The apartment is pretty clean.
Mostly because the previous owner always hires people to clean up after every little “date night.”
“My family all lives together, so it’s not convenient bringing you home.
Honestly, I’ve never brought a woman back there anyway.
You can stay here for now.
And if anybody gives you trouble around here, just say you’re with the Corleone family.
Nobody will touch you after that.”
“Okay.”
The woman quietly looks around the apartment.
It’s spacious, somewhat stylish—well, stylish-ish—and spotless.
Fredo Corleone finds a spare key and hands it to her.
“Here.
You can stay here for the time being.
Anyway, I should get going.”
She takes the key… then suddenly grabs his hand, speaking softly.
“Can you stay with me tonight?”
…Oh?
Girl, are you actually serious right now?
Even Fredo’s brain short-circuits for a second.
Only when he feels the slight trembling in her hand does he realize how nervous she really is.
Looking at her gorgeous face, he laughs helplessly at himself.
“I’m really not a good guy, you know that?
You’re playing with fire here.”
As if she’s finally made up her mind, she suddenly throws herself into his arms.
Fredo’s brain completely freezes.
The lights are still on!
Jesus Christ.
I always turn the lights off before this stuff!
…Well.
Guess this is happening now.
And yeah… those curves are absolutely insane.
Just like that, two people who still don’t even know each other’s names somehow become “friends” after surviving a major ordeal together.
The night passes quietly.
Well… not exactly quietly.
At some point she keeps saying things that sound suspiciously like, “Oh… yes…”
For roughly two straight hours.
By the end of it, her voice is practically hoarse.
The next morning.
Corleone family villa.
Fredo originally plans to tell Tom about last night—especially the whole corpse-disposal situation—and ask him to help clean up the car properly in case anything gets overlooked.
Unfortunately, Tom isn’t around.
He’s already in California handling Johnny Fontane’s situation.
Which means Fredo can only go find his favorite big guy: Uncle Peter.
At the moment, Peter is supervising a couple men while they clean the car.
“Thanks for the help, Uncle.”
“Relax, kid.
You handle it well.
Even if somebody finds out, it’s no big deal.
Two human traffickers die—who’s gonna care?” Peter waves it off casually.
“Swap out the front bumper, clean things up a little, and it’s fine.
Back in the day, me and your father—”
While his men work, Peter happily rambles beside Fredo like an old war veteran reliving glory days.
Since it’s not Paulie—the future rat—handling this, Fredo isn’t too worried, so he just lets Peter keep talking.
A moment later, Rocco finally appears.
He jogs over, notices Peter chatting with Fredo, and wisely stays quiet.
Not long after, Paulie comes running over saying Don Corleone wants to see Peter.
He still looks disappointed.
After all, finding someone in the Corleone family actually willing to listen to his stories is basically impossible.
Sonny and Mikey sure as hell won’t sit through it.
“We’ll continue the story about me and your father another day.
I better go see your old man.”
“Sounds good, Uncle.
We’ll talk again later.”
Peter pats Fredo on the shoulder with satisfaction, and Fredo answers with an honest grin.
Watching Peter leave, Fredo turns toward Rocco.
“So?
What’s the situation?”
Rocco immediately reports, “Mikey’s guys are already watching them.
Both teams are still tailing Barzini.”
Fredo thinks for a moment before speaking.
“Go tell Mikey to organize all the information neatly, then pull everyone back.
I want both teams at the countryside house this afternoon.”
“Got it.”
Rocco leaves immediately.
Fredo narrows his eyes slightly.
Barzini.
“Boss, the car’s done,” one of the younger guys says after finishing the cleanup.
“Appreciate it.
Here, go grab yourself some drinks.”
Fredo casually hands him two hundred dollars.
“Th-this… thank you, boss!”
The young guy hesitates at first, but after Fredo pats his shoulder and nods encouragingly, he gratefully accepts the cash.
Being a low-level mob soldier isn’t easy.
Follow the boss for three days and you starve for nine meals.
…Okay, maybe not that bad.
Walking back into the villa, Fredo runs into his mother and immediately puts on his smooth-talking act.
“My beautiful ever lasting mother, I probably won’t be home for dinner tonight.”
She rolls her eyes at him but still can’t help worrying.
“And where are you running off to this time?
Can’t you settle down for once instead of fooling around every other day?”
Fredo quickly defends himself.
“I’m innocent!
I haven’t even been out partying lately.
If I can make it back tonight, I’ll try to come home for dinner.”
Then he immediately escapes toward the door.
“Be careful!
And stop fooling around with random women already.
You’re not getting any younger, you should—”
Even after leaving the villa, his mother nagging still echoes behind him.
Man… parents really do worry forever.
Fredo gets into the car and drives toward the apartment from last night.
Thinking about that woman alone is enough to mess with his concentration.
Even after surviving years of internet bombardment from influencers and celebrities in his previous life, Monica still leaves him completely distracted.
At the apartment complex, he walks up to the door and opens it.
The moment it opens, a warm body practically launches at him.
Her legs wrap around his waist, arms around his neck, and those outrageous curves smash straight into his chest.
Caught completely off guard, Fredo instinctively supports her thighs and asks gently,
“What’s wrong?”
She sniffles softly, her voice still hoarse.
“When I woke up and didn’t see you there… I thought you left.
Where did you go?”
“This morning you were sleeping like the dead.
I couldn’t wake you up, so I left you a note and breakfast.”
She blinks those huge Disney-princess eyes and puffs out her lips.
“Oh… that’s because after last night… I didn’t notice the note.”
Fredo glances sideways.
Sure enough, the breakfast is untouched, and the note under it hasn’t even been seen.
“See?
If you’d looked at the food for even one second, you would’ve found the note.”
She stares at him innocently.
Honestly, hard to believe this is the same woman who acts that bold last night.
Did Giuseppe Garibaldi personally lend you courage or something?
Fredo lightly pats her soft cheek.
“Alright, go wash up.
Otherwise you’re the one who’s gonna suffer later.”
The moment she hears that, she instantly understands.
Her face changes dramatically, and she jumps off him at record speed before rushing to the bathroom.
Heh.
Women.
“Click…”
Fredo lights a cigarette while quietly thinking about what exactly he’s supposed to do with this woman now.
If I…
And if she…
And if we…
…
Well.
Since things already turn out like this, then let’s just leave it like this.
Whatever happens, happens.
Fredo also makes an unexpected discovery:
[Physique: Lv2 (33/49)] increases by 2 points.
And today he doesn’t train, box, or exercise at all.
Last night… two straight hours…
Watching the woman washing up inside, Fredo suddenly realizes something.
Wait.
Don’t tell me…
…That counts too?
A little later, the woman walks back out after cleaning up.
Almost immediately, her stomach growls loudly in protest.
Fredo laughs helplessly.
“Look at you.
You skipped breakfast completely.
Eat something first so your stomach has something in it.
We’ll go out for a proper meal afterward.”
Looking embarrassed, she softly answers, “Oh…”
Then she quietly picks up some bread and milk, sits beside him, and starts eating slowly.
Watching the beautiful woman eat beside him, Fredo suddenly feels that having a woman around actually isn’t so bad.
Especially when she’s this ridiculously gorgeous.
At the very least, she’s nice to look at.
Brightens the room.
Makes life feel easier on the eyes.
About 0.003 seconds later, Fredo snaps back to reality and suddenly laughs at himself.
“…The hell is wrong with me?”
Shout out to drierquip64 for becoming my P Knight, my cats eat fish tonight.
but no worries, i’m already setting the chapters with schedule, and for that period of time i couldn’t reply your comments.