12: Pretty Clown

Marco’s POV 

“What the fuck?” 

Words eluded me at the comic sight of Elara. Bashing my expectations of her in a sexy skimpy night wear or preferably nothing, she is dressed like a cow… An actual breastfeeding cow! 

First, the thick length of a hoodie crept to her palms, before she got in the balloon cow costume with swollen breasts and four pink nipples. 

Unable to hold back, Sofia burst into laughter, rocking her head against my arms. I thought she was too pissed off to care, but she showed up minutes later to rant and cuss, and a sweetheart, let it slide. 

“Have you lost it?” 

Her face was the only thing spared. Still, a pink hat hovered at the back of her neck. “You said I could get whatever I needed…” 

“You call this a fucking need?” I clenched my fingers and sighed. “And Francesca allowed this madness?”

She startled and laced the fabric around her fingers, anxious. “She kicked against it.”

For a moment, I paused, lacking the right words. My muscles tensed beneath the thick layers of sheets. I wasn't sure if to deflate the balloon with a loud clap or haul her back to hell. After a long day, it was the least I needed. 

“Have you looked in the mirror?” I didn't look away. “You’re more repulsive than a piece of shit.” I spat out bitterly. “If you want to sleep on the bare grass like a cow, remain one.” 

I should be the one going wild with rage, not her running into the bathroom and slamming the door hard. Too much disobedience to go unpunished. 

“Don't let her bother you,” Sofia whispered. “I'm just offended that you need her to keep you company.” 

She flipped her hair off her shoulder, revealing a bare spot. She was a wild extrovert, had gotten me in trouble almost every day as a teen, and made me the nightmare of the school. 

“You do have a long day tomorrow.” 

“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes before hugging my arm to reach my face as she pecked me lightly and crawled out of bed. “Be sure to rest.” 

The bathroom door opened a few minutes after Sofia left. It felt like she was impatiently waiting for her to leave. When she came out, she was no longer a cow. 

She avoided my gaze and kept mute, her face hard with anger. Still silent, she got into bed, but laid on her side, her back facing me. 

I paused, getting the view of her ass good enough for some spanking as she curled up, pushing her denim-cladded ass in my view. 

In my ash joggers, I was already having a boner. Gulping drying at my erection, I adjusted to her end, close enough to brush my dick against her well-curved ass. Possessing her, my hand slid beneath her hoodie, calming her belly. 

Like a spring, she yanked my hand off and jumped out of bed, eyes red like a bull. “What are you doing?” 

“What a master should do to a slave.” I shrugged and adjusted. 

She retreated, swiftly grabbed the bedside lamp, and stuck it between us. “Well, the slave isn't ready.” 

My creepy smile mocked her. Her shakily holding a lamp like a teddy, or her not being ready, I couldn't tell which made me chuckle. 

When she least expected, I gripped her wrist, and flipped her, effortlessly pulling her in my arms. As a counterreaction, she swung her arm, missing my head and smacking the lamp on the edge of the bed frame. Shards of broken glass crashed on the ground in a pool. 

Her eyes widened in shock and she landed safely on my thighs the next second. My hand found its perfect place, curling around the back of her neck with my thumb teasing her bare skin. 

I tilted her chin, romanticizing the idea of licking along the length of her soft white skin like a delicious meal. 

Catching a glimpse of the lamp’s stem with a sharp edge still in her hand, any silly movement would leave her with a deep cut. 

“Let me go.” She winced, pulling up a struggle. 

I gripped her hand in mine, stilling it in place. The sharp edge sliced my palm, piercing through my flesh as a result. My eyes snapped shut, letting the jilts of pleasure spread in my veins. 

“You-your hand.” She stuttered and immediately dropped the handle, staring wide-eyed at my blood, soaking her jeans. 

Feeling her fragile body tremble on me, I pressed her back to my chest, her hand fell on my erection. “I'd be back to claim my debt.” 

Hating to have her puke all over, I shoved her off my lap, and on the bed, before walking away to clean up my mess in the bathroom. 

*** *** 

We all sat on the fine dining like a decent family having a simple breakfast. Moi Madre sat on her throne, opposite mine. Sofia was beside me, leaning over. 

Lazy footsteps approached from behind. I didn't need to turn to know who it was. As if I was a plaque, she stayed in the middle. Francesca came forward to serve her and Sofia shushed her. 

“You do know lateness isn't tolerated on the table, yeah?” She sat upright, donning her principled lady hat. 

“I apologize,” Elara ducked. “I was taking care of my…”

“Minion?” Sofia spoke for her. “One you shouldn't have brought here for a start.” 

“Table manners.” Madre intervened and bit into her toast. 

“Mum, can't you see she isn't the weak girl she fakes?” Sofia groaned. 

She had a flare for spotting leopards from afar. I leaned in to study Elara; cute face, exhausted mum, was all she gave… And there it was, a layer hidden away from the world in her pretty blank eyes, one I desperately needed to scratch. 

“Elara, my mum, Lady Lucia,” I briefly introduced. “Madre, my fiance.”

“Slut, Cucciolo. Say it as it is.” This time, Sofia’s tone was low and cold, cutting through the suspense. 

Kaid signaled, came forward at my approval, and whispered to me. It was Lorenzo. His duties were done, and he disappeared behind the dining area. 

“Ladies, we have a guest.” I hadn't finished when his familiar cologne filled in. He was a loud man, and so was his choices. And frankly, I hate pick-me dudes. 

“Lorenzo.” Madre’s frail tone beamed and she beckoned him for a hug. 

“My ever gracious lady.” He teased as always, and hugged her, before taking her hand for a kiss. 

Sofia just hummed a greeting in her seat. She also couldn't stand him, it was a vanity we shared in huge chunks. 

“Come on, join us.” Madre pointed at the vacant chair two seats away. 

Instead, the dickhead turned to find Elara, who didn't take a second glance at him. Sort of finding her interesting, he sat beside her. 

I gritted my teeth, chewing hard on my steaks. My grip on the coffee mug tightened, threatening a spill. 

‘Fucking read the room man!’ 

“Do you talk?” He paused his ugly thick lips. Just getting a fake smile from Elara, he turned to me. “Marco, care for an introduction?” 

Francesca rushed in to serve Lorenzo. 

“Actually,” I dabbed my lips with the disposable towel and pushed my seat backward. “I care for business.” 

Not getting a chance to react, he followed me behind, as we walked down the corridor to the back deck where Kaid spotted his car. 

“George sends his greetings.” He began, hands laced behind like a gentleman. “He's inviting us to dinner next week.” 

George was the son of our most loyal Capo, Michael. While growing up, George always accompanied him to our manor. Aside from Sofia and Lorenzo, he was the next real kid around. We became fast friends. 

“He says he has a special announcement.” Lorenzo’s tone was light. “The details of the event will be communicated much later.”

“A good distraction.” I tsked. “So? You didn't come as a messenger.” 

“It depends on the context.” He chuckled. 

When he pressed a button, the trunk of his car opened, revealing two men tied up with their lips taped. They were drenched in sweat and looked like they would pass out. 

“They tick the traitors for the fund theft and embezzlement.” He closed it back. “No words yet.” 

“Kaid would treat them specially.” I turned to signal him. 

Lorenzo tossed his car key at Kaid, and we moved along, randomly trashing topics. Bored, I excused myself, bidding him goodbye. 

Breakfast was over upon my return. Taking the elevator to my room, I met the most awful sight imaginable. 

All the drawers were pulled out, with my items decorating the bed and floor in a messy show. An odd shape like a ball formed beneath the sheet. 

I wouldn't need a gun to take my revenge. Matter of fact, I would slow and sweet. Throwing the sheet off the figure, innocent big blue eyes stared at me. 

Argh! This tiny demon!

She blinked and pouted, acting manipulative. “I'm sorry, Papa.”