"If that's what you want." And with that, our conversation ends.
No, it's not what I want. But it's what I'm going to get, regardless. It's better if I can at least have some modicum of control over it.
I'd known deep down that someone as striking as Enzo would be involved with countless women, womanizing being a core attribute of the men of our world.
But staring directly into the face of one of his lovers, a face almost as striking as his, I'd realized that I was just fooling myself into thinking he might be different. I'd thought that because he hadn't touched me when he'd had plenty of opportunities, it meant he was an honorable man not led around by his dick.
I was wrong.
It wasn't that he was honorable.
It was just that I was too unappealing to him.
17
ENZO
The entrance is justas I remember—dark and shrouded in clouds of cigarette smoke. I give a nod to the outside guard, and then I head inside, passing the loud noises coming from the rooms on the first floor. There are women in all states of déshabillé, and male grunts and groans permeate the air. The door to the right is open, showcasing an all-out orgy with countless participants. I keep my head down, and the regular girls know not to engage me in conversation.
I reach the top floor, and I knock softly. A ragged voice yells at me to enter, so I step inside. She's lounging on a red chaise oriented toward the windows, allowing the sunlight to bathe her features.
She doesn't even turn to look at me, keeping only her profile—her good side—angled toward me.
"MamanMargot," I say, and a small smile spreads on my lips. She lifts her head slowly, returning the smile.
"My boy." She holds her arms open, and I don't hesitate to hug her.
"You've lost weight,maman," I add, taking in her gauntcheeks and sallow skin. Just at that moment, she starts coughing, holding a hand up for me to let her catch her breath.
"Hand me that glass, will you?" she points toward the table, and I quickly get it for her.
"Maman, is this vodka? I thought you quit." I bring the glass to my nose and take a sniff. Yes, vodka.
"Shh. Not yet." She waves her hand dismissively, taking the glass from my hand and downing the contents.
MamanMargot hasn't had an easy life, and the many things she's been through have left their mark on her body—particularly her face.
She stifles a cough as she finally turns to me, her scarred cheek hidden by the play of shadows.
"I didn't expect you back so soon." I settle opposite her, finally letting my guard down in what feels like an eternity.
"There were some unexpected developments," I add, sighing deeply.
"Want to tell me about it?" She smiles, the lines on her face deepening.
Maman Margot is in her fifties, but her white hair and frail appearance don't attest to that. She'd been eighteen when she'd left her home of Lyon to come to the States, wanting to try her luck in Hollywood and banking on the assurances of one obscure agent.
She'd gotten a few small gigs in the beginning, but her resources had quickly run out, and so she'd resorted to the only thing that could keep her afloat—high-end prostitution. She'd started with movie directors and producers, and her luck had seemed to turn around.
Until she'd met my father.
She'd still been starry-eyed, despite living among stars, and her infatuation had quickly developed into an obsession, so she'd left LA to follow my father to New York. Rocco, too, had been rather enamored of the young beauty, and he'd set her upwith an apartment on 5th Avenue that he started frequenting more often than not.
Soon, though, my mother got wind of it. She wouldn't have minded it, as she hadn't minded the string of women who'd come beforemamanMargot. But she'd minded one thing—Margot's dazzling beauty.
The affair had been cut short when, one afternoon, Maman Margot had been out walking her dogs, and a mysterious assailant had jumped her, taking advantage of her inattention to permanently scar the right side of her face by throwing acid on it.
The police hadn't managed to catch the perpetrator, and as her looks faded and her sanity dimmed, my father, too, dropped her and installed her in one of the many clubs he owned, where she started earning her bread on her back again. But this time, the johns were some of the worst dregs of humanity.
