She rolls her eyes. “Jesus, Annie Oakley. You could have just called down to us and we would have stopped him. Now we’re going to have to have someone clean up that mess.” She waves at the pool of blood under his knee.
“I didn’t know if there was another exit,” I reason, not wanting to tell her that I really wanted to put a bullet through the rapist’s dick so I compromised with his knee. His screams have died down to groans of agony that are still music to my ears.
Leaning down, I pat his shoulder as he whimpers and moans. “Jesus, Ed, you sound like a girl. Grow a set of balls, man.” When his eyes meet mine, I see anger in them, and I smirk. “See you tomorrow,Eddie.” Standing up, I deliberately kick him in the dick before stepping over him. Phil, who hasn’t shown emotion all day, smirks momentarily before leaning against the wall without saying a word.
“They shouldn’t take too long to come and get him,” Aunt Carla begins. “Mickey said he’d send someone right away. Once done, get this mess cleaned up and send the girls home for the night. Make sure Misty is seen by a doctor and give her a few days off. Put a closed for the night sign on the door and then take the rest of the night off. We’re all having dinner and staying at the Lucky Diamond tonight, so we won’t be going anywhere else. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Sure thing. Nice to meet you, Ms. Russo,” he says, and I look at Carla with mock shock on my face.
“He speaks.”
He smirks, and she laughs. “Come on, let’s go scare the crap out of Joe and Bill, and then I can show you another part of your legacy.”
I follow behind her, still pulling on one of my ears, trying to get the ringing to stop. You would think that I would be having some existential crisis about shooting a man, but I’m surprised at how easy it was. Yeah, the fact that he was a rapist scumbag helped, so there’s no remorse or guilt either. I don’t think I’ll look too closely at that. If I do, there’s a good chance I’ll climb into my bed, pull up the pillows, and not come back out. Psychopath was not really what I was trying to achieve with my life, but it looks like it’s going to be a good fit.
* * *
The Lucky Diamond Hotel and Casino is classy as fuck, and once I’m introduced to the staff, I’m treated with respect and admiration despite my young age.
Dinner is being held in Aces High, one of the hotel restaurants that seems to have an international menu—if the meals on some of the tables we pass are anything to go by. Carla and I are the last to arrive after she gave me a tour of the facilities. I’m in awe of the operation, but my favorite part was the security room. I could see everything that was going on down on the floor, it was fascinating. That was our last stop. Before that we were on the casino floor, watching the action going on at the various tables. The sounds of the slots were dizzying, ringing as people put in coin after coin, trying to win big.
She took me into the cage and introduced me to a few of the cashiers on duty, then explained about the various vaults that the casino’s money is stored in. Thank God Carla manages all of those, because that was mind-boggling and information overload. She then showed me the swimming pool, recreation area, and spa before showing me some of the hotel rooms. I was ready for dinner once we were done. My feet were killing me in my new heels, and I just wanted to get off them, even for a moment.
Once the hostess shows us to the table, I see a few people I don’t recognize, but all the men stand except for Uncle Lorenzo. Lorenzo looks furious, and he scowls at the both of us after we’ve been greeted by the rest of the family and I’m introduced to the others around the table.
“My princess, don’t you look lovely. Carla, you have done a marvelous job with my girl. You are to be commended, she looks perfect,” Dad praises as he holds me at arm’s length, admiring my outfit.
“Ah, it was easy, she’s gorgeous,” my aunt replies as she gives Mickey a kiss on the cheek.
“What the fuck did you do to my manager?” Lorenzo demands as Carla takes a seat next to her husband.
“I didn’t do anything.” Carla smirks, and everyone looks at me.
I sit down between Dad and Gio, shake out my napkin, and place it on my lap before reaching for a glass of water. I slowly toe off my shoes, hoping the relief I feel doesn’t show on my face, and suppress the shudder that wants to roll through me.
Lorenzo gets impatient and growls at me. “Tori?” He thinks he’s intimidating, but I just think he’s pathetic. If he allows his managers to take liberties like that, I worry about what the whores under his control are going through.
“He was trying to get away,” I tell him, looking him dead in the eye.
“So you shot him?” he spits out, and Dad raises his eyebrows in surprise.
I look at Mickey, and he’s smirking. I guess he hasn’t told Dad what happened. “I don’t like rapists,” I tell my dad’s brother, and he flinches at whatever he sees in my eyes. Dad and Gio stiffen up on either side of me.
“You can’t rape strippers and whores,” he retorts, so I reach around and flip up my jacket, going for my gun, but a hand on mine has me breaking my stare down with him and looking at my dad, whose hand stopped mine. He shakes his head, and I release the grip, reaching for the steak knife at my place setting and running a finger along the serrated edge. I want to put it into his dick, but I think blood would be frowned on at the table, and he’s too far away. Lorenzo grins at me smugly, and I grind my teeth before putting down the knife and picking up my glass of wine, emptying it in one go.
“You know my rules,” Dad tells Lorenzo. “If you can’t follow them, then maybe I need to find someone else to run your branch and you can take a silent role in the organization.” Dad says it calmly while reaching for his own glass of wine, but I see Lorenzo flinch again for a second time, and I’m thinking there was more to Dad’s statement than what was on the surface.
“Come now, no business talk.” Uncle Mickey changes the subject with a jovial smile on his face, not quite meeting his eyes. “This is a celebration.”
“What exactly are we celebrating?” my stepmother asks, and I hear a slight slur to her words, so I’m guessing that cocktail in her hand is not her first.
“Why, Tori taking her rightful place, of course.”
She scowls at his reply, as does Lorenzo, but everyone else raises their glass when Mickey does.
“To the mafia princess,” he jokes, and everyone chimes in. Dad squeezes my knee in affection and looks pleased as the server comes to take our orders.
ChapterTwenty
