Page 6

Amelia---Snakes in the Den

I glance around the room, scanning the men in front of me. I take in the bodies, my hands shoved into my leather jacket pockets. Duncan had called a meeting and now I stand before every last man who had sworn loyalty to the Conte Family. Normally, my meetings took place with only the Capos and Duncan, but I don’t want a single person to misunderstand where I stand. I command every last soul sworn to my legacy, no matter their rank.

I keep my voice low, instilling the power of my bloodline into it.

“Let me be clear. Alonzo Medina has no place in my city, in my territory, or in taking my men. You swore fealty to this Family—to me—and I will hold you to that. I don’t play well with others trying to take what is mine.” I grab my blade from the back pocket of my pants and flick it open. I glance down, the smallest smile appearing as I run my thumb along the blade. I am fond of this one. The handle is pale blue and inlaid with mother-of-pearl, the blade sharper than a surgeon’s scalpel. It was a gift from my father on my seventeenth birthday.

My eyes snap back up.

“I’ve heard a rumor that there are some of you in this room that don’t believe I’m your Regina . That you don’t regard me as the head of this Outfit.” I tilt my head, considering each face before me. “Tell me, who of you dares to deflect?” I ask, shifting my stance as I wait.

Someone steps forward, a Capo bold enough to speak. His hair is unkempt, the clothes baggy on his frame despite the evident potbelly.

“Amelia, I don’t know who you are talking about. Every man here is bound to the Family.” A flash of color is beside me as Duncan pins the man to the ground. His gun is now shoved under the Capo’s chin.

“Do you refer to your Capo as ‘Amelia’?” The pinned man tries to squirm under Duncan’s grip before Duncan strengthens his hold. “Uh-uh. Try again.”

I shift my weight again, my hip cocked as I notice the men watching grow restless.

“Boss,” the man struggles to say as Duncan refuses to yield. “I don’t have a single man who wishes to deflect. We swore to you. We still bear the promise.”

“Let him go, Duncan.”

Duncan moves, releasing the poor excuse of a man, and straightens his sleeves. The Capo spins, starting to scurry to the crowd.

“I didn’t dismiss you, did I?” I step forward and grab the back of his neck, placing my blade under his jaw. “No, I don’t think I did.”

“No, Boss. You did not,” Duncan confirms as my eyes dart to his side.

“It seems to me that you’ve forgotten the hand that feeds you, hmm?” I pull the Capo’s head back further, resting it on my shoulder. I run the flat of my knife along his skin and watch the goosebumps raise. “I am the reason you breathe, the reason you have food on the table. But, it appears that my generosity is not appreciated.”

Tightening my grip on his hair, I move my knife just under the lobe of his ear and increase the pressure. I see someone try and move closer in an attempt to stay my hand. I slightly nick the skin at the Capo’s ear, watching the trickle of blood rivet down his neck as I smell a stench permeate the air.

“I would not move if I were you,” Duncan warns and the motion halts. He moves to the front of my vision and our eyes meet. “Look at that,” he tsks, “what kind of Capo pisses himself in the presence of his leader?”

My voice is quiet so that only the man in my grasp will hear what I say next.

“Allow me to remind you that I am the one you take orders from, not him. Perhaps the next time you think you know best, a look in the mirror will refresh your brain that you do not.” As I slice up behind his ear, Duncan grabs the man and holds him captive so I can pull the cartilage away from his skull. Screaming hits the air and my pulse rushes. A final pass where steel meets skin and I toss the ear to the ground as Duncan releases him.

I wipe the blood on my jeans and return my gaze to the rest of the men as the Capo falls to his knees in the crowd. It looks like I have their attention now.

“You serve me . You are my men. My soldiers.” Hushed voices sweep the men, several of them clearly at odds with what just happened. I could not care less. “Need I remind you what happens to those who stray?”

The men shake their heads, and I nod at Duncan, effectively dismissing them. After the last one leaves, I spin on my heel and beeline to my office. I open the heavy wooden door and hear it close behind me as Duncan slips in. I grab a rag from the basket on my bookshelf.

“Where is Medina?” I settle back into my chair, methodically cleaning my blade, ensuring not a speck of the transgression is left, as Duncan approaches. He’s one of the few men I trust. Actually, he’s the only man I trust.

I should have known.

I shouldn’t have been so stupid. Fucking stupid.

“You okay, Ames?” I shake my head, refusing to slip into the past.

“Of course. Just trying to get home so I can curl up on my couch.”

“Ames.” I glance up at his tone. I hate when Duncan tries to force me to talk about my feelings. Feelings could get me killed in this business and I really enjoy being on this side of the dirt. The truth is that I am tired. I am tired of being told how to do my job, tired of being viewed as a piece of flesh, tired of just trying to keep my own damn demons away.

“Duncan,” I parrot back, smirking at his scowl. Parker was really lucky he was married to her, he annoyed the fuck out of me sometimes. “I’m fine. Promise.”

It didn’t help that he’d seen me at my lowest. Duncan had been in my life for almost as long as Parker. He’d been there the day I had been abused, cleaning me up while I shook from the adrenaline coursing through my veins, my body very much in fight or flight. And now, he’s my second. The son of a Capo, Duncan knows the inner workings of my organization nearly as intimately as I do.

“Parker mentioned that she was dropping off Chinese and then something about sour candies being picked up too?” He smirks, waiting for my response. We both knew that I would find a carry-out bag on my doorstep, filled with lo mein and spring rolls.

“Of course she did. She’s too good for me, Duncan.”

“She’s too good for the both of us.”

I meet his eyes and slouch in my chair. Distractions get you killed in this life and I need to know where the asshole I am currently hunting is.

“Medina?”

Duncan crosses the room before dipping into the green velvet chair in front of my desk. I pull one leg up to rest my foot on the seat of my chair and drape my arm on it, waiting for him to respond.

“Alonzo was last seen two weeks ago. There haven’t been any reports of him being within our territory, but I don’t trust it. A few others seem wary of him as well; there are increased inquiries into running trades with us instead of him.” He pauses, gauging my reaction. “I did hear a rumor of him meeting with Denaro but Denaro claims it was a one-sided conversation.”

I spin my knife between my fingers, contemplating what Duncan just said. The Mafia is a fickle thing, built much like a house of cards in a tornado. One single misstep and it all crumbles. Tossing the blade onto my desk, I rub my hand along my lips. I don’t have much of a move unless Medina strikes first; making the first move means declaring war and I’d much rather declare him finished instead.

“What does Seamus say?” I watch him. Seamus is Parker’s uncle and the head of the Irish Mob. There is a bit of bad blood there as Parker had renounced her claim to any ties with the O’Donnelly Family when she married Duncan. “Has Medina approached him?”

“No. Seamus has been quiet.”

“I will not deal in skin, Duncan.” My voice is lethal, a mere whisper. “It will not touch this city. I will wage war before that happens.”

The Families typically operate under one of three veins of income: skin, drugs, or weapons. Of the six, O’Donnelly and Sidorov are the other leaders who deal in weapons. All other Families are involved in the movement and selling of drugs or of skin. Denaro and Allegeri are drug runners, fueling epidemics in their territories. Medina is the only one involved in more sinister things.

“We’ll find him, Ames. He can’t hide forever.”

I stand, turning my back to Duncan, and run my fingers along the spines of the tomes sitting stoically. I stop at a picture of my dad and me in this very room. I couldn’t be more than nine, barely old enough to start understanding the darkness in my life. I’m wearing a dress I’m sure I hated and my father has his hand on my shoulder, a power move to remind me to behave. There is no joy reflected back to me, just duty. Obligation. A shiver runs down my spine as I feel the disappointment of my father sink in. Taking a deep breath, I straighten.

“No one crosses our border. I want every man questioned.” I turn slowly to face Duncan, who is now standing and waiting for the command.

“Find him.”