Taken By The Mafia Lord

108 She Wasn’t Prettier Than His Chihuahua

There wasn’t a smile on Clara’s face as she applied the last touch of lipstick to her already dark red lips. She had been having the best time of her life with Luther only for Marcel’s people to come and disrupt it.

Clara snorted, he even had the nerve to send her flowers. As if that would win her over to his side, she scoffed.

All they told her was for her to get prepared because she was escorting Marcel to a funeral. Clara didn’t know who died – although she wished it had been Marcel- she had a feeling that her father-in-law, Daniel, would be there. Marcel always comes looking for her because he needed her to deal with him. The man surprisingly likes her.

Truthfully speaking, after her last encounter at his place, Clara was now scared of that man. No, she was scared of all of them. If Daniel had treated his late wife badly, who knows how Marcel would treat her? He even promised to give her a living hell at their last meeting.

But then, Clara knew her case would be different. For sure, Marcel would never love them and they’ve already discussed their boundaries in their so-called marriage, but, Clara would never be maltreated.

Unlike Marcel’s mother who was a nobody and had no backbone to support and shield her against Daniel’s often violent outburst of anger, Clara was an Alberta and though her family wasn’t as powerful as the Luciano, they were influential and could pose enough damage while going head-on with them in a war.

In one word, Clara was secured as far as she doesn’t let Marcel be the patriarch of the family when they get married – and that would never be as far as she was alive. He would never inherit the family’s riches.

And for the flowers he sent, she already had the staff get rid of them. Who knows what he did to it? Even he didn’t do anything to it, just the mere thought of seeing those flowers that reminded her of him, did nothing but anger her the more. She didn’t need his mockery of an apology.

As someone who grew up with wealth, Clara’s beauty was unblemished. However, she put more attention into her dressing today, not because she was trying to show off to Marcel and get his attention, not that he would compliment her anyway.

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But she was a public figure and can’t look bad on camera. She didn’t know where the service would be held and if there would be the presence of the media – she highly doubted that – but it was worth it to prepare for the rainy days.

Moreover, her look and body language was the only weapon she had. Just a look at her and one could tell she’s a noblewoman and can’t be messed with. Also, those low lives – Marcel and his gang – had to know they were dealing with a member of the upper class.

So Clara threw more attention to her face and her blue eyes by teasing her roots and gathering her brown hair back into a sleek and straight ponytail. The style was the perfect combination of volume and sleekness.

She then wore a long-sleeved black body con dress with fur trims, complete with silver embellished leather heeled sandals. Clara left her throat bare showing off those attractive collarbones but wore matching stone studded danglers and completed it with her dark aviator glasses.

In the end, Clara injected extra elegance into her style like a fashion pro. On her way down, she kept receiving praises from her staff who claimed she looked like a goddess.

Clara was pleased with the praise, which meant the purpose of her dressing up this way was working. So she walked with her head held up to the lawn where Marcel’s ride was already waiting for her.

The chauffeur got out and held the door open for her and even before she got into that car, Clara sensed Marcel’s gaze on her.

It got so intense that even after she was seated comfortably, Marcel still hasn’t taken his eyes off her, and the worst part? She couldn’t tell if he was blown away by her beauty like the others or scorning her inwardly.

Clara sighed, taking her glasses, “You can just tell me I look pretty than boring a hole in my head,” She was proud of her handwork.

“How would the family of the deceased perceive your condolences when you look like you just stepped out of a fashion magazine?” Marcel dropped the question that left her stunned.

“What?” Clara couldn’t understand what he meant by that and when she finally did, she rolled her eyes towards heaven. What was she even expecting from him anyway? That he would notice her?

“That’s their cup of tea, it’s not my fault that I’m wealthy,” She said, looking away.

It wasn’t even a minute and the tension between them had already begun to stretch. She was right, he was not even worth her attention. Not that she needed his attention anyway.

Marcel didn’t say anything and only shook his head with a sigh. He was not against her dressing up well – he was wearing a suit – but it was over the top. It was just a simple condolence visit to the family of the deceased, nobody was going there to show off. He was going to compensate the family of his men that died as a result of Elijah’s vendetta.

The main funeral was for the Caporegime he lost. Soon enough, another member would be promoted to take his place, yet it was a big loss and other members of the gang would be present to pay their respects.

A Caporegime is the head of a branch of the gang who commands a crew of soldiers and reports directly to Marcel, the boss.

“Nonetheless, you’re pretty,”

Clara’s head whipped around so fast she almost snapped her head when she heard that.

She turned to Marcel with shock, “Did you just say something? I thought I heard you say I’m pretty,”

However, Marcel’s response to her question was to pick the magazine by his side and flip it open. Clara must be out of her mind to think he would say that twice. She wasn’t even prettier than Redhead, his chihuahua.

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Note – The typical structure within the Mafia is usually as follows; The Boss of all bosses; the underboss, second in command; consigliere, the adviser to the boss of a crime family; Caporegime, known as a captain; Soldato – Also known as a soldier, is the lowest level of mobster or gangster; Associate – a person who is not a soldier in a crime family, but works for them and shares in the execution of and profits from the criminal enterprise.