Page 46 of Mafia Princess

My victim disappears into a room at the end of the corridor leading to the bathrooms. Perfect. Got you cornered, fucker.

I slowly get up and gain the attention of the girl with the mop, she smiles at me, before she continues with her cleaning. Good, she’s not going to be a problem.

Scanning the area before slink toward the closed door, I slide my hand over my gun nestled against my back, the silencer already attached. Resting my hand on the door handle, I count down from three before I turn it and push the door open in silence. Sitting pretty at his oversized expensive desk is Bianchi. His head snaps up at my movement, and he eyes me with speculation, as I shut the door behind me.

“What can I do for you?” He clasps his hands on his desk and waits for me to answer. He stares at me like I’m an inconvenient stone stuck in his shoe, disrupting his end of business calculations.

“It’s more what I can do to you,” I answer, and keep my position by the only door, afraid the slimy fucker may want to run when I unleash my hell on him.

His twitchy eyes watch me carefully, his rat-like features making his face look screwed up. “You’re wasting your time, Capelli.” He dismisses me with a wave of his hand.

My veins feel as though they’re about to pop from the anger brewing in them. Striding to his desk, I remain calm and place my palms flat on the cool wooden surface, leaning down so I’m more at eye level.

“I’m sorry if you feel your time is so precious.”

“Did your father send you?”

“No one sent me, Bianchi,” I reply. “It’s just little old me and my friend called revenge.”

He chuckles in my face. “Go home, little girl, before you get yourself killed like your mother.” The vicious glint in his eyes turns my blood cold, and I leap over the desk in one bound, tackling him and his heavy leather chair, to the ground.

I land an elbow into his throat as we hit the floor, gaining a satisfying choked groan out of him. His wrinkled face turning a shade of hellfire as he gasps for air. His arms flail around trying to grab a hold of something to hit me with, but I jump to my feet and kick him as hard as I can in his balls, making him wheeze in agony.

“You’re weak like your father, Principessa.” He rolls onto his side, trying to get to his feet.

“What did you say?” I growl.

Smashing my boot into his face before he can get on his feet, I hear a low crack and know I’ve fractured something. I don’t give him time to blink, let alone allow him to get on even ground, before landing another boot to his face. He slumps to the ground, face down and groans, spitting blood.

“Aiutami,” he screams like a little bitch.

I squat down beside him, just out of his reach. “Nobody is coming to help you.” I smile down at him. “Where are all your soldiers, Bianchi?”

“Fuck you,” he spits.

“Every made man knows not to be alone at any given time. That’s when the enemy strikes, you silly old man.”

He manages to get his hands and knees, but I jump up and lay another boot into his gut. He crumples to the floor gasping for air.

“It wasn’t me you stupid bitch,” he screeches.

“You were there. You were involved. You will pay.”

“I didn’t fucking kill her.” He coughs and spits blood at me.

“Why did you kill her, Bianchi?”

“I didn’t. I never laid a finger on her!”

“Liar!” I shout at him and pull out my hunting knife hidden in my sleeve, gripping the handle like my life depends on it.

“I didn’t fucking kill her.” He rolls onto his back, attempting to sit up when he spots the knife in my hand.

“Wrong fucking answer.”

He scrambles onto his hands and knees and reaches out for his desk, most probably trying to retrieve his gun.

Lunging forward, I stab him in the back, trying to stop him from moving. A loud shrill pierces my ears and he drops to the floor, squirming like a little bitch.

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