Page 34 of The Fox

“Sit. The. Fuck. Down.” I repeat, pushing my blade deeper as beads of blood dot the aged skin. “Do not test me.”

I feel Jimmy motion to the younger man, the widening of eyes apparent on the aged face, and I know that he’s telling him to stand down.

Medina’s brother sinks into the chair, his eyes not moving from the weapon in my hand.That’s right. You are in my city, fucker.I plaster on a saccharine grin and address him directly.

“Here is how this will go. You,piccolo uomo, are going to go back and tell your brother that I want nothing to do with him. In fact, tell the whole Outfit that I absolutely do not care what they think is beneficial.”

He starts to speak.

“I didn’t say you could speak,” I tsk. “Do you know the repercussions for insulting me? For saying you know more than I do? You are lucky I haven’t killed you for the disrespect.” I pull the head laying against my chest back further, exposing just how vulnerable the man within my claws is. The feel of a neck column against the steel blade is soothing to a dark piece of my soul.

“Here are my fucking terms. One, you don’t step foot here ever again. I don’t care if you need medical attention. If I find you, I will kill you. Two, you’re going to go back to the Family and tell them exactly what happened here. Make sure you tell them you hesitated to shoot me.”

I see the young man’s throat bob and hands clench. His eyes are laced with anger and embarrassment.

“And third,” I say as my blade swipes across Jimmy’s collar, the sound of him choking on his own blood filling the room. “Don’t try to get retribution. I’ve played this game longer than you have. You can’t outsmart The Fox.”

I watch as he stares at the slumped body in the chair next to him. I see the cacophony of emotions flit across his face. “Tell your brother to come and find me himself.” I take my knife to Jimmy’s pant leg, ensuring not a speck is left on the honed blade. I love this pantsuit too much for it to be tainted with the blood of cowards. Turning on my heel, I saunter out the door, letting it slam behind me.

My pulse is fast, the adrenaline mixing with my anxiety over what I just did.

Duncan is on me immediately, concern permeating his gait as we leave the building. I don’t say a word until we reach the car. He’d insisted on driving today, and I’m grateful. He opens the passenger door, and I slide into the seat, buckling myself as he walks around the front of the car. His face is grim. I slip my shoes off, the feeling of being able to wiggle my toes is really nice.

“Did you have to kill him?” Duncan asks as he puts the car into drive. “You just made things messy, boss.”

Boss.This is how I know he’s angry.

“I didn’t have a choice, Duncan. Medina’s brother is an arrogant asshole who needed to be reminded of his place, or the lack thereof.” I stare out the window and start picking at my cuticles. “I had to send a message.” I can feel the anxiousness coursing through my body, and I understand the gravity of what just occurred. I also know that I could not tolerate the disrespect shown not only in that room but by Medina himself.

Duncan’s hand flexes on the steering wheel, and I hear him sigh before he speaks.

“I cannot imagine the way you have to navigate this life, Ames. Parker talks about the way she had to walk a fault line just to exist. You have to lead an entire Outfit.” He pauses and I feel his eyes on me. It is unnerving. “But killing Jimmy only serves to incite Medina into a response. Are you prepared for the fallout?”

I look at him, contemplating what to say next. I feel like Duncan isn’t trying to overstep or to tell me I was wrong. He is only looking out for me, both as his wife’s best friend and his boss.

“There was only one way I was leaving that room. We wanted to find Medina, and now?” I return my gaze out the window, continuing softly. “He’ll come out of hiding to hunt me.”

CHAPTER 22

Parker---You Need To Tell Him

Amelia had called earlier in the week, asking for a girl’s night. She’s been swamped with all things regarding the Mafia, and Duncan has mentioned that he’s concerned for her. My husband is a man of few words and even fewer emotions. For him to be concerned about Ames? Yeah, we need some girl time. Ames is trying to make sure she stays in power, while also luring Medina out from hiding. I know it has been two weeks since she killed Jimmy Costa. I also know there hasn’t been any retaliation.

Despite not being part of the Conte Family, Amelia tells me everything. She’s currently sitting on my living room couch, slouched against the arm, eating the last piece of pizza. We’ve done our nails, the freshly painted blue popping against her skin. I’m proud of her for choosing a color other than black, not that she has much of a choice. I don’t own black nail polish. Despite everything, Ames looks happy. She looks like my best friend for the first time in years.

Amelia keeps things close to the chest; she isn’t someone who lets others in. Expressing emotions is frowned upon in this life, and I know that her father bullied her until she suppressed any emotion at all. A Mafia princess exists to bear an heir, not to express opinions or show weakness. As the only heir to the Conte Family, there wasn’t room for discussion when it came to Ames. She had been molded into a heartless leader, someone who ruled with no regard for the emotions of others.

I plop down next to her, resting my head on her shoulder. We’ve chatted about everything else tonight, and I know that she won’t bring up a certain blue-eyed man until I do.

“So,” I ask coyly, “what’s up with you and Rhodes?”

Amelia’s head snaps up as her eyes widen. “Nothing.”

“Sure. It is totally nothing when a man wants to know your coffee order so he doesn’t upset you. It’s completely nothing when the same man gentles himself so he doesn’t scare you. Absolutely nothing when watches your every move and the move of those around you.”

I lift my head and spin to face her.

“He is nothing.”

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