Sleeping With The Enemy (8 page)

‘Children, I
would like to introduce you to a special guest. This is Mr. Imposimato.’

‘Hello, kids.’

‘Hello, sir,’
they said in unison.

The
superintendent left him with the children and an assistant teacher.

‘Okay, children,
we’re going to play a game so that I can get to know your names. Okay?’

They smiled
expectantly at him.

‘Okay, let’s make
a circle.’

The children
shuffled around noisily as they made the circle.

‘I’ll place this
napkin at the center. When one of us picks it up, he or she’ll go with it to
one of the members of the circle and introduce himself or herself. Like this…’
He picked up the napkin and went to one of the children. ‘My name is Ferdinando
Imposimato. What is yours?’

‘Pleased to meet
you, Mr. Imposimato. I’m Richard Bryant.’

This went on for
a while until everyone had introduced themselves. He played some more games
with the children before saying goodbye to them.

He went outside
to his waiting car and the driver drove it away.

* *
* * *

Rosina Ameliano
was working busily in her office when the phone rang.

She looked at
the screen of the iPhone and learned that it was the orphanage’s
superintendent. She answered it. ‘Yes, Mary?’

She listened for
a while. ‘Oh?’ she said with a raised eyebrow.

* *
* * *

From the orphanage,
Imposimato’s chauffeur drove him to Cambiaso’s mansion in Long Island. Two of Cambiaso’s
bodyguards accompanied him to the mansion’s sun lounge.

Cambiaso watched
Imposimato as one of the bodyguards began to search him. Unexpectedly, and with
amazing alacrity, Imposimato elbowed the bodyguard, who was searching him from
behind, in the face. The man’s nose broke on impact with the elbow. Imposimato
turned around quickly to punch him with a powerful fist in the face. The man dropped
down like a sack of potatoes.

As quick as
lightning, Imposimato brought out two guns from his coat pocket and held each
in one hand, one pointed at Cambiaso’s head and the other pointed at the other
bodyguard, who happened to be Terry of the broken finger, and – incidentally –
the man who had the previous night dispossessed Imposimato’s men of the
briefcase with the money.

Terry had
brought out his gun and pointed it at Imposimato’s face at the same time that Imposimato
had pointed his at him. They stood in this stalemate for a moment, and then
Terry ordered. ‘Put down your gun.’

Imposimato didn’t
lift his eyes off Cambiaso, though he had Terry within the periphery of his
vision. ‘Do you really have the balls to kill a man like me?’ he smiled
cynically.

‘Drop your
fucking gun!’ Terry hissed angrily.

The sound of
gunfire boomed inside the room and Terry realized too late that Imposimato had
shot him in the hand that had been holding the gun. The gun dropped of its own
volition out of his hand and he clutched his bloody hand and shrieked in pain.

Imposimato
followed that shot with another to Terry’s forehead. He dropped to the floor in
a dead mass.

Without another
glance at the dead man, Imposimato brought his gaze level with Cambiaso’s. ‘That
second bullet was meant for you.’

In spite of the
situation, Cambiaso smiled. ‘Pity. I should’ve told him. Nobody swears at you.’

Imposimato
lowered his guns and walked around the room. He looked contemptuously at the
two bodyguards on the floor. ‘I’ve never really trusted bodyguards. One: they make
deadly assumptions that have even deadlier consequences. Two: they have a lousy
reaction span. As unfortunate as it sounds, it’s a fact we have to live with.’

‘Just as the fact
that someday I shall have the pleasure of killing you,’ said Cambiaso softly.

Imposimato came
to a standstill and gave Cambiaso a hard stare. ‘Do you wish to do that today?’

‘No,’ replied Cambiaso.
‘The leopard is a patient predator.’

They challenged
each other with powerful stares for a long moment. Imposimato shrugged. ‘Where
is my briefcase?’

Cambiaso pointed
at a white leather couch. The black briefcase was lying on top of the couch.
Imposimato crossed to the couch and opened the briefcase. All the money was
still there. He closed it and picked it up. He threw a curt glance at Cambiaso and
then walked out of the sun lounge.

‘I will kill
you,’ he heard Cambiaso’s voice behind him. ‘But first I want you to feel pain.
My time will come.’

Imposimato
tightened his grip on the briefcase’s handle. He fought down the overpowering
temptation to shoot Cambiaso and walked out of the room.

* *
* * *

When he arrived at
his apartment, he was pleasantly surprised to find her there.

She was sitting
on the floor in the kitchen, leaning against the wall directly opposite the
door. She was wearing nothing but a pink thong. She looked desirable and
vulnerable at the same time. A warm feeling came over him, and he wanted to
rush forward and take her in his arms and make love to her.

He came in and
closed the door behind him. ‘What is this?’ he asked softly, placing his
briefcase on the kitchen table.

She pulled her
knees towards her chest and hugged them. She rested her chin on top of her
knees and smiled wonderfully at him. ‘I hear you went to see the children today.’

‘Correct.’ He came
round the table and perched himself on it, looking down at her. ‘How did you
know?’

‘Sir, I keep my
ears to the ground,’ she said cleverly.

He stared at her
silently, an amused smile on his face.

‘To thank you
for going to the children’s home, I brought you a gift.’

‘I like it,’ he
said with a nod of his head. ‘It’s wonderful, gorgeous and impressive.’

‘Most men don’t
compliment me in such words.’

‘But then—.’

‘But then you’re
not most men.’

‘Again,
correct.’

He smiled at her
as she rose to her feet and strode provocatively to him. She came to a stop
between his legs and he placed both his hands on her waist.

‘Guess what,’
she said.

‘You’ve fallen
in love with me?’ he answered.

She laughed.
‘Clever answer.’ She stroked his face with a finger. ‘I’ve been invited to a TV
interview tomorrow.’

He kissed her
lips lightly. ‘I’m very proud of you.’ He looked into her eyes, stroked her hair
and then inspected it closely. ‘Hm,’ he remarked pensively.

‘What?’

‘Let’s see what
we can do to improve your hair.’

‘My hair’s
fine—.’

He covered her
mouth with a hand. ‘Sit down.’

She obeyed, and
watched him with a curious face as he went into the bathroom and returned with a
bottle of shampoo, a towel and a dish of water. He wrapped the towel around her
shoulders and neck, and then he placed the dish on her lap and she bent down
her head as he began to wash her hair. He then rinsed it and then sat on the table
with her back to him. He plaited her hair in thick strands before using an
electric dryer to dry it. Satisfied that he had taken all the moisture from it,
he unplaited it and let it fall into her shoulders. Her hair fell in wavy strands
upon her shoulders. He sprayed it with some hairspray and then brought her a
mirror. He held the mirror for her as she looked at the change he had done to
her hair.

She was
impressed. ‘Wow! Where did you learn to do that?’

‘Told you. Mama
Imposimato was a woman of many talents.’ He handed her the mirror, went to the
bedroom area and returned with a digital camera. ‘Remove the towel. I want to
freeze the moment.’

She did several
poses for him as he snapped away happily. The she came to him and took the camera
from his hands. She placed it on the table and unzipped his pants. She whipped
him out and dropped to her knees before him to suck his penis. She worked it
vigorously with her mouth until it grew to full turgidity.

He pulled her up
to her feet and they went to the bedroom area. He quickly took off his clothes
and lay down on the bed. She pulled off her pink thong and came above him,
parting her knees astride his face. He took her offered vagina and licked and
stroked it with his tongue. She bent forward and took his cock inside her
mouth. She gave him a thorough and satisfying blowjob until he grunted like a
hungry mongrel. He got to his knees before her jutting ass and inserted his
erection inside her vagina. He pressed her chest down on the bed and drove
himself frantically in and out of her. In a moment, he groaned aloud and she
felt his body shake violently as his orgasm overpowered him.

‘Shit!’ he
exhaled.

‘I’m wearing you
down, old man,’ she boasted with a laugh.

‘Wanna bet?’ he
turned her onto her back and climbed quickly on top of her. He plunged back
into her oily well of delights and moaned excitedly. She brought her legs up
alongside the sides of his torso and dug her knees in his underarms as he
ground himself against her. She stroked his bare back and pressed his buttocks
down, enjoying the way he was rubbing his cock against her clitoris. She
stroked the crack of his ass and found his anus. She drew circles with her
finger around it and then slowly and gently inserted her finger into it. He
kissed her furiously and erupted in a crazed orgasm.

He collapsed
onto her and lay still, his body wracked by short spasms of climax. ‘God!’ he
groaned.

‘What?’ she
asked curiously.

He looked into
her eyes. They held only affection for her. ‘I really should stop punishing
myself.’

She laughed
hysterically.

* *
* * *

He went with his
camera to a photo studio, where he waited for some time while they developed
his pictures for him. When the photos had been developed, they handed them to
him inside a big envelope. He checked them and was satisfied. He paid the fee and
left the photo studio for his apartment.

Fourteen

Rosin Ameliano was
interviewed by a popular talk show host at the Gramercy Hotel’s large
conference room. The make-up artists touched up her face and made it ready for
television before the interview started. It would be watched by millions of
people in America and beyond. A studio audience of 100 people was also present,
having a first-hand witness account of the event.

The host, Nicky
Greenwall, a 33-year-old female host who had achieved fame with her high-brow talk
show, started the interview on a light note. ‘Hello everyone. I have a special
guest today, whose voice is heard on most days of the week by most people across
America at regular intervals during the day. It is one that’s been described as
a voice to make women jealous and one to make a man’s balls freeze with
desire.’

The studio audience
erupted into laughter.

‘She’s breathtakingly
gorgeous – take my word for it – and she has the glorious name of Rosina Ameliano,’
continued the host. ‘Rosie, welcome to the show.’

Rosina beamed
the cameras a glorious smile. ‘Thank you for inviting me.’

‘On the subject
of your voice, would you say with utter conviction that you are sensual or sensuous?’

‘It’s a talent,’
Rosina laughed. ‘I would say I’m 80% sensual and 20% sensuous.’

The host laughed
too. ‘Not only pretty, but quick with answers too.’

Rosina laughed.
‘It’s in the blood…’

‘You are
well-educated, with high-end degrees from prestigious European colleges…and it
is said that you speak four languages…How did that come about?’

‘I should say that
I’ve been lucky in life…and while I’m at it I should also be honest: I speak
only three languages…I know a bit of Italian, not really fluently; French I speak
well, and the English is debatable.’

The studio audience
and the host laughed.

‘…The fourth is
sign language; it’s something I’m improving by the side.’

‘Impressive,’ said
Nicky, her face becoming serious. ‘For someone who lives in the public
spotlight, you do somehow manage to lead a private life.’

‘One sentence:
Some people make headlines while others make history.’

Nicky nodded. ‘I
understand you have a reputation for knowing more quotes than anyone else on Channel
5.’

‘If you
understand good quotes, you can lead something close to a perfect life. The
other one is: There is a thin line between confidence and arrogance. Because fame
usually turns normal people to selfish egomaniacs, that simple statement
regularly helps me to check myself from sliding into the quagmire of
complacency. I know what I want – and that is to be a strong and confident woman
without being arrogant.’

‘So, arrogance
is the one thing you value the most in your life?’