Chapter 2 2

I wasn't alone for long; a maid came by as I requested to pack my things. I drank some more Bourbon neat while I watched her scramble to pack my clothes. "Non mettere in valigia la mia lingerie. Sei pazza? Pensi che andrò a letto con lui (Don't fucking pack my lingerie. Are you insane? Do you think I'm just going to fuck him?)" I growled. The maid flinched when I spoke. I was being too harsh; I was fucking angry. Fuck. What if he's old or a disgusting womanizer? What if he beats women? I'd never let him touch me. I shook my head at these thoughts when I received an incoming call.

"Yes..I see..ten minutes and I'll be there." I spoke on the phone to one of my guards, who was taking care of a little problem. If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. I sighed and pulled a black hoodie over my crop top and jeans. I changed out of my heeled boots and into sneakers. Things were about to get messy. I left the maid in my room and headed outside.

I slipped into my favourite red Locke as I looked at the setting sun through the tinted windows-hues of red, amber, and yellow blended into each other-a pretty picture. KC promptly took a seat beside me and strapped herself in. I knew I had to leave tonight to make it in time to reach America tomorrow to see that man. But that's the luxury of owning your plane; I could leave whenever I wanted to.

I turned on the ignition to the car and felt the thrilling purr of the engine. I pushed my foot down and floored the car to its destination. Perhaps this is as free as I will ever feel. I winded down small streets and along long, empty roads. I was breaking every law yet I evaded justice.

I was the law in Italy.

Upon arriving at a desolate warehouse, I exited my car. My dark mid-back-length hair fluttered across my face as I failed to tie it into a ponytail. As I walked towards the building, I was immediately let inside, and some guards even bowed their heads. Respect was earned, never given. And I had earned everything I worked for.

The room I was led to was small and damp. The place reeked of a metallic odour. A blend of blood and bleach, almost enough to make you gag. I smirked when I saw a man tied up on a metal chair. A fucking rat.

"I despise snitches because we all know they are nothing but bitches." I spoke as the man dared not look into my eyes. "And you know what they say-snitches end up in ditches. But that's not how I run things. You see, stealing punishable by death, killing punishable by death, snitching punishable by, you guessed it, death." I grinned evilly.

I chuckled darkly as I turned my back to the man. "Even if you simply annoy the fuck out of me, I'd kill you."

I faced the man who remained mute. He was bloodied and beaten as I had requested. And yet he gave nothing away. I wanted to know who snitched about my business affairs. The worst thing any mafia could have were reckless immature snitches, running off to the police, or singing to the highest bidders.

The police are in my pockets, but that doesn't mean they won't bring me down. I know for a fact that they are building a case against me. I let them, as it amuses me a great deal. How do they think they can touch me? How do they think they can bring me down? No one can bring me down.

"So you won't talk? I have no use for you." I stated as I pulled out my knife from my pocket. The ugly middle-aged man seemed to have awoken from his muted trance and tried to pull at his bonds. "Vuo cagna! (You bitch!)" He yelled.

I gasped as I held a hand to my heart. "You hear that, KC, he called me a bitch. Me a bitch, never." I smirked as I approached the man. In an instant, I had pushed the knife deeply across his throat in a single straight line.

Blood spluttered out as it sprayed onto me. I watched as it took exactly five seconds for the man to choke on his blood and surrender to death. A nasty way to go, but it's necessary. I can't be lenient because once I do, everyone will know me as a soft touch. And they'll walk all over me, like a doormat. I've already had it tough, being a woman.

I pulled out my phone from my pocket and checked the time. I suppose I'd better go. Father will be waiting for me, and God forbid if I run late. A guard handed me a towel, and I wiped my hands and some of the blood that stained my face.

The mess here would be cleaned up and sorted in the blink of an eye. The body would vanish; blood washed away. The snitch would be wiped from existence.

After driving to my plane, I shrugged off my hoodie and tossed it to the ground. I walked up the few steps onto the plane. My body stiffened at the sight of my father, who was already seated inside. The fuck. Fuck fuck.

Father noticed me and scowled. A look I've grown accustomed to too. "My my, Rita, you look like merda (shit). I don't know how I got you married off." He rasped, chuckling at his joke.

I clenched my teeth and sat on the furthest seat on the spacious plane away from him. I was wanting to take this time to sleep, but my father had other plans. His stare never left me as he continued talking. "You'll have to dress better than that once we go to meet the Americans." He prattled, pulling a loose thread from his grey suit.

I placed my head in my hand as I so wanted to take the edge off my father's incessant whining. "Whatever you do, do not disrespect the Americans. If your husband, what's his name, Chase? What a stupid name. If he wants to have his way with you, you let him. Do you understand me?" He grunted, awaiting an answer from me. I hated talking back to him. I hated being in the same space as him.

I nodded my head falsely. Does Father not care about me? He would allow his only daughter to be sold off, uncaring for whose hands I would be in. I scoffed to myself. If he hated me so much, he should have just killed me. Because I will kill him one day. And that day is coming soon.

Father leaped up from his seat and took a few menacing steps towards me. Fuck. My stare did not waver from him. I knew what he was about to do. But I still flinched when he grabbed my wrist roughly. "Do you understand?" He growled as I tried to avoid inhaling his putrid breath.

"Yes, father," I said through clenched teeth. I could poison him. But someone would know; they'd always know. "Good." He said as he let go of my wrist and walked back to his seat. I breathed out slowly as I looked away from him.

After a long agonizing flight, we finally reached our destination. I couldn't sleep because he was there, so I was tired as fuck. We got booked into a hotel, and I collapsed onto the bed, feeling more love from the soft sheets than I ever would from my father.