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“You Italian, Kent?” I question. Doesn’t look like he has any relatives with a speck of Italian descent.
“Nah, man,” he denies. “Sal and I were schoolmates back in the old days. I was in a real bad bind ten years ago. He helped me out, and in exchange, I came to work for him. Work for you now, I guess.”
Hell will freeze over first, motherfucker.
I don’t voice that thought, or that he must be ignorant to the fact that you cannot be one of us if you were not born with at least an ounce of Italian in your DNA. I could ask if he’s married to someone in Sal’s family, but what would be the point? I don’t plan to keep any of these jokers around much longer.
“How many captains did Santo employ?” Lorenzo speaks up, knowing where I’m going with my line of questioning. I’m impressed. I try to keep him and Sienna out of most business dealings. He comes along when I need heat, so it’s not like Ren is green.
“Four,” the other guy that recognized my name informs us.
“And you are?” Sasha follows suit behind Ren. Her arms are crossed and her legs are spread into a similar stance I’m used to seeing from Krishna, her brother.
“Scotty, or Scott, is fine. Whatever is fine,” he mumbles, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession. I couldn’t tell you if it’s me he’s scared of, or Ren or Sasha. Krishna is standing behind me, silent, and without looking over my shoulder, I know that lethal power he always seems to bring with him is rolling off thick tonight.
I’m about to speak when something scrapes the floor from above us. In the blink of an eye, Krishna and Sasha both pull weapons and aim them in front of us. Another blade slips down the sleeve of Ren’s leather jacket, and now he’s fisting a knife in each hand.
“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk,” I say, shaking my head. “Did you all fail to tell us there was someone else here?”
“It’s just Marco’s whore,” one of the girls sneer, spit flying from her lips. “She’s no one. No one even likes her. She thinks she’s better than the rest of us.”
Then she probably is,I think to myself, but then again, she is here, so fat chance of that. I look to my brother. “Have all the captains here by six tomorrow morning or heads will roll,” I cut my stare to Kent, the one that called himself a captain. “Starting with yours.”
Sasha snickers from my right. “Make it happen, Kent, my man,” Lorenzo orders as I turn my back to them.
“Let’s go introduce ourselves to my newest property, shall we,” I say to Krishna, fire sparking within his crystal gaze as excitement flares within us both. Apparently, Sal was in the trash business, and it’s going to be up to me to clean this place up and hire more respectable people that know how to make money. Worthless whores aren’t going to cut it while I’m in charge.
Once I locate the stairs, I take them two at a time, with K in pursuit behind me, and then we search for the source of the disturbance from a few minutes ago. If there is one positive of this place, it’s that the residence is immaculate. The maid is apparently the only person Sal has hired that is worth a damn. I haven’t seen his finances yet, but I question how he can afford someone this thorough. Even my father’s home isn’t this clean and put together, especially with the new edition in the form of a five-year-old running around the place.
I promised the kid a movie night, so I’ll have to make that up to her once I return to New York. Matteo isn’t going to leave his daughter back home with his orders to follow my sister, so if Brooklyn is coming down south, that means I have to get all the riffraff out of here, stat. I won’t allow our world to crush more of her innocence than her cuntbag of a mother already has. Every now and again, I feel remorse for a few of the lives I’ve taken, but she’ll never be one of them.
Fisting the doorknob, I twist but find that it’s locked, which in turn irritates me. “Open the door, sweet puss.” It’s probably more like skank pussy, but I’m not looking for a fight. I’d rather this one just let me shoo her out the door and be on with her business so that I can get on with mine.
When she doesn’t comply or answer me, I jiggle the knob, and this time when I open my mouth, all the pleasantries have evaporated. “Open the goddamn door, bitch.”
“Move,” Krishna says, before he shoves my shoulder to push me from in front of the door. “I’m not dealing with some little prima donna brat. Kick her ass out and let’s get to killing someone already. I didn’t fly down here for this boring-ass shit.”
He kicks the door with more effort than it needed. It flings open, banging against the wall behind it so hard that it almost drowns out the squeak coming from within the bedroom. Shoving him the same as he did me, I push past him to step over the threshold.
The room is dark except for a table light that adds a warm glow to the spacious bedroom. The window is open. I know this because the sheer curtains are blowing inward and the street noise can be heard from up here. Instantly, I’m annoyed. It’s what I dislike about New York City and this kind of street partying is so much worse. It’s on a completely different level here.
“Free room and board are over. Time to go,” I tell her as I search for the light switch prior to looking for the room’s occupant. Finding it, I flick it on and almost regret the blinding nuisance. It’s florescent instead of a warm ambiance that I’m used to.
After blinking a few times, my eyes land on the girl in the bed with long, red hair, the sheet and covers pulled as far up her body as they’ll reach, just shy of her hiding her head underneath. She’s young; maybe a year or two younger than Si and Sasha, but girl is the wrong term for this one. Everything about her screams that she’s a woman from the big, fuck-me plump lips that look natural to her sultry, emerald eyes. Her locks are curly, reminding me of that cartoon movie Brooklyn made me suffer through not long ago. I paid her back by introducing her to Child’s Play—the original. It didn’t have the same effect on her as it did my siblings, which was refreshing as much as it was disappointing that I can’t scare her the same as I can them.
“Cat got your tongue, mouse?” I ask when she doesn’t speak, only stares, her features a cross between disgust and someone who’s two seconds from cowering in a corner.
“Can I be the cat?” Krishna chimes from over my shoulder.
When she still doesn’t speak, I march to the bed, the thread of my patience having snapped. Her eyes widen a fraction, but her posture remains a statue. I grab the covers, ripping them from her grip and fling them from the bed.
“Is there a reason you didn’t open the door, forcing us to splinter the wood? Do you know how much that’ll cost me to fix, whore?” Fire ignites, changing her pretty greens into a color I’ve never seen before. She doesn’t hide her body language, so I anticipate the palm that flies at my face, catching it midair, and at the same time, I move so fast she doesn’t know what’s happening until I have her out of the bed and on her bare feet with her back to my chest and my arm wrapped around her waist. My grip tightens around her wrist to the point its likely a bit painful, yet she doesn’t utter a sound of discomfort. “Answer the fucking door when—”
“There’s a lock on the outside,” Krishna interjects, telling me she couldn’t open a locked door.
“You must either be Sal or Marco’s prized pussy if they’ve got you under lock and key,” I whisper against the back of her head, the strands of her soft hair tickling my nose. With a quickness I didn’t expect, she rears back, her skull slamming into my mouth.
“You motherfucking bitch.” I shove her off me, only meaning to push her away but she lands on her hands and knees below me instead.
