loveilovetoo

[loveilovetoo]

WAR & PEACE (2016) // Episode 1.01

[loveilovetoo]

Moth to Flame [Michael Corleone x Reader series, 18+ Smut] Oneshot – Evenings Like These.

Read on AO3 / Chapter Masterlist. / Fic Playlist.

Oneshot based in July 1958.

"And since it's so important to you, spend time with the children and the guests instead of running off to New York this time." / "I'm obsessed with every inch of you."

July 1958 marks a grand, semi-annual dinner party held by the Corleone family for closest friends, colleagues, and business partners. One to remember in terms of splendor and memories made, Michael is largely absent in his office managing business deals both illicit and legitimate–adding to the growing wealth and power of the Corleone family just as Vito once did as Don. With little Vincent and baby James growing and the twins almost 10 years old, Vito and Carmela are present spending time with their grandchildren as Michael's absence from the family grows stringent and unbearable for you and the twins to ignore. You come to realize evenings like these are nights of revelation. The Corleone family nanny Esther reveals her dirty secret during the biggest party of the year, Sandra's guilt stems from a lie, Sonny's thoughts remain with what happened in New York, a swing dance becomes the highlight of the party and your appetite for an afterparty diminishes but lust for wanting to take control of the Don in bed after days left without intimacy grows.

[WARNINGS]: Smut & sexual themes / Rough smut / Spanking / Dirty talking.

[AUTHOR'S NOTE]: A whopping 72 pages or 26.4k words in all its glory! You can expect drama, a sprinkle of angst, a plot twist of surprise, arguments, teasing, jealousy, even a swing dance and heated smut are all in this oneshot. We get to see Vito, Connie and Sandra again, moments with the twins, how Michael runs the family business including his wealth, and how Michael and the reader's two cute little babies-Vincent and James-are doing! Just as so much can go right at one of the biggest, semi annual celebrations held by the Corleone, so much has a potential to go wrong. Expect the unexpected when it comes to all of the plot arcs and characters this oneshot.

1949. Your name is Victoria Ferrari, and you’re the only daughter of one of the most powerful mafia families in New York—the Ferrari’s. When the Ferrari family began to gain heavy influence and power, it struck a power imbalance with the Corleone’s. To bind the families together as one in an offering of peace, friendship and business, you are to be married to their youngest son, Michael Corleone. As you ensnare yourself in the life of a mob wife by Michael’s side, what you don’t know is his old ties with Kay Adams, your best friend from Dartmouth, and that he returned from Sicily a widower. A ruthless mob boss to be, you unravel Michael’s dark past and the brutality that has changed his personality. You find yourself adapting to your new life, betrayed by those you love most, and in high profile to Ferrari and Corleone family enemies. Falling deeply in love with Michael, you enter a life and marriage filled with secrets and darkness. Bearing his children, supporting his crime empire and following him into the shadows, you’re unable to deny your passion and desire to the new Don. When it comes to Michael Corleone, you are but a moth to a flame.

July 1958 marks the semi-annual celebration and dinner part of the season, held at the Lake Tahoe compound only for the family’s most trusted and longtime business associates, investors and partners, university benefactors and colleagues, lawyers, politicians, and bankers in the Corleone family payroll and friends you and Michael have been grateful to know for the past decade.

There’s a story to tell behind the name and face of everyone attending your family’s celebration tonight; men and women all working for the Corleone family one way or another like a small cog within a machine that is efficient with or without them.

As a result of your marriage with Michael almost nine years ago now, every guest has also become acquainted or in some sort of business with your family as well. Partnerships and business have always been done well, and a sense of trustworthiness and loyalty exists amongst these men and women rather than stringent greed for money alone. 

Still, even with the familiarity and business tactics, Michael has come to know from all of his guests, it’s never meant he’s actually trusted them. Michael never has and never will.

Michael doesn’t even trust Al Neri—his right-hand bodyguard and personal assassin even though Neri’s loyalty has been grandfathered in since Vito was Don.

There isn’t a bone in Al Neri’s body or a desire for all the money in the world to betray Michael or even come close to thinking it. Even if Michael was able to know and understand this, he still would not grant his trust.

Perhaps the men and women gathered today to celebrate don’t know how distrustful you and Michael truly are of them at the end of the day, but today is an exception as there’s a mix of keeping things both in business and personal. 

Familiar faces and well-known guests have always graced celebrations held by the Corleone and Ferrari families alike. 

Corleone hospitality at the Lake Tahoe compound is one of a kind in itself. A hired Italian band plays a soothing and relaxing melody that echoes throughout the compound, welcoming guests who walk past the dazzling lights and décor surrounding the estates.

Naturally, security is at an all-time high, but even Michael’s bodyguards and assassins are dressed like party guests—eating and making conversation to remain inconspicuous as if the only security available is by the entrance and exits of the compound instead.

The dining tables are set up elegantly to accommodate every guest without being overcrowded or too close to the next table. The finest silverware and dishes are used to grace the gourmet Italian menu and special dish selection for everyone’s taste.

Bottles of champagne and wine worth thousands of dollars are served, and the finest cocktails with low alcohol content are curated by a mixologist over by the bar. Only the best and most experienced chefs and servers that are paid very well by your family tend to tonight’s meal to leave a profound impression.

Just as all your guests were punctual when the dinner celebration began, fireworks were shown first—popping and blasting in the sky to welcome the evening of splendor before everyone. More are planned to be released towards the end of the celebration, as the dinner party starts at six and will end up at midnight.

You know well yourself that with these semi-annual celebrations, a grand party is in order as much as the continuation of Michael’s business is too. Michael’s popping in and out of his office every now and then to talk to his business associates.

Michael’s become accustomed to formality and celebration upfront but private business elsewhere. Although all business is in his favor tonight, Michael only wonders what other offers and requests he’ll have before him on Verona’s wedding day in the future.

Those who know, know. Michael Corleone is not just the head of the Corleone family—a well-known figure in New York and Nevada, but also a businessman whose dealings have always been lucrative. 

It’s only 7:32 PM, and Michael has already made five million dollars worth of deals before the dinner service has even begun. 

You only had a brief moment with your husband as the two of you made your initial rounds of meeting guests briefly, mostly to show your guests that the hosts would be as present and enjoying the evening as they were.

“Thank you for coming” and “how has your family been?” must have come out of your mouth at least a dozen times in the first five minutes of handshakes and hugs to old friends and colleagues.

The same sentiment is shared by your family, whose also fully in attendance, but you know all of your brothers, with the exception of Matteo (always brooding in silence) and Dante—who has never been as much of a social butterfly as his older brothers—are more than eager to greet who they know will make them the most money by the end of the night.

Lorenzo remains dressed lavishly in his best, three-piece, navy silk suit while holding a glass of champagne in one hand and his other arm wrapped around his wife Alina’s waist. 

The group of guests that gather around Lorenzo gaze at your brother in awe as he continues charming them with his charisma, while Alessio stands next to another full guest’s table—stealing all the attention from the conversation.

Leonardo, on the other hand, plants a soft trail of kisses over Connie’s cheeks by the bar, causing her to blush as the two talk amongst one another at the other end of the compound.

Throughout the beginning of the celebration, Niccolò and Verona have politely accompanied both you and Michael in meeting family friends and business partners who’ve only gushed and expressed how much the twins have grown and how much they resemble you and Michael. 

The squealing and “he’s so adorable!” increased tenfold when you held three-year-old Vincent’s hand and walked with him around the compound, carrying your youngest—one-year-old James in your arms.

Whether Michael was right beside you at the time or just a few feet away speaking with a business partner, his eyes were always on you and the children. 

He felt the warmth of emotion at the sight of his growing family, especially when James gives his daddy a little wave from afar or when Michael catches Vincent happily beaming up at him amongst the crowd.

“Mwah!” You surprise the twins by coming through the crowd and back to the family table, springing up from behind to give their cheeks a smooch. “There you two are.” 

Your eyes find Esther—the nanny—sitting just across from them at the table. She smiles back at you politely, sitting closely with Vincent and holding little James in her lap. “Welcome back, Mrs. Corleone. We’re just having a cookie break.”

“Cookie break!” Verona exclaims, holding up a chocolate-chip cookie in her hand.

“Enjoy it,” you let out a soft laugh, rubbing both of the twins’ shoulders. “And look at my little ones over here!” You move towards the babies, scooping up James from Esther carefully and planting little kisses over your youngest son’s face. 

“Hi!” You beam back playfully at James, who giggles, clutching onto the front of your dress with his tiny, balled-up hands. “How’s my little cutie? Not quite old enough to have a cookie break with your siblings, right? Mhmm,” you take your seat next to Vincent, happily munching down on a small piece of a cookie.

“Hi, mama.” Vincent proudly holds up a chunk of the cookie in his hand, “I got a cookie.”

“Hi, baby! You got a cookie too?” You pepper little kisses over your three-year-old son’s cheeks. “Mwah—geez, Esther,” you glance up at her, “nobody was exaggerating when they kept saying the children were just mini Michaels?”

You and Esther laugh amongst one another as you shake your head. “It’s true! They look so, so much like their father.”

“I see they resemble you very much, too, if you ask me, Mrs. Corleone,” Esther tells you with a smile. “Both their mother and father.”

“Grandma keeps telling me I have daddy’s nose.” Niccolò grins, biting down on his cookie.

“You do.” Both you and Esther flat out state at the same time, chuckling.

“And now dressing up in tailored silk suits and gelling your hair? You’re the spitting image of him.” You smile back at your son, letting Vincent hold your hand as you gently rub James’ back up and down soothingly. 

“Daddy coming?” Vincent peeks up at you.

Just as you’re about to answer him, you glance around you to find Michael nowhere in sight or near the other family tables—more than likely meaning he’s gone back to his office to speak with a business partner in private yet again.

“Daddy has business to take care of.” You plant a kiss on Vincent’s forehead. “You miss him?”

“Ya.” Vincent nods back at you, smiling shyly. “I miss daddy.”

“You and me both. He’ll be out soon, honey.” You give Vincent’s hand a reassuring, soft squeeze. “Don’t you worry?”

Although you know for yourself it’s no reason to actually worry about it, you can’t get your mind off of Michael’s whereabouts either—especially at such a celebration where the subject at every table is the hospitality of the hosts.

You let out a soft exhale and relax in your seat as you notice drink service beginning to start. Waiters and waitresses begin to spread out around the compound with large trays of champagne and wine—specifically avoiding family tables with children—and all you can think to yourself at this moment is: ‘I think I need a drink too.’

~

As the refreshment service kicks off in full swing, Niccolò and Verona hop from one family table to another; others occupied by their grandparents to their uncles, their aunts, and many more family members all close by to one another.

With Michael still inside his office and nowhere in sight, you join Connie and Sandra at the girls’ table with your sisters-in-law for a glass of wine—refusing to drink near the children.

It’s only when the twins spend some time playing catch with Tom and Theresa’s dogs is when Niccolò realizes his sister isn’t nearly as enthusiastic as he is.

Verona kicks a small pebble in front of her, glancing around the compound glumly as she waits patiently to see her father again. 

Distracted by everything around him, on the other hand, Niccolò remembers just how long it’s been since Michael was here with you and the children the moment he sees the saddened and confused expression on his sister’s face.

“Stai bene, Verona?” (Are you alright?) Niccolò peeks up at his sister as he approaches her.

“Sì,” Verona answers, but without any confidence. “Do you know what’s taking daddy so long?”

Niccolò furrows his brows in confusion, squinting his eyes as he attempts to look past the crowd and back towards the central family residence. “I think he’s still busy in his office like mama said.”

“In his office,” Verona repeats in surprise, glancing towards the estate herself for a moment before looking back at her brother. “Do you think daddy would be upset if we went to see him?”

“Why would daddy be upset?” A grin forms over Niccolo’s face. “We just have to ask to get in to see him, right? We should ask grandpa.”

“Grandpa will let us in?��� Verona giggles.

Niccolò nods back eagerly, “grandpa knows best! Come on,” Niccolò gently takes his sister’s hand in his, leading her through the crowd with a spring in his step as the two skip off towards Mama Corleone and Vito’s table.

Vito is in mid-conversation with a middle-aged couple politely standing by the Corleone family table, making banter with the old Don right up until Vito notices his grandchildren coming towards him from the corner of his eye.

“If you will excuse me for just a moment,” Vito murmurs to the couple, giving them a dismissing nod.

Niccolò and Verona don’t even notice the couple briefly saying their goodbyes before joining the rest of the crowd by the courtyard—simply filled with eager curiosity and questions to ask their grandfather.

“Ciao, nonno!” (Hi, grandpa!) The twins chime out at the same time, making Vito chuckle as he leans off of his seat to hug both of them one by one.

“What brings the two of you rushing up here so quick?”Vito asks his grandchildren, smiling at them.

“We wanted to ask a question,” Verona sheepishly admits, clasping her hands behind her back.

“And what’s that?” Vito’s eyes flicker over Verona and Niccolo’s, easily able to tell they’re both anticipating something. 

“What if…” Niccolò ponders the question for a moment, “Verona and I went inside to see daddy?”

“Your father’s in the middle of a business meeting, but—” Vito pauses, letting out a soft sigh as he shakes his head. “That’s all the two of you have been hearing this evening this evening, isn’t it?”

“It’s like he’s never going to come back to the party, grandpa.” Verona pouts. “I had something special to tell him today.”

“But he is your father after all,” Vito nods at the twins. “Regardless of what he’s doing, he always has time for his family. Now that stiff bodyguard of his…” Vito licks his lips, gesturing with his finger as he tries to remember Al Neri’s name, “Neri. Yes. He may not think the same, so you’ll have to come up with a good excuse to get inside.”

“What should we tell him?” Niccolo’s eyes widen with excitement.

“The truth, of course.” Vito slicks a hand through his hair before adjusting Niccolo’s tie and the ribbons in Verona’s hair gently. “Look at the two of you—distinguished and esteemed business partners, yes? Very important people. Let Neri know that you’ve got important business to tend to, and it can’t wait. What are you going to ask him in there?”

“I wanted to see if daddy could take us on a trip to Reno on the weekend so we could spend some time with him,” Verona answers back shyly. “Or maybe some other time this month if daddy’s busy.”

Niccolo’s about to chime in but remains quiet as he frowns and realizes he can’t remember the last time Michael joined him, you, and the rest of their siblings on a trip to Reno to begin with.

“Then there’s your offer.” Vito chuckles, “go on, go tell him now before someone else gets in line. You know there’s no end to the people who want to see your father tonight.”

“Come on, let’s go!” Niccolò beams back at his sister as the two rush off together in a fit of giggles towards the family estate with only one objective in mind: get in to see Don Corleone himself.

~

Every corner of the Corleone family compound—let alone the various residences comfortably scattered within it—remains heavily guarded. It’s not a sight you nor the children aren’t used to seeing, but for any kind of social outing involving crowds and visitors, security is instantly tripled. 

There isn’t a corner or residence where two guards don’t stand by, and the only guards who visibly appear as security are the ones at every entrance and exit, guarding and parking guest vehicles. 

Every other security guard dresses to impress as if they were a part of the celebration themselves. While they aren’t allowed to imbibe alcohol on duty, other refreshments and the same meal service as the guests are provided to them by their post.

To the eyes of Corleone friends and colleagues, Michael’s elite security and assassins who would not hesitate to kill for their Don and would step in front of a bullet for the Corleone family, they simply appear to be wealthy businessmen enjoying the dinner service and walking around the compound in conversation.

Too young to notice a clear difference, Niccolò and Verona peek up at the two security men guarding the central family residence’s door. The guards don’t need to look twice or ask any questions as they recognize Don’s children and open the door for the twins.

Inconspicuous security remains on every floor but appears to the twins as other businessmen waiting to see their father. The residence is calm and tidy as usual, and nothing is out of the ordinary besides Michael’s security and sentry making surveillance rounds in the building.

As Verona and Niccolò quietly walk side by side towards their father’s office, they can make out very faint sounds of conversation coming from the room. 

Just as Vito had told them, Al Neri is to be found right in front of Michael’s office door and seems somewhat surprised to spot the twins waiting directly outside of their father’s office.

“Hi, Mr. Neri.” Verona chimes up as Niccolò gives him a polite smile.

Al seems momentarily stunned by Niccolo’s striking resemblance to his father with his gelled back hair and little silk suit.

Al gives the twins an acknowledging nod. “What can I do for the two of you?”

“Is daddy busy with a meeting right now?” Niccolò asks.

“He is.” Al nods, aware that he’s going to have to tell the twins any minute now that Michael isn’t going to be coming out any time soon.

“We want to see him next,” Verona says confidently.

Al raises a brow at her in surprise, “why not wait until your father is back out in the compound? He’s preoccupied with other matters at the moment and has asked not to be bothered.”

“That can’t wait.” Niccolò shakes his head, insisting. “We have to see daddy now. We have very important business to discuss with him.” Before Al can even respond, Niccolò continues in a much sterner voice, “don’t you know who we are?”

Al knows he has no jurisdiction over what the twins do or where they go. His job has always been to protect the Corleone family with his life, but he is strictly forbidden from “parenting” or lecturing the children in any manner—let alone getting involved with anything they do.

Niccolò and Verona are quite aware of this, and while they don’t abuse their little “power” over Michael’s men, they know that they’re at a much higher priority than any business meeting.

“Of course.” Al chuckles quietly, amused by the children’s antics. “What should I tell Don Corleone?”

“Tell him we’re going to make him an offer he can’t refuse,” Niccolò replies with a faint smirk over his lips—knowing he picked up that line from hearing Michael and Vito say it.

While Al knows of the twins’ playful nature, he’s also very well aware that, if anything, he’ll be approached by the two in this exact manner but on much less friendly terms in the future.

“Alright then.” Al nods back at the two, “if you would just wait in the living room for a moment, I’ll tell Don Corleone his next business partners have arrived.” Al Neri doesn’t have the luxury to say no or argue with the twins.

“Perfect!” Verona beams, nodding back at Niccolò before the two scurry back off into the living room—giggling quietly amongst one another.

~

“Hey, sweetheart.” Sonny winks, letting out a deep, relaxed exhale as he plops into his seat next to you at the table—balancing a champagne cocktail in one hand and a cigar in the other. “Miss me much?”

“Santino.” You chime out, amused by his disposition as you sip your cocktail. “With you spending all that time by the bar, I thought you’d be more than a little tipsy now.”

“Not even.” Sonny rolls his eyes, setting his champagne down. “It’s just like every other time with Mike ordering around these caterers. Nothing but champagne cocktails and red wine—I think I’m going to end up pissing a mixture of both by the end of tonight.”

You burst out laughing as Sonny grows amused by your reaction, grinning back at you as he leans back in his seat. “Yeah, you see what I mean? Mm, anyways,” Sonny takes a puff from his cigar. “How’s the party goin’ for you besides our lack of drink selection?”

“As good as it can be during every dinner party and celebration. You know me.” You smile back at Sonny, picking up your champagne cocktail. 

“Mrs. Corleone is quite the social butterfly,” Sonny grins playfully and wraps an arm around you, pulling you into a side hug. “Refreshments came out what—twenty? Thirty minutes ago? Are you sick of these cocktails too, or just not in the mood?”

“How about a bit of both?” You watch the bubbling champagne swish around in your glass as you give it a little wave. “After that little trick Connie, Sandra, Deanna, and I pulled with our cocktail party? I think I’m the reason why we aren’t allowed any other drinks.”

You and Sonny laugh in unison together as he gives your arm a gentle squeeze. “Here, here, mm—” Sonny puts his cigar loosely in the corner of his mouth and takes your champagne cocktail from your hand. “Maybe if you make him regret this too, we’ll get better drink service.” Sonny moves the champagne flute up to your lips, gazing at you expectantly. “Bottom’s up, darlin’.”

You place your lips on the rim of the glass as Sonny helps you drink down the champagne; Sonny’s eyes are lingering over your lips as you easily swallow down half of the glass. “Mmm…”

“And if Mike’s made sure everything here has even less alcohol content—” Sonny carefully sets down the champagne glass in front of you, wiping off the dribble of champagne by your bottom lip with his finger before popping it into his mouth. “Then you can taste…” Sonny takes his finger out of his mouth, “the drink better.”

You stare back at Sonny, momentarily stunned by not only his boldness at Michael’s absence but also what he’s done, which only amplifies Sonny’s playful mood from the look on his face.

It’s one thing to share champagne with one another and sit at the family table, but the memory of Michael almost having broken Sonny’s nose with his own hand is near and dear. That’s the only thing you remember as you shake your head and wipe off your mouth with a napkin.

“It’s sure as hell gonna take me a lot more than a few drinks to get drunk tonight,” Sonny takes the cigar out of his mouth, blowing out smoke as he keeps his arm around your shoulder. “Sandra would never let me, let alone Mike.” He chuckles to himself. “All in good fun then, whatever. I’ll lay back, have a drink or two, talk to the guests—you know how it is.” Sonny gestures around the compound with his free hand, holding the cigar in between his fingers. “Delicious food, pretty ladies—I mean damn, even Esther’s dressed up and looks pretty for once.”

Your eyes dart over to Esther—the family nanny under Corleone service—having already noticed her plum-colored, A-line dress she’s wearing for the evening. 

Esther’s appearance doesn’t match the tone or dress code of the party exactly, but she’s put some effort into her look for the evening to be respectful to the Corleone family’s celebration and not particularly stand out in her regular, non-formal wardrobe. 

“For once?” You raise a curious brow at Sonny.

“I mean, whatever.” Sonny shrugs his shoulders, “she hasn’t before, at least not enough for me to notice or care, buuuuut…” He clears his throat, smirking at you before gesturing to your black dress. “You, on the other hand, are gorgeous.”

‘More like ridiculously sexy, pull your panties off with my teeth if you wanted me to kind of gorgeous…’ Sonny thinks to himself.

“Thank you,” you pick up your champagne flute again—very well aware that Sonny’s eyes are still all over you and always will be whenever he gets a chance.

What remains unknown to the rest of you—including the twins—is that Michael continues to preoccupy himself with even more work to do. Making five million dollars in one night with the evening barely half over means procedure, more meanings, and lots of “legal” paperwork with Tom to legitimize it all. 

Sonny is well aware of his brother’s business plans for the night and, if anything, could care less about how bold and forward he’s being by flirting with you, his sister-in-law, behind Michael’s back.

It’s Al Neri standing by the guest tables towards the back of the compound that’s noticed every single move Sonny’s made towards you, down to his body language. Neri knows that all he’d have to do is tell Michael, but he is not quite sure if Michael shattering Sonny’s jaw would be best during a family celebration like this just yet.

~

“Thank you kindly, Don Corleone. You won’t regret it.” Enthusiasm and out of breath excitement once again leave the lips of one of Michael’s business partners. 

Now that the businessman’s dealings and interests are protected, and he knows he’s pleased the Don with a lucrative business deal that’ll benefit Michael before anyone else, it’s another six million in the Corleone family’s pocket but no end in sight to the business meetings coming in for tonight.

Michael gives his business partner a half nod of acknowledgment, much more concerned about finishing his current cigarette. Michael doesn’t bother to look up again from his desk until he hears his office door click shut.

Only when Michael hears Al Neri enter the office a moment after does he look up, only in expectation to hear the name and purpose of the next visit from his business partners. “Who's next?”

Al Neri clears his throat, not sure whether to quite literally admit to Michael that his children are to see him or to introduce the twins as business partners. 

Still, seeing no harm in keeping his word to the twins, as Neri knows any confusion caused will be cleared up the moment Michael’s own children enter the office, Al Neri answers Michael’s question. “Two business partners, Don Corleone.”

“Names, Neri.” Michael puts out his shortened cigarette into his ashtray.

“Frankly, sir,” Neri clears his throat, unsure whether he should still be holding back his smile. “They chose not to be named.”

“Alright.” Michael exhales, grabbing his cigarette pack off of his desk. 

Just a moment after Neri steps out of Michael’s office, he beckons for the twins to enter. Keeping their excited footsteps as heavy and steady as possible, Niccolò and Verona exchange excited glances with one another before finally entering the father’s office.

Across from Niccolò and Verona remains Michael in his dupioni silk, grey suit sitting upright in his leather seat by his office desk. 

Four cigarettes remain scrunched up and put out in the ashtray in front of Michael, and the curtains behind him that would otherwise reveal the ongoing celebration on the compound cover the windows entirely.

“Hi, daddy!” The twins blurt out at the same time, barely able to keep their enthusiasm.

Michael immediately raises his head and drops his pack of cigarettes back down on his desk without taking anything out. 

Surprised for a brief moment to see his children and Al Neri out of sight, Michael’s eyes warm with emotion for the first time since he’s stepped back into his office.

Michael pulls his seat back just in time for Niccolò and Verona to rush up into his arms, giggling. Hugging his children back in surprise and confusion, Michael glances down at the giddy twins with anticipation growing in their eyes.

“Niccolò—Verona, what are you two doing here? This is for business. Daddy’s doing business right now.” Michael runs his hand softly through both of the twins’ hair. 

“We have business for you too, daddy!” Verona bubbles.

“Yeah!” Niccolò adds. “We have something to tell you!”

“Could it wait when I step out?” Michael asks softly, being patient with the twins.

Verona’s smile immediately sours to a saddened pout. “But daddy…”

In truth, for the past few months, Michael has been much busier than before, but at the same time, it hasn’t been unusual for him to be either. 

In the past six months, Michael’s made more “friends” in powerful places from not just your father’s business partners and colleagues but also from all over Nevada and New York—including investors, more politicians, judges, and bankers in the Corleone family service and dealings.

Michael makes the final decisions on everything when it comes to Corleone family-owned real estate, businesses, investments, hotels, casinos, and anything else registered under the family name, whether it be a legitimate business or illegal mafia dealings.

It’s not that Michael’s unable to find a better time to do his business or that he manages all of it himself, but that the Corleone family’s rapid success this year of 1958 had bolstered—reminding Michael much of his father Vito when he first began his Genco olive oil business.

Even if it hadn’t been for consistent business meetings and offers made tonight, Michael nonetheless remains a busy man, to begin with, and always has since Vito went into semi-retirement. Still, Michael’s never been one to neglect his family and is aware that he’s capable of doing so unintentionally.

Just as Michael knows tonight is a special occasion celebrated by friends and colleagues, he also knows he’s not being neglectful to any of his children. If Michael can’t find a way to make it up to you or the twins the day of, he puts in an effort to do it afterward—something the twins have happily picked up on.

While little Vincent and baby James are much too young to realize this, the twins know regardless of how busy their father may be, Michael is a huge part of their lives and has never strayed away from spending a single free moment he could with his children.

On the other hand, you and Michael have both taught the twins growing up through decision-making that you two won’t simply say “yes” to every request the children make to protect them and teach them what’s good for them. 

You and Michael have always considered everything the twins have said and wanted to do and worked it out as parents to see if you could—whether it be to go out, buy a new toy, try a new hobby, and so forth. 

“Nooo, it can’t wait.” Verona frowns at her father.

“We’re gonna make you an offer you can’t refuse.” Niccolò beams proudly with confidence.

For what seems like the first time in many weeks, Michael chuckles in amusement at Niccolo’s response. “Did your grandfather teach you that phrase?”

“Yes.” Niccolò can hardly hold back his giggling.

“Alright.” Michael folds his hands on his lap, his expression and tone growing serious as he looks at the twins. “So you’re both business partners of the Corleone family. Who has what to tell me?”

“Me.” Verona happily takes a little step forward.

“Okay, Mrs. Corleone,” a faint smile can be seen on the corners of Michael’s lips. “Let’s hear your business proposal.”

“I was wondering if maybe you could please take us to Reno for the weekend, daddy?” Verona asks politely. “Or! Or maybe the weekend after that?”

“Reno?” Michael repeats. “How come you two want to visit?”

“Lots of reasons!” Niccolò adds, “the theater shows are so cool, and auntie Connie used to take us shopping, and mama found this lovely café we went to last time, remember?”

“Of course I do.” Michael ruffles Niccolo’s hair. “I’ll think about it, alright?”

Verona and Niccolò exchange glances with one another, having expected a much different response.

“That’s a no, daddy?” Verona peeks back at her father for confirmation.

“I’m not sure, darling,” Michael tells her. “I’m very busy with business lately, and I may be working this weekend or the next as well.”

“We haven’t been out for a while,” Niccolò glumly says.

“I know.” Michael takes Niccolo’s small hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We can all plan it together when I have more time, alright?”

“Okay.” The twins say out at the same time.

“When will you come back out, daddy?” Verona asks, gesturing out the office door.

“I’m not sure, sweetheart.” Michael looks back at his daughter. “Soon, I hope.”

“Will you see the fireworks with us, daddy?” Niccolò asks eagerly.

“I’ll try, but I can’t make any promises,” Michael replies, noticing the sad look lingering in his children’s eyes.

Michael lets out a soft, deep exhale before gesturing to himself. “Come here, you two.”

Little smiles form on the twins’ faces as they embrace Michael in a warm hug. 

Michael wraps both of his arms around Niccolò and Verona equally, giving their backs a little rub before planting a kiss on each of their foreheads and pulling away. 

“I love you both, and I’ll try to be out as soon as I can, alright?” Michael says back.

“Okay, daddy.” The expression on the twins’ faces lightens up as they nod back at their father, beginning to quietly exit his office together.

Al Neri gestures to one of Michael’s private security standing by in the living room to accompany the twins back to the family table outside. 

Neri then glances back into Michael’s office, knowing while he doesn’t have any further guests to speak with, this doesn’t account for the amount of paperwork to be done and decisions to be made.

Michael stretches out his arms before tightening his black silk tie. “Neri, I’m taking a restroom break.” He rises from his seat, glancing at Al. “I won’t be taking in any more guests for tonight, so close off the door for me, if you would.”

“Yes, Don Corleone.” Al Neri nods back, standing aside by the door so Michael’s able to step out. 

Michael runs a careful hand throughout the sides of his gelled hair, keeping it neat without any loose strands coming out while he makes his way towards the bathroom down the hallway.

~

After another round of small talk and greetings with a handful of colleagues, you find yourself wandering through the crowds of guests in the courtyard along with a half-full flute of champagne in your hand.

Michael is still nowhere to be seen, although the two of you are aware the

You nibble over your bottom lip, pretending as if you have somewhere to go and preferably back to the family table before another handful of guests distracts you in a meaningless, long conversation again.

You let out a soft sigh, feeling like you’re standing out of place at your own party. Your eyes glance up to see the Hagen family table near yours, where Tom and Theresa share a glass of red wine together; Tom’s arms around Theresa’s waist as she blushes and gazes up at her husband.

Their cuddling and clingy-like behavior only reminds you again how badly you wish Michael was with you doing the same. Of course, you remember Michael’s business plans and meetings take priority over something as dull (in his words) as a dinner party, and with the length of Michael’s absence, you assume to yourself that whatever he’s dealing with at the moment must be crucial.

You’re about to approach your family table when you notice Mama Corleone sitting with the children and speaking softly to Vincent and James in Italian. Esther’s nowhere to be seen either, which not only confuses you but strikes you as concerning, knowing her role as the nanny is to be with the children at all times.

At the same time, you’re not aware of the twins exiting the central family residence a distance behind you. Niccolò and Verona peek up and are the first to see Esther heading inside and taking a right turn towards the office wing with not so much urgency in her steps but enthusiasm like she can’t wait to enter. 

“Mama!” You hear Niccolo’s voice coming from behind you as the twins eagerly rush up to you.

You spin back to see Niccolò and Verona beaming as they approach you with excitement, simply happy to spot you out of the crowd.

“Hey, you two.” You smile back, rubbing both of the twins’ shoulders. “Everything alright? Where did you guys go?”

“We went in to see daddy.” Verona nods, rather proud of herself for admitting so.

“You went in to see daddy.” You repeat to yourself, a little stunned. “Oh, what for?”

“We asked if he could maybe take us to Reno this weekend or the next,” Niccolò tells you sheepishly. “We miss going with you and daddy again.”

“Yeah!” Verona bubbles, “maybe it could be fun, mama, and we could take Auntie Connie and Uncle Leo too.”

“Of course, we could.” You tell her, running your hands through her hair gently. “I would like that myself very much. I’ve missed Reno lately.”

“Yeah.” Niccolò pouts, enthusiasm draining from his voice.

Verona exchanges a sad glance with her brother. “Daddy said no.”

“No?” You raise a brow. “But why? It’s not like we’re going today or tomorrow.”

“Daddy says he’s very busy and can’t plan it yet.” Niccolò can’t hide the disappointed look in his eyes. “I know daddy has work to do; I’m just… I’m a little sad, mama.”

“And it’s okay to be sad. It’s something you two are looking forward to, right?” You give the twins a reassuring smile. “It’s true, your father’s been a little busy as of late, but Reno is only an hour away, so if we can’t go on the weekend, we could maybe go for a half-day trip after your studies are done for the day.”

“After school?” Verona’s eyes light up with excitement. “I like that idea too, mama.”

“But daddy would have said so, right?” You can hear the uncertainty in Niccolo’s voice. “What if he’s too busy for that too, mama?”

“So busy he couldn’t give you two a day of the week?” You begin to realize Michael’s absence is clearly getting out of control.

“Daddy said he couldn’t because he doesn’t know when he can take us.” Verona shakes her head.

“Hmm.” You hold back a frown, “tell you what—I’ll ask, and it’ll all be okay. We can officially plan a nice trip out to Reno once I have a talk with your father, okay?”

“Yes, okay, mama!” The twins look up at you with hope. 

“Good, good.” You gently pinch both of their cheeks. “Oh, and have either of you seen Esther around lately?”

“I saw her go inside.” Niccolò points back at the central family residence behind him.

“Oh.” You blink in surprise.

“Maybe she went to see daddy.” Verona shrugs, “I saw her go down that way.”

“Alright, no worries.” You hold back your concern, smooching both of the twins’ cheeks. “Be good now, alright? Let’s behave and be polite. Besides, Uncle Clemenza and Uncle Frankie want to see you two, so don’t keep them waiting.”

“Okay!” Verona giggles.

“Uncle Frankie and Uncle Clemenza are heeeere!” Niccolò gives you a quick hug before taking his sister’s hand and skipping off towards the family tables.

You can’t help but smile at the twins, all giddy and enjoying themselves. You make sure to watch them get to the family table with Clemenza and Frank Pentangelli before you turn back around to face the central family residence and decide to head inside and see Michael for yourself.

‘Enough is enough…’ 

It’s not that you question Michael’s business or have any suspicion of what he’s doing, but rather that you know the children don’t understand the nature of their father’s absence like you do. 

It’s not like you can just tell the twins: “Your father is Don Michael Corleone, the most powerful mafia boss in the United States who controls every major hotel, resort, and casino in the state of New York, Nevada and New Jersey, including the drug trade there and in Sicily too—not to mention other illicit deals and practices under the family criminal organization.” Although eventually, the twins would come to learn it soon enough through time and when they’re much older—if they choose to join the family business.

You walk into the manor with ease, ignoring the security guards scattered over the residence. Taking a right turn down the corridor, you notice the area around Michael’s office, including the living room, is completely silent.

‘Where’s Neri?’ You furrow your brows in confusion as you slow your movements, standing just a few feet away from Michael’s office door only to notice that Al Neri isn’t even outside of it as he usually is. 

Come to think of it, you notice none of Michael’s security is near his office, to begin with, and even as you remain silent and move closer towards the door, you still can’t pick up any sound of anybody being in the office—Michael included.

Met only with silence, your attention breaks from Michael’s office only to hear noise coming from further down the hallway. 

‘What…?’ Listening intently, you place your hand against the wall of the hallway and make your way towards the sound, which begins to lead you directly down to the nearest bathroom by Michael’s office.

The carpet beneath you muffles out the sounds of your heels, and with each further step you take, you can make out the shuffling of footsteps and two ushered voices coming from the bathroom.

You remain only a mere few feet away from approaching the bathroom entirely, but with each step you take and every passing moment, the anxiety growing inside of you begins to triple.

‘That’s Esther. I can hear her.’ Esther was last seen heading down this hallway, and you can now clearly hear her soft whimpers coming from the bathroom, not exactly something one would hear from somebody freshening up or simply using the bathroom. 

Michael is nowhere to be seen, but the side and back exits of the central family residence are off-limits for the party as the manor faces the front of the party, and you’ve even come to briefly see security standing in front of the other doors rather than beside them to let others through.

“Mm!” You hear Esther desperately attempting to quiet down what you can now clearly make out as moaning.

You can hear the sounds of two people in the bathroom without a doubt and begin to hesitate as to what to do next.

‘Michael…’ Your eyes consistently flicker back to Michael’s office door in some sort of attempt to convince yourself otherwise instead of what could possibly be the worst-case scenario. 

Feeling your heart thundering heavily in your chest, you turn away from the hallway leading down to the bathroom and walk back up to Michael’s office door. 

You grab the doorknob, twisting it to push open the door, only to see Michael’s office desk empty with nobody inside. 

‘Where the hell is he?’ Panic begins to ring out through you as you rake a shaky hand through your hair out of frustration. 

You can’t even find Al Neri, knowing he accompanies Michael everywhere at all times—except when he’s obviously spending time with his family or with you intimately, and he’s certainly not going to be in the bathroom with the Don either.

You take a few more steps towards Michael’s desk and notice a freshly put-out cigarette in the center of Michael’s ashtray, but his cigarette pack is missing, at least letting you know that he’s been here recently and just put this out. 

‘No. It’s impossible. He wouldn’t…’ Ridden with waves of anxiety crashing over you, you feel as if you’re practically dragging yourself out of Michael’s door. A sense of weakness hits your knees as you walk out of the office, barely able to shut the door behind you.

‘Would he?’ Taking in a deep breath, you force yourself to go back to the bathroom with regret but a morbid curiosity inside of you. 

‘This obvious? Where anyone can come in and hear?’ The tips of your ears and the nape of your neck prickle up from your anxiousness as you could have just sworn to yourself you hear a breathy moan coming from someone other than Esther from the bathroom.

‘Oh my fucking God. Esther…’ You flinch, stopping in your tracks to hear Esther now moaning loudly in the bathroom—assumingly unable to keep quiet for much longer to you.

“Yes, Mr. Corleone!” Esther moans shakily, almost instantly confirming your suspicions.

Your eyes begin to burn with tears at what you know you’re about to see next after noticing from the doorknob that the bathroom door isn’t locked. 

‘Why? Why this?’ Every step further you take feels like absolute agony, and you’re unable to deny the intensity of just how distraught and nerve-wracked you feel about walking in on this. 

Then again, if you choose to turn away and pretend you weren’t there but keep it to yourself, there’d be no possible way you could bring this up to Michael and “catch” him on it. 

“Have either of you seen Esther around lately?”

You know your husband well, and without any credible proof, if he truly didn’t regret what he did, Michael wouldn’t react to your accusation, nor would he “believe” you saw anything either.

“Maybe she went to see daddy.”

A desperate urge to be proven wrong surges through you as you can no longer stop yourself from directly approaching the bathroom door. 

“Neri, I’m taking a restroom break.”

You lightly lean your forehead against the door so as not to make a sound, reaching out a shaky hand and yet still being unable to find the courage to grasp the doorknob and burst in with it.

The idea of Michael fucking the family nanny, let alone at a party which would also explain his absence and right after he spoke to the children, is the only blow needed to tear apart your marriage and your family.

The fact that you can hear Esther now attempting to keep her moans quietly but failing miserably just like how you do pisses you off more than anything else—replacing your anguish with bitter rage.

With one swift movement, you twist the doorknob open and pull open the door as you normally would—knowing now it’s not going to matter if you burst in or make it look like you accidentally wandered in.

Your eyes widen in shock to see Esther pressed up against the sink with one thigh raised over it as Sonny slams all eleven inches of his cock into Esther from behind, tightly clutching the bunched up fabric of her dress.

If that isn’t enough of a sight to stun you, Sonny gazes back at you with a lazy look of lust in his eyes as if he’s used to getting caught like this, and it doesn’t matter. 

Esther clasps a hand over her mouth, horrified that you’ve caught her like this, as utter embarrassment and humiliation flushes through her expression. 

Relief should be the last thing you feel walking in on your own brother-in-law fucking the family nanny, but it dissipates every bit of worry that was eating you alive just a mere moment ago.

You clear your throat, blinking and diverting your gaze before quietly closing the door and turning back on your heel.

You let out a deep exhale, feeling a bit hot and bothered at the sight but also knowing had anyone else walked in onto it, there’d be hell to pay. 

Hoping Sonny learns to lock the doors of the bathrooms he goes to fuck his next mistress in, you tenderly rub your temples and take in deep breaths to ease yourself of the anxiety.

‘Michael, just where are you now?’ 

 ~

Michael cleared his throat quietly and lathered soap over his hands thoroughly as he washed his hands in the bathroom sink.

Having noticed for himself that the bathroom closest to his office was preoccupied already—but by whom and for how long unbeknownst to him—Michael’s used the next closest one by the lobby to his office while you were still out in the courtyard with the twins.

Having made it clear to Al Neri that he isn’t to take any further guests for business tonight, Michael stepped out into the back of the residence and towards the pool that remained still; a private clearing protected by his security for Michael to have a breath of fresh air before returning back to the party.

Michael adjusts the cuffs of his dress shirt before reaching into the pockets of his trousers and grabbing his cigarette pack with a lighter. 

Al Neri gives a nod of acknowledgment to the security standing around the pool area, distantly watching the party from the back of the residence in the shadows. 

Neri remains by Michael’s side but at an appropriate distance, leaning his back against the residence wall and remaining just as silent like the others.

Michael puts a cigarette in the corner of his mouth and holds his palm against the flickering flame of his lighter—quick to light it as he sits on the edge of one of the pool lounge chairs.

Taking a deep, initial drag, Michael lets his lighter slip back into his suit pocket. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, easing off the annoyance, stress, and dullness of every business meeting he’s had for tonight.

Michael tilts his head back and gazes up at the star-scattered night sky above him, appreciative that he can at least catch his breath and enjoy peace of mind here—even if it is just for a moment.

The only thought in Michael’s mind remains to be how he wishes he could have you by his side at the moment, enjoying some privacy with one another before becoming the inevitable center of attention again at the party. 

Michael lets out a quiet, deep sigh. He glances down at his grey loafers, his black silk tie dangling downward as he sits with his thoughts quietly.

Barely three minutes of peace pass before Michael’s head turns to face the back exit door he came out of, hearing disgruntled noises of a struggle and the semi-familiar voice of a man crying out.

“Please, let me see him!”

A few of Michael’s security immediately move towards the door while Neri wastes no time in standing next to Michael with another security guard.

“What’s going on?” Michael narrows his eyes, appearing more annoyed than anything else. He redirects his irritation to Al Neri, “I thought I made it clear I wouldn’t be seeing anyone else for tonight.”

“I personally guaranteed it, Don Corleone. There should not be.” A look of surprise and caution cross Neri’s face as Michael’s guards pull open the door, revealing two other security guards hauling and manhandling one of Michael’s guests by his arms.

Michael raises a curious brow but neither reacts nor says anything as a balding, middle-aged man named Alberto he’s familiar with in business and as a guest at tonight’s party, is practically thrown to the ground before him.

“Don Corleone, we caught one of your guests trying to get into the residence.” One guard harshly holds onto the man’s arm. “When he was told you were not taking any guests, he tried to get in himself and failed.”

“We’re prepared to contact authorities and have him and his family removed, sir.” The other guard says.

“D-Don,” Alberto coughs out on the ground, bewildered by the sight of Michael standing before him. “Don Corleone, please! Please, I’m begging you—I had to see you tonight, I had to!”

Michael exchanges a glance with Al Neri before flicking his cigarette ashes to the floor, appearing unmoved. “Must be something of great importance if you went to such risk to see me.”

“I would have waited as long as possible if it wasn’t, Don Corleone.” Alberto shakes his head, “I tried to reason with your men, but they would not listen to me, Godfather—”

Interrupting Alberto, one of Michael’s security guards kicks him in the stomach, which crumples the man to his knees. “We speak on the Don’s behalf when it comes to which guests he’s seeing. His safety and privacy are of our utmost importance. You do not stand before your Don as a respectful man due to your idiotic actions tonight.”

“Argh!” Alberto cries out in pain, “forgive me, Godfather! Forgive me.”

Michael raises his hand, signaling, ‘that’s enough’ before staring down at his guest. “What have you wishing to see me so urgently like this? I would have preferred to hear from you personally so I could have arranged to see you in my office sooner.”

“Yes, yes, absolutely!” Alberto nods frantically, still wincing in pain. “I tried to reach you, Don Corleone, believe me. I would have wanted the circumstances of our meeting to be different as well. I…” Alberto hesitantly looks up at Michael, unnerved by the mere power in Michael’s presence. 

Michael only remains closely acquainted with Turnbull, Klingman, Senator Geary, and the other businessmen he met in Cuba, whereas everyone else may just be a familiar name on a banknote or a common face seen from time to time at a party. Alberto is no different from Michael.

Alberto’s business may concern Michael because he owns several small motels for out-of-town workers and travelers, which has proven to be a profitable business due to its affordability and scope to all.

“Speak.” Michael looks down at Alberto, continuing to smoke his cigarette. 

“Don Corleone, my long-time business rival, seeks to blackmail me out of the industry completely! The madman knows he cannot get a reaction out of me, so he chooses to harass and threaten my family. I have just started my expansion, and I am being kicked out of my own business and state! I don’t know what to do, Godfather.” Alberto bursts out into tears, leaning down to Michael’s feet and bowing his head. 

“And why do you come to me for this?” Michael knows the answer to his rhetorical question but watches Alberto’s distraught disposition.

“I come to my Godfather first, nobody else.” Alberto sniffles shakily, kissing Michael’s feet. “Only my Godfather can help me. I trust in you with my life—with my children’s lives, Don Corleone.”

Al Neri tenses at the sight of Michael being touched and carefully keeps his eyes on his Don and Alberto cautiously. 

Michael remains nonchalant, blowing out smoke around him. “This motel business of yours—is it your only source of income?”

“Y-yes. I am not a wealthy man Don Corleone, nor do I have the mind as you do for business. I just wanted to feed my children and take care of my family, but I have death threats at my door, and I lose customers by the week. I’m afraid they’re being bought off or threatened as well!” Alberto hiccups throughout his sobbing. “I-It was my dream to own a little chain of motels since I was a growing boy, you see. I scrubbed floors and worked hard for every penny I had so I could support my family. This isn’t fair to me, Godfather.”

“I agree.” Michael nods stiffly. “This can not stand.”

“Don Corleone.” Desperation grows in Alberto’s voice as he gets back to his knees. “I come to my Godfather in my hour of need.” He clutches his hands together, “I’m always happy to provide your men mattresses and hideouts when needed. Always! Please honor a humble associate of yours with your assistance, I beg of you.”

Smoke trails from between Michael’s lips as he lets his cigarette fall to the floor, crushing it with the heel of his shoe. “I respect your honesty and integrity, Alberto. You are right. Nobody else can help you now. Stand up; let me see your face properly.”

“Y-yes, Don Corleone.” Alberto scrambles up to his feet, brushing off the dirt and dust from his suit. 

“Hm.” Michael gazes back at him, clearly able to tell Alberto put himself through hell and back just to see him alone—already a good show of his character. “You assisted my father back in ’47 when we went to the mattresses with Tattaglia and Barzini. I haven’t forgotten that, and neither has he. You’re a good man, Alberto.” Michael mirrors Vito perfectly without even trying to do so. “Your rival may as well be blackmailing me. I’ll help you.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you, Don Corleone! Forgive me for asking, Don Corleone,” Alberto squeezes his eyes shut, eternally grateful to even hear a response from Michael. “But how shall it be done?”

“Bribes and relocation won’t do you any good in your line of business.” Michael tightens his tie, “nothing puts out a rival from a business like killing him. This will serve as a warning for the rest.”

“Thank you a thousand times over, Godfather.” Overwhelmed with emotion and thanking Michael endlessly, Alberto takes Michael’s hand and kisses his ring, lowering his head. “Grazie. Grazie mille, padrino. Ti sono per sempre grato.” (Thank you. Thank you so much, Godfather. I am forever grateful to you.)

Michael allows Alberto to kiss his ring, remaining still and gazing down at the man in his mercy. Even as Alberto respectfully pulls away, he staggers over his own feet and chokes on his tears from how relieved he is—knowing Michael always keeps his word.

“He’s ruthless, cruel, and cunning. His silence is lethal, but his eyes speak for him. His patience and patience alone decides whether you’re even worth considering—it’s what keeps you alive. He’s the brutal side of his father incarnated; that is who Don Corleone is.”

~

Michael was nearing the end of his conversation outside with Alberto by the time you had entered the central family residence to look for him. By the time Michael had returned to his office shortly after, you were back outside at the party trying to find him with no luck.

You know, it would almost be downright embarrassing at this point to ask the guests where their own host is when you, of all people, should know before anyone else. 

You quickly gave up on your search within the courtyard and throughout the party, knowing you’d be able to spot Michael anywhere with just the slightest clue. No individual of his build with slicked back, dark hair in a grey, silk, Dupioni suit was to be seen with the family or with the guests outside.

As soon as one of your security guards let you know, “Don Corleone never left the central family residence, Mrs. Corleone,” you made your way straight back inside now with frustration and impatience in your disposition.

Embarrassed you’ve been running around for the last ten minutes just trying to find your own husband, you feel some relief spotting Al Neri standing outside of Michael’s office as usual now.

The two of you say nothing to one another and only exchange acknowledging glances as you approach the door. Neri gives you a respectful nod which is both an invitation inside and an indication there’s nobody seeing Michael or in line to do so.

Although you’ve probably walked into Michael’s office hundreds of times, you still can’t brush off the butterflies you feel whenever you push open the door and peek inside.

Michael remains sitting at his desk, carefully signing several papers neatly placed in front of him on his desk. A freshly lit cigarette rests on the side of Michael’s ashtray to his left, and the scent of cigarette smoke and Michael’s cologne mixes—lingering in the air.

From where you stand, the light in Michael’s office gleams over his heavily gelled hair, causing both his 18k gold watch and wedding band to glisten and reflect. 

You take a step inside of Michael’s office and quietly close the door behind you, and although Michael’s been aware of your presence since you approached the door, he neither reacts nor looks up.

Blush stings your cheeks at the sight of your husband, regardless of how much running around you’ve been doing to find him. You’ll never get used to the sight of him like this, let alone his presence, from how ridiculously attractive he is.

“Hi, baby.” You sigh softly in relief, finally having Michael all to yourself and right in front of you for what seems to be one of the first few times this evening.

“Hello, darling.” You hear Michael say back quietly, not bothering to look up at you.

Recognizing how busy Michael is, your eyes dart over to the paperwork scattered before him on his desk, now beginning to approach him.

‘Fuck...’ Remaining quiet, you place your hands down gently on Michael’s desk and peek over at your husband as you admire him.

Michael’s side profile, for one, is something else to behold. Your eyes dart over the shape of his Roman nose down to his pouty, full lips over to his jawline and cheekbones. 

The butterflies swarming in your gut and a familiar tug of arousal is nothing new as you know when it comes to Michael, you’re insatiable—in bed with him or not.

“Do you need something, Victoria?” Michael asks expectantly. His tone of voice is neither distracted nor demanding, but it clearly tells you he’s busy and anticipating whatever you have to say will be as quick as possible.

Although you’ve practically chased around the compound for the past ten minutes looking for Michael, you find yourself a bit stunned by his question and unable to immediately answer.

“When are you going to come back out to the party, baby?” Is the only thing that comes out of your mouth as you wonder to yourself if Michael’s noticed your staring. 

“Who's asking?” Michael continues to keep his attention on his paperwork.

“Me. The twins. The family. Your guests.” You stare back at Michael in disbelief. “We’re the hosts, and you’ve barely been seen out there, Michael. When will you be back out with me?”

“I’m busy, darling,” Michael answers flatly, picking up his cigarette and taking a drag out of it.

 Both of you know by now that answer will neither suffice nor work as an excuse.

“Yes, I can see that.” You momentarily glance over at his paperwork, “but I’m asking you something, baby.”

Michael blows out smoke around him before putting down his cigarette. He almost seems irritated by the question but, at the same time, completely unphased. “Is my absence a problem?” 

Taken back by his question, you frown and furrow your brows. “At this point? Well, yes. Is it not that way to you, or do you prefer to do work instead of spending time with us?”

Michael lets out a soft sigh, setting his pen down. He licks over his lips and puts his cigarette between his fingers before turning his head to face you and giving you his full attention. “No.”

“The twins just came up to me all excited to make plans with you and…” You shake your head, “you just refused?”

“I didn’t refuse.” Michael’s answers are short and concise. “I said I would have to consider a day.” He puts his cigarette in the corner of his mouth, inhaling a drag.

“Yeah.” Disappointment forms over your expression. “That’s been your classic answer to everything for the past two weeks. What’s going on, Michael? This isn’t like you.”

“This isn’t like me?” Michael stares back at you, deadpan. “I’m working. I have a business to handle, so how many times do I need to repeat this?”

“Stop.” You mumble back at him, crossing your arms. “You’re being much more distant than usual, and I know you know that.”

“I don’t see it that way.” Michael blows out his cigarette smoke away from you. 

Frustration begins to hit you at Michael’s stubbornness, knowing it’s always been at an all-time high when it comes to his work and the “family business.”

“It doesn’t matter what you see right now, does it?” You frown at him. “Michael, I’m serious.”

“Victoria,” Michael flicks off the ashes of his cigarette onto the ashtray, looking increasingly annoyed. “What do you want from me right now?”

“Come out to spend some time with us at the very least.” You say back and insistently notice pure irritation in Michael’s eyes at your response as he keeps his cigarette loosely in the corner of his mouth. “Not just tonight but with us in Reno this weekend or the next, even if it’s just for half a day or something.”

“Not for this weekend and not for the next either.” Michael turns back to face his paperwork. “I can’t.”

“And why’s that?” At this point, you’re grasping nothing but straws by continuing to ask Michael.

“Because I have business.” Michael’s response is much more stern this time. “I expect you of all people to understand.”

“Of course I understand, but this is getting ridiculous, Michael. Seriously. You’re not even listening to me.” You scoff.

“I am.” Michael stares back at you. “But I hate repeating myself, Victoria, and that appears to be all I’m doing at the moment.”

“Getting anything out of you is like squeezing blood from a stone, you know that?” You roll your eyes. “God forbid I take you away from your paperwork to spend some time with your wife and children.”

“If you’re going to insult me out of frustration, I suggest you’d be better off spending time with our guests.” Michael glances up at you, putting the cap back onto his pen.

“You’re deflecting everything I say. How can I not get frustrated right now?” You huff. “Forget Reno and the party—do I also have to remind you that this happened again last night? All I wanted to do was snuggle up with you, but you were holed up in here until 3AM. This isn’t just about tonight, you know that.” You shake your head, tucking a curtain of your hair behind your ear. “We haven’t even had sex—”

“You want to have sex with me?” Michael asks you outright.

Your face flushes red as you blush furiously at the sudden question he’s caught you off guard with. “I—Well, yes? I mean—yeah—we haven’t had sex in days now, so—”

“I’m aware of that.” Michael cuts you off. “I don’t have to tell you why again, do I?”

“Michael, really? Do you hear yourself right now?” You raise both of your brows at him, now very much annoyed yourself. “If I have to hear that wo—”

“I’m busy, Victoria. That’s all there is to it. When was the last time I walked into your office at the courthouse and asked you to have sex with me?” Michael places a new pen in front of him.

“You—I—what?” You blink back in surprise, “we didn’t—you didn’t—”

“Exactly, I didn’t.” Michael continues calmly. “The last time was four days ago. This isn’t an issue that you need to bring up.”

“We had sex almost every single day.” You point out. “We cuddled together in the morning and snuggled at night; now I’ve been clutching a cold pillow because you’re in here until God knows when. That just happened so suddenly—am I not allowed to be upset about it after being used to your intimacy like that?”

“I never said you weren’t. All I’m saying is that it’s not a grand and drastic change like you’re making it out to be. This is beyond my control.” He tells you, “when I have business, I have business—and it comes first. Everything else can wait. I’m the Don. I have to take care of our family. And now, if you can’t already tell, we’ve surpassed the conversation of our party guests, who are most likely waiting to see you as you waste your time and my time in here, as well as the trip planning for Reno. Now we’re talking about sex.” Michael clearly doesn’t look amused. 

“You sing a different tune in bed.” You roll your eyes. “All I’m saying—”

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, Victoria.” Michael scolds you sternly. “I told you for the last time, I’m busy.”

"Busy, busy, busy," you purposefully roll your eyes again, throwing your hands up in the air as your diamond bracelets clink against one another. "I don't want to hear that fucking word anymore! The children can't spend time with their father, and now—"

"Quiet!" Michael sharply raises his voice over yours, silencing you immediately. "That isn't remotely true, and you know it. I spend as much of my time with you and the family as possible, Victoria—"

"Why are you being so difficult with me, Michael?! It's like I'm talking to a fucking brick wall!" You scoff. "You're not exactly proving that to me right now, are you?"

"Have some dignity, won't you?" Michael narrows his eyes at you. 

"For what?" You leer, "for wanting to spend time with my husband?"

"I'm not going to argue with you, Victoria, nor am I going to fight with you on this. Not here, not now, not ever! Do you understand me?" Michael tosses his pen down onto his paperwork carelessly, rising from his seat. "I've repeated myself to you a thousand times, and I've had enough."

"Oh! Look at that!" You gasp dramatically, gesturing to him. "You've suddenly decided you're not busy now, isn't that right, Don Corleone? Because if you were as swamped with business as you claim to be, you wouldn't be able to raise your head or put down your pen for one minute."

"Victoria—"

"And before I suffocate in here—" You snatch the cigarette out of Michael's mouth, stamping it out on the ashtray. "I want you to come out and spend time with the family."

"What the hell are you trying to do?" Michael glares at you, pulling the ashtray aside. 

You ignore his question outright, "if not for me, then see your children at the very least."

"You sound like I never spend time with our children. What are you implying? Do you have something you need to tell me and get off your chest?" Frustration crosses Michael's expression. "Because it sure seems to me like you only came in here to argue with me."

You force a weak smile. "It's not like you're going to come back and forth to your office again throughout the evening or stay in here until the crack of dawn, right? Better yet, let me get all of your pillows and blankets, and you can fucking stay—"

"Watch your language—"

You continue, purposefully cursing. "In here all by your fucking self. If you want, you can even sleep next to your fucking paperwork while the children and I will just make appointments when we want to see you. How's that?!"

"You're phenomenal, darling," Michael says back sarcastically, staring at you with disappointment. "That's the way you choose to speak to me over this? I wonder if it's the same with the cursing and yelling in your court sessions, hence why nobody bothers to argue with the one and only Victoria Corleone."

"Wow." You stare back at Michael in disbelief, feeling your eyes sting with tears. "Who was it that needed to get something off their chest again? Me or you?"

"Could you please leave now?" Michael asks you impatiently, gesturing to his desk. "If this conversation is done, I'd like to return to my work."

"Yeah, don't worry, I'll go." You brush him off, turning on your heel as you force back your tears. "My apologiesfor wasting your time, Don Corleone."

"And since it's so important to you, spend time with the children and the guests instead of running off to New York this time," Michael adds, picking up his pen again.

You clutch onto the doorway and immediately turn to look back at Michael after hearing his hurtful comment as tears begin to pool in your eyes.

Michael doesn't notice you staring at him, only aware of your presence still in his office. He flips to the next page in his current document folder and continues adding notes and a signature before you make your way out of his office.

'Forget it.' Unable to hold your tears back for long, you storm off down the hallway and refuse to look back or even at Al Neri, who frowns at the sight of your angered disposition.

'Forget I even fucking bothered.' Anger washes over your bitterness and how upset you realize you've gotten over Michael's recently growing absence.

'And if the guests ask where their gracious host is, I'll say that the lovely, elusive Michael Corleone is BUSY. Fucking busy!' You blink away your tears and push open the front door, walking back into the courtyard.

"And since it's so important to you…"

Michael's comment stings every time it replays in your head. There hasn't been one time where he's used the fact you left for New York to separate from Michael during your first and only lengthy, nasty fight—until now.

Michael made it more than obvious that not only does the whole affair bother him when it comes to the both of you fighting, but at the same time, he doesn't take your absence or separation after an argument seriously anymore either.

You could make a dramatic exit and head off to New York or anywhere else you'd like, and it would no longer have the impact it did on him beforehand. 

Tried once and done, Michael remains more so bitter about being apart from the children for a week who had no idea what was going on—let alone what happened with Sonny. 

Michael knows it doesn't solve anything, and it just makes matters worse. 

Michael will never forget that either, although his bitter attitude towards it doesn't show as Sonny knows better than to ever try such a thing with you again if he values every bone in his body. 

Although Michael respected your decision to have some space, it still hurt him regardless of whether he expressed it or not. He had much to ponder for himself, but Michael never anticipated you actually physically leaving. 

That part has never resolved any of your fights—as few as you've ever had them throughout the last eight years—and that's become apparent to the both of you. 

Still, both of you have learned from the experience, especially in the sense that while you both may prefer to cool off and take your mind off of the matter, at the end of the day, you and Michael having a heart-to-heart conversation with one another in private has always mended things the way you've both wanted it.

As soon as you're out of his view, Al Neri gives a little knock on Michael's office door with his knuckles to enter.

"Come in," Michael calls out, lighting another cigarette he holds in the corner of his lips.

Neri only takes one step into Michael's office, still holding onto the doorknob. "Sir, Mrs. Corleone has just returned back to the party outside."

Michael lets out a soft exhale, taking a drag from his cigarette and paying more attention to the design over his lighter's case than anything else. "Get her a bodyguard, please. It's crowded out there, and I want to ensure her safety and comfort."

"Yes, Don Corleone." Neri gives a nod, quietly closing the office door behind him.

Stepping back out to the courtyard amidst the grand celebration and party again, the first thing you come to notice is the obvious world of a difference there is between how frustrated you've felt versus the hearty banter and party splendor your guests and family are a part of.

Brushing your stray tears off of your face, you take a deep breath and feel more annoyed by the whole ordeal with Michael's absence inside more than anything else now.

Your colleagues from Dartmouth, associates and legal team from court, friends from New York and Nevada alike, as well as other friendly faces you and your family have been seeing for years surround you 

having nothing but a good time.

'I know all these people. Michael knows all these people.' Fine wine and gourmet dining being served, no disruptions or inappropriate behavior, party service in full swing, and memories that'll be talked about for years to come are all happening before your very eyes.

Pushing away any negative feelings you know aren't worth dwelling on; you know your guests and family are what's most important right now. After all, the situation with Michael's absence does need to be talked about, and it will because after all is said and done with the party, it'll be unavoidable.

The night is still young, and you've never been one to abandon a party or any type of social gathering early. Deciding to head back to your family table, you smile to look over to your side and see the band no longer playing a soft melody but an upbeat tune the guests are loving.

'Everyone's having such a good time…' You don't even need to take a seat at the table to be noticed, already giving waves and mouthing "hellos" to guests who are happy to see you walk past them again.

"Welcome back, darling." Connie raises her champagne glass up to you as you approach the table. "Much needed bathroom break?"

"Much needed." You nod, preferring to leave the subject matter there as you take your seat next to her. "Ah—" You take a quick glance around you to the other family tables surrounding yours. "Have you seen Sandra?"

"Yeah." Connie chuckles, "she's puking up everything she had to drink. I told her wine and champagne wouldn't mix well."

"Do I even have to ask where Deanna has gone either?" You sigh at first but burst into a fit of giggles with Connie.

"Not a coincidence, so it's best we don't ask." Connie can barely contain her laughter as she tries to sip her champagne. "I think they'll both be back in a bit, considering neither of them would miss the dance for the world, especially Deanna."

You force back your surprise, having already forgotten there was going to be a slow dance, let alone a dance to begin with. Anxiousness winds in your gut as you realize you're either going to have to pretend you're seriously occupied with something or disappear outright when the dance begins. 

Having your guests and family see you sitting out, highlighting Michael's absence, and not being able to dance with him at your own party would be outright humiliating, to say the least.

"I look forward to Sandra's dancing skills then." Masking your own disappointment, you reach your hand up and take a flute of champagne off of a nearby waiter's tray.

"There's no way she won't be tripping over her own feet at this state." Connie savors the taste of champagne over her lips. "Bad news for Sonny."

"Since when does Sonny dance?" You grin at her.

"Oh, please don't remind me." Connie shakes her head, laughing. "I rather they all just miss it—" Her tone falters to distraction as a beaming smile forms over Connie's face. 

She sets her champagne flute down immediately and waves across the courtyard to your brother Leonardo who waves back at her, gesturing to a few of his colleagues and then back at her to let Connie know he'll be joining her for the dance shortly.

'Lucky, lucky…' The smile on your face fades as you quickly take a large sip of your champagne, reveling it in and your growing jealousy. 

You're about to be the only one left at the family table at this rate, taking care of a drunk Sandra and outspoken Santino when you know you should be clutching onto Michael's shoulders in both dance and in bed. 

'Michael…' You let out a deep, drawn-out sigh as you rub your eyes, squeezing them shut. 

No matter what you do or where you look, you're constantly reminded of Michael's absence from his own party, and now all you have is time to think about when everyone will unmistakeably notice it too.

"You know, the longer you avoid the dance, the more people will notice." You hear Sonny say to you from behind.

"I'm not—" you turn your head back to see Sonny now approaching the table, looking a little "flustered" or, as you'd truthfully say—"freshly fucked”.

"How ironic." Connie rolls her eyes, "and where have you been?"

Sonny smoothens out his tie and suit jacket, exchanging a quick glance with you. The unmistakable "Sandra-lets-me-do-this" look in his eyes peeks back at you this time, but your mind is much too occupied with how to get the burned image of your brother-in-law pounding the nanny in the bathroom out of your head. 

 Sonny clears his throat before he stands by you and Connie. "Bathroom break. All those champagne cocktails had to go somewhere."

"And speaking of the dance," Connie eyes the two of you. "It seems like both of you are avoiding it. Where's Michael and Sandra?"

"Drunk." Sonny answers.

"Busy." You answer back at the same time as Sonny.

Connie raises her brows at the two of you, unimpressed but also surprised to hear the answers. "Oh, okay."

"I thought you were avoiding it." Sonny glances down at you. "Considering you went back inside."

"Victoria avoiding a dance? Never." Connie chuckles in amusement.

"I went to see if Michael was finished with his business, actually," you try your best to hold back a bitter tone as you rub your temples gingerly. 

"Yeah, you're gonna be waitin' forever, sweetheart." Sonny chuckles, shifting his weight to the other foot.

"And what were you doing inside?" You shoot Sonny a disapproving look.

Although you know it's technically none of your business who Sonny's fucking, you wouldn't have quite imagined he and Esther had anything going on with one another. Then again, you could have quite literally been in Esther's position back in New York with Sonny's attempts of seduction. If it's anyone's problem now, though, it'll be Sandra's. 

"Usin' the bathroom, as I said," Sonny smirks down at you.

'Using the bathroom or using Esther?' "Oh yeah?" You let out a soft sigh, relaxing in your chair.

"Oh yeah. You look exhausted, Vic." Sonny's eyes flicker over you.

"I feel worse than I look," you mumble, crossing your arms. "This isn't how I expected one of our biggest celebrations of the year to go out. One gracious host isn't around to experience their own party, and the other one is well…" You gesture to yourself in annoyance, "sitting here moping about it."

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, honey, but if Michael's still not coming out, then he isn't going to make any exceptions for a dance." Connie shakes her head, glancing down at her champagne flute.

"And a dance like this?" Sonny points out to the courtyard, seeing couples joining each other for a faster-paced, upbeat dance. "With Mike?" Sonny lets out a laugh, "right, right."

Sonny looks back over at you and notices you stare back at him, completely unamused with your arms crossed. "Do I look as horrible as I feel?"

"Honey, you look fine." Connie sighs softly. "Forget about Michael. If he wants his friends and colleagues to talk about how he barely showed his face around this year, that's his problem, not yours."

"And," Sonny takes a step towards you, extending out his hand. "All eyes are gonna be on Victoria Corleone regardless of what she's doin' or not. You see all these people out there?" Using his free hand, Sonny gestures out toward the dancing couples and occupied tables. 

"It'll be the talk of the season, is all I can say." Connie swishes the remainder of her champagne cocktail around in her glass.

"Exactly. So?" Sonny coaxes his hand towards you. "Care to join me for a dance, then? If Mike's not gonna come out, what's the point just moping about here, eh? This is just for fun."

You can't help the smile growing over your face as Sonny and Connie chuckle and grin at your reaction. "Alright, just for fun." You decide, placing your hand in Sonny's.

The bodyguard Al Neri assigned to you watches cautiously from a distance, pretending to sip at a champagne cocktail next to the other security guards behind your table. 

"Just for fun," Sonny repeats with a playful grin, pulling you up from your seat. "I got my old man and mama dancin' but not my sister-in-law? C'mon." You feel Sonny rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand before leading you out to the courtyard—knowing curious eyes are beginning to fall over the two of you.

"Hope my dancing skills don't make you too jealous," Sonny jokes, lacing both hands with yours. 

"Been practicing?" You hold onto Sonny's hands loosely.

"Somethin' like that." Sonny chuckles before looking over his shoulder back at the band, still playing an upbeat, lively tune. "You ready? Don't fall too behind."

"We're not waltzing, so how bad can it be?" A playful smile spreads over your lips as the two of you begin dancing.

"I've never seen you swing dancing, darling." The two of you begin to rock side to side on both feet. "Have your guests?"

"Depends who you ask." You say with pride as you take a few steps back from Sonny, his arm extending to hold your hand. "My colleagues from Dartmouth definitely know."

"Is that right?" Sonny lets out a laugh, pulling you back in and placing his hand around your back in dance. "Mike's missin' out, I see."

"And?" you begin, holding both of Sonny's hands as he twirls you around.

"And?" Sonny's eyes gaze over your dress, flowing over you as your hips move in rhythm with the music.

"Everyone else is watching too." You tell him with a smile, moving back and forth to the beat. 

"There she goes!" Connie calls out, cheering you two on. "Wow, Vic!"

With the band coming to notice your fast-paced dance at the center of the courtyard, they happily pick up their tune to a full swing style song. Other couples and guests around the two of you begin to join in with one another, too, enjoying the lively, energetic air around you and Sonny.

"Let them. I love it." Sonny remains astonished by how quickly you can keep up with him. "Damn, you're amazing." Sonny takes a few steps back in dance before pulling you in closer to him as you repeat the same movement.

"The Don asked me to keep an eye on that one." Your assigned bodyguard murmurs to the other next to him, inconspicuously gesturing to Sonny. 

"His own brother." The other comments, watching you both dance. "The Don's reasoning is always concise."

"With one-sided chemistry like that, I don't blame him." The bodyguard adjusts the collar of his dress shirt. "But Don Corleone will be out any minute now."

"Let Mrs. Corleone know then?" The other raises a brow. "Or at least have the band end the music prematurely?"

"We're not in any position to interrupt or deem authority over Mrs. Corleone." The bodyguard replies. "Her safety is of utmost concern, observations second. We'll let the Don know accordingly when he asks."

"Thank you." You gaze up at him. "It's just a dance, right?" Moving from side to side, Sonny twirls you to the right side of his body before doing so on the left.

"Hell of a dance, hell of a dancer," Sonny comments as you pull away from him to the right, swerving your hips. "What else would it be?"

"You tell me." You give Sonny the same disapproving look you did back in New York, spinning around. 

"Uh-huh." Sonny lets go of your hands for you to twirl against his body before he embraces your back from your side. "My offer's always up, you know. Is that what came to mind when you saw Esther and me?"

"The only thing that came to mind is how there's no such thing—" You let Sonny dip you down as you swing your feet up. "As you and I, right?"

Sonny takes a moment to answer, almost disappointed, as he lifts you back up. "Right."

"Good." You hold one hand with Sonny's and clutch onto his shoulder with the other, continuing to dance. "You're my brother-in-law, and I love you like one, but that's all."

"You hurt me." Sonny chuckles, hiding his disappointment as you pull away from him to swerve your hips again. "But I get it, believe me. No trouble from me; I respect you and Mike."

"As I to you and Sandra, of course, but that's not what your eyes say." You two join hands again in another twirl. 

If there's anything you've always been, it's certainly observational, and it's not like Sonny's made his gazing and staring unnoticeable, to begin with. You've always picked up on it, and while harmless, you know now you don't want the one-sided chemistry to get to his head again for his own sake.

"Who said I was trying to hide it, pretty lady?" Sonny chuckles, pulling you back into his embrace as you both dance from side to side. "I'm definitely not the only one lookin'."

Back at the central family residence, Michael tightens his tie over his collar before adjusting his silk suit jacket and stepping out the front entrance for the evening.

You slide over your heel smoothly, spinning around Sonny. "You know Michael charges much less for a funeral."

Al Neri remains behind him with another bodyguard to Michael's side, accompanying the Don back out to the courtyard.

"Believe me, my jaw and nose are aware of that." Sonny grins, dancing in unison with you perfectly. 

Your bodyguard and other security men notice immediately, as do some of the less chattier guests. One of the first few people to spot Michael beside his own men are Connie, Theresa, Tom, and Mama Corleone, who've all been enjoying tonight's entertainment, but none stand or call for Michael just yet.

"That's why we're just dancing, right?" You both waltz around each other in a fast-paced manner. "Just for fun."

From the very moment you can be spotted in Michael's line of vision, his eyes find you first, and they find you immediately. 

"Just for fun, honey." Sonny winks, blocking your way with his leg before picking you up by your hips with one hand, the other scooping up your thighs as he dips you down low. "Just for fun!"

"Oh!" You throw your head back in laughter, squealing as your hair remains almost an inch from touching the ground. "And you say I'm a dancer!"

Guests watching from their tables and even those who are mid-dance stop to applaud and cheer at you and Sonny swing dancing with one another.

'Michael's out?' Out of the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of Michael standing by his bodyguards as he lights a cigarette—directly watching you and Sonny enjoying yourselves in the dance.

In all truthfulness, you rarely have a chance to dance at your own parties and celebrations due to Michael's strict refusal of anything besides a formal and proper slow dance. While you can understand that knowing your husband is like the back of your hand, your intentions are harmful and just to have a little fun—nothing more.

It's why you don't act caught or distraught, throwing Sonny off or trying to get away from Michael. Your intentions are clear, and your feelings towards Sonny are non-existent, other than the fact you love him as your brother-in-law and nothing more.

'The only thing missing from a would-be scandal are reporters.' From Michael's perspective, now growing somewhat irritated as he eyes the two of you, he thinks Sonny's putting on a show with you for all he cares and knows, and it doesn't sit well with Michael, to begin with.

Your hips come into contact with Sonny's as he spins you around again before you hop down and hold a hand with him. At this point, you've become aware of Michael's presence out in the courtyard and not too far a distance from you, but with the fast pace of the dance, you're unable to keep your eye on him.

Of course, it would not only mean the world to you but also be overwhelming joyful and fun if you and Michael shared a swing dance together, perhaps even on more intimate terms, if Sonny's lying at all about his intentions and feelings towards you again now, there's nothing you can do about it, but you will refuse to cater to it if it shows its obvious prominence. 

Michael gives a forced, polite smile and acknowledging nods here and there to guests surrounding the family table before he takes his seat directly facing the courtyard. From the moment his eyes divert from the guests, it stays rigidly over you and Sonny dancing before him. 

What others would describe simply as Don Corleone's gaze, you're one of the very few besides Vito and Carmela who can tell the look in Michael's eyes simply isn't dead of emotion but filled with impatience towards you and disgust towards Sonny.

Whether Michael has decided to sit directly facing the two of you for you to either notice or for the dance to stop is unclear to you, and Sonny has barely noticed his own brother's arrival as he remains fully indulged and focused on the energetic dance.

The band continues to play a boastful, lively tune not just for your swing dance but for the guests and couples participating in it scattered around the courtyard.

Connie tucks in her chair closer to the dining table, resting her elbows over it and placing one hand on top of the other in a completely relaxed state. Her diamonds and glistening jewelry glimmer under the illumination of the evening's décor and lighting, and it's only when Michael's eyes flicker to her with a look of disapproval, knowing that Connie's obviously enabling this, that Connie smirks back at her brother. 

Unphased by Michael's reaction to begin with and never having shied away from being petty or purposefully getting on her brother's nerves in the past, Connie is also aware of the fiasco that occurred between you and Sonny in New York. 

After discovering the nature of Lucy Mancini's affair with Sonny at her own wedding to Carlo, Connie gave up blaming and redirecting her anger to Sonny's mistresses and brushed off her brother's adultery and promiscuity completely. 

If Sandra couldn't control it or if she simply let Sonny go on to relieve himself with the sex hazard in his pants, then it would be Sandra's problem alone—even if it happened at Connie's wedding.

Connie knows Sonny's always found you to be attractive. He may have confessed to her on more than one occasion and sober too. As a matter of fact, Connie was always under the impression Sonny would make a move on you if he could—but she didn't think something would ever occur unless he had done so before your engagement with Michael, let alone married to him. 

In truth, Sonny made a move or at least attempted to when seeing he had a chance or that his behavior and attraction seemed reciprocated when he found a woman absolutely irresistible.

This notion never just implied appearance alone, but everything to do with a woman's personality from her mannerisms, her engagement in conversation, and mutual chemistry. 

Sonny had been attracted to you the moment he saw you—something he shared in common with past flings and one-night stands, but you were the only woman he mistakened had hidden feelings or sexual desire towards him.

Part of the reason why is because Sonny thought you had awaited him to make a move when Michael wasn't and couldn't be present, and secondly that your relationship with him was always warm and close with a possibility it could lead to more.

Then again, any relationship could always lead to something more if two people put in the effort and desire together. One-sided was all that could be described the ordeal in New York, and it's something you don't want to think or talk about out of disgust and embarrassment.

You never knew Sonny felt for you the way that he did, and to this day, you still don't know, nor do you want to know if he attempted to seduce you out of pure sexual attraction, genuine feelings, or because that's how he consoled people.

You could be throbbing and soaking into your panties for days on end, alone with no sight of Michael or any notion of when you'd see or hear from him again; you could have all the opportunity in the world just to sneak away and have sex with someone else—not necessarily Sonny while being able to justify it to yourself and you still would never do it. 

It's not in you. It has never been, and it never will. The possibility of entertaining Sonny's seduction would only ever exist if Sonny was single, and so were you, and not for any reason to be together or have sex in the first place.

Going from a sexy, stern, and dominant man like Michael to his brother—rugged, passionate, and outspoken is not a possibility or idea you want to entertain.

There isn't a single bone in your body that craves another man in any form, way, or shape. You'd sooner vomit in your mouth just thinking about it. Michael Corleone is the only man for you, and you accept nothing more, nothing less. 

Your feelings have tripled and gotten deeper, more affectionate, more sexual, trusting, and loving over the last nine years of marriage to Michael, and they only intensify further, just like the way Michael feels for you. 

It may have been a risk to entertain a relationship the way that you did, but Michael never forced you, nor did you both feel uncomfortable or incompatible. It was one of the best decisions you ever made in your life, one you never doubted, questioned, or regretted. 

You went to bed that night in New York crying yourself to sleep, clutching a photograph of Michael in his uniform—fell asleep to thoughts of your husband even when you had all the reason in the world to ask for space and be upset with him.

Your heart has and always will belong to Michael Corleone. That'll never change. Not in New York when the perfect opportunity presented itself to be anything but faithful to Michael and not over a harmful, playful swing dance with your brother-in-law.

A nearby waiter serves Michael a champagne cocktail in front of him before moving aside to serve other guests. Michael pulls the cocktail closer to him, and by doing so, he takes his eyes off of you and Sonny for the first time in minutes.

'Pretending not to care, or does he actually not care?' Connie's aware from her brother's body language that he's expecting the dance to end and to see the two of you coming back to the table shortly after, but nothing more. 

She can't tell how Michael feels at all about the dance nor how he's truly reacting to it from how well Michael always remains poised to be emotionless and intensely stern. 

Michael only raises his eyes to look upon you once more as he raises his champagne cocktail up to his lips.

Rushing back into another fast-paced waltz around the courtyard, you both step away from each other again with one last twirl—arms extended as the dance is just about to come to an end as onlookers giddily clap and cheer on throughout the music.

Michael only takes one sip of his champagne cocktail when he sees Sonny pulling you in by your arm back to his embrace and dipping you down low one final time as he leans in close to you. 

Knowing the dance is to end with a kiss over the lips, there's no indication that Sonny will or won't kiss you right then and now to Michael. 

In a split second, as Michael watches Sonny dip your body down gracefully and lean over you, he no longer realizes how harshly he's clutching onto his cocktail.

While Michael's body language and face read no emotion whatsoever or give off any indication as to what he's thinking, Michael feels shortness of breath hit him, accompanied by the feeling of possessiveness and jealousy flooding through his body hotly.

Al Neri, Michael's bodyguards in close vicinity, as well as Tom at the other table with his wife and children, are the first to instantly notice the cocktail glass shatter in Michael's hand.

Without even being aware of it, the glass breaks in Michael's grasp, and champagne spills onto the table—getting some on his hand and soaking the remainder through the tablecloth. 

Connie's eyes widen in shock, but even she remains still and quietly stares back at Michael in astonishment as tiny pieces of glass scatter over the tablecloth. 

The sound is at too much of a distance for you or Sonny to properly hear and discern it. Sonny pulls away and extends out his free arm gleefully as the upbeat tempo of the swing dance finally comes to an end without a kiss.

Al Neri shoots a glare at the waiter that immediately causes the waiter to quickly clean up the mess over the tablecloth and scoop away the glass as if nothing ever happened.

"Is this another one of your hidden talents that pop up every now and then?" Sonny chuckles, letting go of your hand.

"Something like that." You joke back, "you're quick on your feet, dancer boy." 

"Let's just say I learn quickly, eh?" Sonny grins proudly, smoothening out his suit jacket.

Amusement fills Connie's expression at Michael's reaction as she watches the waiter begin to clean off the mess as quickly and as best as he can. Now Connie knows if anything, Michael is certain to be jealous. 

Michael simply lets the shards of glass fall out of his hand, completely unharmed and without care, as he continues to gaze back at you and Sonny. 

Had this been a slow dance, things may have been very, very different indeed, but then again, so would intentions. 

"Mama! Mama!" Verona and Niccolò squeal, giddily rushing up to you from their tables in excitement. "Wow!"

Sonny smiles at his approaching niece and nephew before running a hand through his curls and turning back to face the family table. Sonny's eyes spot Michael wiping off his hand with a napkin and staring at him expectantly; nothing gets through to Sonny to spoil his playful mood for tonight.

"Hi, you two!" You let out a soft laugh, hugging both of them. "What did you guys think of my dancing skills?"

Connie clears her throat and rises from her seat with her champagne the moment she sees Sonny approaching. Unbothered and rather amused by all of this herself, Connie knows better than to keep herself between Michael's irritation. 

"You were so fast, mama!" Niccolò exclaims. "How?!"

"Can you teach me?" Verona giggles. "I wanna dance too!"

Heading off towards Tom and Theresa's table, Connie's out of sight from the moment Sonny stretches out his arms and plops back down on his seat next to Michael. "Well, look who it is. Nice of ya to come out for once, Mike." 

Sonny's eyes flicker to the mess over the tablecloth still being cleaned by the waiter, who Michael outright ignores as he stares back at his brother with a severe look of annoyance and disappointment over his eyes.

It only takes a second to register to Sonny that Michael's broken his champagne glass, and not in a sense it tipped over or fell to the ground. For what seems like the first time in forever, Michael makes it visibly clear to Sonny—the only person now at the table—in the calmest and eerie manner that he's upset and irritated with him.

Only when the waiter next to Michael finishes cleaning up the last shards of broken glass and serves a new cocktail before leaving does Michael speak out to his brother. "I wouldn't have expected to walk back out into my own party to see my brother dancing with my wife." 

"Aw, Mike." Sonny chuckles softly, glancing back to you momentarily to see you playfully dancing with the twins.

"Like this! Just like this!" You twirl Verona around as she bursts into a fit of giggles.

"We were just dancin'." Sonny shrugs back to Michael. "A swing dance here and there—ya know, nothin' harmless."

"It's unacceptable, Sonny," Michael speaks in a quiet, calm voice. "Because when has it ever 'just' been that simple to you with Victoria?"

"Mike—"

"Have some shame." Michael's eyes burn back into Sonny's. "You're a married man with four children, and this is the type of behavior you choose to showcase."

"Oh?" Sonny raises a brow in genuine disbelief that Michael's scolding him over this. "My kid brother's gonna lecture me about dancin'? I was doin' it right in front of you—you saw me. Are you gonna give this same talk to Victoria over a dance? Come on, Mike. That's not like you."

"Victoria isn't the one who tried to provoke a sexual affair." Michael points out, keeping his voice stern. "That's my wife, and if you can't control your attraction to her, then you will control yourself in public. When you don't, not only do you lack dignity and respect towards yourself and to her, but you disrespect me, and that makes me very angry."

Sonny stares back at Michael, considering his words. "Then dance with her—"

"Don't tell me what to do, Santino." Michael slowly pushes the cocktail away from him. "What I choose to do and not to do are not invitations for you to act in my place. Do something like this again, and I'll hurt you very badly."

Before Sonny can even react, Michael rises from his seat and makes his way directly towards you. His demeanor is neither bitter nor serious, but rather even after shattering glass in his bare hands like Michael's been searching for you since he stepped outside of his office.

Noticing Michael out of the corner of your eye, you raise your head and blush at the sight of him instantly. In what you would expect to be a conversation made next, you blink in surprise as both you and Michael turn your heads to hear more of your guests clapping and cheering for you two.

Just then, you see Mama Corleone step down from the gazebo the band is performing in, gesturing and whispering something to them in an excited manner before waving at you and Michael. "Dai! Dai!" (Come on! Come on!)

A soothing, slow melody fit for a formal dance begins to play, and the atmosphere of not only your guests but the twins, Tom, Sandra, and even an absolutely wasted Deanna cheer and coax you and Michael to join in the dance.

"Mr. and Mrs. Corleone!" Connie calls out, clapping her hands together.

"Don Corleone." You can't help the growing, amused smile on your face as you take a step toward Michael.

"Mrs. Corleone," Michael greets you back, lacing a hand up with yours and placing the other over your hip.

"Looks like you made it in time for the dance after all." Your cheeks burn with blush as you avoid his gaze.

"I told you I would, wouldn't I?" Michael joins you in dance as you wrap your free arm around his shoulders lovingly. "Though I may have been more inclined to come out sooner had I known my own wife of nine years as a dancer."

You giggle, shaking your head. "If only I was that talented. How would you ever find out if you don't dance yourself?"

"I don't entertain such ridiculous notions." It's just the answer you'd expect from Michael. "But I won't refuse a dance like this with my wife."

"You missed me." You point out teasingly. "Not much to look at in the office, is there?"

"If I'm not looking, it appears someone else is," Michael murmurs, immediately killing the mood.

"Oh, please." You let out a soft sigh. "Some ambiance and liveliness here are what we needed."

"You needed or what Santino needed?" Michael asks you rather coldly.

"Michael," you frown at him. "You're the last person I'd ever expect to hold a grudge like that."

"I'm not holding a grudge, Victoria," Michael tells you plainly, planting a kiss over your cheek. "I'm simply observing, and I'm telling you what I see, which is very different from what you choose to ignore."

"I feel like you and I both have better things to talk about tonight than a swing dance." Your playful disposition easily wears off.

"And where should we start? With how close you've grown to Santino or—"

"I have not." You say through gritted teeth. "Don't try to change the subject, Michael. You're the one who was absent for almost the entirety of your own party. Are we going to talk about that?"

"No," Michael replies plainly. "We already did. There's nothing more to say."

"Everyone's watching us; are you aware of that?" You whisper back to him, avoiding looking around you.

"Yes. Is there a problem?" Michael presses the side of his cheek gently up against yours in a much more intimate embrace throughout the dance.

"You're making the dance sufferable, is all." You mumble under your breath. 

"Believe me, I have plenty I want to talk to you about after all of this is over." Michael reminds you, "and yes, we can start with Santino. I'm not happy about this at all, Victoria. Stop rolling your eyes at me."

"I'll walk off." You threaten. "It's not like the whole dance relies on me being a part of it."

"And do you expect me to follow you?" Michael raises a brow at you. "Because I won't. Then you'll have to lecture yourself all night for 'ruining' your own party in front of all your guests and colleagues." Michael's barely phased by your threat. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Wow, really? What are you doing, Michael?" You scoff quietly. "I mean, honestly? First the absence, now the pettiness?"

"You or me?" Michael kisses your cheek sweetly again. "I haven't done anything."

Becoming increasingly difficult to balance how you feel blushing due to Michael's affection, arousal, and anger from your last conversation with Michael. You're barely able to focus on what you're trying to say. 

"I know what you're doing." Michael continues, squeezing your hand gently. "With Sonny? You did that on purpose."

"Very funny." You reply, knowing he's mentioning the dance you shared with Sonny. "One of us had to enjoy the party and entertain the guests, and that happened to be me. You're overthinking it."

"Yes, you've done enough entertaining for the night, sweetheart." Michael narrows his eyes. "It always has to be your way, doesn't it?"

You pull your head back away from him, smirking as you know you're more than capable of getting on Michael's nerves as much as he is to you right now. "Why not? I'm a Ferrari daughter. I always get what I want."

"You need to watch your attitude." Michael stares back at you. "This isn't over."

"Aw." You pout dramatically at Michael, "but the dance is, baby." You peck a kiss over his lips before pulling away from Michael just as the music comes to an end—growing more upbeat for the next dance. 

"Victoria." Michael's eyes burn back into yours, a universal sign for "come here" you'd love to obey if you weren't amusing yourself by teasing Michael like this. 

"There's nothing to talk about, Michael." You beam back at him, using his own words against him. "We're at a party, I'm the host, and I'm very, very busy right now. I've got work to do, guests to see. Very busy!"

Fixing up a smile and running a hand through your hair, you head off down the courtyard towards the tables reserved for your sorority sisters from Dartmouth. "Ladies, ladies! Hi!"

Michael makes it more than clear through his disposition that he's not amused. Although he doesn't see his absence as a problem or anything to remotely make a big deal out of, he does accept it's what has upset not only you but the twins as well tonight.

Had Vincent and James been a little older to understand, there'd be no doubt that they'd be asking the same questions about Michael's whereabouts. 

With two more small children in your family, it's imperative now more than ever to have Michael spend as much time as he can with the babies as they grow.

Without a further glance in your direction, Michael approaches the family table once again for the sole purpose of picking up his lighter and cigarette pack off the table.

"Why don't you sit down?" Michael hears Connie's voice as he raises his head up to see his sister approaching the table again. "You haven't been here all night."

"I'm here now." Michael ignores her request, taking a cigarette out of his pack. "I'll be seeing my own friends and colleagues now."

"You have friends?" Connie scoffs, staring at her brother in disbelief.

"You sound surprised," Michael comments nonchalantly, putting a cigarette in the corner of his mouth. "Not that I understand what for." With that, Michael holds onto his lighter and slips his cigarette pack back into the outer pocket of his suit jacket.

Connie stares back at Michael, expecting him to say something more or to head off to Tom's table, but he turns away from her almost immediately after and walks over to one of the VIP tables reserved for special colleagues and friends.

"Sandra!" You call out, spotting her from a short distance near some guests. "Come on over here! Come!"

Sandra's eyes brighten when she spots you and the girls at the table, picking up her pace and approaching the table. "There you are! Can you believe Theresa has already called it a night?" She lets out a soft sigh, "I thought I was going to get lost in that crowd all by myself."

"The night is still young!" One of your friends bubbles at Sandra.

"Very true." You beam back, "I know she's more than tired from insisting on running most of the preparations for tonight, buuuut—" You pluck a champagne flute off a nearby waiter's tray, handing it to her. "It'll be just us girls now."

"Oh, thank God." Sandra lets out a sigh of relief, taking a big gulp of the champagne, which causes you and the girls to laugh. "Mm, I needed that. I'm not as tipsy as I look."

"How drunk you are may have been exaggerated by Sonny and the others." You chuckle. "You look fine."

"Not enough to get me drunk, but I wish." Sandra swishes the champagne around in her glass. "You know I feel like I've acquired a taste for these things thanks to Michael constantly having a limitless supply of champagne cocktails at every damn party?"

You and Sandra both burst out in laughter, separating your conversation from your other friends. "Well, after that little happy accident we had with a bottle of whiskey and many cocktails later…" You playfully roll your eyes, "this is our punishment."

"Has it helped you dance?" Sandra grins, gesturing at your cocktail. "I never even knew you had moves like that, Vic."

"No, no, I'm no dancer." You brush off the notion, "but I've been to enough parties to know that if I don't learn how to swing dance, I'm not gonna have any fun."

"I love it." Excitement flashes in Sandra's eyes. "I think you inspired all of us to pick up a few dancefloor moves back there. It looked so energetic and fun."

"It is!" You tell her but feel your smile beginning to fade from the obvious. "You were okay with all of that, though, right? You know—dancing with Sonny."

"Why would I be?" Sandra blinks, a little confused by the question. "I don't even know where my own husband picked up those moves from, but he's impressed me a lot too. He's gonna have to show me!"

'Oh, thank God.' You brush off your anxiety. "There's still plenty of time for a dance; why don't you join him in one?"

"Eh," Sandra shrugs shyly. "I mean, I would, but I've surprised myself today enough just by being able to walk."

"What do you mean?" You take a slow sip of your champagne.

"Um…" Sandra covers her mouth, blushing. "I mean with that health hazard in Sonny's pants."

"Oh." Your eyes widen as you both burst into a fit of giggles. "You're serious?"

"Oh yeah." Sandra bites down on her lip. "I literally feel ruined down there. Ugh," she glances down at the hem of her dress, clenching her legs. "Last night was amazing, and lately, I'm just reveling in the foreplay we have—you know, to build up arousal because—" she lowers her tone to be only audible to you, "—he's so fucking big, it'll hurt otherwise."

"Oh my God, Sandra." Not that you're all too surprised yourself from what you thought was a crowbar poking against your thigh when Sonny made that move on you back in New York. 

"Lots and lots of lube too." She lets out a breathy sigh. "Oh well, we've been more intimate with each other lately but trying to avoid having another little one after four kids. You?"

"Definitely." You can't help the smile growing over your lips, hoping Sandra will change the conversation any moment now.

"All the better, I say." Sandra shrugs her shoulders. "His dick is a party favor in itself." She rolls her eyes. "Seductive and seducing every other woman and whatnot."

'Awkward…' You neither expected Sandra to talk to you about Sonny's dick or about her sex life in the middle of a party tonight.

Sandra's eyes lock over yours as her smile fades, and that familiar tinge of anxiety hits you once again. She remains quiet for a moment before frowning, "I'm sorry, Victoria. I really am."

"What do you mean?" Your eyes widen in surprise. 

"It wasn't right of me to be upset with you about…" She gestures her hand back to Sonny, who jokingly shakes Tom's shoulders back at his table. "All of that." Sandra's clearly referring to the little incident in New York. "That wasn't your fault. It's not like you went along with it or even started it to begin with."

"It's okay, Sandra." You place your free hand on her shoulder, giving it a reassuring rub. "Really. I understand. It's all water under the bridge now."

"Still, it wasn't okay how upset I was with you at your own mother's funeral." You notice the distraught look in Sandra's eyes. "I was petty and giving you the cold shoulder when you needed love and support the most. It's my fault, Vic. I can't keep Sonny on a leash, but then again, nobody can—I shouldn't blame the women he chooses to go after, but I did, and it was very stupid and childish of me to do so. I've been meaning to apologize to you, so I'm sorry it took a while to get to that too, through…this conversation." She gives out a weak laugh. 

"No, no. I understand." You smile warmly at her. "I really appreciate that, thank you. I let bygones be bygones, really. I was just as confused and upset as you by the whole thing. Uh—are you and Sonny okay between one another, though? I mean, I know it's been some time, but…" Your mind roams back to Michael's words.

"With Sonny? You did that on purpose."

"Those kinds of things tend to linger a while longer than we think even after everything is said and done." You finish your sentence. 

"Oh, we're both fine, don't worry, honey." The smile on Sandra's face grows wider as she embraces you in a warm hug. "Sonny and I definitely talked about it, and I know there's going to be no more of that behavior."

You hug her back, careful to keep your champagne flute away from her. "Oh, really? That's good to hear." You force confidence back in your words as you pull away from the hug.

'No more of that behavior? He just asked me if I wanted to fuck again tonight.' The urge to smack Sonny or at least hope he was joking now hits deep. 

"Did you and Michael ever talk about it?" Sandra asks.

"After I came home? No." You clear your throat. "We had one conversation about it, and everything was pretty clear. Still, what he did in return was harsh. Really harsh."

"Maybe so." Sandra shrugs. "But you may just be thinking that because Michael's reaction came out as a surprise to all of us. Sonny deserved it," she sighs, her eyes flickering back to his table. "Even Pop said so."

"I suppose." You definitely remember Vito saying Sonny was glad to still be alive after Michael rocked his jaw and nose. 

"Sonny's learned from it, I can tell." Sandra seems reassured by her own words. "He's changed. And speaking of husbands…" Sandra's eyes suddenly light up. "I know all eyes were definitely on you and Michael tonight, especially with the way he was holding you during your dance."

"Oh." You blush, taken aback by the sudden change of conversation. "Thank you. I was looking forward to having a little dance with him all night."

"I bet." Sandra runs a hand through her hair with a playful grin. "The way he was looking right at you? Oh, you had to be there by the sidelines to see it. You guys are the perfect couple, honestly!"

Michael's own friends from his years at Dartmouth, as well as two private attorneys, a judge, a high-ranking detective, and two businessmen, remain at the table he takes a seat at and is warmly welcomed in response.

Connie sees Al Neri and Michael's other bodyguards approaching the table at a distance, keeping their eyes on the Don and his friends for general security purposes. 

Connie's gaze darts back to you with your sorority sisters, university colleagues, and coworkers from New York and Nevada alike gathered at a table in close proximity to Michael's.

From where Michael sits, he gets a perfect side view of you at your table with your friends, and although you know the table Michael sits at is occupied by his closest friends, you're neither aware of Michael being there at the moment nor do you look around. It's Michael whose gazing at you.

Hoping to be able to spend the rest of the evening with you, Michael's getting a taste of his own medicine now as you're the one who's occupied with others.

~

The official afterparty the Corleone family hosts is always specially reserved for closest friends, esteemed few guests, and most important business partners. 

Even the concept of an afterparty being scheduled is only known by the chosen guests alone and isn't uttered to anyone else throughout the main celebrations throughout the evening.

Since an afterparty is only held a scarce few times a year after such grand celebrations, guests rarely change and aren't just chosen by you and Michael alone but by the entire family.

As a result, the afterparty is much more private and relaxed, but the company is shared with those your family trusts the most and has known for many years, whether they be colleagues, associates, or childhood friends.

Only three of your closest friends remain to be your guests for tonight, who've also gotten along very well with Sandra and Connie since you introduced them all at your very first celebration with the Corleone family.

It's always been nothing but a relief to have everyone get along and remain distracted by the company of Sandra and Connie, who can drink and talk for hours on end, unlike you. It gives you some much-needed time to yourself if need be, such as if you need to handle something or head back inside the house.

As much as you enjoy socializing with friends and family, just like everyone else, you too have a social tolerance, and surpassing it only mentally exhausts you and does no good.

Mama Corleone sits by the garden with her childhood friend from Sicily, sharing a conversation over a glass of white wine as Vito does the same with close friend Amerigo Bonasera and family physician Jules Segal by the docks.

Tom and his fellow graduates from law school—also friends of yours—occupies himself with stories of passing the bar exam with some of Nevada's biggest hotshot attorneys at a table in the courtyard.

Michael remains in the boathouse only a short distance away from the gazebo with his friends, admiring the lakeside view of his yacht with them in deep conversation over cigarettes. 

Still feeling the buzz of the evening's celebrations over you, you take the opportunity to make an excuse to go to the bathroom and pick up another bottle of wine for the girls when in reality, your mind has been on the twins instead.

Michael and you haven't spoken to each other since the dance you shared earlier on in the evening, but neither of you had a chance to with your guests and formalities getting in the way. 

The twins have enjoyed the entirety of the party with the children of the guests, running around and snacking on treats while playing with Tom and Theresa's dogs until they quite literally exhausted themselves. 

Esther had to take Niccolò and Verona inside for a much-needed nap, and unbeknownst to you, Michael had shortly excused himself to his friends before taking in little Vincent and baby James inside himself.

With your two youngest sons still being infants, napping, throwing toys around, and aimlessly peeking around while shaking anything that makes a rattling or crinkling noise is just part of their routine. 

Still, Michael didn't take his sons back inside and put them to sleep himself to prove a point to you or to prove your point. He knows now more than ever after his third and fourth child entered the world that time spent with the babies is detrimental and prolonged absences aren't even remotely acceptable.

Michael and you both want Vincent and James to know their father is always around, to recognize him instantly, and not have to burst into tears to get some attention from their parents. So far, the concept has failed miserably, thanks to Michael's recent business ventures.

Esther remained inside for the rest of the evening once the children came in to take their naps. Your residence remained quiet otherwise, with nobody else in or around it except silent sentry and security as usual.

Keeping an eye on Vincent and James sleeping soundly, Esther took Niccolò and Verona to you and Michael's bedroom to play with their toys as you and Michael had always allowed it.

It was getting late after all, and with the afterparty about to kick in and other children heading home, Niccolò and Verona happily chose to pick out their favorite toys and spend some time back in residence instead.

You and Michael have never barred the twins from entering your bedroom or any other part of the house, for that matter. 

Much of the time, you prefer to breastfeed James while bouncing Vincent on your lap as you watch the twins play with their toys in front of you in the bedroom too.

Michael's office is mostly off-limits for just about anybody, but even the twins call it "the boring room where daddy does business" because it contains nothing but Michael's desk, seats, and bookshelves along the wall. 

If Michael isn't working or having a business meeting with anyone, he too doesn't spend any time in his office unless absolutely needed. Even for general peace and privacy, Michael spends time in the living room, on the balcony, by the pool, in the garden, and in the study, if he isn't in another residence on the compound.

Exhaling softly and feeling yourself relax after both the frustration and expected excitement of tonight's party, you smoothen out your black dress and walk past your security to the front door of your residence.

Stepping in, all is calm and quiet but the sound of the clock ticking upon the living room's wall. 

As you let the door close behind you and slip off your heels, you walk down the corridor and towards the bedroom, where you're able to pick up the sounds of the twins talking softly and playing the closer you get.

“Mi piacciono i cavalli.” (I like the horses.) Verona picks up her wooden set of horses with a smile. “Voglio costruire una piccola stalla per loro!” (I wanna build a small stable for them!)

“E gli animali della fattoria?” (What about the farm animals?) Niccolò picks up a toy cow, peeking down at it in the pile of his other toys. “Possiamo metterli in una stalla vicino ai cavalli?” (Can we put them in a barn next to the horses?)

Approaching the doorway and resting your hand against it, you can't help but smile at the well-behaved twins happily sharing and playing with their animal toys together. 

“Sì! Vuoi costruire un fienile con me? Ho dei giocattoli qui.” (Yeah! Want to build a barn with me? I have some toy pieces here.) Verona nods excitedly.

"Bene!" (Okay!) Niccolò scoots in closer to the toys near him and Verona.

Safety and security have been practically tripled since the assassination attempt on your and Michael's life in 1955. 

Neither you nor Michael or the twins had ever felt unsafe or doubted security before. Coming to know it was Fredo who allowed the assassination to occur half successfully in the first place let you and Michael know that it truly had nothing to do with the security measures you two had imposed on the family compound in the first place.

Still, it was no reason to back down, especially after that life-threatening experience and your mother's death as a result of poisoned bullets raining down on the residence. 

Security is always heavily prominent 24/7 but much more intensely and rigidly imposed when it comes to you, Michael, and the children especially.

"Ciao, voi due." (Hello, you two.) You softly greet the twins, walking into the bedroom. 

"Ciao, mamma!" (Hi, mama!) The two chime in at the same time, looking up at you. 

“Vi state divertendo con gli animali della stalla?” (Having fun with the barn animals?) You gesture down to their toys, stroking both Niccolò and Verona's hair.

“Faremo per loro una stalla e una stalla.” (We're gonna make a barn and horse stable for them.) Niccolòproudly admits. 

"Molto bello. Mi fai vedere quando è costruito?” (Very nice. Will you show me when it's built?) You chuckle, crossing your arms.

"Noi!" (We will!) Verona tells you excitedly, putting another toy horse next to her other one.

The sight of the twins safe and sound playing with their toys before you remind you of how they had come peeking in by the doorway in the middle of a thunderstorm when they were just four years old, eyes wide and scared.

Michael would've been the last one to go through with the idea of having the two twins snuggled up between you and him in bed during a thunderstorm, but being a father had changed him in many ways. He wasn't even entirely aware of back then.

Changing and adapting to motherhood and fatherhood, both of your lives changed for the better as you and Michael started a family of your own. 

You both knew whether you'd like it or not—accept it or not—you and Michael would always be the first and most important role models in your children's lives. 

The twins—let alone Vincent and James—never saw you and Michael fighting or heard the two of you raise your voices over each other. Of course, this didn't mean the two of you didn't argue as any normal couple does, but you both made sure never to do so near the twins. 

Niccolo and Verona have not only told the family but also mentioned amongst themselves how much they think their parents love and care about each other. It shows through your and Michael's actions and words towards one another, a healthy, caring love with compassion and understanding that you want the twins to learn from too.

“Di questo passo, voi due giochereste con i vostri giocattoli tutta la notte.” (At this rate, the two of you would be playing with your toys all night.) You hear a deep, velvety voice belonging to Michael come out from behind you—surprising you. 

'When did he…?!' Your eyes widen as you glance back to the doorway to see Michael standing by it, his emotionless eyes flickering up to you momentarily before looking back down at the twins.

“Non possiamo, papà?” (Can’t we, daddy?) Niccolo hugs onto one of his toys.

"Se solo." (If only.) Michael takes a few steps inside the bedroom, planting a kiss on both of the twins' heads. “È quasi mezzanotte ed è ora di andare a letto.” (It's almost midnight now and time for bed.)

"Dadddyyyy…!" Switching to English, Verona extends her arms out to her father as Michael hugs her warmly. "Can you tuck us in?"

“I will,” Michael murmurs, ignoring you as Niccolo rises to his feet. “And tomorrow, you two can play again as much as you’d like.” 

"Promettere?" (Promise?) Niccolo peeks up at Michael with hope, picking his toys off the ground.

"Prometto." (I promise.) Michael rubs Niccolo’s shoulder reassuringly. "Dì la buonanotte a tua madre, per favore." (Say goodnight to your mother, please.)

“Buonanotte, mamma!” (Good night, mama!) The twins ring out in unison to you. 

“Buona Notte.” You beam back at the two, giving them a little wave. 

Michael walks out of the bedroom with the twins, letting the door remain ajar as the three head back down the hallway—speaking inaudibly in soft Italian to one another.

You let out a deep sigh, still finding yourself flustered from Michael’s sudden presence. Clearing your throat and knowing a talk is obviously in order between you and Michael, you shake off the thought and close the bedroom door fully.

You pull apart the ribbons from your hair, letting your hair down from your updo and running your hands through it as you make your way over to the bathroom.

Combing through your soft hair and putting it up into a loose bun, you begin to wash off your makeup by the sink and cleanse your face with cream and moderately warm water.

You grab a small face cloth and soak it into the water, turning down the temperature a little bit before gently scrubbing any residue of the cleansing cream off of your face and eyes.

Once you dry off your face and hands, you hum quietly to yourself as you begin to nudge down the short sleeves of your dress off of your shoulders.

Just about to undress and strip down, you walk out of the bathroom as your dress’s sleeves cling loosely to your breasts and chest. You gasp out in surprise yet again to see Michael standing by your vanity table, leaning a hand against the chair by it and tapping his fingers against it impatiently. He remains across you, still dressed but without his suit jacket on, keeping one hand in the pocket of his dress trousers.

Blush stings your cheeks once more, especially standing before him with your breasts threatening to spill out of your dress at any moment. “Do you have to surprise me like that every time?”

Michael doesn’t answer you, simply gazing at you the same way he did when the two of you were slow dancing back at the party. 

An expectant look crosses his eyes as he takes his hand out of his pocket and gestures for you to approach him. “Come here.”

‘Stop…’ You know every inch of you wants to get down on your knees and crawl to Michael no matter how irritated you were with him earlier. 

Something in you desperately pulls you towards Michael like a moth to a flame with the way his smoldering, dark eyes look at you, the command in his voice, and how his slim fingers beckon.

Unable to hide that you’re blushing, you step towards Michael and approach him. Michael’s eyes dart over your dress first as if he’s admiring but cautiously analyzing the fabric quietly.

Michael’s brows furrow as he looks over at your breasts, barely covered by the dress, and you can’t help but feel disappointment in realizing that although you’ve been dressed like this for hours throughout the night, it’s the first time Michael’s actually taken a look at your appearance. 

“You look beautiful,” Michael’s tone remains soft and quiet. 

Your cheeks flare red with blush again at his compliment. “You clean up pretty well yourself. Didn’t get to look at me too much tonight?”

“Not nearly as much as I’d like to,” Michael softly exhales, gazing up at you. “No.” Michael reaches out his hand and touches the collar of your dress, pulling at the fabric of your breasts gently before coming to a pause. 

You watch his movements, too flustered to move or react until you notice Michael furrowing his brows in disappointment. “Did you go out like this?” Michael rubs his thumb over one of your nipples, causing you to bite down on your lip.

“Of course I did. You saw me.” You tell him, looking down at his fingers.

“Without a brassiere?” 

“I couldn’t exactly wear it with a brassiere, could I?” You place your hand gently on top of Michael’s. “It’s an off-the-shoulder piece, baby.”

Michael stares back at you. “You danced with Sonny while wearing this?”

‘Oh, I see what this is about. Ha.’ You can’t help but feel amused at Michael’s clear jealous disposition. 

A smirk spreads over your face. “Why, what’s wrong with it?”

“Answer me.” There’s that stern look growing back in Michael’s eyes.

“I did.” Holding onto Michael’s hand, you pull down the fabric to reveal your breasts. “This is what I wore all evening.”

“I can see your nipples through this.” Michael points out. 

Teasingly squeezing them together, you’re in too much of a playful mood now to take any of Michael’s reactions seriously. “Oh yeah? Then suck on them.”

“Victoria.” Michael raises his brows at you, severely unamused by your comment. 

“I’m getting undressed now, don’t worry.” You chuckle, turning your back to Michael as you lean over and inch off your dress bit by bit over your hips. “Wanna watch?” You glance over your shoulders, wanting to tease him badly.

You notice the irritated look in Michael’s eyes almost instantly changes to an erotic curiously filled with interest at your movements. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

“But you’re still watching.” You let your dress fall off your hips and pool to your feet just as quickly as you feel Michael’s hands grabbing your hips.

Gasping out in surprise, you feel Michael pin you up against the wall by the bed instantly but without remotely hurting you. 

Only in a pair of lace panties you giggle as Michael tilts your chin up to face him roughly before squeezing your face. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this.”

“Tell me what, Don Corleone?” You let out a muffled giggle.

“Stay away from Santino, Victoria.” The possessiveness and anger in his disposition only helps the wet patch grow in your panties, severely turning you on. “Your intentions aren’t the same as his, and you know that. God, do I need to move him out of here to make you listen?”

“I didn’t do anything, baby.” You grin back lazily at Michael, tilting your head back against the wall. “If he wants me, that’s on him. I only want you. Besides—how did you even see?”

“I see everything.” Michael breathes against your lips, pressing his body against yours. “And I was very well aware you were dancing with him. So what do you want me to do, huh? I was too busy, so you went with my brother?”

“You’re so jealous that you’re spinning this into a whole different story,” you sloppily kiss Michael’s fingers. “It was just one swing dance, baby. I can do whatever I want.”

“Actually, you can’t.” Michael narrows his eyes. “With Sonny? No, you can’t. Not without justifying it.”

“I think you’re pushing it.” You smirk back, bucking your hips up against Michael’s growing erection through his dress trousers.

“I’ll push it even farther, baby.” Michael squeezes your face harshly, giving it a shake. “I’ll fucking push it.”

“Push it then.” You moan, feeling his cock brushing up against the fabric of your panties.

“Everything you did tonight was just to get a reaction out of me,” Michael tells you through gritted teeth, but even you can easily see how severely aroused he’s grown.

“That’s your jealousy talking—oh!” You squeal out in excitement as Michael clasps a firm hand around your throat, hauling you over to the balcony. “Michael!”

“What’s the matter, huh?” Michael tugs on a fistful of your hair with his free hand, pushing you down onto the lounge chair by the ledge of the balcony. “You want to put on a show? We can put on a show.”

You lick over your lips, grinning back at him as your breasts press up against the velvet of the lounge chair. “Where everyone can see and hear us, huh?”

“Who said anyone can see you from up here?” Michael narrows his eyes, quick to snatch your panties down your ass. “Hearing you is a whole other story.”

“Ah!” You quickly clasp a hand over your mouth as you feel Michael’s hand smack your ass harshly. “N-not fair.”

“You wouldn’t know anything about that,” Michael speaks to you in a low, husky tone as he spanks you again over the same area. “You don’t play fair.”

“Punishing me?” You breathe, clutching onto the sides of the lounge chair as you arch your back.

“Punishing you?” Michael gives you a disapproving look, “I’m making sure—” He spanks you even harder, his wedding band hitting your now reddened skin. “—that you enjoy this.”

“F-fuck,” you whimper, pressing the side of your face up against the lounge chair as Michael continues to spank you. 

“But after this, all you’ll do is beg.” Michael presses one knee down on the edge of the lounge chair, keeping full dominance and control over you by pulling your hair back and locking your thigh between his legs tightly. “And I won’t give you a damn thing.”

“A-acting like you’re not getting off to this,” you let out a shaky giggle. “You don’t wanna fuck your frustrations out on me, huh?”

“Does it surprise you—” Michael watches as your skin glows pink from spanking you rapidly in succession, each hit harder than the last. “—that I don’t?”

“Mm!” You moan again as you feel Michael purposefully brush his fingers up against your clit. “Y-you’re bluffing.”

“I’m. Not.” Michael tilts your face roughly to face him. “And everybody can hear you.”

“Maybe I should moan louder, then.” You breathe heavily, “so everyone can hear how Michael Corleone’s spanking me naked up on our balcony.”

“I’m doing no such thing.” Michael’s hand comes down on your ass again as harshly as he can hit—the tingly, stinging pain mixing in with the pleasure of how aroused you’ve grown, especially naked out on the balcony where there’s the thrill of being seen and heard.

“If you want me—” Michael kneels off the lounge chair, pulling away from you. “then you’ll take what’s yours, but I’m not giving you what you want.”

“I don’t deserve it, huh?” Wincing, your thighs tremble as you carefully lay down on your side, spreading open your legs before Michael. “Not now and for the last few days either? Mm, Michael Corleone doesn’t want me anymore.”

Michael stares back at you, his eyes darkening with lust as he watches you teasingly slick your hands down your wet pussy lips. “Maybe it’s because I like watching you squirm.”

Michael loosens his black silk tie and begins to unbuckle his belt—acting as if he’s unphased. “Or it’s because I want you to want me.”

Michael turns away from you, letting his belt fall to the ground as he runs a hand through his hair—breaking through his neatly slicked look to casually tousled and relaxed.

‘Fuck. Now he’s the one teasing me?’ The knot of arousal only grows more in demand in your gut as you bite down on the corner of your lip in frustration. 

Loving to tease but hate being teased yourself, you get off of the lounge chair and follow right behind just as Michael wants you to.

“You want me, Victoria?” Michael sits on the edge of the bed, a few buttons of his dress shirt undone to reveal a peek of his chest hair and skin.

“You have no idea...” You make sure to firmly close the balcony door behind you. “Don’t tease me like that.”

“I’ll do what I want.” Michael grips the bed sheets with both hands, tilting his body back. 

“This is your way of making this all up to me, huh? Your absence.” A slow smirk forms over your lips as you approach Michael, placing a hand over the remaining closed buttons on his dress shirt. You keep your eyes on Michael as you begin to undo the rest of the buttons one by one. “I know what you want.”

“Seduction alone won’t suffice, baby.” Michael’s tone falls low. 

“It doesn’t for you, that’s for sure.” Your eyes dart over Michael’s chest hungrily as you throw open his dress shirt, nudging it off his arms. “If you’re all mine now, then I’m gonna do whatever I want with you.”

Michael doesn’t reply back to you, knowing he’d never admit or let go of his pride as to just how much it turns him on to see you in control, taking out your dirtiest desires on him. 

You’ve very well guessed the same and can feel his dark eyes watching your movements as you let his dress shirt crumple to the floor. “Fuck,” you roam your hands over Michael’s chest before quickly clasping them over his wrists. “Undress.” You gesture to his dress trousers, “take everything off.”

You easily notice how Michael’s muscles clench with arousal as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of his dress trousers and briefs, inching both of them off down. 

From the moment Michael’s erect cock springs free, you grab onto the fabric of his trousers and briefs, pulling them off him entirely before immediately straddling Michael. 

“Victoria,” Michael’s breath hitches as you press your pussy down directly onto his shaft, his hands eagerly squeezing your hips. 

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” You inhale sharply, raking a hand through your hair to brush it away from your face as your let your hands roam over Michael’s shoulders and biceps. “Mm…” 

Desperate to keep his mind off of your warm, wet pussy dripping onto his shaft—alone grabbing your hips, raising them up before ramming his cock into you—Michael gazes up at you expectantly.

“And I’m obsessed—” You hover over Michael, keeping your pussy angled onto his shaft as you trail the tip of your nose up from his chest towards Michael's collarbones. “—with every inch of you.”

Michael takes in a soft, shuddering inhale at your touch against his skin. 

“Not that I ever had to tell you…” You press your warm lips against his torso, kissing back down while squeezing and letting your hands wander over Michael’s arm muscles. “How bad I want you all the time.” 

“Mm,” a soft moan escapes Michael’s lips as you slowly grind your pussy over his cock, sliding your hands down Michael’s arms to lace both hands with him tightly. 

“No more absences.” You breathe hotly against Michael’s neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses. 

“Fuck,” Michael lets out another breathy moan, unlacing both of his hands from yours and wrapping his arms around your waist to press your body down onto his.

You chuckle at Michael’s reaction, more than pleased by it as you cup a hand over his cheek, tilting Michael’s face towards you as you seal a kiss over his lips. “Or I’m coming into your office and fucking you right then and there on your table.”

“Think I’m avoiding you, baby?” Michael grunts out quietly as you lean back up.

“You couldn’t if you tried.” You smirk wryly at him, slightly bucking your hips up as you position his cock against your entrance. “You can do your work that way; I don’t care.”

“Oh, fuck,” Michael moans loudly, catching you by pleasant surprise as you take his cock inside of you.

“Mm,” you squeeze your eyes shut as you feel every inch of Michael entering inside of you.

Michael’s hands hold onto your hips, keeping them in place as he grunts softly before sighing in ecstasy. “I can feel all of you in this angle.”

“Perfect, baby.” You breathe out, watching your thighs shake a little as you begin to bob your hips up and down on Michael’s cock.

“Ohhhh, yes!” You cry out as you buck your hips against Michael’s at a speedy pace, finding the perfect rhythm. 

From the deep angle that Michael enters you, your pussy contracts at every sensitive spot inside of you his cock comes into contact with.

Sensations of repeated pleasure build and rock through your entire body with each thrust of Michael’s cock. Riding him fully in your control, Michael feels himself pulsating inside of you with arousal—building up an intense orgasm. 

“Yes, yes—” Michael’s full lips remain pursed open, relieving shaky breaths as he watches you bounce on his cock—taking in each and every inch of him again and again. 

Michael struggles to keep quiet himself—a rare occurrence that does nothing but fuel your arousal hearing his velvety voice ring out with moans as you fuck him. 

“Faster, baby, faster.” Michael pants, beginning to slam his hips upward to yours.

The bedroom fills with the sounds of your wet pussy sloshing against Michael’s soaked shaft. You let out an out-of-breath giggle and glance down momentarily to see his cock easily sliding in and out of you.

“Michael,” you half-whimper, half moan as you clutch onto his chest. “Oh, fuck yes! S-so good! So fucking good!”

Michael’s grasp over your hips presses so harshly that it could bruise your skin, only amplifying your orgasm building in your gut from multiple overlapping sensations. 

“H-happened to staying quiet, huh?” Michael grunts, thrusting his hips upward at an even faster pace than before. “S-say my name again.”

Filled to the brim with Michael’s cock, skin slaps against skin as Michael pounds into your pussy like a wild animal over and over again. 

“Michael—Michael,” you groan out, unable to stop your thighs from shaking against his body.

Everything about having Michael submit fully to you as your hips control both of your thrusts and movement is rhythmic ecstasy. 

“God, I love it when you say my name like that—" Michael inhales shakily, moving his hand upward to squeeze at your jiggling breasts as you ride him. “Because you love taking this cock in you, don’t you?”

Michael’s tousled hair sticks to sweat forming over his forehead as you continue to bring him to uncontrollable, loud moans. 

“Y-yes—mm! Harder!” You press down on Michael’s hands over your breasts as you can feel your knees growing weak from your orgasm about to unwind. 

Excitement surges through you in a frenzy of arousal just in the way Michael parts his lips open and rolls his eyes back in pleasure.

“Uh! Oh my God!” You squeal out as Michael’s cock slips out of your pussy.

Both of you let out an exhale as Michael props himself up on his elbows, grasping his cock and tapping the shaft against your pussy.

“C’mon, baby,” Michael locks eyes with you as he guides his cock into your pussy. 

Feeling the thick warmness of Michael’s cock fill you up again, you whine as you wrap your arms around Michael’s shoulders, who now sits upright. 

“G-gonna cum, gonna cum—” You groan, tugging on Michael’s dark hair as he buries his face between your breasts.

“Oh, baby.” Michael’s legs shake against yours as he reaches the tipping point of his orgasm, holding back and edging it. 

Michael slicks his fingers over your dewy clit, toying with it at the same rapid pace that you continue to fuck him with.

Your clit aches to be touched and the only thing muffling out your moans is Michael’s mouth hotly pressing up against yours, now sloppily tongue kissing you.

You dig your nails into Michael’s shoulders, stealing moan after moan from his lips as your wetness begins to trickle down your thighs and onto Michael’s pubic hair.

The pressure of having all thick, eight inches of Michael inside of you is nothing short of sublime. Michael’s gaze towards you is filled with nothing but an insistent lust and desire, obsessed with the way you curve and move your hips over his cock.

Edging your own orgasm as Michael is until you know you can’t take anymore, you swear to yourself your body’s hitting new heights of pleasurably ecstasy from the way your muscles begin to tense up.

A string of spit separates as you two pull away from the full-mouthed kiss; both of your sweaty bodies collide with one another as you refuse to let your hips relent, riding Michael’s cock.

“’ Atta girl,” Michael smacks your ass with both hands, both of you dazed, gazing back at each other as Michael’s bedroom eyes burn back into yours. 

Crying out and cocking your head back, Michael nuzzles your neck lovingly and holds your body against his. You gasp deeply to feel with a final thrust that Michael’s cums inside you—thick spurt after spurt flowing inside of you. 

“Oh, I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” You shriek out in pleasure as your orgasm releases out of your control.

Michael’s eyes snap open as he lets out a low moan, breathing heavily. You hold your hips in place, glancing down to see your legs trembling uncontrollably against Michael’s waist as an aftermath of your orgasm. 

The relief of the intense orgasm is heavenly, washing over every inch of your body in nothing but sheer, tantalizing pleasure. 

“Shit,” Michael hisses out, feeling you clench around his cock.

In each other’s embrace and both panting for breath, you swallow hard as Michael presses his forehead against yours. 

You give out a little gasp as Michael roughly grasps your throat, applying pressure to the sides so as not to hurt your windpipe before looking you in the eye. “I like fucking you like my personal whore in bed just as much as I do making love to you as my wife.”

Blush stings your cheeks as your face flushes red at Michael’s words, let alone how your arousal still doesn’t back down seeing his hair a ruffled, sweaty miss and Michael’s pouty, full lips still glistening wet from your kiss.

“When I tell you I’ll make something happen, I’ll make it happen. I don’t want to hear you say the word ‘absence’ again. I’m always going to make time for our family, understood?” He breathes.

“Y-yes,” you can barely form the words together to describe how erotic you find it when Michael clasps a hand over your throat.

“Good.” Michael’s eyes dart over your face and down to how his slim fingers are wrapped around your throat. “I know you’ll only ever beg for my cock,” Michael buckles his hips upward, tapping his shaft against your pussy. “No matter who you’re dancing with—isn’t that right?”

“Michael,” you look away out of embarrassment, whining softly.

“Look at me when I talk to you.” There’s a familiar, demanding sternness in Michael’s voice.

You peek back up at him shyly, unable to see any anger or sign that he’s upset. 

“Or do I need to fuck the answer out of your mouth?” Michael moves his hand from your throat to your hair, giving it a harsh pull.

“Mm!” You wince as he forces you off of his lap and onto the bed, coaxing your head towards his cock, still soaked with his and your cum.

“I think I do.” Michael narrows his eyes at you. “Do I have to tell you twice?”

“Never, Don Corleone.” You breathe against the tip of his cock, clutching it with one hand. 

“’ Atta girl,” Michael murmurs, guiding your head as you slowly take his cock in your mouth—looking into his eyes. “It’s my turn to have my fun with you.”

[loveilovetoo]

hi how are you? do you think that in the movie the godfather, michael loved kay?

YES. YES, HE DID. And I'm tired of hearing he didn't/he used her because it's not true. 😐 I feel very strongly about this 💀 *Vito voice* and I'll give you my reasons why.

First off, the movie doesn't focus on detailing much of Michael's relationships with anyone. I'll just put that there because Michael is so selfish that if we stick to just the movies, then no, we can't say he showed he loved anybody at all, and if he did, he didn't show it/how are we supposed to know? 👀

He isn't even seen as a very interactive father with his own two children besides the one scene of him comforting Anthony in TGF2. This is why I prefer the book, imo.

I love the movie in the sense that Michael is portrayed almost as a completely different person. He's cold, cunning, cruel and strategic, but a terrible person really. He's very loveable and still in Don mode in the book, and I love Al Pacino's representation of Michael but movie Michael's character is not a likeable or good person at all.

Michael is mentioned to love 2 people; that he "loves his father" and that "he loves Kay". He mentions in the book Kay is his dream girl. 🥺!! Al Pacino said: "Michael loved her when he met her and he loved her throughout his life and he loves her to this day, even though their relationship was surrounded by a lie. He not only loves her, he admires her." 😭❤

Michael had made it clear more than once that Kay was more important to him than his family and that he liked to confide in her. Kay was the only one Michael asked (and cared for, opinion wise) if he should get surgery for his face. Fredo slightly comments on this in the movie (scene where Michael is about to meet Moe Greene). It's mentioned Kay is the only one who can make Michael essentially act like not Michael. Only she can change his nature.

When Michael also returned from Sicily, he wasn't glad to see anyone in his family except Kay. In a Michael Corleone way, he confessed "that was [being in] love [with Kay]". He also admitted to her he had sex (with Apollonia). He was honest and forthcoming, and showed Kay he still loved her and wanted her (and gave his reasons why!!). Michael also considered changing his last name (in the book) so Kay wouldn't get caught up in the reputation the Corleone family had at the time.

He also planned to get married in a private ceremony with Kay around Christmas, then tell his family. He was planning on moving in with her during the summers while they studied and so forth.

I love Kay, and she's one of my favorite characters in TGF series. She was made out to be annoying and meddlesome in the movies (she isn't AT ALL in the book) which *Vito voice* that I do not forgive. There's so much more to her character, which is why I can't recommend the book enough.

I actually have gone into depth of her and Michael's entire relationship on this post here which is insanely long, but if you want the proof, it's there!! Justice for my girl Kay who belongs with Michael forever! 💞💓💕

[loveilovetoo]

the originals

[loveilovetoo]