Entering the witness protection program and testifying against the Italian
La Cosa Nostra
was the only way Giavanna could avoid spending decades in prison.
More importantly, she was desperate for a second chance with her son. She swore to raise him right. To repent for all her sins in the mafia.
Her luxurious lifestyle in Miami was gone forever and now she was trapped in a quiet suburb of Minnesota. The home was a standard affair in the freezing cold neighborhood. Three bedrooms upstairs. Two baths. Squeaky floors. Outdated utilities.
With her son exploring the nearby mall, Giavanna was sitting by the dining room table across from a female federal agent. Giavanna was still dressed like a typical mob-wife in her designer clothes and heavy makeup. She rolled her eyes as the questions kept on coming.
"I'll need you to focus," Agent Sabatini said without expression. "Your answers need to be perfect."
Giavanna scoffed. "Yeah, yeah, yeah."
"You've been like this all morning. Is there something you want to get off your chest?"
"Like you'd care."
She pursed her lips and put her head down. This was grueling. This was agony.
It had been over a week since she last saw or spoke to anyone in her family. And her friends? She no longer had any. Once the most powerful and respected woman in upscale Miami, now she was a dolled up Italian woman in the whitest neighborhood imaginable.
"It's my job to care," the agent said. "What's on your mind? Are you still arguing with your son?"
Giavanna sat quietly for a moment. "Leo is 19 years old, handsome, and athletic. He should be at home in Miami, flirting with all the girls on the beach. Because of me, he's had to drop out of college. He won't see his friends and family anymore either."
"If you really love your son, then you did the right thing."
"Did I?" she asked, with her voice nearly cracking.
"His father is a mafia captain. You made the smart choice taking him away from that lifestyle. You now have a chance to be the loving parent that he needs. And you can't do that if you're in prison."
Giavanna sighed. "It tears my heart to pieces to see him like this. Motherhood used to mean buying him whatever he wanted. That's all I knew about parenting."
"And now you're afraid that you can't be a good mother without all of that money."
"What else do I have? There's only so many times I can say that I'm sorry to him."
"Leo will eventually forgive you," Agent Sabatini said. "Let's return to our trial preparation."
Giavanna tossed her hair back and rubbed her neck. "What are you, a fucking robot? I need a second."
"I understand you're under a lot of stress."
"I don't think so. You don't know what it's like."
The agent was relentless. "Maybe not, but I'm also a mother and I work impossible hours to handle important cases for the government. So I can empathize with what you're going through."
"My son Leo... I'll do anything for that young man. He's my life."
"Let's continue. He'll be fine."
"Wow, you're a bitch," Giavanna sneered. "Is that all you can say? You really are a fucking robot."
Slowly the agent's facade seemed to come down and she reached over to turn off the recorder.
"Want some real advice?" the agent asked, with a slight New York accent slowly seeping through.
Giavanna leaned in. "Yeah. Talk to me like an adult for once."
"This stays between us," Agent Sabatini said. "From one Italian mother to another, there's nothing a 19 year old male wants more than sex. Everything he does is because he wants to get laid."
"Like I don't already know that."
"He's at a difficult age where friends and interactions are crucial. It would help if he had a girlfriend or someone to fill a certain void."
The innuendo was clear enough, and being a street smart woman, Giavanna was able to pick it up.
She nearly laughed. "What are you saying? You want to hire a hooker for my son?"
"I won't facilitate an illegal act on your behalf. But I'll say this; the agency only knows what I tell them. If I want to keep something secret, then it will be a secret."
Giavanna looked puzzled. "You want me to fuck my son?"
"I never stated that."
"Yeah, well that's what you're implying. You're a fucking robot and a psychopath too."
Agent Sabatini was unphased. "The point is, lengthy trials are extremely stressful, especially for people who've never been to court. Pursuant to the agreement you have with the federal government, I'd say it's in your best interest to maintain a happy home."
"What? You don't think I'm trying hard enough?"
"Try harder. If you're ineffective as our star witness, then remember, the government will cancel the agreement and send you to prison."
The agent reached over and touched her shoulder. Giavanna held the agent's hand. This was now her only friend in the world, as painful as that seemed.
"Do you think I could do it?" Giavanna asked, certain the agent would understand the question.
"Yes, I do."
"Why?"
"My son is 22 years old," Agent Sabatini confided. "I'm gone for months at a time and family means everything to us Italians. I refuse to have a strained relationship with my son, so I make it up to him. However I can. I do whatever it takes."
Giavanna looked the agent in the eyes, who seemed unabashed by the incestuous revelation.
"I think my son has the same desires, to be honest. Jesus, what a fucked up conversation. But I think he'd be interested in something like that, whatever it is."
The agent lifted an eyebrow. "His gaze gives it away, doesn't it? Men have wandering eyes."
"I've seen him looking."
"It's only logical. You have a fantastic body which any male would desire. But now you're in Minnesota, which means you'll have to make the best of your circumstance. Use what you have."
"What does that mean?"
Giavanna knew full well what the insinuation was, but it just seemed so jarring coming from a law enforcement official.
"I think you get the idea," Agent Sabatini bluntly assumed. "I'll go to the store and buy everything you'll need. I don't want anymore fights at home. I don't want to hear anymore drama. Is that understood?"
"Yeah, I understand."
The agent turned the recorder back on and they returned to their trial prep. It was the turning point in Giavanna's life. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders, because for the first time in a long time, she found something that truly excited her.
***
Giavanna stood in front of a mirror in a new set of bra and panties which had been provided to her earlier that morning. As expected, the agent was astute and everything fit Giavanna's body down to the right centimeter.
The set was white and made of lace material. Intricate designs were sewn to form weblike pattern. If you look carefully at her chest, you could faintly see the brown color of her nipples. The same for her panties, if you look close enough you could see the clean shave along with the shape of her clitoris.
After admiring her reflection and enjoying the feel of the expensive fabric, she slipped on an equally comfortable silk robe, which showed most of her legs, going up to her mid-thighs.
Back in Miami, she kept in great shape with plenty of yoga and spin classes with other mob wives and socialites. Like most women there, she prided herself on her fuckability.
She closed her robe tightly at first, before realizing that she needed to show more skin. Coming from Miami, her son certainly had high expectations for what would be considered sexy. She needed to meet those standards, despite the snowfall outside.
So she loosened her robe a bit and let the top open. If she was going to do this, then she had to be disciplined about it. She allowed her chest to show, enough to allow the center of her bra to be visible.
The end result was being the most fuckable mother in the city, and she succeeded in that.
Now it was time for the hard part. Satisfied with her salacious appearance, she left her bedroom and headed barefoot down the stairs towards the kitchen. She could hear the tv on. Her son liked watching tv while eating breakfast at the table.
The moment their eyes met, she knew she had him. She knew her son would fall for this and that Leo would have an easier time transitioning to a new life here. All because of what she could offer.
She watched her son struggle to eat his cereal and she stepped into the kitchen to prepare her breakfast, as if this outfit was perfectly natural.
"Mom," he gasped, putting his spoon down. "What are you wearing?"
"Like it? It's a new set."
Making a point, she twirled around in a circle like a ballerina, causing the hem of the small robe to lift and temporarily show more of her legs. The knot at the center remained firm, keeping the treasures on her chest covered.
He gulped. "It seems... umm... random. It's freezing outside and you're wearing that?"
"Agent Sabatini got me this gift. It was so exotic that I just had to give it a try. It feels fantastic against my skin."
"I bet."
Her son gulped while still looking and so she turned up the heat.
"Every woman deserves the feeling of elegance," Giavanna said. "So I figured, with all the stress I'm going through, why not wear it? I feel like I'm on the verge of a nervous breakdown if I don't do anything to relax."
"Is that why Sabatini bought that for you? Because you're becoming a nervous wreck?"
"I guess so. She knows what I like and what makes me feel good. We're kinda becoming friends, I think. Can you believe that?"
He laughed. "Now that's funny. I thought you hated her."
"We've worked out our differences. Most Italian women find common ground in the end."
"That's cool. You seem happier this morning. You're not as stressed out as the last few days."
Giavanna smiled and rubbed under the cup of her bra and robe, letting her hands slide down to her hips and waist.
"Told ya, expensive lingerie is my best friend," she happily stated while preparing some hot coffee. "Speaking of sexy outfits, meet any ladies at the mall?"
