~The Ace~
"Get rid of it," I say, and they waste no time scurrying toward his body.
My hands are still pressed to the table as I close my eyes for a moment and let out a frustrated sigh.
The bastard already had it coming for quite a while.
He'd gotten too comfortable around me—started to forget his place and bite the hand that fed him. My hand, to be exact.
The only reason I was still trying to tolerate him was because he was the one in charge of distributing our 'powder' in the city. He had a way of coaxing them into buying it.
But when he just wouldn't shut up about getting rid of that Castell, the little tolerance I had left for him snapped.
The business hasn't even been moving lately—not that it ever did—so he was as good as useless anyway.
Another sigh escapes me as I open my eyes and keep them fixed on the table in front of me, hoping that if I stare hard enough, it'll sort out the chaos that's been rumbling in my head.
But it doesn't.
She's still there—tied up and kneeling behind me like some kind of peace offering fate just tossed back into my lap after all these years.
And it's fucking. Messing with me.
She's messing with me.
I'd never even seen her face before, didn't know her name or if she even existed until I got the news of what she did.
And now… after all these years… I catch just a glimpse of her face and I can't fucking think straight anymore.
'What kind of madness is this?'
The emotions stirring within me because of her; the flicker of something—anything—that resembles attraction is foreign, and it's fucking unwelcome.
I can't let distractions like this get to me. I can't let a lady's face undo all the control I've spent years building, especially not the face of the same person who cost me everything.
'Get a grip, Rafe. She's not the first woman you've dealt with.'
'You've seen and dealt with lots of hot ladies over the years and none of them has ever elicited such emotions from you. So get your shit together and make sure she doesn't become the first.'
Taking a deep breath, I let it out just as fast before attempting to speak.
"The ten million euros you stole," I start, finally breaking the silence. "What did you do with it?"
Silence.
She doesn't answer and I clench my jaw in frustration. Propping myself off the table, I turn around to face her with my arms crossed over my chest.
Even though she's not even looking up at me, that strange mix of emotions I'm trying so damn hard to suppress only seems to grow stronger.
"I'm not one to repeat myself, Ca-steal," I say, keeping my voice flat.
She still doesn't answer, let alone shift her gaze from the ground. A bored sigh escapes me as I lazily slide my pistol off the table. "Do I really have to use my gun every time?" I mutter under my breath, making sure my aim is a little close to her left ear before pulling the trigger to scare her.
And as usual, it works.
As soon as the bullet whizzes past her ear, she yells, jerking her head up to glare at me with those fiery but beautiful eyes.
"Is it stealing if it's already been stolen?" she finally replies, raising her voice with barely contained fury. "We both know not even a cent of that money truly belonged to you or your family."
I stare at her, taken aback by her response but at the same time, amused by it.
Kneeling before me—after all this time—is the lady who made me humiliated in front of my entire family. And it didn't just stop there but she cost me my position as the new Don of the family.
The worst part is, I've got a gun in my hand, loaded with more than enough bullets to finish her off once and for all, but I'm not even pointing it at her—let alone pulling the trigger.
Why?
Instead, all I can think about is how badly I fucking want to see her writhe and scream beneath me as I dig the barrel of the gun so deeply into that pussy of hers.
'Fuck, I need help.'
The raging fire in her stormy gray eyes is so impossible to miss. The bruise on her forehead and the slash on her cheek tell me that Luciano's men must have really put up a fight with her.
A small smirk tugs at the corner of my lips—one that I can't help—as I think about how feisty and daring she is to have killed Luciano and his men.
It certainly won't take long before his brother—Enzo, one of the few who helped me settle in Naples—finds her.
And when he does, it's either I release her to die…
Or I keep her and potentially start a gang war.
Pushing myself off the table, I take slow steps toward where she's kneeling and crouch in front of her with one knee on the ground. Her refusal to meet my eyes only makes this more entertaining.
"Tell me what you smell in this room."
I notice the way she hesitates, her eyebrows scrunching up in confusion and I let out a sigh when I realize she's not going to answer again.
So, I place the tip of the gun beneath her chin—seeing as that's the only way she'll talk—and tilt her face to look at me.
The inferno in her eyes doesn't seem to fade as she glares at me for a moment before muttering, "Gunpowder. Whiskey. Sweat, and a whole lot of disgusting piss."
"Hm," I hum, giving a curt nod at her reply. "You have a very good sense of smell."
I shift on my feet for a moment before I continue. "Back in Rome, I barely got a whiff of any of that. It was mostly the smell of colognes that were strong enough to suffocate and resuscitate you at the same time. And then, the crisp scent of freshly minted money."
"But, ever since I got delegated here because of your actions," I pause, pressing the barrel deeper into her skin until I hear her breath catch—just slightly. "It's just been the stench of this filthy city."
I stay silent, keeping my gaze fixed on her for a while before speaking up again. "Now, I'm not a man of many words. I mostly rely on my gun to do the talking—and well, you've seen what I can do with it." I shift my gaze briefly to the floor, where Antonio's blood still pools, before fixing my eyes on her again.
"There are so many reasons why I should shoot you right now and be done with it," I continue, my voice dangerously low. "You obviously already know what most of them are. But for now… I won't. You know why? It's because you're going to work for me and pay back every damn cent you stole from me two years ago."
Her gaze never wavers from mine and suddenly, I start to find myself staring at her lips. They're not even moving! They're just there. Quiet, and here I am, shamelessly staring at them.
'Fuck! The things I want to do to you, Ca-steal.' I groan inwardly.
Shaking it off, I continue. "Now, Luciano's elder brother won't take the death of your 'ex-boyfriend' very lightly and your presence here threatens the partnership I have with him."
"So, here's what we're going to do: You'll work for me until I say your debt's paid. No excuses. And, I'll protect you from him until your job is done."
I watch as her throat bobs—such a stupid thing to fixate on—but I swear, I can feel the blood rushing to my cock.
"But, if you even dare to think about running away again…"
I let my words trail off as I finally stand to my feet and place the tip of the gun to her head, barely breaking eye contact with her. "I'll make sure that's the last thought that ever crosses your mind."
Silence hangs in the air between us for quite a while before I break it again.
"Capisce… ?"
Her glare is intense, but she manages to give a small, hesitant nod. After another beat of silence, she responds, the word barely making it out of her mouth.
"Capisce."
Removing my gun from her head, I tuck it in my jeans behind my back and start to walk past her to leave the old gambling den we're in.
"Good. Now, stop trying to reach for that little butter knife you've got hidden in your boots," I tell her, letting a small smirk tug at my lips.
"Even if you grab it, it's useless. Those ropes won't budge for a toy like that."