The Don's Doctor

Home Comforts

Vincent's POV

It isn’t usual for me to oversee the work of the soldiers, but my interest in crushing Niccolo Barone now requires a deadline. My capos have provided a list of my rival’s businesses, and Renzo had located the ones that were off the books. Secret businesses are usually small, low-stake enterprises and in the name of a family member to avoid having to send a percentage of the business profit to the ruling family’s boss. This was a perk that I allowed to pass unchallenged. Money wasn’t my main objective anymore, but respect was. Men are better when they feel they have things that are truly theirs. I had revoked such privileges from all of Barone’s family, and other supporting families and associates the moment Niccolo had hurt my girl. My capos have been handling the businesses that are on the books, damaging the premises, buying the properties to evict the business owners and alternative similar methods that would halt the income of those who had betrayed me. However, I wanted to handle the covert dealings. I wanted Barone to know that I knew about them, so that he would know that I was coming for everything he had, before I eventually took his life.

His mistress’ hairdressers is burning to the ground, and the glow brings me comfort. The crimson clouds from my mind aren’t blocking my judgment, I have approached this rationally, perhaps even coldly, and knowing the problems it would cause almost feels better than the release of violence. When the cops arrive and see me, they stand to the side and watch it with me. Their power is an unfounded perception. Everyone knows I am the only power in the city. If I want something to disappear in this realm of crime, my connections make it too easy. Barone’s small district is burning to the ground, and there is no-one here to help him. Earlier, I had made a deal with the environmental manager to dump a thousand rats into Niccolo’s wife’s bakery, then shut it down, tarnishing the business with a damning hygiene report. A man with trouble on the streets and trouble at home will soon make rash decisions, and that is exactly what I want. The roof finally collapses on the hairdressers, so I return to my car. The fire engines are arriving as I pull away.

“What pleases me most about this, is that Niccolo’s wife will be screaming down one of his ears, and his mistress will be deafening his other ear down the phone.” Renzo laughs cheerfully, as a single man, the horror of martial conflict is enough to make him shudder more than brawling with the enemy.

Smiling, I nod in agreement. Bigger concerns are playing on my mind. I haven’t seen Chiara since last night. Her father said she had been quiet after he had confessed the partial truth to her. Deciding that she needed space and time, I slept in my office yesterday. Viviana had checked on her, and arranged for a supper to be dropped off. As rude as it was for me, as a host, to have made no effort to check on her welfare, I had to keep a distance from her. She is a temptation that I’m not strong enough to resist.

Ash marks my suit jacket, and the smoky scent of destruction clings to my skin and hair. Before I can see her, I have to wash off the pungent smell of my crimes. Even if I can never have her, I can’t bear for her to think less of me than she already does. Water spurts out from all directions, the sting of the heat is necessary, it is the only temperature that can wash my sins away. Although the steam blinds me to the night I have had, it can’t cloud my thoughts of Chiara. Would her skin endure this heat? Would her skin turn a delicious pink colour? My c**k slapped against my abs as I pictured pushing her against the cold tiles, imagining her little gasp at my unexpected roughness. Stop. I can’t touch myself with the idea of having her, but the more I tell myself that I can’t, the more vivid her shape becomes in my mind, until I am convinced I am hallucinating. My hand is pumping down my shaft angrily as I close my eyes and imagine gripping on to her shoulders, only to bend her over. My thoughts are so detailed that it seems I have manifested my fantasy into a reality. Wrapping my forearm around her waist, I spread her legs wider apart, slipping my hands between her thighs, coaxing her opening to accommodate me. Unable to exercise control, when she pushes against me, I thrust into her tight hole. Our hands are splayed against the wall, as I plunge into her at an unrelenting pace. In my mind, she moans and screams, but in reality it is me grunting as my lower spine tingles, calling forth my orgasm. I picture her looking over her shoulder to watch me unravel, but her eyes peer into my very soul. Exploding over my hand and tiles, I’m panting with exertion. I don’t want to open my eyes, but I know I must. For a moment in my day, the first day in eighteen months, I found peace in my imagination, at the moment where I was lost in her.

Tired of the suits and formalities, I pull my jogging bottoms on and a black vest top. The heat from the shower is still making my blood pump. Tentatively, I knock on Chiara’s bedroom door. I notice that my palms are sweaty.

“Come in” A croaky voice calls out, and I wince at how hoarse she still sounds.

Slowly, I twist the handle.

She is sitting at the vanity unit, her neck is extended as she uses the mirror to pat foundation on to her bruises. Stunned, I still haven’t spoken, and she flicks her eyes across the mirror to the door, using the reflection to see who is there. She jumps when she realises it’s me.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise it was you. I thought it would be Viviana.” She explains, all the while her eyes are analysing me, as if she is looking for an injury, desperate to find something she could heal for me.

Didn’t she know that some wounds are incurable? Not knowing what to say to her, I only nod.

“Are you here for a particular reason?” She asks with her eyebrows raised.

The gruffness of her voice and her direct approach when she addresses me is a rarity that is refreshing. She is the only person I know who doesn’t guard her words when speaking to me.

“I came to…I came to see if you have everything you need?” I stumble.

“Actually, I was hoping to speak to you. How long do my father and I have to stay here?” She inquires.

“Until the threat is eliminated.” I respond sharply.

“Viviana was right then, I am your prisoner here. In that case, I need to collect some things from home.” She states.

Her words hurt, she was a guest, the most important one I had ever had, but all she could do was think about what I had taken from her.

“Give me a list. I will have Renzo collect them.” I instruct.

“I’m not having Renzo rifle through my underwear draw, thank-you. I want to go to my flat. I need to check on my cat before the neighbour adopts her, because she will have been feeding her for so long. Plus, since I will be here until you free me, I might as well make my time more valuable and finish my article for the medical journal.” She argues back.

Everything in me wants to say no. Taking her to her home goes against my better judgement. Despite this impulse, I look around the room and realise that nothing in here is hers. If she is going to be here for a while, the least I can do is allow her to bring some home comforts.

In a moment of weakness, I give in to the side of me that knows that I will do anything for her.

“I’ll take you tomorrow, early in the morning.”