Divorcing Her Mafia Family
Chapter 9

She woke early, the heavy weight of Miklos’ arms around her, his hand cupping her a*s and her nose nuzzled into his chest. He was furry. He had a ton of chest hair and as a teenager she had dreamed of trailing her fingers through it. Now her nose was buried deep, and she squeezed her eyes tight against the feelings she was having.

Early dawn was washing away the bravado the liquor had given her the night before. She had lots of things she needed to do today, starting with checking to see if the pool was right. She eased out of bed and panicked slightly when he mumbled in his sleep but then turned back over to his stomach, snoring loudly.

She had forgotten he snored. She had teased him mercilessly when she’d been a kid. Memories of him falling asleep on the sofa in her parents’ home after a dinner or in the backyard at his family’s home on a Saturday afternoon for a BBQ reminded her he’d always snored. Once she had stuck peas up his nose to see if he would suck them in deep while he was sleeping. She had been eight at the time. He’d choked so hard, he’d turned blue. Her father had roared with laughter while his mother had shrieked Dimitra could have killed him. He had woken furious and at fifteen displaying far more patience than he should have he’d simply picked her up, thrown her over his shoulder and thrown her into the deep end of the pool and dared anyone to defy him in helping her out.

She had swum up to the surface sputtering but grinning at him. He had simply shaken his head, called her a brat and jumped in after her and played with her in the pool, dunking her under the water and throwing her into the air. Now as she watched him sleeping deeply, she considered he’d been very patient with her as a precocious child.

Just before her eighteenth birthday he had changed. It was then she learned they had to get married. He’d instantly resented her. She had been filled with hope and excitement and he’d squashed it like a bug underfoot. Neither of them had been dealt fair hands but she would not excuse his behavior.

She stared at him in the bed and then grabbed her toothbrush off the nightstand, aware the night before she hadn’t even bothered to clean up. Running water on her toothbrush she looked around his bathroom with interest. The place was huge and as she stood at the sink, she contemplated her actions of the night before.

She’d jumped into bed with him with nary a thought. She and vodka were no longer on speaking terms. She slapped her forehead in the mirror as she brushed her teeth, considering she had exposed her entire body to him in a brazen display of wicked depravity. What had she been thinking? She had wanted him to reject her, not get a raging hard-on, though he’d not gotten one from her but still. She had pushed buttons she should never have. She was lucky a man with his disposition hadn’t convinced her to give it up.

Dimi made her way back into the bedroom and stared at the sleeping giant of a man. The pink blankets were wrapped low around his waist and his boxers had slipped down revealing the crack of his a*s. Even his back had hair, not copious amounts but it was still there, and she tilted her head sideways to study him. She’d seen him in far less than what he currently wore thousands of times in her life, though not once in the last years, yet this felt too intimate. It still didn’t fail to impress her how toned he kept his body. He’d been heavy into fitness as long as she could remember. The thick pink duvet had slipped right off the satin sheets and his legs were tangled in the hot pink mess of the shiny material. She looked to her phone and grinned.

She snuck over to her phone and as quietly as she could made her way back to the end of the bed and took a photo of him sleeping in pink satin. Perhaps she would put this on a billboard somewhere in Hollywood. She noted the little remote control and didn’t try to hide her devious smile.

Oddly, he hadn’t paid too much attention to the remote. Perhaps he thought it was for something other than it’s intended purposes. She pushed a button and the sound of mechanical gears coming into play made her jump. It had seemed much quieter in the environment of the furniture store, but the noise didn’t seem to faze the man. He snored away happily with his face plunged into a giant fluffy pink throw pillow on the bed.

As the head of the bed began to lift, she pushed a button to raise the lower half of the bed. She heard him grumble and watched as he tried to reposition. She stifled a giggle as ever so slowly, the bed was bending downward in the middle, the top rising to meet the bottom. She pushed another button, increasing the speed of the movement and her giggle erupted her chest at the image of the man being folded in his sleep. The dumbass hadn’t even reacted yet, just repositioned himself into a curled-up position.

Then something clicked on the bed. She considered briefly maybe she should have gone to a store with more high-end products because it was clear the motor on this unit was defective as the bed was folding far faster than she had expected. She pushed frantically on the remote, trying to make it slow down because she hadn’t wanted him to wake up too soon but with the sound of grinding gears and the bed crunching Miklos, he was now awake and panicking

“What the f**k?” he screamed as the bed folded in around him. He saw her standing at the end of the bed with the black device in her hand and started putting two and two together. “Dimitra!” he was scrambling to get out of the bed, but the slick sheets and the grinding bed were trapping him.

She threw the remote at his head in panic and ran. The sound of it hitting his head was punctuated by his furious curse and she struggled with the door for a half second before tearing it open and running in the direction of the stairs. The sound of his feet hitting the wood floors resounded in her ears and she tore through the house.

“You little witch!” he bellowed as he chased her through the house.

She looked over her shoulder as she hit the landing and gave a scream at the madman chasing her. The remote must have caught him on a corner because he had b***d running down his cheek and he was half-asleep, but his rage was wide awake.

“Dimitra, you’re going to get your a*s smacked!”

“You’d have to catch me first old man,” she yelled back as she rounded the kitchen island hiding behind Mrs. K who was staring at the pair of them like they were insane.

“What is going on?”

“She burned my bed and replaced it with a contraption of f*****g death!” he pointed at her as he almost had her cornered in the kitchen.

“A contraption of death?” Mrs. K was confused.

“I was trying to make him more comfortable.” Dimi giggled furiously unable to stop herself.

Her laugh caused his fury to escalate. “You think this is funny?”

“Miklos, you’re bleeding.” Mrs. K held out a tea towel.

He wiped his hand along his face and then looked at the b***d on his palm and then back at Dimi. “You folded me in half and then cut my face open!”

“It’s a nick. You do far worse trimming the monstrosity you call a beard.” She mocked him and then ducked under Mrs. K’s arm when he lunged at her. She shrieked loudly and raced back in the direction of the side yard where the pool was. His legs were longer than hers and he almost caught her as she just made it through the patio doors, slamming them on his face.

He stalked toward her as she ran around the far side of the pool. In the early morning light, she noted it was a funny shade of blue. Magda had done as she was supposed to, but the sun was up and suddenly Dimi was concerned he would see the dye before diving in.

“You should go for a swim and cool off,” Mrs. K called out behind Miklos, and Dimi whipped her head incredulously in the direction of the woman who gave a shrug. “Miklos’ you are too angry. Take a breath and get cooled off. You cannot strangle your wife on her second day home.”

“Says who?” he stalked around the edge of the pool

“My mom would be upset.” She tried to argue as his eyes flashed between their deep brown and coal black. “If I’m dead, I can’t make it to thirty!” she tossed out in a panic. He was at one end of the pool, and she was at the other.

Without another word he dove into the water, and she stopped in pure amazement he had done it. He was in the water. Swimming towards her, she realized he had simply bypassed running around the pool and had cut through the water in a furious rage. He was like a dolphin, faster in water than on land. “f**k!” She shrieked as he pulled himself out of the pool not five feet from her.

She turned, walking backwards until her back was pressed against the glass doors of the doors to the room, she normally slept in. She fell into the room when Magda slid the doors open and quickly locked them. They both stood staring at the man on the other side of the glass before starting to giggle like mad.

“Oh s**t,” Magda giggled, “he looks like Hitman Smurf.”

He raised his hand towards the glass and caught his reflection in the glass and then frowned. He looked down at his arm in confusion. The sound of sputtering laughter from inside the room gave him pause and Dimi gripped her sides as they ached from holding in her laughter.

“He’s going to kill me.” She should have felt fear but there was none. His skin was completely coated everywhere in a deep blue haze. The whites of his eyes looked bright in contrast to the blue and even the hair on his body appeared to be glowing an eerie fluorescent blue color. She watched from the room as he looked over his arms and his legs and then back to the room. “Was it glow in the dark stuff?”

The two girls stepped backwards in sync as his hand, flattened against the glass.

“He looks positively sad. Blue even,” Dimi remarked trying to contain her laughter.

“Dimitra!”

His bellow made them both jump backwards and grab each other in panic.

“When I get my hands on you little wife, you will pray for death.”

She walked up to the glass and put her lips against it and blew against it, puffing her cheeks out mockingly. “You don’t scare me you oversized blueberry.” She jumped when he slapped the glass between them again, “Well maybe a little,” she whispered to Magda

“I might have peed a bit,” Magda whispered.

“He looks very frightening.”

“Me and Darya and Jinx should probably go home.” Magda whispered

“No because I need you as witnesses in case, he does kill me.” She whispered back as he gave a furious primal yell into the air outside the door and then stomped away. “I took a picture of him sleeping in pink satin.”

“You did not.” Magda was amazed.

“I did. And I think we bought a defective bed because the thing went haywire and the remote wouldn’t respond and he folded like a napkin in a fancy restaurant.”

“If I, were you, I’d be hiding right now.”

“I need to hide until my mom gets here. He won’t kill me if she’s here. What time is it?”

“Sixish?”

“That’s still an hour away!” she winced. She pressed her face to the glass to see if she could see him outside.

The sound of him pounding on the bedroom door made her jump. “Oh shit.”

He kicked the door open, the frame splintering as the door swung on its hinges. The two women stood in the center of the bedroom in awe of his unbridled fury.

Magda appeared terrified but Dimitra couldn’t help it. She laughed. “Oh my god you look hilarious. Have you looked in the mirror? Through the glass was one thing but face to face, if I held you up to the sky, you’d disappear.”

“You think this is funny?”

“I do,” she couldn’t contain her laughter as she stared at him. She didn’t move as he stepped closer to her. Bravery was making her stupid. “Can I get my divorce yet?”

“You think a little blue dye is going to make me sign you away?” he shook his head and wagged his finger at her. “My little wife, this only strengthens my resolve. Life with you will never be dull.” He reached out and snaked his hand around her wrist and pulled her close. “It’s time to get cleaned up.”

“What?” she gasped at his words her bravery dissipating at the glimmer of wickedness there. He threw her over her shoulder and smacked her hard on the a*s once, “ouch that hurt.”

“I warned you; you would get a smack on the a*s.”

“I didn’t think you’d do it.” She shrieked and struggled against his shoulder.

“You enjoy it, otherwise you wouldn’t have had me chase you through the house,” he winked at Magda whose jaw dropped open.

“Miklos, put me down!” she screamed

“No. A good housewife knows to clean the messes she makes. You have made a mess of your husband. You are going to clean him up.”

She stopped struggling as he took the stairs two at a time. His words echoed in her head like a kid screaming into the Grand Canyon. “What do you mean?”

“My wife is going to scrub me down,” he pinched her bottom when she screamed and started twisting in his arms trying to escape.

“I’m not a good housewife. I’m not even a good wife, let alone housewife,” she begged. “Please Miklos, put me down.”

She gripped the side of the door as they entered his pink bedroom and his grunt of annoyance as her attempts to hold were punctuated when he turned his head and bit her butt cheek.

“You bit me!” She screamed in horror as she rubbed her a*s.

“You let go of the door,” he said matter-of-factly.

“It’s abuse to bite me.”

“It would be abuse if I beat you, which, I’m considering. You are lucky you’ve only had a tap on the a*s and a love bite. You have pushed me too far, too early in the morning, my little wife.” He dropped her in the shower and blocked her exit, turning the water on.

Her shriek as the cold water hit her from jets overhead and on either side and behind her made him grin.

“Oops, I forgot to put the warm water on. I prefer my showers cool. It’s good for b***d circulation.”

She cursed him out in her mother tongue, and he stood smirking as she shivered, her arms wrapped around the now wet and see-through t-shirt she had on. He threw a loofah at her and without warning stepped out of his boxers.

“Oh my god, Miklos!” She screamed and covered her eyes, turning her head in the direction of the water. “What are you doing?”

“You cannot see what you need to scrub if your eyes are closed,” he retorted, far more laughter in his voice than there should be.

“I am not scrubbing you,” she yelled at him.

“We are not leaving this shower until you have attempted to remove the blue dye from my body. Every f*****g square inch of it,” he stepped into the cold water, almost pinning her to the wall behind her. When she tried to side-step, he blocked her off. “Your actions have consequences Dimitra. It is time you faced your consequences.”

“It’s too cold,” she refused to look down.

“Some men use it as an excuse,” he laughed when her cheeks burned, “I have never needed an excuse. Even cold, my c**k is huge.”

“Miklos!” she shoved his chest at his words. “You cannot say such things!”

“You are my wife. I can say what I want.”

“Not for long. I will get my divorce.”

“You think flames and blue dye will convince me? Think again, my little wife.”

She was looking everywhere but him. The white tiles surrounding the shower had intricate little veins of grey through them. She used her fingers to trace a nearby tile before pushing her soaking hair off her forehead. The tiles contrasted nicely with all the black fixtures in the bathroom. She tried to focus on her surroundings, but his presence was overwhelming. He wasn’t budging and she swallowed deeply. Miklos Laskaris was naked in front of her, and she was acutely aware of how much she wanted to examine every detail down to the smallest freckle. Instead, she kept her eyes trained on the tiles at the top of the shower.

He gripped her hand and shoved the loofah into it and squeezed bodywash on it. The scent of mint and tea tree surrounded them, and she kept her eyes to the ceiling as he pushed her hand with the loofah in it to his chest. She shivered and insisted to herself it had nothing to do with being in a shower with him and everything to do with being cold.

“Clean your mess, Dimitra,” his voice was hot in the coolness of the shower. “You are not leaving this shower until you have scrubbed every inch of blue dye on this body.”

“Miklos,” she whispered, “please let me go.”

“No.” he refused and reached his hand to turn her face to his. “Get to work.”

“I hate you,” she hissed angrily as she began making circles with the soap on his chest, the suds mixing with his thick chest hair.

“No, you don’t. You love me. You always have. You always will.”

“Arrogant prick,” she muttered as she scrubbed angrily. She grinned suddenly when she noted the blue was not coming off very well. “Looks like it won’t come off,” she dropped the loofah to the floor and shrugged. “Guess this is pointless.”

“Pick it up,” he pointed to the loofah.

“No.”

“Pick it up and try. Every spot which has blue you are going to at the very least, try to clean. Pick up the sponge.”

“You can’t make me.”

“Want to bet?” He stepped closer to her.

“Fine,” she closed her eyes and squatted down feeling around for the object, touching his feet and the floor. His mocking laugh made her bristle, “it’s not funny! You’re naked Miklos!”

“I’m aware I’m naked. If you open your eyes, then we would be even. Last night I saw all of you. You should get to see all of me.”

She grabbed the loofah and stood upright, sliding on the suds seeping out of it. She slipped against him, and he caught her to his body. Dimi was immediately aware of the hard length of him pressed against her middle. He was hard as a rock, aroused even with the cold water raining over them.

“Can you feel what your being on your knees squatted in front of me did, Dimitra?” his voice husky in her ear made her squirm against him. His hands gripped her h**s and pulled her close, only the terry cotton of her shorts separating them. “My beautiful little wife,” he nuzzled her neck.

She closed her eyes against the feelings boiling in her middle. She wanted him and it was evident he wanted her. She swallowed deeply as his mouth pressed a hot k**s to the spot just above her pulse and she trembled violently as his hands squeezed her h**s tightly. She couldn’t stop the m**n escaping her lips at the action.

“Admit it,” he licked her neck seductively. “You want this. You want us. Give in, my little wife. It will be so much easier on you.”

His words felt colder than the water spraying around them and doused the fire. She shoved him backwards hard, his feet sliding on the slippery tile. She pushed past his body, now that he was off-balance and though he lunged for her, she was able to evade his grasp.

“I admit nothing,” she screamed at him as she raced out of the room. “Nothing!”

She tore through the house in her wet clothes and raced to the bedroom she had given up to Magda the night before. Locking herself into the bathroom, she turned the shower on as hot as she could stand it and let the heat and steam envelop her. She suddenly felt, perhaps, just maybe, she had underestimated her opponent.

“Expecting a call?”