Page 117 of His to Have
A flicker of irritation crossed Gianni’s face before it hardened into something cold. “Careful. That’s still myfamiglia you’re disrespecting.” His growl was ominous but it didn’t faze me. In fact, his audacity only enraged me.
“Fuck your daughter.” My hand slammed flat on the table, damn near breaking it in two. “If I knew where you buried her conniving slut ass…I’d piss on her grave and make you watch. Don’t piss me off, Gianni.”
A large prominent vein formed at the center of his forehead. It thumped violently indicating my words had landed, then hit their intended mark. The muscle in his jaw ticked, and the space around his eyes tightened. Before he could think of the consequences, the wood floors scraped beneath his chair, and his hand dipped toward his waistband.
“You watch your fuckin’ mouth, boy.” He aimed his chrome pistol at my face.
Instead of seeing fear in my eyes he was met with my own rage, in the form of my twin pistols. One pressed against his temple and the other at his jugular. He was fast, but I was faster. And my aim was tried and true. I’d dot his ass right between the eyes, before he ever had time to think of pulling the trigger.
His breaths were heavy, chest heaving, as he fought to keep a tight grip on his gun.
“I suggest you sit your old ass down.” My eyes were like ice. “You sit here and disrespect me? After what your daughter did. After the lack of control you’ve had?”
My finger tightened around the trigger, only seconds away from squeezing and ending it all.
“Matter of fact, I should say fuck what the faction says.” I shoved the gun further into the base of his throat, making him swallow uncomfortably. “Since you are determined to disrespect the Donatelli name. First you let your daughter run rampant. Then you let your shipment sit in my docks for days. Costing me money, like my dime don’t mean shit to you. It’s all good though.”
The corner of my mouth lifted into a smile that wasn’t intended to be pleasant. “I appreciate the work.”
”That’s my fuckin’ product—”
“Nah. That’s all me now.” I deadpanned daring him to check me. “Mine.”
A knock at the door cut through the intense standoff. When the door flung open, one of Gianni’s men stuck his head in looking between us with our guns drawn. His face said he wanted to step in, but street politics said he better stand down or face the ultimate consequence. The hierarchy was in full effect, and everyone with Gianni and me knew their place. Instead of making the scene bigger he calmly informed us that the bottle girl was there.
“Send her in,” Gianni told him, stepping back and lowering his gun, which prompted me to lower my weapon. But I was no fool, my finger stayed on the trigger. Just in case he wanted to get active.
The bottle girl entered timidly, eyes solely focused on the empty mahogany table that sat between Gianni and I. She was aware of how volatile the atmosphere was.
“I... gentlemen, your whiskey,” the pretty woman managed to cut through the heavy silence, her voice barely above a whisper.
Avoiding eye contact with either of us, her gaze bounced between the twin matte black pistols locked in my grip, then shifted to the chrome barrel half-hidden under Gianni’s hand. It didn’t take long for her to shift her focus to the empty bar sitting in the back of the room.
“You can sit them down, sweetheart.” I told her, drawing her gaze from the distance and to my face. Tucking one of my pistols in my waistband, I reached in my pocket retrieving several hundred dollar bills and dropping a hefty tip on her silver tray. Then I offered a reassuring nod. “We won’t be needing any more services tonight.”
There was no need to explain the importance of discretion. The fear in her gaze and the silence that stretched while she placed the glasses one by one in front of us told me she hadn’t seen shit. Even if she had.
“I’ll make sure you’re not disturbed any further.” Her neck bowed slightly before quickly getting the hell out of dodge, exiting out of the same door she came in. The moment the thick door slammed closed, all of the tension resumed as if no one had ever entered the room.
I let the heaviness sit for a beat, then leaned in.
“We’re entering a new era of leadership. Samuel was forced to step down. My father is retired. That leaves me.” My hand patted at the center of my chest. “And Bash. Then you. But I don’t trust you. Bash doesn’t trust you. Hell, the faction doesn’t trust you. The way you been moving lately has been inexcusable.”
“Inexcusable?” His scoff was just as loud as his ego had been. “I’ve been making moves since before either of you droppedfrom your pop’s nut sack. I helped build the very table you young pups dare to try to claim as yours. My leadership is what brought the faction this far.”
“Yet, your non-action has let your family descend to shit, led to a war orchestrated by someone in your family, and made room for a power vacuum that threatens the stability of everything we’ve built.” I told him coldly. “You’re out.”
Gianni’s light caramel face turned a deep crimson, his anger radiating off of him. Both his hands balled into fists, and his knuckles ground against the table. “You little—”
“This is not up for debate.” I cut him off, my voice a barely contained rage. “You of all people know the rules. There’s no room at this table for a man who can’t control his family or his men. The game doesn’t pause for anyone. Not even you.”
Settling back into the leather cushion, I draped my arm across the back of the seat’s cushion and watched him fight his temper.
“Whatever you’re thinking... you shouldn’t. Whatever leash the faction has asked me to give you, I’ll say fuck it. Because I voted we kill you but…” I trailed off smirking at the fact he was on borrowed time.
“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
I shrugged.
