Somewhere above the North-Atlantic Ocean
**
“Another glass of champagne Madam?” The flight-attendant asked.
This was the fourth time he offered, and Eleanor couldn’t help but smile at the poor puppy of a man who was falling victim to her insatiable looks and charms. Leaning forward a little bit, Eleanor pretended to have not been able to hear what he said. She used this chance to give the cute young male a little peek at her large assets down the blouse. She saw him blush instantly and couldn’t help but feel empowered by the effects she placed upon men.
“I would welcome one now, thank you.” She spoke slowly and sultry, knowing full well what consequences her voice brought.
As soon as the man disappeared, she returned her attention to the laptop screen in front of her, her brows furrowing again as she continued her research.
Tony Marinetti was a shadowy figure. Not much was known about him, except for the well-known yet almost never spoken nickname; The Keiser. Eleanor understood why. He had his hands in almost every deal spanning across all of Europe and even deep into Russia’s highly complex network interlinking in Moscow. He moved in cautious and aware to every move made, like a maestro playing a game of chess, he knew everyone’s moves before they did. They always said that knowledge was the most powerful weapon, certainly the most lucrative too, and Tony Marinetti infested into it.
“Here’s your glass madam.”
Eleanor took the drink, this time disregarding the male admirer. She was deep in thoughts as she waved off the flight-attendant and sipped on the expensive alcohol. She was content with the drink.
She swiped across several photographs taken of Tony Marinetti, or more like attempts as in every single one his face was either covered by an obstruction because of the angle, or his security guards were protecting him from sight. She crossed the features she could pick up from across the databases of several government’s intelligence, but no results were found. He was a ghost. A man non-existent officially. She was frustrated that he achieved the almost impossible, with more power, wealth and influence than any other figure of importance in history. But somewhere deep down, Eleanor felt a sense of proudness overwhelming her and pushing her to the verge of tears, which she strongly fought back.
‘The age must be taking a toll on me.’ She thought while wiping any wetness around her eyes and attempting to stop her mascara from being completely ruined.
If Eleanor was successful in her mission, than the Vicenti family would be in conjuncture with Marinetti, putting them above the Russian’s and the Japs. But if she failed, she could lose everything. The simple of thought of every single attribute she worked so hard for to vanish so easily was rather scary, but it was a risky gamble she was willing to take, not to satisfy her own greed and ambition, but for the family, and to that she raised her glass and took a sip.
**
London, UK
**
The restaurant was dead quiet. Besides the staff, who were awkwardly standing around reserved in each of their corners, there were no customers but only one. Classical French music was playing in the background creating a calm and elegant atmosphere throughout the space. The establishment was high-end with several Michelin Stars earned. It was home to the wealthy independents during lunch and dinner hours.
The restaurant was managed to perfection of every single detail, from the crisp white-linen covering the tables to the exact dim of the lights. ‘Moreau’ was a restaurant often tagged ‘Harmony’, because the staff worked incredibly hard to achieve every possible little measure in sync with the rest.
And it was at this brilliant restaurant that Tony Marinetti was sipping on a glass of expensive red wine while waiting for his dinner companion. He was early by ten minutes, as he usually liked to be, in order to observe and analyse the surroundings. His security wasn’t with him. That was a sign of respect he was offering to his dinner guest tonight.
Tony glanced at his Rolex and calmly took another sip. The designated time was nearing. Tony smoothed his dinner tie and made sure it looked neat. The Italian tie matched his black suit, the jacket double breasted, with Italian leather shoes on his feet. Tony looked and smelled perfect, and he hoped his date would certainly try to at least match his selection of wear.
Before he could finish that thought, he heard the garcon welcoming a person and directing them over to him. Tony turned and smugly glanced at the woman who was wearing a sheer black dress, which was hugging her figure tightly showcasing her incredibly curves. The dress was matched with heels, although due to the length of the dress, were invisible to Tony. Her generous peek down her cleavage was accommodated by a very expensive necklace made of crystals embezzled neatly around the neck. It looked fragile.
Tony observed the way she was carrying herself, so light, confident and mesmerising. She was fully aware of her devilish charms and knew how to work them to her advantage, abusing them. Tony guessed that was the way she had gotten everything she built so far, but he wasn’t ignorant enough to not see that the amount of beauty she possessed did not match the scary intellect she hid behind those emerald eyes, the same piercing green reflected in Tony’s.
Eleanor noticed the gaze of the man and could feel herself blush. She was walking with confidence, but her heart was beating harder than ever and she couldn’t help but hold her breath under his intense stare. She felt as though she was getting undressed by his eyes, feeling completely and utterly naked and vulnerable, an attribute she hasn’t felt in a very long time.
Pulling her Italian strength together, Eleanor returned the gaze with the same level of intensity, this time it was he turn to observe and analyse. She was impressed by his build, clearly he worked out a lot and was blessed with all the right genes, as she noticed him towering over the table despite being seated. He was too big for the chair. At that thought she couldn’t help but smile. He was a true beast and she briefly licked her lips, before realising her mistake and trying to cover it by running a hand through her silky black hair. However, Tony saw it crystal clear and was about to smile, but acknowledging her mistake would be his mistake, and so he simply turned around, stood up, buttoned his dinner jacket and walked a few steps to Eleanor, his hand leading.
“Good evening, mother.” Tony said, gazing into her eyes.
Eleanor held his look, returning the same level of intensity and emotion, before speaking. “Hello, son.”
They both shook hands and smiled at each other, their minds already racing with the business proposals each wanted to advocate over the next 90 minutes.
**
London UK – Two hours later
**
Tony couldn’t fathom the scene enfolding in front of him. He was naked from the top, his trousers still hanging onto his waist, but his dick rising past the zip and emerging as the beast it was with a life of its own. It was held by two small hands, wrapped slowly around it and stroking it gently. Eleanor, his own mother, was on her knees, topless and blessing Tony with the sight of her incredibly big and firm bust, her nipples were fucking hard. Eleanor looked up at her son, the passion in her emerald eyes mimicking his. She winked at him before letting her saliva drip sensually on his dick, making Tony groan loudly.
“Oh my god.”