A delicate knock on the bedroom door made me draw my weapon from its holster as the knock grew in strength until a voice barely audible squeaked from behind the oak barrier. "Maestro, your father requests your presence in the study." With a growl I bark out a reply relaxing my muscles and placing the gun on my bed.

Nothing good ever comes out of being summoned to that office.

I still remember the first time I was summoned to sign for the mafia inheritance and my final initiation after the ending assignment at the age of 24. Nothing is serious enough in this house to qualify as a closed door office meeting. Unless its life and death matter. The rules in the family were simple. Don't bring work home. Family is law. Although that didn't stop my father from using his family like chess pieces to win any pissing contest against his enemies.

Glancing in the full length mirror the black tailored suit fits perfectly as it always does. The white shirt and accent pieces of a silver watch and carelessly tousled hair. An image can go a long way. Appearing relaxed but professional at all times was the key or so I want to believe.

Walking over to my workbench I choose the two usual knives and slide them in their holsters at the outside of each leg, then swirl the gun from earlier into its place at the chest holster and for a good measure conceal a glock at the small of the back holster. Throwing the jacket over my shoulders you can barely tell of the weapons concealed within. Satisfied with the protection I leave the only place I truly desire to come back to despite its empty appearance.

Before I turn the corner there's a loud chatter emanating from the open room. Conversation spilling onto the corridor for any passing creature to hear. I huffed an annoyed expression no doubt plastered on my face. Summoning usually meant personal and from the sight in front of me; it definitely doesn't appear private.

I enter the lit up grand room. My father standing behind his leather bound chair with a lit cigar in one hand and whiskey glass in the other the ice cubes clinking as he moves the hand that holds it. Eyes calculating his opponent with equivalent appearance. I am no stranger to his games. This is a test. A way to prove my worth of one day fully leading the house of Caffola. Well aware of the scowl plastered on my lips I scan the room. The sofa to the left unoccupied although several individuals, advisors, business partners crowded around it. The bookshelves being admired by a couple of new faces, potential pawns perhaps. As my feet take me deeper into the lion's den fathers eyes land on me.

"Why so glum, my son!" He almost chirps. I raise my eyebrow asking an unspoken question. "We got a negotiation to get to. Thought this might be a great opportunity for you to lead us on this venture with our friends D'Angelo's."

My frown only deepened. D'Angelo's the only adequate opponent to our own family business. Since I can remember there's been a wall wedged between us. One side attacking the other. Trying to own more or to trade more on the black market, to sell larger guns, to smuggle seizable amounts of drugs. Making allies and enemies but never working together. When Nonno was still alive he mentioned a grudge between the two heads when he was a boy. But nothing more has ever been said. Now he wants me to sweet talk a deal with our worst enemy. To meet face to face to risk my skin, my life and the lives of our men and all I have to say to that is, "When and where father?" faking a smile of the coming victory as he approvingly nods and cheers with the other men gathering around as the serious chatter begins.

After hours of debates and arguments with only one of the newcomers ending up with a bullet between his eyes. His piling blood sinking into the custom made rug my mother chose for this specific room. Not a single soul flinched at the sight as they moved past. As our conversation came to an end a couple of the gathered patted my tense shoulder on the way out wishing good luck and safe return. Until it was only us two left and the body on the floor. The whiskey glass has long gone, the ice in it melted into the liquid. I turned from the door glaring at my father.

"What's the catch?" I ask cutting to the point.

"What catch my son. There's no catch." I eye him suspiciously, not believing a single word that comes out of that cunning mouth. His features are so alike to my own. Although my youngest brother Vincento is one who inherited the entirety of his face and our mothers brown locks. The thin lips, roman nose and high cheekbones poised into the perfect illusion of peace.

"Men count for the mission?"

"15 on site, 20 in waiting."

"Location?"

"Mutual ground, the Black Pussy" Wont have too many innocent souls inside. I nod once ready to leave.

"Mari will join you." My hand stills at the door knob at the sound of her name coming from his lips. With full premeditation he sinks the invisible daggers into my gut, twisting it as it cuts deeper piercing through the organs but not a deadly attack to take out the opponent immediately. He enjoys the show. The play he orchestrates using us all to his amusement.

"She's not needed." Hoping the emotion doesn't leak to my words knowing its hopeful wishing it only kills me slower.

"She's got her orders. Don't fuck it up. For everyone's sake." The warming words of encouragement. The anger boiling inside me. I leave slamming the door shut not caring if he reads me like an open book. This is going to end badly.

The next hours to dawn flew by in preparation. The guns were cleaned and tested. Men saying goodbyes to their wives or fucking some hooker picked up from a corner store. Couldn't blame either one for their 'traditions' before a suicide mission. They all had their reasons for joining forces or not. None were born into it. Never did I want pity on the way life planned out for my brothers and I apart from that one night before my initiation. The night I could have had her. But my pride and family prevented the single moment of happiness from lasting more than one night.

The bell rang out and everyone began to assemble into teams assigned to them prior to the final call. The only person missing was her. Scanning the men before me the final speech of what it means to work for the family and how much their lives mean to every person involved. The plan and what we gain by taking this action and so on believing none of these men actually give a single thought about the whys of this mission. But being led by their fear or blinded loyalty to the man stood beside me. By the end of the speech my eyes scan the room again and she is still missing.

Turning back to the crowd I grunt out "Where is she?" the smirk on fathers lips sending a chill down my entire body. She's already there. "Fuck" is all I spit at him leaving to the convoy of vehicles waiting.

When it comes to those hazel eyes my stupidity doesn't even begin to measure. It's as if a single thought of having her close takes away my entire thinking process, one brain cell at a time leaving nothing but a pile of mush and incoherent thoughts. As the car is being driven by Antonio, fathers most trusted man, my leg jumps up and down in anticipation. "Relax Dario, she knows her part."

"Her part of being entertainment or the final bargaining chip? Please tell me which of those she thinks she is?" My eyes hardened and so did my jaw as it clenched so hard my teeth began to ache. The images of Di'Angelo men and their grabby hands wanting to touch her sends a hot undiluted hatred through my blood and the need to kill every single one of them on sight.

The assignment has been chosen with thought. Father knows my biggest weakness. He's aware of my desire and exploits it for the second time in my life. I closed my eyes and laid my head back onto the head rest bringing the focus back on the task at hand. If nothing goes awry It'll be a peaceful signing of contract with a handshake and a couple of cheers to our new partnership. I'd pray for such an easy life if my faith hasn't been tested too many times for it rendering pointless.

"We're here, Boss" Antonio says, parking right in front of the Black Pussy club, its line of possible civilians populated with a couple of our undercover men. I don't give a second glance. As my door swings open I exit the black mustang staring right ahead with the trained calculated glare. Bodyguards were expecting us as not a single one of the buffed up men stopped our party of 10 from entering the grounds. Not even a weapons check.

First sign of trouble.

The music blared from all sides. Lights half blinding blinking to the music. The stench of alcohol and smoke wafting through the corridors leading out to the main rooms. Entering we are greeted with another set of butted up guards and their hands on the loaded weapon in waiting still tucked away in their holsters. My death glare met every single one of their eyes, one by one.

No one draws weapons. Internally I am thankful.

A blond middle aged man with blue eyes and wrinkles, cladded in an expensive check suit, tattoos licking his palms and golden chains hung heavily around his neck.

"I want to speak with Mr. Di"Angelo." My tone is cold as ice. Trained to perfection.

"Unfortunately he had another issue coming up." He reached out his hand. "I'm his right hand man, Victor Carpiochi, to your service."

"Is this a joke?" They are taking the piss. "He couldn't spare his son? Is this deal really that insignificant?"

"As a matter of fact, he has joined us. Lorenzo Di Angelo will be the one authorising your deal, if it's of standard." The man Victor smirks while moving to the side and so do the men stationed at the entrance. We follow the tug into one of the private areas located on the midfloor of the club. It is almost empty with several couches where only one of them is occupied. His demeanour as well stitched up as my own. The distaste for him wasn't immediate.

As we entered his line of vision not a glance was spared on his 'honoured' guests as Victor kept saying on our way here. His eyes were trained on one of the girls. I glanced over to the podiums. The body shimmering in glitter and sweat in the flickering lights. The hair is carefully wrapped in a red ribbon with almost nothing covering her privates. Normally my eyes would linger longer but as the song comes to a change she wanders off the stage. Any man would appreciate her expertise and consider himself lucky. If I had the chance, so would I.

As I turn around to the man of the hour I note down the potential exit routes. The people that are and could be under his hand. Civilians? Perhaps only a handful. As he gets up off the sofa his hand stretches out in a greeting. I shake it, giving a slight nod to our eyes meeting in a locked stare. "You look just like your father." He raises his voice over the music. I nod again not considering that to be a worthy compliment if it even was meant to be one. Perhaps not.

The man breaks the hold and points to the couch and as we both sit down and another song blasts on. He adjusts himself on the sofa letting the jacket button loose. I spot a gleamer of a silver weapon on both sides of the holster. The tie he is wearing is pinned by a silver pin to the baby blue shirt under it. The navy suit only complementing the olive tone of his skin and the pitch black hair slicked back with a couple of rogue strands coming loose. His eyes once again fixed on the private stage.

"Now that is entertainment." His eyes lustfully ate up the site in front. Curious as to what got the man so in trance I glance over my shoulder only to meet the one and only, Mari.

My body heats up almost instantly, rage and lust coursing through my veins. Her hair no longer falling in unpredictable waves but neatly combed into a plait. My mouth went dry as my eyes wandered lower. The push up red bra covers half of her breasts with a matching low waisted burgundy scrunched at the back underwear and a garter detail leaving her plump butt exposed. Nothing to imagine. It looked better than what has been engraved in my mind all these years. A lace mini robe slumped over one shoulder and tied tightly in the middle short enough to still show off those long tanned to perfection legs ending in heels. As the music intensified she lost the robe thrown somewhere to the side.

My fathers words rung in my ears "Don't fuck it up. For everyone's sake." For her sake. If anything her life is the first to go. She is the bait. If anything goes wrong she is the one to cosy up to this man and slit his throat with his own knife and with no doubt she would succeed. I saw that woman in action. There is no force that could stop her from the goal set.

"Aren't I glad that the Angelo Caffola sends his own daughter as entertainment!" The man exclaims. First time since Mari walked out of those thick maroon curtains my eyes averted to him. It is not uncommon for high stakes deals to take place with 'family' entertainment. Although she is not blood, father has always treated her as more of a daughter than any of his sons. Knowing it still takes every ounce of will to not pull out my gun and shoot him right there.

Sooner this deal pulls through, sooner I can punish her for ever entering my life. My eyes are dead set on his features. As his eyes wandered towards her again, admiring and not hiding it. He is playing me. He wants a reaction and I gave it to him outright on a golden platter.

"The deal. I assume you have revised it." I motion for the paperwork to be laid on the low table before us, the watch gleaming as my hand falls back on my lap. "What are the changes you require?"

He makes a tsk noise shaking his head. "It's not a change. But a simple addition." He motions for his tug who comes closer. Instead he joins the discussion papers in hand. "It's an insurance policy of sorts." As he spoke he motions to one of his bodyguards who must have rehearsed the events of tonight as he moves toward the stage snatching Mari off it. Harshly handing her a silky robe which she hesitantly puts on as he pushes her towards our area. "Come on sweetheart." The host pats the seat between him and the tug. My temper is hanging on the last straw.

"What do you want?" I bark out. He got intel from my father. Must have. How else would he know the effect of her presence on me? "Well I have been made a deal. By my own father."

A breath that enters my lungs doesn't seem to know its way out. My heart stops and my hands become still. At the meeting earlier that day it has been mentioned of a bargaining chip of this calibre. But for him to bring it up. Father has been planning it. What does he want me to do. Fight it? Give her up willingly? Entertain the idea for another meet up? Questions are all he ever gives.

"Let me guess." I tried to relax ever so slightly. "You need a bride, an heir, a fucking lifestyle suitable fucking puppet as your arm candy on all the idiotic outings. To seem vulnerable to the outside and for me to not be haunting your ass for the smallest infractions once you make them." Not a question in what I said. "And I will be hunting you for any deviation but you will be holding the main card of the treaty." As I say this my eyes gleam over Mari and how docile she seems unaware we are talking about her very own life changing forever. Unaware or ready.

Ever since she joined our family she could play any part. Docile, ignorant, a brat you name it she owns it in seconds. Many times over the years of observing her I saw glimpses of her true self. But as fast as they shined through all the facades they died. In our world being true, honest and with straight morals won't get a person far. But there always seemed to be something at the back of her mind that nagged and in those brief moments as the pain of that saved bundled child who lost everything, whose life forced its misery to slip to the surface. Other times she might have been a sociopath categorised by her actions.

We all trained together as teens. She was the first to pass her tests. The first to get her kills just right for father to personally mention it during her initiation. It almost felt as if she was going to inherit the family business and at one point I hated her for it. But that was before she slipped up and let me in that night. Years later I could still feel the taste of her lips, feel the softness of her skin, the bumps of many battle scars. I knew it was wrong but she wasn't my sister not then, not now, in my mind not ever.

"Can't say you're wrong there my pal." A slight chuckle resonates from within him. He leans forward as his friend places a hand too high on Maris thigh squeezing. She squirmed uncomfortably under his arm and her eyes met mine void of emotions.

"No." I said looking at her.

She clears her throat "The big boss hasn't shown and your dicks have been let loose? Control your man; his leash is too loose." Her words directed at the host cut straight to the point. But so does the blow of the tugs swinging fist that sends her in the opposite direction where she now lays on the host's lap.

"La puttana" Victor spits venom.

Shocked at the outburst, the host smirks. "I will have fun taming that mouth of yours soon, carissima." He says barely audible over the music as he gets up throwing her off his lap. Before I register what is going on Mari reaches to the inside of his ankle pulling out a combat knife and in a flash she slices Victor's throat spilling crimson onto his shirt. She jumps off the sofa and into the wall of our men who already drew their weapons firing bullets protecting their assassin princess.

At the same time I slide off the sofa and duck behind the backrest waiting for a sign of clear path before joining my men in retreat. "Cazzo!" I shout as I see her slip behind the men towards the exit as bullets swish past every which way.

With the help of some external forces half of our men exit the building and skid off in their vehicles.

Shaking my head as I sit with Antonio bleeding behind the wheel. "Can you drive?" He nodded twice and as Mari entered the car he joined the traffic earning a couple of honks. She sat beside me with a bloody nose still dripping blood down her chin and the bruise forming on her jawline. She didn't even glance up as I pulled out a black padded envelope from the arm rest. Mari gulped, closing her eyes. Her breathing became uneven. She knew what was coming and there was no way to prevent it.

The syringe was loaded and ready. With one swift movement I plunged the needle into her exposed neck emptying the content into her system. Not a wince came from her mouth. Pulling back the needle I smoother the spot over with my thumb earning an unconcealed shiver running through her body.

Within seconds she began to swim off into the black nothing. She held onto the seat in front of her trying to fight the merciless drug. Before she lost all control her eyes locked on me showing the hatred she felt. I hated her for questioning my loyalty. I hated myself for not giving it all up for her. 

______________________________________

AN: Any feedback always welcomed!

Thanks for reading my lovelies. <3