Page 83 of The Mob: Shio Cuppacio
Get your shit together, Shio.
Solana grumbled inaudible words as she rose from her slumber. I hadn't known anyone who could sleep like the fucking dead all day. Especially not a fully grown adult. Most of the women in our family, if they didn't have obligations like work or school, still got up at the crack of dawn because they looked forward to spending our fucking money. It was as if this girl didn't look forward to anything outside of partying, and since there hadn't been any of that going on, sleep was her only hobby.
I watched as she moved around in the bed. Her phone lit up on the nightstand, and that was another thing I noticed in my few days of observation—she didn't check it. I was sure the battery was fucked up because it had been on the charger for days, untouched. Hell, the only notifications she got were emails. I knew because I’d zoomed the camera in to see the first few days she was here. People might think I was going to extremes, but my safety and the safety of those around me had me doing whatever was necessary. I didn't know many women who weren't glued to their phones, either gossiping or scrolling through social media nonstop. Solana didn't do any of that shit, and that had me even more puzzled.
Who in the fuck was Solana Ledesma, and why had God put her in my path?
“It’s Saturday. No workout. I remember,” she groggily explained, like I didn't know the days of the week.
She’d cried, thrown up twice, and cursed more than a sailor during our workouts. She was feisty once she was comfortable, or rather, uncomfortable. I half expected her to walk out, but no matter how many bodily fluids were extracted from her body, whether it be tears, spit, sweat, or vomit, she kept going.
She was still on her back, but now her head had lifted from the pillow. Her hair was still in the braid I'd done, but now it looked more like a tangled vine than a neat plait. I was surprised she even let her hair get that matted. At first glance, you’d think Solana was a rich, spoiled daddy’s girl who never let a hair out of place. But if it weren't for my housekeeper, the room would reveal she wasn’t the cleanest or tidiest. She kept her hygiene decent enough, washing her ass and brushing her teeth. But she hadn't bothered to care for her hair or put on clothes to explore the area outside this room.
“It’s three thirty, Solana.”
Sitting upright, she stretched her arms above her head. The sports bra she was wearing was twisted, and as soon as she lifted her arms, the bottom half of her breast peeked out. Turning my head, I backed up three paces to flick the light switch. Her eyes squinted to adjust as the room turned from her personal hibernation cave into the bright, airy space it was meant to be. She fixed her bra and let her legs hang over the side of the bed. One side of her hair was mashed entirely to her head, while a few strands were stuck to her face. I was almost sure she’d gotten vomit in it the other day, so it needed a good wash and conditioning. If this was how she handled her hair’s upkeep, I didn’t understand how it had gotten so long, or how she’d managed to keep the length and density. It should’ve been broken off and damaged.
Now with her feet on the wood, she started rolling her head to stretch her neck. There was sleep in her eyes and dried drool on the side of her face, yet she was sitting in bed without a care in the world. Her daddy had given her to me to groom so she could blend in with the wolves, but she just didn't know, he’d placed her in the den of a fucking lion.
“Why am I awake again?” Her heavy accent was deeper than usual due to her still being sleepy.
She should’ve been rested enough to last her ass a lifetime.
Standing, she pulled the matching athletic shorts out of her crotch. They were high-waisted, but she had them folded down her abdomen, showing her smooth, dark hazelnut skin. As she popped her back, I backed out, nearing the door.
“We got somewhere to be, Solana.”
Her head swiftly shifted in my direction. There was a look of indifference on her face, and if she called herself reading me, she wouldn't succeed.Her eyes looked past me as three outrageously expensive motherfuckers entered her room: Lunar, Chimo, and Bruno—or Lamar, Chinko, and Bruna. I didn’t know which name they were going by today, and I didn’t give a fuck as long as they did what they do best. What I did know was that I’d had to shell out a ton of fucking money to have them leave Don’s estate just to come fix her up.
They each carried some type of trunk and had even more shit in the hallway.They were the official glam squad for the women of the mafia, and since I’d be bringing Solana around them, I knew that matted ball of fur on the top of her head wouldn’t cut it. They’d look at her like a lost puppy before looking at me like I’d lost my mind for bringing her.
The women of the mafia were always well-groomed, and most of the time, the three men barging into the room were the reasons behind the mob’s hefty credit card bills.These niggas looked like some shit straight out of the movieThe HungerGames. With their loud hair colors and eccentric attire, even though all three were in all black, they looked like they could wreak havoc. But I’d seen their work, and as peculiar as they looked, they were the best, according to what the wives said.
Solana pulled her shorts upright and crossed her arms over her chest. She’d even tried to wipe the eye boogers from her face. Crazy how she was shying away from three gay niggas but didn’t give two shits when it was just her and me.
Lunar clasped his hands while the other two gave her a silent inspection.
“This week, a hot new bombshell enters the villa.” Lunar giggled.
“Ohhhh, she’s pretty. Skin so flawless even with the dried-up spit,” Chimo added.
“You did good, Mr. Cuppacio. The body is bodying…”
“Thank you,” she dragged out, her accent now a little less heavy.
Instead of correcting Bruno on the fact that I hadn't done shit because Solana wasn’t mine, I let my eyes rake over her frame. My gaze lingered over her ass for a bit longer than it should have before I dragged it back up to her face. Solana’s dark eyes were on me, and her cheeks had grown flushed.She continued to eye me as I eyed her while the trio moved into her space more, now circling her and humming. I needed to break eye contact, but she had me cemented.
Hell no, Shio.
“We got us an Afro Mexicana? Yassss! I am Lunar. I’m in charge of the hair, and it looks like I have my work cut out.” He frowned while holding up a string of the mangled hair.
I was thankful for the interruption because, for a second, it felt like Solana and I were eye fucking each other, and that was a no-go.
“This is Chimo, he does the nails and little piggies on your feet, and this is Bruno, he does the makeup. ¿Hay algún look específico que queramos lograr esta noche? (Is there a certain look we are going for this evening?)”
“No estoy seguro de cuál es la ocasión (I’m not sure what the occasion is).”
Solana looked at me as if to ask for help on that matter, but I avoided her eyes as I looked at the trio with a down-payment price tag.
