Chapter 13: Wildest Dreams
Disclaimer: I forgot to mention that some of the plot points in this book are based on the comics, not just the DC movies and the Harley Quinn tv series. One murder scene in this chapter definitely didn't come from me.
Trigger warnings: Sexual content and gore
A/N: Go easy on me, guys. I am an amateur at this. I had to read some smut fics just to figure out how to put this in writing. My face is flushed red just by writing this. You may have guessed why I had taken so long to update the story. I don't approve of any of these scenarios, but this is Roman Sionis, we're talking about. Everything he does is against our morals. Anyway, on with the chapter...
...
He didn't know how it happened, or when it started. No. That wasn't exactly true. Roman remembered waking up from a nightmare like every other night. The alcohol was supposed to relax the mind, but it wasn't medicine. In fact, it gave him a splitting headache and an upset stomach the next day.
Last night wasn't eventful but it ended with him giddy instead of paranoid. Why? He had finally eaten something that didn't kill him. His appetite satiated by the bloody show Victor Zsasz had performed in the warehouse. Roman wished he was there to see Penguin's expression when he opens the package and sees Bryan's face inside. Revenge was indeed sweet.
Roman's high spirits slowly descended by her taunting laughs and raking nails in his sleep. She haunted him, worse than Penguin's poison stunt. Without saying the words in person, she promised to haunt him for the rest of his days, even in hell.
He believed to have woken up from that nightmare, sitting upright with his legs hanging over the bed's edge. A cold grip tightened around his forearm, forcing him to gasp and look over his shoulder.
He saw her. She looked the same as their last meeting - emotionally drained to nothing. Her eyes contained the color of spring, but they were brutal like a winter storm. Her ruby nails dug into his skin, streaking red as it traveled towards his wrist. It didn't hurt. He couldn't feel her. This was another tedious nightmare, after all. Before it could end for real, she had a few parting words for Roman. The tendons on her face stretched as her bloody teeth shined in the light.
"I'll be back, Romy-baby," she whispered before releasing a cackle that woke the man up. What a surprise. Two nightmares in a row. How did Roman get so lucky? He was fortunate to sleep in for once without interruptions. He had told Zsasz not to bug him unless it was a life-threatening emergency.
As he laid on his left side, Roman's ears perked by the sound of clicking heels and shifting objects behind him. He bolted upright, expecting the same woman from his dreams. He was surprised again to see her setting a silver tray of food on his nightstand. He couldn't see what she made for there was a lid on top.
Maria? No. Mindy?
"Mia. My name is Mia."
"Mia," he tested the name once more. Roman did like the name - quick and easy to remember.
Mia's eyes widened in fright, quickly stepping back and showing her hands, assuring him that she meant no harm. He didn't need to ask what she was doing here. She was supposed to be cleaning, but what did he do to earn breakfast in bed? He could make a list.
"Mr. Sionis, hi," she whispered sheepishly. Her eyes trained between him and the door, debating whether to stay put or run for her life. He could've easily laughed at that.
"I'm sorry. I don't-didn't mean to wake you-" Sionis raised his hand to silent her with a question.
"What do you got there?" Roman should be asking why she was here uninvited, but he didn't bother. His home needed some love and attention, and Cinderella was the perfect girl to do it.
Mia blinked, averting her eyes to the tray. She approached the nightstand to lift the lid off the tray, revealing breakfast: poached egg, French toast, fruit yogurt, and a cocktail drink on the side.
"I know you wanted to watch me cook, but you told everyone not to wake you. But don't worry," she assured him with haste. "Mr. Zsasz watched me."
"No. No. It's fine," Roman dismissed her excuses by shaking his head and motioning her to come closer. "Bring it over."
Mia obliged, carrying the tray carefully around the bed and onto Roman's lap. He rubbed his hands together, cutting the egg open with a spoon. He ate the first bite and moaned in satisfaction, his pressed mouth stretched at the sight of her face. She was relieved to please her boss.
"Mm - baby, you really outdid yourself."
"It's my pleasure," she curtsied like a maid respecting her king. "Anything for you, Mr. Sionis. I hope you had a good night's sleep, last night."
Roman clenched his eyes shut, tensing his face. The last thing he wanted was to talk about the nightmare - nightmares. Mia caught on before he could correct her.
"I-I guess I should get started on cleaning then. I hope you enjoy your breakfast."
Roman opened his eyes to watch her leave, only to stop her when he spotted something significant on the woman's blue tank top.
"Whoa. Whoa. Whoa, what do you have on your shirt?"
"Wha..." Mia looked down to see what he was talking about. "Oh, that - it-it's nothing. It's just a grease stain." She turned to leave, "I'll finish up with the cleaning and leaf-leave you to your breakfast."
"Hold it," Roman commanded, seeing the girl tense up on cue. "I can't let you go downstairs looking like that. What would my people think?"
Mia opened her mouth, but no words came out. She honestly didn't know how to respond to his logic. So naive and so deluded into believing that this wasn't a big deal. He ushered her to open the closet and find a shirt to change into. She found a black T-Shirt that was two sizes bigger than her.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Sionis. I'll make sure to bring-"
"Put it on," he commanded deeply. His eyes descended to her frame. The girl quickly averted his gaze to the shirt that she was holding. Mia whispered 'okay'. He expected her to go inside the closet or bathroom to change, but instead, she discarded her tank in front of him, revealing a lace black bra. His eyes widened in midbite of his toast, didn't expect such a bold move.
She bit her bottom lip, keeping up with the shy demeanor as she lifted the shirt to cover her bare torso.
"You wanted to keep your eyes on me at all times, right?" she asked in a whisper. "You still don't trust me."
Her words were a buzz in Roman's mind. He was too busy recreating the image of her body as she put on the shirt. She didn't have heavy cleavage, unlike most women he acquainted. With some implants, she won't be compared to a stick bug. His breath hitched and his legs crossed at the choice of bra she was wearing. Despite her innocence, she looked naughty in black. He wondered if her panties matched. Had the fiancé seen her in this sultry state before? No, he didn't wish to think about the boy, right now.
"I know my body is the last thing you want to see..."
His ears finally perked at the self-conscious words. How could she say that? Did she own a mirror? She possessed a face of an angel and the talent of a fictional princess.
Before she could apologize to him for the umpteenth time, he set the tray on the bed and swung his legs over the edge, motioning her to come; she obliged.
Ignoring his better judgment, a hand ran up her skinny jeans, taking note of how toned her thighs looked. He couldn't imagine what her butt was like until he turned her to the side. He took back the comment about her not being curvy - not too big but it showed that she had been working out. He didn't see the girl's reaction as he cupped her hip nor cared. He owned her, after all.
"Your breakfast is getting cold," she acknowledged in a pouty whisper.
"Yeah..."
"Aren't you hungry?"
"Starving," the truth slipped past his lips without thought. Roman turned her hips so she was facing him.
"If you don't like eggs, I could make you something else," she offered.
Roman chuckled, moisturizing his dry lips with his tongue. Mia was adorable. "No need, you already brought what I've been craving for," he tugged the shirt she was wearing, silently indicating what he was implying.
"Oh," the girl was reluctant, laughing as well but from nerves. She knew they shouldn't be doing this. She even voiced out her concerns to him, but he challenged her, daring her to say the two-lettered word. She didn't object after that. Whatever the boss wanted, Mia must oblige whether she was willing participant or not.
Her fingers fiddled with the button on her jeans only to have Roman slap them away to yank down her pants himself. She gasped at the sudden breeze, chill bumps coating her skin. He pulled her onto his lap and cupped her face to devour her lips. He pushed the strands of hair out of the way. He wanted to see her eyes that darkened with lust and hunger, her parted mouth that begged to be kissed, her flushed cheeks. She was the mirror image of him. She wanted this too, despite the lack of words.
He slipped the T-Shirt off her, licking his dry lips at the sight of her bra and small belly. He couldn't help but roam his hands all over to memorize the texture of her skin. Her breath hitched as his fingers lowered to her mound.
"Please..." she uttered. He didn't exactly understand the meaning behind that word. Please, keep going? Please, be gentle? It's clear that she hadn't done this before, but once, he plucks the flower within her, she wouldn't only thank him but come back and beg for more like the others before her.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered. Her eyes widened at the statement. She clenched her fists into his crimson shirt. Her shoulders tensed as she felt his fingers slip inside her panties. Mia grabbed his wrist as if to pull his hand away. Roman wasn't offended for he knew it was the anxiety.
He simply chuckled and kissed her ear, "Relax, baby. You're going to love it."
Sure enough, he circled the bundle of nerves between her legs. He watched his maid come undone. She let out a keen cry, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and trying to match the rhythm of his fingers.
He closed his eyes to embrace the wet tightness, her warm breath against his face, and her rocking hips that craved more contact with him.
Roman ceased his movement and furrowed his brows when he felt neither of those things. He grasped her throat and squeezed, but didn't feel the rapid pulse, the struggle, nor hear the familiar plea for mercy.
"Mr. Sionis?" she asked in a whisper, raking her fingers through her hair. "Is everything all right?"
The man simply laid back on the bed and huffed.
It was all a dream. Two nightmares and a dream. Again, how did he get so lucky?
Roman didn't believe in fate. Sometimes dreams don't have meanings. He discarded them like trash. He had done some nasty things in the past that haunted his sleep - some, he did for the good of Gotham. Most were to protect his interests. If he were to take over this city, sacrifices must be made.
His dream about her, however, didn't make any sense. Why would he stoop so low into fucking a maid? More like, why did he take the time to pleasure her when she should be pleasuring him? And say the cheesiest lines that only come from a poorly-written, erotic novel?
Roman couldn't look at her in the eye when she returned with his permission. They exchanged greetings, but the rest of the time remained awkwardly silent, which was fine.
The girl did ask how he was doing, but Roman insisted that he was fine.
'I am fine,' he repeated in his mind.
It was just a one-time thing - a passing thought. He would soon forget about her once Rosalie returns to work.
...
Roman tried to shift his focus on finding a qualified cook to work for him. Tupeng brought in some applicants with 'potential'. However, Roman didn't picture any of them working here. It wasn't their looks that bugged him (maybe a little), but their passion. All they cared about was the salary than making his business a success.
Roman ended the day with more drinking at The Spotlight. There was dancing and chatting. The crime lord believed he was on top of the world until he woke up Tuesday morning with a pounding headache and another upset stomach. The antihistamine, the burning sage, and ginger ale from last night didn't help.
He thought a shower could decrease the muscle tention and stabilize his body's temperature. Little did he know, the effects became the opposite.
A door clicked shut, and a set of hands ran across his shoulders.
"Surprise," she whispered, kissing the base of his neck. He didn't have to look at her to know that she was smiling at him from behind. He turned around and grasped her throat, pushing her against the tiled wall.
The naked woman gasped, instinctively gripped his wrists, but didn't put up a fight, which surprised Roman.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded in clenched teeth, more frustrated than angry. His pupils dilated as he observed the dazed look on her face. He tried his best not to look down.
She chocked each word out in slow, airy breaths, "You... You ordered me... to come."
His reply was a simple squeeze to the neck. Her mouth parted, and her begging eyes widened as he stepped closer. His nose grazed her cheek, his snarl remained.
"I'm... I'm sorry... miss - Mister - Mr. Sionis. It's mine - my fault... You want me."
The words alone rattled the man as he inhaled the spicy aroma on her skin. It opened his senses and stimulated the blood flow, mostly the painful throb between his thighs. He withdrew his hands and stepped back, watching her cough and gag for air. She rubbed the soreness and possible bruises around her throat.
Roman ran his fingers through his soaked strands, trying to wrap his mind around why this was happening. He was tempted to pinch himself awake.
But he couldn't bring himself to do it.
Not yet.
"You're right," He uttered deeply, his darkened eyes coated goosebumps over the woman's skin. "This is your fault."
She nodded in admission, casting her eyes down on the tile floor.
"Hey," he spoke louder, ordering her to look at him when he was talking. "You did this to me," he gestured the hard rod pointing straight at her. "So get over here and do something about it."
She did as he commanded with a quivering lip and watery eyes. She tried to toy him at first by lingering her lips over his and raking her nails over his chest, searching for a heartbeat - a reminder that Roman Sionis was born human.
He squeezed her wrist, prying her hand off his skin. She whimpered in response. This was his dream. He was in control, not her.
"I'm in no mood for ga..." His breath hitched as her free hand stroked his length. Up and down. Squeeze and release. For a virgin, she seemed to know what she's doing. Then again, this was a dream. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. The water poured down his front and the girl's hair and back. His chest heaved in a rapid rhythm matching the pattern of her touch.
"How am I doing, Mr. Sionis?" she quietly asked. Her voice didn't overpower the rapid beating on the tile floor.
His eyes cracked open to see his minx's parted mouth, the mixture of tears and water running down her face. It wasn't enough. He needed more. The girl squealed at the sudden tight grip in her hair, instinctively put her hand over his. Even if she struggled, her strength wasn't compared to his.
"You fuckin' tease," he yanked her down on the floor, having her kneel before him. Her face leveled with his erection. It didn't take a genius to figure out what the frustrated man wanted from her. One little word was all it took to put her mouth to work.
Roman imagined the warmth of her mouth, her tongue swirling around his rod and the tip, the vibrations of her vocal cords as she struggled to take him deeper. He could visualize her tears as he clenched his fist into her hair and shoved his hips in punishing strokes. He could hear her choke for air and muffled groans from the constant, painful stabbing in the back of her throat. He grunted and squeezed his eyes as he felt it. The pressure increased with every stroke. He was close.
People might think Roman was a sadist for forcing this on the girl. If Roman hadn't gone through what he had gone through in the past, he would've agreed with them. However, Roman Sionis didn't believe himself to be insane. He was simply a sophisticated man with beastly urges. This was no different from the others before her.
Eventually, the water cooled his skin and washed his seed down the drain. Roman found himself alone again.
This wasn't normal for him, having sexual fantasies with a maid. Why was this happening to him? Why her? He couldn't find any other way to express his emotions, other than slamming his fist against the stone wall, until his wrist swelled and knuckles bled.
"Fuckin! Fuck!" he cried more in pain and regret than anger.
Roman planned to punish her without explanation, blame her for injuring his hand and planting those unholy thoughts in his head. One word to Zsasz, and he would hang the girl upside down and slice her face off - no problem.
All that was forgotten, however, when she returned that following morning in a black tank top and the same cheery greeting as before.
"Good morning, Mr. Sionis. How are you today?"
She left him with a clean house, a cooked meal, and a bag of ice for his hand. She didn't need to ask how he injured it nor acknowledged it. Mia did point out that the city was enduring a heat wave this week, and ice and water with electrolytes could prevent dehydration or a possible heat stroke. Of course, her boss knew that because "You are smart man, Mr. Sionis." Those words alone heightened the man's spirit. He accepted the ice without a word.
...
Roman wanted to take his mind off work and focus on the party downstairs. To think he should know by now where that night could go - ginger ale and sage. Both solutions that soon became an illusion just like waking up to see his maid sleeping and bleeding naked on his bed. He wasn't the one to touch someone else's blood, let alone receive a vampire facial. Again, how long will these sick fantasies last?
His hair combed to his perfection. His signature gloves covered the evidence of his injury. Now he must pick a suit that's fitted best for the occasion. He didn't know why, but he was in the mood for something colorful - perhaps gold or maybe red.
"Paintings and sculptures are not-nothing compared to the real and-and the most handsome thing." Her words replayed in Roman's mind as he closed his eyes and pictured the girl approaching him to fix the buttons on his jacket. He didn't miss how her eyes trained on his chest, specifically the hairs underneath the clothing, just like their first meeting.
After sealing the final button, she lovingly rubbed his cheek and whispered her love for him. Roman leaned for a kiss only to feel empty again. The dream alone was so sweet it almost made his teeth hurt.
Making his final decision, regarding the outfit and limited color scheme, he settled for a low-cut grey T-shirt with a white suit jacket and matching pants.
Roman greeted and socialized with everyone in the club, taking samples and shots from the tray girls. The man was no longer afraid to take a drink, not without Zsasz taking the first cup. He enjoyed his songbird's soothing voice. What was she singing? He had no idea nor cared. His brain became lax around 1:00AM.
He couldn't recall the entire night in detail, especially when his body eventually joined the mind, going completely numb. He could've sworn that he saw Mia's parted mouth and closed eyes, hearing her moan his name that sent shivers down his back.
'Shame that it's just another dream. I would've loved to see her bind to my bed.'
"Mia. Oh God, Mia..."
He didn't know until the next day that it wasn't a dream.
There lied a sleeping woman in his bed, naked and tangled in his black sheets, unfortunately, not handcuffed to his bedpost as he fantasized. Her hair was bronde just like hers... Was she...
He pushed the strands out of the woman's face, letting out a breath of relief but feeling internally disappointed at the same time. This woman was older, possibly in her mid-thirties. Whether or not he had sex with this woman was out of the question. He could smell the odor and feel the sticky secretion between his legs.
"Ew."
Roman admitted to having one night stands before. Most of the time, he could remember the intercourse, unlike Bruce Wayne who probably forgets the name and ditches the person all together, so would Roman, who - unlike Bruce 'Fuckin' Wayne - had a real job to do that didn't involve standing around and looking pretty. The fact that Roman had a little too much to drink up to the point that he didn't remember greeting this stranger and having sex with her was out of his element. It seemed that his little mer-maid was taking control of the steering wheel and was driving him over the edge of his sanity. This wasn't okay and must be remedied, right after, he cleaned up and put on fresh clothes.
Apparently, a gentle shake and saying, "Excuse me, ma'am, but you have to get the fuck out" wasn't enough. Pulling the woman off the bed by her hair did the trick.
"What the hell?!" The woman was now wide awake but scrambled. She didn't seem too happy with the wake up call, and Roman didn't understand why. It wasn't his fault that she didn't have ears after he told her twice to get up and leave. If anyone should be upset, it was Roman Sionis for having to get up and drag the whore out of his bed himself.
"My apologies, Miss..." Roman paused to remember the foggy details of last night, unsuccessfully.
"You didn't ask for my name," the woman replied in a dry tone. "And I don't expect you to remember what happened last night, you did look pretty wasted," she ducked under the bed for her dress and shoes.
"Hey, I didn't ask for your assessment of the situation," Roman opened a cap to pour himself a drink. He didn't bother to offer one for the lady. "I think the bigger question is, what did you remember, last night?"
"That you came by the bar, interrupting my conversation with the girls, asking me to dance with you; we did. Then you offered me a drink, a tour of your collection, your associate's creepy stare as we stumbled up here, and your dick (in that particular order)."
He let out a laugh but his brow twitched, silently taking great offense to her tone and direct insult to Mr. Zsasz. Who did this whore think she was to come up here and act like a spoiled brat? If anything, she should be grateful to have the honor of sharing his bed for the night.
"I really hope I was in the right mind to ask you this," Roman forced a sickly grin, "but in case, I didn't... do I need to worry about getting a STD?"
The woman let out a gasp, "Did you just... Are you kidding me?" She shook her head, couldn't believe the audacity, "Do you ask every woman that after masturbating in front of them for a half an hour?"
Roman blinked and finally looked her way to see the physical similarities between her and Mia, "Masturbating? You mean, you and I... we didn't-"
"Thankfully, neither of us need to go to the clinic, today."
"Surely, we made out before taking off-"
"We didn't kiss, either. We skipped the foreplay, ready to fuck, until you..." she let out a snort in amusement, "until you aimed and missed, fucking the mattress instead."
'She's not laughing at me, is she?' Roman's eyes darkened and narrowed, while his breathing pattern changed.
"I never miss," Roman said more defensively than he intended. "I knew what I was doing. I just don't want your herpes or whatever the fuck you have."
"I don't have a disease, you asshole! Even if I did, what does it matter? You were wasted and fucked a mattress for God's sake!"
"Yet, you didn't seem to mind it," he argued. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have mistaken me for your husband and my home as a hotel suite."
The woman's eyes automatically cast down to the wedding band around her finger, fiddling it out of habit - a bad habit, Roman believed. Her face showed remorse, but her words let out a pathetic excuse to cheat, "It's complicated."
"I'm sure it is," Roman tipped his head back, swallowing his drink in three gulps. "Look, lady, I don't judge. Whether or not you two are swingers is your fuckin' business."
She rolled her eyes on cue - another disrespectful gesture.
"But right now, you've outstayed your welcome," he pointed at the door. "I have a guest coming over and a lot of work to do, so you need to leave."
"I'm going," the woman insisted, zipping the back of her dress as much as she could.
"Good, just take the back entrance on your way out. 'Kay?"
"Whatever," her back was facing Roman. "The last thing I want is to be interrogated by your girlfriend."
Roman could feel his heart beating fast at the last two words, "What makes you think I have a girlfriend?"
"I don't," she uttered in boredom. "It's none of my fuckin' business or anything, but this Mia chick seems pretty special if you are calling another woman by that name over and over again, especially when you're fucking a mattress. Is that why you gave me the mask tour, because she's the only one who's interested?"
Mia. Roman didn't forget that she was coming over - that's beside the point. This woman had the nerve to insult his trinkets and was now aware of his secret. If she were to repeat that name to another, then everyone would know that Roman Sionis had a weakness, putting himself and the girl in danger. Again, this was becoming a problem that must be remedied.
He extended an arm at the woman's direction, looking straight in her eyes as he stated his warning, "Not a word about her to anyone. Do you hear me? Not a sound or I will-"
"Wait a minute..." the woman's lips curled, showing off her teeth. "Does this Mia girl know about your feelings for her?"
"Enough," he commanded in a low authoritative tone.
"Oh my God!" a snort escaped her mouth, shifting into laughter. "She doesn't, does she?"
"That's none of your fuckin' business!"
"Aww, you're blushing, that's so cute!"
"I've already warned you. Shut up," his grip tightened around the glass, coming close to breaking it in pieces. He could feel his pulse raising, the vein in his neck popping was laughing at him.
"Does she have a boyfriend? Is that why you haven't made a move, yet, or did she reject you already?"
The woman may have looked a bit like Mia, but she could never be her. It's bad enough that she ridiculed him in his own home, but now she was laughing at him, just like she did. It's clear that her husband lacked structure and discipline, allowing his wife to run over him and be unfaithful. He required a dominant to teach him how to wield a strong hand. Who better way to accomplish that task than Roman Sionis?
"She's pretty smart if she did - to know just how pathetic you truly are!"
'No, she doesn't,' the man silently argued, recalling the girl's compliments from before.
"You are a smart man, Mr. Sionis. Paintings and sculptures are not-nothing compared to the real and-and the most handsome thing. You are my boss. I don't want to - I could never hurt you."
Roman Sionis was her boss.
"I mean, I can see why your dad fired your ass in his own company! Jeez, how embarrassing!"
"Shut up."
"Shame that I had played a part in this. What's next on your agenda? You gonna gift another girl with Mia's perfume, if she wears any, and try to reenact another sexual fantasy with her. I mean, what could be more pathetic than that?"
"I told you to shut the fuck up!" Roman could see it now. He could see himself yanking the woman's hair, once more, and dragging her onto the bed. He was torn between laughing, screaming, or crying as he pressed a pillow against her face. He could feel her fight beneath him and hear her cries for a rescue that wouldn't come.
He could've done all that, but didn't.
"Let go of me!" The woman circled her arm out of his grip and hurried out the door. Roman didn't chase after her. In fact, he was about to offer her a ride home if it wasn't for his temper scaring her away. He called Zsasz, allowing the mask to shatter in his presence.
"That stupid bitch laughed at me and threatened my mer-maid! We have to do something!"
Zsasz tilted his head in curiosity, a smile creeping across his face, "You want me to bring her back, boss?"
"Better!" Roman drank another shot of whiskey, slamming the glass on the dresser. "Fetch her and her husband - make sure he gets a free ticket to the show, right here in this club. Now! Before it's too late!"
"And if he doesn't come quietly?"
"Oh-ho-ho, trust me, Mr. Zsasz," Roman whispered, approaching the man. "He'll come if it guarantees his wife's safety."
Zsasz raised a brow at the choice of words,"If?"
Roman's teary eyes and snarling demeanor cracked; both exchanged a round of mischief. If was indeed a strong word.
Unfortunately, they couldn't have the show right away with good reason. The boss's mood improved once his little mermaid returned.
The man behaved himself, doing his best not to act on his fantasy with the girl who was perspiring from a hot stove. A normal human being would be disgusted by sweat. It was abnormal for rich crime lords like himself to set foot in a kitchen. Now, Roman Sionis saw sweat as an opportunity to see Mia's skin glow, shining like an angel that she was.
Zsasz advised Roman numerous times to watch his back. Mia did work for a cheater, after all. Roman did watch her through the security footage and saw her true colors. One time, he had caught Mia helping the supply vendors carry boxes and jugs inside the club. Girls shouldn't be doing any heavy lifting, but this one didn't care. Mia wanted to help the unfortunate just as much as she wanted to help her rich boss. That was the comfort Roman needed to lock his gun away.
When she asked the age-old question, for the first time in a while, he spoke the truth.
"Not so good, Mia," he stated her name slowly on purpose. The name was quick and easy, and he wanted to embrace it just as much as her spicy aroma. "It feels like the whole world is turning against me - everyone!"
He was oblivious to the soulless pair of eyes watching him in the shadows.
"I see..."
"Whenever I offer something good, they just throw it back in my face - laughing at me! God, I want them to stop laughing at me! That's The Joker's thing, not mine!" Roman picked up his cup, ready to throw it across the kitchen.
"Mr. Sionis, please."
He felt her fingertips on his knuckles that's resting on the counter. Her touch was timid, but it stopped him from wasting glass. Zsasz stepped out of the shadows to intervene only to observe his boss's reaction. The creases on Roman's face softened. His eyes try to meet hers only for Mia to shyly avert his gaze and pull her hand away.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"For what?" he challenged. She opened her mouth to respond. "Look at me." Unlike the whore, his maid obeyed without hesitation.
"This - all of it - everything," Mia inhaled a gasp, trying to keep her voice from trembling. "I'm sorry that nobody is nice to you. I wish I could help - do something - anything to make it all stop for you."
'You've done enough for me already, Mia,' yet, the man didn't say it out loud. "Yeah, well, you can't."
Mia pushed the loose strands of hair back behind her ear, admittedly shaking her head, "Nobody can - but-but my guidance counselor once told me that you alone - you can't control anyone's actions, only hold - only you can hold the remote to your own - control your own actions."
Her sentence structure was a mess, but the man understood the meaning crystal clear. One kiss. He could kiss her right here and now as a reward for trying to make him feel better. Mia was right about one thing. Only he had the remote to control his own destiny, but he also had the power to seal someone else's fate.
He didn't tell her about his crimes nor the upcoming show in the club. He didn't mention Zsasz planning to peel off another man's face then serve his eyeballs on a plate for the cheating wife to eat. It might seem traumatizing and a bit over the top, but it's necessary. This wasn't about self-preservation anymore. He had to protect his little mermaid by showing the world not to mess with Roman Sionis.
...
Roman didn't think he had won something extraordinary at the Iceberg Lounge. He had thought the maid substitution was temporary. He had never thought to expand his black and white color scheme. He once believed a bull's cooking and blood could satisfy his hunger - that sage was his only cure for headaches. If some famous chef had told him that walking into a kitchen could bring a healthy glow to his skin, Roman wouldn't believe him.
Now he had reached the end of the grieving process.
Acceptance.
The woman before Mia became a distant memory. The little mermaid didn't know that she had chased his ghost away. The way she smiled at him when he awarded her answers. How her long legs crossed the invisible line. How her skin shined in the light as she prepped his meal. Roman couldn't forget the times she had worn black just for him. What part of the woman's body grabbed his attention the most? The answer was none of the above.
Roman Sionis could fuck any pretty girl in the club, he wanted, specifically guests. He could bend Mia over the kitchen counter and pound her like mating dog, and she wouldn't dare to object. One thing that Roman could never forget about Mia was her obedience and her scent that now stained his pillow. Sure, there was Kylie. She could've been a good replacement if she wasn't so selfishly needy and whiney. Despite the complaints he had against her, Roman still kept her around to avoid a discrimination lawsuit. Fortunately, Kylie's recklessness was his ticket to her enforce dismissal.
Speaking of leaving, Tupeng announced that Rosalie would resume her duties on Sunday. In two days, Mia could no longer be here as another trusted companion but as (he forgot her original duty) a night server. She must hide her sweet face and luscious waves from him, could no longer hear her troublesome task to form a proper sentence. Soon, he would forget about the sweet dreams of them making love for the first time. She would just be another memory, bringing the old siren back to haunt him again. His future reality sickened him just as much as the ring sitting on the counter.
Roman slid his tea cup across the counter, purposely creating a screech for her attention. Mia immediately ceased her scrubbing task to ask if he needed more coffee.
"I do," he confirmed.
"Yes, sir, Mr. Sionis. Right away." Just like that, she dropped the sponge in the sink to grab that pot of coffee for him.
Again, she risked her pretty face with essential questions, not just about his needs but about his collection. After spending time in his condo, she now knew every piece by heart, but occasionally, he didn't mind correcting her if she somehow got it wrong.
Both her former master and her fiancé had sheltered the poor girl, keeping her locked up in a cage. It seemed that Roman wasn't the only one with dreams. Hers was crossing the bridge to discover the beauty outside this city, if only she knew, there's really not much to explore. One day, he would be the one to show her that the universe was nothing but black, white, and red.
His jaw clenched as he watched her slip the scrap of metal back on her finger. He remembered this moment out of all the moments as to why the scented pillow wasn't enough. How could Roman Sionis have anything he wanted but not everything? How could Roman say he owned this girl when she had already pledged her heart to another? To a boy nonetheless?
If only he could pin her against the wall and wrap his hands around her throat only to mark her skin - a new collar for all to see. He could easily laugh at her fiancé's reaction to that fine trinket indeed. The idea diminished when Mia bid him farewell with that pearly white smile of hers. Giving up wasn't an option. Breaking the girl too early in the game wouldn't be fun. Forcing her to leave the fiancé would risk contradicting the qualities that made her attractive in the first place.
"Mr. Zsasz," Roman summoned his loyal guard dog who was now ecstatic to receive his undivided attention - a chance to regain favor in his sight. "Get me Tupeng. I need to talk to him about Mia."
"What did she do wrong, boss?"
"Nothing!" Roman's voice pitched defensively. How could Zsasz think that? "She's fine. Just get me Tupeng, and then I need you - listen carefully, Victor, 'cause this is super-duper important."
Zsasz listened to his boss's instructions intently as he massaged his shoulders. Roman paid no mind to the contact; he embraced it, adding it in another one of his fantasies. Soon his wildest dreams could become a reality. If he played his cards right, Roman Sionis could win Mia completely. His new centerpiece for all to admire and envy - his arms as the new case to protect its beauty within. He wouldn't stop there. Everyone knew he wouldn't just display her to the world. No, he would play with his favorite doll whether it was to brush her hair or undress her everywhere.
His imagination - her life was his creation.