Semua Bab Innocence Interrupted - A Mafia Story: Bab 51 - Bab 60

RafaelUnlike my place by the lake, the penthouse is minimalist. The furnishing is dark, the windows large and bright, overlooking the park. Everything in the open-plan living room and kitchen is hyper modern - all chrome and granite.There’s a large television mounted on the wall above the mantel, and a single area rug under the glass coffee table.I don’t like clutter. It makes me claustrophobic. I want space to move. To breathe.After my father died, I moved trucks full of junk out of the house. My parents liked to show off their wealth with extravent, heavy furniture, and garish, but expensive, dust gatherers - ornaments and art they bought just to show everyone how rich they were.Those things meant nothing to them, and it meant nothing to me.Some of the items went to Angelica, but a lot of the furniture and junk are still in storage. I only kept the things that mattered most to me. Sentimental little nick nacks that are worthless to most, but priceless to me.The penthouse only

MadeleineI wake up when I hear a toilet flush.The room is dark, the heave shades blocking out the sun, but I can see well enough.I have no idea what time it is, but I don’t think we slept that long. I don’t feel rested. Still, I have to get up - Betsy will be awake by now, and she’s in a strange place. She'll be scared and confused.A door clicks open, and Rafael appears like a phantom next to the dresser. He’s in one of his immaculate suits, and it does all sorts of crazy things to my hormones. “It’s still early,” he says in a low, measured tone. “Go back to sleep.”The man from last night, the one who almost lost control and kissed me with so much unbridled passion, is gone. In his place is this man. Cool. Calm. And way too fucking collected.I wonder if he has an on-off switch.“Betsy’s probably looking for me,” I say.“I checked on her,” he informs me and puts on his watch. “She’s still asleep. I’m sure she’ll scream you awake when she needs you.”Even that is almost unbearably

RafaelOn my way home, I swing by the hospital to check in on Paulie and to give him a basket of mini muffins. It’s one of his guilty pleasures and a bizarre quirk I could never figure out. All I know is that he loves those things.There's no need for business now, although he probably knows everything already. "How's Vinnie?" he asks and tears into the basket of muffins."Fine. They discharged him this afternoon."I still for a while longer, eager to leave but aware enough to know that if I don't, Paulie will take offence. As soon as Cara shows up, I get up and say my goodbyes.Then I stop at a grocery store to stock up on some supplies for the penthouse. I buy a ridiculous amount of snacks, juices, flavoured milks, cereal, colouring books, and other things I think Betsy will like. I stroll down the other sisles, loading my cart with more food than we’ll need. I stop in front of the condom rack, staring at the colourful boxes and variety of prophylactics on display. For a moment, I

MadeleineHe holds me like I’m a piece of broken porcelain he has to glue back together. Like I’ll come apart if he lets me go.But I’ve already come undone. In that laundry room this morning while I watched the horrors of last night flash before my eyes. Last night - sometime between that moment when Rafael gave me the gun, and when I dropped it in the lake with the rest of the weapons, standing shoulder to shoulder with some of the deadliest, most violent people on the planet.And yet... I think it happened even sooner than that. Perhaps it began when my father handed me a deck of cards for the first time and showed me how to shuffle it.I came to Rafael broken. He met me after I was already in pieces, held together with invisible tape and glue until somebody dropped me.And it wasn’t him. It wasn’t Rafael. Not him.It was them. When they died. My parents. They let go as they always did, and I shattered to pieces.Again.And everytime that happened, it became harder and harder to p

RafaelI am drunk on pure Madeleine. Her scent. Her taste. The way she so easily opens up to me. Trusting me not to hurt her. Trusting that she can be herself with me.It’s intoxicating. Like nothing I’ve ever felt before in my life.Moaning softly, I dip my tongue inside her, drowning in her.I’m so hard, so in need of her, that I’m afraid I’ll burst wide open. Like a fucking geyser.I didn’t lie when I told her that I haven’t had sex in a while. It’s been years.I want to rush. Every part of me wants to be inside her.But Jesus, Mary and Joseph, if life isn’t pretty fucking magnificent right where I am at the moment. Between her legs, drinking her in like a dying man who found an oasis in the desert.Slowly, I start to open her, working a finger inside her. Even that is glorious. She is glorious.It happens fast and suddenly. The orgasm that takes her is intense. She breaks open for me like a blooming flower meeting the sun.That is what I wanted. Feeling her throb around my finger.