When italian mafia falls in love with an indian singer
The sound of his phone ringing makes me back away as I look at his phone lying on his bed. But he grips my jaw forcing me to look back at him.
"Focus on me."
He says as his lips starts peppering...
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I nod absentmindly as my men discuss various strategies. I don't even know what they are saying just know that they are talking about being cautious and demanding separate house.
I just want to meet kuhu. It's only been a few days without her but it feels as if an eternity has passed.
When Lorenzo told me about her drowning herself, I felt me getting jitters. It felt as if someone has knocked me hard on my fucking chest. I came here as fast as I could along with nikaloi.
And when I finally saw her she was too busy looking after nikaloi. She noticed me later. Way too later.
I feel a pang of sadness in my heart but there's nothing I can do about how another person reacts to me or feels about me.
Oh! Shut it. I am really geeting jealous of my own son. My subconscious reminds me.
Yeah, I am being an asshole right now. Of course she paid noone else attention but nikaloi.
That's nikaloi. She saw him after so long.
"What do you say?" I hear all my men turning to me and asking me something.
"Huh?" I am dumbfounded
"About discussing the matters with Italians?" They elaborate.
"I think we need to relax and take our time. We just got here. Let things settle a bit. We will surely get the separate housing." I tell them calmly.
They nod at my opinion.
"If that what you want, we will wait." They say and disperse.
Finally I'll get to meet her. I have been dying to see her. And after that singing incidence in the morning....
Fuck, she is angelic. She has bewitched me fully.
I immediately make my way out of the room and stride towards her room.
Climbing up the stairs I reach the door of her room. I grab the handle of the door but quickly retrieve back my hand to fix my tie and brush my hair back.
Once I make sure that everything is perfect. I pull down the handle and enter in the room quietly.
My eyes move across the whole room and then finally settle on her.
Bless my eyes.
I say internally as the sight in front of me feels like a sweet of my tongue which slowly melts leaving it's sugary taste behing to be relished.
There she is with my son on her lap. She is saying something in her native language while lightly tickling him and his childish laughter is filling the room.
In her sweet voice she says "मम्मी को याद नहीं किया?" (Didn't you remember mummy)
"मम्मा ने तो इत्ता सारा याद किया, अपने लड्डू को" (Mumma remembered her laddu so much)
