Sunday, February 1, 2015

Laura Conti Interviews Frano D'Angelo

Please note: This interview relates to the first My Masters' Nightmare collection (containing Episodes 1-5).

"Hello, Frano, thank you for allowing me to interview you."
"Prego." Frano sits down across from me. We're in my office in Palermo, which overlooks the main park.
I push my hair behind my ear, feeling self-conscious for the first time in an interview. Not only is he the Don of the infamous D'Angelo mafia family, but he's also extremely attractive. He's dressed in a dark suit, which I think is Armani. Under his jacket, he's wearing a smart white shirt, with the top few buttons left open, giving me a sneak peak of his muscular chest. He has black hair, which is tidily combed back, dark-olive skin, and entrancing hazel eyes.

I lower my gaze to my notes, hoping he doesn't think I was staring. "Let's start with my questions." I blush, wishing I didn't work for a trash magazine, because my editor's questions aren't exactly appropriate to be asking a man of Frano's stature.
I look up at him and clear my throat, hoping he doesn't laugh at me, or worse, tell me off for what I'm about to ask. "My first question is, what is your favorite female body part."
He smiles. "Can I say pussy in the interview?"
My face heats.
His eyebrows rise, as though he thinks I don't approve. "How about tits then?"
Feeling a mega-watt blush coming on, I splutter out, "Those answers are fine." I look back down at my questions, relieved by the next one. "Have you ever streaked before?"
". When I was fourteen, my brother dared me to run across a football field with only a ski mask on my face. Even though it was a big match, I managed not to get caught, but unfortunately it was televised. We were watching it on the TV when my brother burst out laughing, saying it must’ve been cold. I yelled at him that he couldn’t see merda because I had my hands over my cock. Unfortunately, my father entered the room right at that moment. I couldn’t sit on my ass for a week afterwards, because of bloody Alberto."
I stifled a laugh. "Are you superstitious?"
"I can be sometimes."
I smile at the next question. "What moves you or more specifically, what touches your soul?"
"Listening to my cousin Thierry sing. That boy has the most beautiful voice I have ever heard. It gives me the chills just listening to him. My other cousin, Jagger, also has a haunting voice, but he rarely sings nowadays."
"Have you ever been cheated on?" I ask, expecting the answer to be no, the man too good-looking to cheat on.
"No. I’ve had females cheat on their boyfriends and partners to be with me, but have never had it happen the other way round. And it’s not wise to cheat on someone like me." He smiles, his expression telling me retribution would happen.
I swallow. "What was your favorite pastime as a child?"
"Swimming in the lake and river with my brother."
"Have you ever fallen in love at first sight?"
"I fall in lust at first sight, but love takes longer. And I have only fallen in love with one person, but she was murdered. I have lusted after many, some more than others, like this FBI agent I've recently met. She looks just like my dead lover, so much so that it's hard not to lust after her. She also fascinates me. She is a very strong woman, which I like."
"Which ancient place would you like to visit?"
"These questions are rather eclectic."
"Yes, sorry, my editor wrote them. So, which is the ancient place you want to see?"
"Probably the Colosseum in Rome, where the gladiatorial contests were held."
"Would you like to..." I stop speaking, my editor's question inappropriate.
"Would I like to what?" he asks.
"Sorry, my editor has asked for a date with you. She is rather cheeky. I do apologize."
He barks out a laugh. "No need to apologize, tell her I'm flattered. But I can't, I have my eye on the FBI agent."
"A Don and an FBI agent. I wouldn't have thought that was a good idea."
"It's not." He goes quiet, not elaborating further.
I clear my throat again, probably making him think I have a cold, but instead it's nerves. "Let's continue the questions. What is the most embarrassing moment you’ve experienced in your lifetime?"
"It was when I was paraded naked in front of ten Dons by the Donatelli pigs. They wanted to humiliate me and they did, but I refused to show it. I stood strong and spoke my mind."
"I'm sorry to hear that, but happy you're all fine now. Anyway, thank you for your time today," I say, not wanting to tell him I have an interview scheduled with one of the Donatelli.
"Prego." Frano pushes up from his seat and takes hold of my hand, giving it a kiss. I smile, again finding him intensely attractive.

He lets go and turns to leave. I follow him to the door, saying ciao as he exits it. He glances back, giving me a smile, then heads out of my office and down the aisle towards the main exit. My fellow office workers look up as he passes by, the women drooling over him.

As soon as he disappears out the door, my best friend jumps up from one of the journalists' desks to run over. She has her own office, but probably wanted to get a gawk at Frano, the seat adjacent to my office.
"What was he like to talk to?" she squeals, bouncing on her feet. Despite being in her forties, she acts like a twenty-something fan girl when good-looking men are around. She's the ultimate cougar, with dyed-blonde hair, a Botox filled complexion, and the tiniest figure that only lettuce can survive in.
"He was very polite, though I should throttle you for writing those awful questions. Did you really have to know what his favorite female body part was?"
She giggles, her cheeky expression telling me she didn't.
I scowl at her. "You owe me a drink."
"And you owe me Frano's number." She points at the paper she gave me. "Did you ask him my date question?"
"He's interested in someone else."
She pouts. "No fair."
"You do realize what he is, don't you?"
She scowls at me. "He's hot, so shoot me."
"You might just get shot literally if you go out with him. He's a mafia boss."
"I already know that, and don't tell me you wouldn't go out with him, even just once for a fuck."
"He wouldn't ask me out. As I said, he likes someone else."
"Ooh, find out who she is. Maybe we can interview her too."
"He said she's FBI."
Her eyes widen. "A Don likes an FBI agent? I'd love to be a fly on their wall."
"Wouldn't we all."
The End.
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Please note: All characters, names, places, and incidents in this interview are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual events, locales, or real persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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