Ambrose's Muse

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A surprise update for all of you, hope you enjoy it! Reminder: I have sent chapters 6,7,8 and 9 to the paid supporters and also uploaded on Patreon.

“She has a fiancé!” Ambrose snapped, “and here I thought I had a chance!”

Victor grinned.

“I am for one very happy,” Victor shrugged, “we don’t need her entering into our lives.”

“Why do you have a problem with her?” Ambrose snapped, “I know what you did. Why did you have to scare her?”

“I have no problems with her, I just want her to be safe,”

“We are safe, Victor. This property is nothing but a fortress, and I have left that life behind, it is my past. I am nor returning to it.”

“You are really stupid if you think that you are out of the underworld. You can never break your ties. Didn’t you say that? What happened?”

Ambrose seethed silently. He didn’t reply to his cousin, because he knew Victor was right. You never really truly broke your ties from the mafia. It was always a part of you. It was as much a part of you as the blood running in your veins.

“And coming back to the topic on hand, there is some disturbance. I could feel it when I was back in New York. Everyone was way too cautious. The Russians have gone underground,”

“What do you mean?”

“The FBI is sniffing around; they can feel it too. All the crime families are on high alert,”

“I do not understand. Did you not get any intel?”

“Its too quiet, no one wants to speak.”

“Call, Malcolm,” Ambrose said.

“Are you sure?”

“We need to know. We need to be prepared. I want to be aware of all the eventualities,”

Victor nodded and picked his phone out.

“Hello, Ricardo? Get me, Malcolm, in Ambrose’s office. Right now,”

Malcolm was one of the world’s best assassins. He was quiet, and no one could anticipate what he was about to do. Malcolm was a bulky man but as graceful as a ballerina. The man had absolutely no emotions but at the same time had the talent of an Oscar winner. He could play a waitress, a drag queen and a child with ease. And he could kill even more efficiently.

Malcolm held his loyalties to Ambrose. No family, only Ambrose. Ambrose had found Malcolm injured when he was only a boy. He had brought up Malcolm as his own brother.

“You asked for me,”

Ambrose nodded and invited Malcolm. He was trained in Siberia. Malcolm looked rough, it was his real self: rugged and harsh. But when the assassin switched on, Malcolm was a different person altogether.

“I need you to go to New York City,” Ambrose said. He stood up and walked to Malcolm. Ambrose had to look slightly up; the assassin was taller by two inches.

“Who do I need to kill?” Malcolm asked in his gruff voice.

“No one, I just need to know what is really happening there. Be my eyes and ears. Give me daily reports.”

Malcolm didn’t question, he just nodded. He turned around and walked out of the room when Ambrose stopped him.

“And Malcolm? Please take care.”

Malcolm cleared his throat and nodded.

“You worry too much,” Victor said.

“It makes me feel human, Malcolm is only twenty-six, Victor. As old as my own brother.”

Victor nodded.

“I don’t know, I don’t know how Xander must be handling the entire syndicate by himself. I left him to fend for himself and the entire family when he was only ten.”

“You did what you had to do, Capo Valentine may not understand it. The entire syndicate may think of you as a traitor, but I know what you sacrificed for them. And if they get to know then they will accept you again. In fact, you will be allowed to call yourself Ambrose Valentine once again.”

“That’s wishful thinking, Victor,”

“I just know that it is not over, I think there is still a lot left for us to do.”

Ambrose could feel it too.

“Just keep going, brother,” Victor said and walked out of the room.

Ambrose stared out of his window. It had been sixteen years since he left his position as the Capo of the Valentine syndicate. He was the youngest and yet the most lethal ones. All their enemies had fallen to their knees, begging for mercy. They cowered in their boots; the cigars trembled in their mouth when he walked by them. Such was the fear. And that fear brought respect.

Life was good.

But then he appeared. And everything went down from then. Failed business deals, more deaths in the syndicate and somehow the police always knew where their shipments were coming from.

It didn’t take long for Ambrose to realise who it was. He. The mastermind. How skilfully had he risen from nowhere and wreaked havoc? Suddenly, there was someone that Ambrose started to fear. It was him. He was silent and lithe, and his mind the most dangerous tool. Ambrose was scared, he was a puppet.

Soon, it was him that they started to fear, rightfully so. The FBI wanted him, but he scared them more than any terrorist in the world. And they turned to Ambrose for that, at that point, Ambrose would’ve done anything to rid their family of him. So, he became an informer. In return he asked for immunity.

It had been sixteen years, and Ambrose now lived a peaceful life. It was boring, but he would take boring any day over the blood and gore that was a part of his life not many years ago. In those days he craved that boredom.

At least he had Bell.

A smile appeared on Ambrose’s lips. He got up from his chair and walked out of the room. Bell had become the highlight of his days since she came here. There was a tiny bit of problem, her fiancé. Ambrose needed that man out of Bell’s life.

Also, who likes being called Smoochy?

Ambrose scrunched up his face. But then he thought about it, would he mind such an endearment from Bell? Absolutely not, he would love getting called Smoochy. Not in front of others but yes, anything that Bell gave to him.

But a question hit his mind. Why was the fiancé called Smoochy?

Maybe because he smooches a lot.

The thought alone made Ambrose combust. The fact that some other man other than Ambrose touched and held Bell and in his arms wasn’t welcoming.

Ambrose stopped in front of her room about to knock when he heard giggles. He smiled. She giggled again and then it seemed she was in a fit of laughter. Ambrose grinned; it was the most beautiful sound ever. It was like the bells chiming.

“I love you so much,” Bell whispered, “I know! I will be back soon, please hold tight.”

“Seattle? You don’t have to come here.” Bell now sounded panicked. “It’s just that I am so busy with the training that I hardly have any time for myself.”

Ambrose narrowed his eyes. She was lying to Smoochy.

“Bye, I love you,” Bell whispered as Ambrose entered the room

“So, you are lying to the love of your life,” Ambrose stated.

“And you heard into our conversations?” Bell asked. She looked appalled.

“My apologies, it was not intentional. But why are you lying to him?”

“That is a stupid question, Ambrose. You know why I am lying to him. I don’t want him getting to know about this arrangement between you and me,”

“I just think that you should tell him. Relationships stand strong on the foundations of love, trust and understanding. You are lying, keeping the man in the dark,”

“I am not cheating on him. Maybe in your book, yes but I don’t think he would mind,”

“Really? Then why don’t you tell him about it?”

Bell stared right at him with her piercing eyes, Ambrose didn’t back down. He was not going to let this girl get to him. It was wrong, Ambrose knew it. Her relationship would suffer because of this. No man, whatever the century maybe, would accept this.

Bell picked her phone and called her fiancé. She pressed the speaker button.

A deep voice reverberated.

“Smoochy?” Bell addressed him. Ambrose wanted to barf.

“Baby girl?” Smoochy replied, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, I wanted to tell you something.”

“Go ahead,” Smoochy already sounded suspicious.

“Um, the internship that I am doing here in Seattle?”


“Actually, it is not really an internship…”

“Okay, then what is it?”

“I am actually here as a muse for an artist. He wanted to paint something, and I got selected for it. It is a paid job.”

“That’s cool, do I know this artist?”

“I don’t think so, he likes to stay anonymous.”

“Alright, is that all?”

“Say that you are a ‘naked muse’,” Ambrose whispered.

“Actually, there is more to it,” Bell mumbled.

“Uh… go on,”

“I am a naked muse. I just thought you should know, you know, you might have a problem with it.”

Smoochy was silent on the other side.

“Why would I have a problem?” Smoochy said.

Ambrose’s jaw dropped, and a triumphant smile appeared on Bell’s lips. She stuck her tongue out at Ambrose.

“This is the twenty-first century, Bell. You are in charge of your own body. And I know this is a professional deal, I also know that you will not cheat on me. So, be cool, alright? I trust you completely!”

“Thank you so much,” Bell whispered, “I was so scared.”

“Don’t be, just enjoy okay,”

Bell wiped her tears and ended the call. She then looked at Ambrose.

“I think Smoochy has made it clear that whatever is between us is nothing but a professional relationship. So pick-up your paintbrush and start doing your business,” Bell sassed.

Ambrose crossed his arms across his chest.

“I think there is something fishy. I don’t like it, but maybe your fiancé is doing something wrong behind your back. Maybe he is cheating on you, or maybe he is gay,”

“That is offensive, Ambrose. I want to stop you right there,” Bell said, “please find something better to do with your time.”

Ambrose gulped down the words he had prepared. Bell had opened up, she was comfortable enough to pass insults, and that’s what he had wanted all along. She rolled her eyes at him and looked down at her phone. Ambrose had heard of arrogant ballerinas, ones who thought way too highly of themselves. Was Bell one? It was a massive turn on.

He stepped out of the room.

“Close the door, please,” Bell announced.

Ambrose gritted his teeth and did as she told.


Bell saw Ambrose close the door. As soon as she left a sigh escaped her lips. Bell was an assured person, years of ballet instilled in you a form of self-confidence. Constant accolades, good grades and playing lead in many performances had boosted Bell’s sense of self-worth. Initially, when she had come to Ambrose, she was like a shy lamb, but she had taken her own sweet time to open up.

Ambrose Vasilakis.

Bell had never been so strongly attracted to someone. Lex was a very sure-footed and well-groomed man. She had met him at a club, and they had hit it off immediately. Soon enough, they had started to date. She was impressed by his modern ideals and his courage. He always took everything head-on.

But there were a few problems. Lex was very weird with kisses, and he never slept with her. Bell wanted to have sex with him, really take the relationship forward, but Lex was never ready for it. It was frustrating, and now with a hunky ex-mafia billionaire around her, it was getting all the more difficult to really keep her virginity.

If things were up to her, she would have given it to him. But she was a committed person, and she wouldn’t lose out on a gem like Lex only because she was feeling horny. With that she plopped back on bed and closed her eyes. Sleep was easy for her. She could sleep in an aeroplane, economy coach and the middle seat. She could also rest on a bus.

And now that she had time for it then why not?

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