Insatiable Crimes: A Mafia Romance

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qotd: what are some power moves you want ava to pull over vincent? except for vince on his knees. cause i've already got that covered ;)
i'm going to have fun with this lol🧑🏼‍🦯

please don't forget to vote and comment <3

X E N A

A total of two chains littered the ground, one for every brief response I got.

Vincenzo had leaned back against the chair, an expression of indifference making the angular lines of his jaw look much sharper. Though I suspected that it was to mask his lightheadedness from the blood loss.

Till now, all I got out from him was that Vetrov was dead, the new Bratva was out for blood, mine to be specific. But again, I had that effect on people. The second thing that was new to me was that the Bratva has now been divided into two parts since the people weren't pleased with the man who killed Vetrov. Cue there being two Pakhans. God, what a headache.

At least only one of the two mobs wanted me dead. Fun.

"Did you send your men after me? Or was it only the new Bratva's men?" It was my third time questioning something along the lines of this, and he had deflected them all. Smartly, too. "Do not make me ask again," I warned, my voice lowering to convey my solemnity, knife twirling.

I prided myself on having a perfect aim. Two seconds from my part and my knife would be jutting out from his heart. Or one of his kidneys, I suppose, if I were feeling charitable.

He was quiet for a moment, mulling on whether to give me a straightforward answer or not. I took that time to meticulously read the brief streaks of emotions that decided to paint his face for a fraction of a second. Or what he wanted me to see.

He leaned back against the chair leisurely. "I did."

He sent his men after me.

All the puzzle pieces that were finally beginning to join together broke apart— quick and sudden, scattering all over the place. "Why did you?" I rose a brow, masking my conflicting fervour. We both knew that he would have to give me more than two measly words for the third set of chains to come off.

And maybe, a large portion of my brain, the one that enjoyed his misery a little too much, hoped he wouldn't reply.

Dragging out his death to my benefit seemed only benefiting, for all the attacks I had to put up with.

What was in it for him? I heavily doubted that he needed the money.

"I was going along with the trend." The trend of killing me. That sounded fun. He crossed his newly freed arms— a red, blaring sign of defensiveness. My eyes sparkled at the knowledge. So, there was something else. Just as his head caught up with his movement, he faked a very convincing wince, before straightening his forearms.

Lies, lies, lies.

Most people blamed it on the tequila. Vincenzo blamed it on the bullet.

I called bullshit. If I'd learnt anything about the moody capo today, it was how he was a manipulative bastard— be it with twisting conversations or with steering a person to drive a knife into their own fucking heart. The perfect term for him would be a puppeteer. A person who controlled another in a clever or unscrupulous way.