Wife of a Mob Boss Ch. 01 - Sex Stories

Wife of a Mob Boss Ch. 01

... fear in her eyes. The makeup washed down the sides of her eyes, which reminded him of the terrified woman before, but he no longer saw her. He saw a hardened mob boss’ wife.

Chapter Four

There was an almost psychopathic change in Marlene’s personality from the minute she spat in her attacker’s face to now. After dumping the man’s body, we quickly left the scene. Before I managed to get the car off the bridge, Marlene was already looking in the mirror with a tissue, fixing her mascara and drying any missed tears on her face. By the time I pulled into the parking garage for her Miami highrise apartment, Marlene was back to herself. Her makeup was clean, edged, and sexy. Her shoulders were straight and back, and attitude-filled eyes. Something was reassuring in the return to normality, even if it meant the brief human moment we shared together was gone. At least Marlene could come through the other side.

Being attacked as a woman was bad enough, but witnessing what I imagine was her first homicide would be too much for most women. Marlene had been a mob boss’ wife for twenty years—since she was seventeen years old—of course, she had known of hits, murders, and worse, but at that level of the game and her being a woman, it wasn’t likely that she was party to them.

Until now,I thought, wondering if me allowing her to be there would come back to bite me in the ass.

Arriving at Marlene’s apartment building, I nodded to the bellhop and brought her to the top ...

... floor. It was the penthouse suite apartment—an enormous apartment with vaulted ceilings and luxurious hardwood floors. I escorted the lady to her room, past the plush white leather couches of the living room, and swept the entire four-bedroom apartment for intruders just to make sure she felt safe. She looked at herself in the mirror again while I did that. She tucked her hair behind an ear, plucked at her dress around her breasts, and modeled different sides to herself.

She just came home from the club. Isn’t she about to wash off all the makeup, take off the dress, and go to bed? Who is she looking pretty for?

“Ma’am, I searched the entire premise. No one is here. You’re safe,” I said, holding her gaze long and strong to show that I believed it.

A wisp of a smile broke in the corner of her lips that seemed genuine. Like he had said the magic words, regaining her composure, she reached for her purse.

“What are you? Twenty-four? Twenty-five years old?” Marlene asked with insultingly raised eyebrows as she dug in her coach purse with one hand.

“Twenty-three, actually,” I said, sounding as careless as I could manage.

Marlene rolled her eyes as she tapped a single cigarette free from her pack, flipped it between her index and middle finger, and delicately raised it to her lips. “God,” she complained while lighting it. “How did I get such a baby protecting me?”

I sensed this was a rhetorical question, but it was answered anyway.

“I’m good at what I do,” I ...