Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Giana
Spade opened the van door and hopped out to help me.
My scarlet red-bottomed heels clacked against the sidewalk as I climbed out and straightened my outfit.
It was one of the outfits I took when we went back to get some of my things from the mansion.
It wasn’t my style, not anymore, but I viewed it more like a weapon.
Clothes could demand respect or lose it in a second, and today I was going for rich bitch energy.
The white wool pantsuit had slits on the inside of the arms, making it resemble more of a cape.
With the red shoes and Hermes Kelly bag, I looked like I could kill a man with a single look; which was exactly my intention.
Kellan and Spade were each dressed in expensive Italian suits, the perfect match to my ensemble.
I wanted them trembling at the thought of saying no to me.
Despite what I said to Spade, we weren’t robbing the bank. I considered it more to be reclaiming what was mine.
Kellan took my arm as we strode up the few steps to the bank.
Spade kept watch and followed a few paces behind us.
There were a few people finishing up with the tellers, but all three employees did a double-take the moment we walked in.
The man closest to us glanced at his colleagues, his face draining of color as he realized that he’d be the one who had to assist us.
“How can I help you today, Ms. Bardot?” he asked, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.
“I’d like to speak with the bank manager, Mr. Miller.” I smiled, the expression seeming to put him at ease a fraction.
“I’m sorry. He appears to be in a meeting. Can I schedule an appointment?”
“I think we both know how this is going to go,” I said. “Now are you going to get the manager for me? Or are we going to have to do this the hard way?”
He audibly gulped, tugging at the collar of his dress shirt. “I’m sorry, Ms. Bardot, I can’t just let you—”
“The hard way then.” Kellan sighed in disappointment. “Green light,” he murmured the last part in his earpiece.
Before anyone could do anything, Spade pushed through the door, ushering a wave of Demons in behind him while the others spread out to keep watch.
“Out,” Spade growled at the two other customers, who immediately complied, gathering their paperwork and rushing out the door before Spade locked it behind them. As soon as the lock clicked, the masked Demons all unholstered their guns.
“Put your hands up and come out from behind the desk,” I said with a serene smile. I glanced at the nameplate. “This could have gone so much easier, now couldn’t it, Glenn?”
“None for you, Glenn Coco,” Spade said, and I had to swallow the laugh that threatened to burst free.
A hint of a smile played on my lips as I glanced back at him over my shoulder, which only made his Cheshire-like grin grow even wider. I really didn’t peg Spade as a Mean Girls fan, but I guess you learn something new every day.
“W-what?” Glenn sputtered, following his coworkers out from the desk. Glenn wasn’t a Mean Girls fan. I’m honestly not surprised by that.
Kellan and a few other Demons stormed the hall, gathering all the other employees from their offices, including the manager, Mr. Miller.
His face paled as he locked eyes with me, his Adam’s apple bobbing just like Glenn’s had.
“My reputation must precede me,” I preened, stalking toward my prey. Miller’s stomach protruded from his too-tight belt, his beige suit jacket barely large enough to cover him.
His thick mustache quivered as he tried and failed to conceal his fear. “Ms. Bardot.”
“Good.” I pushed him back with a palm to his chest, and he nearly toppled over.
He caught himself just in time, his glassy eyes pleading with me.
“Sorry about all the dramatics, but I’m sure you’ll understand I’m a busy woman, and when your man Glenn refused to fit me into your schedule, I had to insist.”
Miller shot Glenn a baleful look, apparently regaining some of his composure. “I’m sorry for the trouble. My door is always open to you.”
“Good, let’s head to your office then.” I nodded to Kellan, who spun Miller around, his gun pressed into the man’s back as he led him back to the office with his name etched into the gold placard on the door.
“Cellphones in the bag.” Spade’s order echoed from behind me as I followed Kellan. Good. We didn’t need any of them alerting the cops or the Barones.
“Is the gun really necessary?” Miller whimpered.
“Yes,” I said simply. Now that we had the guns out, there was no way I was going to have the guys put them away. In the split second it took to pull them back out, he could trigger a silent alarm, and this would all be for nothing.
He opened the door with a trembling hand, and Kellan ushered him in first. His office was far more opulent than you’d imagine for a small-town bank manager.
His massive oak desk was far too big for the medium-sized office.
Top-of-the-line Italian leather chairs sat on either side, with a marble bust displayed in the corner along with a few pieces of priceless artwork.
I sneered as I glanced around, knowing exactly who had provided him with the luxurious fixtures.
He was firmly under Angelo’s thumb after all.
“Stay back from the desk,” Kellan ordered as Miller took his seat, and he nearly plowed into the bookshelves behind him in his rush to comply.
“W-what is it I can help you with?” Miller stuttered, placing his hands in his lap awkwardly as though he wasn’t sure what to do with them.
Kellan stood beside him, keeping the gun trained on the manager as he pinned him with a menacing glare.
“I’d like to make a withdrawal, of course.” I placed my bag on the desk and leaned back, propping my red-bottomed heels on the varnished wood.
“A—a withdrawal?” His furry eyebrows crept closer together.
“Yes.” I rolled my eyes. “A withdrawal from my joint account. You know, the one you allowed Tommaso to dump all my savings into even though he wasn’t on my personal account.”
He blanched, glancing around the room nervously as he pulled on the collar of his too-tight shirt. “I—I—”
“I don’t need your excuses.” I slid my feet off the desk so I could lean across it. “Since I’m on the account, the money in there is mine now since Tommaso is dead.”
“I can’t,” he wheezed. “Angelo will kill me.”
“He might.” I shrugged. “But if you don’t do what I’m asking, there’s a hundred percent chance Kellan will put a bullet between your eyes. Isn’t there, babe?”
“Oh, definitely.” He grinned, the glint of delight shining in his eyes that he always tried to hide. He placed the barrel against the man’s temple. “My trigger finger is just itching to press—”
“Okay,” Miller interrupted, tremors shaking his entire body. “I’ll do it; just make it look convincing when we’re through.”
“Maybe.” I shrugged, relaxing back in my chair. I wouldn’t do that. Miller deserved everything he had coming to him, and if Angelo took care of him, that would be one less thing off my plate. “How much can you give me in cash today?”
“T-today?” His eyes widened.
“This whole repeating my words back to me bit is getting tiring.” I pinned him with a glare.
“T-the bank only keeps so much on hand.”
“And how much is that?”
“I can’t give you everything.” Spittle sprayed from his mouth, and I lost the shred of patience I was clinging to.
I opened my bag and pulled one of the daggers out.
I was across the room in a flash, the tip of the blade pressing into his throat before he could even yelp.
“I told you, you’re going to do what I say; otherwise I won’t give you a quick, clean death; I’ll carve you until this pretty white pantsuit is stained crimson. Do you understand?”
He tried and failed to halt his trembling, but with all his shaking he managed to nick himself. The tip glided through the flesh beautifully, his blood rolling down his skin and soaking into the collar of his white shirt. I pulled it away a fraction, letting him speak.
“Whatever you say.” His lower lip trembled. “I’ll do whatever you say.”
“Good.” I smiled, wiping the drop of blood from my knife onto his shirt. “Was that so hard?”
“N-no,” he answered my rhetorical question. “We keep five hundred thousand on hand in the vault at any time. We’ve only had a few customers come in today, so the total should be just under that.”
I nodded. “Good, get me the number you have in the vault and bag it up for me. Big bills only.”
He looked stricken for a moment, but he didn’t argue this time. “Do you want to call the front, or do you want me to go out there?”
“I’ll dial.” I pulled the phone closer and input the extension for the phones behind the front desk.
“You’ve reached East Haven Bank; this is Spade speaking.” Spade’s chipper tone rang through the speaker, and I couldn’t hold back my snort of laughter.
“Put the phone on speaker, babe. Miller is going to instruct Glenn and the others to bag up the money in the vault for us.”
“Have I ever told you how skilled a negotiator you are?” He chuckled.
“Never.”
“Well, it looks like I have some making up to do,” he drawled. “My sugar needs to know how exceptional she is at absolutely everything.”
“We’re kind of on a time crunch, Spade,” Kellan huffed in annoyance.
“He’s just mad he didn’t get to say it first. But, fine spoilsport, I’ll put it on speaker.”
Kellan glared at the phone but said nothing as Miller directed the employees to bag up the cash in the vault. “Let me know what the total is so I can deduct it from Ms. Bardot’s accounts.”