EXCERPT
"What do you want?" My heart beat rapidly, the resonating sound of the gun as he cocked it and aimed it at me crippled me with fear.
He bent his knees, scooping to my level.
"I have nothing on me. I'm not anyone..."
A hearty laughter vibrated through the room, the way his curved cheekbones distorted while he laughed would have made me less of who I was.
"Oh, darling..you are not just anyone."
"And who are you?" My attempts to divert the situation may have been falling miserably. No one should know that I'm the daughter of a ruthless and wicked man.
The mouth of the pistol rested on my head, the aura that he carried engaged me with nothing but fear.
"Nicholas Genovese..head of the Genovese crime family. Nice to meet you...wife. ' Prologue
Nicholas Genovese
"Don, we got something.'' Ronnie entered my office like a man whose soles were on fire. "A package has been delivered at the gates.''
The last time I heard that my quarters were almost blown to bits. With a frown on my face, I bring my fingers toward my temples and massage gently. Frustration washes over me as I stare at Ronnie.
"Pardon my intrusion boss..'' he slightly bowed his head, and for a moment, the only thought in my mind is putting a bullet between his eyes. Yet, I can't get rid of another underboss, especially while the number of trustworthy members decreases painfully.
My cigar dances on my fingers and the rays of the yellow sun in the open curtains in my office illuminate, Ronnie; whose head was still bowed, remains quiet. I set the cigar among the ashes, rising from my chair with a pained expression.
"Have you run it through?''
"Yes boss, the microscopic residue does not appear to be lethal. The boys, however, are yet to open it.
My heart thuds quickly as I walk past him. Outside my office, my men stand in protective stances, each assigned to his designated area of duty. The aroma coming from downstairs makes me stare at my watch with impatience.
" let this not be a waste of my time.''
"Of course, not Don, I inspected it personally and confirmed the urgency." An uncomfortable silence rests between us for a few minutes. I love the tension. Making friends with my men was the last thing on my to-do list. Friendships are weaknesses.
"Right here.'' he points towards the open doors, bunked in an orderly manner are
three of my most trusted soldiers safeguarding what I would assume was the package.
My eyes dance around the compound. It has become a natural habit of mine to assess the possible dangers before walking into any situation. It becomes second nature. As the don, everything I do reflects the Legacy that I will leave for the mafia family that I run.
When I took over this position from my father, I did what was most unexpected and opposed. I gave my brothers part of the territories that I was supposed to Rule and left myself with a big chunk of an even greater City. I remain the king of New York, while each of my brothers manages Chicago and Milwaukee for me.
My father had always wanted the territories to only be ruled by one person to signify unity. But then, trusting that Louis and Vincent will do a great job is a showcase of unity at most. It has been 13 years now, and everything still runs smoothly.
As I approached the box, I can't help but notice the petal flower pattern that is painted over the wrap. A brown envelope sits on top of the package, my fingers clutch both sides of the box as I pick it up, measuring the weight as something tangled on the inside. A reasonable amount of weight, yet still questionable. Countless people want to see me dead. I have made a thousand enemies and I intend on making ten thousand more. My mind runs with a handful of ideas as to what will be inside this box.
I have done my fair share of evil and wickedness to the people who have crossed my path, yet sending presents in boxes is a much more old-fashioned way of the
mafia families.
Will it be rats, threats, or an even longer letter detailing how Bad Frankie planned to bring me down?
Ridiculous. It's pathetic that Frankie would even think there's a way possible to threaten me or keep me on my toes. I have faced much worse than him. I have slaughtered much more convincing foes. I have blown up allies in the name of business, and taken down government stations for leisure.
I have remained the most feared and powerful man only because I kept my eye on the prize and nowhere else.
Nothing has shaken or deterred me. Nothing will.
I pick up the envelope at the top of the package, and my fingers trail over the glue holding it shut. Bringing it to my face, I smell scented vanilla's distinct yet frail smell. Pulling up the note inside it, my eyebrows crunch at the message.
"Walk away or try harder''
There was a signature at the bottom of the envelope, 'bad Frankie
The rivalry between Frankie Fraser and our family has existed for as long as I could remember. He remains one of the few mafia Kings that personally knew my dad before rivalry finally struck. Now he's the man who has been trying through thick and thin to take my territory and throw me out of business. there must be a sick joke or an effortless threat lying inside this box.
For some reason, I could not ignore the overwhelming uneasiness that rested inside me as I opened the package.
My men curled protectively around me. My fingers caressed the hard top of the box as I opened it. The beating of my heart only accelerated.
As a precaution, I specifically hired a bomb expert for this type of situation. Ronnie, my underboss, happened to fit perfectly in that criteria. Now, anything that enters my territory is first inspected and scanned.
Dirty brown hair was the first thing I saw. I took a step closer, my eyes fell inside the box fully. At that moment, everything I had built came crumbling before my eyes. My stomach churned, my eyes widened and my fingers clasped the box harder.
I fought my body against the instinct to step back. Sudden memories flush my empty mind, my blood runs cold, then, as if impossible, hardened and boiled with rage.
Inside the perfectly wrapped box; was my brother's savored head.