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“Sir?”
“Come in.” Opening the door, he squares his shoulders.
“Yes, sir?”
“Call them in.” He looks at me in the mirror, and I nod. Giulio has been with me long enough to know exactly what I'm planning.“They need to fear what’s going to happen.”
It’s all I say, and he nods, dismissing himself. There is still blood on my hands, my arms, and even spatters on my face. I run my hand through my longer black hair, one single piece falling and hitting my forehead.
At that moment, I think about Emelia. I want to slip into our bed tonight and fuck her lazily as she slowly wakes and then lets me fuck her right back into slumber. I don’t care if we are in the middle of a faceoff with one another. I crave her cunt. Her thick body. Her goddamn taste. All of her.
My phone dings, and I check the messages from Giulio.
Giulio
They’re ready, sir.
Putting my phone back in my pocket, I crack my neck, look at my green eyes that resemble my father’s, and remember what legacy I’m carrying on. Slamming my hand against the light switch, I leave for my conference room. As I step out of my office and into the hall, Giulio follows behind me.
No one else but my men are allowed up here. No dancers, no security for the club, just made men. And when we reach the door, I take another deep breath, trying to keep my composure. Being calm is my strength. In fact, it's my greatest scare tactic.
Opening the door, I see them all sitting, their heads turning toward me. You could hear a pin drop, and you nearly do. The room is soundproof, so the music, dancers, and patrons can’t be heard.
“Stand. All of you.”
They all rush to their feet. I stare at a dozen of my closest men and eye them over one by fucking one. I will spot it. It takes just a look to sense deception. All I need is one shift of the eyes when we lock for me to tell there’s a snake in my house. But not one moves. They all look back at me, heads high and chests out like they were trained to do, and I stand at the head of the table.
“You see this blood? Do you know who it belonged to?” I pose the questions, placing my knuckles on the mahogany wood and leaning forward.
“Levetti,” Jeremiah says, and I look over to him and smirk.
“Correct. Tell me how you know that, Jeremiah?” Walking to him, I grab the back of his neck hard and slam his cheek to the table. He doesn’t fight me, which is in his best interest. I know Jeremiah, and I know he isn’t an enemy. My father and his were close friends. But I have to set an example.
No one is safe.
I don’t care what connection we’ve had in the past or what loyalty they’ve once shown.
No one is safe if you cross me.
“He's the only one not here, sir.”
I keep his head down and look at the other men. They kill for me every day. Fear isn't something that often comes over them, or shock for that matter, but I can see it building in them now. Harshly, I let him go, and he rises slowly, massaging the back of his neck.
“What happens when you cross me?” I look to the next person, Danny. Moving to him, I punch his stomach hard, and he grunts, bending over and letting out a wheezy cough.
“We cross you, and we leave in a body bag,” he croaks, struggling to get some of the words out after the sudden impact.
“Good job.” I pat his back.
This time, I really need to drive it home. They need to remember who I am.
Moving to Giulio, I look him in the eye before removing my gun from its holster. Flipping off the safety, I place it right between his eyes.
“Who has immunity from me, Giulio?”
Without a bat of his lashes, he speaks.“No one, sir.”
I make a show of pulling back the slide of my gun, checking to make sure a bullet is chambered, and then closing it with a loud click before putting it to his forehead again. This time, he blinks and swallows.
