Mafia Kings: Roberto: Chapter 22

The waiter seated us at the best table in the restaurant. Moments later, Mei-ling and I were feasting on osso buco – a braised shank of veal that was so tender it nearly fell off the bone. It was one of the most delicious things I’d ever tasted.

“So,” I asked her, “does this qualify as one of the most interesting experiences you’ve ever had?”

She gave me an amused look. “Yes. I have to admit, it does.”

“That’s saying something,” I teased her, “coming from the owner of a BDSM club.”

“Well, that sort of thing becomes commonplace after a while. But I’ve never eaten inside the kitchen of a restaurant before. Are you friends with the chef?”

“No. We’d never met before tonight.”

She stared at me. “What?!”

“In fact, this afternoon was the first time I’d ever spoken to him.”

“Then how the hell did you pull this off?!” She looked at me sideways. “Just a lot of money?”

“No. I take it you noticed he’s particularly interested in wine?”

“I did happen to notice that, yes,” she said with a sardonic smile.

“Well, my family owns an excellent vineyard that produces a very limited number of bottles each year. He’d drunk some of our wine in the past and loved it, so I promised I’d ship him a case of one of our best vintages if he would roll out the red carpet.”

Mei-ling tilted her head to the side as though she was impressed. “Is winemaking the family business?”

“No… it’s more of a side hustle these days.”

I didn’t particularly want to talk about the main way we made our money.

“I’m a little disappointed, though,” she said.

“Oh? About what?”

She gave me a naughty little smile. “You won the bet. Now I don’t get to punish you.”

“Maybe if you play your cards right.”

She burst out laughing.

It was one of the most beautiful sounds I’d ever heard.

“So,” I said, then paused.

“Uh-oh – it sounds like you’re about to broach a serious topic,” she teased.

“It doesn’t have to be. Although, considering how badly I misstepped last time, I wanted to make sure I didn’t do the same thing again.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re not going to proposition me again, are you?”

“NO,” I said vehemently. “Definitely not.”

She smiled, then shrugged. “I was… a little harsh.”

“A little?”

“You deserved it.”

“I did,” I admitted.

She laughed again.

As long as she kept laughing, I could have listened to her all night.

“Alright. What do you want to ask?”

“Well… you’re the owner of a BDSM club.”

“Mm-hmm?”

“And you keep talking about wanting to punish me.”

“You were the one who made it part of the initial agreement,” she pointed out.

“True,” I admitted. “But you seemed rather enthusiastic about it.”

“That was mostly to unnerve you. Did it work?”

“No. It just enticed me.”

“Not the worst outcome, then,” she said flirtatiously.

“So am I correct in assuming you participate in De Sade’s… ‘activities’?”

She smiled slyly before answering.

“On occasion. Not at the club, though. Never at the club. I keep my personal life and work life separate.”

“That’s wise. What is it you like to do, if I might ask?”

“Oh no. For every question you ask, I get to ask one.”

“Fair enough. Go ahead.”

“Are you in the scene?”

“The ‘scene’?” I asked, mystified.

“The BDSM community. I mean, you did come to my club, so…”

I pondered for a few seconds before I answered.

“My interests intersect with the community… but no, I’m not in the ‘scene.’”

“Why not?”

“I have to be extremely discreet.”

“Why?”

“That’s more than one question.”

She smiled seductively. “I’ll let you ask more than one when it’s your turn. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

“Why do you have to be discreet?”

“My family wouldn’t exactly understand my… specific desires.”

“And what are these ‘specific desires’?”

I stared directly into her eyes. “Control.”

She didn’t look away. “Domination?”

“I guess you could call it that.”

“So you’re a Dom?” she asked.

“I don’t put a name on it.”

“What is it that – ”

“I think it’s my turn to ask the questions.”

She laughed silently, that little motion of her shoulders I found so charming. “All right.”

“Are you a dominatrix?”

“I mean… I’ve done that in the past as part of my job, but it’s not what I enjoy.”

“What do you enjoy?”

She blushed as she stared into my eyes.

“I like being tied up,” she said quietly.

At the sight of her blushing and the whisper in her voice, I was more turned on than I had been in years.

My voice was husky as I said, “Tell me what you – ”

“No,” she interrupted. “I get to ask you a question now.”

I thought about refusing and bending her to my will…

But I was enjoying our little dance too much.

So I said, “Alright.”

“When did you first know? What you like, I mean.”

“When I was 20.”

“What happened?”

I thought about answering her…

About telling her the story of my first experience…

But it felt too soon.

So I playfully looked at my watch instead. “Oh, no – look at the time. I have to get you back to work.”

“NO!” she cried out and laughed at the same time, slapping her hand against my arm.

I shrugged. “What can I do? I promised.”

“You coward!” she said as she continued to laugh.

“Not at all,” I said with a smile. “I’m just not going to tell you that story here.”

“Why not?”

“It’s private. And slightly scandalous. Not for your club, obviously – but for an establishment like this, it’s a bit risqué, and I wouldn’t want it overheard.”

She looked at me sideways. After a long pause, she asked, “Where would you tell me, then?”

“At your place. Over a drink.”

She looked at me for a long moment…

Then said quietly, “Alright.”

My heart skipped a beat.

“Alright, then,” I replied. “I’ll get the check… we’ll go back to your place… and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

She stared at me, her eyes two dark pools of desire. “Okay.”

I signaled to the waiter for the check, then looked back at her. “Don’t you need to call the club to let them know you won’t be back?”

She gave me a mischievous smile. “I’m the boss. I don’t have to let them know anything.”