A Night With The Ruthless Mafia Don

In the dimly lit, Broadway street of New York City, a yellow taxi cab came to a smooth halt in front of Marisa and Clarabelle’s apartment. The soft glow of the streetlamp above cast a warm, amber hue on the taxi as it came to a halt.

Marisa elegantly extended her slender hand into the depths of her supple, well-worn leather purse, the material yielding softly to her touch. With a sense of deliberate grace, she retrieved her wallet, fingers brushing against its contours, while the faint scent of aged leather wafted upwards to meet her senses.

In a display of measured consideration, Marisa kindly tallied the appropriate fare and a generous token of appreciation, folding the bills with deft precision. These notes were then gently placed into the awaiting palm of the cab driver, his hand extending toward her like an open book of quiet gratitude. A slight, but unmistakably warm, smile curled upon the driver’s lips when he saw the tip given to him by Marisa.

“Goodbye, ma’am. And thanks for the tip,” he uttered with a voice that bore witness to countless miles driven.

With a kindness that showed their mutual humanity, Marisa replied, “You’re welcome.” Her eyes then shifted, pivoting to rest upon her son, Jeffrey, whose recent departure from the hospital marked a milestone in their lives.

“Let’s go, Jeffrey,” she said, her words both a command and a promise, as she firmly took his hand. She skillfully opened the back door of the taxi. With a controlled yet tender motion, she guided Jeffrey out of the vehicle, ensuring his safe and steady descent. As soon as they got out of the taxi, it quickly drove off, and all that was left behind was the memory of their ride together.

Marisa and her son began walking towards their apartment’s entrance. As they strolled, Marisa couldn’t take her eyes off her son. Her face beamed with a wide, uncontainable smile as she watched him walk. The happiness she felt was overwhelming because her worst fear hadn’t become a reality. When Jeffrey had his accident, she worried that she wouldn’t be able to afford his surgery, and he would remain paralyzed. Overcoming that fear by finding a way to pay for the surgery meant that now, her son could walk again.

Although Marisa had taken an unusual way to get the money, but she didn’t feel any regret. She did it out of deep love for her son, and it made it possible for him to walk again.

Marisa and Jeffrey climbed the hard concrete steps to the entrance together. A gentle porch light above them made them feel warm and happy. It showed the immense joy in Jeffrey’s eyes. He wasn’t just happy about being able to walk again but also because he proved the doctor wrong. The fear of being paralyzed was now replaced with hope for a future full of opportunities.

Marisa put her hand in her pocket to find the apartment keys. She guided Jeffrey up the old steps to their apartment building. Their footsteps mixed with the far-off sound of traffic and the conversations of people passing by.

They arrived at their apartment’s wooden door, which had seen better days with chipped and worn paint from many years of use. Marisa used her key to unlock it with ease, and the door quietly opened. As they entered, a warm and welcoming feeling surrounded them. Their home was a cozy and familiar place where they felt safe and comfortable.

The living room was softly illuminated by the soft, warm glow of table lamps placed strategically around the room. Marisa kicked off her heels, letting out a sigh of relief as she felt the coolness of the hardwood floor beneath her tired feet. Jeffrey, his eyes wide with wonder, took in the familiar surroundings, his favorite toys scattered around. It was obvious that he missed home so much even though he was admitted to the hospital for just a day.

Marisa crouched down to Jeffrey’s eye level and asked with a tender smile, “Well, cupcake, what would you like to eat? I can make your favorite spaghetti, or maybe we can order pizza if that’s what you’re in the mood for. It’s your choice.” She watched as his face lit up with delight, his little eyes sparkling as he contemplated the delicious options before him.

Jeffrey’s face burst into an ecstatic grin, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. With boundless enthusiasm, he exclaimed, “Pizza, Mom! I want pizza with extra cheese and pepperoni, just the way I like it!”

Marisa couldn’t help but chuckle at her son’s enthusiasm. His choice was clear, and she couldn’t blame him for the excitement that pizza always brought. They usually eat it once in a while, but since things became a bit tough for Marisa, she could no longer afford it. But now that her son is showing such unbridled delight over a simple pizza, she can’t help but feel a mix of emotions.

In the past, eating pizza used to be a special treat, a little luxury they could afford. It was a time to unwind and bond as a family, and those moments were filled with laughter. But as Marisa’s financial situation grew more challenging, those moments became increasingly scarce. She had to make tough decisions, cutting back on things that were once considered staples in their lives.

Her son’s innocent excitement tugged at her heartstrings, reminding her of the simple joys that money couldn’t buy. As a mother, it was painful to see her child’s happiness limited by financial constraints. She wanted to give him the world, but sometimes all she could offer was her love and support.

Marisa made a silent promise to herself, watching her son’s beaming face. She knew that someday, when their circumstances improved, they would order as much pizza as they want. She would be able to make her son more happy.

With a warm, loving pat on his head, she said, “Pizza it is, my little pizza lover! Let’s order your favorite and have a wonderful dinner together.”

As Marisa reached for her phone to place the order, her phone suddenly rang, and she furrowed her brows upon seeing it was an unknown number. After a brief moment of hesitation, she decided to answer the call.

“Hello?” Marisa answered the call with a sense of curiosity in her voice.

“Hey, Marisa,” a masculine voice came through on the other end of the line, and Marisa strained her memory to identify the caller. The voice held a touch of familiarity, but she couldn’t quite place it.

“Who’s speaking, please?” Marisa inquired politely, hoping for a hint.

“It’s Dave,” the voice replied, and Marisa’s mental puzzle pieces clicked into place.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Dave. I didn’t save your number,” Marisa confessed with an apologetic tone, acknowledging the lapse in her contacts.

“No problem,” Dave replied casually, his understanding demeanor putting Marisa at ease. “Have you gotten home?”

“Yeah,” Marisa confirmed, nodding her head instinctively, even though Dave couldn’t see the gesture.

“I was wondering if I could pay you a visit. Is that fine by you?” Dave asked, his words sending a sudden rush of excitement through Marisa.

“Sure. Yeah, why not?” Marisa replied, her voice betraying a hint of nervousness mingled with anticipation.

“Alright. Send me the address,” Dave requested, and Marisa’s heart raced with anticipation as she contemplated the upcoming rendezvous.

“Yeah, I’ll do that,” Marisa replied before gently disconnecting the call. Her heart continued to race as she prepared to share her address with Dave, a mix of emotions surging within her.

Ever since she woke up from amnesia, the was the first time a man would want to pay herbs visit, and this was the main reason why she was so nervous. Marisa quickly retrieved her phone and began typing a message to him. Her fingers danced across the screen as she shared her address with a sense of eagerness, adding a touch of excitement to her message.

“Here’s my address, Dave: 123 Oak Street, Apt 4B. Looking forward to seeing you!”

With the message sent, Marisa paused for a moment to collect her thoughts. She remembered that her son had been looking forward to pizza for dinner that evening. Realization struck her – since Dave would be paying her a visit, she decided to order enough pizza to ensure that everyone would be well-fed.

She dialed her favorite pizzeria’s number and greeted the friendly voice on the other end.

“Hello, it’s Marisa. I’d like to place an order for delivery, please.”

“Of course, Marisa. What can we get for you today?” the pizzeria staff asked.

“I’ll take two large pizzas,” Marisa responded, considering her son’s appetite. “One pepperoni, and the other, a combination with mushrooms, green peppers, and extra cheese.”

“Great choices! Anything else for you?” the staff inquired.

Marisa thought for a moment and then added, “Yes, and please include an order of garlic breadsticks and a family-sized salad.”

“Absolutely, Marisa. We’ll have that ready for you in about 30 minutes. Is there anything else you’d like?”

Marisa considered a moment longer before replying, “No, that should be perfect. Thanks!”

With the pizza order placed, Marisa decided to check up on her son. She made her way to her Jeffery’s room, where he was happily engrossed in playing with his toys. She watched him for a moment, taking in the sight of his innocent joy.

“Hey there, sweetie,” she said, leaning down to ruffle his hair. “Guess what? Pizza’s on the way for dinner!”

Her son’s eyes lit up with delight as he looked up at his mother. “Pizza? Yay! thanks Mom!”

Marisa’s heart warmed at her son’s enthusiasm, and she assured him that it wouldn’t be long before the delicious pies arrived. After a quick playtime update, she left her son to his toys, promising to call him when the pizza arrived.

Just when she was going to return to the living room to clean up, she heard a clear knock at the door. It had only been a minute since she ordered the pizza, and she was impressed by how fast the delivery was. However, upon a second thought, she considered that the person at the door might actually be Dave.

Marisa’s heart raced with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. She took a deep breath, checked herself in the mirror, and then hurried to the door. But the moment she twisted the door knob and opened the door, her eyes widened with shock and her face went pale like the belly of a fish.Ccontent © exclusive by Nô/vel(D)ra/ma.Org.

Standing before her was not Dave, nor the delivery man, but Alejandro himself.

“Hello, sweetheart,” Alejandro said, his voice carrying a wide, disarming grin that was plastered across his face.