The Mafia Queen : The King's Obsession

The thin, frail figure of Victoria Zaitzeva sat upright in the chair in front of the large mahogany desk. There was no emotion on her face as she listened attentively to the nearly sixty-year-old notary reading Eugene Moore's will. She was so still that her breathing was barely evident. She looked perfect, like an ivory statue. with her elegant straight-cut black dress, length below the knee, sleeveless and round neck. Her perfectly manicured hands and the nails painted with transparent enamel, rested intertwined on her thighs; her brown hair tied up in a bun low, gave an air of classic distinction to her already in case born elegance. The tasteful makeup that she used to wear only further accentuated the beauty of her face. Her Golden eyes, large and expressionless, stared at nothing. She was as if she too had died in life, together with the body of her husband, who had been buried a week before, in a private cemetery in the city of Chicago. She pursed her lips very discreetly at the thought of the older man, whose memory had ceased to nauseate her. The beautiful víctoria Zaitzeva, wife of hotel magnate Moore, at thirty, has just been widowed, said the headlines of newspapers, television and magazines. How many hypocritical people came to the wake to give him the condolence! Messages and calls were added to the corporate office; even though it was no secret to anyone that she stopped living with Eugene long before he passed away. She assumed that it was all part of a media plan to make her one more victim of the networks. Surely, in her infinite stupidity, she more than a few naive thought that she might be interested in being part of that group of puppets that allowed themselves to be manipulated by the media, to become almost ethereal beings. And some others would begin to see her as a desirable woman, in every way. filthy bastards! They would never know her up close, much less intimately. They didn't know the kind of widow she was. Serena, like that poisonous animal, also killed the dignity of anyone who dared to cross the line of her personal space. She could boast of being a woman who, at her pace, attracted the glances of men and women with that haughty, distant demeanor that characterized her, due to the natural elegance that she exuded. Above all, because of the power she had gained in recent years.