MELISSA
The sound of my boots clicking on the marble floor reverberated through the hallway as I walked toward the mafia's administration hall. I could hear their voices already, engaged in a heated argument. I couldn't blame them - these days, many mafia groups are facing numerous issues.
It was a usual occurrence for the daughter of the Capo De Capi to enter the room without bothering to knock. All eyes in the room, regardless, turned towards me.
"Father." I acknowledged the white-haired man who was on his feet, his arms resting on the long table.
"Where have you been?" He asked in a grave tone.
Swallowing hard, I stepped forward, ignoring the tingling feeling their intense gazes inflicted on me.
"Finding ways to help us through these hard times, Father," I stated solemnly with a straight face.
Father looked away from my gaze, his jaw flexing.
"And what have you gotten?" He asked through gritted teeth.
"One of our most prominent buyers has declined our supplies. Said they'd rather 'the Grants grant them'."
"FUCK!" I flinched as Father's voice boomed.
"That is NOT a solution to our problems!" He remarked. I could hear his voice reeking with rage.
"Forgive me, Father," I muttered, my head bent as dejection welled in me.
"Since the emergence of The Grants Mafia group, our deals and transactions have dropped drastically. We're losing our respect in the underworld and our allies are cutting ties with us. Why?" He asked, spreading his arms apart. "Because they're fucking scared of the motherfucking Grants!" He barked. I fiddled with my fingers, feeling the tension in the room rise.
"There's no doubt, someone needs to confront the Grants and show them their place." Nicholas, Father's consigliere pointed out.
"Yeah but everyone who's tried is all fucking dead!" one of the underbosses, Cade said.
"I'll do it." I declared, the words coming out sharp. Silence descended in the room as all gazes were once again turned to me.
I paused, thinking I would reprimand myself for my outburst. But I still felt cool, so I continued.
"I will bring the Grants down by taking out Vincenzo Grant myself." I maintained.
Father's gaze lingered on me, probably contemplating the odds of what I was suggesting.
"I don't mean to judge, boss but Melissa would get wiped out if she does this. Other gangsters with more experience have failed."
"My daughter is not one of those gangsters." Father retorted sharply. Hope.
"Do you have any reluctance in you?" Father asked. I shook my head.
"Good. Now go and show them what the Hitlers are made of." He said while folding his arms. Adrenaline rushed into me and I adjusted my posture.
"I will."
…
"You won't!" Devon said in a shrill tone.
"I can and I will." I retorted, adjusting my position as I readied myself for another shot.
"Come on, Melissa. You can't possibly think you can take down the Grants all alone." Devon said, still trying to cajole me to rethink my decision.
"Why not?"
"Because you're a fucking…" he cut himself off. My head turned to him, glaring coldly.
"A what? Say it!" I barked.
"I'm sorry," I mumbled.
"All my life I've tried to do something that would at least make him smile at me for once. I plan on taking my chance at it this time." I said as I felt a sad feeling clawing at my heart.
"You don't have to put yourself in death's reach to do that," Devon said solemnly.
I looked away from him, resuming my position. One click of the trigger and I hit bullseye.
"I guess death will one day catch us all." I grabbed my bag, swung it over my shoulder, and walked out of the yard.
"Wait," Devon called from behind but I didn't stop.
He made it beside me as I continued walking. "Where are you going now?"
"To kill Vincenzo Grant, I have to make inquiries about him. I need to know where he'll be and why he'll be there." I told him as we turned by a corridor.
"Where will you get that information? The dude's like a famous ghost." He was right, Vincenzo Grant was very popular in the underworld yet, no one knows a shit about him. He even wears a mask all the time so his identity is unknown.
"Well, I happen to know someone who knows someone who can get that information for me." A smirk curled up my lips, I turned to Devon.
"No!" He shrieked, shaking his head. "Not!"
"Come on cousin. Don't worry, I'll do the talking." I said, placing my hand on his shoulder. It's not like a highly skilled female spy would hurt him, she'll be given a job to do.
He sighed, "Alright, I'll get a location for you to meet. But. You. Do. The. Talking." He made his terms clear. I nodded.
"Don't worry, I won't tell her about your fantasies," I whispered into his ear before entering my car quickly.
"What…wait, it's not what you…" I had ignited the engine and was driving off.
Later that night, I was in Den, a clubhouse owned by The Hitlers group. This was the agreed point where the spy was to hand the information I asked of her.
I sipped from my glass of whiskey, silently watching as strippers danced around poles on stage.
As the daughter of the Capo De Capi, I was supposed to be trained as a perfect wife for another mafia Don. But I chose not to. It wasn't just the path I'd like to take in the underworld. I may not be a male child, but I'd still love to own men, to command respect like my father, and to lead our family to greater heights. But my Father and the others don't think a girl is capable of all that. I guess that's why he detests me.
My mother had died months after I was born and he hates that he didn't get a chance to bear a male child.
Remarriage wasn't even an option for him as it was against our family omertà(Mafia oath).
I felt a tug on my left elbow and I instinctively withdrew a dagger.
"Chill out!" A feminine voice said. Next to me sat a younger woman in a black hoodie. The spy.
"Are you expecting someone else?" She asked, tapping the table.
Ignoring her, I looked at where she tapped to see an envelope.
"All that I need?" I asked and she nodded.
"Good," I started and stood up to leave. "Devon will make the payment."
With that
, I left the club. Tonight, I will take out Vincenzo Grant.