The Mafia King’s Doll

43



Samantha

With my first appointment at Paradiso scheduled for seven thirty, I take my time showering and getting ready.

The apprehensive part of me thinks I’m insane for joining the club. People go there to have wild sex, and here I am, just wanting to talk to a man.

Maybe I should cancel.

Checking my reflection in the mirror, I take in the black dress I’m wearing and wonder whether it’s too formal. Then again, I don’t think jeans would be appropriate.

“You look fine,” I whisper before turning away from the mirror.

Just as I gather my keys from the side table near the front door, my phone starts to ring. I answer the call and position the device between my shoulder and ear before opening the front door.

“Samantha speaking.” “Hey, sweetie. It’s Mom.”

“Oh hey,” I say, my tone a little lighter. “How are you?”

“Good. I’m calling to let you know I won the knitting contest. Your mother is a whole two-hundred-and-fifty dollars richer.”

A grin spreads over my face while I lock the door, and as I head out of my apartment building, I chuckle, “Wow, I’m so proud of you. What did you knit?”

“Nothing. We just knitted to see who’s the fastest.” From the chopping sounds, I assume Mom’s busy preparing dinner. “How are things in New

York?”

“I can’t complain. Work has been super busy since I got the promotion.”

My eyes keep darting around me as I walk to the nearest subway station. Unless it’s for work, I seldom leave the safety of my apartment.

It’s uncanny how one person’s actions can change your entire perspective about people. I never had trust issues until I met Todd. Now I live in constant fear that everyone is out to hurt me.

“Just don’t overdo it,” Mom says. I hear sizzling in the background before she asks, “Have you met anyone new?”

Wanting to set her mind at ease, I lie, “Yes. I’m actually on my way to a date.”

“Oh, really? I’m so glad to hear that. What’s he like?”

Shit.

“I don’t know him so well yet.” Needing to get off the topic of my love life, I say, “I’m also going to the movies on Saturday with Jenny.”

I met Jenny in the admin department. She just kept trying until I gave up and accepted her friendship. It took a while to get used to her bubbly personality, but eight months later, she’s my best friend.

“I thought she was on vacation with her boyfriend?” “She got back today.”

There’s a moment’s silence, then Mom asks, “We’re still seeing you for your Dad’s birthday party, right?”

“Yes, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Unless Mr. Vitale cancels the vacation time I requested before getting the promotion.

I’ll have to ask him about it tomorrow.

“Thanks for the call, Mom, but I have to go.” “Sure. I’ll talk to you next week.”

Tucking my phone into my handbag, I take the subway to the heart of Manhattan, and as I near the club, my stomach begins to spin with nerves.

Chill. You’re just going to have a conversation with a man.

The club assured me there are security measures to ensure every member’s safety.

My steps slow down as I near the entrance to the club. The words Paradiso are in large gold letters across the wall, and a red carpet leads up to the door where a bouncer is standing guard.

A Rolls Royce stops in front of the entrance, and I watch as a woman who seems to be in her fifties gets out of the expensive vehicle.

There’s an air of wealth surrounding her as she walks into the club.

If she can do it, so can you. If you feel uncomfortable, you can leave at any time.

Lifting my chin, I suck in a deep breath before I walk toward the bouncer. The man’s eyes settle on me, and it makes me feel a hundred times more nervous.

His tone makes him sound like a butler when he says, “Evening, Ma’am. Just a moment.”

I glance around us while I wait, then the bouncer says, “Welcome, Miss Blakely. Seeing it’s your first time visiting Paradiso, just follow the hallway to where you’ll be met by one of the staff members.”

My eyebrow darts up. “How did you know who I am?”

Giving me a smile, he gestures to a camera above the doorway. “The security team notified me.”

Wow. Fancy.

Nodding at him, I enter the building. My hands clutch the strap of my handbag as I take in the gray walls and black tiles. Soft yellow light shines

from the ceiling, and I see someone dressed in black waiting for me up ahead.

My gaze locks on the black ski mask with a skeleton face the person is wearing, and I consider making a U-turn.

That’s not intimidating at all.

I understand the masks are to protect their identities, but damn, they could’ve gone with something more subtle.

“Evening, Miss Blakely,” the woman says. “Would you like to take a seat with me, so we can discuss any questions you might have?”

An awkward smile brushes over my lips. “Please.” “This way,” she murmurs.

I follow her to an area that looks comfortable. There are couches and tables where people are seated together and enjoying drinks.

I love the ferns situated between the tables. It gives the couples some privacy.

A bar counter lines the one wall, and servers move between the tables and couches.

The atmosphere feels professional, and it helps ease my apprehensiveness a little.

“Please take a seat,” the woman assigned to welcome me says.

Turning my attention to her, I sit down on a black leather couch and place my handbag on my lap.

My eyes lock on her brown ones, and not knowing what to say, I wait for her to talk first.

“Welcome to Paradiso.”

I can’t tell if she’s smiling.

“Thank you.”

“We want to assure you that your privacy comes first. Whatever you choose to do will remain between you and your partner or partners.”

Partners. Hell has a better chance of freezing over.

“You’ve requested to have a conversation with a man. Is that right?” “Yes.”

“You didn’t give any requirements for age, personality, or looks.”

“None of that matters.” Feeling uncomfortable, I grip my handbag tighter. “I just want a man I can talk to.”

“Whatever you want.” She gestures for a server to come closer. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Yeah, sure. A martini would be nice.”

She places the order before looking at me again. “I want to assure you that this is a safe space where you can explore and live out your fantasies. There are cameras everywhere, and we have a zero-tolerance policy should a member break the rules the other party has put in place.”

I nod and glance at the other people, wondering which man I’ll be talking to.

“Do you have any questions?” she asks. “Not at the moment.”

“I’ll leave you then to enjoy your evening. Should your request change during the course of the evening, just notify any of the staff members, and they’ll assist you.”

Nodding, I watch as she gets up and leaves, and feeling more anxious, I start to nibble on my bottom lip.

I glance at the other members again and find everything…normal.

I expected a raunchy vibe. People getting it on wherever there’s an empty space, but this place is pretty decent.

The server brings me a martini, and I murmur, “Thank you.”

Needing all the liquid courage I can get, I take a couple of sips, and just as I pop the olive into my mouth, a man approaches me.

Shit. Here we go.

He seems to be in his forties, his salt and pepper hair graying at his temples.

When he reaches me, I stand up and say, “Hi, I’m Samantha.”

A crooked smile tugs at his mouth, and he looks just as nervous as I feel.

“Hi, I’m Doyle. It’s nice to meet you.”

When I take a seat again, and just stare at each other. When it’s clear he’s not going to talk first, I clear my throat and let out a nervous chuckle. “This isn’t awkward at all.”

His smile widens a little. “Yeah. Is this your first time coming here?” “Yes. I thought I’d give it a try. And you?”

“I’m a virgin as well.”

Alrighty then.

We smile awkwardly at each other before I take another sip of my drink.

Doyle relaxes back against the couch and glances around, and I take the moment to stare at him.

He seems harmless. The man has zero body muscle, so there’s a good chance I can beat him in a fight.Content rights belong to NôvelDrama.Org.

The thought helps me relax enough to ask, “What do you like to do in your spare time?”

His eyes snap back to me, and he thinks for a moment before he answers, “I never miss a chance to go camping. I love fishing and hunting. Do you like being outdoors?”

No. I don’t do bugs and wild animals.

“I’m not much of a camping and fishing gal. I love spending a weekend in a cabin up in the mountains or going to the beach.”

“Oh. Okay,” he replies, not sounding impressed with me. “So, what do you do for a living?”

“I’m a PA, and you?” “I’m an accountant.”

He glances around us again while I finish the rest of my martini.

I expected to have a panic attack, but instead, I might die of boredom.

It’s a good thing.

Smiling, my muscles relax, and when Doyle looks at me again, he looks a little bewildered as he stammers, “Y-you’re pretty when y-you smile.”

His face goes beet red, and it makes me feel sorry for the guy.

“I think we’re doing great as first-timers,” I say, hoping it will help him relax.

“Yeah?”

Nodding, I chuckle. “We haven’t made a run for it yet. I’m totally taking it as a win.”

“Right.” He waves at a server and orders a beer.

The server picks up my empty glass and asks, “Would you like another martini, Miss Blakely?”

“Please.”

When we’re alone again, Doyle asks, “Why are you here?”

To regain some of the control I’ve lost and to learn to trust men again. My smile wavers as I answer, “Just to have a conversation. And you?” “Even though we live in a city with a population of eight million, it’s

hard meeting like-minded people, and dating apps aren’t my cup of tea.”

I glance to the side and lock eyes with one of the staff members who’s standing with his arms crossed over his chest while watching us.

Wow. They really take security seriously here.

Even though he’s dressed the same as all the other staff, it’s clear as daylight the man spends a lot of time in the gym by the way his clothes fit his body.

I’m still staring at the staff member when he walks away. There’s something familiar about how he moves, but then the server pulls my attention away as a martini is placed on the table between Doyle and me.


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