Mob Sorcery 2 - Ch18

Chapter 18

The capo bar held the same appearance as always, only with a lot more wolfgirls inside it. Four wolffolk bartenders worked the L-shaped bar that occupied one corner, including Liz, the bartender who had introduced herself last time. Stools had been conjured from somewhere and dragged up to the counter, while the dozens of other enforcers spread out across the tables on one side and the couches and booths on the other.

Notably, more than just capos drank the night away. Vince guessed at least half the wolfgirls here were regular enforcers. That included Lucia, Alessia’s bodyguard, who had cleaned off the blood from the battle against Juliet but still bore scars that would take hours or even days to heal.

Most healing infusions took hours to heal even minor lacerations. Alessia definitely gave her bodyguards good ones, and the fact Lucia had been fighting Juliet even after taking major wounds was proof of that, but healing every last cell took time.

Except when Vince drank Ally’s infusion. Other than the hole in his clothing, he looked and felt fine. Although the fact every wolfgirl in the room turned and stared at that hole suggested he might want to find a new shirt soon.

“Um, Fia—” he tried to say.

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll have somebody fetch you a shirt. I’ve got your size already.”

“You do?” Lucia asked as she approached with a grin. “Damn, you have moved fast. Finding a good mate to make your pa happy?”

Fia shoved the other wolf, who simply snickered. By now, the atmosphere had returned to normal, albeit with more than a few enforcers eyeing Vince off.

Not that he could approach the bar. Finding somewhere to sit might prove hard, although he suspected Fia and Pola could scare up seats without even trying. Ignoring Vanna, who hovered by a booth in the corner with another capo and a couple of enforcers, the rest of the Lionettis seemed to respect the duo that actually ran the mafia on the ground. If they didn’t, Vince doubted Fia would get much done.

Lucia slipped in front of Vince. She leaned forward, one hand drifting toward his face.

“Well, if Fia isn’t keeping you company, why don’t you join me in one of the VIP rooms?” Lucia purred.

Vince wanted to say no. Politely.

Pola stole the chance from him. Her hand snapped out and closed around Lucia’s like a vice. Lucia winced and straightened up.

“Hey, hey, sottocapo, chill,” Lucia said, her black tail and ears bolt upright. “I’m allowed to flirt before you drag him off and shatter his pelvis, right?”

Pola’s face turned cherry red and her grip loosened. Lucia shot backward, grinning. While she shook feeling back into her hand, Pola continued to press herself against Vince.

“I don’t think I agreed to any pelvis shattering,” Vince said.

“Oh, so about my invitation—” Lucia started to say.

“No.”

Her ears lowered and she whined. Pola’s ear shot up as she preened against him. Fia clipped her boss over the back of her head, eliciting a snarl that nearly caused Vince to jump away.

“If you want to drag Vince off anywhere—whether it’s a VIP room or your bedroom—maybe you should try asking, like I told you,” Fia said. “Before he gets plastered by all the whisky we’ll pour down his throat. I like him, so—”

A series of wolf whistles deafened Vince, and Fia rolled her eyes at the antics of the other enforcers. Pola ignored them. Instead, she stared at her old friend with narrowed eyes.

“So?” Pola asked in a low voice.

“So if I think you’re trying to drag Vince off when he can barely walk, and I haven’t heard a peep from either of you, he’s going home,” Fia said.

The two wolves stared at each other. Vince struggled to pick out the emotions running between them. The tension was thick, sure, but he couldn’t tell if Pola was angry.

“I can handle myself and my liquor,” he said.

“I’m not asking your pride, V.” Fia’s eyes flickered toward him momentarily. “I’m doing this as a friend. I can guarantee Nicki or Ronin would as well, even with the little time I spent around your cop friend.”

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. Sure, she was right, but she could have framed things better. Made it sound less like he was going to act like a moron and get dragged off by Pola for that exact reason.

Which might have happened if he thought Pola was that type of girl. The real issue was that Pola might genuinely not understand the issue. He worried about her at times.

For that matter, with the eyes of a few dozen thirsty wolfgirls on him, he genuinely understood all the warnings about avoiding the Lionettis. Even here under his own power and with their respect for him, he knew that buying into their flirting would end poorly. All the masculine bullshit he could summon in his mind wouldn’t survive a night of being ridden into oblivion by this army of magically empowered demihumans.

Eventually, Pola nodded. She instantly slid around Vince so that she pressed her body against his, her plump breasts crushing against his chest and giving him an amazing view when he looked down at her beautiful face. Glittering green eyes framed by messy silver hair stared up at him as she bit her lip, barely constrained lust emanating from every one of Pola’s pores.

She traced a finger along the side of one of his thighs. “So, V…”

Seems she’d decided to use the same nickname Fia used. The few remaining functioning braincells in Vince’s mind wondered if Pola was calling him “V” because Fia did.

“Do you want to go back to my place after some celebratory drinks and… celebrate with a nice, firm ride?” Her eyes curved a little while her face reddened again.

Fia snorted and walked off to the bar. Liz shot over to serve her while some enforcers made space for Fia.

Meanwhile, Pola leaned just slightly away from Vince. Only enough for her finger to barely slide between their bodies. She teased the edge of his crotch, where the bulge of his erection firmly formed inside his pants. Tracing it with her finger while staring up at him, she tilted her head cutely.

The still-functioning part of Vince’s mind told him to say no.

Partly because he hadn’t asked Nina. But also because he enjoyed this little chase. Making Pola come to him and play to his attention was something he hadn’t enjoyed for years.

Because holy hell, every part of him wanted to fuck Pola. Fia had called him “Vindick” earlier in the night and he might deserve the nickname.

“I think that’s a yes,” one of the capos called out, before he said anything.

“I want actual vocalizations,” Fia said.

Groans resulted. That broke the spell on Vince.

He took a step back but was careful not to shake his head. Pola followed him, careful to keep the pressure up and, most importantly, her body heat leaking into his. The feeling of her soft belly pressing into his erection was unmistakable.

“Well?” Pola asked.

The uncertainty in her eyes pulled at him. He knew that his answer this time needed to be serious, or he needed a good reason to string her along.

So Vince did his best to stop thinking with his engorged dick. Given Pola’s relative innocence—to say nothing of the fact she was the sister of his current employer and an extremely wealthy and powerful woman—he wouldn’t easily be walking away from a night of passion here. Alessia and Fia had made it clear that Vince was the first man Pola had shown interest in, possibly ever.

In the end, that proved the stickler.

Pola might easily be the most attractive woman who had shown interest in him. Sure, Salome was a succubus, but she cheated to look that hot and fuckable. Pola was all natural.

Somehow, Vince knew his thoughts would get his ass whooped by Nina if she knew of them. He loved his huge lioness girlfriend and would opt to get bench pressed by her any day, but Pola was a mafia heiress with the looks to match.

The problem was that Vince barely knew Pola. If Fia took her place and asked the same question, he’d say yes without hesitation. She’d given him more than enough to go on, was friends with Nina, and lacked the baggage Pola possessed.

Vince asked himself something simple. Couldn’t he learn more about Pola later?

“Yes,” he said, aware that he’d spent a fair bit of time thinking about his answer.

Before she could kiss him or otherwise react, he placed a hand on Pola’s shoulder.

“To be clear, I’m saying we’re going to your place to fuck,” he said. “We can work out what comes after later. Once we know each other a little better than a couple of heated run-ins and attempts to smash my face in.”

Pola’s face screwed up and she opened and closed her mouth a few times. Then she thrust her fists toward the ground and straightened up like a hissing cat, tail sticking out behind her.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she growled.

“It means he wants to fuck, but you’re not dating,” Lucia said, patting her boss—or one of them—on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. Just poke a hole in the condom and you’re set.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Pola shoved the enforcer off. “Like I’m…” Her words descended into incoherent mumbling.

Vince chose to say nothing about the suggestion from Lucia to mess with the condom. Maybe he really should have gone on contraceptives. Sure, Nina had followed through and switched her heat meds to a combined heat and contraceptive one, but if he planned to sow his seeds wider—or make any foolish moves with some cute Lionetti wolves—he might want to plan against shotgun weddings.

Especially ones where Alessia had the shotgun preloaded.

“If you two are done deciding on the location of your honeymoon, Liz really wants to talk to you, Pola,” Fia called out from the bar.

Finally detached from Vince, Pola walked over to Fia. He joined her. A bottle of champagne sat in Liz’s hands, and she looked visibly nervous. The same could be said of the enforcers nearby, who glanced between Pola and Liz.

The moment Pola recognized the bottle, she stopped dead.

“Wait, that’s…” Pola’s eyes widened.

Vince knew little about champagne, but he could read. The shield-shaped label said “Dom Perignon” in fancy lettering. The year read 2000, making the wine nearly as old as he was.

“Lady Lionetti provided a case of Dom Perignon, just for tonight,” Liz said, hands tightly clasping the bottle, as if it might leap from her hands. “She said it would be enough for a round or two of drinks to celebrate our victory tonight and to…” She gulped. “Mourn those who can’t.”

The cheery atmosphere deadened for several moments, leaving just the thump of the bassy music to reverberate in the air in place of the constant chatter that had once filled the bar. Dozens of wolf ears lowered at the reminder that many of their friends had died tonight.

Then most of them raised glasses of beers, spirits, wine, and cocktails and kept drinking. If Vince had a glass of his own, he’d have joined in. He knew how it worked. More than a few enforcers he’d known had met their end in similar ways. Death remained only a single bad job away. Or even a good job that went awry.

This one had nearly been his end.

Pola bit her lip. “Dom, huh.” She looked at Vince.

He shrugged. He’d mentioned celebrating with Dom, but it had just been to get across his emotions.

“You said you might want to celebrate with a good whisky instead,” he said, leaning against the bar beside Fia.

Fia raised an eyebrow. “Really? Are you going to ruin it with ice as well?”

After sticking her tongue out, Pola returned to being indecisive. The chatter around the bar died down, as the caposrealized their ever predictable sottocapo was acting out of character. The enforcers quietened down in turn.

“You hate champagne,” Fia said.

“I do.” Pola wavered.

She looked around at the bar, her sole ear flicking up and down. Whatever was running through her mind remained a mystery to everyone, but Vince saw something warring in her eyes.

“Huh? What’s the fuss about?” Vanna asked from her booth in the corner. “We’ve always celebrated our big wins with the good Dom. It’s a tradition passed down by the enforcers and capos before us, and the bosses before Alessia. If she’s given a case of the good stuff, we should crack it open. What are you waiting for, sottocapo?”

Pola’s face hardened. Fia opened her mouth to snarl at her nemesis, but a random capo beat her to it. Vince recognized her as the security head from earlier in the night.

“Vanna, shut the fuck up and let Pola run the show how she fucking wants,” the capo said.

The gratification on Fia’s face could be framed and used as the dictionary definition of the word.

Yet Pola seemed just as lost.

Vince felt he might finally understand the problem, however. Vanna’s words allowed him to understand a lot of the volatile wolfgirl’s behavior.

“Pola, what do you want to drink to celebrate?” he asked, trying to catch her gaze.

She pivoted to face him instantly, locking onto his eyes and tail shooting upright. “What do I want to drink?”

“You mentioned whisky back in the warehouse. But what do you actually enjoy drinking? Don’t say whisky, or Fia will bite your head off.”

“Literally,” Fia added.

Pola bared her teeth at her friend, before rubbing the back of her head. “Um, I don’t know.”

Laughter echoed off the walls, almost as if the capos couldn’t believe their own boss didn’t know what alcohol she loved. Given how much the girls drank, Vince understood the response.

“Fuck off,” Pola mumbled. “I drink a lot, but it’s just…”

Liz passed the champagne bottle off to another bartender, only to flip a bottle of whisky into one hand. “You usually like old fashioneds when you’re here late, waiting for Lady Lionetti.”

Not too surprising. The cocktail was on almost every bar’s menu, no matter how fancy they might be, simply because it was hard to dislike. Unless you hated whisky entirely.

Given the audience, Vince doubted anyone here would say no to one.

“Maybe…” Pola muttered. “But we’ve always celebrated with Dom.”

“You’re the sottocapo,” Vince said, aware that he was absolutely the center of attention right now. “Don’t you choose what to celebrate with? Do you think your predecessor started pouring Dom Perignon for everyone because he hated it? I bet it’s because he wanted to share the good stuff on the good nights. Crack open the good whisky, let Liz and the others pour it out in old fashioneds or straight, and have a toast. Stop trying to be someone or something you’re not.”

Pola visibly flinched at his final sentence. Even Fia shot him a sharp look.

He’d cut too close to home there. How many had realized the real reason Pola acted the way she did?

Pola cracked open the Dom Perignon because that’s what the enforcers that worked for her father always had. Just as Alessia preserved an entire floor that now went disused out of memory of her father, Pola bore the scars of being forced into her position.

How much else of her behavior resulted from trying to live up to becoming sottocapo at 17, fresh from the bloodbath that Houou had bathed her and her family in?

“Pola?” Fia asked.

Her friend’s voice snapped her back to reality, and Pola looked at Vince, then Liz. She nodded at the bartender.

“Open the good bottles of whisky,” Pola said. Then paused. “Um, but not too good. Good enough to match the Dom, but—”

“I understand, sottocapo,” Liz said, a hint of dryness in her otherwise professional tone. “Everyone, old fashioneds and straight scotch on the sottocapo. This side of the bar for the cocktails, other side for whisky.”

The capos slammed back their drinks like demons, and the enforcers followed suit. Evidently it wasn’t normal for the enforcers to be here, as they were clearly playing copycat. The wolves descended on the bar like animals. Before they mobbed Vince, Fia yanked him away.

Pola was swept up by her subordinates. The capos dragged her toward the cocktail side of the bar, likely before she might get any ideas about proving her “strength” and trying to drink the scotch neat.

A wolfgirl lingered by the door, a black t-shirt in her hands. After grabbing it from her, Fia led Vince out of the bar and into Alessia’s office.

“Let’s leave them to it and get you changed into something presentable,” Fia said on the way out.

- - - - -

Commentary: Flirting and drinks. More of Pola's vulnerability comes out, even if she's still aggressive.

Pola seems to be a polarizing character (although almost all the main cast have elements that will turn people off). I know she's the favorite of some, but strongly disliked by others. Her behavior consists of a number of turnoffs, even if she is aggressive and increasingly friendly. On the flipside, there's plenty to unravel with her and Alessia.