Taken By The Mafia Lord

"W-what?" He woke up confused.

What has he done?

Marcel asked when he saw Arianna sleeping soundly beside him, arms wrapped around his waist securely and she was naked. That made his brows furrow, he didn't remember getting into bed with her.

Nonetheless, a small smile curved his lips when he saw the way she cuddled around him like a jealous cat who didn't want to share his owner with another - and she said he was possessive.

Marcel reached out, about to remove her red locks from her face and his memories from last night resurfaced, making him wince in pain. His head was throbbing, just what in the world had he done last night?

However, all of his memories returned and his hand reaching for Arianna froze in the air. Marcel instantly withdrew his hand, and the next he was carefully untangling himself from her so he doesn't wake her. He couldn't deal with her right now, Marcel was sure of that.

He picked up his clothes from the ground where they were littered and only put on his trousers and left the room else she woke up. However, the moment he stepped out of the room, he almost bumped into Winters.

"Just where I thought you would be," Winters commented, looking him all over with her arms placed firmly on her waist, "What the hell is wrong with you, asshole? Do you know how much Arianna was worried about you last night and you even had the nerve to tell me to fuck off?"

Winters was one of the few people who could talk to Marcel that way without fear of being killed. But then everything had a limit and Marcel kind of deserved it for being shitty last night. However, Marcel's head was killing him and she was being too loud right now.

"Can we talk about that later," Marcel groaned, rubbing his temple to relieve the pain. Hangovers were bitchy and he had a feeling that Victor intentionally didn't feed him a drug last night to counter the effects. That cousin of his was a real definition of a masochist.

[In Victor's defense, Marcel didn't exactly thank him for helping him out yesterday. In one word, beggars are not choosers.]

"Damn, you look like shit," Winters observed him, "In this state, are you sure you could pull off the mission tonight?"

Bam.

That was when Marcel remembered he shouldn't have been drinking because he dad rescuing Chloe today. His mind needed to be clear and he was supposed to be fit. Just what has he been thinking.

"I need coffee," He said gruffly, already moving ahead when Winters said,

"I'll see Arianna then."

Marcel moved as swiftly as the wind when he grabbed Winter's arm and stopped her from touching the doorknob. Winters gasped with a startle, looking at Marcel with a bit of shock. What was wrong with him?

"What?" She breathed, confused.

"Don't bother her," The hardened look in his eyes told Winters that he wasn't joking.

"O-okay?" Winters lifted her free hand in surrender, "You can let go of my hand now," She reminded him that he was gripping her arm quite tightly if she might add.

Marcel let go of her arm with a jerk as if he too was shocked at his action. The moment Winters reached for that knob, his heart almost jumped out of his chest and the one thought that came to his head was that she was about to wake Arianna and he just reacted.

He had stressed Arianna last night and she needed all the rest that she could get nor was he ready to face her. He was rescuing his sister today and he needed his head in the game. So there was no way he was about to open up to Arianna and tell her that her mother was the reason his mother got maltreated during her marriage to his father.

Marcel was not sure Arianna was ready to handle the news either and that emotional turmoil was not what he needed right now. Perhaps, he would tell her the whole truth another day, not today. He would figure out how to go about everything then.

Winters shook her head, staring at Marcel pitifully, "You are a real piece of work and you're lucky to have someone like Arianna to deal with it." She tsked and left him.

Marcel stood at the spot, conflicted. He sighed, running his hand through his hair. He turned to stare at the door and at war with himself - he needed her and at the same, wanted to be away from her. With a frustrated growl, he left for his room where he washed up and prepared for the important day.

He returned to the meeting room where his cousin Victor was already waiting for him with a cup of steaming coffee and Marcel's face fell.

"You don't seem that excited to see me, cousin?" Victor greeted him with that usual smile that told Marcel if his cousin ever switched to the dark side and became his enemy, then he was truly fucked.

"Not now, Victor," Marcel told him, going inside.

"You don't even want your coffee, darkly roasted as you always wanted it," Victor tempted him.

And Marcel halted in his step, baited already. He turned around and took the coffee from Victor and stopped.

"How do I know that you didn't add something to this coffee?" He gave his cousin a suspicious look, there was just something off about him today.

"That's it," Victor gave him a charming smile, "You don't know, you just take it and wait for the moment you die,"

"Haha, funny," Marcel laughed sarcastically before swallowing down the whole content of his coffee and waited for a few minutes. Nothing happened.

"That was not funny," He said to Victor.

"Neither was your drama yesterday, funny. So come on, open up, bro, or I might end up visiting your beloved father and finding out the truth myself. And you of all people know that it's only going to end up, ugly. " Victor was deadly serious.