I was promised her hand, which would have left me to take over her father’s legacy. That, combined with my own father's, would make me the most powerful man in the Syndicate. I suck down the nicotine as my skin tingles. I don’t know if it’s because of the hit from my cigarette or the thought of pulling legs off insects again, reminding me of my childhood, that sweet nostalgia makes me realise she’s just become a whole lot more fun. Breaking her in will be my new game.
I snarl as I think about my childhood, that warm nostalgia replaced with tainted memories, and that makes me angry, the way my brother had all Father’s attention. We’d get back from meetings, and my fatherwould take Vittorio up to his room to spend time with him. While he was training me to be his soldier, he was spending quality time with Vittorio. I was left with the dirty work, and he got the playtime.
I take my final drag of the cigarette, blowing out the smoke as I toss the butt on the floor, stepping over it and leaving it smouldering.
The house, left with a promise that I’ll be back and I will take what’s rightfully mine. Her, the houses, the businesses, all of it. Let her try to stop me.
As I push through the door to the basement, Aldo and Elio’s heads spin around to meet me. Panic relaxes off their faces when they see it’s me. I don’t comment that if I were someone else, they would be dead because they’re fucking useless. I bite my tongue and head to the man tied to the chair in the middle of the room.
“Do you know who I am?” I lean forward, spitting my question at him. His eyes widen, but he nods.
“Then you know if I don’t get what I want, I will end you, and it won’t be fast.”
A tear runs down his cheek, and I grip his face, wiping his tear away with my thumb and bring it to my lips. I suck it off and smirk at him. There’s something about the taste of a victim’s tears that makes me crave more. He stutters a breath.
I turn around and strip my jacket off, tossing it at Elio to hang up for me. I walk over to the chair. I stand with my back to them and undo the buttons on my shirt sleeves.Rolling each sleeve up before gripping the chair and turning, I drag it over to my friend in the middle of the room. I rotate the chair and slide my leg over it, sitting backwards on it in front of him. I rest my forearms on the back of the chair, leaning forward, then slide the gag down from his mouth so it swings around his neck.
“Why did you run?” I finally ask, steepling my fingers.
“I… She… She, she said I could choose. They tied me up. I didn’t want to stay. She said I could go. She said it was okay,” he blurts out. Tears stream down his face. “Please, I just want to go home.”
I reach over. My thick fingers rest against his cheeks, and I run my thumbs over the tears. I groan internally as I bring my thumb to my mouth and suck it. I allow my eyes to close while I savour the taste of despair. It lingers a second. It caresses my tongue. I open my eyes, and his own widen as he stares at me.
“It wasn’t her choice to make,” I inform him. “Now, who killed Alessandro Bianchi?”
“I don’t know. He locked us in the pantry. We were tied up and gagged.”
“Who locked you in?”
“Mr Conti and some of his men.”
“What did they say?” I grip his chin, tugging his gaze to meet mine.
“They didn’t. They just tied us up. Please.”
I rock forward onto two legs and grab his face tighter. I squeeze his cheeks between my fingers and thumb, and I push my fingertips harder, digging my nails into his skin, leaving red marks and crescent indents ofscarlet oozing into the crevices as I snarl. “What do you know?”
“Nothing, I swear, nothing.”
I nod once and stand over him, pulling my gun out from the back of my trousers. I take a step back, lift the weapon and aim. I settle just between the eyes as I pull the trigger.
I turn to the others as I relax my arm, gun swinging by my side. “Stay on her, that fucking house. Bring me something I can fucking use.”
My fiancée will be begging for me sooner rather than later. Until then, I will just have to find a weakness, something I can hold over her. To bring her back into the fold and back to playing the dutiful wife she was only ever destined to be. This uprising is cute, but she will learn her place beneath me. Either she will comply or she will submit. I will not accept this rebellion. She will bow down to me.
Arianna
Chapter Four
The fumbling and scuffling sounds stir through the darkness. The door creaks open, letting a sliver of light into the room. Noises of sloppy kisses fill the air. Groans and panting breaths flood the space. Sounds of fabric being tugged and pulled, as breathing rapidly highlights the sounds with a more desperate tone. The door is kicked shut behind them, and they stumble into the darkness.
I’m sitting in the chair in the corner, and I let the situation in front of me play out. All I can hear are clothes being removed and gasps and groans as they stumble in through the door. There’s a squeal. They trip over the bodyguard as I flick the light on. Followed by a thump as they crash to the floor. Two startled faces dart around the room before settling on me. I chuckle at the sight of them in front of me. The police commissioner, shirtless, lay on the floor with his almost naked date spread across him.
Click, click, click. I snap a few pictures.
She squeals as she tries to dive up off him. Pushing and scrambling off the dead body they have both collapsed upon, she screams again when she sees it.
“Shut her up, or I will.” I point the gun at her. She gasps, snatches her dress off the floor, and clutches it to her chest as if it could save her from me, while staring down at the bodyguard’s mutilated face as he lies in a pool of his own blood.
