CHAPTER III (edited)

A/n:

the translation is in the parenthesis at the end.

“Ciao, caro fratello,” Aurelio said smirking, leaning against my doorframe.  My most annoying brother, by a considerable margin out of my three brothers, oh and one younger, and considerably meaner, sister. So I have 4 siblings in total. (hi, dear brother) ...

“Get out,” I snapped, my voice filled with irritation “Before I put a bullet in your head.” I continued, my voice low and commanding.

Aurelio smirked. “Oh, come on, you’re joking, right?”

“He’s not,” Nicolò, my best friend and second-in-command, added sitting on the couch.

Aurelio’s smirk faltered slightly.  “Hah. Funny.”

Nicolò rolled his eyes,then his expression turned serious. “Got a call. The shipments have arrived. They want us to meet them… with cash.”

My temper flared. “What?! Didn’t we just send the payment?!”

“They said it was only the down payment,” Nicolò explained, his tone tight.

“Those bastards,” I muttered, grabbing my blazer and headed to my garage. My anger was already pumping.

I'll kill those greedy fuckers.  

I slammed the car door shut. “Call Mike,” I instructed, trying to regain control of my anger.  “Tell him to bring the money those monkeys want.  And tell him to bring backup.” They're really testing my patience  This wasn't just about the money it was about respect, They don't fear us. And I'll change that.

Nicolò was already on the phone as I drove off, his voice low and efficient. The engine roared to life, cutting through the tense silence.

“Before we go,” Nicolò said, as soon as he finished the order I gave him.“coffee? Please?”  His pleaded like a fucking child.

I rolled my eyes and sighed. “Fine,” I answered. We don't need to be early anyway, let them wait. “And make it quick.” He slightly demanded. The audacity! This man is really...... Fine!!! I sighed.

We pulled up to the nearest café, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled our nostrils.

.

.

.

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“Uhm, I want you to buy me the coffee?” Nicolò blurted as I parked. Really the audacity......this guy.....after everything.

"Are you pregnant or something, you’re getting awfully demanding,” I said, my irritation simmering.

“Oh, come on, I’m tired,” he whined, like a spoiled child.

“And you think I’m not?!” I retorted, my patience wearing thin.

“Come on, mate. Just this once,” he pleaded.

“Ask one more time, and I’ll pretend we never grew up together,” I threatened, my voice tight with annoyance.

I walked inside the shop and went straight to the counter. “Two Asshole’s Coffees, please.” I ordered jokingly. " and to go please " I continued.

I quickly took my order as soon as it was ready, and went my way out of the shop. When suddenly I bumped into someone.

“Do you have eyes, signorina?” I snapped, my irritation flaring. Then I saw her. She's the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen.  Absolutely breathtaking.  Her curves…  My gaze lingered, captivated, before I finally managed to tear myself away from the sight of her cleavage.

She snapped, “Eyes up here, signor.”  Her voice was husky, sultry, utterly captivating.  She placed a hand on her hip, adding some… assets I'd been admiring.  “And keep them there. Don’t you dare look at my babies like that.”

“Babies?” I questioned, genuinely amused.  “You named your breasts?”

"Yeah, and they're named after their cousin, no stop staring" she snapped sarcastically. “And my apologies for the… collision.”  She turned and disappeared into the café before I could respond.

Well, that was… unexpected.

I returned to the car, handing Nicolò his almost-spilled coffee.

“That was quite a scene,” he observed, a smirk playing on his lips.

“It was nothing,” I mumbled, trying to play it cool.

“Well, that doesn’t change the fact you were checking her out,” he chuckled.

“Shut up,” I snapped, my cheeks burning.

“Ares's got a crush!” he sang, his voice dripping with amusement.

“Fucking five-year-old,” I muttered under my breath as I drove away, a strange mixture of annoyance and intrigue swirling within me.  The encounter left me both flustered and strangely exhilarated.  That woman…  I needed to see her again.

________

As we drove, I couldn't get my mind off her, I mean she's gorgeous after all. But there's something that wants me to look for her. I sighed. I'm just being horny.

We arrived at the designated meeting point, a deserted warehouse on the outskirts of town. The air hung heavy with the scent of dust and decay, Mike arrived shortly after, his face grim, a duffel bag heavy with cash clutched in his hand.  He’d brought backup two burly men, their faces impassive, hands resting near the holsters at their hips. Good.

The warehouse doors creaked open, revealing three figures silhouetted against the dim interior. The leader, a man named Sal Demarco, stepped forward, his eyes cold and calculating. Dang this guy sure is short. He was flanked by two equally menacing henchmen.

“You’re late,” Demarco said, his voice a low growl.  He gestured towards the duffel bag.

“And you’re short.” Nicoló replied sarcastically. Making my men bursts out laughing. But I couldn't care less.

My hand instinctively went to the pistol holstered at my waist. “We paid what we agreed upon,” I countered, my voice steady despite the tremor in my gut. “This is extortion.”

Demarco laughed, a harsh, grating sound. “Extortion?  Let’s just say… we're short. We need more.”

"yeah, like you. " Nicoló retorted. I rolled my eyes at his sarcastic reply. "Can you be serious? " I questioned.

Nicolò cleared his throat and stepped forward, his hand resting on the butt of his own weapon.  “We’re not paying a dime more,” he stated firmly.  “We’ve already been more than generous.”

The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife.  Demarco’s eyes narrowed, assessing the situation. He saw the resolve in our eyes, the steel in our spines. He’d underestimated us.

Suddenly, a shot rang out. Chaos erupted. The warehouse became a whirlwind of gunfire and shouts.  Mike’s backup engaged Demarco’s men, a furious ballet of bullets and desperate maneuvers. Nicolò and I returned fire, our shots precise and deadly. I focused my bullets on Demarco, earning him a total of 20 shots, 10 in the head and the rest in his body.

The fight was short, brutal, and decisive.  Demarco and his men were outmatched, their bravado replaced by panicked desperation. Then three figures lay sprawled on the floor, their lives extinguished. The warehouse echoed with the silence of victory, a silence punctuated only by the heavy breathing of the survivors.

We left the warehouse without another word, leaving the bodies for the authorities.  The victory was hard-won, but it was a victory nonetheless.  The message was sent, We were not to be trifled with.  The cost of underestimating us was far too high.

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A/N

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