Tony smiled affectionately. “The minute I saw you, I knew we were going to end up in my bed.”
“Oh shut up, I wasn’t that easy.” She rolled her eyes at him.
“You weren’t, I was just that good.” He laughed deeply, much to his mother’s dismay. “Surely you must have felt the same.”
Eleanor thought deeply, reminiscing briefly at the first time she laid eyes on the beautiful creature that was Tony Marinetti. Perfect in every way. “I knew what I wanted.” She finally said, but the teasing look in her eyes spoke told more than she did.
“Don’t you think that sometimes -” She paused and glanced at Tony. “That sometimes what we are doing is so wrong?”
Tony smiled at the innocent thinking of Eleanor, knowing that he was at that stepping stone a few hours earlier. “Do you mean our fucking and loving -” He looked her dead in the eye before continuing. “Or our line of profession?”
Eleanor smiled widely at his intellect. He put everything into perspective for her and knew that for people like her and Tony, the law and society’s justice were not applicable, but rather they were untouchable and were trend setters.
“I wonder where you got your witty intellect from.” Eleanor spoke rhetorically.
Tony seized the opportunity she unknowingly presented. “Probably from my father.”
He observed his mother as she glanced at him with an odd expression, then looking away, a ping of sadness obvious to Tony’s well-trained eye. She was cornered and fully aware of it. She couldn’t lower her guard in front of him for even a second as she internally praised his sharpness and his brain that apparently never stopped working.
Eleanor reached for a cigarette, lit it and began filling the clean office with crystal smoke. “What do you want to know?”
Tony stood up from his comfortable chair, walked around the desk and stole his mother’s pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out, his mother holding the fire of a zippo for him. He smoked with her, staring into her eyes as she observed his every move.
“Everything.” He said midst exhaling.
**
Moscow, Russia 1992
**
“Would you stop with the fucking smoking already? It’s filling up the entire car.” Mario whined, bringing a tinted window down for fresh air.
Eleanor Vicenti ignored her freshly married husband as she continued smoking her sweet cigarette, blowing the smoke out into the interior of the 1990 Maybach. A barrier left the pair in the back unseen, with the chauffeur focusing on safely navigating the roads of downtown Moscow. She admired the city. It was her first time in Moscow, and she loved the people, architecture and the food, their habit of waking up to sips of vodka definitely appreciated. She also loved the cold weather, feeling comfortable under the dark weather rather than sunny California. It was one of the reasons she persuaded Mario to reside in New York City.
Mrs. Vicenti crossed her legs elegantly. She wore a black velvet dress that hugged her youthful figure, with a split down the side in order to showcase her toned legs. High heels fitted her feet and added to her luscious look she decided on for tonight’s event. Her back was completely exposed with her front holding her large tits in place and presenting the cold night an explicit cleavage that will catch the souls of many men. To keep her warm, a long Russian feather scarf was wrapped around her shoulders and upper neck. It wasn’t out of place, but kept her style elegant, and if required, she can always lose it to restore her sexiness.
“Driver, how long left?” Mario asked impatiently.
Eleanor glanced over to her husband. She felt a wave of disappointment. When she agreed to marry him, she was under the impression that the prominent Don Vicenti was of a tougher calibre and a calm demeanour, yet his reputation preceded him as she had now gotten a detailed look behind the scenes. He was nervous, she could tell, his hands bawled up into fists and cladding onto his tuxedo trousers, probably hiding his sweaty palms. His face was a blush red. She needed to attend to him, otherwise she would be embarrassed seen as his date and wife considering the high levels of profiles they will be engaging with.
Eleanor took one last drag from the cigarette and then stubbed it in the ashtray provided by the car. She put her hand on his, grabbing his nervous attention. And when they made eye contact, her fearless emerald eyes looking deeply into his cowardly brown, she gently let her hand travel further up his leg and stopped at the position she assumed his dick was.
“Let me help you relax baby.” Eleanor spoke softly and teasingly, blinking heavily attempting to make her husband feel confident.
She rubbed his cock though the trousers at first, slow with every stroke and looking into his eyes. Mario couldn’t believe how foxy his wife was, as he looking into the eyes of sex demon, and briefly thanked the lord for the creation of her before putting his head back and closing his eyes, falling victim to the pleasure his wife was providing him.
Eleanor rolled her eyes, pulled the zip of his trousers down and fished out Mario’s dick. Expertly, she stroked it, seeing the pre-cum develop and rubbing it into the sensitive tip, getting a moan out from her husband. She lowered her face and trickled saliva onto his dick, seeing it twitch. She rubbed it all over the tool and then placed her luscious lips around the tip of the dick, giving it a brief kiss before permitting it entrance into her warm mouth. Eleanor began bobbing on her husband’s dick with high intensity, making Mario groan high pitched. He put one hand on her head, entangled in her perfect hair, at which she immediately stopped.
“Do not put your hand on my hair or even think of ruining my make-up, otherwise this ends here.” She said firmly, grabbing his hand strongly and making Mario wince from pain. “Are we understood?”
Mario nodded hopelessly and she loosened her grip, going back to sucking him off. Thirty seconds after and Mario couldn’t hold back and erupted into Eleanor’s devilish mouth. Eleanor made sure to swallow it all and leaned back on her seat, pulling out her small mirror and lipstick, re-applying the cherry red on her thick lips.
“We have arrived.” The chauffeur said in a thick Russian accent, before bringing the Mercedes to a complete halt right outside the venue for the evening.
He got out and opened the door to let our Mario first, who in turn opened the door for his wife. Eleanor elegantly stepped out of the car, grabbing her husband’s hand, she found her balance and stood next to her husband, smiling to all the flashing cameras while the pair stood in front of the expensive Maybach on a red carpet. They waved and putting her arm into his, the two began walking into the venue.
It was a benefit gala, of the richest and most powerful people around the globe. The attendance list included several world leaders, famous celebrities and billionaires. However, it was all just a font as in reality the event hosted the most dangerous criminal figures in the underworld, bringing them together once a year in order to keep peace between borders and territory as well as to discuss issues in person if someone had one. It was safe ground with instruction by the host clear – No weapons, no attempts and no plays.
The celebrities were added into the mix for the media outlets, in order to keep make the facade more believable. They were just stupid dolls that none of the big players respected. They were someone’s date or came by invitation. They were free for all. If any of the powerful figured desired any of the celebrities, they could have them to do whatever they liked.
Eleanor and Mario were guided to their table close to the front. The Vicenti family was well known and its influence America called for the necessary respect to have their table right at the front. Eleanor appreciated the gesture of respect from the host as she sat down on her seat, Mario sliding into his chair next to her and not bothering to pull the chair out for her.
“What a shameful behaviour by a man.”
Eleanor and Mario both turned to the source of the words. Eleanor’s emerald green eyes looked into a pair of icy blue on top of a hulk-like figure. The man towering over the two was well above six feet, with dark brown hair slicked back. Across his right eye lingered traces of a faded scar that back in the day seemed to have been more obvious than now. Tattoos were creeping above his white collar and Eleanor wondered whether his upper body was entirely covered by it. She could smell his husky scent and it made her nipples harden.
“I apologise, one of my men should’ve taken the initiative and pulled a chair for you, madam.” He spoke with a slur of a Russian accent.
Eleanor noticed clearly that the man had practised hard to keep the thick accent to a minimal.
“I’m Vladimir Ivanov, host of tonight.” He introduced himself, and holding his hand out for Eleanor’s, intensified his glance.
She brought her hand into to his and saw him bowing over, kissing it gently, lingering for a second too long, before standing back upright. “I am Eleanor-”
“Vicenti, I am well aware.” Vlad cut her off, giving her a smug smile before turning to the man next to her. “And you must be Mario Vicenti.” He shook hands with Mario, his grip hard and tough, before turning his attention back to Eleanor, whom grasped for a cigarette and placed it between her lips, looking for her lighter.
Vlad was quicker and fired his zippo smoothly from his pocket, offering the flame to her. Eleanor returned his gaze as she accepted the gesture.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He spoke deeply and slowly, a level of tenseness carrying the tone.
Eleanor took a deep drag and exhaled the smoke slowly, continuing to share a passionate look with the god-like man. “The pleasure is all mine.”
Mario witnessed exactly the exchange between the two, but did not speak up. No matter how powerful the Vicenti family was, their reach was limited to the States. His entire criminal organisation meant nothing to a man like Vladimir Ivanov.
The Ivanov name was not only honoured among the figures in the underworld, but it is prayed upon. It was sacred. The people that did not respect the name were wiped out, leaving only the worshippers. That was the extend of the Ivanov’s influence and power. They controlled entire countries and ultimately the world.
“I need to speak to a few other guests, please do let me know if you two need anything.” Vladimir intended his courtesy to be extended to both, Eleanor and Mario, yet he spoke with his eyes glued to Mrs. Vicenti.