Author's Note: Hello everyone! I just wanted to try this story line out, I've been thinking about this for a while now and I never really thought I would write it, but I did! It's a mafia story set in New York. I'm really just dabbling, but please let me know if you want me to continue! xo
EL James owns, this and any future chapters.
I walked out of the JFK airport and saw the large crowds around, I immediately felt claustrophobic. I told my bastard father that I needed a change so he of course sent me to my uncle Roberto who lived in Tribeca. I wanted to get out of the annoying socialite scene in Seattle, but of course by sending me here I'm really just swapping scenes. I initially wanted to move to a little apartment in Harlem or Queens, but my father would have none of that. His child would never live in the "ghetto".
I looked past all the drivers who had signs up and soon found the man who held my father's surname: Luciano. He was dressed in an expensive suit with a black hat atop his head, heading straight to him I gave him a smile and said that he was waiting for me.
"It's Anastasia Steele, not Luciano," I stuck my hand out to him curtly.
"Hello, I apologize sincerely, please call me James. I work for your uncle Roberto, I'm his driver," he looks at me passively.
"It's alright," I reply, not like I'm not used to it, "guess he was too busy to pick me up?"
"He's in a meeting, miss," he explains, "please let me get your bags."
"By all means," I say a bit sarcastically. I know that I shouldn't take my annoyance out on him, but really someone was going to face the brunt of it anyway. James quickly walked ahead of me and somehow collected my large luggage. Without so much as a muscle clench he picked it up with ease and led me to the awaiting Rolls-Royce town car. My father Vincent Luciano Seattle's top magnate insisted that I take his private plane, I rolled my eyes at this. Now that I was twenty-one, legal to serve in the military, buy liquor, and go to a strip club, he decides to be a father. A little too late if you ask me. Nonetheless he argued with me until he was blue in the face, while I stood my ground. Not only was it atrocious, the fact that he would waste all that energy and money to take me all the way across the country, when a simple plane ticket would suffice. What a joke.
I'm really not sure why he decided to step back into my life when he was absent for most of it. Vincent never gave up his legal rights, but he wasn't ever there. I relied on my mother's slew of men who would walk in and out of our lives to be my father figures. Don't get me wrong; I had the best of everything, best school, best clothes, and best material things. Everything was the best. I was like my parents own personal battleground, they gave me everything a little girl could ask for. It was their own way of fighting each other, but without actually being in the same room. For example: my mother sent me to the best private schools in the country, my father then buys me a new car, my mother sends my friends and I on an all inclusive vacation in Sir Richard Branson's island for a month in the summer, and my father who would definitely not be out done of course, buys me my own island. A fucking island. I was their rope in their own tug of war; since I technically lived with my mother I took her maiden name. In all honesty I didn't care much for her, she was never around really, but since I detested my father I chose the lesser of the two evils. At least I got to see Carla once or twice a month when I was growing up, while Vincent would show up unexpectedly once a year.
"We're here miss," James says, piercing through my daze. I shook my thoughts away and stepped out on the streets. I love New York and every time I come here I have Frank Sinatra's "New York, New York" playing in my mind. Though sometimes Carey Mulligan's rendition of it in Shame pokes through. The valet takes my luggage as James escorts me inside the large and very upscale building, where a beautiful strawberry blonde woman dressed in a black pencil skirt and white blouse was waiting for us.
"Hello, you must be Anastasia, I'm Katherine Kavanagh," she smiles widely at me and holds out her hand for me to shake.
"Hello Katherine," I give her a small smile.
"I'm your uncle's personal assistant, he sent me to give you a tour of your new home," she says cheerfully. Ugh, way too happy. "I'll show you the private elevator that takes you straight to the penthouse." I nod at her as she continues to talk, "Your things came in and I took the liberty to have them unpacked, of course you can move things around, but I thought it would be easier."
"That's fine," I said as we stepped into the elevator.
"Great," she claps her hands together. "Your uncle had your room redecorated."
"I'm sure it'll be fine," I give her a small reassuring smile. When the elevator dinged we arrived at our floor, immediately stepping out of it I could see that my uncle spared no expense. It was lavish with tones of white and gold and marble floors. There was a large chandelier in the large circular foyer with round table with a vase of a beautiful floral arrangement; the only other thing in the room was a large gold-rimmed mirror on the right wall. The great room was the same as the foyer with a crème coloured couch, ceiling to wall windows that led a to a large terrace wrapped around the entire building. Outside there were a few large trees; a grill with a very large seating area, on the other side there was a medium sized pool, sauna, and Jacuzzi. Back inside to the left of the great room was a den, which was different from everything in the house; it was a dark blue theme with gray undertones. A large flat screen TV, a very complicated looking entertainment system and every game console you could think off, in the middle of the room there was a large leather L-couch and two recliners. Why the man needed this much space was beyond me, to my knowledge he was the only on who actually lived here. Though ever since I had first met him ten years ago he had always claimed the bachelor lifestyle. Katherine prattles on and shows me the well-equipped, state of the art kitchen, dining room, the library, two guests rooms, my uncle's office, library, then finally my room which was on the west side of the penthouse.
Somehow Katherine had done a pretty bang up job, my room was exquisite, it was comfortable looking, but still had a very upscale feel to it. It was definitely liveable. It was a pretty big room considering that the king size four poster bed with two bedside tables didn't eat up the space, directly across from it is a large flat screen TV that was mounted on the wall, then to the far right of the room there was a desk with an iMac, printer, and phone, then on the left side near the bed was where the walk-in closet and bathroom were located. I'm not going to lie, but this room was pretty amazing. Next to my desk there were two French doors that led to a private seating area just outside my room, I can already tell that I will probably be using that as my little escape.
"… And the concierge is number 3 on the phone…" Katherine keeps on talking, honestly I sort of tuned her out while I was walking around the room.
"Is there a fitness centre?" I asked finally tuning in.
"Oh yes, it's on the second level, you can actually take the elevator down from here, but if you want to go to the spa in the building you'll have to take the elevator down to the main lobby, then take one of the other elevators up the fifth floor," she answers. "Also, your uncle wanted me to give you this," she takes a large envelop out of her leather bound folder in her hands. "He insisted that you have this and the keys to the Mercedes-Benz McLaren in his garage, and I almost forgot! The key card to the apartment."
I hold in my eye roll and take them from her, "Thank you."
"You are very much welcome, if you need anything this my card."
"Thank you so much," I repeated.
"Oh, I almost forgot, your uncle will be home in a few hours and he sends his sincerest apologies. He did want to pick you up at the airport, but he was regretfully kept in a meeting."
"It's okay," I shrug.
"I'll be off, I will see you soon," she shakes my hand again and walks off leaving me alone in this large house. It was only three in the afternoon and I had plenty of time until my uncle is due to arrive so I quickly showered and got dressed deciding to walk the streets.
I hadn't looked at the envelope, but placed it on top of laptop on my desk. Dressed in an off shoulder t-shirt, jean shorts, gladiator sandals, and my little satchel purse I headed out the door. Walking into the warm early September air I quickly got lost in my music as soon as my earphones went in. I may or may not have been dancing just a little bit while I was walking, but really come on it's New York, everyone's a little weird here.
Stopping by at a nearby café I ordered a latte and then quickly spun around to head out the door, but what I didn't count on happening was walking right into a very tall man and spilling my entire cup of hot coffee on my shirt.
"FUCK! Watch where you're going!" I yell, angry as hell that the hot liquid was all over my chest.
"Shit, I'm so sorry," the man apologized, I didn't even take a moment to look at him but I just lost my shit.
"Seriously, ever heard of personal space?" I seethe.
"Are you okay?" he asks worried, when I finally look up at his face I was quickly pulled in by his gray eyes filled with worry. For a moment I was speechless, but I quickly gathered my wits and regained my composure.
"I'm fucking fine, but my shirt is not," I say annoyed, trying to ignore the man in the sexy suit that he seemed to fill out quite nicely. "You're lucky that shit wasn't too fucking hot."
"I am really sorry," he looks into my eyes.
"Yeah whatever," I quickly sidestep him, in all honesty it wasn't all too bad, I was just being a baby. Although I think I should complain that it wasn't hot enough… wait I should complain that the liquid in the cup that spilled onto my chest and shirt didn't hurt enough to be considered "hot"? So I should be mad that I didn't get burnt… Shit, I'm more fucked up that I thought.
"Here please let me pay for another shirt and coffee," he begins to take out his wallet.
"I don't need your fucking money," I spat out and quickly shoved past him.
"Wait-" he yelled out for me, but I was too fast and was already out the door. I was definitely not waiting around, but what I couldn't seem to get out of my head was the pair of piercing gray eyes that belonged to the very handsome man.
Within minutes I was already in the elevator going up to the penthouse, annoyed that I have to take another shower, arriving back into my room I quickly slipped out of my clothes and rinsed off the coffee that made my skin so sticky. Deciding that I didn't want to do anything but curl up and sleep, I got into my bed and put on my earphones.
"Ana-" a voice and some pretty aggressive shaking was trying to wake me up. I stirred under the covers willing myself to go back to my dream, "Ana."
"Ugh," I groan, "what?" I ask still very much asleep.
Home? Finally letting myself open my eyes I see my uncle sat next to me on the bed, "Hey uncle Berto."
"Hello bambolina, I'm sorry I couldn't pick you up," he says kissing my forehead when I sit up from bed.
"It's okay, you were busy."
"Do you want to go to dinner with me?"
"Of course," I smile at him.
"We'll leave in half an hour, can you be ready by then?" he asks.
"Sure can," I reply. He gets up from my bed and walks around to my desk.
"You haven't opened it," he states.
"Yeah sorry," I shrug.
"You should, I don't want you to go without," he says simply.
"Dad gave me one," I inform him.
"Well now you have two, please use it," he insists.
"Alright," I concede, "I'll see you in half an hour."
"Good, I'll be waiting," he smiles at me, and then walks out the room.
My uncle and I had always gotten along, he was sort of the cool uncle that let me eat all the candy I wanted and whenever I went to NYC to visit he would always treat me like an adult, but still stay attentive. He use to live in the upper east side a few years ago, I guess he wanted to buy more property or found this place much better, I heard Katherine say that this was one of those white-glove buildings. Not exactly sure what that entails, but I know that it's pretty exclusive.
Getting in the washroom I quickly wash my face and put on the littlest amount of makeup, then quickly got changed into a deep violet cocktail dress that came a few inches above my knee and a pair of heels the same colour. I grabbed a clutch and headed out to meet him in the great room.
"You always impress me," he laughs, "you're always so quick."
"It's a talent," I say nonchalantly, "so where are we going?"
"This little Italian place that I bought recently."
"You're Italian, don't you get enough of it?"
"We're Italian and no, you can never eat enough Italian."
"Alright, alright lead the way."
"This is fantastic," I exclaim, biting into another forkful of my shrimp scampi.
"Isn't it, the place was going under, but I bought it out and turned it around."
"Well from the looks of it you did a pretty good job," I laugh.
"So what brings you to the city?" he finally asks, I know he's been itching to since we got here, "Your dad was pretty vague."
"I just wanted a change, Seattle was getting to be too small," I reply.
"I think there's more to that story," he says quickly.
"Oh well, it's in the past."
"It's nothing, just stupid shit."
This makes him laugh which made me roll my eyes at him, "You always had a colourful vocabulary."
"That I did," I giggle, I start eating again when his phone suddenly rings.
"Sorry, I have to take this," he says.
"That's okay," I reply, he gives me an apologetic smile and stands up.
"Luciano," his tone changes completely, "I'm out with my niece right now."
I wonder what that was about, after a few minutes my uncle returns in with a much more anxious demeanour.
"Ana, I'm so sorry, I have to go. There's an emergency I have to get to, James will be here to pick you up," he stands up again and gives me a kiss. Then his phone rings again.
"Luciano," he barks, making the other patrons jump in their seats. They're all looking at us with weird expressions, almost like they were scared.
"Coffee girl," the velvet voice whispered into my ear.
I turn my head quickly, "Fuck are you doing here." I know, I know, I don't know why I was so bitchy to him.
"Grey, what the fuck are you doing here," my uncle says with the most venom in his voice that it almost scared me. I looked around the room and everyone was becoming a lot more uncomfortable, I wonder what was wrong?
"Simply wanted to know what the fuss was all about," Grey replies, taking a seat next to me, "you've done wonders with the place."
"Get. Out," my uncle seethes, enunciating each word.
"I mean you no harm," Grey holds up his arms in mock surrender, "just wanted to compliment you."
So these two know each other, but how? Business? Why was my uncle so angry with him and why were all the diners looking like world war three was about to erupt?
"Uncle Berto-" I interject.
"Uncle Berto," Grey smirks a bit too sinister for my liking. "And here I thought you just liked them young and innocent," he looks at me with the continued smirk.
"Sir," a very tall and large Italian man came up to my uncle, "we have to go."
"In a minute Paul," my uncle dismisses him.
"I only wanted to see if coffee girl was all right from this afternoon," Grey wiggles his eyebrow at my uncle suggestively.
Uncle Berto's eyes filled with rage, "You're lucky I don't take you out right now."
"That wouldn't be good for business would it?" Grey says snidely. The entire restaurant grew quiet, what the hell was up with these nosey bastards? Then quickly two equally large men came up from behind him sort of like bodyguards.
"Ana, let's go," my uncle grabs my arm forcibly.
"Uh… okay," I say timidly. I don't know what was happening, but I know it couldn't be good.
"Ana?" Grey asks his eyes perking up, "beautiful name."
But before another word was said five more men came up behind my uncle and escorted us out, now I'm completely confused. Once we were out in the cool air I was quickly put into the same town car as earlier with James driving, my uncle slid in next to me and quickly called someone on his phone.
"Grey was at my restaurant," he says curtly, "I know… Yeah… I'll be there soon, I just have to see Ana home…. Yeah… FUCK!" my uncle yells at the end of the call and closes his eyes.
He takes a calming breath, "Sorry the night was ruined."
"It's okay, I'm tired anyway," I shrug, once we arrived outside our building my uncle steps out firsts and talks to a man outside. I think he was one of the guys in the restaurant.
"Bambolina, Samuel here will escort you upstairs," he informs me when I get out of the car.
"Okay, but why?"
"I'm just paranoid," he laughs, trying to brush it off.
I eye him carefully; he gives me a hug and tells me he'll be home soon. I look around and I notice two black SUVs parked around us, come to think of it they were there at the restaurant too. I understand paranoid, but this was a bit much.
"Goodnight, bambolina," he says as gets into an awaiting car… the car he drove us in to the restaurant. How did it get there? I suppose he could have had someone drive it back, but when? There were so many questions that I wanted answered.
"Goodnight," I say as Samuel escorted me upstairs.
New York is becoming stranger by the minute.
A/N: What did you guys think?