Steel & Sin

CHAPTER 1

My father is dead.

The empire is mine.

My heels clip against the stone marble floor of the family manor. In the background, beyond the large windows, the jagged peaks of the Bighorn Mountain Range sat ablaze with the colors of the setting sun, casting long shadows and painting the sky with streaks of fiery orange and deep purple.

There is power in every stride, with my men at my back and the rest of them waiting in the Grand Room for my arrival.

Once loyal to my father, they now belong to me, whether they like it or not.

Having a pussy instead of a cock between my legs ever proves to highlight a man’s fragile ego, especially when said woman is the one in charge.

But they’ll bow before me, or they’ll lose their lives. I am my father’s daughter, after all.

I push the doors open hard enough to bang into the console tables set against the back walls, rattling the crystal glasses sitting there and vibrating the framed art on the walls. The men employed as my guards split from behind me to take their stations against the wall.

But the ones around the table do not rise.

Motherfuckers.

I stop dead, sliding my hands into the pockets of my pants. “What is my surname?”

“De Luca,” Rio says from behind me.

“And who was my father?”

“Marco De Luca.”

“And what. Is. He?” I punch out each word.

“Dead.”

Clicking my fingers, I turn over my shoulder and give Rio, my most trusted advisor, a dazzling smile. “Right. Which means?”

“That these fuckers,” Rio flicks his eyes to the men at the table, “Should be standing.”

“And if they do not?” I give my eyes back to the men.

“Then I’ll kill them.” Rio steps closer to my side, reaching behind him, to the waistband of his trousers and his gun. He pulls it out and cocks it, ready for my word.

In the De Luca Manor, the only people allowed weapons are the ones I choose. And since none of these so-called men are to be trusted, they were stripped before they even entered the house. They’ll face a firing squad if I say the word.

Reluctantly, the men at the table stand. I count seven, but there should be eight.

“Where is my uncle?” I lift my chin; his tardiness is a show of disrespect, but I should have seen it coming.

These men were the most loyal to my family, the ones helping with the decisions, dispatching orders. The most trusted, but that trust ended with my father’s death. If they want to remain with the power they have, they’ll need to swear their loyalty to me.

“Right here, Elena,” My uncle’s slimy voice sends a shiver down my spine.

“Anton,” I level my eyes on him, “You’re late.”

He checks the Rolex on his wrist. “So I am.”

I watch him stride with purpose to the table, every man there dipping their head to him in a show of respect.

“Not even an hour in the ground and you’re already showing force,” Anton grins. “I like it, Elena. A little heartless perhaps. Will you not allow us to mourn your father?”

“And did you shed a tear, uncle?” I question, “Or did you rejoice that you’re now one step closer to leading the De Luca line?”

The men around the table shift.

My father’s death was unexpected, a murder actually, but that is neither here nor there and I know my uncle expected me to hand over the throne. Not fucking likely. This is my birthright, my throne, my fucking city and my father handed it to me.

“Ah, but I am not.” His dark eyes intend to be intimidating, but I’ve grown up around this man, I know his tricks.

Sure, to everyone else he’s scary, but I haven’t feared him since I was eleven and I watched him cower to my father.

“You’re here, sweet Elena, and you’re going to live a long, healthy life. ”

I stifle my chuckle. I hear the threat right there. If I’m gone, it’s all his. But I am ready for everything he has to throw at me.

“Well,” I force my shoulders to loosen and give the men my back, something I really don’t want to do but need to.

They need to know I am not afraid of them, and I will not back down.

I head to the console table and pluck a crystal glass from the tray, filling it with whiskey from the decanter, before I turn back to them.

“I didn’t call you here for nothing, gentlemen.

Yes, my father was buried today, but that doesn’t mean everything stops; you should know that. ”

The only sound that follows my words is the clip of my heels on the floor.

I round the table slowly, swirling the amber liquid in my glass as I go until I reach the largest chair at the head of the table.

It’s entirely obnoxious, three times the size of the rest of the chairs, made from African Blackwood and a rich leather that’s expertly cared for three times a week.

It screams arrogance and wealth. I am half tempted to get rid of it myself and replace it with the pink velvet chair I have in my dressing room.

It’s far more comfortable and doesn’t squeak when I sit.

I’m sure every person at this table would throw a fit and that just makes me want to do it more.

“It seems, gentlemen, that my father’s death has meant that our associates believe they do not need to pay their due. We prop them up, but we can just as quickly make them fall.”

“Rossi Enterprises made their deal with your father,” Anton shrugs, like the millions of dollars we are missing is no big deal. “It should come as no surprise that they’ll test their luck now.”

Rossi Enterprises are the ones we helped win over the market, buying most of the ranches out in the sticks to produce meat and dairy.

Their products have completely taken over, lining their pockets, but without my father, they never would have made it.

I don’t particularly care to maintain relationships made before my time, but to blatantly miss on payments owed because they believe the deal is over with that death certificate is just plain stupidness.

I will and can tear them down.

“Perhaps a visit is due,” My uncle suggests, pulling a cigarette from his packet and lighting it. “Remind him of his commitments. It would be wise to reintroduce yourself now.”

For once, I don’t disagree with him. “Arrange it.” I command, “Sooner rather than later, and make sure to let him know there is interest added for every hour he is late on payment.”

“Your wish is my command, Miss De Luca,” Anton adds a flare to his words to match that greasy smile of his.

“Rio,” I call for my right hand to follow and he falls into step beside me.

Once the doors are closed behind me, I turn my face to him, continuing down the hall toward the small den, “I don’t like this.”

“Me either,” He agrees, “They are not loyal, Elena.”

“They will be,” I assure him. “They don’t believe I can be like my father, so I will prove to them I can be more.”

“I believe you,” He sighs, “But keep yourself armed. Your uncle has them wrapped around his finger, one word from him, and they’ll make an attempt. He is next in line, and he wants the city.”

“Well, he can’t have it.” I push the door to the den open and stop. “It’s mine.”

He looks at where I block the door, not allowing him inside.

Sure, we’ve fucked, but I don’t particularly want company from the opposite sex tonight, not when they’ve already pissed me off.

Rio is fine, a little needy but fine, a means to an end when I’ve got an itch to scratch even though I know he wants more.

“No nightcap?” He runs a finger down my arm.

“Not tonight.” I step away from his touch, watching his hand drop and then close the door on his sad little face.

I cross to the oak desk and lower myself into the chair, reaching for the wineglass before I bend and pluck a bottle of white from the fridge beneath.

I love a whiskey, but you can pry my wine from my cold dead hands.

Pouring half a glass, I lean back and stare toward the portrait of my father hanging above the unlit fireplace.

It will remain unused for several more months, since summer has just started.

His grey eyes bore down onto me, so stern, even in death, but I know he’d be in my corner.

He was strict with me. As his only child, he knew what I was coming into and treated me as such. There was little love and a lot of learning. I am what I am because of him.

“To you.” I tip the rim of my glass to his portrait and then take a healthy sip, downing almost half the glass before I bring it away from my lips.

There are things I need to undo, to adjust, to change, and it will come with time.

My main priority is getting a group behind me, where they are loyal to me and not who my father was.

I will never lead successfully with a ghost at my back.

I don’t stop at the one glass, or even two, deciding to finish the entire bottle instead. I buried my father today, dealt with absolute disrespect from the men who swore to my father they’d bend the knee, and now must handle a bratty corporation who owes me money.

One thing you don’t want to do is owe the mafia money.

The sooner I can get this whole shit dealt with, the better. But I am sick of being looked down on because I am a woman.

Which is going to keep happening unless I make a statement, prove a point and come out triumphant.

But Rio is right, there’s something going on that I cannot see. The quicker I figure that out, the better it will be. I’ll deal with the traitors, set a foundation and sit on the throne where I belong.

I’ve no problem spilling some blood along the way. It’s up to them if that blood once belonged to the De Luca family.