Despite her somewhat savoury hors d'oeuvre, Sofia was wide awake and hungry. With Paolo sleeping soundly, she went in search of food. She would rejoin him later.
She wandered into his small kitchenette, looked around for something, anything to eat. Opening the fridge door she saw very little, except a couple of small pork pies and something wrapped in clingfilm, a very small piece of cheese maybe. She chose what she thought was cheese.
It was a human finger of about two inches long, severed below the second knuckle. She stifled a reaction, realising she'd stumbled upon something rather dangerous.
Sofia's expert fingers were in demand, providing physical encouragement to the required region, while Paolo, lying back in exhausted abandon, looked down his body to his personal masseuse. He was stirring again.
What happened then was almost a dream for Paolo. He closed his eyes and let it all happen to him, this time with Sofia firmly in control. Her hands had done their duty and she was otherwise engaged. Nothing was said, how could she?
Finally, drained of everything he had below, despite his recent passive role in his own satisfaction, Paolo drifted off into an equally satisfying sleep.
Paolo lay back as he watched Sofia move to the other end of the bed. She was expert in the ways of and the ways of handling men. Paolo was in for another treat, but without the intensity of frustration that had possessed him before, or the anger. For some strange, probably body-chemical, reason, maybe 'afterglow', he trusted Sofia at this point.
The start of her ministrations involved her slim fingers taking his two most sensitive appendages in tandem. Nervously, he automatically braced himself as, inevitably, Sofia 'tweaked' them to confirm her control, and get something else moving nearby.
With that, Sofia disengaged, slid off the bed, leaving Paolo looking at her with a mixture of wonder and sheepishness. Sofia deliberately took off her torn blouse and bra, as Paolo mouthed "Sorry".
"Shhhh!" she said quietly, "they can be fixed."
Then she deliberately removed her unblemished, but creased, skirt.
Her torn knickers had already been thrown aside earlier.
She stood naked, except for a necklace, bracelet and 'hold-up' black stockings.
"Wow... absolutely stunning." was all Paolo could manage to utter.
"Lie back Paolo. Leave it to me."
Sofia was peckish. She hoped he had something left for her.
When Paolo had finished and was spent, his mood changed. But, knowing this was likely to happen, Sofia pre-empted anything he might say.
"Sorry Paolo... it was unfair of me to ask you what I did. I wanted you... and yet with no signs that any women have ever been in this place, I thought you might be too shy to do anything about it. After all, what woman arrives alone, late at a man's place who isn't looking for action?"
"No, it's me should be sorry Sofia..."
"Nonsense... but that was far too quick... Time I took over!"
Paolo set about Sofia quite roughly for him. He didn't hit her... he never would as the father he loathed regularly beat his mother. He was just very assertive and Sofia judged it sensible to appear to put up some resistance, but in reality she was partial to a bit of roughness in a man from time to time and she was rapidly recovering from her earlier fear. She 'turned up the sound effects' for Paolo's benefit.
Paolo was quick and physical; he'd been waiting too long for anything slow and sensual. His mood changed as control reverted to Sofia.
Paolo's pent-up frustration, temptation and fury was unleashed. Sofia lay where she'd been thrown, a little scared, but daring to look at Paolo at the end of the bed. He was quickly unbuckling his belt and dropping and kicking off his trousers and pants before pulling off his T-shirt. He was visibly ready for action.
Sofia knew what was next and quickly pulled up her skirt, lest it be torn apart in Paolo's lust-fuelled rage. It saved the skirt, but raising her bottom slightly didn't save her knickers. Her blouse and bra were equally roughly torn apart.
Sofia made a hollow attempt at a gasp as Paolo’s hands maintained the pressure on her throat. She hadn’t expected this and the initiative was lost as she fought for her life. Sofia hadn’t understood men that well!
Continuing the pressure, Paolo dragged her through his bedroom door. He threw her onto his bed, letting go of her neck, to which her own hands immediately went as a survival instinct. Sofia was uncharacteristically scared stiff and just lay there. Paolo was stiff too with all that temptation and weeks and months of frustration.
Sofia’s careful seduction had backfired. ’Brace, brace!’
“WHAT?” shouted Paolo, probably waking his neighbours. What happened next was a result of the mixed messaging he was receiving. He’d been surprised by the late night visit to his flat, somewhere with secrets and where few women ever came. Sofia had glided in looking stunning, spoke of her concern for Tony, about whom he was carrying guilty secrets... moved up close and touched him. Then asked if he was gay.
Sofia looked and smelt so utterly irresistible that any hot-blooded male would have admitted to anything... but not that!
Instantaneously, Paolo’s hands clasped and closed around Sofia’s neck.
Paolo didn’t quite know what to say. He played for time as Sofia was now really close to him. Her perfume was intoxicating. Her sensuality, confused with the things she was saying, was scrambling his brain.
“Who says I’m close to Tony?” he asked. “I’m just one of the guys.”
“Never mind who said what Paolo,” Sofia said softly, “let’s say the other guys are talking...”
“About what?” demanded Paolo.
There was silence for what seemed like minutes but was actually a few seconds.
“Well?” asked Paolo.
Another shorter silence built up tension.... then...
“Paolo......... tell me.... are you gay?
“So how can I help?” asked Paolo.
Sofia approached Paolo before she continued. He couldn’t but look at her, and take in her incredible sensuality. He caught a whisper of her perfume, enough for an instantaneous physiological response. Sofia knew this very well. She knew men.
Before she spoke again, she touched his hand very briefly, almost as if it were accidental. But it wasn’t of course. Sofia was running the show again.
“A little bird has told us you’re very close to Tony right now, very, very close Paolo!” Sofia touched his hand again, but this time more deliberately.
“Seriously Paolo...” Sofia was getting down to business. “Marcia and I are very worried about Tony. Something’s really bothering him and it must be more than just Terry going off in a huff. Something’s really eating Tony up and we don’t know what it is and he won’t talk to us about it. When he’s at home he’s even more secretive than usual and just keeps looking at us suspiciously. He’s usually a grumpy old bastard, but we don’t want him suffering alone!”
With only one chair available, Paolo was leaning against his table. Sofia stood up again to continue...
Paolo beckoned Sofia to sit on the only uncluttered chair. She removed her coat and sat down as decorously as possible. Paolo looked away lest he take unfair advantage of anything she might inadvertently display in the process.
That was duly noted by Sofia. It indicated that he was aware... and interested. She looked around the room and also noted that there were no telltale signs of woman anywhere she looked. Another encouraging sign, she thought.
Paolo, now fully recovered, then took the initiative. “I’m sure you didn’t come here just to see me....”
“Well I’ve seen worse!” Sofia interjected.
“Sorry Sofia... welcome. Can I get you a drink or something?” Paolo was trying to recover and understand the situation all at once.
Sofia had the upper hand, just as she liked it. Cheekily, she replied.
“What’s the ‘or something’ on offer?”
Paolo, now completely on his back foot, could only manage “Wine, beer maybe?”
“Wine would be nice, white if you have it.” she was letting him off the hook.
Paolo was recovering as he handed her the wine. He glanced at her. She looked stunning. Not as pretty a face as Livia, but the rest was pure woman.
While Tony received his latest email, Paolo, at home in his flat, received an unexpected visitor. He was surprised to see Sofia, his boss’s sister-in-law, standing at the door.
“Hi Sofia!” he said, shaking his head as if to clear his brain.
“Are you going to let me come in then Paolo?” asked Sofia whimsically.
“Of course.” said Paolo, standing aside to allow her to glide past him into his sitting room, which was littered with computers and mobile phones in various states of repair.
“Why are you here?” he asked.
“Well what a welcome for a lady!”
Sofia and Marcia had been talking. They felt sidelined. They knew Tony was very bothered about Terry apparently going AWOL and were now realising it seemed to be really quite serious. They knew that Livia must be directly involved, but was keeping the two of them in the dark. They wondered if Terry was even still alive. They needed to find out what was really going on.
They knew Livia must have someone doing her dirty work, whatever it was, and decided they must speak to him. The word was that Paolo was mighty close to Tony.
Sofia would investigate.
Tony went home that evening searching for clues from the women. He was looking for knowing glances between them, physical contact and any bad vibes between himself and either of them. He felt that looking them straight in the eyes might give them away. Sofia responded to Tony's looks with a warm smile, while Marcia continued her characteristic grumpy look.
There would be no clues tonight.
At 11.00pm, he received a text:
'Mr Monelli. Our bill has increased to £350,000 due to 2 days late payment surcharges. Our next shipment will arrive tomorrow first thing. New payment deadline, Midnight tomorrow.'
Marcia - if she would dare. She hates me after all
Tipo - A bit too cocky for his own good that man
Cattaneo - Doesn't get on too well with Terry
Tipo - needs taking down a peg or two. Thinks he's better than he is.
Franco - smarter than most of us think yet he gets some shitty jobs
Sofia - never used to like Marcia, but suddenly they're best buddies
Marcia - word is she ain't at all nice - sorry Boss.
Sofia AND Marcia - a frightening prospect
Tony and Paolo swapped notes. Tony was suddenly very suspicious of his women.
"One of us, it could be one of us? Like who?" said Tony.
"Well me, for instance, Tony." replied Paolo daringly. "I can write well. Who can you trust? They say the nearest aren't necessarily the dearest... or the loyalist!"
Paolo was cool and smart. He understood how Tony thought.
Tony spontaneously and uncharacteristically hugged Paolo.
"That's bollocks mate, utter bollocks! I trust you like a brother and don't you ever forget it!"
Paolo wouldn't forget it... he was relying on it!
"Let's think hard about them all, separately, and see if we get any matches." Tony had hooked himself.
He texted Paolo telling him to get there fast. Paolo had organised the next day's parcel delivery already and so lost no time getting to Tony's office.
"You didn't stop fucking Fawaz from sending this text did you?" Tony accused immediately that Paolo walked in the door.
"It wasn't Fawaz." said Paolo. "Look at the wording Tony. That fat arab can barely speak English. These people are professional, serious and ruthless!"
Tony knew Paolo was right. The kind of language used in the texts was refined, slightly understated yet unequivocal.
"Could it possibly be an inside job?" was Paolo's bombshell.