#sonny corleone x reader smut

[melis-writes]

Mafia Wife [Sonny Corleone x Reader Multichapter, 18+ Smut] Chapter 2 – By Chance and By Fate

Read on AO3 / Read Chapter 1 / Chapter Masterlist.

18+, explicit smut read.

“Please, I insist.” / “Our families are close, you know. We respect one another. I hope ya know you’re always welcome here.”

By chance and by fate, you find yourself intertwined by the soon-to-be successors and sons of powerful men, mafioso again and again. From your experience with the Barzini family, you knew what to expect meeting the Corleones, let alone Santino Corleone, the "enforcer", or so you thought. How can you feel at home in someone else's house you've visited for the first time? How can time be meaningless for Sonny who only wants to get lost in his words? You promised yourself you wouldn't tangle with mafiosi, you know what the means for you, but one wants nothing more than to be close to you. The ease and comfort inside of you from this man draws out your fate and future with him...

[WARNINGS]: Mentions of family abuse / Mentions of death

[AUTHOR'S NOTE]: An update we very much needed to continue this fic because I can promise from the bottom of my heart that even after a year of no updates, Mafia Wife is not forgotten nor abandoned!! 😭❤️ 2024 had not been kind to me with my writing, but I'm back at it again having beaten writer's block. 🤭 Gabriella and Sonny's story CONTINUES! Despite it only having one chapter up from 2023, I'm in awe every single day at the love and support this fic gets! It means so much to me, so thank you all so very much!! 🥺❤️🥺❤️ This is a bit of a slow burn fic, at least in these initial chapters, so I'm trying to build up friendliness and potential romance with Sonny and Gabriella before we really jump in to their lives together and how they came to be. Sit down and get ready for the ride, it only picks up after this chapter! 👀

“The underboss’s wife”; that’s who you are, and the whispers of enemies, family and colleagues alike know it too. You’re no stranger to the underworld of crime surrounding you including the one run by the Corleone family’s underboss; Santino Corleone. The streets run red with blood and brutality under Santino’s influence but it’s Santino who feels hit by the thunderbolt at the very sight of you—pushing away his womanizing and notorious unfaithfulness. You unexpectedly find yourself in a position of power balancing your marriage with the fate of the Corleone’s family’s future whether it be through Santino’s infamous brutality or the love he finds amidst the man he claims to be.

March 1937, Long Island, New York, Giordano Estate Greenhouse.

Humming a soft tune to yourself as you make your way through your family greenhouse, you almost blend in with the various, planted flowers growing around you in your lilac color, flowing shirtwaist dress, and hair put up in a messy bun.

Just outside in the back of your family’s estate, you spend the remainder of your afternoon alone in the family greenhouse with hundreds of plants, herbs, and flowers that are carefully curated, gardened, and cared for by you and your family. It's always been an ideal place for solitude among colorful, fragrant nature and a muse for your painting sessions.

You approach the greater floral section of the greenhouse where blossoming flowers are planted in pots and little plots of soil in gardening boxes from vibrant tulips to lilies, lilacs, orchids, peonies, tulips, and roses grow.

You pause for a moment, stopping your tracks as you glance back over your shoulder to your easel set up a few feet behind you, centered in the middle of the greenhouse to encapsulate a stunning view of all the plants around you and capture as much sunshine peeking through the glass ceiling of the greenhouse.

‘Roses. Roses will do.’ You note to yourself, gazing at the variety of white, red, and pink planted roses; some half-bloomed, some yet to grow and others wilted from a lack of proper sunlight in the winter.

“Spring can’t kick in fast enough,” you sigh to yourself, frowning at the potted red roses you planted yourself, almost completely wilted now.

You run your hands through the petals of a growing set of planted red roses before you take the pot of wilted ones, moving it over to the small round table by your easel.

Just before you’re about to set down the pot of roses, your eyes flicker over to the glass door of the greenhouse, noticing three tall, male figures walking outside in the estate’s gardens.

One of the figures you easily recognize; is your father, wearing a navy three-piece suit walking with whom you assume are two other guests, no doubt prestigious and wealthy judging by their black, three-piece, Italian silk suits.

From slight fog and droplets of rain clouding the glass walls and door of the greenhouse, the guests your father walks with appear mostly distorted to you as you’re unable to make out any faces.

Paying no attention to them, you set the roses down before taking a seat on your stool in front of your easel.

You clear your throat, inching your seat closer, and begin to prepare your paints on a little tray in front of you before you focus on tracing an outline of the roses onto your canvas to begin painting.

Don Emilio Barzini and his son, Emilio Barzini Jr. Are your father’s esteemed guests for today, visiting the Giordano family estate to discuss investments and private banking in detail.

The Barzini family was one of the first crime families in New York to invest in the Giordano family banks when your father first entered the business, and his relationship with the Barzinis blossomed from long-time allies and respected customer into a grandfathered friendship with due respect.

Your father, Francesco Giordano, recognizes well enough the power and influence a man such as Don Barzini has. Francesco knows Barzini is a man to be respected, a man who is known to be cunning and crude on whims, and a man who if relations sour through wrong actions, can also become a dangerous enemy.

It’s always been in your family’s best interests to keep on good terms with all of your clients, but particularly the most wealthy and powerful mafiosi without being involved in any mafia business yourselves for the sake of your family.

Today marks the first time Don Barzini is touring the back of your family estate, taking in the splendor of the carefully curated gardens, gazebo, and private pool that finished its recent construction this year, and an even rarer occasion marked by Emilio Jr. Accompanying his father as well.

Emilio Jr. Is now fully engrossed in the Barzini family business himself, directly learning from his father and beginning to forge the same business relationships for succession shortly.

You've met both Don Barzini and his son years prior, but you’ve never spent enough time with either of them neither personally nor formally to get to know them. Considering their mafiosi, you believe that as a nurse and not a mafiosa, there’s nothing you can offer to either of these men unless they come to you visibly sick or injured.

You’re nothing if not kind and welcoming to all guests—including your family’s business partners—but you’ve never paid mafiosi special attention. You’ve never had to, thus far.

Your father remains close to the door of the greenhouse, speaking to Don Barzini. “There is nothing more important,” he says, patting Barzini’s hands in his, “than our continued partnership and friendship.”

“Indeed,” Barzini smiles back, amused. “I trust none other with the investments and wealth of my family. You know this.”

Emilio’s eyes linger over your back through the greenhouse walls, only half paying attention to his and your father’s conversation in front of him.

You haven’t had a chance to approach the Barzinis to welcome them today as you were never told they were coming, but you have no intention of stopping your painting mid-way from rushing out and greeting mafiosi.

Although you remain a distorted figure of sorts behind the greenhouse glass walls to Emilio Jr. it mildly disgruntles him to be unable to make out your full figure, he knows it's you.

It’s much to Emilio Jr.’s surprise that he catches your father then offering, “Have I not given you a grand tour of our greenhouse yet, Don Barzini? Oh, please, allow me. It’s finally completed its construction alongside our gardens this year, just as my family envisioned it to be.”

“Gladly,” Don Barzini chuckles, “you’ve already impressed me above all others I’ve seen.”

The three men enter the greenhouse as you begin to slowly use a crimson shade of red paint to encapsulate the less wilted, vibrant colors of a rose petal on your canvas.

You hear the door to the greenhouse open and close, sighing quietly to yourself as you force yourself to focus on the canvas until you simply are unable to.

You know and respect that your father doesn’t have much of a choice when it comes to entertaining his mafiosi guests and touring around the estate, but it does make you uncomfortable when his guests choose to interrupt your personal and hobby time—particularly the chatty Don Barzini’s son, Emilio Jr...

You hear a brief conversation about the final renovations and construction of the greenhouse from your father and Don Barzini, as well as mentions about the sections the greenhouse has been separated into to organize flowers from herbs and fruits before their footsteps grow louder and you’re in plain sight of all three men.

“My daughter, Gabriella,” your father beams proudly at the sight of you. “The greenhouse is often her muse when it comes to her paintings.”

“The beautiful Gabriella Giordano,” Don Barzini remarks, glancing at you, then your painting.

Emilio Jr. quietly stands in awe, gazing at your beauty as you turn around and look at Don Barzini with respect.

“Don Barzini,” you’re quick to set your paints down and carefully rise from your seat to greet him. “Welcome. Forgive me, I didn’t know you’d be visiting us today.”

Don Barzini chuckles, taking no offense. “Ah Gabriella, how are you, sweetheart?” He gives you a light kiss on both cheeks. “No disrespect done, it’s good to see you again.”

“Thank you, Don Barzini.” you smile politely. “Likewise. I’ve been well.” 

Emilio Jr.’s eyes wander over your dress and body inconspicuously, admiring your curves and how the fabric of your clothes hugs your figure.

It’s no surprise to him nor his father how powerfully attracted Emilio Jr. Is to you as you remain the epitome of his type in women; a beautiful, young woman from a prestigious family that built itself from nothing getting closer to the top, mingling with families like his—not to mention a woman who built her own pathway with a career at that.

“Gabriella,” Emilio Jr. Speaks out, your name sounding like a rich wine over his tongue,

“Hello,” you turn to face Don Barzini’s son; no shred of affection or attraction shared towards him whatsoever.

It’s not that you find Emilio Jr. Unattractive, as he’s very much a conventionally attractive, Sicilian young man with medium-length, clipped, dark hair just past his earlobe, parted to the left, slicked and gelled back neatly wearing a sultry cologne, bright charming smile with dark, dreamy eyes, but nothing in your heart speaks to him.

When it comes to Emilio Jr., it’s always been a “no” from you, and there’s nothing more to go off on that.

“Don Barzini and young Emilio are touring the grounds with us today, sweetheart,” your father says with a proud smile. “I just hope we haven’t interrupted your painting.”

“Nonsense,” you tell your father, very much speaking to him directly. “Please,” you smile back at Don Barzini and Emilio Jr., “make yourselves comfortable.”

With that, you turn back around and return to your easel, hearing Don Barzini and your father begin to make their way further into the greenhouse, spiking up another conversation.

You don’t notice that Emilio Jr. Decides to linger behind quietly, not following your father and his but rather remaining back to watch you from a distance as you pick up your paints and try to focus on where you left off.

Swirling your brush into the scarlet red paint again, you slowly begin to paint away at the easel.

Emilio Jr. watches your mastery in awe, wishing to be able to watch you paint all day just to watch your delicate, yet slow and precise movements—painting with such ease as if it’s second nature to you. Your talent mesmerizes Emilio Jr., as does the rest of you.

You’re aware the three men are rather close to you in proximity in the greenhouse, but you pay no attention to them or any other potential distractions as you remain engrossed in your art.

It’s when Emilio Jr. Begins to directly approach you that you become startled, hearing him say in a low, whispering voice, “Something tells me this is more than just a hobby to you.”

You gasp out quietly, dropping the small container of red paint you held free in your hand to the ground, spilling half like a bloody splatter over the floor. “Oh!”

“Oh God, I’m so sorry,” Emilio Jr. blinks, taken back as he quickly attempts to kneel to scoop up the container of paint.

You’re faster, leaning over to grab the container first but manage to spill more red paint over your hands as you get it away from Emilio Jr’s. Grasp.

You let out a small sigh of relief, noticing quite a bit of paint still left in the container and that at the very least it didn’t splatter on you, your easel, or let alone Emilio Jr.’s thousand-dollar, silk suit.

You both gaze at each other, out of breath, hearts racing.

Emilio Jr. Chuckles sheepishly, shaking his head. “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s alright,” you glance down at the red mess staining all over your hands as you set the paint container down. “It cleans off easily.”

“And your hands?” Emilio Jr. Frowns, becoming genuinely concerned.

“That too,” you frown, looking at the palm of your hands as if you committed a murder; bloody red reaching your wrists.

“I commend you for using high-quality paint...” Emilio notices the brand name on some of the small paint tubes around you. “But my apology isn’t enough. I’ll have replacements sent to you later this afternoon.”

Your eyes widen at the thought of receiving any sort of gift from the Barzini family. “No, no, please, I couldn’t--”

“I insist,” Emilio Jr. Smiles back at you, taking your hands into his suddenly.

Stunned, you glance down at your hands to see the red paint smearing onto Emilio Jr’s willingly; your cheeks stinging red from surprise.

“Let me make it up to you,” Emilio Jr. Coaxes.

“If you insist,” you avoid eye contact with him.

“You’re a master of your craft, it’s the least I can do.” To his regret, Emilio Jr. Slowly lets go of your hands. “I want to buy this painting from you.”

“This?” Stunned, you glance back at your easel, utterly confused by what Emilio Jr. Is trying to get at.

Your painting of a set of wilted roses is nothing if not simple, but rather mediocre in your eyes. Your only idea was to practice painting flowers and nothing more; why would the son of a wealthy Don want this of all things from you?

“Of course,” Emilio Jr. Chuckles, “this is already making itself out to be a beautiful portrait. Does that surprise you?”

You give him a small smile. “I’m my biggest critic. It doesn’t make sense to me. It’s...” You frown at the rose portrait, barely close to completion. “It’s just a little practice on painting florals. Nothing I wanted to keep.”

“It makes sense to me. Practice or not, it’s your artwork and it’s beautiful.”

“You can have it,” you won’t object, a little flattered that Emilio Jr. Appreciates your artwork despite having only seen it once. “I won’t deny a lover of art his painting.”

“You understand me,” Emilio grins. “And that goes for any of your paintings, you know? I would love to see more of them sometime. Perhaps you’d give me a private showing?”

“I don’t know if--”

“Please, I insist.”

Current day, March 1939, Corleone Estate.

“Believe me, I insist,” Sonny says to you; the same words, similar persuasion, charming smile over his lips wanting to give you a tour of his family estate having just met you, but it’s different.

‘Why is it different?’ A moment of realization flickers through you.

Why is it different for you now, having another son of yet another powerful Don, again the eldest, again the future successor, the enforcer whom you just met, make you feel so comfortable and so safe already when you’ve just met him?

How do you already feel so at ease as opposed to how you felt in your own home’s greenhouse next to Emilio Jr. When you have known him for much longer?

You can’t explain it to yourself nor can you think of it in the moment; it’s not Emilio Jr. Whose on your mind for the time being.

There’s no uneasiness surrounding you and Sonny; something just feels right inside of you, and Sonnys easygoing, playful personality towards you only provides further relief.

“I won’t get lost?” You teasingly ask, beginning to follow Sonny through the foyer of the estate.

Sonny chuckles, glancing at you as he leads you through. “Well, what do you want to do?”

Both of you crack a smile at one another.

“I gotta make this as boring for you as possible, ya know. But I do wanna give you a warm welcome,” Sonny extends out both of his arms, gesturing to each side of his Tudor-style estate interior that is the home of the Corleone family. “Five bedrooms, seven bathrooms. Impressed?”

“Were you a real estate agent in your past life?” You giggle, causing Sonny to burst out in laughter with you.

“Maybe,” Sonny grins, “jack of all trades, you could say.”

“Great,” laughing, you continue, “I heard there’s a grand library, maybe?”

“You heard right, come on. I’ll show you the study.” Gesturing for you to follow close, Sonny begins to lead you up the mahogany, spiral staircase. “Something tells me that’s your favorite room in a house already.”

“I won’t deny that,” blushing a little, you follow Sonny down the hallway and to double French doors leading into a spacious, quiet, and dimly lit study where you can barely make out a square inch of the wall from the bookshelves holding hundreds of books.

Two study desks are placed at a distance from one another in the room with a plush, fur carpet in the middle, two leather armchairs and a beige, tweed couch on the other end of the room.

“I don’t spend as much time in here as I should,” Sonny admits sheepishly. “Almost a little too quiet in here, y’know?”

“Not to your liking?” You ask, peeking around the study curiously.

“I like having someone around.”

“That does sound nice,” the blush deepens on your cheeks.

“You a bookworm of any sort?” Sonny walks towards the bookshelves, albeit not very interested in the surroundings of the study or anything it has to offer him.

“I’m a painter,” you smile shyly.

Sonny blinks in surprise, turning back to face you. “You’re an artist, hey?”

“Something like that,” you meet his gaze.

“So...” Sonny chuckles, gesturing around the study aimlessly. “We gotta get you a private room where you have all the space and painting tools you need, right? No use for all these books.”

“Maybe not,” you’re intrigued even by such a forward suggestion from Sonny as you move to politely sit down on the couch across from him. “Funny enough, the greenhouse has always been my place of choice to point.”

“I know where to take you on a tour next then, don’t I?” Sonny smirks. “Interesting stuff. Never met an artist before. What do you paint?”

“A little bit of everything.” You’re flattered to pick up on Sonny’s genuine interest in your hobby, easily being able to tell by his tone of voice and body language that he isn’t just forcing small talk to get to another point. “I like still life portraits the best, but I also adore Renaissance artwork so I do similar style portraits. Anything. I love all kinds of painting and artwork, it’s calming.”

“Right,” Sonny nods slowly. “A lot of chaos around? It must be nice to unwind in a hobby like that.”

“There’s always something happening,” you frown, only able to think of the recent mob wars between the families of New York and their lasting, heated impacts and tensions just to mention a few. “If you know what I mean.”

“Believe me, I understand,” Sonny mumbles, slumping down in one of the leather armchairs closest to you.

“It can be a lot to handle, but it’s not exactly an escape for me.” You continue, “Making art is something I’ve always loved to do.”

“Glad to hear it,” Sonny tilts his head to the side, raking a hand through his brunette curls. “And you’re more well-informed than I thought.”

You pause for a moment, locking eyes with Sonny.

This is Don Vito Corleone’s eldest son, his successor, and very much an active mafioso. If anyone knows anything, it’s him.

‘Is he prodding me for information?’

“You or me?” You counter.

Sonny’s eyes widen a little, his curiosity towards you fully peaking. “You know who I am?”

“I know more than you think.”

“But I don’t know much about you,” a sly grin begins to form on the corners of Sonny’slips. “How’s that fair, Miss Giordano?”

“What do you want to  know about me?” You flush a shade of scarlet, clasping your legs tighter together.

“To be honest? Everything. We can start there,” Sonny purses his lips, licking over them.

“I’ll be here for a very long time then,” you tease back.

“I have time,” he states.

“Don Corleone’s son is never too preoccupied?” A little thrill rushes through you at the back and forth you find yourself engaged in with Sonny.

“I can make time,” he winks. “I want to see you again if you’re willing. It’s refreshing to talk to a girl like you, and we just met.”

“Right...” You blush deeply, nibbling on your bottom lip. “Likewise. We can do that.”

“I’ll talk to your father. He’s no stranger to me, but you and I haven’t had a proper chance to meet until now.” Sonny begins to slowly rise from his seat. “Our families are close, you know. We respect one another. I hope ya know you’re always welcome here.”

‘And why don’t I feel uneasy around this mafioso now?’

“I’m flattered,” you also begin to get up from the couch.

“You should be,” Sonny maintains a respectful distance from you—something Emilio Jr. sorely lacked. “How about I take you down to our greenhouse? See if it’s worthy of hosting a painter?”

“I like the sound of that,” nodding eagerly, you begin to follow Sonny out of the study and back down the hallway.

“I’ll give you a tour to the Corleone Mall too sometime if my Pops and yours don’t beat us to it. We just finished building up the place in Long Beach. I know your Pops have been there a few times while it was still under construction,” Sonny leads you back down the spiral staircase. “A little out of the way—like an hour—but worth the trip now. A lot of residential, good security, gated community, now for the family.” He suddenly switches up the topic, “You had the misfortune of meeting any of my brothers yet?”

“Misfortune?” You hold back a laugh as you’re both back down in the foyer.

“Let’s put it that way,” Sonny chuckles.

“I’ve met Tom recently,” you nod. “Tom Hagen.”

“Yeah, Tom and I go a long way back. The first friend I ever had. Played out there in the streets of Hell's Kitchen growing up. He’s German Irish. His family was uhhh...” Sonny shrugs his shoulders loosely, beginning to lead you out through the back door. “Not doing so well, let’s say. I’m sure Tom will tell you all about it sometime.”

“Oh,” you frown, stepping outside as Sonny holds open the door for you.

“I saw his folks sometimes when we played outside. His dad was a carpenter or something, I think, but man...” Sonny shakes his head, “he drank and he drank. I like my whiskey and anisette, but the violence in that man when he had liquor in his mouth was something else. He beat his own kid black and blue, just like that.”

Sonny stuffs both hands into the pockets of his dress trousers, leading you out to the greenhouse. “He was eleven at the time, I think. Yeah, eleven. And I saw his ma, she had a real nasty eye infection. She went blind from it, and it wasn’t long till we didn’t see her around anymore but she gave Tom the same infection too. I was worried for him. I knew he didn’t have the money or means to treat it.”

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” you mumble, clasping your hands together.

“Everything started to go to shit after that,” Sonny continues the story, “his dad wasn’t the same. He wasn’t the violent type anymore to others like his own son but he started to take it out on himself. Drank himself to death after the funeral. Tom told me one day when we were playin’ that some funny-looking business people were wanting to take him and his sister away. I didn’t even know he had a sister.”

“Social services?” You raise a brow.

“Yeah,” Sonny nods, stopping by the greenhouse door with you. “So they got sent to some orphanage, and I didn’t see Tom for a few weeks. I thought that was it, y’know. Then some week later, I saw him back on the streets. He told me ran off from the orphanage.”

“But he left his sister back there?”

“Nah, it’s nothing like that,” Sonny shakes his head. “Some couple adopted her, but not him. Assholes,” he scowls, “they knew she had a little brother and chose to separate them anyway. Tom didn’t trust anyone after that—I mean, how could he, right? He didn’t even trust me,” Sonny takes a hand out of his pocket, pointing at his chest. “Just the streets. Took me over a year to persuade him to come stay with us. I talked to Pop and told him everything that happened down to the kid’s eye infection. Pop didn’t wanna disrespect Tom’s background and family you see, but he adopted him. Saw him as a real son. And Tom’s a real brother to me, so there’s that.”

“Wow,” a small smile begins to form over your lips. “You wanted to take him as your brother?”

“Of course. He was always a brother to me, we just didn’t live together at that time.”

“That’s so sweet,” you beam as Sonny opens the greenhouse door, letting you both in so distracted and engrossed in each other’s conversation that both of you already forgot this is supposed to be a greenhouse tour.

“What came of the eye infection?” The curious nurse in you asks as both of you stand before each other, talking.

“My father hired a private doctor to operate on it. Tom healed up well after that,” Sonny explains.

“I’m glad. Most eye infections are treatable, even the ones that led to blindness like his poor mother, as contagious as they are. I wonder if it was keratitis or trachoma.”

Sonny stares at you in awe, like a child seeing Christmas tree lights for the first time—bewildered and intrigued.

“What?”

“How would you know all that? You a doctor?” The grin on his mouth becomes contagious.

“I’m a nurse,” you giggle.

“You’re a nurse,” Sonny repeats. “Wow. Just what else are you, Miss Gabriella? So you don’t give me any more big surprises like this.”

“We just met, you have to go easy on yourself,” you laugh softly.

“Do I?” Sonny chuckles. “Y’know I’m used to seeing private doctors shuffle in and outta here, take care of Pops or one of us without saying much—just shoving medical stuff in your face but this is different. A good different.”

‘She’s incredible,’ Sonny thinks to himself, fascinated by you.

“You’re too sweet,” you say back as both of you remain quiet for a moment, smiling at one another.

“Ah,” Sonny blinks, awkwardly looking around the greenhouse. He knows he’s brought you here for a reason, but easily gets distracted by your eyes and smile. “Oh, sorry, the tour--”

“It’s beautiful here, thank you for showing me.”

“Not much of a grand tour, but it’s something. You garden too, or?”

“I like to give it a try here and there, but I’m not sure if I can call myself a green thumb,” you tell him.

“Well, I am not,” Sonny glances around the various plants around him. “I can count on one hand how many times I’ve been in here.”

“Really?’

“But if you plan on coming to visit more often, that can change,” Sonny sneaks in a flirty comment.

“I’ll take you up on that,” you nod happily.

Patrolling the vicinity of the Corleone estate at this hour for security are Clemenza and Tessio’s men, as well as the two men together, making their way around the back of the greenhouse.

Clemenza and Tessio’s movements are slower and linger nearby the greenhouse as they notice both of you inside, staying out of your sights.

Tessio chuckles, smoothening out his suit jacket. “There he goes again, Santino... One new lady at a time.”

Clemenza stares through the glass of the greenhouse walls more intently, trying to study your features. “This is not looking good.”

“Hmm? Why’s that?” Tessio’s attention perks up.

“Not just a new lady,” Clemenza murmurs, shaking his head. “You see who that is?”

Tessio turns his head to look through the glass, trying not to catch you or Sonny’s gaze as inconspicuously as possible.

“Oh,” Tessio blinks, “that’s...”

“Francesco Giordano’s daughter,” Clemenza sighs deeply. “Santino. What’s he getting himself into this time?”

“This is a scandal waiting to happen,” Tessio can hardly keep his laughter contained. “What do you think? They’re seeing each other?”

“I don’t know,” Clemenza grumbles, turning away. “But the Don told me to keep an eye on Sonny. Y’know, last week he could barely get his hands off of Ms. Mancini in front of everybody. Now he’s got a private banker’s daughter in the greenhouse?”

“Relax, old man.” Tessio pats Clemenza’s shoulder reassuringly. “We don’t even know what’s going on with those two just yet, and Don doesn’t trust his son?”

“Not like that,” Clemenza replies, pursing his lips. “But y’know how Sonny can be. He’s too hotheaded, too quick to act. Too promiscuous for his good if you ask me, but something like this won’t simply blow over if it gets out.”

“Ah,” Tessio nods. “The Don will want to hear about it.”

“I don’t know if he’ll be surprised anymore. I just wish Sonny would settle down already,” Clemenza crosses his arms. “Settle down for good, y’know? Get married, and have a family. It would be good for him.”

“Give him time,” Tessio tells Clemenza, “this could be a good thing. We can’t get too involved and even the Don knows he can’t rush his own son when it comes to the ladies he brings around. We just gotta keep a good eye on him here and there.”

“Gabriella Giordano is a very, very different story altogether,” Clemenza nods slowly. “Believe me when I say this, but... Telling the Don will be for Sonny’s good.”

[lostloveletters]

Reader-insert fics for The Godfather. You can also find these fics on my AO3.

I do not take fic requests.

Do not interact if you’re under 18, a terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

MICHAEL

Give Me Shelter, The Night Is Dark - Michael Corleone x Reader (Vampire AU, smut, female reader)

Something Borrowed - Michael Corleone x Reader (Friends to lovers, smut, female reader)

SONNY

One of Those Nights - Sonny Corleone x Reader (Smut, female reader)

[fangirl-imagines]

The Godfather Masterlist

Michael Corleone:

Being in a Relationship with Michael Corleone Would Include...

Going to the Chapel//Michael Corleone x Reader

Michael Corleone Having a S/O with Anxiety Would Include...

Michael Corleone Having a S/O with PTSD Would Include...

Only Bought This Dress So You Could Take it Off//Michael Corleone x Reader Smut

Michael Corleone’s S/O Having an Eating Disorder Would Include...

Going to Sicily with Michael Corleone Would Include...

Michael Corleone’s Wife Being Best Friends with Fredo Would Include...

Close Call//Michael Corleone x Reader

Having a Baby with Michael Corleone Would Include...

Celebrating Your College Graduation with Michael Corleone Would Include...

Christmas as Michael Corleone’s Wife Would Include...

Christmas Shopping with Michael Corleone Would Include...

Date Night with Michael Corleone Moodboard

Sonny Corleone: 

Ride Home//Sonny Corleone x Reader

Being in a Relationship with Sonny Corleone Would Include...

Vito Corleone: 

Celebrating Your College Graduation with Vito Corleone Would Include...

Christmas with Young!Vito Corleone and Your Family Would Include...

Fredo Corleone: 

Your First Christmas Party With Fredo Corleone Would Include...

Tom Hagen: None Yet

Godfather Preferences: 

What It Would Be Like To Kiss the Corleone Men (+Tom) 

What Kind of Girl Would the Godfather Men Go For

How the Godfather Men Would Take Care of Their Sick S/O 

[hoffmans-hoffman]

I'm a lazy bitch, and putting some fics on hold so 🐝

What I'll be doing is having my Asks open for x Readers (Mostly gender neutral and Male...I just feel like I don't write women goon)

List of characters I write for

Sonny Corleone

Tom Hagen

Michael Corleone

Mo Green

Enzo the Baker (He is my sweet baby boy)

+ whatever one you want, those are just the people I'm good at

What I write, I can do sweet fluff, I can do injuries, however I don't do requested smut

But let me know what I can do, just send an ask also some of the characters maybe more like the book than the movie but try a good mix of both

- Nov 🐝

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Masterlist

A list of my old writing that you can request I revise

Song Prompts

Meeting and Dating Headcanons~

Pretty in Pink

Andie Walsh

Duckie Dale

Blane McDonagh

Steff McKee

Sixteen Candles 

Jake Ryan

The Lost Boys

Paul

Dwayne

Poly Lost Boys

Edgar Frog

The Breakfast Club

Brian Johnson

John Bender

Andrew Clark

The Outsiders

Sodapop Curtis

Dallas Winston

Two-Bit Mathews

Rumblefish

Steve Hays

Ferris Buellers Day Off

Cameron Frye

Karate Kid

Daniel Larusso

Johnny Lawrence

Dutch

Heathers

Veronica Sawyer

Jason Dean

Fast Times at Ridgemont High

Jeff Spicoli

Brad Hamilton

Better Off Dead 

Lane Meyer

Weird Science

Gary Wallace

Wyatt Donnelly

Dream A Little Dream

Dinger Holfield

Bill and Teds Excellent Adventure

Bill S. Preston Esquire

Ted Logan 

Dating Poly Bill and Ted 

The Princess Bride

Inigo Montoya

Interview with the Vampire

Louis de Pointe du Lac

Children of the Corn

Malachai Boardman

National Lampoons 

Rusty Griswold (European Vacation)

Cant Buy Me Love

Kenneth Wurman

The Chocolate War

Jerry Renault

Archie Costello

The Mighty Ducks

Fulton Reed

Dean Portman

Adam Banks

Les Averman

Porkys

Brian Schwartz

Anthony ‘Meat’ Tuperello

Tommy Turner

Tim Cavanaugh

Mickey Jarvis

Just One of the Guys

Terry Griffith

Greg Tolan

Dead Poets Society 

Neil Perry

Todd Anderson

Charlie Dalton

Knox Overstreet

Steven Meeks

Earth Girls are Easy

Mac

Combat Academy 

Perry Barnett

Waynes World

Garth Algar

Austin Powers

Austin Powers

Toy Soldiers

Ricardo Montoya

Good Will Hunting

Chuckie Sullivan

10 Things I Hate About You

Joey Donner

My Bodyguard

Ricky Linderman

Melvin Moody

Stand and Deliver

Angel Guzman

Something Wild 

Ray Sinclair

Three O’Clock High 

Buddy Revell

Intruder

Randy

Young Guns

Jose Chavez y Chavez

Billy the Kid

Doc Scurlock

Dazed and Confused

Benny O’Donnell

Don Dawson

Kevin Pickford

Randall “Pink” Floyd

Fred O’Bannion

Mitch Kramer

Ron Slater

Shavonne Wright

Dogfight

Eddie Birdlace

Ladybugs

Matthew

Goosebumps

Sticks

Freddy Renfield

Twister

Robert ‘Rabbit’ Nurick

Stand by me 

Ace Merrill

School Ties

Rip Van Kelt 

Chris Reece

The Untouchables

Eliot Ness

The Godfather

Tom Hagen

(Young) Vito Corleone

(Old) Vito Corleone

Goodfellas

Henry Hill

Little Shop of Horrors

Seymour Krelborn

Newsies

Specs

Near Dark

Severen

Friday the 13th

Jason Voorhees

Scream

Billy Loomis 

Poly Billy and  Stu

Stu Macher

The Craft

Nancy Downs

Hocus Pocus

Max Dennison

Thackery Binx

Beetlejuice

Lydia Deetz

Adam Maitland

The Crow

Eric Draven

Ghostbusters

Ray Stantz

Aliens

Bishop

An American Werewolf in London

Jack Goodman

Sleepaway Camp

Ricky Thomas

Re-animator

Herbert West

Silence of the Lambs

Clarice Starling

Fright Night

Jerry Dandridge

Candyman

Daniel Robitaille

The Evil Dead

Ash Williams

Sabrina the Teenage Witch

Harvey Kinkle

Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Spike

Full Metal Jacket

Sgt. Hartman

Joker

Animal Mother

Pyle

Preference~ the boys with an s/o whose ex stalks them

Grease

Kenickie

Labyrinth

Jareth

Total Recall

Douglas Quaid

Requested “Would Includes” and Imagines/Fics~

Darry falling for Johnny’s sister

Allison Reynolds dating a shy nerdy girl

Starting a family with Cameron Frye

Making out with Cameron Frye

Cameron Frye comforting you when you’re upset

Getting drunk with the Ferris Bueller crew

Gary Wallace dating a tall girl

George Mcfly with a dominant flirty s/o

Comforting and being comforted by Will Hunting

Will Hunting having a crush on you

Being apart of the good will hunting gang

Armand with a virgin s/o (including nsfw)

Lestat and Louis dating a girl who loves horror movies

Making out with Duckie Dale

Duckie Dale cheering you up

Cliff having a crush on you

Making out with Cliff

Making out with Bryce

Bryce having a crush on you

The Lost Boys with an s/o having an anxiety attack + fighting depression

The Lost Boys with a sweet and innocent s/o

The Lost Boys with a curvy mate

The Lost Boys fighting with their mates

The Lost Boys dating a shy short girl

The Lost Boys taking care of you when you’re hurt

Getting drunk with the Lost Boys would include

David x Laddies older sister

Making out with Edgar Frog

Being Married to Archie Costello

Going to the beach with Archie Costello

Making out with Archie Costello

Darrys girlfriend landing a job at a local cafe as a singer

Making out with Kenneth Wurman

Being Cindys friend and Ronalds crush

Harold Sherbico having a crush

Kim Kelly dating her polar opposite

Neil Perry dating an artist

Making out with Charlie Dalton

Jealous Charlie Dalton

Jealous Knox Overstreet

A study date with Steven Meeks

Spending the winter season with Neil Perry

Comforting Charlie Dalton after he gets expelled 

The dead poets walking in on Charlie and his secret, shy girlfriend 

Simon Boggs having a crush on Laneys friend

Faking It-Cindy Mancini falling for the girl who paid her to be her friend

Spike having a crush on you

Steff McKee having a crush on you

Marko having a crush on you

David having a crush on you 

Paul having a crush on you

Dwayne having a crush on you

Dwayne x vampire reader who dresses like Stevie Nicks

Making out with Keith Nelson

Meat having a crush on Peewees sister

Admit it- Mickey Jarvis and his future s/o having crushes on each other

Being a part of team USA and meeting Adam and Charlie

Dwayne Robertson having a crush on you

Sleepover with Bill and Ted (including nsfw)

Being pregnant with Ted Logans child

Starring in the schools Romeo and Juliet with Ted Logan

Ted Logan asking you to be his valentine

Spending Valentines day with Steff McKee

Spending Valentines day with Steven Meeks

Spending Valentines day with Keith Nelson

Spending your first Valentines day with Bryce

Wishing I Was Her (Nick Andopolis)

If You Want Out Just Say It (Ace Merrill)

Going on the Ferris adventure

Going on your own adventure with Cameron Frye

Making out with Randall ‘Pink’ Floyd

Travelling back in time with Marty McFly

Tommy Devito dating a chubby artist

Years Gone By (Michael Corleone)

Sonny Corleone dating his opposite

Phillipe Gaston x reader~ Fairy Tale 

Being Fulton's sister and Dating Dean Portman

Comforting Todd when he’s upset

Being married to Bill S. Preston Esquire

Being married to Ted Logan

Spending Halloween/October with Knox Overstreet

Making out with Knox

A will they, won’t they relationship with Seth Brundle

Falling in love with Edward Scissorhands

Dwayne Hicks with an Android!Technician s/o

Private Joker dating an artist 

Jareth falling in love with you

Being married to Matt Hooper and going to Amity

The way you make me feel~ John Bender

Being in a long term relationship with JD

J.D. with a chronically ill s/o

Archie with a chronically ill s/o

Making out with Ted Logan

Archibald Craven falling in love

Andy Dufresne falling in love

Nsfw Headcanons~ 

Group sex with the lost boys

Sam Emerson

Threesome with Obie and Archie

Armand

Archie Costello

(sub) Archie Costello

Obie

Johnny Cade

Cameron Frye

Duckie Dale

Blane

John Bender

Randy (Intruder)

Joey Donner

Kenneth Wurman

Keith Nelson

The Dead Poets Kinks

Knox Overstreet

Charlie Dalton

Steven Meeks

Todd Anderson

Neil Perry

Gerard Pitts

John Bender taking your virginity

Louis de Pointe du Lac

Dinger Holfield

The Lost Boys

JD

Randall ‘Pink’ Floyd

Benny O’donnell

Fred O’Bannion

Cliff

Bryce

Johnny Walker

George Mcfly

Brian Moreland

(sub) Perry Barnett 

Bill S. Preston Esquire

Ted Logan

Randy Meeks

Michael Emerson

Nancy Downs

Ray Stantz

Egon Spengler

Spike

Angel Guzman

Sgt. Hartman

Brad Hamilton

Douglas Quaid

Chris (night of the creeps)

Sonny Corleone with a shy, virgin s/o

George Mcfly getting jealous and being dominant

Grease Monkey (Keith Nelson smut)

Sins of the flesh and matters of the heart (David x reader + Dwayne smut)

[melis-writes]

Mafia Wife [Sonny Corleone x Reader Multichapter, 18+ Smut] Chapter 1 – La Famiglia Giordano.

Read on AO3 / Chapter Masterlist.

18+, explicit smut read.

“You wanted to name our first-born daughter Gabriella.” / “You’re Gabriella, aren’t you?”

“The underboss’s wife”; that’s who you are, and the whispers of enemies, family and colleagues alike know it too. You’re no stranger to the underworld of crime surrounding you including the one run by the Corleone family’s underboss; Santino Corleone. The streets run red with blood and brutality under Santino’s influence but it’s Santino who feels hit by the thunderbolt at the very sight of you—pushing away his womanizing and notorious unfaithfulness. You unexpectedly find yourself in a position of power balancing your marriage with the fate of the Corleone’s family’s future whether it be through Santino’s infamous brutality or the love he finds amidst the man he claims to be.

[WARNINGS]: Mentions of violence & death / Alcohol use / Pregnancy / Childbirth.

[AUTHOR'S NOTE]: The very first chapter of my Sonny Corleone x Reader fic is FINALLY here!! 🥰✨ Thank you guys SO much for all of the endless support and love this fic received when it was just an idea and barely typed out! I'm so glad to finally have it up. By far the most exhausting and longest part of the fic process is planning a brand new one for me, and I had definitely been much busier than usual when planning out/writing this fic which is why it took so long to write. I had to give something for the Santino girlies as I'm one myself!! 👀❤️ Please read ALL of the tags on this fic on AO3 before diving into the chapters as it'll give you a good understanding as to what the entire fic and chapters will be like. This goes for ALL fics I write! The tags are there for a reason. This fic is also 18+ only, just like all of my other works forever and always. This is meant for adults to read only. ✋🏻

Chapter 1: La Famiglia Giordano.

[ Barzini Family Estate, 1948 ]

“Nobody wants another war,” Don Barzini states, watching the ice soaking in his glass of whiskey. “Nobody wanted another war; isn’t that how it always goes?”

Don Tattaglia gives his head a shake, relaxing in the leather armchair he sits across from Barzini. “We have Sollozzo to thank for all of that.”

Having an otherwise civil discussion between two closely allied business partners and old friends, the bond Don Barzini and Don Tattaglia’s family share has been stronger than ever since Sollozzo. 

Despite successfully allying together against the Corleones throughout the Five Families War and coming together for talk over business, neither Barzini nor Tattaglia can ignore the air of tension that’s formed between them now. 

Barzini can easily tell Tattaglia is unnerved as he sips his whiskey again, savoring the smokey notes of the liquid over his tongue while noticing how Tattaglia is nearly chugging back his drink.

“You’re tense,” Barzini comments, somewhat surprised by Tattaglia’s behavior. “Are you going to tell me what’s on your mind or not?”

“How can I not be?” Tattaglia swallows down his drink. 

“You’re looking at all of this the wrong way, my friend,” Barzini gives a reassuring smile. “You’re on the winning side. The Godfather has no leverage over either of our families or—”

“Vito Corleone isn’t my concern,” Tattaglia interrupts.

“Hmm,” Barzini pauses, taking a sip of his drink again. “Then that’s a first.”

“It’s his son,” Tattaglia adds.

“Which one?” Barzini rolls his eyes. “They’re all equally useless in their own ways.”

Tattalia opens his mouth to answer before pausing for a moment; a look of absolute defeat crosses his expression, forming into regret, then helplessness. “Does the name ‘Gabriella’ ring a bell to you?”

Barzini raises a curious brow. “Maybe. Should it? Does The Godfather have another daughter we don’t know about?”

“He has a daughter-in-law,” Tattaglia answers, “Gabriella Corleone. She’s the daughter of Francesco Giordano.”

Barzini tenses for a moment, no longer focusing on his whiskey. “I… I see.”

“You know Gabriella then?” Tattagia asks back.

“Not personally, but her name was spoken often in my household. Was,” Barzini emphasizes. 

Tattaglia sighs softly, giving his head a shake.

“Emilio wanted to marry her,” Barzini continues, mentioning his eldest son. “He spoke of Gabriella fondly and often, but she refused him and his advances. Now you’re telling me she’s part of the Corleone family?”

“Francesco did well hiding the news from us for the most part,” Tattaglia points out. “Everyone else must have known.”

“No, no,” Barzini shakes his head, refusing. “I don’t think of it in that way. Francesco is a dear friend. He doesn’t ‘hide’ things. He values the privacy he can give his family.”

“If you want to put it that way,” Tattaglia mumbles. “It’s none of our business, is it? She married Santino Corleone, the underboss.”

Barzini freezes in his seat, attempting to calm himself down internally as Tattaglia immediately picks up on Barzini’s shocked expression.

Tattaglia nods grimly, “do you know what you’ve done?”

“Don’t,” Barzini mutters softly, holding up his free hand. 

“She’s pregnant,” Tattaglia adds. “Do you even care? Do you know what’s going to happen now? To your investments? Your wealth? Your bank accounts with Giordano?”

Barzini suddenly lets go of his whiskey glass, watching as the glass shatters to pieces over the floor and the alcohol spills free onto the wood. 

Barzini covers his face with shame, feeling a knot of heavy emotions cause him to feel nauseous almost instantly with unimaginable guilt.

A heavy silence sits in the air between the two men for a minute as they ponder, having nothing else to say to each other. 

“I will apologize to Gabriella,” Barzini finally speaks, raising his head out of his hands.

“You can’t,” Tattaglia frowns. “You can’t do anything anymore.”

~

[ 1921 ]

“Gabriella… Little Gabriella.” You’re the first-born daughter in your family to four older brothers, and the eldest to your twin sister, born just forty minutes apart.

Although your mother went into labor knowing she’d welcome two children instead of one on June 19th, 1921, nothing could surpass the joy your mother and father felt when you were born.

Just as your four eldest brothers had been born, your mother gave birth to you and your twin sister Bella at home, surrounded by two Italian-American nurses from the community who had helped your mother through her previous deliveries.

Your parents weren’t sure what to expect when your mother realized she was pregnant with her fifth child since the last four children she gave birth to were all boys.

“Will it be another boy this time?” Your father chuckled and placed his hand over the top of your mother’s seven-month-old baby bump. “Perhaps two boys?”

“Oh, please,” your mother let out a laugh, “we have more than enough boys. I would love a daughter this time around. One boy and one girl, or twin girls even.”

“What a dream that would be,” your father grinned. “It seems like we’ve had all the luck in the world for having sons. No matter,” he leaned over, kissing your mother’s baby bump gently. “Boy or girl loved all the same. Spoiled like his or her other siblings. Only two this time…” He pulled away, looking up at your mother. “I can’t wait to meet them, darling.”

“Me too, sweetheart,” your mother blushed and laced both of her hands with your father’s. “Two more additions to the family. You know what I said when we first married? About baby names?”

“I do, mhmm,” your father nodded. “You wanted to name our first-born daughter Gabriella.”

“I do,” your mother smiled warmly. “I still do.”

“Of course. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. I still remember,” he gave your mother’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “I hope this time we get to meet little Gabriella.”

“I hope so too, my love.”

Even before you were born, you were loved. The idea of you was loved, your name was loved, and everything and anything you could be from birth to adulthood to old age was loved. 

Nothing compared to how overwhelmed with joy your mother felt when she smiled up weakly at you, tears in her eyes from excruciating contractions hitting her again and again to see and hear one of the nurses declare, “it’s a girl!”

Before your mother went back into labor to give birth to your twin sister forty minutes later, she held you in her arms and cooed to you through her tears of happiness. “Gabriella… Gabriella...”

She kissed your cheeks wet with tears as your father let you hold his finger with your tiny hand, looking down upon you with so much love and happiness.

You were born into this world loved and welcomed just as your siblings were, and just as you would always be. 

Your twin sister and you were born to the Giordano family; a family that came from money which was no secret nor meant to be one.

Your father, Francesco Giordano, better known as “Frankie” by his friends and business partners, was born in Sicily, but your grandparents had already been living in and had immigrated to New York.

Your father came from a lengthy family history of educated individuals; spanning seven generations of university graduates and had graduated from Columbia University himself in 1912.

Your mother, Rosa nee De Luca, who was born in Long Island, New York to Sicilian parents, had met your father in that same year. 

Having many connections or even just one to a crime family served to be the best for anyone’s interests, even those who didn’t want to get “involved” indirectly or directly, and then there are always individuals who wouldn’t mind the close ties with the mafia so as long as they stray from direct intervention or get too close, could always reap the benefits of work connections by having powerful friends in powerful places.

Your father and his family practiced the same mantra as many others; don’t get too close to the mafia to avoid getting burned, by maintaining a healthy business relationship and community friendliness.

Since the days of your great-grandfather, your father inherited the ownership of several small banks that his family had started; serving the local community and operating for middle-class families with day-to-day funds, support for home ownership, and loans.

The success of your father’s family business in banking was steady and promising, working out very well to attract a clientele of all kinds from the Italian-American community in particular.

Your father built his business connections where your grandfather left off but also started new ones with the Italian community in the neighborhood and area as well as being involved with all of the crime families himself, but with some more than others.

Everyone, including the mafia, knows Frankie Giordano to be an honest businessman who makes a living to feed his family. Your father also happens to be smart and witty about it too.

Frankie Giordano built a name for himself without feeding off of his father’s legacy and thus deepened the trust and bond the Giordano family already had with the mafia when it came to loans and money laundering.

One could say your father always went to the bank laughing, and the mafia made sure of that for the excellent service rendered by the Giordano banks. 

Your father also knew that his future wife—your mother—would benefit greatly from that, and thus so would all of his and her children.

Your father had no intention of keeping the truth and ties of his business affairs from you, your twin sister Bella, or any of your brothers for that matter. He would only wait to tell you all in due time when you’d be mature enough to understand and process it.

Even if in the future and all grown up none of you were remotely interested in the booming world of business and finance, you’d at least benefit immensely from inheritance and the steady flow of wealth and investments.

Your father’s closest business partners were that of the Corleone and Tattaglia families, although the Barzini’s were getting close enough to join the list too.

Your family is protected from conflicting interests and possible hostilities between rival families because your father’s business is legal, public and there’s mutual respect and understanding of what your family’s banks provide with respect grandfathered in. 

Despite Frankie Giordano’s wealth and success, your father was never the type of man to flaunt or brag—just maintaining his work ethic with dedication like none other; traits you would indeed inherit from him.

In many ways, your father would see a lot of himself in you as you grew older, such as the fact you too could see light at the end of every tunnel and that you also valued family and morals over money and power.

Such traits and beliefs made your father a true family man under times of turmoil and stress, and it also helped you understand the world around you better.

Your father married your mother, Rosa, in 1914 after almost two years of courtship with no intention to push or rush their relationship for the sake of tying the knot quickly.

Your mother comes from a family of wealthy socialites who built upon their wealth by investing and simply being connected to the right people. 

Your parents met each other through a social outing when your mother’s family became all the more interested in investing in Giordano family banks.

“It’s one thing to believe in something such as love at first sight. Love can be so fickle, but when it happens to you, it changes you completely,” your mother had once told you.

The wit and cunning your mother showed growing up as a young woman were learned from family members around her and would no doubt pass on to you as well.

Through your mother, you also discovered your passion and love for art and botany, whereas your twin sister Bella felt the same and was more connected to architecture, nature, and the outdoors. 

When your parents settled down and planned to have a family of their own, your brothers, you, and your sister would come from and be born into a family of love and respect that could never be unbound.

You knew from a very young age early on that your parents loved each other very much, and although all couples disagree and have their fights, you still can’t recall a single moment where you heard your parents raise their voices at each other in front of you, let alone fight or argue in front of you and your siblings either.

Growing up, all you knew is you loved and wished for the same peace and calm love your parents shared.

You don’t want to be “madly” in love; you want a peaceful and understanding love—the kind your mother and father share with each other with the kind of expectations they lived through and passed onto you.

Everything you’ve learned about love was through your parents, and it set your heart’s wants and needs as a young woman.

Your mother, who is not easily impressed by just anything, had taught you to be the same and explore your options with all things when you were a teenager.

“What pleases the eye once may not do so the second time. The world is filled with options. Your heart will know what’s best for you.”

While your mother was eighteen years old when she married your father, she gave birth to your eldest brother—Luca—in 1915.

Right up until your mother’s maternity leave, she was a private art teacher in New York City who specialized in teaching about painting; classical, renaissance, religious, and abstract. 

Your mother would not return back to teaching part-time until 1936 when your sister Bella and you were about fifteen years old and the family could easily sustain and take care of itself throughout the day.

Your mother also preferred to teach part-time instead of full-time before she began to have children because she preferred to spend most of her time with the grandchildren she welcomed over the years.

Coming up to 1939, you and your sister were eligible bachelorettes in your family alongside one bachelor brother—Giani—but it would be you, the most eligible bachelorette considering your circumstances and your sister’s traveling abroad that would not only bring you upon him—Santino Corleone—but the Corleone family and their history with the Giordano’s in due time.

[ 1920, Hell’s Kitchen, New York ]

“There will never be come a day—” Francesco says, sketching out the outline of a small olive branch over a scrap piece of paper in front of him, “where they outlaw this, my friend. Never. The olive? They could not,” your father admires his sketch, darkening the two olives he drew hanging on the branch. “The olive provides too much—it does too much. You buy it from Vito Corleone—Genco Olive Oil—” he smiles up at Vito who returns the warm expression, popping a black olive in his mouth from the small platter in front of them.

“And you use it in your cooking,” your father continues, taking an olive and putting it in his mouth. “It’s too versatile, too much of a need for the average family to outlaw.”

“I can’t see any Italian family without a bottle in their home,” Vito chuckles quietly.

“Exactly,” your father points out, reaching into the drawer beneath him for a moment.

Vito glances over curiously, watching as Francesco pulls out a concealed bottle of unopened Jack Daniel’s whiskey before setting it on the front counter in front of him.

“You don’t have to worry about the repercussions of buying a bottle or whole barrel of olive oil. This though,” your father taps the back of his fingernails against the bottle of alcohol. “Is a crime. This bottle here.”

Vito raises a curious brow; amusement twinkling in his eyes as to how nonchalantly your father pulled out a bottle of unopened whiskey.

“My father’s favorite drink served on ice. Bought and sold everywhere, now it’s illegal,” Francesco chuckles, shaking his head. “Now, buying and selling alcohol is illegal. Just like that.”

“They could never expect to stop everyone from doing so,” Vito chimes in.

“Exactly, my friend,” your father begins to open up the bottle, grabbing two small glasses from the cupboard beneath the front counter at which he and Vito sit. “They never can, but they know they never could. I don’t know how much longer this silliness will last, but,” Francesco begins to pour Vito and himself a glass of whiskey, “there’s plenty more of where this came from. No questions asked, no eyebrows raised.”

A curious look crosses Vito’s eyes as he takes his glass of whiskey before glancing down at it. Naturally, he immediately begins to wonder how many bottles Francesco has, where he got them from, how he got them, and where they’ll go.

“You are the most resourceful friend I know,” Vito comments, “do I need to ask?”

“You can,” your father replies, knowing, of course, Vito’s curiosity is only normal and expected, “if we can come to an agreement first, my friend.”

Your father was the first man to lend Vito Corleone money; give him his first full loan just by knowing his full name and without any interest.

Your father gave Vito a chance—one of his first chances—without even knowing it, and through such a chance came one lucrative business opportunity after another.

If your father and Vito were involved in something, then it meant there was plenty of money to be made under the table without asking questions and with no risk of getting caught.

Whether your father and Vito formally acknowledged it or not, they were a duo of sorts.

Your father trusted Vito while knowing Vito was indeed settling the roots of his one crime family just as the other mafia families in New York were.

Your father didn’t care about Vito’s involvement in crime or anything of the sort; your father was and is a banker by trade and name, and money always talked.

With prohibition starting in 1920 with a surplus of alcohol to be smuggled from your father’s contacts in Canada, there was nothing but profit to be made from the business for however long prohibition would last.

Securing and solidifying a strong friendship already, the prohibition era would make both your family and Vito’s very wealthy from the moment Vito smiled and shook your father’s hand in agreement, knowing all the same.

That was hardly the beginning of the Giordano and Corleone family’s friendship and ties with one another.

That same year, Vito Corleone would kill Don Fanucci.

Despite the concept being thought of by everyone who had the misfortune to know Fanucci, many didn’t believe Fanucci would be outright killed.

It was merely something men fantasized about to set themselves free of the financial obligations Fanucci put forward and fears they would be killed, extorted, go missing, or worse.

Taking Fanucci out was a fantasy, nobody could do it except for Vito Corleone.

If it was anyone your father had faith in to stand up to a brutish man like Fanucci, it was Vito Corleone, but your father also didn’t expect Vito to murder Fanucci the way he did and so soon.

On that fateful day, your father was closing up his main bank’s branch for the day; having put up the “closed” sign on the front door and lowered the blinds more than halfway down.

He had not yet locked the front door since he was up at the front anyway, and your father would be able to see anyone coming to approach the bank’s entrance before they could even think of trying the door.

At that time, your father was counting some of the spare change in one of the last drawers quietly, noting that it was 5:30 PM and rush hour had fully kicked in.

Humming quietly to himself, Francesco put the spare change in his pocket before closing up the cash register and locking it with his key.

Only for a moment did your father look up to see the faint figure of a passerby without paying too much attention to it.

In a few moments from now, Francesco would lock up the bank and head home; your mother was expecting him with a hot meal on the table and she was pregnant with you and your twin sister Bella at the time.

In a good mood and having enjoyed his work day, your father slowly began to stop humming upon hearing footsteps from that same figure grow closer to the bank’s front door.

Your father knew it wasn’t someone out strolling or wandering, but rather approaching the bank directly and standing in front of the door.

Your father kept his hand over his pistol carefully concealed underneath an old polishing rag on the front counter while watching the figure’s movements by the door.

It was then that Francesco noticed who the figure was, seeing no cause for panic or alarm.

It was Peter Clemenza, and he was revealing himself to your father to avoid a bullet in between the eyes at this hour.

Clemenza lifted up the “closed” sign in front of the door and peeked his head in; urgency in his eyes and beckoning with his hands to be let in.

Your father moved his hand away from the pistol and gestured for Clemenza to enter since the door wasn’t locked.

Sighing in relief, Clemenza quickly entered and shut the door behind him instantly, wasting no time.

Your father could easily tell Clemenza was alarmed but didn’t have a look on his face that spelled it was his problem.

Before your father could barely blink or open his mouth to ask Clemenza what was going on, Clemenza immediately stated, “Fanucci is dead.”

Your father stared back at him in shock, pausing for a moment to take everything in. “What? Dead?”

“Dead,” Clemenza confirms, locking the bank door and taking off his fedora. “I came over here as fast as I could to tell you.”

“Who else knows?” Francesco asked quietly.

“Roth, Genco, and Tessio so far,” Clemenza answered, catching his breath. “This is gonna send fuckin’ shockwaves throughout the neighborhood.”

“My God,” your father muttered under his breath, smoothening out the sides of his slicked-back hair. “And Vito? Does Vito know yet?”

Clemenza chuckles, shaking his head. “Who do you think did it, Frankie? Vito killed Fanucci. Shot that son of a bitch right in his own apartment. Don’t worry—“ He holds up a hand, “Vito handled everything.”

“Does he need anything?” Your father offered, stepping out from behind the front counter.

“Yeah, but I have a feeling you already know what,” Clemenza shrugged his shoulders. “That bastard Fanucci took half of our dime each and every time. He still dealt with your bank, right?”

“He has an account here,” Francesco nodded.

“Good,” Clemenza put his fedora back on, adjusting it. “Because everything in Fanucci’s account needs to all go to Vito now.”

It was true that Fanucci’s death, it now meant his money and assets held at the Giordano banks had to go somewhere, and your father couldn’t agree more to it going straight to Vito.

Fanucci had been stingy and extra hard on Vito over anyone, despite Vito being understanding and gentle to counter each and every time.

Still, Fanucci took hundreds of dollars worth of cuts from Vito’s pay every single time and still threatened to have him killed at the same time.

Francesco had no pity whatsoever towards Fanucci or his family, and if Vito was going to be the one taking back the money Fanucci stole from him and everyone else, then your father would agree to let it happen.

After all, Francesco knew Vito Corleone wasn’t the kind of man to take all that money and spend it on himself.

Vito proved your father’s beliefs about the security of Fanucci’s money and assets being transferred to Vito’s accounts when he saw for himself how Vito spread the money back into the Italian-American community and only taking the exact fair share that he kept track of since Fanucci began taking it.

Afterward, Francesco closed down Fanucci’s account at his bank and erased all existence and history of it, so if the police came around to ask questions, there wouldn’t be a single answer available.

Having Fanucci killed wasn’t something your father expected to happen in 1920—not while prohibition was still ongoing—and by Vito Corleone’s hand, nonetheless.

At the time, the only exciting news for Francesco Giordano was that he was expecting his wife to give birth to twin babies in the upcoming year.

~

In 1921, you and your twin sister Gabriella were born.

Your family did not live in stress due to any direct involvement in mafia affairs or had any fears to worry about what the mafia and those associated with its lifestyle of crime were doing.

Nothing stopped your family from continuing to live out their lives as normal, peaceful, and lawful with the police and government as many see fit despite what your father had known, seen, and been involved with in the past year.

Your father promised himself that he would never do or say anything to jeopardize the safety and happiness of his family nor put his family in any situation where they would live in fear and become potential targets to anyone or anything.

After all, your father had been expecting the birth of you and your baby sister—experiencing fatherhood all over again and surprisingly to two daughters this time.

Nothing else needed to get in the way of Francesco Giordano when he was welcoming two little babies to his family. Nothing to stress out his wife either and Francesco made certain of this.

It was on June 19th, 1921 that your mother, Rosa, went into labor in the comfort of her own home for six hours to give birth to you and your twin sister.

The same nurses who helped your mother give birth to your brothers were at your mother’s side again as your father also sat with her and held your mother’s hand for comfort—wiping the sweat off of her forehead and making soft conversation.

Everyone involved kept Rosa as comfortable as they best could, remaining vigilant in observation and getting Rosa anything she may need.

“Ti amo,” (I love you) your father whispered in your mother’s ear. “Sei una donna forte e ce la farai.” (You’re a strong woman and you’re going to get through this.)

Your mother’s strength thick and thin always had your father in awe, and your father never left your mother’s side throughout the six hours of tedious and agonizing labor.

Neither of your parents will ever forget the overwhelming joy and excitement they felt hearing the nurse announce, “it’s a girl!” for the first time as your mother gave birth to you.

Your mother smiled throughout her tears as she reached out to hold you and your father teared up too, seeing that he now had a baby daughter.

Sobbing from nothing but happiness and relief, your mother held your tiny self in her arms for a few moments before her body would prepare again to give birth to your twin sister Bella in the next forty minutes.

“Gabriella, Gabriella…” Your father cooed softly, attempting to soothe you as you cried out in your mother’s arms. “Welcome to the world, my beautiful girl.”

If it was a shock to have a daughter after giving birth to so many little boys, the ultimate surprise was your parents realizing that they were having two daughters.

So many happy tears and laughter were shared in that room, relief washing over everyone and the exhaustion of labor beginning to kick in.

Your family welcomed you and your twin sister Bella to the world in 1921, and your mother and father held both you and Bella in their arms, whispering promises that they would love and protect you both no matter what; that they’d do anything to give you and your siblings a good life.

Your eldest brother, Luca, who was five years old at the time was ecstatic, as were four-year-old Romeo, Casio, and little Giani to welcome two baby sisters.

Truly, it was one of the happiest moments of your mother and father’s lives.

~

In 1922 as you and Bella were just little babies growing up, one thing had become all the more apparent to all men who lived in Long Island—particularly the Italian community and the one in Hell’s Kitchen too.

Crime families at this time had bonded and grown stronger with all the more influence now. They were too powerful to be considered Fanucci wannabees as they could no longer be reckoned with alone.

Such power and influence amidst crime families brought business and organization, but that also meant rampant crime and fear even if it was not always noticeable.

One had to be careful dealing with crime families for whatever reasons since rivalry, although relatively uncommon at the time did exist and caused enough trouble.

Your father was only allied with and close friends with Vito and the Corleone family at the time, so no rivalry concerned him.

“Let me know if you need anything else, my friend,” Francesco said, patting Vito’s shoulder. “I can find a way to get funds to you in Sicily in less than two days if needed.”

“I will be fine, Frankie. Thank you,” Vito chuckled and smiled at your father. “I’m very grateful and appreciative for all the help you’ve provided my family and me.”

“You know I can say the same to you,” Francesco nodded back. “I’m too used to seeing you down these neighborhoods. You’ll be missed, Vito Corleone, but this trip is just what you need, isn’t it? For family and for peace.”

“Exactly,” Vito reaffirmed, “I won’t put it off longer than I need to. Don Ciccio is a withered old man now but he doesn’t deserve to die from something so merciful such as old age.”

“I agree,” Francesco replied. “He is a vile and sick man obsessed with power. He always has been. Maybe once he’s finally out of the picture, the rest of us can peacefully return to Sicily for a family trip as we wish to.”

“Many have said the same to me before,” Vito frowned. “I doubt Ciccio will remember me, but that is exactly what I will use to my advantage. It didn’t have to be this way, but…” Vito stroked his chin, “I lost my entire family to that foul man.”

“You don’t need to justify it to me or anyone else, Vito,” Francesco shook his head. “His death is in your hands now. You know I would come to aid you if I could. Either way, I support you.”

“I know you would, my friend, which is why we must part ways for now,” warmth flickered in Vito’s eyes. I can’t do this to you; you just had your little girls and they need their father with them more than ever.”

“So as long as they get to see their godfather soon again,” your father grinned. “Rosa is expecting you and Carmela all ready for dinner. Mrs. Corleone is expecting now too, is she not?”

“Indeed,” Vito beamed. “And we are taking little Michael to Sicily for this time on this trip.”

At that time, Carmela Corleone was pregnant with her first and only daughter, Constanzia.

“Ah, little Michael,” your father’s eyes lit up. “No naughtiness from the little man, I hope?”

“He’s a good, quiet young man,” Vito let out a soft laugh. “This trip will give him more stories to listen to about Sicily since he won’t remember it when he’s older.”

“Of course,” your father smiled, “just keep that fiery Santino by your side.”

“Carmela says the same,” Vito pointed out. “Don’t worry, I will. He’s a good boy too, I promise, although he could benefit from learning more manners.”

“Can’t we all?” Laughing, the two men shared a farewell hug.

“Be careful and be well, Vito,” your father cautioned. “Enemies may still be lurking in Sicily, looking for you, especially if you seek revenge.”

“It’ll be as if I wasn’t even there.”

~

[ 1939, Present Day ]

The first to welcome their first children into the Corleone family with Carmela and Vito Corleone excited to welcome a grandchild are Tom and Theresa Hagen; expecting their first baby early next year.

It’s no surprise that at first all eyes were on Santino—the eldest son of the Corleone family—to settle down and start a family first instead of Tom or anyone else, despite Tom being the same age—twenty three.

The only difference between the two men in terms of settling down to have a family was that Tom is in love with an investing in his love life and marriage with Theresa, an American woman, whereas Sonny hardly knows what “settling down” means.

It’s only in Sonny’s best interest to switch from one woman to another, a one nightstand again and again with no care as to how others may see Sonny to be very promiscuous with no shame or intent to stop sleeping around to even think about marrying someone.

Celebrating the baby shower for Tom and Theresa planned today, the nature of the event to both Tom and Theresa is private and intimate, hence their invitations only being sent out to the closest friends of the Corleone family.

Only the Giordano’s, Barzini’s and Cuneo’s are invited today with the vast majority of the women helping with the cooking back inside and the men upstairs in Don Corleone’s office.

Despite the family history with the Giordano’s, this is the first time you’re attending a Corleone family event and the very first time you’ll be visiting the Corleone estate.

Your father and brothers have visited the Corleone’s numerous times previously and know them better than any other business partner or friend, but neither you nor Bella have had the opportunity to yourselves.

Bella is more than halfway through her first semester at the Academy of Fine Arts in Vienna however, leaving you to be the only woman of the family next to your mother.

With the baby shower celebrations ongoing this afternoon in the courtyard of the Corleone estate to enjoy the fresh spring air and sun, men seeing Vito Corleone inside present Don Corleone with gifts meant for the expecting couple out of respect first.

Connie carefully balances one gift box over another by a table reserved just for baby shower gifts, making sure the presents don’t topple over one another from solely the sheer number of how many there are.

Arriving just five minutes after your father and brother, your chauffer passes clearance at the main gates of the Corleone estate before slowly beginning to park inside.

Your father and brothers have joined Barzini and Cuneo’s sons upstairs in Vito’s office where Sonny, Tom and Fredo also remain, but Michael—the youngest son of the Corleone family—is away at Dartmouth College for study.

Once the topic at hand ends in Vito’s office, Tom will come back out to the courtyard to thank and meet all the guests at the baby shower himself.

The rest of the men are not expected to in order to keep a low profile and spend as much time discussing business with Don Corleone as possible.

The only Corleone family member you know personally is Carmella and you’ve enjoyed every bit of time you’ve gotten to spend with her in the past when Carmela came to visit and bake desserts with you and your mother from time to time.

You know you’ll be meeting Theresa—the one expecting—and Connie Corleone as well for the first time.

“Benvenuti, miei cari!” (Welcome, my darlings!) Carmela happily blurts as she rushes down to the gates to greet you and your mother the moment you two step out of the vehicle.

“Carmela!” Your mother beams, pulling her into a warm hug. “Come stai dolcezza? È da parecchio tempo!” (How are you, honey? It’s been so long!)

“Yes, it has!” Carmela lets out a soft laugh before she cups your cheeks gently. “È passato tanto tempo perché guarda Gabriella! Adesso è diventata una bellissima giovane donna!” (It has been so long because look at Gabriella! She's all grown up now into a beautiful young woman!)

“Hi, Mama Corleone,” you giggle back, giving her a hug. “It’s so good to see you again.”

“And you as well, honey—mwah,” Carmela kisses both of your cheeks again, “she’s grown up to be such a beauty, hasn’t she?”

“Very much so,” your mother happily agrees. “And I’m excited for her to meet your girls!”

“As am I!” Carmela gestures excitedly, “come on in, ladies. All the men are already inside seeing Vito, I doubt they’ll even bother to come step out but in any case—that doesn’t matter. We’re all very excited for Theresa expecting her little one soon!”

“How far along is she?” You ask, walking into the Corleone estate grounds with your mother and Carmela.

“She’s about seven months pregnant now,” Carmela answers. “I can’t wait to introduce you to her. I know all you lovely ladies will get along just fine!”

Before you can say anything else, you step into the Corleone estate’s courtyard with Carmela and your mother to be hit with awe from the beauty of the estate surrounding you.

A gazebo stands in the further end of the courtyard with the manor itself built in a classic American style but with small details to Italian architecture.

The courtyard in which you stand in is surrounded by a blossoming garden, spotless and filled with ample enough space to host over four hundred people comfortably.

“So beautiful,” you murmur in surprise; momentarily turning back to see your chauffer placing the carefully wrapped giftboxes filled with the presents your mother and you chose for the baby shower by the table with the other gifts.

For your baby shower gift to Tom and Theresa, you picked out an abundance of cotton diapers, two bibs, three different pacifiers and a baby mat. 

As your mother and Mama Corleone are lost in conversation, you look up to see a heavily pregnant woman—Theresa—rise up from her seat at her table with  her hand over her baby bump.

Petite frame, blonde with bright eyes and American, Theresa’s eyes land on you as another woman approaches her by her side—a Sicilian—who looks like a striking combination of Carmela and Vito combined.

You assume this must be Connie—the only daughter of the Corleone family that your mother and Mama Corleone lead you up to now for introductions.

“Here is our lovely Theresa!” Carmela gestures to the pregnant young woman. “Seven months in with her little one already. Theresa, this is the daughter of my best friend, Gabriella. Her family is from Sicily too.”

“Hello,” Theresa shyly reaches out her hand to you. “It’s nice to meet you, Gabriella.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Theresa,” you give her a polite smile, shaking her hand back. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you!” Theresa’s eyes light up.

“And this is my daughter, Connie,” Carmela introduces Connie to you next, and you immediately notice Connie is much less shyer than her sister-in-law Theresa with a sparkle of excitement in her eyes from being introduced to you.

“Hi Gabriella,” Connie grins, “are you the only daughter in your family too?”

“Not exactly,” you let out a laugh, “I have a twin sister but she’s studying abroad.”

“Ah, lucky you! I’m the only sister,” Connie gives your hand a warm squeeze.

“I know what it’s like to grow up with many brothers around you, trust me,” you giggle back, knowing from what your mother told you that the Corleone’s are almost just as big of a family as yours and with many sons.

“Tell me about it,” Connie holds back her laughter and it immediately strikes you that Connie appears to be type of woman you can easily get along with and make the best of friends with her.

Just as warm, loving and trusting as Connie seems, you also can’t push past or ignore how you pick up an explainable kind of yearning sadness behind Connie’s eyes too.

Just as you’re thinking, Connie’s yearning to make a friend with someone like you and knowing she can easily be able to do so considering how close your families are; both of you around the same age and with familiar backgrounds.

Back inside Don Corleone’s office, greetings, congratulations and humble gift giving to Vito Corleone for Tom and Theresa’s baby shower has come to an end as Tom smiles to himself and keeps the stack of guests in the corner of Vito’s office and takes his seat again near his father.

A glass of richly aged bourbon is served for all of the men and Vito’s office door remains slightly ajar to help keep the air from getting stuffy from cigarette smoke.

“But the war,” Sonny begins, unamused, “it doesn’t mean too much for us, anyway.”

“Not at all,” your father says, shaking his head. “It’s a shame with all the bloodshed going on in Europe right now, but our interests remain the same and our assets here are protected.”

“We expect a prosperous new decade of us nonetheless,” Don Barzini adds.

“As do I,” Vito agrees. “One can only be concerned so much as to what strangers abroad are doing or how they risk their lives. We must work together so there’s no war between our families and only peace.”

“I have to say,” Tom speaks up, “to have no rivalry despite working with our families and their investments is impressive, Mr. Giordano.”

“I appreciate your praise, Tom,” Francesco gives Tom a polite smile. “In this line of work, I had to be a salesman and businessman. I hope our families can continue to be civil and work with one another. I know my wife enjoys the company of our family get-togethers and it would also be good for Gabriella as well, considering her sister is in Austria.”

“Ah, how is she?” Vito’s eyes light up in interest. “Enjoying her time abroad?”

“Indeed,” your father nods happily, “Bella is taking a varieties of courses on subjects in the arts, especially music and literature It’s good for her to broaden her horizons but I miss her, and I think Gabriella does too, of course.”

“Ah, very understandable,” Don Cuneo nods.

‘Gabriella?’ Sonny blinks, thinking to himself. ‘Who is she?’

“Michael is the same,” Vito gives his shoulders a shrug. “He is at Dartmouth now and I am proud of him for entering study in political science.”

“He doesn’t wish to follow in your footsteps, Vito?” Don Barzini smirks.

“He wants no involvement whatsoever,” Vito shakes his head. “Which is more than fine with me. Michael seeks a career in politics. I say sometimes American politics can be so foolish, but Michael can also be stubborn when he wants to. Nonetheless,” Vito places his hands down upon his desk, “I’m very proud of him.”

“Indecisive, perhaps?” Your father suggests.

“Nah,” Sonny interrupts, scoffing. “Michael wants to do everything and anything.”

“He is the youngest after all,” Tom chuckles quietly. “Then my sister Connie who is the youngest child of the family.”

“Ah, the lovely Connie,” Francesco smiles warmly, “of course. Michael is a bachelor, then?”

“All my sons are, except Tom,” Vito answers, somewhat unhappy about his answer. “Perhaps that will change, won’t it, Fredo?” Vito gives Fredo a gentle pat on the shoulder.

“Sure, Pop,” Fredo says back sheepishly.

“And Santino’s a different story,” Vito continues, gesturing to his eldest son.

“I dunno,” Sonny chuckles to himself, shrugging his shoulders. “Marriage isn’t really something on my mind just yet, you know.”

“Would you like to marry in the future, though?” Don Cuneo asks him.

“I do,” Sonny nods, “have some kids, a family—settle down, yeah. Why not? I just don’t think I got any opportunity to now but I’m not the kind of man who would push it all away.”

Vito nods, staring back down at his drink in hopes the conversation about Sonny being a bachelorette will change in the next few moments, for the sake of the Corleone family’s dignity.

Vito knows everyone else in the room is just as away of Sonny’s promiscuous behaviour and lifestyle as he is, after all.

~

Out in the courtyard with the ladies and you, most of the conversation continues with your mother, Theresa and Carmela, all giddy about Theresa’s pregnancy.

“Congratulations again, honey,” your mother tells Theresa, “how has it been for you so far? An easy pregnancy, I hope.”

“A little difficult, honestly,” Theresa admits, sheepishly. “It’s improving though.”

“It will for baby number two as well,” Carmela chimes in.

You turn back to Connie and smile, inviting a conversation of your own that she starts.

“Welcome, Gabriella,” Connie says to you, “it’s honestly nice to put a name to a face at last. Mama has told me a bit about you and your sister but we surprisingly never had the chance to meet.”

“I know,” you pout, “I wish we could have met one another much sooner. My twin sister is in Austria right now, actually, so she has no chance at all yet. You know, touring Western Europe when she feels up to an adventure. I’m not so lucky or adventurous though,” you laugh.

“Neither am I,” Connie admits, “it’s refreshing to meet someone like you. What’s Bella in Austria for?”

“Art school,” you reply, smoothening out your shirtwaist dress. “Art has always been a passion for Bella, mostly music, literature and art history.”

“Must run in the family then,” Connie beams at you, “mama told me both you and your mother are artists too.”

Flattered, you nod eagerly with a smile. “We’d like to say so! It runs within the ladies of the family. I adore fine art like sculpture and art history, but personally, it’s not my passion.”

“Applied arts then, maybe?” Connie offers, growing further interested in the conversation at hand.

“Something like that,” you ponder for a moment, “I prefer painting, like mama. I’ve always loved doing so.”

“Wow,” Connie murmurs to herself, “do you have any inspirations for making art?”

“Maybe not the answer you’re looking for—” you chuckle sheepishly, “but I’d honestly have to say emotions inspire me, and my environment. Even the weather—small things like that. Artists like Van Gogh and Monet also inspire me.”

“That’s amazing,” Connie brushes back a curtain of her dark hair behind her ear. “Mama had actually been telling me earlier about the private art school your mother teaches at and…I was honestly thinking about enrolling to get a feel for myself but I wasn’t entirely too sure.”

“Definitely go for it,” you can scarcely hide the enthusiasm in your tone. “Mama would be more than happy to guide you along the way too. I still attend when I have the time and you could too for passion or for credentials. There’s something for everyone.”

“Absolutely,” your mother chimes into the conversation. “I would love to show you around the school as well, Constanzia. Someday, Gabriella will have to show you her paintings.”

“I would like that very much,” Connie smiles back politely. “I can tell she’s very talented.”

“Thank you,” you blush.

“She’s a nurse by trade, did you know that?” Mama Corleone adds, causing both Theresa and Connie’s eyes to widen in surprise.

“I am,” you admit, noticing how proud your mother looks next to you. “Practice and passion versus hobbies and passion.”

“Wow,” Theresa breathes, “that’s wonderful. How do you like nursing, Gabriella?”

“So far, so good,” you giggle quietly. “I’m fairly new to the practice but I’ve been tending to some injured soldiers lately. It’s practical, and I’m excited to see where the career takes me.”

“A nurse at a baby shower, how nice!” Theresa gushes.

~

With business conversation endlessly continuing in Vito’s office, Sonny remains to be the only one itching to get out of his seat and at least take cigarette break from the stuffy talk he has no need to contribute too.

Then again, Sonny’s more obligated to listen and consider every word coming out of Vito’s mouth wisely due to being his father’s successor and having to expect the same business talks directed towards him someday.

“You can tell Luca,” Vito gestures to Sonny, grabbing his attention. “Give him a call and let him know, since he won’t listen to Tom anyway.”

Chuckles fill the room as Sonny gives a nod, sighing in relief under his breath and beginning to rise from his seat.

You’ve just stepped into the Corleone manor for a quick bathroom break after getting some much needed directions from Connie on how to navigate the estate; unable to stop yourself from gazing and admiring the furniture and fixtures of the stunning foyer.

Remembering Connie’s words on reaching the first bathroom, you begin to head down the hallway when you momentarily stop in your tracks to sneeze.

Covering your nose, you sneeze quietly and sniffle—instantly feeling a momentary sharp prickle in your nostrils.

Blinking, you continue walking forward—albeit slowly—due to being distracted by the small throbbing pain beginning to start in your nose.

“Ugh…” You rub your nose tenderly, eyes widening in surprise to see droplets of blood over your fingers.

A split second passes before you sneeze again, realizing the culprit is the stuffy and somewhat dust filled air in the hallway getting to you.

It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve experienced something similar, but it annoys you to no avail nonetheless.

You cover your nose and continue heading towards where you assume the nearest bathroom is, being careful so as not to spill any blood on the mahogany floorboards or onto your dress.

“Found it yet?!” You hear Connie’s voice echo down from the foyer as she peaks her head inside the estate.

“Yes, don’t worry!” You let out a half muffled call back, spotting the bathroom at the end of the hallway.

“Alright, I’ll wait for you back outside!” Connie shouts, shutting the front door behind her.

The “yes, don’t worry!” you proclaimed out catches Sonny’s interest instantly; the sound of an unfamiliar, yet sweet voice he’s never heard before.

Stunned, Sonny’s unable to focus on anything else and drowns out the chatter and noise from Vito’s office before he exits out into the hallway and shuts the door of Vito’s office behind him.

You sneeze again, whimpering out of annoyance as you feel blood beginning to trickle from your nose.

Following every sound you make, Sonny furrows his brows and walks downstairs and towards the hallway cautiously—both hands in the pockets of his dress trousers.

Only a split second later does Sonny spot you; an unfamiliar woman with your back facing him, wearing a burgundy swing dress with white kitten heels, your hair curled over your shoulders and more peculiarly, how you clutch your hand over your nose.

“Are you alright?” Sonny speaks out to you, coming closer to step into your line of view.

You blink, assuming one of the Corleone family’s bodyguards or security must have heard you sneezing and walking around the manor by now, but when you turn around you can tell just by the posture and amused expression over the stranger’s face that he’s neither.

Sonny and you don’t know one another nor have you seen each other before. You’re not even aware of what the Corleone men’s names are besides Tom and Vito, and you just learned Tom’s today through Theresa.

Blush instantly hits your cheeks as you feel your skin warm at the sight of Sonny. This man is tall with a slim but lean, fit build; sharp shoulders giving Sonny a firm build, his hair in brunette curls and his jawline chiselled with a smirk over his face.

There’s an air of confidence over Sonny and you can already tell with just a glance that he’s someone important.

You assume just by Sonny’s body language across from you that aggressiveness isn’t unheard of from him, but he seems intrigued and even friendly towards you.

“Oh, fine, thank you,” you answer back, still covering your nose. “I didn’t imagine it to be so stuffy down here.”

Sonny chuckles, stepping closer to you before taking one hand out of his pocket to gesture around to the walls. “The walls in this place are older than you and be combined. Don’t mind that.”

You gaze up at Sonny, unable to stop yourself from blushing as he gets closer to you.

You lower your hand away from your face without even realizing it, revealing your bloody nose to Sonny.

Sonny barely reacts to the sight of blood over your face but the look upon his face that he gives you doesn’t appear the way one would gaze at a stranger or someone they’ve met for the first time; the look in Sonny’s eyes may as well tell him he’s known you his whole life.

Sonny wants to ask you if he’s seen you somewhere or if the two of you know each other from some time ago, but something urges him to keep quiet, knowing the answer must be no.

Sonny’s muscles tense from a rush of arousal hitting him at the sight of you, already wildly attracted to you with no intention of denying it.

“Here,” Sonny reaches into the breast pocket of his suit jacket, pulling out a neatly folded, silk handkerchief before handing it to you. “Don’t let it bleed all over you now.”

You hesitate for a moment, not at Sonny’s kindness but the expensive cloth he’s just handed you to wipe your nose with.

A warm, playful smile crosses Sonny’s lips as he reads through your hesitancy. “You’re Gabriella, aren’t you?”

Sonny knows better. An unfamiliar woman in his house with Mr. Giordano visiting? He’s already beginning to figure you out. Luckily, he didn’t assume you’re Bella.

“I am,” blushing, you answer a little out of breath and take the silk handkerchief from Sonny. “Thank you so much…” Your voice trails off as you realize you don’t know this man’s name.

“Santino Corleone,” Sonny introduces himself t you. “But everyone calls me Sonny.”

‘So he IS a Corleone…’

“Sonny,” you repeat, feeling your cheeks stinging with blush. “Thank you.”

Sonny grins, extending out a hand to shake yours as you wipe your nose with your free one. “It’s nice to meet you at last, Miss Giordano.”

As you shake Sonny’s hand back, you feel the same current of arousal rushing through him go through you.

“We haven’t met before, have we?” Sonny finally asks, unable to shake off the belief that he’s more than just familiar with you.

“This would be the first time,” you shake your head, “it’s nice to meet you as well. I’ve yet to meet your whole family yet, but,” you smile shyly, “thank you for having us to celebrate Tom and Theresa.”

“Thanks for coming,” Sonny smirks, “you’ve probably met Theresa already but Tom will be out in a moment and then you can see him too.”

You don’t notice Sonny’s eager eyes gazing up and down at your figure a split second after.

“Were you looking for someone or something?” Sonny asks you.

“Just the bathroom,” you admit, sheepishly. “I…” Your nose has fortunately stopped bleeding, but you look at the silk handkerchief in your hand to see the crimson mess staining through it.

“Don’t worry about it, darling,” Sonny scoffs; he couldn’t care less about the damn handkerchief.

“If you insist,” you begin to carefully fold the handkerchief in the palm of your hand. “It’s just about the whole reason why I came in.”

“Fair enough,” Sonny forces his eyes off of yours, gesturing further down the hallway. “Unless the whole baby shower is waiting for you to get back, I’ll help you out here. Give you a tour of the estate and every bathroom you can find in here.”

“Oh, Mr—” you correct yourself immediately, “Sonny—I would like that very much but I don’t want to interrupt what you’re doing for something like that—”

“Believe me, I insist,” Sonny interrupts, smiling at you. “Guests come first. It’s really no problem. Let me give you a proper tour around here.”

“Alright then,” you accept, smiling back at him. “If it’s no trouble with you, I’d love to.”

“Alright then, Miss Gabriella,” Sonny moves next to you, leading the way out of the hall. “Stay close to me, alright?”

Blushing furiously, you nod back at Sonny who looks over at you behind his shoulder. “I’m with you.”

There’s no doubt about it; had you refused to go along with Santino and returned back to the baby shower or simply didn’t choose to communicate or see Sonny again after today, of course your life would be different. Either way, it would have changed.

What would you know now in this fleeting moment that couldn’t possibly mean anything else to you, trusting in this influential man son to a powerful Don that you just met, feeling as if he’s suddenly wanted to treat you as someone else in his home other than a guest?

If anyone asked years from now, you would tell them the truth. Yes, you would follow Santino Corleone to the ends of the earth, to hell if you had to and beyond that to meet him in whatever life awaited you next.

This is just the beginning of what destiny has spelled out for you side to side with a man like Santino Corleone.

But for now, you follow Sonny in hopes you’ll get to know this kind stranger and the Corleone family better, because your heart is bound to give in sooner rather than later.

[melis-writes]

Mafia Wife [Sonny Corleone x Reader Multichapter, 18+ Smut] Chapter Masterlist.

A masterlist of all currently posted chapters both up on AO3 (Archive of Our Own) and here on Tumblr. Like/save the post to stay updated!

18+, explicit smut read. All specific warnings available on AO3. Sexy Sonny Corleone gifs only available on Tumblr chapter uploads.

“The underboss’s wife”; that’s who you are, and the whispers of enemies, family and colleagues alike know it too. You’re no stranger to the underworld of crime surrounding you including the one run by the Corleone family’s underboss; Santino Corleone. The streets run red with blood and brutality under Santino’s influence but it’s Santino who feels hit by the thunderbolt at the very sight of you—pushing away his womanizing and notorious unfaithfulness. You unexpectedly find yourself in a position of power balancing your marriage with the fate of the Corleone’s family’s future whether it be through Santino’s infamous brutality or the love he finds amidst the man he claims to be.

Chapter 1 – La Famiglia Giordano [AO3] / [Tumblr].

Chapter 2 – By Chance and By Fate [AO3] / [Tumblr].

[melis-writes]

"Mafia Wife" Fanfic Tagslist ❤️‍🔥

Please ONLY interact with this post (like, reblog or reply to this) if you’d like to be added to the tagslist of my newest, upcoming Sonny Corleone x Reader smut fic, "Mafia Wife"! 💓

“The underboss’s wife”; that’s who you are, and the whispers of enemies, family and colleagues alike know it too. You’re no stranger to the underworld of crime surrounding you including the one run by the Corleone family’s underboss; Santino Corleone. The streets run red with blood and brutality under Santino’s influence but it’s Santino who feels hit by the thunderbolt at the very sight of you—pushing away his womanizing and notorious unfaithfulness. You unexpectedly find yourself in a position of power balancing your marriage with the fate of the Corleone’s family’s future whether it be through Santino’s infamous brutality or the love he finds amidst the man he claims to be.

The first chapter will be coming soon! Stay tuned!! 🤞🏻💖

[melis-writes]

“I’m gonna get you pregnant again—” Sonny roams one hand down to your small, growing baby bump, never slowing down in the pace of his thrusting. “And again—and again—do you hear me?”

And every year after that again and again… 🫠🫠

Again.

“I’m gonna get you pregnant again—” Sonny speaks through hot breaths, letting his free hand roam over your small, growing baby bump. “And again—and again—do you hear me?”

“Y-yes! S-Sonny—” A loud moan escapes your lips as you rock your hips back against his. “Yes!”

“Every single year,” Sonny pants, giving both of your thighs a harsh smack before keeping them around his waist. “I want you fucking filled with my seed.”

“Mm!” You squeal out in pleasure—feeling your eyes prickle with tears from the euphoric sensations washing over your body again and again like shockwaves.

“I’m gonna have you like this—” Sonny leans down with a deep groan, pressing his forehead against yours. “Make you mine again.”

“I a-am,” you giggle breathily, catching Sonny’s lips in a deep, crushing kiss.

Moaning back in your mouth, Sonny doesn’t relent with his ruthless thrusting; keeping you pinned down upon the bed in a perfect bent missionary position.

With one hand wrapped around Sonny’s shoulder and the other scratching down his back, you roll your eyes back upon the rush of your orgasm beginning to approach.

“I’m gonna cum, baby,” Sonny grunts in your ear, “gonna cum in that sweet pussy of yours again—fuck,”

"D-do it, do it, do it, p-please!" Barely able to get another word out, you lock your thighs around his waist and brace for the impact of your heavenly orgasm to wash out of you.

[melis-writes]

… what about some Victonny smut where Victoria calls Sonny daddy 👀👀👀

Out of all the Corleone men, I only see Sonny liking being called “daddy”, I’m not gonna lie... 👀😳

'Daddy'.

“O-Oh my God…” You whine out against the pillow to muffle out your moans, clenching onto the bedsheets with all your remaining strength.

“You take it so good, baby,” Sonny breathes against your back; one hand cupped over your ass and the other arching your back in a face down, ass up doggy style position. “So fucking good.”

You curl your toes from the sensation of pleasure mixing with the pressure of all ten inches of Sonny’s cock thrusting into your pussy—stretching you and fucking you deep.

“More, more…” You squeeze your eyes shut, beginning to move your hips back to meet Sonny’s slow rhythm.

“Only if you promise you’re going to be a good girl this time,” Sonny gives your ass a playful smack, “or I won’t give you what you want.”

“Doubt you can hold back,” you giggle breathily, looking back at Sonny over your shoulder.

“Don’t tempt me, sugar,” Sonny chuckles, licking over his lips before leaning over and kissing you sloppily over the mouth. “I wanna make a mess inside that sweet pussy.”

“All yours, daddy,” you moan softly in Sonny’s mouth as he begins to pick up his pace, thrusting into you faster.

“Who does this pussy belong to?” Sonny tugs a fistful of your hair, arching your back again as he begins to ram his cock into your pussy.

“Yours, daddy, y-yours!” You squeal out, letting moan after moan escape your lips.

[melis-writes]

Hello sweet Melis! I have a prompt idea for Sonny x Reader 🤭🤭🤭 If it's okay with you, can you please write a sexual scene where reader is very shy and insecure about her body, but Sonny comforts her and they end up having soft romantic sex?👉👈 Yes I'm a big sucker for love and romance! 😭Love you very much and send you lots of kisses 😘😘😘😘😚😚😚😚😚😚

But of course!! 😋❤️ My first Sonny x Reader request and I’d be more than happy to write it! Prepare for lots of fluff and of course, soft and loving sex. 🥵 Thank you for the request, lovely!! Finally got around to writing this sweet piece at long last. Lots of love and kisses right back at you!! ❤️❤️❤️

Laying over the scarlet, silk bedsheets with only the duvet half sprawled over your half-naked body, you gaze up at Sonny who slowly paces around the bedroom shirtless—smoking a cigarette.

“Well, baby, ya got your wish,” a grin spreads across Sonny’s lips as he blows out smoke around him. “Just you and me tonight, like we planned.”

“With the lights off this time too, maybe?” You blush, resting your chin over your first.

“Lights off?” Sonny raises a brow, moving towards the ashtray on the end-table next to the bed. “Feelin’ shy, baby?”

“Maybe,” you nibble on the corner of your lip, making eye contact with Sonny.

Sonny scrunches up his cigarette in the ashtray, ensuring its put out as he keeps his eyes over you. “Shy, huh? Well…” Straightening his posture, Sonny continues to gaze at you for a moment curiously. “It’s okay if you don’t wanna, baby—”

“It’s not that, baby,” you shake your head. “You know how much I’ve missed you this week, and you know if it was up to me we’d never get out of this room.”

“Right,” Sonny chuckles, beginning to unbuckle his leather belt. “But shy… Now that’s interesting.”

“How so?” Barely realizing it yourself, you pull the blanket further up your breasts to conceal yourself.

“Because…” Sonny moves closer towards the bed, throwing off his belt and letting it drop to the floor. “You and I both know you’re not shy, sweetheart. So what’s the matter? Hmm? Lights off and all?”

“Can you blame me?” You mumble under your breath.

“What?” Sonny furrows his brows in confusion, kneeling onto the bed, but it’s the movement of your hands clutching the blanket over your body and hiding yourself that gives it all away to him.

“I don’t know,” you frown back at Sonny. “It’s like… Sometimes I feel as if I haven’t come to terms with myself and I don’t know how to or anything. I barely want to see myself like this, I’m just…”

Your voice fades away as you lose your train of thought, noticing the concern growing in Sonny’s eyes as he listens to you.

“Nah, baby, no. Come on, no.” Sonny shakes his head, pulling you into his embrace on his side of the bed. “C’mere, sweetheart. Yeah, come ‘ere.”

“I feel gross, Sonny,” you admit, holding back your tears as you hug onto his chest. “I don’t know, it’s like I’m not good enough and—”

“Hey,” Sonny places his finger over your bottom lip, staring at you. “No, we ain’t gonna say shit like that. You and I both know it’s not true. It’s not.”

You shyly gaze away, remaining quiet as Sonny rubs up and down your back tenderly to comfort you.

“I know my woman like the back of my hand,” Sonny gives your waist a light squeeze. “And I have no idea what the hell you’re going on about. You’re beautiful, baby.”

Sonny caresses the side of your face with the back of his hand. “And I mean it. You’ve no idea how beautiful you are.  What, you wanna be like everyone else?” He raises his brows. “’Cause you’re the most unique woman I ever met—I don’t want anyone else but you, and that’s including all that you are and that you have.”

“Sonny…” The blush on your cheeks sting and intensify, becoming apparent to Sonny.

“I’m serious, baby,” Sonny steals a sloppy kiss from your lips. “You’re fine as hell, fuckin’ beautiful. Just beautiful.” He leans his head down, pecking little kisses over your collarbones. “Mm, all of you from head to toe, damn.”

You throw your head back, giggling from the sensation of Sonny’s warm lips tickling over your skin. “If you say so.”

“I damn do,” Sonny reaffirms, slowly beginning to inch the blanket off of your body. “This is all I wanna come home to, nothin’ else. You…” Sonny presses his body against yours as you let out a soft groan. “And all of you and your beauty, baby.”

“How do you do that?” You whisper, wrapping your arms around Sonny’s shoulders. “Just…” A streak of shyness hits you again as you form your next words, “comfort me, make me feel like I’m home and—”

Sonny cuts off your sentence by sealing a kiss over your lips; not one fueled by sexual desire and lust, but pure passion and love towards you.

“Because I love you,” Sonny breathes as he parts away from the kiss. “And you’re my only girl. Nothin’ in the world is gonna change that. Every single part of you…” Sonny tosses off the blanket from your body, letting his firm hands roam over your breast. “Is fuckin’ beautiful, baby. All of you.”

You breath out Sonny’s name, lost in the embrace of your lover as one kiss leads to another—deepening and growing with desire.

Unable to get enough of one another, you can feel all your insecurities and shyness easily melt away in Sonny’s embrace—in belief of his reassuring, loving words.

There isn’t a part of your body Sonny wouldn’t worship—absolutely adore and kiss all over.

Insistent on both teasing and pleasing you, Sonny’s body hovers over top of yours as he throws off his trousers and boxer briefs—his lips still colliding with yours.

Your hand wraps around Sonny’s back while the other roams through his brunette curls, tugging gently as you spread your legs as wide as you can and keep them wrapped around your lover’s waist.

“I love you, baby,” Sonny mumbles against your lips before kissing them again and again, wanting nothing more than to get lost in you.

“I love you too,” you moan out, feeling Sonny slowly begin to enter you. “Oh, please…”

“Shit,” you hear Sonny groan quietly to himself, pushing his cock inside of you inch by inch.

You roll your eyes back in pleasure, burying your face in Sonny’s shoulder as he begins to slowly pace himself in and out of you with deep thrusts snapping back into your hips.

“C’mere, c’mere—” Sonny trails wet kisses along the side of your neck, gripping your hips gently to keep himself angled inside of you.

“Ohhh!” You cry out, feeling your thighs tingle against Sonny’s waist as his cock thrusts close to your G-Spot.

“Ahh, right there, huh baby?” You can feel Sonny smirking against your skin as he leans in closer, pressing his forehead against yours. “You like that?”

“Oh God, yes,” you whimper, nodding back at him frantically.

“You really—” Sonny speaks inbetween his thrusts, “are fucking perfect, you know that, baby? Mm, fuck, you feel so good.”

“M-more, more—” You curl your toes, unable to stop your moans from getting louder with each slow, loving thrust inside of you.

Amidst both of your moans and groans, the only thing you can hear are your bodies against the silky bedsheets wrinkling underneath you two and the slight squeaking of the mattress as your love making session with Sonny grows more feverish.

[melis-writes]

Ok this is an interesting request for you

What if Victoria and Sonny had an affair early on after meeting each other and her marrying Michael? There was an instant connection and attraction between them and Sonny gets her pregnant but Michael thinks he’s the father of the twins 🙊

Sonny has had twins before… he does it to Victoria this time around 🔥

Oh… Wow. 👀 What an AU we have over here. 😅😅 Sonny’s the father of Niccolo and Verona!! The timing just has to be impeccable here. 😳

“Do you accept, Victoria? Will you marry Michael Corleone?”

“I do accept.”

‘What else could I have said?’ After all this time, your gaze fell upon the gold wedding band adorning Sandra’s ring upon her finger which not only served as a reminder that what you had with Sonny could only be an affair, but that it was indeed over.

Fate did not align in the beginning for you to meet a man like Michael Corleone—not while he was considered a “civilian” in the “family business” and away at war with a lover, Kay, awaiting his return.

The only Corleone you knew was Santino; the eldest, brash, hot-headed without the need to pretend to be a tough guy but the one who instantly ensnared you.

Then again, Sonny could easily say the same. You only ever felt such an instant connection like that in the presence of one another after all.

“Where do you think this will all go?” You murmured over your lover’s chest, snuggled up after making love to one another.

“Anywhere it needs to,” Sonny answered you; his hands stroking through your silky hair. “You know I’m planning on it.”

Your eyes widened as you tilted your head to look up at Sonny with surprise.

He nodded back at you and pressed a gentle kiss upon your forehead. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with a woman I don’t love, Vic. I’m going to make us happen, I just need more time.”

You understood and you didn’t let impatience consume you, but Michael’s own actions involving himself into the criminal underworld of his family’s affairs directly paved the path for your engagement to him instead.

From loving gazes to small talk, you cherished every moment you could spend with Sonny—especially alone—when your family visited or hosted the Corleones.

None other than Sonny and yourself noticed the instant attraction and chemistry that sparked between the two of you, but there was no possibility to confess your love for Sonny and the nature of your affair when he was still a married man.

“I only—” Sonny spoke between feverish kisses over your lips, “want you.”

“Show me,” you whispered, teasing him as you pressed your naked body up against Sonny’s. “Show me again.”

How could you have known your father’s intentions of making peace with the Corleones amidst such a time of turmoil and tension come through marriage?

‘I could have said no.’

“Could get you pregnant this time, y’know,” Sonny groaned softly against the side of your neck.

“D-doesn’t matter,” you moaned back and dug your nails into Sonny’s back as his thrusts grew deeper and more forceful.

Smirking against your skin, Sonny tilted your chin down to face him—letting his thumb run down your bottom lip as he gazed into your eyes. “I’d run away with you in a heartbeat, baby.”

Despite all the private intimacy you and Sonny shared with an intent on safe sex, the neither of you cared about being too cautious and entirely preventing pregnancy.

It was pregnancy after all keeping you from truly being with the man you loved, and Sonny didn’t care how it looked either.

If both of you disappeared, it would be easy for both of your families to put two and two together thus disgracing your names and embroiling everyone into a scandal, but Sonny was also more than willing to fake his own death and wait for you in another state.

Bearing the children of the man you adore and being able to spend eternity with him would be worth the thrill, the risk and everything inbetween.

‘But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I wanted to say ‘yes’ to Michael and not just because I couldn’t say ‘yes’ to Sonny.’

Although what you felt for Sonny and how you yearned for him was simply uncomparable to anyone or anything else, there was also a different kind of longing and connection you felt for Michael Corleone when you first met him.

You were pregnant for barely ten days when you met Michael, and blissfully unaware for the time being so yourself, you agreed to marry the man you could have.

Nothing such as divorcing Sandra for you or running off with some silly idea could ever come to fruition now; there was expectation placed upon you and Michael but it only had meaning because you both gave it so.

“I’m glad, darling,” Michael murmured as he held both of your hands in his; his eyes gazing over your stomach. “We’ll be starting a family together—just you and I.”

Naturally both Michael and his family were all the more pleased when you “immediately” got pregnant, but the news couldn’t fool Sonny let alone you.

You knew you must have conceived shortly before you and Michael got married, but there was absolutely no suspicion or questions asked about the revelation of your pregnancy a few days after your wedding night.

You and Sonny both knew you were carrying his twins inside of you, just as Sandra carried Sonny’s two twin girls.

It wasn’t that you had the heart to tell Michael or that you felt ashamed and guilty; you were far removed from such feelings because you knew you’d rather be bearing Sonny’s children than Michael’s.

Michael, completely oblivious that he wasn’t the father of the little baby twins he held in his arms, was just as unaware that his wife was forever in love with another man—his own older brother.

[melis-writes]

“I know you want me more than Michael.” 🥵🔥

Oh... 😶❤️‍🔥 Victonny strikes again. 🥴 Extreme smut warning underneath the cut!! 🥵

Confess Your Lust.

“I know you want me more than Michael,” Sonny breathes hotly against your neck, deepening the pace of his thrusts.

“Mm!” You bite down hard on your lip, attempting to muffle out moan after moan as Sonny’s cock slicks in you again and again, brushing up against your weak spot.

“Say it,” Sonny grazes his teeth against your skin, leaving a sloppy kiss over it. “Say it.”

“I—Ohhhhh!” You curl your toes, attempting to keep your ankles balanced over Sonny’s shoulders as he has you in the perfect constricted position to angle his cock upwards. “I want—”

“You fuck like you do,” Sonny chuckles breathily, burying his face inbetween your breasts. “Your pussy says you do.”

“I want y-you, you—I want you more—” out of breath from the rough and quickened pace of thrusting, your breasts jiggle against Sonny’s face as you grip onto his arms for balance.

“Fuck yes, fuck yes,” Sonny hisses, catching your nipple in his mouth and only continuing to pound your pussy.

“I want you more than Michael—” You whimper out, your voice threatening to break.

“I wanna hear you say that again and again,” Sonny tilts your chin down to face him, crushing his lips over yours in a wet, full mouthed kiss. “When I cum in you and you lose track, what do you say, hmm?”

“I love your cum, I l-love your cum—” You swallow hard, hungrily kissing Sonny back.

“You like being filled up with my cum, don’t you?” Sonny squeezes your face, giving it a little shake. “Like fucking walking around dripping with my seed?”

“Y-YES!” You shriek, tightly wrapping your legs around Sonny’s shoulders. “M-My God!”

“You fuck so good, you know that?” Sonny slaps your ass harshly, pulling away momentarily to grin down at the mess beneath you both.

One after another, loads of Sonny’s cum has oozed out of your pussy with each thrust and orgasm—seeping down your inner thighs and smearing over your asshole.

“You love taking it like a good girl—” Sonny takes some of his cum off your ass, popping his finger into your mouth. “Taste it, baby. Yeah, taste it.”

You suck onto Sonny’s index finger greedily, licking off all his cum as his cock continues to slosh in and out of your pussy one thrust at a time.

“More, more,” you dig your nails into Sonny’s arms, pouting. “I want you more—I want you to fuck me more!”

[melis-writes]

Request: Halloween SINspired

There’s a Halloween party at Lake Tahoe with tons of people, tons of guests, tons of adults and kids.

Victoria looks aaaamazing in her costume and as Michael and everyone else is extremely busy, having fun… she sneaks away with Sonny, who looks hot in his costume too… and they sneak off to have a quickie or two in a less busy area maybe in a bathroom or closet… its risqué yes but Sonny and Victoria know they need each other ASAP 🔥😈

Luckily nobody finds them or hears them or notices they’re gone

Halloween costume party at Lake Tahoe AND some Victonny!! Playful, sexy and fun all in one prompt. 😏🥵

Halloween at the Lake Tahoe compound may just as well be the one and only celebration of the year that gets its worth of fun and excitement hosted by the Corleone family.

More so a time of enjoyment and insistence from just about everyone except for Vito whom could care less, but is grateful nonetheless for the time spent with his grandchildren having fun and Michael, whose always been completely against the idea of a Halloween party.

With the party having started just at sundown, a fireworks show is planned at midnight, colorful Halloween themed refreshments are served all night and a buffet table filled with various selections of cakes, baked treats, pastries and candy line up the compound’s gazebo.

Little twinkling orange and white lights illuminate walkways and fenced areas for guests to get around the compound safely and security is diligent at every entrance, gate and exit of the compound for the evening.

All are invited without just an exclusivity for adults with the one time the children are allowed to stay up past midnight frolicking around in excitement with their costumes on, trick or treating from the adults who carry a pumpkin shaped satchel filled with chocolates and candies.

“Daddy, you could have been Count Dracula!” Verona pouts, holding a fake pair of fangs in her hand.

Michael, having zero interest in the party let alone wearing a costume hasn’t dressed up or made himself feel like he’s at a party; rather, Michael’s dressed in a three piece black suit and coming to terms with all the socialization he’ll have to make with all the guests approaching him every now and then.

Michael glances at the fake fangs in his daughters hand, shaking his head. “I think they’d look better on you.”

“On me?” Verona gasps, waving her star shaped wand around, “but I’m a magical fairy, I can’t have fangs!”

“You could be a magical fairy with fangs!” Niccolo adds, skipping up to his father and sister. “Lots of fairies around here, but how many of them have fangs?”

“Your brother has a point,” Michael chuckles quietly, crossing his arms.

“Hmm,” Verona peeks curiously at the fangs in her hand, shrugging her shoulders. “I guess so! I could be a spooky fairy!”

Michael’s eyes dart cautiously over the crowds around him, unable to spot you from any table or gathering. “Have you two seen your mother?”

“I’m right here, baby,” you blush, approaching the twins and Michael from behind. “Just thought my makeup needed a little bit of a touch up to get into the witchy look.”

Michael turns around to face you with the twins; raising his brows in surprise at the level of detail and dedication put into your witch costume.

Your dress is a dark violet witch costume complete with a pointy velvet hat and a mini dress with the back tattered and longer than the front.

Your costume’s sleeves are flared and have a black lace cobweb shape while a sexy peek of your cleavage covered by the same lace detailing.

With dark plum covered makeup, mascara and a burgundy lipstick over your lips, you’ve fit right into the role of a sexy, mystical witch for tonight’s Halloween party.

“Wow, mama!” Verona giggles excitedly, “the prettiest witch ever!”

“I like your costume, mama!” Niccolo beams, dressed as a pirate himself.

“Why thank you, honey,” you wink, extending out your arms. “So, what do you think?”

“I can say that’s the most detail on a costume I’ve seen tonight,” Michael comments, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Very…witchy.”

You giggle, hugging his arm. “If this surprises you, wait until you see Sandra. She’s dressed as a black cat.”

“I’ll pass,” Michael murmurs, “I thought she’d at least match with Sonny but he’s caused all of us enough embarrassment for tonight.”

“Oh?” Your eyes widen in surprise. “How so?”

Verona and Niccolo giggle amidst one another. “Uncle Sonny’s a werewolf, mama.”

“A werewolf? Soooo…” You squint your eyes, looking back towards your family’s reserved table before spotting a frustrated Sandra with her arms crossed lecturing Sonny.

Dressed as a werewolf, Sonny’s practically topless—only wearing a tattered shirt ripped with claw marks on it and fur covered trousers to make up for the rest.

“Oh,” the blush over your cheeks intensifies. “I see what you mean now. Also doesn’t really match with Sandra’s costume, does it?”

Michael rolls his eyes, “I don’t care about that. Regardless, I’ll be with my father and the others at the far end table if you need me, darling.”

“Sure thing, honey,” you peck a kiss over Michael’s lips before turning to the twins. “No wandering off too far you two, alright?”

“Okay, mama!”

“Good,” you laugh softly. “I’ll go check up on the cat and the werewolf to see if everything’s alright.”

Just as you turn and slip past the crowds in front you, by the time you peek up your head to see one of the family tables and spot Sonny and Sandra, you notice only Sonny stands alone with an old fashioned cocktail in his hand and a very amused smirk over his lips.

“Wow, rough night?” You tease, gesturing to Sonny’s torn top.

“Something like that,” Sonny grins at you, glancing at you from head to toe. “Sexy witch decided to finally come around, huh?”

“You could make it a little less obvious, you know,” you speak back to Sonny in a playful tone, adjusting your witch hat. “People will start talking and thinking the werewolf has something for the witch.”

“Really?” Sonny chuckles, gesturing around him. “All I’m seeing are people stuffing their faces with cake and alcohol. The estates are off limits, obviously.”

“Mhmm,” you confirm, “I was just getting ready in the bathroom a minute ago.”

“I assumed so,” Sonny caresses your chin, “too bad. I’ve been thinking about nothing but fucking that sweet mouth of yours all night and you’ve put all that trouble into your makeup.”

Your eyes widen a little as your cheeks sting, flaring with blush. “Thinking of making a mess?”

“I’ll keep it in you if you don’t let too much ooze down those pretty thighs of yours,” Sonny smirks wryly. “I think I’ll go use the bathroom in the family estate now. Care to join me?”

Sonny doesn’t wait for your response, but the inviting, devilish look in his eyes says it all to you.

Standing by, you let Sonny walk a few meters passed you before you begin to follow, trying to make it look as if you’re going somewhere else in case a pair of curious eyes spots the two of you leaving the party.

With the crowds, guests and Michael seemingly busy enough indulged in conversation, drinks and meals, you and Sonny carefully sneak off to the family estate which is all but completely empty with the exception of the serving staff in the kitchen.

“You know me so well,” you whisper, taking the lead and walking towards the most secluded bathroom you can think of.

“Didn’t think you’d want me again so soon in one night but here you are,” Sonny teases, quietly following you into the bathroom.

“We can make it the second quickie of the night, huh?” You lean your back against the bathroom counter as Sonny locks the door behind him. “Before I rip off what’s left of your shirt.”

“Be my guest,” Sonny hisses, squeezing his hands over your ass tightly. “You know there’s nothing I’d love more than letting you get back to the party a cum drenched mess.”

“That’s fine,” you breath, wrapping your arms around Sonny’s neck as he hoists you up onto the bathroom counter. “I can still feel your cum from earlier in me. I need more.”

“Slutty little witch,” Sonny hikes up your costume above your waist, pushing your panties to the side. “Still dripping wet, aren’t you?”

“You’ve no idea,” you moan against Sonny’s neck as his fingers graze over your dewy clit. “I need this right now.”

“Never gonna get used to hearing that,” Sonny licks over his lips, hearing how your wet pussy lips spread apart as he slowly begins to push his cock into you. “Be a good girl and stay quiet, eh?”

“Mmhmm—” Nodding weakly, you bury your face into Sonny’s shoulder as he thrusts every inch of his thick, erect cock inside of you relatively with ease.

Still turned on and tingling with arousal from earlier, you angle your thighs over Sonny’s shoulder and keep your back pressed up against the wall—being fucked in a perfectly constricted position on the bathroom counter.

With not a single soul around to hear or even notice you and Sonny having disappeared from the party and gone back into the estate at the same time, the real party begins between the two of you.

Sneaking away for the second time in the evening, Sonny’s warm cock fills your pussy again to satisfy your every sinful need and desire this Halloween.

Your pussy’s wetness easily lubricates Sonny’s cock, and the sound of your pussy gushing against his shaft with each thrust only furthers your arousal.

Sonny keeps his grunts and groans as quiet and to himself as possible, focused on jerking his hips back and forth into you at the quickest, sloppiest pace he can keep.

Your ankles shake over Sonny’s shoulders as you silence out all your moans against Sonny’s shoulders; only the sound of your diamond anklet tinkling can be heard inbetween skin slapping against skin.

“Fuck, baby,” you hear Sonny whisper in your ear, clutching onto your thighs. “I’m gonna fill you up so good—so fucking good.”

Wondering just how much longer he’ll have to bear this party, Michael glances down at his watch and frowns, trying to keep himself occupied in dull small talk at the table and count down the time that you and Sonny savour with each passing second.

“Only I fuck and fill this cunt so good, don’t I?” Sonny licks over your lips, ramming into your pussy as roughly as he can.

“Oh God, yes!” Your voice quivers as you attempt to keep it down.

“Who does this pussy belong to?” Sonny squeezes your face, pressing his forehead up against yours.

“Y-you,” you moan back, whimpering uncontrollably. “Y-you!”

[melis-writes]

Moth to Flame (Part II) [Michael Corleone x Reader Series, 18+ Smut] Chapter 41 – The Calm Before the Storm.

Read on AO3 / Read Chapter 40 / Chapter Masterlist. / Fic Playlist.

18+, explicit smut read.

"Sonny’s excuse is that you let him and it’s disgusting. I don’t know how you deal with it." / “He questioned your actions and integrity, but I did not."

Your return back home to Lake Tahoe isn't marked without grudges, resent and guilt from others that you may have already set aside. What was once seeing as attention seeking, insignificant behavior threatens to create a rift between marriage but the truth is yet to be revealed. You want nothing more than to move on with your life, away from your mother and Fredo's death and any possibility increased tensions from rivalling mafia families but from what you believed was done for everybody's good has already sealed your fate.

[WARNINGS]: Mentions & themes of prostitution / Strip teasing / Heavy fluff / Touching & kissing / Nipple play & teasing.

[AUTHOR'S NOTE]: A new chapter of Moth to Flame is finally here!! 😭❤️ I can't believe it's been about ~2 months since I last updated?! Since I'm focused on fic uploads/writing only at the moment, I'm looking forward to a lot more frequent and back to back updates for you guys. 🥴 Better late than never! Michael and Victoria's story continues, or should I say in this chapter that also means Sonny and Sandra's? 👀 Drama, drama, drama...! It was definitely coming, and now it's going to build into something spiralling completely out of control. We need to focus on baby Vincent and the twins' cuteness above all. 😂😍

1956. Your name is Victoria Ferrari Corleone, and you’re the wife of the most powerful mobster in North America–Michael Corleone. A lifestyle of crime and secrecy is all you've known and ever wanted to know, complimenting the cruelty of Michael Corleone's influence in the United States. With your enemies fallen before you and all loose ends tied up, you continue your life and marriage with the Corleone family while refusing to look back on your past. Yet it's the skeletons in your closet that a shine a light on revealing you're a true mafiosa. Ensnared in the shadows just as much as Michael is, you find yourself betrayed by the unexpected with all of your secrets ready to spill–especially ones you've hidden from Michael. With more than one pair of eyes watching your every move, you find yourself trapped amidst potential scandals and a familiar, lovesick secret admirer adamant on removing Michael out of the picture to have you all to himself. Like a moth to a flame, you've reached the point of no return and the light that breaks down the darkness threatens to take you next.

[ Lake Tahoe Compound, 7:00 AM ]

From the moment you came to rest your head upon your pillow and snuggle up in your own bed next to your husband at home, every thought, concern, and memory of what occurred in Las Vegas has left not only yours but Michael’s mind as well.

From a well-deserved good night’s sleep in pure relaxation, Michael and you have awoken shortly before seven in the morning to start your day and spend it with the family—taking a break from traveling and business.

“Okay, baby,” you run your hands through your hair gently to smoothen it down, moving towards the shower. “I’m going to wake up the children and get them ready for breakfast.”

Michael pulls back the shower curtain to peek his head out; his soaked hair sticking to his temples and droplets of water dribbling down from his lips and chin. “Alright, darling.”

You blush, leaning over and pecking a kiss over Michael’s wet lips. “I’ll see you downstairs in a minute.”

Just from leaning over towards the hot shower, Michael’s having, you can already feel the warm steam from the running water mixing in with the heavenly scent of Michael’s body surrounding you with that kiss.

Michael prefers to shower first thing in the morning on his days off whereas if he has business to tend to or places to be, he’ll do so at the end of his day like you.

It may be a day off for both of you, but the same doesn’t apply to the twins who have half a day’s worth of tutoring and studying awaiting them.

As you walk out of your bedroom and down the hallway, you step into the nursery room to check on baby Vincent first thing.

As you and Esther have left it, the nursery door remains open so you can both easily hear Vincent’s crying or stirring from his sleep.

Taking a quick look in, you see baby Vincent still curled up in his crib sleeping soundly; bringing a smile to your lips.

Moving a bit further down the hallway, you quietly open the door to Niccolo and Verona’s bedrooms side by side with one another before stepping into each one and gently nudging the children’s shoulders before giving them a kiss on the cheek.

“Niccolo, Verona, good morning. It’s time to wake up, you two!”

“Mmmmm…” Verona squirms in her bed, stretching out her arms. “I’m…awake.”

“Sleepy,” Niccolo groans back from his room, sitting up in his bed. “It’s morning already?”

“It is,” you chuckle, stepping back out into the hallway. “Good morning to both of you.”

“Where’s daddy?” Verona pulls herself out of bed, rubbing her eyes.

“He’s showering right now but will join us for breakfast soon,” you gesture to the two as they put on their slippers. “Come on, honey. Let’s get you two washed up and ready to start the day. I think your little brother is…” You squint your eyes, peeking into the nursery room again. “Still asleep.”

“Vincent is very sleepy,” Verona giggles, skipping to the estate’s second bathroom with her brother.

“I say that too and then the next moment, he’s suddenly awake and staring at us,” you laugh to yourself, following the twins.

“Minty fresh,” Verona picks up her toothbrush with Niccolo, smearing a modest amount of toothpaste over it before handing it to her brother and staying by the sink.

“Mhmm,” you pick up Verona’s hairbrush, standing behind her. “And how would you like your hair styled today, sweetie? Any ideas?”

“I really like the pigtails we did last week, mama,” Verona beams, beginning to brush her teeth. “With the red ribbons!”

“Ooh, of course,” you step back to open one of the bathroom cabinets, taking two silky, red ribbon ties and slipping them over your wrist. “Pigtails for today it is.”

“Mama, are you gonna tell us about your trip?” Niccolo asks curiously, wetting his toothbrush.

“Ya, like—” Verona covers her toothpaste-filled mouth, “if it’s really fun flying on an airplane!”

“I never thought about it that way,” you smile at the two, styling through Verona’s hair. “Honestly, I haven’t really been thinking of the trip. It wasn’t anything for fun, after all, otherwise, we would have taken you too.”

“Yeah,” Niccolo agrees, looking at himself in the mirror as he begins to brush his teeth. “Daddy had work.”

“And I always get sleepy and tired on plane rides, even if where we’re going isn’t too far away,” you admit sheepishly, tying up one ponytail over Verona’s hair.

“Mama gets too cozy,” Verona laughs, “I would too! Las Vegas is close to home, right mama?”

“It is,” you nod back, “so it wasn’t too bad to travel there. Your father and I just wanted to get home as soon as we could.”

“Why, mama?” Verona continues asking.

You pause for a moment, continuing to brush through her hair. “Because it was dull and boring, all for work and business for your daddy. We had to get it done though, but I won’t say I had fun.”

“That’s fair, mama,” Niccolo agrees. “Maybe it’ll be fun if we come.”

“Maybe,” you tie up the second pigtail over Verona’s hair. “You guys want to go on a vacation soon?”

“Soon, yes!” Verona exclaims, moving to rinse out her mouth by the sink.

“We absolutely will,” you take out a tin of hair gel from the cabinet, moving to style and brush through Niccolo’s hair next. “Your daddy and I were thinking of it. I can’t remember the last time we took you guys to Sicily, you know. You were both just little babies.”

“Yes, please!” Verona giggles through rinsing her mouth. 

“I wanna go too,” Niccolo chimes in, “Grandma and Grandpa always talk about Sicily.”

“You won’t have to wait too long then,” you plant a kiss over Niccolo’s head before combing through his hair. “Your daddy wants to go just as much as we all do, and maybe you guys can remind him today too, hmm?”

“I will for sure,” Verona turns off the tap, grabbing a face towel. “I wanna go and visit!”

“Me too,” Niccolo slowly moves towards the sink so you can continue styling the gel carefully through his hair while he rinses his mouth out. “We all go with Daddy!”

“He’ll be downstairs in just a minute,” you glance out towards the hallway, “let’s both get you dressed so we can meet Daddy downstairs.”

~

Turning off the water, Michael pulls back the shower curtain and gives out a deep breath—letting the hot steam of the shower surround him as he squeezes out the excess water from his hair.

Michael rakes a hand through his wet hair, slicking it away from his face before he steps out of the shower and reaches to grab a body towel.

Wrapping the towel around his waist securely, Michael takes a separate towel to ruffle through his hair as he approaches the foggy sink.

Wiping his hand over the mirror to clear it, Michael notices a bit of his stubble is growing through and opens the cabinet behind the bathroom mirror to grab his razor and a tube of shaving cream.

Standing in front of the sink, Michael begins to modestly lather shaving cream over his cheeks and jawline, faintly being able to hear the sound of you and the children heading downstairs for breakfast.

Carefully yet in swift, quick motions, Michael shaves without a single nick or cut over his skin; rinsing off his face before applying a cooling aftershave balm.

Michael continues to press the towel down through his hair thoroughly to soak up as much moisture as he can before he combs through it neatly and reaches for his tin of hair gel.

Barely being able to tell that his hair is still damp, Michael begins to thoroughly apply the gel and slick his hair back from the middle; keeping it neat without a single strand loose and out of place.

Michael then makes his way into the bedroom, drying himself off with his towel before picking out a pair of grey briefs, a white dress shirt you ironed for Michael the other day with a pair of black slacks, a matching waistcoat, white socks, and a tie. 

Setting aside his suit jacket, Michael doesn't intend to wear it in the comfort of his own home knowing he won't have business or guests to entertain today—no exceptions regardless of how "urgent" others may consider it to be, but Michael's also never been lazy or sloppy when it comes to his choice of attire no matter the occasion or time.

Spraying cologne over his neck and collarbone, Michael walks out of the bedroom and shuts the door behind him, looking forward to spending the entirety of his day with his family and only his family; perhaps limited in interaction with Sonny for now as Michael's internal annoyance and irritation still cool.

Michael especially wishes to spend the vast majority of his time with you and the children more than anything else; missing his children but also knowing he didn't get to spend much quality time with you in Las Vegas either, aside from last-minute lovemaking in the evening.

Michael first approaches Vincent's nursery before heading downstairs, seeing the crib is empty but the sounds of his baby son babbling downstairs from the kitchen.

The scent of Michael's cologne comes down before you even sense your husband's presence or see him; in the kitchen with baby Vincent sitting in his baby seat close to you and by the dining table with his older siblings.

Verona and Niccolo sit across from each other and surround Vincent, smiling and distracting their little baby brother with a handful of toys as you get to preparing breakfast.

"He's so tiny," Verona giggles to herself, handing Vincent a toy he dropped. "Teeny tiny!"

Vincent smiles up at his siblings aimlessly, very receptive to laughter and positive voices surrounding him. 

"He is a tiny little guy, isn't he?" You chuckle, dressed in a burgundy shirtwaist dress with a pair of house flats on; standing by the stove and preparing breakfast.

While you've just picked up on Michael's cologne signaling he's nearby, Michael's taken in the scent of breakfast being cooked while coming down to the kitchen.

In a pan, you sautee together chopped pieces of bacon, Italian sausage crumble, grated mozzarella and cheddar, green pepper, mushrooms, and small broccoli florets.

You reach into the egg carton next to you on the counter, setting three eggs aside. 

Michael leans against the doorway, taking in the delicious scent of the meat and vegetables being sauteed and feeling the warm spring breeze coming from the back door flow into the kitchen.

Distracted, you crack three eggs into the frittata you're making, disposing of the eggshells in the little trashcan next to you and giving your hands a quick rinse in the sink.

Michael gazes at you with intrigue, watching you quickly your wrist moves to whisk in the eggs quickly into the frittata and reach for a carton of cream from the refrigerator.

Michael's eyes admire the way your hips move, how your dress adorns your body, and every inch of you in nothing but pure adoration.

Already having noticed their father from afar standing by quietly, the twins giggle amongst each other in reaction; very clearly aware as to how their father is lovingly appreciating their mother behind her back.

"Good morning," you hear Michael's velvety voice call out from behind; causing your heart to race just like that.

"Good morning, Daddy!" The twins chime in together.

"Aaa," Vincent shakes his rattling toy aimlessly, unsure why the sudden upbeat enthusiasm is coming from his siblings but just happy to join in on it.

"Good morning, darling," you turn around blushing, seeing a small smile over Michael's lips.

"Aaa!" Vincent raises his voice in excitement, waving around his toy.

"I think he says good morning too, Daddy," Niccolo laughs.

"I believe so," Michael walks into the kitchen, leaning down to scoop up three-month-old Vincent in his arms. "Hello, little man. He's awake early."

"He is," you agree, carefully putting the pan into the preheated oven. "He's being so good this morning despite waking so early, though. Not a fuss made, just babbling little conversations to himself and his siblings."

"He likes to talk," Verona points out, waving at her baby brother in Michael's arms.

Vincent aimlessly stares at Michael, sticking out his little tongue before bumping his head against Michael's temple lightly. "Aa...."

"But how old will Vincent be when he can talk to us, Daddy?" Niccolo asks, sitting upright.

"Almost two years old, I'd say," Michael replies, rubbing Vincent's back in lazy circles gently.

"What?!" Verona gasps.

"Two years?!" Niccolo lets out a deep sigh, "That's gonna take forever!"

"Well, what did you think, honey?" You let out a laugh, setting out jars of homemade grape, strawberry, and raspberry jam from the cabinet.

"Sooner?" Niccolo shrugs his shoulders sheepishly, "Maybe it takes one year!"

"Far too soon," Michael shakes his head as you take out three little bowls to put equal varieties of jam in. "Even the two of you weren't talking in a year. Just a few words here and there."

"Really?" Verona's eyes widen with intrigue.

"Really," you smile back at her, "and you both will get to see Vincent grow up right in front of your eyes so you'll understand."

Niccolo looks up to see baby Vincent clutching his tiny grip over the fabric of Michael's waistcoat, distracted by the texture against his skin.

You set out the selections of jam over the dining table, moving back to the stove. "If it's one thing you all share like your baby brother, it's that none of you could stop grabbing and touching daddy's tie or clothes."

"But Daddy wears Italian silk suits, right?" Verona speaks up.

"That I do," Michael answers, walking towards the back door with Vincent to get some fresh air; amused by Vincent's distraction towards his waistcoat.

"So it's very soft!" Verona exclaims.

"Oh, ya," Niccolo adds, "and very fancy."

"Very," you laugh with them, "Vincent is the master of fancy fabrics."

“He knows he likes his suits,” Michael cracks a rare joke, carefully stepping out into the courtyard as Vincent excitedly rattles his toy in his free hand.

You move the mixing bowl containing ricotta pancake batter over to the stove, adding a small amount to the hot pan and watching it spread into shape. “Almost ready for breakfast!”

“Can I help, mama?” Verona hops off her seat.

“Sure, darling,” you gesture to one of the kitchen cupboards. “We have some biscotti in there. Could you please take some out and set them out on the plate here? We can have some with jam this morning.”

“Okay!” Verona nods, doing as she’s told. “Tasty jam. I help Mama.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” you smile down at her, glancing up momentarily to see Michael slowly pacing around the courtyard with Vincent in his arms.

Vincent snuggles onto his father’s shoulder, chewing on his rattle toy while peeking around the sight of nature around him.

“We’re almost done here…” Distracted, you flip the pancake over carefully and keep the sizes of the others at a consistent size and thickness.

You glance at the other pan of food still steaming hot on the other side of the stove—Italian sausage and eggs—taking note of everything to get ready.

“Smells so good, mama,” Niccolo looks over to the stove giddily, eyeing the homemade marinara sauce smothered amid the Italian sausage and poached eggs. “My favorite!” 

“A favorite of daddy’s too,” you add, beginning to set the silverware and plates out on the dining table.

Niccolo gets up from his seat, helping his sister reach into the cupboard and taking as many cups as he can with him towards the dining table to help out.

“Perfect, thank you two,” you rub Niccolo and Verona’s shoulders—looking towards the backdoor. “I’ll get Daddy and Vincent in otherwise they’ll be out there forever.”

The twins giggle amongst each other as you step out into the courtyard, taking in a breath of the fresh spring air to see your husband walking around the center of the backyard and kissing Vincent’s cheek.

“Hi, baby,” unable to wipe the growing smile off of your face, you approach both of them.

“Hello, darling,” Michael turns around to face you as you lean up, pecking a sweet kiss over your husband’s lips. 

Michael kisses back, gazing at you. “Is breakfast ready?”

“Mhmm, it is,” you gently squish Vincent’s chubby cheek, gesturing for them to follow inside. “Everything’s ready and we’re waiting for you two to come join us! I wonder if this little man is hungry.”

“I think so, considering how he’s been chewing on every toy I give him,” Michael chuckles quietly, taking your hand with his free one before following you back inside the estate.

~ 

Sitting by herself in her family estate across a small distance from yours, Sandra rests her cheek upon her fist and gives out a glum sigh to herself. The day has practically just started; just the morning after you, Michael, and Sonny’s arrival back home from Las Vegas.

Naturally, Sandra understands how exhausted her husband may be from travel. Sonny’s always felt worn out one way or another with long road trips and plane rides, regardless of how far or close his destination is.

Jet lag has never done any good for Sonny who prefers to rest it off by sleeping in much more than he may normally do when given the chance instead of taking naps throughout the day, and a shot or two of whiskey here and there never hurt to keep his mind sharp throughout it.

No different than any other time, Sonny slumped into bed last night tired and with a pounding headache. The only thing he did before falling asleep just a moment after taking a shot of whiskey and mumbling, “I’m exhausted,” to Sandra.

When it comes to Sonny, Sandra’s more than aware that’s her husband’s normal behavior hence why she didn’t question it.

Come to think of it with Sandra’s mind on nothing else but what a lonely morning she woke up to, she’s come to realize Sonny was rather dismissive and even a little cold towards her.

Still, knowing how much of a grumpy, sarcastic mood Sonny can get in when he’s tired and hungry, Sandra lets it be as it is.

She neither minds waking up alone nor having Sonny sleep in especially after travel, but having the children go off to the governess first thing in the morning and have breakfast by herself after being alone for a few days, the loneliness and lack of companionship hits Sandra hard.

It was after Sandra finished breakfast and began cleaning up that Sonny woke up abruptly and couldn’t fall back asleep.

Instead of letting Sandra know or greeting his wife, Sonny took a hot shower which Sandra overheard then fixed himself a drink of gin and tonic for breakfast which came off as somewhat odd to Sandra.

Sandra’s already guessing something is up with Sonny since it seems as if he’s practically avoiding her but she can’t make any sense of it.

Rising from her seat on the couch, Sandra frowns and looks around the quiet, empty house—wishing she could at least spend some time with Sonny and ask him how his trip went. After all, Sandra knows everyone else is spending time with their families and enjoying breakfast together right now except her.

Feeling left out and alone, suspicion slowly begins to grow over Sandra who begins to approach Sonny’s study, knowing he’s in there from the ruffling sound of newspapers and Sonny setting down his drink.

From the ajar door, Sandra sees her husband sitting over a leather armchair with his ankle crossed over and resting on his leg—reading through a newspaper.

“Sonny?” Sandra places her hand over the door, peeking in with concern over her expression.

Sonny purposefully takes a few extra seconds to react, looking up at Sandra with boredom and slight irritation. “Huh? Yeah, what is it?”

“Nothing, I just wanted to check up on you,” Sandra replies, frowning. “You missed breakfast.”

“Yeah, I know,” Sonny grunts, stretching out his arms. “I was tired.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Nah, I had something to eat already,” Sonny says, returning his attention back to the newspaper in his hands.

Sandra remains quiet, standing by the door for a moment; she knows Sonny has nothing else to say to her nor does he even want to carry a conversation with Sandra right now, but she can’t understand why Sonny’s acting the way he is now.

“What?” Sonny asks after a moment, growing more tense.

“Nothing,” Sandra murmurs, turning around and shutting the office door behind her.

Heading into the foyer, Sandra puts her Mary-Janes on and exits the estate. She makes her way to what used to be Fredo and Deanna’s shared estate, now belonging to Connie and Leo.

Knowing the only one she can confide in over her brother’s behavior that isn’t spending time with family or is occupied this morning is Connie, Sandra hopes to herself that her sister-in-law can ease her overthinking and offer some advice.

If it’s anyone who knows Sonny and his antics well and on a much different level than a brother would, it’s Sonny’s own sister—Connie. Besides, Sandra doesn’t at all feel up to bothering anyone else like you or Theresa whose shy, reserved, and put off by Sonny’s behavior to begin with.

Deanna on the other hand is in Hollywood shooting a film with Johnny Fontane, but her relationship with Sonny is just as limited as Theresa’s.

‘Then again..’ Sandra glances over in the direction of your estate. ‘There’s Victoria.’

Immediately, Sandra’s mind goes back to the events of what occurred in New York whether she wants to remember it or not; seeing Sonny with blood gushing out of his nose, swelling, and puffiness reaching his eyes all bleeding and bruised when Michael confronted him about why he made a move on you.

Like the others, Sandra was also under the impression Sonny went to New York to check on you and the twins. Everyone assumed Sonny would also bring news to Tom or Michael, but only those two and Sonny knew what was really going on and why you left for New York in the first place.

Sonny never told Sandra why you were in New York to begin with as everyone knew how personal the reason was and would prefer to forget it all entirely.

While Sandra doesn’t know the whole story of the whys and hows of New York, she does know that Michael refused to speak with Sonny for an entire month let alone have him remotely near you because Sonny kissed you and attempted to seduce you in New York.

Sandra unfortunately knows she’ll never not be jealous when thinking of everything that happened, but it’s toned down over time and her emotions don’t get as strong over remembering it either.

Sandra also knows you didn’t kiss Sonny back or pull a move on him. She figures as she’s heard from you and your reaction that you must’ve been nothing but shocked and disgusted; Sonny’s your brother-in-law after all and you would never do that to Sandra, let alone ever to Michael.

At that point, time was the only remedy for everything that had happened. You felt somewhat alienated from Sonny as a result for a little while and Sandra witnessed that herself.

Still, despite apologizing to you and hearing your side of the story, Sandra can never truly live down her guilt and shame of how she embarrassed herself by talking down to you at your mother’s funeral.

Sandra swallows her remaining, stinging jealousy down but not her pride. She doesn’t want to talk to you at all regarding Sonny; it’ll do nothing but rouse her imagination the wrong way about her husband.

Instead, Sandra continues to go up to Sandra’s estate with the hopes that her sister-in-law can offer her advice and lift her spirits or at the very least that Connie can tell her anything she knows about the trip to Las Vegas.

Of course, Sandra plans to speak with you later in the afternoon and hear more about how you are and how the trip went, but Sandra’s concern right now doesn’t have anything to do with the actual traveling or Las Vegas; Sandra’s only concern is Santino.

~

It’s not unusual for the gateways, doors, and balconies of individual estates on the Lake Tahoe compound to be left open during the day although high security is guaranteed twenty-four hours a day throughout the entire week. 

It only signifies that your family isn’t busy, away from the compound, or seeking privacy, and is welcome to anyone popping by, hence why Connie’s estate door is left wide open this morning. 

Sandra also knows Leo is currently away in New York at the moment, traveling back and forth from the state to Nevada with and for Connie when time and business permits. 

From the moment Sandra enters Connie’s estate, Connie and Mama Corleone in the kitchen already pick up on the sound of someone’s kitten heels clacking against the mahogany floorboards and she guesses it’s either Sandra or Theresa purely based on shoe choice. 

In the kitchen, Connie prepares a pot of black tea, chatting away with Carmela about her next planned trip to New York with Leonardo just as Sandra enters the kitchen—smiling sheepishly and hugging her own arms. 

“Hi, honey,” Mama Corleone’s eyes light up at the sight of Sandra.   

“Hey, Sandra,” Connie greets, turning to face her sister-in-law. “Good morning.” 

“Morning,” Sandra says back, glancing around the kitchen uneasily. “Done breakfast so soon?” 

“Oh, we just finished up a few moments ago. Did you?” Mama Corleone peeks at her. 

“Mm,” Sandra nods, “I had a short one. I just sent off the kids to their studies and that’s that,” she lets out a soft sigh, realizing that if she remains here and talks like this that it invites Mama Corleone to stay and listen too. 

Naturally, Sandra has no issue with Mama Corleone consoling her or giving her advice but at this point, Sandra’s far too embarrassed to talk to her mother-in-law about Sonny again and again. 

“Actually, um, I was wondering if I could talk to you, Connie?” 

“Of course,” Connie agrees, exchanging a glance with Mama Corleone. 

“I’ll see you girls at lunch then,” completely understanding, Carmela smiles at her girls before she begins to make her way out of the kitchen. “Take care!” 

“Bye mama,” Sandra calls back out before facing Connie once more and seeing the concern growing over her sister-in-law’s face. 

“There’s that look in your eyes again,” Connie points out, taking out another tea cup. “Let me get you something to drink first, honey. Go on, have a seat. I already know.” 

“Thank you,” Sandra murmurs, closing the kitchen door behind her before taking a seat at the dining table. 

Connie pours two cups of steaming, black tea and takes a tiny bowl holding sugar cubes and small stirring spoons over to the dining table, sitting across from her sister-in-law. “I could tell just by the way you walked in here that something had to be wrong.” 

“I wish I could prove you wrong,” Sandra says glumly, “never been the greatest at hiding my annoyances, have I? Thank you,” Sandra pulls her teacup over the table to herself with two sugar cubes. 

“You and me both,” Connie chuckles, letting out a deep breath. “What is it? What’s troubling you? Go on, I want all the details.” 

“I didn’t wanna make it a big deal because I don’t know what’s going on,” Sandra begins, staring at her tea. 

“You always say that,” Connie points out, raising her brows. 

“I know,” Sandra whines quietly. “But it’s Sonny.” 

“What about him? Or do I even need to ask?” Connie rolls her eyes, “what’s he gone off to do this time?” 

Sandra blinks, unable to come up with an immediate response. “It’s his trip. Sonny came back from Vegas with Michael and Victoria…” 

“Mhmm,” Connie nods, listening. 

“He was exhausted when he got home, so he wanted to go to bed right away which is fine—” Sandra shakes her head, “he had a drink before, didn’t talk to me or the children whatsoever, and just went straight to bed.” 

“Huh,” Connie notes, “exhausted, then?” 

“Yeah, he was,” Sandra answers. 

“I didn’t see him as ‘exhausted’,” Connie stares back at her. “That’s a bit of an overstatement now isn’t it?” 

“You saw him last night?” Sandra raises a brow, knowing all Sonny did was barge right into the estate the minute he grabbed his luggage from the car and wasted no time in doing so. 

“Yeah, Sonny barged in here all annoyed and asking for whiskey. I’d say he was more grouchy than ‘exhausted’. He definitely had more than enough energy to march in here like that.” 

“That’s not what I saw or heard,” anxiety begins to spike up in Sandra. “I mean… Sonny told me he was tired and going to bed—I didn’t get another word out of him after that. He finished his drink and went to sleep—whatever. Slept in for two more hours this morning and it’s like he missed breakfast on purpose because I swear to you, just as I finished cleaning up and sent off the kids to the governess, he awoke. Sonny didn’t say a word to me, didn’t come in to eat anything. He just made himself a gin and tonic—I don’t get it. He’s being so cold to me, this isn’t normal. He’s completely disinterested in anything I have to say. It’s like every time I try to approach him, I annoy him.” 

Connie takes a sip of her tea, pursing her lips. “Victoria didn’t tell you?” 

“Tell me what, Connie?” The tip of Sandra’s ears and the nape of her neck prickle hot with brimming anxiety. “I haven’t spoken to her since before she left. I thought I would after lunch today.” 

“I saw Victoria briefly before she went in last night,” Connie tells her, “just made some small talk—asked her how the trip went and if she needed anything because if anyone was exhausted, it was her. I may as well tell you,” Connie shrugs her shoulders, “though I’m not sure if it’ll surprise you or be something you haven’t heard before.” 

“Why?” Sandra’s throat tightens as she mixes her sugar cubes inside her tea. 

“I mean, they went to Las Vegas, Sandra,” Connie licks over her lips, “Sonny wasn’t exactly there for ‘business’.” 

“I see,” Sandra mumbles to herself, looking far more distraught than Connie expects. 

“Okay, you let him off the hook too much, honey,” Connie sighs, shaking her head. “He just goes left, right, and center and he’s been doing that since we were teenagers. Sonny’s excuse is that you let him and it’s disgusting. I don’t know how you deal with it.” 

“I never really let him do ‘anything’,” Sandra rakes a hand through her hair, letting out a shaky sigh. “Sonny can barely control himself. It’s how he is, how he always was. You know our marriage didn’t change him and neither did having kids. His dick has a mind of its own.” 

“Yeugh,” Connie fake gags, brushing off the comment. “I know, trust me.” 

“But what does Victoria have to do with this?” Sandra holds back the growing emotion in the back of her throat. 

“It’s not that, Sandra, relax,” Connie lets out a soft laugh, “relax! She’s just as mad as you, honestly. Victoria was scolding Sonny the whole trip. She won’t talk to him, she said. He must have pissed her off real good this time.” 

“Because he couldn’t keep his hands to himself?” Sandra suggests. 

“When it comes to Rita Duvall, definitely,” Connie rolls her eyes with a scoff. 

“Rita,” Sandra repeats. “Rita? Are you serious?” 

“Mhmm,” Connie appears somewhat amused towards Sandra’s irritated reaction upon the mention of Rita Duvall’s name. “Now that’s two negative reactions whenever that woman’s name is mentioned. I guess you know a bit about our favorite dancer and mistress extraordinaire outside Victoria’s personal grudge towards her?” 

“Do I?” Sandra scowls, “I’ve had my fair share of tugging Sonny’s ear about that whore.” 

“Yeah?” 

Sandra takes in a deep breath, only growing much more irate. “She’s a good-for-nothing whore. Everything she does is for attention and on purpose. She and Sonny—they… The fucking chemistry they have—” Sandra’s eyes begin to tear up as her voice shakes. “How could I not fucking hate her? I can’t stand her or her whorish antics, tricks, and shows—whatever the hell she does. She’s nothing but eye candy, a pleaser and Sonny loves it. She’s exactly what he wants, you know?” 

“Sandra—” 

“Sonny won’t fuck an honest woman the way he loves to fuck his whores,” Sandra’s eyes pool with tears, “She’d look me in the eye and do my husband if she could, but that’s not exclusive, right? It’s not that hard to have Sonny head over heels for you, it’s just impossible for me and I’m his wife. It wasn’t impossible for Victoria.” 

“Hey,” Connie interrupts sharply, placing her hands over the top of Sandra’s. “Honey, it’s okay. It’s alright. No, I get what you mean completely but Victoria doesn’t have Sonny wrapped around her finger. Don’t say that.” 

“H-how am I supposed to know?” Sandra breaks down in tears, weeping. “Everyone can have my husband but me! So I don’t have a choice, Connie. I have to suspect everyone and I hate her. I hate Rita and I hate anyone like her!” 

~ 

[ 6 Months Earlier: Las Vegas, Nevada ]

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time to welcome the night of your life where filthy sin and heavenly lust collide; where lines of love and arousal blur to please you! This is a night to remember and accept splendor and entertainment with the one and only, Miss Rita Duvall!” 

The glistening silver curtains encrusted in crystals flutter about over the stage, reflecting over the polished, white marble stage to reveal Rita behind—slowly spinning in a life-size bird cage made of solid gold, decorated in the same dazzling crystals and diamonds. 

Wearing silk, red gloves with diamonds adorning her fingers, Rita’s strawberry blonde hair is curled over her shoulders—bringing attention to the sparkling ruby necklace upon her collarbone, the smokey makeup over her eyes, and cherry red lipstick matching the fiery, scarlet shade of red she wears in a sleeveless bodysuit decorated with the same precious gems and rubies. 

Much like a Vegas showgirl’s classic bodysuit, Rita stands out as the star of the show with a mock peacock tail affixed to the back of her costume; real feathers dipped in crimson dye with matching six-inch stilettos over her feet. 

Background dancers dressed similarly to Rita but without distracting away from having her become the center of attention and swirl about the stage, dancing, and grouping together to slide and push the birdcage towards the middle of the stage. 

Gasps from the crowd mesmerized in awe come from around the room, erupting in cheer and applause which Sonny joins; seated in the second row at the very front of the stage with Michael and Leonardo. 

Close enough to practically smell Rita’s perfume, Sonny’s eyes are fixated on her as Rita blows out kisses to the crowd, swaying her hips over the cushioned seat inside the life-size birdcage. 

Michael ignores anything and everything to do with the show entirely, effectively blocking it out while focusing on his dinner and keeping an eye on the time to anticipate when all of this nonsense will be over and his business partner will come to meet him. 

Amongst all of their family, colleagues, and business partners, Michael and Leonardo remain to be the odd ones out with no interest in erotic shows, brothels, or mistresses for their own reasons; Michael’s being quite self-explanatory knowing him. 

Leonardo on the other hand has always been indifferent to it; it’s not so much that he minds such entertainment and opportunities, but he chooses to have nothing to do with them. 

In the middle of a show like this where it’s hard to ignore what’s going on—let alone the performers themselves—Leonardo can appreciate that it’s a form of entertainment enjoyed by many, and that’s all he’ll take it as without making it personal. 

While Michael can hide his dislike and annoyance for anything without effort, Leonardo can’t hold back from having his expression show exactly how he feels. Since Leonardo initiated a relationship with Connie—now his fiancé—he feels all the more disinterested and uncomfortable. 

Performers, dancers, prostitutes, and showgirls like Rita and Rita herself are a hot commodity amongst rich businessmen, politicians, and influential men seeking entertainment and companionship so there’s never a gap in bookings and demand. 

‘It’s not her entertainment skills or whoring that’s her “talent” either. She’s ‘talented’, alright, but in ways you wouldn’t imagine.’ 

Aroused by how little he’s seen already, Sonny eyes Rita’s plump thighs—admiring how the color red matches her vigor and passion on stage. 

Rita grinds her hips, dancing sensually around the bars of the birdcage slowly to show off every inch of her body. 

‘There’s a million Rita Duvalls. Give any cocktail waitress or Vegas showgirl a big enough gig and she’ll do what she does best, but Rita wants more. Nothing is ever enough for her.’ 

Sonny whistles under his breath, momentarily capturing Michael’s attention who looks up at the stage for only a split second to see Rita look in their direction and lick up one of the bars. 

Unphased, Michael immediately looks away once more with zero intention of even glancing up for a moment to the stage again whereas Sonny can hardly hold back his throbbing erection. 

‘I don’t know if she has issues of her own or if she’s a narcissist who gets high off all the attention, but Rita wouldn’t look anyone in the eye who can’t give her what she wants. She can only entertain for so long until she catches the eye of somebody who finds her the most irresistible of the night.’ 

Michael is no stranger to such forms of entertainment. Half the time Michael travels for business or is meeting with his business partners at any time, some sort of similar entertainment is almost always provided. 

Usually, however, the nature of the entertainment isn’t solely erotic or anything like this, let alone with a face Michael recognizes. 

Michael’s aware tonight’s show harbors on pure erotica, but later on in the evening, he’s also bound to discover it’s a sex show later on. 

Sonny wouldn’t miss this level of entertainment for the world, always preferring to mix pleasure with business and never considering himself as dull as his younger brother. 

Michael can and will purposefully miss any shows of obscenity and promiscuity. Nothing gets to him not just because Michael’s interest in such entertainment is low, but rather that it’s nonexistent. 

Michael’s business colleagues would die in the face of boredom if they did business the way Michael did; long meetings face-to-face in silence for hours with nothing but relevant talk. 

‘Rita has the first pick of the best venues. Rita won’t perform somewhere she knows money won’t roll in. Businessmen, investors, politicians—think of the wealthiest, most influential men. That’s why she’s there.’ 

Pleasure in business is seen as a casual thing by most mafiosi; some even talk business at brothels rather than anywhere else. 

None of it particularly bothers Michael to a personal extent, but he can certainly count on his fingers how many mafiosi he knows that don’t indulge in such entertainment: himself, Vito—his father—and Leonardo, his brother-in-law. 

‘Rita knows her audience. Married, usually middle-aged men with a wife and kids at home… Talking about what an honest woman can’t give him.’ 

Rita is all flair and style—what she’s known for better than anyone else in Las Vegas. Using all of her stage props and background effects to dance and sing at the same time, she puts on a show to remember for tonight. 

Interacting with the crowd is just another act Rita intends on doing tonight, something that immediately spiked your dislike for her when Rita first tried it with Michael at a family event with children present; despite being an adult performer, Rita knew what she signed up for and willingly crossed those boundaries after all. 

‘She’s far from being honest and she knows it. She uses these men for arm candy, influence, reputation, and above all—sex and money. They make for the best kind of blackmail. She’s made that obvious enough.’ 

Rita doesn’t have any boundaries and she doesn’t feel the need to either. Rita offers what she does and has a “take it or leave it policy”, asking if everyone else loves it, why don’t you? 

Michael checks the time on his watch again as Rita parts away from the birdcage and begins to dance to the tune of a sultry, slow sogn upon the stage; making sure the feathers on her bodysuit bounce and shake with every move. 

It’s then and there that Michael notices just how absolutely fixated Sonny is on Rita, mindlessly staring at her. 

Michael doesn’t need to look up to Rita to see why, but his brother’s blatant arousal and unprofessionalism are beginning to irritate Michael; all Sonny’s been doing the entirety of the trip is paying attention to nothing but women. “Let me know when you decide to attend business for business one of these days.” 

“Relax, Mikey,” Sonny chuckles, looking away from Rita for the first time since the show started. “I’m enjoying the show, she’s performing, I don’t wanna let it go to waste. I don’t get you two.” 

Leonardo looks up from his plate, biting into a piece of steak. “Why’s that?” 

“Well, never mind, I guess,” Sonny grins, “I’m not saying anything towards you. You’re engaged to my sister.” 

‘She’s no performer, dancer, entertainer, or whatever the fuck she calls herself. We all know what she is. I wasn’t born yesterday. Rita’s a blackmailing whore.’ 

Eyeing Sonny from the table as she performs, Sonny’s lustful and interested gaze on her hasn’t gone unnoticed with all that admiring. 

It helps all the more that Sonny’s seated so close to the stage and with Michael Corleone whom Rita knows is impossible to get a shred of attention or interest from but Rita’s satisfied with luring in one Corleone brother before she aspires to go back to back with another. 

The only positive purpose doing business in such venues, clubs, and brothels serves most mafiosi besides personal pleasure is the fact that if there’s unwanted or hostile presence of police and FBI not on a mafioso’s payroll, it’s much easier to be able to appear as a couple of businessmen chatting and having drinks while enjoying a show than appearing suspicious. 

None can hear nor suspect any illicit business is being discussed or ongoing from music, singing, and distractions after all. 

Michael still refuses to pay any attention to Rita’s show during her second act even when his business partners arrive; consisting of her emerging from an amethyst and diamond-studded, lifesize clam large enough to comfortably fit three people in. 

Completely and utterly in awe as if he’s in a trance, Sonny and the rest of the invited businessmen are thoroughly entertained and their enjoyment and need for entertainment is just a necessary, lesser evil Michael comes to accept. 

If such needs to occur for business to come along smoothly without issue, then Michael has no issues with it although he finds it all negatively distracting. 

Slow jazz music builds up to its climax as Rita fully emerges from the clamshell, causing business discussions at the table to be briefly interrupted as a result. 

Leonardo and Michael look over to see Rita no longer dressed in her peacock-inspired bodysuit but only in a pair of bra and panties made from a lightweight chain and decorated in pearls and diamonds. 

Rita extends out her arms to the tune of the jazz music, throwing her hair back and stepping out the clam barefoot. 

Just as Michael’s about to divert his gaze once more and remind his business partners what the task at hand is, Rita places her hand over her bra and pulls it off with ease—causing the pearls and diamonds to spring loose and around her on the stage. 

‘She’ll curl up in the arms of any rich, powerful man who can give her a night to remember, spoil her and pay for the new diamonds you see on her ears.’ 

More hoots, whistling and cheers can be heard from the crowd and from Sonny himself as Rita remains completely topless; her breasts springing free as she pulls the matching panties down her legs—bending over. 

“Goddamn,” Sonny chuckles to himself, taking in the view. 

Michael sighs quietly to himself, understanding this is now a full-on sex show rather than the other forms of performances and entertainment he’s had the misery of having to attend yet he isn’t surprised. 

‘When she doesn’t want to let go of her arm candy, she’ll just resort to blackmail. Easy to do to politicians who can’t keep their eyes or hands to themselves, to begin with. It’ll give her the big payday she’s looking for and everyone moves on. She craves it just as much she craves the attention.’ 

Michael lights another cigarette, figuring whenever Rita’s done with her jaw-dropping antics, everyone can get back to business even if that means it looks like Michael will have to wait longer. 

Rita’s third and final act of the night consists of the curtains drawing back once more to reveal her sitting naked inside a massive, human-sized cocktail glass that matches the gems of the clam from her second act. 

Rita lets the pink-colored water inside the cocktail glass soak over her skin as Rita rests her arms on the rim of the cocktail glass. 

Rita then raises up her thigh, letting the pink water drip off as she begins to massage and caress the liquid over her body. 

‘She’ll never have to worry about blackmailing Sonny… If she was to, that would mean he’d want to stay away from her for good, right? Right?’ 

[ Present Day, Lake Tahoe Compound ]

Connie frowns, clasping a hand over her mouth as she stares at Sandra. 

“Say something, please,” Sandra croaks—her throat tightening. 

“Sandra, I’m so, so sorry—Sandra! Sandra!” Connie gasps as Sandra bolts from the dining table, almost spilling her tea. 

“SONNY! SONNY!” Sandra shrieks, storming out of Connie and Leo’s estate. 

“Sandra, wait! Oh my God!” Connie jumps up from her seat, rushing after her sister-in-law. “Sandra, no!” 

All Connie can think of is that while Sandra’s emotions, reactions, and outbursts are completely normal and to be expected, she’s guaranteed Vito and Carmela’s involvement in this now by shouting it for everyone to hear on the compound. 

~ 

Back in your estate shortly after finishing up breakfast with your family, you hold baby Vincent in your arms—indulging in conversation with the nanny, Esther as the twins begin their morning lessons with the governess. 

“Oh, it’s definitely been a while,” you chuckle. “My family visits Sicily regularly, but that’s a given for all the business they do. I think I had more than enough opportunity after we moved to New York, but my studies and work always got in the way.” 

“Would that mean you haven’t been there for five years now? Oh my,” Esther’s eyes widen. 

“Mhmm,” you admit sheepishly, kissing Vincent’s cheek. “Not since the twins were just little babies. Funny enough we’ve been to Rome, Venice, and Florence since but not back to the homeland since. That’ll change very soon.” 

“Looking forward to a good trip for you and the family then, Mrs. Corleone,” Esther beams, “all that time gone by still surprises me. The twins were so tiny, just like this little guy!” 

Before she can say anymore, Esther glances over her shoulder to see Michael stepping out of the estate to approach you; the morning sun glistening over his skin as he keeps both hands in his pockets. 

Understanding the need for privacy, Esther gives both of you a polite smile and a small nod before entering back into the estate to leave you two alone. 

“Hello, darling,” Michael greets you by wrapping an arm around your waist. 

“Hi, baby,” you blush, “I’m thinking we could spend the rest of our morning out on the yacht together maybe with a cold drink and—” 

“SANTINO! SANTINO!” You’re interrupted by the alarming sound of Sandra shrieking around the compound. 

Michael and you exchange a concerned look with one another before rushing out to the front of the estate where Sandra’s continuous scream-sobbing is coming from. 

Sonny’s the first to his wife wailing, throwing down his newspaper and springing out of his seat from surprise. 

“Sandra?!” You call out as Michael keeps a protective arm around you. “Oh—Connie!” You spot your sister-in-law running over, distraught and confused. “Connie! What’s going on—” 

Connie stops in her tracks to see Sandra rush out from behind her estate to inside, only gone for a split second before the three of you watch her screaming insults and curse words in a mix of English and Italian before shoving Sonny outside. 

“Fucking stop! Stop it, alright?!” Sonny grunts, stumbling out of the estate. “What the fuck are you doing?!” 

“GET OUT, GET OUT!” Sandra screams, pointing away from the compound. “GET THE FUCK OUT!” 

“Lower your fucking voice!” Sonny shouts over top over her, brushing off his wrinkled tank top. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?! Huh?!” 

Before you can say anything, Michael—who remains completely calm next to you—raises his free hand up to silence you, giving you a reassuring look but also signaling he won’t give involved in the middle of this and doesn’t want you to either. 

Sobbing and practically shaking, Sandra opens her mouth again to cry out but is immediately silenced by Sonny. “What the fuck are you yelling for, woman?! What’s wrong with you?!” 

“What’s going on?” Michael interrupts, speaking up. 

The three of you including Connie begin to slowly approach as you also notice Tom and Theresa slowly doing so from their estate after hearing everything. 

With security and guards on alert, Al Neri and Rocco slowly begin to make their way over whereas Esther rushes into the central family compound to ensure the children don’t hear or step out, but it’s only going to be a matter of time until Vito and Carmela do. 

Vincent stares around aimlessly, confused by all the yelling and overlapping loud voices around him but seemingly disinterested and unaffected by it as he plays with a few strands of your hair. 

“Even if your father’s life depended on it, you wouldn’t be able to stop fucking whoring!” Sandra shrieks, “every time you go ‘on business’ all you do is whore around! That’s all you’ve been doing for years, isn’t it?! Go ahead, tell everyone, Sonny! And remind Michael and Victoria too!” 

Connie remains silent, biting her lip. All of this hits too close to home, reminding her of how many times she was in Sandra’s place herself when she was still married to Carlo. 

Connie didn’t want anyone silencing what she had to say to Carlo then, so she refuses to attempt to silence Sandra now. 

“You—” Sonny begins, but Sandra cuts him off. 

“Don’t you want everyone to know what you did in Las Vegas?! Go ahead and tell the children while we’re at it!” 

“Sandra,” Michael speaks calmly, shaking his head. 

“It’s true, isn’t it?” Sandra hiccups, facing Michael as Sonny sighs loudly. “It's true when we first got married—” Sandra points an accusing finger at Sonny. “And true before! But Michael, you’re not going to lie to me, are you? What did Sonny do in Vegas? I want you to tell me.” 

“My brother is an adult capable of making his own decisions and thinking for himself,” Michael replies, “I’m not his babysitter. We had business in Las Vegas, yes, but what Sonny did before, during, and after is not my concern nor do I or Victoria witness it.” 

“Thank you!” Sonny scoffs, beginning to turn away before Sandra yanks on his arm and pulls him back. 

“I don’t fucking think so!” Sandra scowls. “I’ll decide that and you’re NOT going to walk away from me, Santino! You can barely control yourself as is and I’ve had ENOUGH!” 

“YOU HEARD HIM!” Sonny yells back, pointing at Michael. 

“Sonny, don’t yell!” Connie frowns, growing uneasy. 

Sonny’s eyes soften momentarily as he looks over at his sister. “I was only there for business.” 

“Victoria,” Sandra narrows her eyes at you. “What did you see? Tell me.” 

You snuggle Vincent to your chest, sighing softly. “Sandra, this isn’t—” 

“Oh no, no.” Sandra glares at you, “you’re not going to tell me how to react, right? If your husband was known to whore around for years, would you really remain quiet? That passive?” 

“Stop,” you stare back at her, unamused. “That’s not what this is.” 

“THEN TELL ME WHAT IT IS!” Sandra screams, causing Connie to flinch. 

“Lower your voice when you speak to Victoria,” Michael warns, hearing the faint footsteps of Vito and Carmela beginning to step out from the central family compound. 

“Tell me, tell me! TELL ME!” Sandra sobs, hiccupping. 

Sonny shakes his head, locking eyes with you; his expression still somewhat hurt from your last encounter with him in Las Vegas.   

“All of New York knows the truth but not me, his own wife!” Sandra points to her chest, “I deserve to know the truth! Tell me!” 

“You do,” Michael agrees, somewhat calming Sandra. “Yes, you do.” 

“Constanzia,” Carmela calls out gently, approaching her and gesturing her away. “Come here, sweetheart. Come, let’s go.” 

You stay put, watching as Vito approaches with a grave look of disappointment on his face—watching his daughter-in-law weep. 

“Papa,” Sandra hiccups, shaking her head. “What have I done? What did I do? Was I a bad wife to deserve this?” 

Sonny bites his lip, embarrassed in the presence of his father and barely able to look Vito in the eye. 

“No, you were not,” Vito answers, scowling at his son. “And Santino does not think so either, does he?” 

“Pop—” 

“Silence!” Vito interrupts. “You’ve caused our family enough embarrassment, you make your wife cry and you speak back to me? Have you no shame, Santino? You treat the mother of your children—your life partner—this way with such disrespect in front of your family?” Vito shakes a scolding finger at Sonny. “I will speak to you alone, Santino, so you don’t embarrass yourself in front of the family any longer, but you owe answers and apologies to your wife.” 

“I want to hear it from Michael,” Sandra sniffles. 

Vito looks over at the both of you, noticing the frowns on your faces. 

“Him or Victoria,” Sandra hiccups again, “they were both in Las Vegas with Sonny. They know. Victoria, tell Papa.” 

You nod, refusing to hold back for Sonny’s sake. “Papa, I didn’t see or hear anything—that’s the truth—but Sonny told me himself he went to spend time with a woman.” 

“Rita, right?” Sandra attempts to catch her breath. 

Michael raises a brow, seriously beginning to wonder how everyone knows Rita Duvall in this family. 

“Aaaaaa…” Vincent snuggles your chest, surprising you by how calm he remains throughout so much shouting being exchanged. 

“Rita, seriously?” Michael stares at Sonny, no longer able to hold back his own disappointment. 

 You press your lips down together, remaining silent and attempting to appear indifferent to the name mentioned. If Sandra knows of Rita, then she already knows about everything else and if her pain lies with Sonny’s affair with Rita, then you can only think of Sandra who’d be happy to hear someone put Rita Duvall out of her misery a few days ago.

The conversation changing to speak of a woman whom you killed recently is no doubt an interesting one between family.

“Jesus,” Sonny sighs, looking away in defeat. 

“Go inside, I’ll speak with you separately,” Vito gestures Sonny away. “Everyone, please give them some privacy. Let us all return to what we were doing, your mother and I will deal with this.” 

Michael gives Sonny one last look before gently leading you away and back towards your estate. “Come on, darling.” 

“YOU WERE WHORING AROUND IN VEGAS WHILE I WAS WAITING FOR YOU AND TAKING CARE OF OUR FAMILY!” Is the last thing you hear Sandra scream to Sonny right then and there before you and Michael enter your estate. 

~

With every step you take until you and Michael are back into the estate with the door shut, you can hear Sandra’s sobbing, Sonny’s disgruntled comments, and Vito’s scolding. 

“C’mon, c’mon, go inside. Get inside, and we’ll talk. Come on, that’s enough. Stop crying.”

“Aa!” Vincent squirms in your arms, only now beginning to grow restless.

“Ah, I’m right here. Right here,” you gently bop the tip of Vincent’s little nose, “hi, baby. Hiiii, look at Mama.”

“Gaaaaahhhh…” Vincent blinks in confusion, beginning to calm down as you give both of his cheeks a kiss.

Michael glances out towards the window, knowing Sandra is sobbing and inconsolable whereas Vito feels disrespected and embarrassed on behalf of the family.

“There, there,” you wiggle a piece of your hair to Vincent, noticing his interest immediately grow. “Mama’s hair is that interesting, hmm? I’m flattered. You’ll grab on daddy’s tie too, right?”

Vincent blathers quietly, holding a few strands of your hair in a loose grip as you turn to face Michael who locks the front door, gazing back at you.

“I…” You take in a deep breath, patting Vincent’s back. “It’s past his nap time. I should put him to bed.”

“Very well,” Michael nods, slipping both hands into the pockets of his trousers. “We need to talk after.”

Strange, cold tension fills the space between you and Michael momentarily towards the matter with Sandra; a lot to consider on Michael’s behalf whereas memories of New York with Sonny come rushing back to you—leaving a mellow taste in both of your mouths

“I know,” you say back, turning around and approaching the staircase. 

“I want you in my office afterward,” Michael watches as you carefully go up the steps.

“I’m tired, Michael,” you say back; whether it’s of today or what just occurred in front of half of the family, you leave it up to Michael to infer.

“I know. I am too.”

You feel the tension in your body begin to ease up as you make your way upstairs with little Vincent in your arms, already noticing how your son snuggles you in a state of sleepiness.

“Let’s get you all cozy and in your bed,” you whisper softly to Vincent, approaching the nursery. “You’re falling asleep on me already. Oh,” you can’t help but smile at how Vincent’s curled up to your chest, peacefully beginning to doze off.

You carefully set Vincent in his crib, tucking him in and minding what position he’s laying in without waking him.

“I need to learn from you, honestly,” you joke, speaking in a very ushered tone as you watch Vincent sleep. “Just look at you…” You sigh in relief, “growing so fast. Three months have gone like that already… I love you, little guy. Mama loves you so much.” 

You make sure to keep the nursery door open for Esther to check in on Vincent if you’re unable to throughout the day and also to hear any crying.

It’s not that you dread returning downstairs to get to Michael’s office or feel anxious about having a talk with him about all that just occurred with Sandra and Sonny, but rather that you feel so burned out from it all that the last thing you want is to be put in the middle—especially if it means Sandra and Sonny’s marriage will be permanently impacted.

None of this is fair to Sandra, but it’s not fair to you either. Then again, you know more about what happened than you’ll ever let on, and Michael knows this too. 

Back in his office, Michael organizes paperwork over his desk—not so much distracted but waiting for you.

You step into Michael’s office, pulling off your hair tie to let your bun unravel free over your shoulders before smoothening it out. 

You don’t even bother to look up at Michael right away who has his hands in his pockets, walking around his desk to approach you now.

Michael can tell you’re not avoiding looking at him directly out of guilt or anxiety, but that you’re tense and a little shaken up from that dramatic encounter with Sandra and Sonny.

Michael approaches you directly, placing both hands over your arms gently. “Relax, darling. You’re very tense.”

Sighing softly, you look up at your husband and frown.

Michael rubs up and down your arms tenderly, gazing into your eyes with nothing but genuine trust.

“Sandra…” You begin.

“I know,” Michael speaks to you in a soothing, calm voice. “There’s nothing we can do about the matter. It must be left between them.”

“And Papa?”

“Pop is disappointed,” Michael nods grimly. “He’ll have his say”

“I’m glad,” you say with a sigh, wrapping your arms around Michael’s shoulders. “Sandra deserves that much at least.”

Michael and you are more than well aware of how Connie didn’t have that kind of treatment from Vito who outright refused to get involved in her and Connie’s abusive marriage.

“I can presume whatever Santino did was as bad as Sandra claimed,” Michael mentions.

“Yes, it was,” you nod back, “Sonny’s lucky. Even with Pop talking to him who I trust will knock some sense into him, he’s still lucky.”

“Hmm,” Michael embraces you, planting a kiss over the side of your neck. 

“If it was my father…” You grimace, “no. He would be in deep shit. Any of my brothers would.”

“That is to be expected,” Michael agrees. “He came and spoke with me shortly after we settled in.”

You blush, gently pressing your forehead against Michael’s. “Sonny did?”

“Yes,” Michael answers, “he came in bitter, entitled, and demanding answers. All he spoke of was you.”

“Great,” you mumble under your breath. “He doesn’t understand what I did was for his own good.”

“I agree,” Michael says, but in reality, he has no idea exactly what you mean. “He questioned your actions and integrity, but I did not. I don’t. As Pop said, we can’t afford a scandal on Sonny’s behalf after Fredo. Deanna is in Hollywood and has held nothing back to journalists about Fredo and his promiscuity throughout their marriage.”

“Figures,” you rub your temple gingerly, “it’s the last thing we need after all of this.

“And the baby,” Michael kisses your forehead. “I’m more concerned about you and our family than anything else. I refuse to make Sonny’s behavior our problem.”

“I know, baby,” you nod glumly. “I didn’t want Pop and everyone to hear all of that but it was inevitable.”

“Perhaps it was for the best,” Michael offers. “The rest is up to them personally, however… You never told me you hit Sonny.”

“He deserved it,” you look up into Michael’s eyes. “Then and there, he deserved it.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“You didn’t expect that though, did you?” You ask.

“I understood why,” Michael replies. “You’re not a bitter and malicious person, Victoria, and you certainly weren’t in Las Vegas.”

“I know how he is,” you say back, practically still able to hear Rita’s whiny voice mocking you over her supposed pregnancy.

“And that brother-in-law of yours? His seed is inside me, so? You know what happens next, don’t you?”

You refuse to mention anything about Rita’s pregnancy to Michael for your own reasons.

“Sonny’s still my brother, and I care about him,” you state. “But he has more to deal with when it comes to his marriage. And as to what I did…” You shake your head, “he just needs to get over it.”

“He will,” Michael takes your hand, leading you towards one of the sofas in the office. “It doesn’t mean anything to me anymore.”

“I understand, baby,” you sit next to Michael on the leather sofa, curling up to his side. “I just want my little peace and quiet with you and the babies.”

“Is Vincent asleep?” Michael wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his body.

“Mhmm,” you nod, “fell asleep right away. Wasted no time.”

“I wish we could have said the same for the twins when they were growing up,” Michael chuckles quietly. 

“Same here,” you giggle back. “At least they did when they were newborns.”

“A different story altogether,” Michael adds. “Mm, how do you feel?”

“About?” You feel his hand rubbing up and down your back gingerly. 

“Everything, or just about.”

“I’m alright,” you smile back at your husband. “And I know things will be better. I’m not going to let the last few days dictate to me how I should keep feeling.”

“I’m prepared to put the world to a stop if I need to for you, Victoria,” Michael’s hands begin to massage up and around your shoulders. “You only gave birth a few months ago. I want you to relax.”

“I’ll catch up eventually,” you relax in Michael’s embrace. “With this little one.”

“We missed having a baby around,” Michael kisses the top of your head. “The twins… They’ve grown up already.”

“Very fast,” the blush over your cheeks deepens as Michael kisses both of your hands. 

“I’m proud of them and you,” Michael whispers against your forehead before kissing it.

“I love you so much,” you blush back.

“I love you too,” Michael gives your hands a soft squeeze. “You’re an amazing mother, I want you to know that.”

Your heart skips a beat as you feel Michael’s hand beginning to caress down your chest; his movements growing slower and more tender. 

“And an amazing woman,” Michael nuzzles your neck as you find your fingers clutching onto the fabric of Michael’s dress shirt.

“Michael,” you whisper, tilting your head back to feel the warmth of Michael’s lips planting hot kisses over your neck—inhaling in the scent of your floral perfume.

A shiver goes down your spine from arousal as you feel Michael’s nose brush against your skin. “I want to have another child with you…”

“Already,” your breath hitches as you press your body against Michael’s.

“Whenever you feel ready,” Michael’s hands begin to inch up your blouse.

“Considerate,” you tease back—a whimper escaping your lips from Michael’s hands cupping your breasts.

“Your needs come first, baby,” Michael rubs his fingers over your tender nipples—already hardened from arousal. “I can still please you until it’s over.”

You know Michael’s referring to your period which you got in the middle of the night. “Yes, you can…” You writhe in Michael’s lap. “I… I didn’t lock the door.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Michael begins to inch your blouse up. “I want you here right now.”

“Oh, please,” you buck your hips up in arousal, watching as Michael licks his fingertips and continues massaging your nipples.

“You. Are. Mine.” Michael says between kisses over your breasts. “Only mine.”

“Yes,” your eyes flutter shut as Michael slips your blouse up and off over your head.

From where you both lay on the sofa in Michael’s office, you can see your reflections in a small mirror on the other side of the room; watching the way Michael teases and pleases your body.

“Come here, baby,” Michael’s tongue flickers over your breasts as he massages one and suckles over the other.

You moan loudly, tugging over his hair and feeling his hot tongue over your nipple.

Rolling your eyes back from pleasure, you feel you could cum from this alone—feeling just as horny on your period and willing to take all the alone time you can with Michael, right here and right now.

~

Within the same week, Fredo’s infamous brothel in Las Vegas is officially sold and shut down with the new buyer’s intention to tear the entire building and structure down and build anew.

All is well for the Corleone family who anticipated such for a long time coming; now with no need to worry about the physical reminders of Fredo’s legacy and being involved in the prostitution business by affiliation.

The news of the Corleone family now having no official ties whatsoever to any form of prostitution pleases Don Tattaglia who still seeks to have a monopoly over brothels under his family business; something Michael is more than fine with.

It’s not for another five days until the brothel’s managers realize they aren’t able to contact Rita Duvall in any form—has accounted for all the other women who worked at the brothel to move employment to an unaffiliated, new brothel.  

Rita neither answers her telephone nor writes back. Her neighbors cannot remember the last time they saw her enter her apartment which remains eerily silent.

For the sake of formality and to avoid trouble with the law, the brothel managers file an official missing persons case on behalf of Rita, but from the unamused twinkle in the constable’s eyes at the police station, it was easily understood this investigation wouldn’t be taken seriously or as a priority over a missing prostitute.

It isn’t the first time showgirls, dancers, cocktail waitresses, and prostitutes have gone missing before but especially those who are known by the mafia or have curled up to him are almost always expected to go missing eventually.

It’s either a matter of knowing too much, overhearing something, or being under the suspicion one might snitch or get smart-mouthed towards the mafia which causes mistresses to go missing for good.

Rita isn’t the type to run off for dramatics or disappear for a while nor did the news of the brothel shutting down upset her to do so, but neither the police nor the brothel’s managers expect to find Rita ever again.

Still, it would be something to find Rita’s body at the very least and confirm what happened to her once and for all. Rita’s death would have to be covered up by the police and lied about on every report if it was done by the mafia in which one would truly know if it was done by the hands of a made man or a common killer.

Because the death of many others like Rita is common, there’s no special amount of sympathy felt by anyone on her behalf. Only journalists care about these kinds of cases when it benefits their articles and reports.

At this point in time, it’s been a little while since someone like Rita was reported missing or found dead—leaving a gap in time.

Only once a week passes with no information on Rita, nobody able to contact her, and nothing to pinpoint where she may have gone, what may have happened to her or anything in-between does Luciana’s interest begin to spike up.

Luciana already reported on the brothel shutting down, but it didn’t garner as much attention in the media as she thought.

Although she mentioned Fredo’s name in her article which meant the Corleone family by default and expected some sort of public attention towards it knowing how notorious Fredo’s brothels were when he was actively involved and running them, it appeared that the public was tired of the same old story spun in different ways.

Not only does Rita’s disappearance intrigue Luciana, but the fact that the police, her colleagues, and her employers also stopped caring about her almost immediately beckons for a new report.

Without being explicit or defaming, Luciana’s always been reporting on the drama caused by the mafia and every indulgence they have, especially when it comes to debauchery and luxurious lifestyles.

Since mafiosi are seen as wealthy businessmen outside of the underworld of crime, nothing impacts their reputation, family, or payroll so none come to mind but sometimes even appreciate the light of the media on them. The only exception to this has always been the Tattaglia family.

Tattaglia is the only mafiosi—let alone Don—who considers prostitution a lucrative and important business and because such a business is illegal, Tattaglia pats the city police’s pockets well to keep them in their place and their mouths shut.

Despite suspecting or knowing a fair share herself, Luciana doesn’t care. She takes a neutral stance on everything so as long as it doesn’t impact her directly. Some may even call her selfish for how she couldn’t care less what comes of her colleagues; it’s just one less journalist to compete with.

Luciana also couldn’t care less about the hows and whys of what the crime families do. She’s a reporter and a journalist—all she likes to do is get to the bottom of a good story and deliver.

Luciana remains to be the only journalist at her media outlet that cares about “whore gossip” and “drama scandals” to the point where she’s built her career and reputation on it.

After all, Luciana can be considered a nosy, gossipy person, and growing up she was the first to hear, spread and confirm rumors throughout her high school days that never really faded away when she became an adult.

And despite only speaking with Rita once to be bribed out of reporting a news story on her, Luciana doesn’t consider herself to know Rita personally. All Luciana figures are that Rita, a very popular prostitute and showgirl on stage and behind curtains but not so much in her personal life has gone missing and it’s going to make a hell of a headline.

Luciana’s aware Rita’s always spent her fair share of time with the Barzinis and Tattaglias, so regardless of how Luciana words her headline or chooses to write up a story, it’ll shine the wrong light on the two mafia families which could easily get Luciana and all of her colleagues killed.

Now that their “star girl” Rita Duvall is officially missing, the last thing Luciana will want is any heat on her without implying Rita’s possibly murdered.

For now, Luciana decides to write up an article that’ll only make it look like Rita’s a bad girl gone rogue until Luciana can dig up and discover enough information on what really happened to write up something proper.

‘Without a Trace: Star Showgirl and Performer Rita Duvall Missing?’ Luciana stares at her typewriter, amused by the witty headline she came up with.

It’s only a matter of time until Rita shows up with a bolstered reputation as if she was starting her second act or with a ruined reputation because she disappeared and none cared to find out why. 

It’s that, or the third option; that Rita Duvall is dead.

[melis-writes]

Introducing my next, upcoming multi-chapter, Sonny Corleone x Reader smut fic, coming soon!! 🥰🤞🏻

Mafia Wife.

A very big thank you to all of you who submitted suggestions/ideas for everything related to Gabriella; we even chose her name from popular vote! 🥰💓 Please welcome the OC/Reader persona, none other than Gabriella Giordano. ❤️

Staying as canon as possible to all of the events of The Godfather including the timeline, the only things that change in this fic is the year Sonny gets married (canonically 1935 to Sandra). ✨

Mafia Wife will follow the plot of the first film, showing us Gabriella and Sonny's romance, sex life and growing family. 👀❤️ I named this fic Mafia Wife because that is exactly what Gabriella is down to the core, the to-be wife of a very powerful and influential mafioso. For those of you who are fans/readers of Moth to Flame, you may think of Victoria Corleone as a mafia wife and she indeed is, but the title to this fic has a deeper meaning to Gabriella. There's a difference between being a mafia wife, and then being pulled into the lifestyle of the mafia/being a mafiosa. 😏

“The underboss’s wife”; that’s who you are, and the whispers of enemies, family and colleagues alike know it too. You’re no stranger to the underworld of crime surrounding you including the one run by the Corleone family’s underboss; Santino Corleone. The streets run red with blood and brutality under Santino’s influence but it’s Santino who feels hit by the thunderbolt at the very sight of you—pushing away his womanizing and notorious unfaithfulness. You unexpectedly find yourself in a position of influence balancing your marriage and family ties with the fate of the Corleone’s family’s future whether it be through Santino’s infamous brutality or the love he finds amidst the man he claims to be.

You can expect lots of filthy smut scenes, kinks, but also fluffy romance and wholesomeness. Lots of domestic family life as well as Gabriella and Sonny's family starts and grows. ❤️ Fans of pre-Don college boy Michael can rejoice, and Gabriella x Sonny forever shippers can rest easy knowing Sonny never had his romance with Sandra in this fic! 😂

Everything related to this fic will be tagged as #mafia wife fic. Anything related to Gabriella directly will be tagged under her full name as #Gabriella Giordano. I guess the official ship name is Sonniella! 😅

There will only be one canonical ending to this fic. 👁️👁️ After the first smut scene is posted, I'm willing to take in prompt requests for Gabriella x Sonny! That being said, I'm still/always taking in Sonny x Reader (general reader) too! And yes, I will not forget about Victonny. 🤭

I anticipate to have the first chapter of Mafia Wife up and posted in a week or two, but I always hope to write it up sooner. 😅💓 Can’t wait to share it with you guys and hear all your feedback! 😍