London, UK
**
Tony Marinetti sat at the comfortable chair on the table that breakfast was being served on. His legs crossed, sipping on black coffee and glancing at some data on his laptop. Emily Van Woven was preparing some freshly baked croissants in the oven and was chopping up some fruit for a platter, choosing them carefully as she knew the ones Tony liked and the ones he despised, although she was of the much opposed opinion that all fruit are nice. In the background of the white kitchen was Mozart, playing his finest melodies and allowing the two people to appreciate his genius.
Tony heard the tapping of footsteps and glanced at the person entering the kitchen. Eleanor Vicenti looked gorgeous as she swayed to the table and taking a seat, smiled at her son. Her hair was tussled and long and only wearing a white shirt that complimented her angelic features and was way too large on her as it belonged to Tony. The top three buttons were undone and Tony stole at the impressive cleavage presented to him. His eyes followed the trail of love bites he left on his mother, which were dark and obvious. She would have to cover them with thick make-up, and Tony smirked, at which Eleanor raised an eyebrow and rolled her eyes. But the intense stare from her son caused her to flush and her nipples began hardening against the fine material of the shirt, much to Tony’s happiness.
“Good morning.”
Tony’s teasing and confident manner was obvious in the tone, and after what he did to Eleanor last night, literally fucking her into a black-out, she let him enjoy the morning after.
“Morning.” Eleanor replied playfully, putting her arms together and teasing Tony with the power of her tits.
Emily observed the interesting encounter and was quite simply shocked. Tony had never before allowed one of his nightly playthings to join breakfast, never mind even seeing another room except for his, yet here was a very beautiful woman teasing and joking around with him like she couldn’t believe was possible, as if the two knew each other for years. That was not possible, as Emily noted the woman, who was now sitting cross legged on the chair and was tying her hair up in a seducing bun, was clearly older than him by a few years at least. Emily guessed her to be the same age as her, or possibly slightly older too.
“Have whatever is on the table, and if you’re not in the mood for what’s on offer, you can always ask Emily over there to scramble you whatever you like, she’s an incredible chef, if not the best in the world.” Tony smiled at the cook behind the counter who returned it affectionately.
Eleanor glanced at the woman too, analysing every detail about her. She noticed that she looked different in real life, slightly older but still beautiful for her age. She had glowing skin and a trim body, although the evidently coloured hair seemed to cause the poor lady some stress at night. She had a pretty face too, but ruled that Emily was no match to her.
Eleanor Vicenti stood up and walked over to Emily, extending her hand and affectionately smiling at the chef. “It is an incredible honour to meet you Ms. Van Woven, you are an inspiration.”
Emily, caught slightly off-guard by the greeting and the fact that she was known by this woman, accepted the handshake. “Well thank you so much, unfortunately I am not sure whether we met before?”
“I don’t think we have, I’m Eleanor Vicenti.”
At the mention of the name, Emily’s eyes widened from shock and she couldn’t help but gawk at Tony, who smiled at the interaction.
“You’re kidding.” Emily tried to keep it together, but those few seconds of her losing it were crucial and her inner fan was obviously now out in the open. “My apologies for not recognising you at first madam.”
Eleanor giggled, flattered. “Emily is fine, I hope Tony is treating you accordingly I hope.”
Emily glanced again at the handsome man who observed the two woman as if they were the most exciting movie ever made. “Yeah, he’s a good man.”
“Well I’m glad to know that he is appreciated by such an incredible woman like you.” Eleanor said softly, her smile meeting her eyes.
Emily blushed firmly. She still couldn’t comprehend the fact that she was in the same room as the incredible Eleanor Vicenti, her role model. She didn’t know where to look, and so settled back on watching the croissants baking in the oven.
Tony sensed a certain amount of pride flushing through his body as he observed his mother switch smoothly from playful to professional. She was incredible and he knew already, he was falling for her with every second he spent with her. She wasn’t his mother, but slowly becoming his woman, and despite the lack of discussion the two required to commence, both felt and knew that this was imminent and inevitable.
He continued sipping on the black coffee and averted his attention to the news, waiting for an important decision in the parliament to take place. Depending on their vote, he may need to take precautions for certain movements of products. So he patiently awaited the decision. Tony Marinetti had plans for both outcomes and his prediction skills one in a million, as he sharply anticipated every possible scenario, mitigated and adapted, cutting his losses and expanding the profits. That is how he become the only important player in this game, and why he became so infamously feared. Tony Marinetti did not adapt the nickname “Keiser” for nothing, he owned up to the reputation and delivered more than anyone expected. He was the unpredictable with the power, influence and ruthlessness to do whatever he desired. A true king.
“We need to talk.” Eleanor said as she sat back on the chair at the opposing end of the table from Tony.
She reached for a cigarette, placed it between her luscious lips and began looking for a lighter but in avail. Tony was swift in the movement as he pulled a jet-lighter from his pocket and lit the smoke for her, their eye contact intense.
“We do, but after breakfast and in my office.” He simply replied, grabbing a Marlboro for himself and smoking it.
“But what I currently crave isn’t on the table.” Eleanor smiled teasingly.
Tony understood the message, but instead of obliging, he resisted his mother’s charm and averted his vision from her explicit cleavage back to the news, controlling his mind like he controlled every other aspect in his life.
“Maybe I can serve what you want after our talk.” He spoke coldly.
At that exact moment, Eleanor realised something about her son. An important issue or situation would always come before his own needs. That is what made him so successful, his skill to prioritise efficiently and putting the interest of the organisation above his personal was an attribute not many could claim. She had to admit that not even she would be able to execute such a decision. And that was fine, as she was human. This of course meant that the man sitting opposite her, sipping on the coffee so casually, had little humanity in him and was capable of things she couldn’t even imagine. A true monster, and that very thought scared her partially, but turned her on more and attracted her to him. She felt her pussy juices begin to flow and she bit her lip, her heart aching for him despite being so near to him. ‘What did I get myself into’, she thought.
**
Heathrow Airport, London, UK
**
Vanessa was exhausted from the long flight and couldn’t wait to see the comfortable bed in the Westminster Suite of the Marriott Hotel in County Hall. It oversaw the London Eye and River Thames with a balcony for a more dynamic experience. She knew that was the hotel her mother stayed in and planned to give her a ring after catching up on sleep and freshening up.
In order to stay comfortable, she wore leggings, an oversized sweater and Nike airs. It wasn’t the most shiny outfit ever, but her curvaceous body was obvious no matter the type of clothes she put on, which gotten her unwanted views from men who looked like dogs, and females who appeared ready to cut her throat. But Vanessa was not bothered in the slightest, as she knew that with only one phone call she could make her parents buy out the airport and expel every single one of the travellers here. However, Vanessa had more heart than that, or so she liked to believe.
After passing Passport control, where she answered more questions than necessary, she went straight to the exit and looked for the sign that had the name “Maria Armano” written on it. Her surname was known, and so her parents had taught her from the very first flight she caught alone to always use a pseudonym, as she never knew from which corners enemies would crawl from and devise an attack. It was these precautions that kept them safe for so long in their line of profession.
Her chauffeur was nothing like she expected, way younger and bulkier. Her alertness was raised briefly, before she saw him smile in her direction. She guardedly approached the man.
“Ms. Armano?” The man spoke with a deep voice.
“That’s me.” She smiled awkwardly at him.
“I’m Eliot, your driver during your stay here in London. This way madam, your luggage is already in the car.” He said and began exiting the airport to the car park, leading the way.
Vanessa’s instincts were acting up, she didn’t know why as no one knew she would be landing tonight under a fake name too. Yet she couldn’t rest.
**
London, UK
**
Tony Marinetti plummeted heavily down on the leather chair behind the traditional wooden desk he had hand-made in Italy, the letters TM engraved in gold on the side. Eleanor Vicenti sat a leather sofa that matched the interior of the room, while glancing around the office of ‘Der Keiser’. It was neat. There were no unnecessary items anywhere, no spare pens lying around the desk or an ashtray with dead buds. He kept everything minimal. She stared at the large TV behind him and wondered what he used that for, before settling on the reasonable assumption that he must observe the cameras from here.
“Tony,” Eleanor began sharply, her manners becoming professional and business-like. “When I came to London to meet with you, I didn’t expect things to go so-” She glanced at him, bit her lip and chose the next words carefully. “So south.”