Chapter Seventeen #2
I take a minute to muse over my coffee while I toss around ideas on how to start getting to know Vittorio.
How to bring us together. I want to be a queen.
I want to be unstoppable and ruthless. But I also want someone who will back me.
I want something unconditional. I know I need him.
I just don’t want to admit that just yet.
I push the stool back and slide my cup across the counter.
I will contemplate everything Marianne has said, but now I need to take back my family legacy and destroy the Syndicate.
I just wonder how on board Vittorio will really be when he hears my plans.
Luca and Matteo are waiting by the car as I make my way through the door and down the steps towards them.
I wearily eye each of them. Matteo seems to find his fingernails extremely interesting.
Imagine how interesting they’d be if we actually fucked.
I haven’t seen Vittorio. I’m assuming he’s either locked himself in his room, or he’s with the other woman, or would I be the other woman?
I sigh and head to the car. I slide in, and Luca sits beside me.
I make no issue that it’s normally Luca that drives, and maybe the tension isn’t all in my mind.
But I tell Matteo where we’re going, and we head down the driveway.
The drive to the office is silent, and when we pull up outside, Luca climbs out and Matteo opens my door for me.
As I step out of the vehicle, I glare up at him.
“We good?” He nods. “Can you still do your job?” He nods once. I don’t linger, I don’t make this anymore awkward than it is. I’m still a little sore and tight from the crash, and my bruised neck I wear like a badge of honour.
My low-cut blouse skims over my breasts, leaving the expanse of my chest on show.
The fingerprints etched into my skin, black, purple, green, like a necklace, linger.
My black trouser suit is neat and pressed, my gun tucked into the waistband; feeling the coolness of it gives me a calming sensation.
I would never enter the viper’s den unarmed.
I also have a smaller gun secured at my ankle, hidden under the fabric of my trousers.
I know they’ll find the gun when I’m searched on entry, the machine will pick it up as I walk through the metal detector, I’ll hand it in like a good little girl and then stride off with my little secret strapped to my ankle.
As I enter the lift, Matteo and Luca step in behind me, and we all turn to face the front.
The awful music echoes around, and the lift bings on every floor.
If I didn’t want to murder everyone before I got in here, I do now.
This is excruciating. The door slides open, and Luca and Matteo step out, look both ways, and then Luca turns to me and nods.
I step out onto the floor and head down the corridor to the conference room.
They hold this meeting every month, and this is the first one since my father’s death.
As I push into the room, they’re all in there. Well, except the Costas. They sit like brooding assholes. Their faces a mix of resentment and disgust as I enter and take my father’s seat.
“This is a private meeting,” Massimo spits at me.
There’s no love lost between us. Bellino is sitting to his left, and although his face remains stoic, his eyes reveal what he truly thinks about me.
I know if anyone else is going to come for me, it will be him.
I need to make peace with Vittorio and find out everything I can.
I look around the table at the other men and their sons.
My father brought me here on occasion, if mother was at one of her spa retreats, or when she’d died if the staff were too busy.
I think he brought me here to flaunt me, to parade me like a show pony.
To dangle in front of the fives families, dressing me up like a Stepford wife in the making.
The perfect little baby maker, making me look just pretty enough to spark a little interest here and there from the sons and enough for the men to see me grow into something they’d want for their sons.
But knowing my father, he would have traded me to one of them as a wife, I’m sure of it.
As long as it got him what he wanted. But I never had a seat at the table.
The men brought their sons to every meeting.
I had to sit outside and watch. The sons were made to leave towards the end when, I’m assuming, certain things were spoken about that even they weren’t privy to hear, but they were included. I never was.
“I’m aware, and as the newest member of the syndicate, I would appreciate your transparency.”
Massimo barks out a laugh. “Member. Transparency.” He laughs again. “You.” He points. “Are not a member. You are not welcome here.”
“You will never be a member,” Mateo Mancini spits.
“Once Lorenzo and his sons arrive, you will need to be gone so we can start this meeting.”
“Oh.” I rub my neck. “You haven’t heard?” I smirk. “The Costas, they won’t be attending.” I stand, resting my knuckles on the table as I lean forward. “Who put the order out? Who made the call?”
I stare them down. Enzo De Luca looks confused. Mateo Mancini’s eyes dart, but him, Massimo Ricci, his eyes bore into mine unflinching; he fucking knew. Gotcha, motherfucker.
“Massimo, that’s very unsportsmanlike of you. I thought we had a deal?”
“Pfft. Deal? You think I’m going to allow you to take a space at this table?
We,” he barks out, “run this city. We have for decades. You will never take a seat at this table.” I glance at Bellino, and there’s a fire that sparks in his eyes, a note, a promise—he’s coming for me, and it will be brutal.
I rise, standing fully, and rest my hands on my hips.
“So, gentlemen. I’m assuming that no matter how I turn all this around, you still won’t accept me?”
“Ahh, now she gets it,” Massimo scoffs, and the others smirk and nod to each other.
“I don’t want a seat at your table, Massimo.
” He smiles, he honestly fucking smiles, and the others look smug as I survey them all.
“I have no intention of joining your little boys’ club.
You don’t see me as an ally, a partner. As someone who’s an asset, useful or that I have my own connections to make something great.
You see a little girl. Something you don’t have to deal with—a gnat, inconsequential.
Well, I have news for you all. You’ve just made the biggest mistake of your careers.
No, I don’t want a seat. I won’t accept one.
I won’t take it. But I will take the whole fucking table. ”
I stride towards the door, turning as I crack it open. “Good luck, gentlemen. May the odds be ever in your favour.” I step through, letting it click shut behind me, and stride down the corridor.
Luca and Matteo fall into step with me as I reach the lift.
I press the button. When the doors slide open, I step inside, and we make our way down to the lobby.
As we stride out, the phone rings, but I keep walking.
I know they’re sending the messages that I’m not welcome anymore, but I don’t give a fuck.
I’m gonna take it all and destroy every one of the fuckers who get in my way.
Underestimate me, and I will make you regret it.
Once we’re back in the car. I let out a breath, and Matteo drives us back to the house. I’m so wound up. Everything is on high alert. I need to do something to ease this fucking tension.
I don’t talk the whole ride home, but neither do the boys, although Matteo keeps watching me, his eyes keep flicking to mine as I stare out of the window.
I can feel his gaze on me. I can see the frown etched across his brow.
His eyes flicking to the road and back to me.
Luca is surveying everything. He’s doing his checks.
Watching outside the vehicle, checking to make sure we’re not being followed, that there are no dangers heading towards us.
I wouldn’t put it past Massimo to send Bellino after me, and I know he’d take great pleasure in tearing me apart. Literally, the man is a beast. His reputation precedes him. He was the kind of kid who pulled the legs off spiders and ripped the wings off butterflies just to watch them squirm.
We pull up at the house, and I climb straight out. I don’t wait for either of them to open the door. I stomp up the driveway and straight into the house. I hear footsteps behind me, but I know it’s Matteo. I can sense him near.
I stalk through the room and out through the back into the swimming pool area.
I start undressing. Tossing my jacket on the lounger.
I don’t turn. I don’t look to see if he’s still there.
I know he is. I toss my gun down and remove my trousers.
They pool around my boots, and I lean over, removing the other gun.
I add that to the pile before undoing the zips and kicking them to the side.
I rip my blouse over my head. Leaving me in my pants and bra.
I stride towards the pool and dive. When I break clear of the water, my arm arcs over my head, and I take a breath as my legs kick furiously, breaking into front crawl.
My arms cut through the water as I cup my hands, dragging myself along behind them.
The cold of the water bites into my skin.
It sparks against it. Making me feel like I’m alive.
It cools the rage inside me. It soothes something in me as I cut through the water.
I reach the end, flip, push off the side, kicking hard before I break the surface.
I take a breath and let the whole day wash off me.
Concentrating on only me and the water, I breathe. I swim.