Page 4 of The Mafia's Property

“Did you forget her clothes?” I asked Nico.

Nico’s hand went over her breast. “She has clothes on.” I almost wanted to roll my eyes.

“They’re in the back,” Freya responded, holding my gaze. Nico’s thumb flicked over her nipple and her deep blue eyes turned glassy with desire. Frustrated, angry, and horny, I started the engine. The journey was not simple. For a few miles, the only sound in the car were strained moans coming from Freya. Moans that were both erotic and irritating. This was all Nico’s doing. He wasn’t just teasing Freya, he was also taunting me. He wants me to know what I’m missing. As if I would want to be with a woman like her. And so what if my dick was contradicting me? I’m not an animal. I am made of stronger stuff.

I put on the radio to muffle the sounds. That worked for a while until we arrive at the apartment. It’s our temporary residence whilst we were in Vegas and sorting out family business. Our base, Nico and I specifically, is Chicago. That’s where we operate, but Vegas is where the principal business is, and I fucking hate this place. Flashy, trashy and bright, Vegas was like one bad acid trip and I could not wait to be out of the city once business is over. Everything here is over the top and crass. The apartment we were staying in was no exception. Well, the apartment Nico got for us, because if I had any say, I would have made sure we got the one that didn’t look like the ghost of Liberace threw up in it. It’s all white and golds. All tacky art sculptures and obscene paintings by edgy artists. Unlike me, Nico doesn’t care where he rests his head or whether the artwork in his room gives him vertigo. Our older brother Dante, had offered one of his five apartments to us while we were here and since I was too busy with work, left the apartment selection to Nico. I doubt he even looked for a good one and merely did ini mini miny moe.

Freya seemed impressed. She doesn’t gawk, but those eyes brighten as soon as she entered. Of course. How many times does a girl like her get to be in a place like this? Maybe on one night as part of her work, but that would be about it. She notices my notice of her reaction and she turns to Nico to complement the apartment.

“Pretty cool place, right?” Nico said, his eyes scanning the sunken living room with white sofas, plush white carpets and a gold and white piano in the corner. “Rico doesn’t think so. He said it was horrendous when he first saw it. I think tacky was another word he used.”

“Everything in this city is tacky,” I said, “even the women.” The insult is below the belt, and it rolls off my tongue before I could pull it back. If Freya heard it, she doesn’t show it, but Nico hears it. He detangled his arm from Freya’s back and came over to where I am standing.

“Can we talk for a sec?” he said. I was about to refuse him when his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and I saw Dante’s name on the screen. He immediately answered and went out of the room, leaving Freya and me alone. She suddenly turned awkward and unsure. A trait I wouldn’t have ascribed to her until now. She crossed her hands on her chest as if to cover herself. From my gaze? Surely not.

“You have a nice place,” she said after a few seconds of pregnant silence.

“You said that already.”

“Right, of course.” It’s funny seeing her like this. I hope she realized how out of her depth she is. Maybe instead of Nico tiring of her, she would be the one to leave first.

Nico came back soon after, his face contorted with displeasure. “There’s an issue at one of the clubs.”

“Technical or procedural?” I asked.

“Technical,” he responded. That means I won’t be needed. The technical stuff was usually his shit. Mine was procedural. Great, because I wanted to get out of here and I would have taken any chance to do so. “Are you sure?” I ask Nico. “You might need me.”

“It’s a minor issue,” he replied. “And besides, you need to make our guest feel at home.” He sighed when his eyes met with Freya’s and strolled over to her. “My work is jealous of you,” he said before kissing her fully on the lips. It’s a quick kiss that made me wonder what it must feel like to have her lips touch mine. Nico let go of her and came over to me.

“Treat her well?” It sounded more like a threat than a plea.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I won’t chop her up and bury her in the desert.”

“You better not,” Nico said. He bid farewell to Freya again before leaving. When the door closes, I turn my attention to her. “Guess it’s my duty to show you around.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want. I can figure out things on my own.”

“Ah, but you see, you can’t, because there are places you shouldn’t be wandering around.”

She blushes a pretty pink and nods.

“This is the living room, as you can see,” I said, turning around the sunken room we were in. I gesture to the black floor-to-ceiling windows on the west side of the apartment. “Those doors open to a terrace. And the kitchen is in that direction,” I point to the opposite end of the room.

I march out of the room and hear the click-clacking of her heels as she follows. The corridor, just like the living room was filled with Warhol inspired paintings of baseball and basketball stars in awkward positions. It’s cool if you are fourteen years old and have no taste, but every time I walked past them, I wanted to rip them off the walls. “That’s Nico’s room,” I said pointing to the first door we passed. We get to the next door. “That’s your room,” and open it. She tries to hide it, but she is impressed. Her movements slow down as I show her the en-suite bathroom, walk-in closet and the gorgeous view of the city. Savor it in. You won’t be here for long.

I am about to leave her in there when she asked, “What about those doors, were do they lead?” There was a door at both ends of the bedroom.

“Connecting doors. One went to Nico’s room and the other one, mine. That one,” I point to the door that lead to my room, “Is off limits. So,” I grab her hand and led her out of the room to the door on the far end of the hall, “is this one. Two doors that lead to one room you should, under no circumstances, go through or else.”

“Or else what?”

“Or else you’re dead. Got it?”

“Clear as day,” she said.

“Glad we are on the same grounds.”

She snatched her hand out of my grip, frowning. “Are we? You seem to not want me. I thought you two shared?”

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