Alessia Ferrari is the Don of the Italian Mafia. Whip-smart and dangerous, she is a woman in a man's world, surviving against all odds. Born and raised to become a lethal killer, even the ground she walks on bows at her feet. She has it all, until t...
TRIGGER WARNINGS: EXPLICIT LANGUAGE SWEARING VIOLENCE/GUN VIOLENCE SMOKING BLOOD/DEATH/GORE
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I was about to fucking murder someone at this rate. Fuck!
I left Lucious without any information. Fuck. I had no clue to where Alessia was. I tapped my fingers against my phone as I tried to calm myself without having another smoke. Having dealt with Sovereign was bad enough and now I had to deal with this Sánchez. If this man thought he was the devil, he was mistaken. I would show him what it meant to be even worse than the devil.
The car I was in, swerved sharply, almost making my body slam against the door. "What the fuck?!" I growled, already being pissed off. I waited for the sound of firing bullets but they did not come. Even if they did, the car was bulletproof and I was fucking pissed, so no one would survive.
I stepped out from the car, slamming the door shut behind me. I turned to look at Ramsay who was already standing outside, his gun being pointed ahead at a man. An unarmed man. He looked to be a nobody, with his slouching shoulders under his poorly fitting clothes. His jeans were loose, no doubt showing half his ass if that was a fashion choice. I stared at him, why the fuck did he run in front of our car. And who would dare to.
"Who the fuck are you?!" I stared at the man, I'm sure I saw him flinch before he took a step forward. Ramsay cocked his gun, holding it up at face height. The man stepped back, raising his hands up in defence. "I've been sent by Sánchez. He has a message for you." The man spoke hoarsely, his pupils dilating rapidly. Drugs. This fucker was addicted. Perhaps Sánchez sent this fool here with a message uncaring if he were to die. I nodded my head, looking bored. The man gulped before relaying the message on. "He wants you to know that he has her. San Diego shipyard. Twelve am tonight. Come alone."
"Is that all?" I narrowed my eyes at the man. He nodded and opened his mouth as if he just remembered something. "He also said, if you don't come alone, he'll let his men ruin her." The man giggled quietly. Fuck! Before I knew it, I had the man pressed against the car, a gun to his temple. He didn't struggle against my harsh grip. I held him tightly by the collar. "What the fuck did you say? Did you just threaten my wife's safety. There's nothing I wouldn't do for her." I growled as I pushed the gun into his head. I was going to let this fucker live for he was just the messenger but now, no chance.
I roughly pushed him to the ground, where he fell with a grunt. Curling my fist, I punched the car. The cool hard metal had nothing on my anger. I could hit it over and over again and the pain would mean nothing. Ramsay grabbed the man and bundled him into another car. He would be questioned on Sánchezs' whereabouts. And if he didn't cooperate, I think I needed to let my anger out somehow. And this baggy clothed man would be the one to face me. I find it quite insulting that someone like Sánchez would send this filth to me with the message.
I hope Alessia was all right. That she wasn't harmed or touched in anyway. I couldn't - wouldn't forgive myself. She went through so much in her life, growing up with her father, leaning to survive on her own. But she told me she was trained in torture, to her fathers delight, she was a weapon. I knew she would never give in but seeing her getting shot, seeing her cry, she was still vulnerable. She would rather die than kneel before someone.
