Chapter 2 Make Me Your Villain
Make Me Your Villain
The clock ticks loudly as I sit back, watching the men squirm in their seats.
Everything I had in the folders now strewn across the table for them to see.
A few men grabbed a couple pages, trying to hide them.
Others clutching them in rage. The bones in their closets were out for all to see.
They were all fucking over the other. It’s almost comical.
Curione slumps dead in his seat, mouth slack as blood drips to the floor.
A few tap their fingers on the table, sweating as they flash their eyes to me or Jameson.
On the outside, I sit calmly, but on the inside, I’m trying not to hyperventilate as seconds tick by.
Hate and wrath coil inside me, but so does anxiety.
I couldn’t care less about any of the men at this table, but it’s what may happen before the hour is up that I worry.
My hand runs over the boning of my corset, wondering what Leo will decide.
I had been prepared for either choice, until I killed Curione.
The doors open and everyone jolts in their seats. Most look fearful when they see its Owen, who walks silently towards me and leans down near my ear.
“All their men have been detained. Keep them in the garage?”
“Any word?”
“No.”
“Then yes. Easier to round-up.” The last bit I say a bit louder. “Send in more guards if you could. Just in case.”
Owen nods, walking out of the room. Not long after, the doors open again and in walks Michael with three other bodyguards. Two on each side of the room, keeping their guns casually in front of them.
“This is preposterous,” Rossi mutters under his breath.
“Don’t like being held hostage?” I ask.
“The disrespect! We are the most powerful men in the city—”
“And yet, a woman has you by the balls.” I tilt my head.
“Exactly, you are just some woman Luciano fucks—”
“Shut up, Enzo,” Finstrum interjects, fuming. “If you know what’s good for you…keep your mouth shut, pedophile.”
Rossi’s eyes widen. “These photos are fake! She’s lying—!”
“Shall I show the videos instead?” He better say no because I won’t keep anything down.
Finstrum snarls, shutting Rossi up as DeLuca watches them silently.
All the men at the table, including his own underboss, slightly move back from Rossi, giving looks of disgust. Rossi goes red, gaping at them and tries to stand, as if to attack me, but Michael quickly shoves him back down into his seat and points his gun at the man’s temple.
“Orders, ma’am?” Michael asks.
I almost smile. Yeah, he’s growing on me.
Finstrum speaks before me, “As much of a disgusting piece of shit he is, isn’t one dead boss enough for today?”
“No.” My answer is prompt. All the men at the table shift in their seats. “Unless you’re saying that because you want to pull the trigger.”
Finstrum and I make eye contact. I don’t flinch, refusing to break the stare with the older man. His jaw tightens. Caught him. I say, “I would let you, but I’m not stupid enough to give you a gun.”
He eases back, folding his hands in his lap. “Kill him yourself then. If you won’t give me that dignity in defending my daughter’s honor, kill him. As a woman—”
“What do you fucking know about being a woman?” I practically sneer. He quiets, but his jaw remains set.
We stare down the other, and I know he’s trying to call my bluff as I just did with him— who has the balls to shoot Rossi? Or he wants to see how serious I am about not caring who lives or dies in here.
“What do you think, Sombra?” I ask quietly, glancing back.
“Already changed plans, why not have the bonus of less paperwork?” Jameson’s answer is low, surprising me.
Part of me expected him to tell me to ‘calm down’ or wait for Leo. I look back, meeting his stony gaze, and realize he’s testing me, too.
What is it with men and pissing contests?
“So, just kill him?”
His face shows no signs of emotion. Mine toil inside me as I stare at Leo’s best friend, consigliere, and co-founder of the Forgotten Demons.
He said he’d follow me, but to what end?
Killing Curione, a newer boss and one who actually pointed a gun at Leo, was one thing.
Killing Rossi? Even being a piece of shit, his death would cause a different ruckus.
If I don’t, my whole threat to them may dissolve.
If I do…I’m cementing something I’m not sure of yet, but the anxiety ticking at the back of my neck is telling me no. Wait.
I’ve already fucked up my original plans by killing Curione, adding another body will complicate things if Leo doesn’t show.
Not to mention…something is off. The look in Jameson’s eye, similar to when he scrutinized me at the warehouse. Perhaps he’s waiting to see if I’ll snap like Leo or run screaming. Like he’s asking: Can you actually play boss?
I look to Isaac, who tries to appear calm, but his eyes yell worry.
“Pull his chair back, Michael,” I instruct. He does, and Rossi goes to fight, but the gun against his head makes him freeze. “Turn him toward me. Good, now step back.”
Michael steps aside, and the three behind him, try to move further away. Rossi glares at me, gripping his armrests as his chest rises heavily. Distress flashes as he glances at the gun I grab. Finstrum starts to smile in satisfaction, along with DeLuca.
“My people will come after you, unlike Massimo I have loyal people,” he says.
“Not if I send them those pictures, the tapes, the cooked books…” his face falls, “…what? You think I’d have given you any respect after death? I’ll make sure your wife knows first, so she can burn everything you’ve touched. Give her a chance to spit upon your ashes.”
“You fucking whore.”
I aim and fire.
He howls, clutching his groin where blood spills. Thank goodness he was sitting to my right side, and I’m not a terrible shot to miss shooting his dick.
A bit of gratification trickles over me as he cries. That was cathartic.
All the men, mine or not, stare in horror as a few adjust their pants. Death is easy, but losing your cock? Well, that’s a different nightmare.
“Satisfied?” I ask Finstrum, leaning back.
He gulps, staring at Rossi who groans and almost falls out of his chair. “For now.”
I check the clock. Ten minutes left. Fuck.
DeLuca follows my gaze, and more sweat forms on his brow. Not only could I blackmail them now, but I could take their dicks, too. For these men, that’s far scarier than death.
I put the gun down, going the route of appearing bored as the others become more restless. Rossi continues to whimper, holding onto what’s left of his junk as I push down the want to hurl. My spine tightens, anxiety yanking at me as I feel sick. Little longer. Keep it together, Autumn.
I start to go over every detail on how to handle this if Leo doesn’t show.
I have a dead man now, and another who’s bleeding from his groin, who could die from that alone.
I could shove all the men into another room, distract the feds with Castor 2.
0 and the information I have on them. Let them focus on the big fish like Finstrum.
My stomach twists as the clock ticks. Or I really could just shoot them.
Handle the aftermath differently. Start over.
Oh, fuck, I’m losing it if I’m thinking of killing all the men at this table.
I start to worry what Leo decided, wondering if he really did take the plane. Yet, I hope he did and got the fuck out of here. No…he needs to decide. Finish them if you have to.
“What if we made a deal?” Finstrum breaks the quiet. “I’m sure we can…give you whatever you want.”
“You have nothing I want.” I frown deeply. “What I do want, you conspired to take from me. If I must, I will do the same with you.”
“What happens if Luciano doesn’t show?” DeLuca asks. Finstrum soon adds in his own commentary on mafia uprisings, territories, etc.
I ignore his ‘villain end speech’, looking to Isaac. He opens the door barely, closing it with a shake of his head.
Shit.
I hope Chiari is ready for the hotel to be swarmed by police or help sink bodies into the Hudson. Did Chesty say he knew a pig farm up north?
“…besides, having a woman in charge doesn’t seem appropriate.”
Finstrum’s words bring me back.
I raise a brow, and he holds his hands up. “You’ve shown you’re…capable, Mrs. Luciano, but handling businesses take another skill. We could help provide you more money and power.”
A smile forms on my face.
“We understand how serious you are,” DeLuca adds, gesturing towards Curione, almost cautiously. The woman from years ago, left for dead, is cackling inside as these men practically beg me. “Even if you’ve broken rules to—”
“I don’t give a fuck about rules, especially when they’ve been catered towards weak, sadistic men,” I practically hiss.
DeLuca clears his throat.
“If my husband doesn’t walk through that door soon…” I flick my gaze to the clock, then back at the table of mobsters, “…you’ll play by my rules. Since you all seem so keen in breaking the ones you’ve made for your own greed.”
I meet Finstrum’s gaze, flicking them at Rossi next.
The gun is back in my hand, and all their eyes are glued to it. Sweat drips down their temples. I glare at the damning photos across the table.
“How does it feel knowing you’re caught?
” I ask in a rasped voice. “No way out? Like rats in a cage? Your money won’t save you.
Your choices have condemned you. All those skeletons out for the world to see?
” I grab the final folder, tossing it and the papers scatter over the table.
“I will use your secrets to hang you from the Washington Bridge.”
Possessive wrath builds inside me, it flourishes through my veins after years of shoving it down. The pain. The fear. The fury. I let it all consume me as the clock ticks. No one gave me mercy when I begged.
“You can try to come for me when the clock stops ticking, but know that I will run circles around you, because you all need to learn that there is nothing you should fear more than a woman with years of rage in her.”
The room goes cold. Every man frozen. Even Rossi doesn’t make a sound as he stares in horror, holding tightly to what I took.
My gaze flicks to the clock. Two minutes.
He’s not coming.
He left.
I straighten myself, preparing myself for the next steps. I tell Jameson, “Ve a buscar a la senorita Pierozzi, por favor.”
He clears his throat, nods once and goes to the door. He disappears into the hall.
One minute.
I breathe in deep, focusing on the pressure of the corset.
“Mrs. Luciano,” Finstrum tries again.
I ignore him, nodding at Isaac to come over. A guard takes his spot near the door, and he comes over for me to give him the gun I didn’t fire. The other remains in my hand, oddly not feeling heavy like the one I shot years ago. My chest wants to cave in.
No point dragging this on. Chiari will be up soon, and I need to make my next move.
I’m about to speak, when there’s loud voices outside the room, and the doors burst open. Ringer steps in first, and then Enigma. They move to the side as Jameson appears, and then finally…
“Gentlemen, it appears you’ve angered my wife.”