I took another sip of the whisky.
The sun over Sicily was setting when we landed in Catania. I put my jacket on and we exited the plane, then headed out toward the terminal entrance. I pulled out my sunglasses, feeling a blast of the scorching-hot air on my skin. Mount Etna loomed over the horizon—perfectly visible today.
The tourists should be happy, I thought, entering the air-conditioned building.
“The guys from Aruba want to meet with you over that issue we talked about earlier,” Domenico said, walking by my side. “We have to take care of the Palermo clubs, too.”
I listened to him intently, silently making a list of things that still needed tending to. Suddenly, it was like everything became dark, even though my eyes were wide open. I saw her. I blinked frantically. I’d only ever seen my Mistress when I wanted to. My eyes widened, but she was already gone. Was my condition deteriorating? Were the hallucinations growing stronger? I needed to go back to that idiot doctor to get examined. Later. For now, I had to get things done. Like find the cocaine dealer who had mysteriously disappeared. Well, not “disappeared” per se, but the term was the closest one that fit the situation. We were approaching the car when I saw her again. Fucking hell, but that’s impossible! I stepped into the parked car and nearly pulled Domenico inside when he opened the other door.
“It’s her,” I whispered, my throat constricting. I pointed at a girl marching down a walkway, away from us. “It’s the girl.”
My head was spinning. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Or maybe I was just seeing things. Losing my mind. The car started.
“Slow down,” my younger brother said as we were closing in on the girl. “Holy shit,” he breathed as we caught up with her.
My heart skipped a beat. Her head turned; she was looking straight at me, not seeing me through the reflective window. Her eyes, nose, her lips… It was her—just like I’d dreamed. I reached for the handle, but Domenico stopped me.
A muscular bald man was calling over to my Mistress, and she turned and started walking his way.
“Not now, Massimo.”
I sat there, paralyzed. She was right there! She was real! I could have her, touch her. Take her with me and spend the rest of my life with her.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I shouted.
“She’s with others. We don’t know who they are.”
The car accelerated and I could do nothing but stare at the fading silhouette of my Mistress.
“I’m sending people after her right now. You’ll know who she is before we reach home. Massimo!” Domenico was saying, raising his voice. I didn’t react. “You’ve waited so long—you can wait a couple hours more.”
I pinned him with a gaze so furious and hateful he shrunk away. I could have killed him right there. The quickly diminishing rational part of my brain knew he was right, but the rest—the prevalent part—didn’t want to listen to a word he said.
“You have one hour,” I growled, staring dumbly at the seat in front of me. “You have sixty fucking minutes to tell me who she is.”
We parked at the driveway and stepped out. Domenico’s men immediately walked over, handing him an envelope. He passed it to me, and I headed toward the library without another word. I needed to be alone so I could wrap my head around all this.
I sat behind my desk and tore off the upper side of the envelope, my hands suddenly shaky. I spilled its contents to the desktop.
“Motherfucker!” I clutched my head in disbelief as the photos—no more paintings ordered from various artists—finally revealed the face of my Mistress. She had a name, a past. And a future she had no idea about. I heard someone knocking on the door. “Not now!” I yelled, not removing my eyes from the photos and notes. “Laura Biel,” I whispered, touching her face on the glossy paper.
After about thirty minutes of analyzing all the new information, I got up from my desk and sat down in an armchair and froze, staring at the wall.
“Can I?” Domenico asked, peeking through a crack in the door. I didn’t react, so he entered and sat in the other chair.
“What now?”
“We’ll bring her here,” I said numbly, not looking at him. He stayed locked in place, nodding his head slowly.
“But… how are you going to do that?” He sent me a disbelieving look, as if I were an idiot. Irritating little prick.
“You’ll go to her hotel and tell her you used to have these visions back when you nearly died and that’s where you saw her…” Domenico trailed off, looking at the note lying on the table in front of me.
Yes, I added in my head. Laura Biel, you are mine now.
“I’ll kidnap her,” I said. There was no hesitation in my voice. “Send people to the apartment of that—” I broke off, searching for the name of the bald guy in my notes. “Martin. They are to find out who he is.”
“Maybe I should ask Carlo? He’s right there,” Domenico said.
“Good. Tell his men to get everything on the man. I need to find a way to bring her here as soon as possible.”
“You don’t have to look far, you know.” I shot a glance at the door, from behind which a woman’s voice had sounded. Domenico looked, too.
“I’m right here.” Anna, all smiles, was walking my way in sky-high heels.
Fuck, I swore silently. I had completely forgotten about her.
“Well… I’ll leave you two.” Domenico grinned stupidly, pushed himself up, and headed to the door. “I’ll take care of that thing, and we’ll finish our business tomorrow,” he said.
The blonde approached me. With one of her long, slender legs, she delicately spread my own. Her scent was intoxicating, as always. A mix of sex and power. She drew up her revealing black silk cocktail dress and sat astride me, pushing her tongue into my mouth.
“Hit me,” she pleaded, biting my lip, rubbing her clit on the zipper of my pants. “Hard!”
She licked and bit my ear, and all I could do was stare at the photos scattered on the table. I pulled off my tie, which I had loosened earlier, and got up, pushing Anna down to the floor. I turned her around and blindfolded her with the tie. She smiled, her tongue tracing a line over her lower lip. She found the table with an outstretched arm, stood up, legs spread wide, and bent over the oak slab. She was wearing nothing under that dress. I walked over to her and smacked her on the ass. Hard. She yelped, head turning to the side, opening her mouth wide. The sight of the photos spread over the table and the thought that my Mistress was so close immediately made my dick hard as steel.
“Oh yes,” I purred, gently rubbing her wet snatch, keeping my eyes on the pictures of Laura. I grabbed her by the neck, lifting her for an instant and removing all the papers she had lain over. I let her lie over the desktop again, lifting her arms above her head. Then I arranged the photos so they all faced me. To possess the woman from those pictures… There was nothing I wanted more.
I was ready to come at once. I pulled my pants down quickly and slid two fingers into Anna. She moaned, squirming under my touch. Her pussy was wet and hot and so tight. My fingers started to circle her clit and she grabbed the edge of the table harder.
My left hand shot out to grab her by the neck, and my right smacked her on the ass cheek. I felt an inexplicable relief. I shot another glance at one of the photos and slapped her again, even harder. She screamed, but I hit her again and again, as if it could really change her into Laura. Her ass was purpling. I bent over and licked it. It was hot and pulsating. I spread her ass cheeks and began trailing my tongue around her sweet hole, visualizing my Mistress all the time.