AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Now that she is yours, you can with your whore as you wish.” He shrugs, keeping his shoulders suspended upward longer than necessary.
“Mind your fucking words,” I flex my index fingers. That’s my telling I’m about to go for a fight. That and fiddling with the signet ring on it with my thumb. Some have mistaken it for me trying to show power by leading their attention to the ring and reminding them who they are dealing with.
“I don’t tell you how to run your business, Massimo,” he bites back. “Get in line,” he grunts.
“I just put my money here, which makes it my business,” This time I stab at his chest with my index finger. A move, but not enough to make his men sprint into action.
I’m pissed. To me, it doesn't come with the usual simmering heat in the pit of the stomach or that boil in your veins to pounce when someone is putting you off. It starts as a feeling of calm for me. Like snow before the heat.
When I’m mad, I’m calm, I’m calculating, I’m weighing my options. Like I’m doing now. Three men behind me, two beside him and one by the main entrance.
“We should go,” firm hands grab my shoulder and squeeze tight. Claudio is back by my side.
What the fuck is he doing here when she is in the car? The instruction was to get her to safety, damn it.
“Get your ass back to her and take her to fucking safety,” I turn to Claudio and spurt.
It doesn’t come out heavy or angry, but if one scratch should come on her body on his watch, I’m going to fucking tear something down.
“Mass, let it go.” I hear him. I should, but I don’t want to.
All that bottled-up anger of watching each girl step out into the spotlight and imagining the worst fate possible for them is like a block stuck in my chest, suffocating me. I have to find a way to get it out.
“Go to her,” I throw at Claudio, keeping my eyes on the prize, Caruso.
The girl’s safety is partly an excuse to get him out of here. He knows how to get reckless when triggered, and I don’t want casualties, not if he is on the list. I don’t want him dead. I wouldn’t bring any member of my clan to a fight where their upper hand is not guaranteed.
If Claudio stays, it will look like an empire clash. But if it’s just me, it will look like what I want it to look like. A dissatisfied client making a complaint.
“Call me,” Claudio bounces out of the heat to protect her. Call me, meaning, stay alive. Make it out of here.
“Why don’t you back off now,” Caruso scrunches his nose. He looks pissed.
“Make me.” Let it go, Massimo. To start this fight with him could be dangerous for my soldiers, my men. Just a punch and I’ll back out. At least he can blame it on the anger I’m feeling towards his sick way of doing business.
If I had come at him for any other reason, he would have taken the excuse to start a war and attack my empire. But this makes it better.
His men start to close in, and I flex my finger some more, stepping back, and away from the circle they want to round me in. I know better. It’s a trap, I’ve been in more than I can count. The fact that I am in one again only goes to prove that I’ve survived the others. I’m not a regular, but some days just happen to go this way.
The men in the cubicles are about to get an extra show tonight. And that’s on me.
I back up against the wall close to the private exit, staring at six prowling lunatics as they match forward with their psychotic master.
Madness calls to madness.
“You think you’re better than me?” Caruso steps forward. “You should have listened to the first warning,” he comes at me with a punch and I duck, slamming my fist into his ribs and with no need for formalities I sweep him off the floor and throw him against the wall. He slams on it with his head banging against the gold-tiled wall, before dropping to the floor.
They can all come at me like ants to sugar now, I have the person I want and where I want him.
I’m on him, giving him no chance to steady. My fist crashes into the side of his head, and the sharp edge of my signet ring tears his pale skin. Now I have caused a scent better than that obnoxious vanilla he bathed himself in. I’ll take this metallic smell any time of the day, especially when it’s coming from him.
“Fuck!” He growls, staggering back with his hand on the cut to hold back the crimson slipping past his fingers.
His men come at me, all at once. I duck the first punch and the next meets my ribs, as I swing a punch at the man who delivered the first. I maneuver, drop kicks digging the sole of my dress shoe into the neck of the heftiest among them and a fist bump cracking against the face of someone behind.
Thrown bodies thud against cubicles and a punch in my face catches me off guard.
More men start to pour in from the main entrance and help the guests in the cubicles exit to safety.
