She wants her freedom. I understand that. She spent her whole life locked away and abused by her bastard father. My princess is tired of being locked away in a cage.
I told her it won’t be forever, and I meant it. With each passing day, I try and figure out the best way to give her freedom. I need to find a way to keep her, to take her away from the Romano bastards. I need to convince my father to intercede on my behalf with the Romanos. I want her, and I’ll have her. I don’t want war over it. But if it comes to that… That’s what it will have to be. A war. I’m not letting her go.
That’s on my mind as I meet my father in a deserted parking lot on the edge of town. We’re both wearing our usual hit clothing, black trousers with plenty of pockets filled with ammo and black turtlenecks. I have my rifle slung over my shoulder and he’s strapped with two pistols and a shotgun. He grins at me as I climb out of my car.
“You ready for this, son?”
“Of course,” I say. He laughs, clearly excited the way he always is on the eve of a hit.
I have to admit that I’m excited, too. I can feel my darkness roiling inside of my mind, begging to be released. It needs to be fed the blood and begging of my enemies. I know I’ll be feeding it soon. The excitement I feel is almost too much. And it’s her father. He’s caused her so much pain. Of all the men to wind up on my hit list, this one is personal.
“Let’s go over the plan one more time,” my father says, leading me over to his truck. He spreads a map of the city out on the hood and I stand over his shoulder, watching.
“The Don has a poker game every Wednesday night,” he says. “It’s here, on the South Side in some shit rundown deli. He thinks nobody knows about it, but I’ve been staking him out.” I follow my father’s finger as he points to the various locations.
“Okay, so he plays poker. He’s guarded though.” I know he is. Every video feed shows at least three men with him. Men who could turn on me the second the first bullet flies out. I don’t care for shootouts. I prefer a clean hit.
“Right,” he confirms. “That’s where I come in. I’m going to set their cars on fire, here,” he says, pointing. “Once ablaze, they’ll come out. That’s when you shoot him from here.” He points to another spot.
“What’s that?”
“It’s a building across the street. Abandoned, the perfect spot.”
I nod, my face tight. It seems like a decent plan, though I don’t like the uncertainty around the distraction. Still, this sort of thing has worked in the past, and I know I won’t miss the shot.
“Before we do this, I want something,” I say.
He leans back against his truck, raising an eyebrow. “What do you want?”
“The girl,” I say.
He pauses, surprised. “You want that mafia bitch?”
“Yes.” I don’t like that he called her a bitch, but I let that slide. For now, at least. Until I have her, and she’s safe.
“What the fuck for?”
“She’s mine. I’ve grown… attached.”
“Shit,” he says, laughing. “You got pussy whipped.”
I have to keep myself under control. I need his help in convincing the Romanos to let me keep her.
“She’s not a good sex slave,” I say. “The Romanos won’t like her.”
“You did it wrong, then.”
“I didn’t,” I say fiercely. “She’s just stronger than you realize.”
He watches me for a moment, then sighs. “You really want her? You can have her.”
I blink, surprised. I didn’t think he’d give in so easily.
“Okay,” I say. “You’ll help me convince the Romanos?” It was his idea to begin with, and I have faith in my father. He can convince them. I know he can.
“They don’t really give a fuck about her,” he says. “If we pull this hit off, you can have as many Romano sluts as you want.”
I clench my fist but instead of slamming it into his jaw, I just nod. “Good,” I say. “Let’s go then.”
