AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My father's approving gaze reminds me of my role tonight as the dutiful son, the heir apparent who must shine but never outshine.
"La tua presenza ci onora," – Your presence honors us – I continue, voice dipped in honeyed respect, yet laced with the steel of command that is expected of me.
"Ah, Dario." Marco emerges from the crowd, fidgeting with his mask. I smile when I notice he too has chosen a domino mask, his scar on full display. "You've been held up here long enough. There are old friends pining for your attention."
"Give me a moment, Marco," I say, placing a hand on my father's shoulder. "Tornerò presto." – I shall return shortly.
"Go, Son," my father replies from behind his Roman warrior mask. The barest hint of a smile touching his thin lips. "Show them a good time, let them want for nothing and remind them of the unshakeable strength of the Marchettis."
I nod, out of habit, and walk away. What is the point in explaining to my father that my longtime friends don’t care for the things the older generation values? All we respect is our friendship.
As I walk away, Marco falls into step beside me. It's evident that my mask is no barrier to recognition; I am known, feared, and respected. Some who know me well dare to greet me, others part for us, whispering in our wake.
"Marco, this charade..." I muse aloud, my thoughts turning to the necessity of appearances.
"Every masquerade is a game of identity, Dario. But we play it better than most," Marco observes. "When it comes to taking one for La Familia, I can think of worse examples."
"True enough," I concede with a chuckle, while scanning the room. Old friends beckon with raised glasses, their smiles wide but their eyes sharper. They know the weight of my name, the legacy it carries. And I hate to admit it to myself, but they are well aware what an honor it is to be here as my friend.
"Signor Marchetti, always a pleasure," an old compatriot greets me, his handshake firm, his allegiance written in the bow of his head.
"Likewise, Lorenzo. I trust the evening finds you well?" I inquire warmly. The man before, who showed up in a badger disguise, is a good man, a rare gift.
"Better now," he responds, his chuckle genuine. "How are things faring here?"
I look around myself sharply, then pull Lorenzo in closer by the shoulders. "I need eyes and ears everywhere. We have a mole amongst our ranks. Our shipments are being stolen and the thieves know everything, from the routes we take, to the times the drivers rest."
"Caro Signore" – Dear Lord – he gasps.
"Can I count on your assistance?" I ask.
"I'll get my trusted guys on it. If I learn anything, I shall come straight to you."
"You're a good friend," I mutter, and we part ways.
While this night is meant for pleasure, shop talk cannot be avoided. My father has placed his trust in me and I will not disappoint him.
Marco and I join my old friends, some of whom went to university with me, and we raise a toast, ready to let the celebrations begin. Amongst this crowd, I feel alive, young and carefree.
Through the throng of silk-clad shoulders and colorful masks, I catch a glimpse of something—or rather, someone—who seizes my attention like a mouse does a cat.
She's a vision amidst the sea of opulence, a creature clad in black lace that clings to her curvy bodice and flows down her arms like shadows welcoming midnight.
Her mask is an intricate web of jet beads and feathers, but it's her jade-green eyes that arrest me. They burn with a fierce intelligence—a challenge.
A challenge I’ve met before, Jasmine!
I contain my surprise, always weary of the eyes watching me. What is she doing here?
"Isn't she stunning?" one of my friends, wearing a Venetian jester mask, murmurs at my side, following my gaze.
"Like a diamond among glass pebbles," I say, my voice a low hum, as I imagine peeling away each layer of that tantalizing dress. Her breasts, two half crescents already beckon me.
I feel my cock throb, as I watch her stand there unmoving, allowing me to undress her with my eyes alone.
She's dressed daringly. I wonder why? Is she trying to impress someone? Perhaps someone she came with?
The thought of her coming here with another man makes my blood boil. I feel sheer, carnal jealousy.
