“Maverick!”
Zane’s name is the catalyst to breaking the most honest, intimate, and calm moment Zane and I have had in months. My father clearly means business as when I look, he looks peeved that Zane and I were so close even if for a limited time. I take the moment as a blessing. I don’t want a moment like this to be on public display. I don’t want people to see what Zane really makes of a mob princess.
“I guess you’re wanted,” I say, loosening my own grip on Zane.
“We’ll continue this later,” he tells me, and he kisses my forehead before dropping away and following the sound of my father’s voice.
I decide to wander around the party, and see what’s going on in the various rooms. I walk around until I find a quieter room and find the air to be calmer here. Jonny – one of the oldest mafia Dons in the business – sits with everyone around him, waiting for whatever tale he’s about to spin. His frailty shows how much older he is to my father, but he’s a man who hung up his wayward ways long before he got too deep. Jonny used to be ruthless, killed his own brother and wife after he caught them having an affair. However, it didn’t take him long to drift into the shadows and be a counsellor of sorts for other mobsters.
“It all started with Ruby Collini,” Jonny begins to tell them all. “She was Antonio Collini’s wife and adored by everyone. Everyone, that is, but Antonio. Their story started with love but soon ended with misery. Collini was a greedy man, and he used Ruby as a trophy. She soon became imprisoned by his love and made to make women envious and men stare. She was one of the most powerful tools he had at his disposal and he used her every single day they were married.”
“What happened?” one of the men asks, obviously unaware of this infamous story.
“It ended in misery. Her actions were that of a desperate woman, but it was one that saw her free.” Jonny takes a swig of his drink, garnering anticipation from all those listening before he finishes the story. “Ruby Collini was the first Femme Fatale in our midst. She was able to seduce men with one look, rile them up and tear them down just by reminding them who she was already owned by. Stefano Abbiati decided to make sure that if there were to be any more like her, it would be within his descendants and no one else’s. Sadly, he produced only boys, but his son Salvatore had the first girl in decades.”
“Amelia Abbiati is hardly the epitome of Femme Fatale,” one unknown man quips, chuckling as he mocks me.
I take my moment to bite back, unable to allow someone to cuss me when they have no idea who I am and what I’m clearly capable of.
“I could have you on your knees within seconds if I wanted,” I reply to his comment. I force him to realize that I’m just a few mere feet behind him. The look he turns to me with is a look that is priceless, and I laugh at him. “I’ve killed possibly more men that you’ve had women in your bed. And I am not above it to make you an addition to my list.”
“No one’s scared of you anymore, Amelia,” he challenges me, stepping toward me.
I merely smirk. “That will be your biggest downfall.”
“Whatever. You’re not what everyone used to think you were. Weak, insubordinate, waste of space in a family as legendary as the Dio Lavoro,” he continues to speak, spewing hate fire at me. “We all know even your father doesn’t care much for you anymore. Not after every disgrace you’ve bought to the family. You should be ashamed to be part of the Dio Lavoro when you’re not built for it. Those least deserving always have everything at their feet.”
As I feel the burn of humiliation begin to travel up my chest, the heat raising the temperature of my blood, I harden myself. My eyes narrow as if this random male were my next hit. I can almost feel a vial of poison – a feeling I haven’t had to endure in months. As my chest heaves with new exhales, I steady my venomous thoughts and decide gentle is a better approach.