THE MAFIA’S RUINATION
The Mafia’s Ruination – Episode 26
Subtitle; {Between Love and War}
Authoress Rejoice
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Alice’s POV
Watching Alexander sleep was a sight for sore eyes. It was incredible how he appeared so calm, gentle, innocent, and peaceful. His rhythmic breathing and the way he would bring his head closer every time I stopped playing with his hair were moments not to be missed.
Who would have thought that the head of the Italian Mafia could possess such tenderness? Alexander Romano, despite being in his twenties, excelled at what he did. Even his father couldn’t match his capabilities.
Witnessing him at rest, away from his relentless work, was truly remarkable.
I cherished it. It wasn’t just his slumber that I adored; I also loved the way he enjoyed when I played with his hair, how he rested on my lap, and how comfortable he felt with me. With one hand gently caressing his hair, I reached for my phone with the other.
After attending to what I needed to do, I placed the phone back on the nightstand and began to drift off to sleep.
Suddenly, my eyelids flew open as I felt pressure on them. I saw Alexander getting up from my lap.
The pain in my feet wasn’t as intense as the pain in my neck and shoulders. It felt like I had slept on a rock and tumbled down a mountain.
Ugh, I really needed a massage. But more than anything, I needed food. When I told Alex I was hungry, he didn’t believe me.
Grabbing my phone from the nightstand, I walked towards the door and said to him, “I’m making sandwiches, see you downstairs.”
..
I was halfway through making the sandwiches when he entered the kitchen.
“What’s your favorite sandwich?” I asked, handing him a plate.
“I don’t have one,” he replied after swallowing a bite.
“Really?” I responded in a slightly annoyed tone, and he nodded, chewing the sandwich. “That’s boring.”
“No, it’s not. Having a favorite sandwich isn’t necessary,” he explained, as I sat on the kitchen island.
“I’m not saying it is necessary or a must but it’s a part of life to like and dislike certain things,” I countered.
“My younger sister’s favorite is a PB&J sandwich, and I used to enjoy eating it with her,” he shared before taking a sip.
“Probably,” I responded with a shrug. “Tell me about her,” I asked, curious to hear more.
“My younger sister?” he inquired, looking confused.
I nodded eagerly, signaling my interest in hearing about her.
“Addison is…” he began, pausing as if contemplating how to describe his sister. “She can be annoying at times, but she’s also sweet. She’s seventeen and has a beautiful singing voice, unlike someone I know,” he said, playfully nudging me in the stomach, causing me to burst into laughter. “She’s quite talkative, just like Madison, but only once she gets to know you. Madison, on the other hand, will strike up a conversation with anyone at the slightest opportunity,” he explained. “And here’s the funny part,” he continued, a mischievous grin forming on his face. “Addison has a whole collection of imaginary boyfriends.”
“Imaginary?” I repeated, trying to stifle my laughter.
“Yes, she is currently dating boys and men who are unaware of her existence, such as Harry Styles.”
“Aww, she is adorable. I like her,” I exclaimed, letting out a high-pitched squeal. “In that case, I can relate because I also have imaginary boyfriends.”
“Let me guess, Harry Styles?” he asked, a smile spreading across his face.
“Not exactly. Mostly Four Eaton, Christian Grey, Hardin Scott, and Jack Dawson,” I responded.
“I’m not familiar with them,” he said, placing the plate in the sink with a disappointed expression. “What do they do?”
“They are all actors,” I replied, grinning. “They are incredibly handsome, and I love them so much.”
“Hmm, sure,” Alexander’s voice came out uninterested as he responded.
“They were the first face portraits I painted,” I told him.
His eyes bore into mine as he asked, “Are they more handsome than me?”
How should I answer that? Those four men are my imaginary boyfriends, whom I love but don’t want them sexuàlly. Yes, they are drop-dead handsome, but I only see them as friends. On the other hand, Alexander is undeniably gorgeous, and I definitely want more than just friendship with him. Does that answer his question? No, it doesn’t, right?
“Umm… I’m not sure,”
He sighed, rolling his eyes at me before leaving the kitchen. I quickly hopped off the kitchen island, placing my plate in the sink, and followed him. He paused near his wine cellar, pouring a liquid into a glass. I observed as he downed it in one gulp and reached for another.
Nervously, I muttered, “I hope you’re not drinking because I didn’t answer your question.”
The last thing I wanted was for him to be angry with me. He’s not pleasant when he’s upset.
He chuckled, teasingly running his tongue across his lips. “Don’t flatter yourself, Alice. I couldn’t care less about who you think is more handsome.”
Okay. Why does he appear angry then?
He takes another sip, and I reach out to hold his hand. “You’re going to get drunk,” I express concern.
“So what?” he retorts.
“Alex, please stop. If you’re angry with me, just tell me,” I snap, growing increasingly frustrated with his behavior. I release his hand, and he continues drinking.
“Yes, I’m màd at you, Alice,” he admits, his gaze fixed on mine. “What can you do to make me not màd at you?”
I inquire. “What did I do to make you angry? You asked me a question, and I didn’t choose anyone.”
“Exactly my point!” He exclaimed.
“You want me to choose someone?” I asked, feeling a mix of uncertainty and pressure. “Fine, I’ll make a choice then,” I reluctantly agreed.
He stepped out of the wine cellar, his hands folded as he awaited my response.
What should I say? Does he expect me to choose him? Among the four men I mentioned and Alexander, they all possess their own unique attractiveness, but I only truly know Alexander.
As I pondered the right answer, my back suddenly collided with the wall beside me.
I glanced up, startled, to find Alexander pinning me against the wall. With one hand pressed against the wall and the other on my waist, I swallowed my nervousness, only for it to resurface once again.
“It’s just a question,” he whispered, leaning in closer to my face. His teeth grazed my earlobe as he asked, “Why the hesitation?” My breath escaped me, uncontrollable and wild.
I stood breathless, trapped between Alexander and the wall. “Al…” I attempted to speak, but my words failed me.
His fingers traced the contours of my bare belly, slowly inching up under my hoodie. “Can those boys you mentioned make you feel like this?” he inquired, his grip tightening around my waist while his other hand continued its assàult on my sensitive skin. “Do they have this kind of effect on you?” I shook my head slowly, denying his question. “Words. Use your words, Kitten,” he urged, his lips brushing against mine.
With my lips slightly parted, I struggled to fill my lungs with air. He didn’t stop, his assáult shifting from my belly to my back, his lips finding the side of my neck, gently nipping at my skin. “Do they? Do they have this much effect on you?”
“No,” I forced the word out, and immediately he halted his actions.
With nothing but a smirk, he left me, entering his study or office, whatever it was.
How could he do that? Get me all turned on and then just walk away?
The moral lesson here is clear: Never tell Alexander Romano that someone is more handsome than him.
TBC 📖✍️
