Chapter 9

• Sienna
• Just as I stood up, I saw Eric enter into the house. He looked surprised to see me but smiled nonetheless. His clothing was covered in deep crimson blood and so were his hands. I didn't know why, but I felt sudden panic when I saw the blood, which was stupid because I dealt with blood all the time.
• "So this bit of business didn't require a gun?" I asked cheekily.
• He smirked as he flexed his hands, and I watched his built arms also flex as he showcased his perfectly sculpted muscles.
• "This bit of business was more personal," he finally replied.
• I nodded because I perfectly understood what he meant. But shit, I couldn't fall for him.
• I sighed softly before I asked, "Where is your first aid box?"
• As soon as I said that, his guard held a box out for me. And it was the same one Cara had an adorable little crush on. And I could even see why.
• "Thank you,” I replied, looking straight at him.
• The guard smiled politely. "I am Gabriel," he said, introducing himself.
• I nodded as I snuck a quick glance at Cara. "You are Italian?" I asked with a raised brow.
• His accent wasn't prominent but I suspected he was. "Yes, I am" He smiled, ruffling his brown fluffy hair.
• I smiled as I looked at the man. He was a handsome Italian man. He would do for Cara, and I may even allow it.
• Eric cleared his throat as I turned my attention back to him. "Oh, yes, sit, " I ordered as I pointed at the sofa.
• He raised a brow at me, his lips forming a perfect smirk. "Bossy much?"
• I smiled. "Always," I replied as I sat beside him, becoming aware of how close we sat as our knees almost touched.
• Every hair on my body stood up and my stomach was doing backflips. I needed to calm down. Why the fuck was I even doing this? Then I began to shuffle through the box as I searched for a bandage.
• "Did you have a nice day?" he asked, catching me off guard. No one had ever bothered to ask me that before.
• "Yes. I even bought a new tiara," I replied.
• I finally found a bandage and held onto Ace's hand as I dabbed a bit of rubbing alcohol onto the cut on his knuckles. I furrowed my brows when he didn't flinch. It should have stung him a lot. I noticed how he was looking at me intently.
• "Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked. I was trying to figure him out, and I think he was trying to do the same.
• His lips twitched. "You are just... so beautiful. Captivating," he said softly.
• I smiled at the genuine compliment as I continued to clean his hands, not bothering to tell him to stop fucking looking at me. Because I liked it. Not that I would admit it, though.
• When I was done, he headed to his room to shower while I headed to mine. I also showered and when I was done, I laid on the bed in just a T-shirt and shorts. I brushed my hair out with my hands but got disturbed by an incoming call.
• I looked at the screen of my phone. It was that fucking asshole again. I growled as I answered the call.
• "You fucking thick bastard! One job. You had just one fucking job. I will be coming home tomorrow and you better fucking pray that I show you some mercy. Now stop fucking calling me or I will get Mike to kill you."
• The man went mute and I turned the phone off. No one would dare mess with me. They would shudder at the thought of Mikebeing commissioned to kill them.
• Because I owned Mike. And Mike was sick and depraved. He was the perfect killer. I was a brutal person, but Mike was a nightmare. He was a perfect assassin without any sort of emotions.
• My phone rang once more and I lost it. I threw it across the room and it struck the wall. The screen cracked and the ringing sound stopped. My chest heaved as my hands shook. What the fuck?
• The door to my room was flung open widely and Eric walked in shirtless. I thought I had locked it. But what a distraction. I mentally captured his toned six pack and defined v line.
• Boy, I would have fucked you if you weren't Eric fucking Connall.
• He walked closer towards me as he noticed my state but my eyes never left him, and I didn't care if he saw me looking at him.
• "What's wrong, Sienna?" he asked, and his voice seemed laced with concern.
• I shook my head. "Every fucking thing. I am just sick and tired of assholes not doing their jobs properly." Then I started to pace around the room.
• "Sienna, just calm down," he said softly.
• "Calm down? How the fuck can I calm down?" I yelled.
• Maybe some weed and alcohol will help, I thought but my thoughts immediately departed from my head as I felt a pair of strong arms around me to stop me from pacing. Eric stood in front of me, blocking my path.
• "Get the fuck away," I growled.
• But he did not move. Instead, he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulled me in towards him and I tensed up. I felt his hand run down my back in a soothing manner and then I relaxed. I breathed in his scent and hugged him back. We stood like this for a while and time seemed to have stopped for ua. Why the fuck were we even hugging?
• We eventually let go and I sat on the end of the bed.
• "How did you know that would work?" I asked as my mind seemed to have become blank. All the anger I felt had also vanished.
• He sat down beside me, the bed dipping slightly. "I didn't. I just took a gamble. I mean there were only two outcomes. One, you would strangle me to death. And two, you would hug me back." He chuckled quietly.
• I chuckled back before I spoke. "No, I would have snapped your neck. I don't like strangulation because it requires a lot of effort and it is also very time consuming."
• "Well, I am glad you didn't," he said as he placed his hands into the pockets of his grey joggers. My eyes flickered to the prominent bump which sat between his thighs.
• Fuck, I thought.
• "I want to get know you," he suddenly said.
• He wanted to know me? Why? Why bother?
• I looked down at my feet. "I have to go back to Italy. I have some things I need to take care off," I told him. And I don't fucking want a man.
• "Do you have to go? Can't you send some minions?" he asked.
• I shook my head and chuckled darkly. "The minions are the ones fucking up."
• He smiled as he faced me. I faced him and got lost in his eyes. I loved his dark eyes. He slowly removed his hand from his pocket and placed it on mine. I felt the crackle of electricity buzz through my fingers and a warm feeling throughout me. Fuck, this was something I had never felt before.
• "I am surprised you haven't killed me yet," he said as his lips tugged into a mischievous smile.
• I smiled back. "Me too," I said truthfully.
• He chuckled. "I like you, Sienna."
• I sighed as I looked down at my hand which was now in his. They fit perfectly together.
• "You are actually not as bad as I envisioned," I said, sighing softly.
• I felt a bit of guilt as I remembered what I thought of him before I even got to know him. My heart also betrayed me. I was falling, and falling hard, even. And there was nothing I could do to stop it. Perhaps going to Italy was just what I needed to clear my head. Because I sure as hell couldn't fall for him.
• He ran a hand through his dark hair. "How did you envision me?" he questioned me and smirked.
• Of course, he would want to know and I was not one to lie. I faced him again as I became more aware once more of the fact that he wasn't wearing a shirt. Goddamn it.
• I cleared my throat as I tried to look into his eyes. "I thought you would be an asshole. A dick. A fucker." Then I chuckled because the words that spilled from my mouth didn't draw any reaction from him.
• "And am I?" he asked.
• "Most likely," I answered as I placed a finger to my lips.
• He smiled as he stood up. "I would like to change your mind one day," he said. Then he left the room without another word.
• Fuck, he had tattoos. So many fucking tattoos. I didn't even have time to look at them properly.
• That night I slept soundly. I was growing more and more comfortable around Eric. Did that scare me? Yes, a little.
• ***
• The next morning arrived quickly and I left the house early to reach my plane in time to leave. I was informed that my father had left for Italy last night. I did not care what he did but I kept tabs on him regardless in the hopes one day I would be told he was dead.
• After landing, I was driven to a small ghetto in a bad part of Italy. I had gone to the ghetto a handful of times, but only when I needed to visit. I despised it because it was corrupted and disgusting. The people here lived in fear and squalor.
• I looked into my phone camera as I applied red lipstick to my full lips. I wore casual clothing as I did most of the time. Then I placed my phone in my back pocket of my ripped black jeans as I stepped out from the car. My hair fluttered in the wind as I looked around.
• Cara stood by my side with a gun in her hand as did a few other guards who accompanied me. I carried no weapons except a small knife which was concealed in my boot.
• I clicked my fingers as I leaned back onto the SUV. Tall slender buildings lined the streets, and each building was occupied and full to the brim. The road was littered with potholes and the neglect was too much in the ghetto.
• I walked faster as I wanted to get out of here as quick as possible. A few moments later, three men were dragged out and held before me. I raised my head up and the guards that held them forced them to their knees. They were begging for mercy and the fear was evident in their faces.
• I did not really understand them in that moment. If they feared me that much, then why did they disobey me?
• I held a hand up as I pushed myself off the car. "Silence!" I commanded.
• I looked at the man in the middle with disgust. His face sickened me. What an ugly fucker he was.
• "You made me to come to this shithole and for what, Paulo?" I said in Italian with a scowl on my face.
• Paulo pleaded and the fake thick gold chains around his neck were swinging as he did so. "I am sorry. Forgive me, please," he said in broken English.
• "I hate it when people beg. It is pathetic, so shut the Fuck up," I growled.
• I looked around and I saw that the road was now abandoned and devoid of civilians. The windows to all the homes in the vicinity were curtained as people didn't dare witness what I was about to do.
• I held up a finger. "You had one fucking job, Paulo. All you simply had to do was launder money for me. So what I was paying you was not enough that you had to steal from me."
• I looked at the other man on his knees. He was the younger version of Paulo.
• "You," I said to him. "You will take over. What is your name?" I asked as I pointed at him.
• "Dan," he mumbled as he looked at the dirty ground.
• I smirked. "Dan, you are in charge of this from vicinity now on."
• "Now, you will have to kill your father," I said as I looked between both of them.
• I wondered internally if he would do it as Dan's eyes widened in shock. The guard that held him down released him and he stood up shakily. I held out a hand and Cara handed me a gun. Then I held out the butt of the gun to Dan.
• "Go ahead or I will kill you both," I said, knowing that he wouldn't dare to shoot me because he would be dead before his finger even pulled the trigger.
• "I love you son," Paulo said as he broke down.
• Fuck, those words repulsed me and I grimaced because his face was even uglier as he cried.
• "Dan," I said firmly. "I don't have all day."
• Just as I said that, Dan turned to his father and shot him. He fucking shot him.
• I looked surprised because I didn't think he had it in him, and that was exactly what I said next. "I didn't think you had it in you," I started, then added. "You know what to do. Keep everything in check. Your father was a fucking disgrace. Do not let me down. Do I make myself clear?" I said loudly.
• Dan nodded as the gun fell from his hand and clattered to the ground. Then he looked away from his father's body. "Yes, Don," he replied, nodding along.
• I smirked as I entered the car and left the scene. "Those fucking scum need to know their place," I muttered.
• I sighed out loudly because I was becoming increasingly frustrated with idiots not doing their jobs properly. No way were these fucking idiots going to ruin my legacy and everything I had worked for.
• I was a cold hearted bitch to many. I always thought of it as a compliment so it didn't bother me at all. I was raised to be merciless and full of hatred. I also had my father's temper.
• But I despised father for the way he brought me up. My childhood was stolen from me. But looking at me now, maybe it was for the best. A weak woman wouldn't survive the mafia, let alone run it.
• Every moment I made more enemies, every minute I had more power, every hour I became more feared, and I loved it.