Vindicta

So greeted the Don

Alessio Salvatore, the eldest son of Giovanni Salvatore, the notorious Don of all Manhattan, New york. It's taken two exhausting years for Alessio to transition, rebuild, and expand the legacy of his father after having lost the trial. No day past that Alessio didn't consider his father's wishes, no minute past that he didn't strategize a way to get his father out of that prison.

"I just don't understand why you had to go and kill Ronaldo Juliani! He was paying his shares without problem! I swear if your father was here Aless-" Alessio shot the man dagger filled glares. The skinny, peppered hair man in front of his desk adjusted his blazer and cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Don Salvatore, I simply state that this is quite the loss in revenue."

With a small grunt Alessio stood. Even with the minor distance of his desk between him and the opposing man, Alessio towered over him. He adjusted his tie, taking large strides to the large mahogany doors of his office. Alessio was not going to explain himself to anyone that wasn't his father. He was precise, intuitive, and never did anything absent mindly. He didn't simply order a hit on Ronaldo, he shot him, himself. There was good reason to believe Ronaldo was playing both sides of the syndicates, though Alessio couldn't say which, simply believing his loyalties laid elsewhere was enough to remove the man from the equation. The family was in a sensitive position, the rivals see nothing more than the Salvatore's weakness, and Alessio would be damned to have his father's legacy be stained by some lesser thug family, Irish scum, or Spanish dirtbags. Where are these tools anyway they should be here by now, no way some commessa just disappeared on them.

Alessio was in his living room by now, having abandoned his previous patron. All he could think about was the girl from this afternoon and how certain he was that she was the missing piece to this broken puzzle. He wasn't sure what time it was now, but his windows revealed the sky had turned to an indigo color. Helping himself to another serving of bourbon before the loud slam of his front doors greeted his ears. Following were what he assumed to be kicks and curses.

"Cabrón, dèjame! Hijo de puta!" He watched as the woman shouted, her legs connecting into his men's chest. Each one struggling to keep her apprehended, her wild curls flying around her. She was an animal, and resembled much the wolf tattooed on her forearm.

His brother followed in behind the chaos, the young man seem to have been enjoying his adventure. "Relax sweet cheeks, keep kicking in that skirt the way you are and you may reveal more than you intend to show." He winked at the raging bull of a woman, too busy assaulting the now 5 men that came to subdue her to notice. Then meeting the focus of his older brother he flashed a childish grin."Got ol wolfy here back for ya, she hasn't been very cooperative I tell ya. Gave Cataldo a real shiner. I figured maybe you could work something outta her, wouldn't wanna mess up this pretty face eh?" He patted his own cheek and his smirk grew 10 sizes. Alessio however was not amused, the girl continue to struggle until knocking over and breaking one of Alessio's vases. Irritation filled Alessio's belly, grabbing the filled large crystal container the bourbon was stored in with one hand, then rushing over to the young woman and snatching her face with the other. He met her eyes, greener than any forest he's explored but burned harder than any fire he's ever started. However, he could not look past his rage to admire the woman's beauty, just as quickly as he got to her, he turned the whole bottle upon the young girl's face. The bourbon poured viciously over her eyes, nose, and mouth. He didn't stop, not while she choked, not when his brother called his name, and not when he felt like the liquid would never end. Eventually it did, the girl now too focused on the burning sensation in her eyes and nose, possibly even lungs to continue rioting.

"Drop her." Alessio commanded, and his men followed. "Leave us." His men followed the next order, everyone including his brother left the room. The mischievous smirk his brother wore now wiped away by shock and wariness. The girl didn't stand, instead she lifted herself upon her hands and forearms, not lifting her face from the ground. It was silent and the energy was ominous, Alessio new she was in pain. He took the time to properly examine her. Her hair barely past her shoulders, her skin was as tan as the affogato his mother use to prepare for his father. He'd always mix it together, said it tasted better that way. He caught his thought, why was this what came to mind when he observed her. With a slight sigh and shake of the head. He pushed her head back, removing the now wet excess hair from her face. She didn't speak, she didn't struggle, and her eyes remained closed. He took his colored handkerchief from his suit pocket and gently patted the woman's face dry. "I must work on my anger, I apologize. I don't normally get this physical with a woman." His apology lacked empathy. He lacked empathy, he was a very matter of fact type of man. He never understood the customs of placing emotions in communication. Still the woman remained, moments past before she opened her eyes. They shared an intense gaze, not one of romance but of challenge. The strength in both man and woman could be seen through their eyes. One raged with ice, the other of fire. Neither one would blink, the moment finally came to a hault when Alessio's eyes wonder to the small mole on the woman's face. In that same moment the woman viciously spat in Alessio's face. With a viscous jerk to the woman's hair he sent her flying back to the floor in the opposite direction, swiftly standing from his knelt position. He wiped the saliva clean from his face with the same handkerchief before throwing it at her. He quenched his rage this time by pacing. The girl not moving from her position on the floor. "Alright, get up." She ignored him. "Stand the fuck up! Ya wanna be fucking tough! Then stand!" His voice was deep, resembling thunder as it resignated throughout the room. He rushed to her once more grabbing her by her sides and lifting her to her feet. She faught, though not as valiantly as before. Simple pushes and slaps.