A Night With The Ruthless Mafia Don

At Marisa and Clarabelle’s apartment, both of them found themselves seated in the cozy living room, eagerly anticipating a potential client to connect with Marisa on the hook-up site.

Marisa occupied one end of the room, sitting across from Clarabelle, her thoughts deeply ensnared in her concerns. Her mind was preoccupied with her beloved son and his debilitating condition. The doctor’s grave words regarding her son’s health had been etching themselves into her consciousness, relentlessly replaying and perpetuating her anxiety and fear. Her son was the most cherished entity in her life, and the prospect of witnessing him endure permanent paralysis was an agonizing thought that weighed heavily on her heart.

As she remained seated, Marisa harbored a quiet and profound hope that a client would indeed choose her on the hook-up site. It was worth noting that she had mixed feelings about engaging in this type of endeavor, far from being a wholehearted advocate for such encounters. Nevertheless, she had reluctantly agreed to partake in it, solely motivated by the desperate need to secure her son’s well-being.

Suddenly, Clarabelle let out an exuberant shout that rang through the room, momentarily overpowering all other sounds. With an infectious joy, Clarabelle exclaimed, “Oh my God!!!!!” Her voice brimming with exhilaration, she nearly jumped from her seat, sending a jolt of surprise through Marisa, who was deeply engrossed in her thoughts.

Marisa, caught off guard and momentarily frightened by Clarabelle’s unexpected outburst, looked at her friend with concern and asked, “What’s wrong, Clarabelle?” Her expression was a mix of worry and curiosity, mirroring the emotions surging within her.

“You won’t believe this, Marisa,” Clarabelle responded, her gaze transfixed on her smartphone.

Marisa’s curiosity piqued, she pressed further, “Believe what?” Her voice tinged with confusion.

Clarabelle promptly rose from her seat and made her way over to Marisa’s side. Close enough to share the news, she declared, “You’ve just been contacted by a client on the hook-up site.” Clarabelle settled down beside Marisa, and upon hearing this revelation, Marisa’s face immediately lit up with a blend of astonishment and hope.

“Really?” she asked, her voice tinged with excitement.

With an affirmative nod, Clarabelle confirmed, “Yes, and you won’t believe how much he’s willing to pay.”

Marisa’s impatience was palpable as she inquired, “How much?”

Clarabelle tantalizingly revealed, “Two million dollars!” This declaration left Marisa in a state of shock, her eyes widening in disbelief.

“What?!” Marisa exclaimed incredulously. “Two million dollars for just one night?”

Astonishingly, Clarabelle affirmed, “Yes.”Belonging © NôvelDram/a.Org.

With a healthy dose of skepticism, Marisa sought further reassurance, asking, “Are you absolutely certain you read the amount correctly?” It seemed unfathomable that someone would be willing to offer such an astronomical sum for a single night of companionship.

“Absolutely,” Clarabelle replied firmly.

Eager to delve deeper into this potential arrangement, Marisa inquired, “Can I see his profile picture?”

Clarabelle agreed, handing her phone over to Marisa. However, she prefaced it with a cautionary note, “Bear in mind that he didn’t use his real picture as his profile image.”

Marisa harbored legitimate concerns about the authenticity of this client and her safety. She voiced these concerns, asking, “How can we be certain that this client is genuine? What if this individual is using the site as a means to lure me into a dangerous situation?”

In response, Clarabelle radiated unwavering assurance and responded confidently, “Calm down, Marisa. This client is indeed genuine.”

Marisa, her curiosity piqued and her brows arching inquisitively, probed further, “And how have you come to that conclusion?”

Clarabelle proceeded to provide a comprehensive explanation, shedding light on her findings, “After I set up your profile on the hook-up site, I carefully reviewed the terms and conditions. It explicitly stated that clients must first make a payment for the services. Following this, they select a designated meeting location where you will rendezvous with them. Once your… ahem… encounter is concluded, the site will facilitate the transfer of funds into your account.”

Marisa sought further clarity, asking with a hint of disbelief, “So, you’re suggesting that this client is legitimate?”

Clarabelle confirmed with a nod, “Yes.”

Intrigued by the imminent meeting, Marisa inquired about the rendezvous location, asking, “Where am I meeting this client, then?”

With a quick glance at her phone for confirmation, Clarabelle replied, “Brandon Club, in precisely thirty minutes.”

Marisa was taken aback by the impending time constraints, and she hesitated, “Thirty minutes?”

“Indeed. That means you need to get dressed immediately; otherwise, you’ll arrive late.” Clarabelle replied.

Concerned about her attire, Marisa voiced her worries, stating, “But what should I wear? I don’t possess any alluring dresses.”

Clarabelle swiftly reassured her, “Don’t worry. I’ve got an array of enticing dresses that will leave your client utterly captivated.”

Without wasting another moment, they hurried to Clarabelle’s mini closet, which was filled with an assortment of stylish and seductive dresses. Together, they began selecting the perfect attire for the upcoming rendezvous. Marisa was amazed by the choices Clarabelle had at her disposal, and they worked together to find a dress that made Marisa feel confident and attractive.

As Marisa changed into the chosen outfit, which was a tight black gown, Clarabelle offered some words of encouragement. “You’ve got this, Marisa. Just be yourself and stay safe. If anything feels off or uncomfortable during the meeting, don’t hesitate to reach out. Your safety is the most important thing.”

Marisa acknowledged her friend’s genuine concern with a nod. “I will, Clarabelle,” she affirmed, her voice laced with gratitude. “And thank you for always being there for me.”

Clarabelle reciprocated Marisa’s gratitude with a warm smile, her friendship unwavering. “You know I’ve got your back.”

As Marisa carefully stowed her phone inside her petite fashion bag, Clarabelle took a moment to share her own plans. “I’ll head to the hospital to check on Jeffrey and see how he’s doing,” she offered.

Marisa’s expression softened with gratitude once more. “Thank you so much, Clara. And please, let the doctor know that I’ll gather the funds for Jeffrey’s surgery as soon as possible.”

Clarabelle assured her friend, “No problem, Marisa. I’ll make sure to convey your message.

Marisa took a deep breath before stepping out of the apartment, onto the bustling city sidewalk where she hailed a passing cab. The yellow vehicle briskly came to a halt and Marisa settled inside. As she entered the cab, the interior seemed both comforting and foreign.

The driver, a stranger with a friendly disposition, inquired, “Where to, miss?”

“Brandon Club, please,” Marisa replied, her voice quivering slightly despite her best efforts to sound composed.

The cab pulled away from the curb, and Marisa felt a growing sense of trepidation settle in. She watched the passing cityscape through the window, her thoughts a whirlwind of doubts and hopes. The neon signs and bustling streets blurred together as the cab weaved through the urban landscape, carrying her closer to her destination.

With each passing minute, Marisa’s nervousness intensified. The nature of the impending meeting weighed heavily on her mind. Her palms felt clammy, and she couldn’t help but fidget in her seat. The uncertainty of what lay ahead gnawed at her, causing her stomach to churn with unease.

As the cab continued its journey to Brandon Club, Marisa clung to her resolve, determined to face whatever awaited her with courage and determination. Afterall, she was doing it for her son.

★•★•★•★•★•★•★

About twenty minutes later, Marisa found herself seated at the Brandon club, sipping her drink slowly, anxiously scanning the crowd for her client’s arrival. The snug black gown she wore left little to the imagination, and she began to regret her choice of attire, feeling increasingly uncomfortable.

Her nervousness grew as she observed the club’s patrons openly engaging in passionate embraces and kisses. This was her first time in a club, having spent most of her days working tirelessly at the restaurant before her unfortunate dismissal.

Suddenly, a masculine voice interrupted her thoughts, and she turned to see a man standing behind her with a sly grin. Marisa decided to ignore him, focusing on her wine.

“You look so pretty,” the man commented, his gaze lingering on her suggestively. Marisa responded with silence, rolling her eyes and continuing to sip her wine. Meeting her client was already nerve-wracking, and this unwelcome attention only heightened her discomfort.

“What’s a lovely lady like you doing here all alone?” the man persisted, attempting to touch her. Irritated, Marisa slapped his hand away and shot him a venomous glare.

“Leave me alone!” she snapped, frustration evident in her voice. The man scoffed, then roughly grabbed her hand, causing her to panic.

“Playing hard to get, huh?” he remarked with a lecherous grin.

“Leave me alone!” Marisa struggled to break free from his grip, but his hold was unyielding.

A panicked cry pierced through the chaotic atmosphere of the club, slicing through the air like a knife. “Alejandro Gambino is here!!” The words reverberated through the crowd, sending shockwaves of fear and apprehension in every direction.

In an instant, the man who had been bothering Marisa released her hand as if it were on fire. His eyes widened with terror, and he turned on his heel, fleeing from the scene as though the devil himself were chasing him. He merged with the frantic throng, becoming just another shadow in the turmoil.

The club, once alive with music and laughter, transformed into a cacophony of panicked voices and hurried footsteps. People scattered in all directions, desperately searching for a place to hide, fearing the presence of Alejandro Gambino like a harbinger of doom.

The sudden chaos turned the vibrant club into a maze of confusion, with patrons scrambling for safety, overturning tables, and knocking over chairs in their frantic haste. It was as though a storm had descended upon the once-celebratory atmosphere, leaving behind a trail of disarray and trepidation.

Marisa stood there, bewildered, watching the chaotic scene unfold. She had no idea why everyone was in such a frenzy. Could it be because of the name “Alejandro Gambino”?

The club’s doors swung open, and Alejandro entered regally, flanked by his loyal men. The once lively atmosphere fell silent in an instant, the tension palpable. Alejandro’s piercing gaze swept over the crowd, searching for one person. When his eyes locked onto Marisa, a devilish smirk curved his lips, and he began to approach her, his entourage following closely.

Marisa’s eyes widened as she recognized Alejandro. He was the same man who had saved her life twice-once from a speeding truck and then from a gang of would-be attackers.

“Is he Alejandro Gambino? Is he the reason for the club’s panic?” Marisa wondered in apprehension as she watched him draw nearer.