than me."
"Ásshole!!" She screams in fury. "I'll wear whatever the fūck I want! And I'll shake my tits however I want!"
She does as she promises. Flopping her boobs with her hands and hopping up and down with an added effort to prove her point.
The rest of the men avert their gazes from her clownish behaviour. While Katie palms her face, Bev is grinning widely.
"Don't fūcking change the topic Vladimir!" Ilona screeches like a wild cat. "You stood me up yesterday and you are doing it again!I don't deserve such vile treatment!!"
While she's throwing a barrage of insults and accusatory remarks at him, he exits the pool quietly and strides towards her within a matter of seconds.
He peers down at her with a level of mild disinterest.
"You're an ásshole of the highest degree imaginable, and here I'll fūcking shake my gorgeous tits agai-"
For the second time today, a loud deafening smack pierces the humid air. Ceasing this time, Ilona's words short.
The girls including myself gasp, while the other three men look away elsewhere again.
Vladimir has back handed her, Ilona's body goes flying and shatters through into the surface of the pool.
She quickly splashes through the barrier of water and splutters. "Y-you y-you hit me?! You hit me!!!! You hit a woman!!!"
He turns his back towards her and offers her a side glance. "Put on some decent clothes and behave properly for me, love." He orders with finality.
Then he motions for the three men to follow, as she's left there staring at him in complete shock and disbelief.
Chapter 16
"I've ran out of a certain yarn." Mrs.Agnelli discloses in disappointment as she continues rummaging through her dresser drawers. "I wasn't aware how nice the shade would look otherwise I would have bought extras!"
It was made apparent to me a few days ago, that not only was Mrs.Agnelli an excellent cook but also possessed exceptional skills with sewing,knitting and crocheting.
At present, I was reclining on her bed while digging into a bowl of fruit salad with a peaceful Charlie. Haruki the cat serenely purred at my folded legs. I was awaiting Mrs.Agenlli to show me how to embroider, an art I developed a new found interest in while my stay here.
A week had gone past, and it was yet again Sunday. I didn't think I'd last more than a week at the Nielsen manor. Truthfully, I had consequently expected to be dead by now and reported for missing. Since last Sunday when Rachael had revealed to the dastard of my departure in three months time, I had fortunately been allowed some reprieve.
But then again, the last I saw of him was when he dealt his horrible girlfriend a wallop to the face near the poolside. Then he took off on a helicopter from the estates mini airport facility. An entire week had passed and there was no sign of his return, nor of the other three men. And ofcourse nor of his girlfriend.
I wouldn't blame her, he was just as horrible as her, if not more so. And as horrible as she is, she didn't deserve to be mistreated like that. No woman deserved that.
Well...perhaps she did deserve it, for being dimwitted enough to be involved with such a perilous man in the first place.
What woman in her right mind would commence and remain in a relationship with a demon like him?
Certainly not me! No matter how dangerously attractive or wealthy.
With a diabolically insane mentality as his, I bet even the jinns are afraid of him!
It took nearly three days to brush aside in the recesses of my mind, that disturbing kitchen encounter I shared with him.
Infact all through out the week, my senses were on constant alert as soon as I stepped out of the safety of my room.
Fearing that somehow or someway he'd corner me again and attempt to murder me. Should it occur the next time around, I wouldn't be so lucky enough to survive.
The rest of the household went about their usual business without any worries. Katie attended University and would arrive home with Rachael in the evening. They would pick up Arielle from her private school along the way.
They were always heavily guarded by a couple of angry looking mafia members of this so-called Molotov empire when they commuted out. Bev didn't reside with the Nielsens, she was normally a weekend visitor along with Serge and Grigori.
Through out the week, no one in the household displayed any concern over the men's whereabouts. As if it was a usual routine part of their work, which it could very likely be.
I didn't bother questioning either. Since early on, the Nielsens and their longtime employed servants had expressed disapproval for probing of familial Mafia affairs by those excluded from the family.
To be sincere, as much as I was curious, my curiosity didn't override my need to depart the premises as soon as I could. Albeit it had been only a slow dragging week, I have begun marking off the dates of the calendar in anticipation of my 19th birthday.
Ofcourse I was still disheartened of utilizing a dying mans wealth in the future and have kept him in my most profound supplications ever since.
"It's alright, you can demonstrate with any regular yarn." I assure Mrs.Agnelli while chewing on a plump raspberry. "Since its only for beginners."
She continues rummaging through each drawer over again. "That yarn was a regular one, the rest I own are quite pricey brands. That one was not only inexpensive, but also a very nice rich hue of blue! Almost the colour of Vladimir's eyes."
Upon her mention of his name my mou
th turns sour. No amount of the sweet fruit's presence in it would abate the sudden change of flavour.
Yet the reminder of his beautiful eyes with varying blue shades of emotions in their darkening depths, muddles my mind in an overdrive.
His eyes were just too beautiful to belong to him. I felt uneasy suddenly. My cheeks heating up in shame considering my thoughts nearly crossed a shameless boundary.
Why am I thinking of how nice his eyes are?
He's my enemy !
Mrs.Agnelli abruptly pauses rummaging and looks towards me. "Would you be willing to accompany me to the Fabric shops, it won't be long!"
Hoping she doesn't notice my reddened face, I clear my throat and offer a prompt agreement without objection. " Sure, I'd like to!"
We leave Charlie and an angered Haruki with Anya and Lorna, before departing in Duffield's limo. George the security guard Rachael had fired in misunderstanding and then rehired, accompanies us for protection.
Along the way, all three of us fall into happy chatter over Haruki and Rachael's children whom were getting very close to my heart. We make a stop two hours later in the city at a huge bustling fabric shop.
After 20 minutes of search with no luck, Mrs.Agnelli, George and I return to the limo. We make two more stops at different fabric shops, returning again to the limo without any trace of finding Mrs.Agnelli's favorite yarn.
"Don't you have a picture of the yarn in your phone?" Duffield asks from behind the opened slot of the drivers compartment.
"I'll be picking up Rachael and Arielle from the corporations soon and this limo will need to have space enough for a couple of Mister Molotov's men."
"Oh unfortunately I don't but I do have Vladimir's photo in my phone and I've shown it around to the shopkeepers and they don't have the yarn I look for!" Mrs.Agnelli replies nimbly.
"How does Mister Nielsen's photo correlate with your yarn hunt?" George asks in bewilderment and Duffield agrees.
"Because it's almost the colour of Vladimir's eyes." Mrs.Agnelli beams with a knowing smile.
Both the men burst out laughing. I offer a miffed Mrs.Agnelli an assuring pat on the arm.
"Well I'll be damned! Doubt a yarn exists close enough to an eye colour as unique as Mister Nielsens!" George amuses in the front of the limo.
"What ever may be the case, we have one more shop to go and then I'll drop you all off at the manor before returning to the city." Duffield concludes, as he starts the limo.
Infront of the last shop, I spot an ice cream vendor. I hadn't had ice cream in a long time. I end up buying an Oreo cookie ice cream sandwhich and take a bite of cold sweetness as we make our way to the shop.
But I'm stopped at the entrance since no food or open beverages were allowed in. Mrs.Agnelli and George offer to wait outside for me to finish my ice cream. I only usher them to go on in without me while I return to the limo.
After all, ice cream should be licked, nibbled and enjoyed slowly, not gobbled down unless someone was in it for a brain freeze!
"You know.." Duffield begins after about six minutes of peaceful silence. "..he's not that bad of a person.."
"Who's not that bad?" I ask as I quickly unwrap the remaining portion of ice cream cookie. Despite the AC on full blast, the cookie was melting in the warmth of my hands. I wasn't interested in making a mess of the limo's spotless seats.
"You know..Mister Nielsen.." Duffield replies in caution. "He's not as bad as you might consider him to be."
My posture stiffens as the ice cream suddenly appears unappetizing. "What do you mean he's not bad?"
My brows knit in a frown. "As you saw along with others, he's already made his malicious motives clear about me."
"Yes I saw..but I don't understand why-I mean he's not been rude to any guests so far since you. He may come across detached and indifferent but never rude to any guests or strangers unless they were his and his family's sworn enemies." Duffield expounds earnestly.
"Oh yes, I'm still considered an enemy after helping out Rachael." I prompt with dry sarcasm. "And how is he not bad? No offense, I know he's your employer and all, but he's part of a Mafia and the last time I checked..Mafia's aren't exactly composed of good men."
"None taken, I understand your point. But there certainly is a different and better side to Mister Nielsen and I've fortunately glimpsed such a side even though it might very well be rare." He divulges.
I prevent myself a scoff and an eye roll. "And how exactly did that come about?"
"Well.." I sense him clear his throat forlornly. "I used to dwell on the streets of London 5 years ago and Mister Nielsen offered me shelter from so many adversities.."
I sit forward in alertness. "I'm so sorry to hear about such! That's awful! How did that happen?"
"That's alright, don't apologize.." He chuckles bitterly. "My birth mother gave me up to a foster home when I was 6 and I never knew my dad. I'm 18 now and for most of my younger years I lived with an abusive foster family. So I ran away when I was 11 because the abuse got too much.."
"Oh my Allah, that's terrible!" I say in disheartened disbelief. "How can any sane mother abandon their own flesh and blood to the outside world?!"
"She was a drug abuser and fortunately enough she didn't sell me for drugs. Instead she did the right thing according to her last bit of morals. Albeit in hindsight it didn't work for me so I ended up on the streets." Duffield laments as he shifts behind the drivers compartment.
"so I ended up scouring the streets with a bad crowd of people who enslaved me. I was introduced to the world of selling drugs and pick-pocketing. On one such day of navigating for a potential victim to pick-pocket, I encountered Mister Nielsen.."
"Let me guess, the street gang leader made you steal from rich folks ?" I ask grimly. Through the compartment slot, I see him nod with agreement in addition of a wistful smile.
"and let me guess, you had no idea you were stealing from a demo-err man who steals even bigger fish with his Mafia pals.." I catch myself from uttering the word demon. Hoping he wouldn't question me about name calling his employer.
"Long story short, I hadn't any clue who he was and with whom he's affiliated, otherwise I would have pissed myself-excuse my language!" Duffield explains.
"I spotted him entering a luxury cabaret, he was 25 at the time. He looked bloody badass to be honest. There was a danger about him that should have made me reconsider, but I was a bit of rebel at heart. I snuck in to the cabaret, don't ask me how, but I did!"
This story was getting interesting by the second!
I swiftly gulp down the remnants of the mushy ice cream sandwhich and lean forward attentively. "Did you manage to steal anything from him?"
"Oh yes.." He lets out a chuckle. " I stole his cane and his expensive over-coat, don't ask how. Oh man, I thought his cane was so bloody cool. The design on the handle was of a menacing silver dragon encircling a Christian Cross..it bore semblance to the Celtic Cross!"
"How did you get caught ?" I ask keenly.
"Upon my return to the street gang leader, he recognized the emblem on the handle and he went hysterical! In horror he repeatedly chanted the name The Silver Dragon and accused me of all the people you had to steal from, you chose The Silver Dragon! I was beaten up by him nearly to a pulp. He said he was doomed!" Duffield exhales heavily.
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