Security, my ass.
If I can’t handle scumbags like Salvatore on my own, nobody will take me seriously, including my own brothers. They won’t see me as a leader. And they sure as hell won’t give me my own territory when the time comes.
People who delegate the hard shit don’t command respect. And if you’re trying to claw your way to the top of the food chain, delegating equates to weakness.
Weakness will get you eaten alive.
So I ignore Ray’s furious knocking and duck down and around Salvatore’s next punch. His fist pummels the sheetrock wall instead, leaving my nose and jaw still intact. He lets out a sharp groan, clutching his bloody fist. Spittle flies out of the corners of his mouth, his breaths morphing into angry pants.
I could kill him.
But I don’t.
I know there’s only one reason why he’s here tonight.
Revenge.
He figured I’d be an easy target since Matteo is away.
That I wouldn’t have enough backup to take him and his thug crew on.
He didn’t count on the fact that I am my own muscle and that my sole priority right now is making sure the kingdom we’ve built is strong enough to withstand assholes like Sallyboy and his gang of fucknuts.
I thought about putting a bullet between his eyes, but then I’d never find out why he’s really here.
It’s not because of Zoe’s pussy, that’s for damn sure.
Matteo has his fair share of enemies, and they’re always lurking, angling to find a crack in the foundation of our empire.
They will search tirelessly, but they’ll never find one.
And just to make sure Salvatore’s guys get the message, too, I think I need to show them that their searches will come up empty. That while this empire is in my hands, it won’t ever fucking crumble.
Salvatore fists his hand, wincing as he clenches his scratched knuckles.
“Looks like it hurts,” I say in a mocking voice. “Maybe you shoulda sent someone else in here, someone who can actually make contact with something other than the wall.”
That pisses him off and he launches a fist out at me again.
But when that big body of his loses balance, I yank the back of his collar, pulling him back toward me. I want to make sure he hears this next part before his ears go up in flames.
Literally.
I grab the jagged piece of the candle holder and fist his hair, singeing the bottom of his ear with the flickering wick. “You cross me again and I’ll make sure you’re incinerated, not just a little seared, do you understand me?”
He roars as he leaps toward me, shoving me into an end table. It tips over with me on top of it, hitting the nearby wall. A lamp crashes against the floor along with a tube of lube, a pair of handcuffs, and a flogger.
“Looks like you thought you were gonna have some fucking night before I showed up and blew up your plans, huh?” I smirk as I regain my footing, jumping off the table and inching toward him. I drop the candle, stepping on the wick with the heel of my shoe. “Haven’t had enough yet, have ya? You still want more, Sallyboy? Come and fucking get it!”
Another guttural yell pierces the air, and this time when he swings his fist out, I grab it, twisting it backward. Now he’s really crying like the bitch I always knew he was. “You feel that?” I hiss at him. “That’s how your wrist feels when it’s about to break.” I twist harder, my grip tight on his hand. “So unless you want me to take the next step and snap the goddamn thing off, why don’t you tell me why you’re here and who you’re working with?”
“Fuck you!” he yells.
“Oh, yeah?” I scream back.
Good God, I want to crack it so badly. I want to prove to him that he can’t screw me over, that I’m just as strong, if not stronger, as the rest of my family, and if he doesn’t give me what I want, that I’ll cut out his tongue, too.
“You owe me!” he screams. “And you’re gonna pay!”
“You didn’t deliver,” I seethe against his ear. “So, no, I’m not paying you a fucking cent!” I press his wrist farther back against his forearm so that the top of his fingers are practically kissing it.
“Then Zoe ain’t the only one who’s gonna be violated tonight,” he growls.
My eyes widen, my teeth clenched tight as I snap his wrist, shoving him face-first into the cold floor tiles before I open the door to the room.
The screaming isn’t a big deal.
There are plenty of other, way more disturbing sounds floating into the hallway from other closed doors in the vicinity. I’m sure nobody gave Salvatore’s screeches a second thought. Risk is an exclusive sex den, so nothing really raises eyebrows, especially sounds of pain.
Ray comes into the room and glares at Salvatore writhing on the floor. He then looks up at me, his forehead pinched. He lets out a deep breath, shaking his head. “You should have let me in sooner.”
“I had to handle things with Salvatore,” I say, sweeping a hand through my hair.
“That’s the thing. Salvatore isn’t the problem. He’s the distraction.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Ray?”
“You know the shipment of blow that was delivered this afternoon and locked up in the storage room below the club?” Ray’s lips press together into a tight line. “I just got confirmation from Johnny. The lock was sliced off. The blow is gone.” His eyes narrow as they fall upon Salvatore. “And so is Zoe.”
Chapter Two
Marchella
“Why are you so fidgety?” I ask my older brother Frankie as I smooth my hair back into a ponytail. “You’re going to wear out the rug from all of your pacing. And since I just vacuumed, it would have been nice for you to take off your damn shoes first!”
“Sorry,” he grumbles, raking a hand through his wavy, dark hair. With a nod toward the rug, he shrugs his shoulders. “Not like the vacuuming helps anyway.”
I purse my lips. “That’s hardly my fault. And just so we’re clear, I’m working endless hours at the restaurant to make sure there’s still carpet under our feet.” With a raised eyebrow, I glower at Frankie. “What about you, hmm? Did you collect any money this week?”
Frankie’s nostrils flare. “You know, Chella, I’m doing the best I can!”
“Really?” I fold my arms over my chest. “Because I haven’t seen a freaking penny from you in the past two weeks! You do know that rent is due at the end of the month, right? Or are you just counting on me to save us? Again!” Anger bubbles deep in my chest, threatening to boil over for about the tenth time today.
“Stop being such a fucking nag!” he thunders. “Do you realize how much stress I’m under right now? No! You don’t! And you want to know why? Because you’re too busy being a goddamn martyr!”
I gasp, my eyes widening. “Did you seriously just…call me…holy shit, Frankie,” I mutter, shaking my head. “Do you realize if it wasn’t for me that we’d be on the street? Hungry? Homeless? Possibly dead?” I clench my fists, my voice rising. “I had plans, too! Did you know that? Did you even care? Do you think I wanted to give up my dreams to move into this shit-ass apartment in one of the worst areas in the city? Do you think I have any desire to live in this fucking hell?” I stomp toward him, stopping directly in front of him. “No!” I scream at the top of my lungs. “I didn’t! But here I am!”