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mafia passion

mafia passion

mary leterman

5.0
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Zander walked through the wide doors Demetrou glazing Investments. _ Good morning Mr. Demetered. _ said Helena, one of your receptionists. _ Good morning Helena. is even more beautiful than yesterday. _ he said to him giving a wink, making the almost fifty year old lady blush at the praise. _ And you are more gallant than yesterday. _ she returned, smiling while the other two receptionists warned the hair to get your attention. _ You deserve the best of me. _ he teased and then turned to the two other women. _ Good Morning Amber, Alexa... But it was a polite greeting and nothing like what he dedicated to Helena. After all Helena was a woman of older and happily married. Zander wouldn't risk playing the same way with Amber and Alexa, who did everything to call their Warning. Never get involved with employees satnodp tpheedy t arylli nkng etwo cita,l lb yuotu nrever Warning. Aa two replied in unison as he walked away to the private elevator. Enter your password on the panel and the doors started to close while listening to the sighs and girls comments. _ What envy, Helena. _ said Amber. _ If he greeted me like that way every morning would have to bring extra panties. _ commented Alexa, making others laugh two. _ Shut up girl. If Zander hears something like that could get her fired. Him does not engage with female employees. _ Helen explained. Zander didn't hear the rest of the conversation, but I didn't need to. The look the two threw at each other him every time attended the company already reported his thoughts. The elevator stopped a few minutes later at the penultimate floor where your office. Lucca, his secretary looked up of the documents on your desk and to the see him got up quickly. He was a man of almost forty years old, tall and muscular worked for Zander as secretary and security.

Chapter 1 Best friend

Keeping my eyes on the screen, I press the buttons on the joystick almost instinctively, while looking for bugs, glitches and

other failures. Besides, of course, wanting to beat up the guy who is beside me and playing as a second player – and not happy,

worth mentioning. Normally, we would hire a game tester, but we need to introduce the beta version in three days. We are

working on this project for almost a year and we have to convince investors that the game has the potential to be a blockbuster

sales.

And everything depends on this presentation. Everything!

"I think we should adapt that part. - Jean, my best friend and co-worker, he comments - Or maybe

there is a bug in the transition between scenarios. - I thought the same thing. - I answer - Let's include that

in the fnal report. We remain focused on our work, making several

breaks and writing down what needs to be corrected, but as soon as I notice

there are no more mistakes, I allow myself to relax and give the beating that

intended from the beginning and my friend also gets into the mode

competitive. It's just not enough to stop me. Jean practically throws the joystick on the couch and groans.

I chuckle at her irritated – and hilarious, expression.

ticket. "I can't believe you won again.

- Well, I developed the game.

"Me too, damn it!" "So you're just a bad player anyway.

My friend gives me the middle fnger and mutters "asshole"

when getting up. Of course I burst out laughing. the way he is moody and hates to lose is ridiculously funny. Although,

I admit, I can't judge him too much, as I also hate losing. I'm quite competitive. Too much, sometimes.

We organized the sheets with the notes in a folder and

we leave the meeting room, aware that we have a lot of work to do

ahead until this Thursday's presentation.

"I think we're going to have to stay overnight." Jean says,

sitting in your chair. "Let's try to streamline a few things here after

pass the report along to the rest of the team and make a

video call when we get home.

He agrees and, without further ado, we place our hand on the

pasta. I graduated from the 'Game Design' course three years ago and

I got a job at the company where I am today, still in my

last year. I started as an intern and reached a permanent position of

designer times later. This is also where I met Jean. He is

four years older than me, as is my wife,

But that didn't stop us from becoming great friends. Being

honestly, he's pretty much the only friend I have besides

from Hajime and Nath.

I was a bit of a recluse in high school. was always

dressed in band t-shirts and all in black. he was shy

too much with strangers and preferred to keep to myself while

listened to Linkin Park albums – my favorite band –

on MP3, hidden in the classroom. Not that I was completely

Isolated, far from it. He did have some colleagues with whom he used to

go out from time to time, but it wasn't uncommon for me to choose

company of books or music. Let's say I was what they called "dark". Being around girls then was an impossible task.

for me. He would get so fustered and fustered that he'd run away before

of being able to say a measly 'Hi!' , which apparently caused

that I would become popular with them. My embarrassed way was

strangely attractive and, while I wanted distance, they

wanted to approach.

Even though my face was considered pretty, my body

was slight and I looked way too young for my age – what

it hasn't changed despite my current 26 years. I just started to

develop even at the age of eighteen to nineteen, when I had

a sudden growth and my muscles were developing

because of boxing. I practically became another guy when I joined

at university, when I decided to really change, to be

more sociable and maybe have my frst kiss and lose my virginity –

I wasn't lying when I said I had serious problems with me.

approach girls. Jean and I extended an hour after hours, however,

we decided to fnish the changes at home. I check on my cell phone

gave Ève time to leave work, planning to meet her for

back together, and it's only then that I notice that he's sent a message

minutes ago saying she's going to be late because she's wrapped up in

workshop.

"I left your favorite dish in the fridge. Love you!" , is what she

responds after I ask if I should buy or prepare the

dinner, followed by "I'm having dinner with the boys". I stay a little

surprised, yet immensely grateful. She must have done before

to leave in the morning. I need to think of something to repay her later.

I have some very interesting ideas in mind. - Is Eve coming to pick you up? my friend asks. - Not. - I put the backpack on my back - You'll have to tell me

hold on to the subway.

"How lucky for me, isn't it?" In addition to spending the whole day

by your side and doomed to spend the night too, now I'm

forced to look at your face until you go home. -

fakes a sigh - I'm starting to suspect you're married

with me. I laugh. But it's a fact that I'm spending more time with

him than with my wife because of the project; we go to the

elevator and greet the security guard.

"Want to stop somewhere for dinner, then?" - Not worth. Eve left my favorite dish prepared.

- Okay. No restaurant can compete with that. "You should come over for dinner one of these days. What about

after the presentation?

"Aren't you going to run?" I mean, Eve has the job

her, and it would be kind of last minute. - That is true. But whatever, I cook.

"Now that I'm not going anyway." - do one

queasy grimace - I still haven't forgotten what a disaster that was.

thing you insisted on calling fricassĂȘ. I have nightmares

until today. "Fuck you!" - I rage - It was the frst time I

I cooked a dish like that. Of course, it wouldn't be perfect. I

I'm not a culinary genius like you. Sorry. - All right. I apologize. I control myself not to curse him and say with conviction: "Believe it or not, my fricassee is much better.

now. - Sincerely? I prefer not to risk it. Jean makes the sign of the cross and kisses her fngers in a fgurine. And me

I want to punch him.

- Wants to know? Forget the invitation and don't even think about

show up at my house. Idiot. My best friend bursts out laughing, calling out to

people's attention on the platform, and puts his hand on my shoulder

before saying: - I wonder how Eve puts up with a person

as moody as you. I point down, and as soon as he looks up even though he doesn't

understand, I show the middle fnger surreptitiously. He laughs again and

I end up imitating; the train fnally stops at the station. Due to the timetable, the carriages are not full, which is

a real relief.

Jean and I said goodbye at Charles de

Gaulle Etoile. Each one goes their own way. I get off the subway and

I decide to take a taxi to the 10th arrondissement [1], the neighborhoodfrom EntrepĂŽt, where our apartment is located. It's not a very nice place

large, considering that space is a real luxury in Paris,

but it suits our needs well. It's our corner. Our home. The main stage of our adventures. As soon as I get home, I fnd the silence of the

Eve's absence. The atmosphere is completely different when

she is. Receptions are noisy and full of kisses, which I

I love it, I have to admit. Besides the occasions I meet her

arguing with the tv while watching series or experimenting

some new recipe in the kitchen. We both take turns preparing

of meals, though, she's a thousand times better at cooking than I am. Their apple pie literally makes me lick the plate. I look at our wedding picture hanging on the wall and

I smile, before walking into the bedroom to rip off her clothes.

a whole day and take a shower and then have dinner.

I always believed that when you fnd true love,

bells would ring the instant my eyes came across

this person. It's kind of silly, I know that, I just got this idea

fxed after watching a movie. And, coincidentally, that's what

happened when I met my wife. However, instead of

bells, it was those bells over the door that rang and that

it didn't even resemble a bloody bell. But, well, I guess so too

it was valid. After all, we got married.

The way we met, in my sophomore year at

Game Design course, it was funny and unexpected. followed

a colleague to the garage where she worked, close to campus, and

not even the grease-stained overalls made it lookless attractive to my eyes. Her hair was long

time and were tied with a blue bandana. There was one

grease smudge on your cheek too, and yet, when

the doorbell rang behind my back, I knew

would fall in love with that short woman.

Whether I want to admit it or not, I am a very romantic person,

those who believe in love at frst sight and soulmates.

Everything that most consider balela or even a little tacky.

Eve was my frst in everything. My frst kiss, my frst time, my frst

girlfriend. And today, more than my wife, it is with her that

I share my other frsts. Although my parents were a little reluctant with the

our decision to marry, considering my young age in

time, they adore Eve and say the best thing I did,

went to marry her. Sometimes it even seems that she is their daughter, instead of

from me, from so much that they pamper her. all attention

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second I expected her to be complaining or even rambling angrily at me, but she doesn't. And this is just a sample of the many times she just keeps her head down and continues her work, while I can't control my animal side around her. "Shit!" I snort to myself and close my door. I go to my chair and throw myself into it, unable to think straight anymore. My life has become a mess, and a large part of it is the fault of a woman who doesn't even notice my looks at her. Ever since I saw her photo and her resume, when I looked for an employee at the company to be my personal assistant for a while, I find myself unable to control myself. Her brown eyes, which further highlight her dark skin, the color of sin, and a weak white smile, which she almost never shows, but her photo was my ally in this fact. I pick up the folder with her information again and look at the same photo that left me perplexed when I saw her for the first time. Since when did I see myself like this for a woman? Not even with Carla was it like this... I take a deep breath, leaving the photo on my desk and try not to scream another curse. At first, when I returned to Brazil, I had clear reasons and a right thing to do. But since life loves to play tricks, when I realized everything, my sister had already suffered an accident and lost part of her memory, and worse, I couldn't keep her from being close to her husband, who was my best friend, and was even capable of betraying her, also being the one to blame for the accident. If I returned, it was to tell my sister about what I found out about her husband, but in the end, a mess took over all of us. For now, we just hope that she gets better and her memory returns, so that she can decide what to do with her life. And me? For the first time, I want to be able to truly take care of my sister, truly protect her, stop being a selfish piece of shit. A soft knock on the door makes me sigh and I lean back against my chair. "Come in." The door opens, and the woman who drives me crazy enters. Doesn't she realize what she does to me? Ever since I saw her in person, I've been waiting for some look, some hint of interest. But on the contrary, Sophie seems completely oblivious to me. As if I were invisible to her. I always wonder why I never saw her on the trips I made to Brazil and on the many times I came to company parties or even meetings, but I could never really understand it. I know that if I had seen her, she would have caught my attention. - Mr. Lourenzinni, here are the papers you asked for. - she says, calmly as always, and places a folder on my desk. - Do you need anything else? - she asks, but doesn't look at me, looking slightly anywhere in the room, except at me. - Look at me, Sophie. - I ask, saying her name for the first time. I like the way it comes out of my lips. She blinks, I think she's surprised by my request, but then she lifts her chin and looks at me. Her brown eyes are a little hesitant, but I can't understand anything else about her. Besides, she's beautiful, completely. - Is there a problem, sir? - she asks and I shake my head. - You can leave. - I say, and she nods, leaving the room immediately. I wish I could have controlled myself, but I used my usual harsh tone with her. Why does she do this to me? It seems that at any moment I am near her, noticing her indifference, I will explode. I think that is why I cannot treat her well, at least wish her a good morning. This woman moves me in a way that no other woman has ever managed to do. But I do not know how to move on, at least not for now. For now, I am concentrating on work. However, knowing that the woman who drives me crazy is just a few steps away only makes everything worse. I am lost. Months later Sophie I stare at the computer screen, while I try to control the frustration I feel. I read and reread what is written on the screen, and I feel like correcting the meaning of dictator in the dictionary itself. One of the meanings is missing: Daniel Lourenzinni. I have never been one to get stressed or even suffer because of something at work, but since the day I was called to go to my boss's

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snort to myself and close my door. I go to my chair and throw myself into it, unable to think straight anymore. My life has become a mess, and a large part of it is the fault of a woman who doesn't even notice my looks at her. Ever since I saw her photo and her resume, when I looked for an employee at the company to be my personal assistant for a while, I find myself unable to control myself. Her brown eyes, which further highlight her dark skin, the color of sin, and a weak white smile, which she almost never shows, but her photo was my ally in this fact. I pick up the folder with her information again and look at the same photo that left me perplexed when I saw her for the first time. Since when did I see myself like this for a woman? Not even with Carla was it like this... I take a deep breath, leaving the photo on my desk and try not to scream another curse. At first, when I returned to Brazil, I had clear reasons and a right thing to do. But since life loves to play tricks, when I realized everything, my sister had already suffered an accident and lost part of her memory, and worse, I couldn't keep her from being close to her husband, who was my best friend, and was even capable of betraying her, also being the one to blame for the accident. If I returned, it was to tell my sister about what I found out about her husband, but in the end, a mess took over all of us. For now, we just hope that she gets better and her memory returns, so that she can decide what to do with her life. And me? For the first time, I want to be able to truly take care of my sister, truly protect her, stop being a selfish piece of shit. A soft knock on the door makes me sigh and I lean back against my chair. "Come in." The door opens, and the woman who drives me crazy enters. Doesn't she realize what she does to me? Ever since I saw her in person, I've been waiting for some look, some hint of interest. But on the contrary, Sophie seems completely oblivious to me. As if I were invisible to her. I always wonder why I never saw her on the trips I made to Brazil and on the many times I came to company parties or even meetings, but I could never really understand it. I know that if I had seen her, she would have caught my attention. - Mr. Lourenzinni, here are the papers you asked for. - she says, calmly as always, and places a folder on my desk. - Do you need anything else? - she asks, but doesn't look at me, looking slightly anywhere in the room, except at me. - Look at me, Sophie. - I ask, saying her name for the first time. I like the way it comes out of my lips. She blinks, I think she's surprised by my request, but then she lifts her chin and looks at me. Her brown eyes are a little hesitant, but I can't understand anything else about her. Besides, she's beautiful, completely. - Is there a problem, sir? - she asks and I shake my head. - You can leave. - I say, and she nods, leaving the room immediately. I wish I could have controlled myself, but I used my usual harsh tone with her. Why does she do this to me? It seems that at any moment I am near her, noticing her indifference, I will explode. I think that is why I cannot treat her well, at least wish her a good morning. This woman moves me in a way that no other woman has ever managed to do. But I do not know how to move on, at least not for now. For now, I am concentrating on work. However, knowing that the woman who drives me crazy is just a few steps away only makes everything worse. I am lost. Chapter 1 Months later Sophie I stare at the computer screen, while I try to control the frustration I feel. I read and reread what is written on the screen, and I feel like correcting the meaning of dictator in the dictionary itself. One of the meanings is missing: Daniel Lourenzinni. I have never been one to get stressed or even suffer because of something at work, but since the day I was called to go to my boss's office, that has changed. I immediately thought it was Mr. Gutterman, but as soon as they showed me to the room next to his and I looked into the clearest honey-colored eyes I had ever seen, I knew it wasn't him. Ever since I was a receptionist

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