Breaking up the Happy Family

Ramona stalked into the room, her chest constricting with fury.

She felt as though she had been played by that brute, the Mafia Don, with his cold, laser-like gray eyes that seemed to study her and find her wanting. She fumed, her chest heaving.

SHE was the woman who was desired by men, the pin-up girl of many magazines, with her exotic looks and the body most men would worship. She had been pushed to the side, discarded as easily as if she had been a toy when the man had seen his wife, that fat creature, approach. The escorts accompanying her were silent as they led her to the door of the room where she was staying. She slammed the door shut in their faces, ungraciously.

Lighting a cigarette, she puffed furiously as she paced, oblivious to the beautiful room and its tastefully arranged furniture and artifacts. Ramona was hopping mad. A knock on the door made her gnash her teeth and she flung the door open, shouting,

“What the f*ck…’

And stopped. Her handsome half-brother stood there,