stool to my right. I messaged him earlier. I place my bottle on the bar and push it to one side as the bartender slides Vince his usual Jack.
I lean back a bit and tap my knuckles on the bar before facing him. Vince is a ruthless fucker, and he doesn’t take any shit. He’s also my cousin, so I feel safe with him. But this is the mob, and he’s the Don. I’m never that safe.
“It’s about the hits we got in,” I tell him in a low enough voice that no one else present is going to hear. Not that it matters. It’s our bar, and we know everyone in here.
“You need help? Tommy’s not enough?” he asks, cocking a brow. Tommy’s my brother, and he's also my second-in-command. Technically we’re both contractors for the familia. We only do hits, and we don’t bother with that other bullshit.
“No,” I say with certitude. I never need help. Hits are easy for me, in addition to being good money.
He takes a sip and licks his lips. “What’s the problem, then?” he asks.
“There’s one that I’d rather not do,” I tell him.
“Why’s that?” he asks, setting the glass down to face me with his shoulders squared. He’s in business mode. Right now he’s not a friend, and he's not my cousin. Right now he’s the boss.
“I want to make them an offer instead,” I explain.
His brow furrows as he replies. “I’m listening.”
“One’s a woman.” His eyes flash with sympathy. None of us like taking women out. It’s something that rarely happens, but when it does, we don’t like it. We make it quick and painless for them. Maybe it’s sexist, but I don’t give a fuck. I’ve tortured a lot of men for information. Never a woman though. That’s where I draw the line.
“They won’t let her walk.” His words are said with finality.
“I want to ask if they’d accept a substantial monetary offer from me to buy her.” I feel my blood rushing faster and hotter. No one knows about my perversions. I’m sure they can all guess. But I’ve never said a thing about my tastes, and they’ve never asked. They keep me on the edge of the social circle for the most part. I’m fine with that. It’s better that way.
“Buy her, and then what?” he asks with his eyes trained on the back of the bar.
“I want to keep her.” My voice is low, but steady.
“As a pet? As a slave?” Equal amounts of disgust and disbelief color his voice, and it almost makes me regret letting my dark desire come to light. Almost. But I want this. I want it more than anything.
“If that’s what you want to call it.” The determination in my voice rings out clearly. I’m sure my eyes look dark and absolute. I’m not ashamed of what I want. But I’m not willing to risk my position in the familia over it. Not yet, anyway. It’s been a week since I was given the hit. Each day my obsession with her has only grown. I cleared out a room for her already. In my head, she’s already mine. This is just a formality. But to Vince, this is a twisted sickness.
He looks me dead in the eyes as he begins, “After that shit Ava went through--”
I stop him right there and say, “This would be nothing like that.” My voice is louder than it should be, and the dark stare he gives me in return makes that clear. I settle in my seat and continue with a respectful tone. “I would never hurt her. Not like that. Not beyond any pain she didn’t want.”
“Ava said some days she would've rather been dead than been in that position.” My heart hurts for her. Ava’s a comare to a member of our familia. To Kane. He’s a good man. He saved her, and in a lot of ways, she saved him as well.
She went through a lot of shit. Her captors loved hurting her and humiliating her. She’s a strong woman to have survived all that. That’s not what I want though. The idea of doing that to a woman makes me angry. I’d never do that. Never.
“It’s not the same.” I reach for my beer and turn away from him slightly. He doesn’t understand. I didn’t expect him to anyway. “She’s already dead. She’s on their list.” I take a drink and then look back to him. “I’ll give her a choice.”
“Death, or