4: Protection

Double pov


After the awkward as hell dinner and the even more awkward goodbye from Andre after he handed me an anti-scarring ointment for my bruises and ordered his guards to take me home later that evening, I was sure as ever that I didn't want to be a part of that crazy family.

I had felt bad that Andre got into an argument with his father because of me and that had made me try to behave myself for his sake at least. My outfit hadn't gotten the desired reaction I had wanted from my mother anyway and that affected me more than I was probably letting on

She didn't even look my way as I made small talk with Inés, who was only happy to fill me in on what was to be expected of me now that I was about to be tied to the family. I hadn't paid attention to her, only gazing forlornly at my mother as she made sick lovey eyes at Emilio as if they were the only people in the room.


Looking back at it in hindsight, it had been really fucking stupid of me to even show up like that. The desire for shock value clouding my judgement. But still, that was not enough reason for the bastard to call me a whore.

If it were up to me, my mother would have nothing to do with the DiMarcos and even though money was hard to come by, I would make do with what we had and what I could find.

It was a few hours before I had to work my shift at the coffee shop near my campus, so I decided to run a few errands and get more instant food, seeing as I was running low on that.

I didn't bother with groceries because I couldn't cook to save my life. I didn't know how to and I hated the entire process of cooking because I somehow always burned the food to crisps.

A rare talent I would never admit I had.

I survived on take outs, pizza, coffee and instant food that didn't require much cooking. My best friend, Delilah, showed up once in a while with packaged food and sweet pastries she makes on a regular and without her, I didn't know what I'd do most days.

Making a quick list of things I needed in the house, I threw on a tank top and shorts, brushed my hair and inspected the fading scars in the mirror, an early gift promising of a future of violence from the proud bastard himself.

I still felt bouts of rage when I thought of what had happened during that awful dinner, how easy it had been for me to roll and heel and succumb to him.

Not again, I promised myself. Next time, I'd knee him in his crown jewels if he so much as lays a hand on me, and hopefully not get shot in the kneecaps for it.

I remembered to take my pocketknife with me, tucking the blade into the back pocket of my shorts, so that I had at least a form of protection in this rough neighborhood.

I walked out of my apartment, locking up behind me and wearing my apartment key in a rope necklace around my neck.

The moment I stepped out of the building and began walking down the lane, I noticed a van, big and black with tinted windows, following slowly behind me.

My heart slammed again my ribcage, my muscles curled tight with apprehension as adrenaline pumped into my veins.

I tried my best to evade the unsuspecting van and when it didn't let up, I gave it up and turned into the narrow path of my neighbourhood, making a mad dash through the streets, hoping to throw my stalker off.

As expected, the asshole got out of the van and followed after me, fast on my heels.

I turned into a corner, crawling into a narrow shed behind a block of flats with peeling wall paints and wrought iron balconies.

Few seconds later, I heard the heavy footsteps of a heavyweight man and expensive designer shoes splashed into the puddle right in front of me. I held my breath as I heard him curse and mutter something in Italian.

Bringing up his hand a pressing a device perched on his ear, he murmured in a deep voice, "I lost her."

I heard angry cursing from the person on the other line and my fingers dug into the ground underneath me.

"Yes sir, she couldn't have gone far. I'll search around."

Mio Dio, if he does, I'm as good as fucked. I needed to strike first and have the upper hand instead of waiting for him to find me.

I took out my knife and flipped it open, waiting until he tucked the device away and then, making sure that no one was following after him, I sprang out of my hiding place, weilding my pocketknife in my hand.

He didn't see me coming and I crashed into him, pushing him to the ground and straddling him easily, my knife at his throat, nicking his skin, rivulets of blood coating the blade.

"Who are you and what do you want from me?" I growled, the knife digging deeper into his skin.

"I'm only here for your protection," he protested, not afraid of me, only mildly miffed that I had caught him off guard.

His lack of fear irritated me and I dug my knife deeper into his throat.

"Andre sent me to protect you. I thought he had briefed you on the guard rotation by now."

Gritting my teeth at the mention of that insufferable man, I withdrew the knife, my hand still tightly clenched into a fist around his shirt. "Stay away from me. You and men like you. Tell Andre that I don't need his fucking protection and if you keep following me, I'll slit my own wrists and bleed out on the streets."

I'm bluffing of course. I'm not sick in the head. But my stalker was none the wiser.

His eyes widened, panicking at my words.

There was that fear I was looking for, as if he was only just realizing that he was probably dealing with a mad woman after all, solidifying the fact that he was indeed here for my protection.

Lucky bastard.

A contrary reaction would have left him dead five seconds ago.

Pushing myself off of him, I tucked my knife back in my pocket and went off running.


The dock was quiet and empty when I arrived, there was nothing to be heard but the sound of the waves crashing and seagulls squaking in the air.

I noticed Leon standing there, where our new container of arms should be, staring at the horizon, blonde hair wafting in the wind, his hands shoved in his pockets.

There were two men kneeling beside him, tied up, beaten and bloody.

I killed the engine and slipped out of my Bugatti Veyron, apprehension tightening my muscles into hopeless knots.

"What happened?" I asked the moment I got to him.

He gazed at me with a heavy look in his eyes. "The entire ship exploded in the middle of the ocean. The ruins sunk fast and what was left of our shipment sunk along with it. Someone must have rigged a bomb on the vessel, I caught these two lurking around here, probably to make sure the vessel really sank. They're not from La Cosa Nostra. They're Polish and they refuse to say who sent them."

Anger exploded in my veins as the heavy weight of loss settled on my chest.

Taking my Glock out of my back, I released the safety and shook the gun in my hand, testing the weight I had been familiar with since I was twelve.

I levelled the barrel at the first man who was glaring at me in the eyes. "Who do you work for?"

"We will never t-"

I pulled the trigger. Twice into his skull and another in his chest. Blood spluttered out of his mouth and he dropped to the ground with a crack.

I pointed the gun at the other man and I didn't even give him the chance to talk, I killed him in a similar way.

Leon looked at me warily, "I thought you'd like to torture them a bit to know who sent them."

"I know who sent them. Grigori Nowak, he's the swine behind the Polish."

He looked at me, super fucking pissed. "And how long has it been since you knew that without bothering to share?" he bitched. "I've been chasing my tail the whole time."

"Two minutes ago." I looked at the stiffening bodies. "These are only low rank soldiers." I said gruffly, tucking the gun back. "They don't have any worthwhile information I don't already know."

Leon sighed, massaging his forehead.

I knew he didn't approve but I have been doing this longer than he has and I know when to waste my time torturing captives and when to simply let them go.

Staring back at the empty dock and millions of dollars lost in sea, a cold fist clenched around my heart.

The Polish mafia were becoming more and more brave, crawling out of their hiding places and going after my own shipment.

They weren't satisfied with just prowling the streets, they were trying to cripple my business. It's only a matter of time before they gather enough balls and start coming out in large numbers. Before they overrun my streets and my city. Every inch of the midwest I had fought tooth and nail to take back from the Mexican cartel.

There was a war coming, an impending battle for mafia dominance that would decide once and for all who runs the streets.

It's not going to be my first battle. Nor my first war. And the Polish better be ready for me now that they decided to take things personal by going after my business.

I won't rest until these streets are soaked with their blood.

"Take care of the bodies so that the police don't have to do the dirty work and double up the guards with my father, Inés, Mária and Bianca."

I had already sent out guards for Bianca's protection immediately after dinner yesterday. Since my father was going along with this marriage, it was clear she was going to be family sooner or later. No use waiting before things are official to arrange a bodyguard roaster for her.

I slipped into my car and started the engine, driving out of the dock to check on some of the shipments that arrived and had gotten cleared.

My phone buzzed in the cup compartment of the console beside my seat and I answered immediately. "Alfonso."

"Boss," came the head of Bianca's bodyguards. "It's the girl you told me to protect."

The car came to a screeching halt as I nearly ran into pole.

"Bianca?" I growled, anger and dread getting the better of me. "What happened to her?!"

"She doesn't want me following her. She told me to stay away from her."

I was going to break his windpipe. "Tell me, Alfonso. Who do you take orders from?"

"You... Sir."

"Protect her with your life. I won't repeat myself."

"Sir, you don't understand, she threatened to slit her wrists if I kept following her."

Oh fuck! And knowing that crazy woman, she can actually do it.

"Where is she now? I'm coming there myself."

"She went to a bodega down the street from her apartment. It's not far at all."

I hit reverse and drove like a mad man all the way back to Bianca's place.

Comments (1)
goodnovel comment avatar
Melissa Wilson
Well, this should be very interesting!!

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