i got you.

2 | Feel My Wrath And Extreme Self - Doubt

EMERSON

I could practically taste the anger that radiated off of them. Every single one looked ready to pounce and it was like fuel to my fire.

"Did I stutter?!" I said, my voice raising slightly as I looked between all of them, "Put your guns on the fucking floor before I blow your fucking heads off of your fucking necks." I was ready to French fry these little fuckers. While I had no issues with the Italians, it would make things trickier with Joseph.

They all looked to Dante. The girl looking more... desperate. Like she had reason to attack... it was intriguing. But as he eyed me, and eyed the situation... he nodded to them. Each taking out their guns from various holsters: ranging from shins to waistbands, and placing them on the ground before kicking them away.

"Bitch." The girl muttered under her breath as she kicked her gun away. I managed to catch what she said, snickering at the word.

"You know." I began keeping my eyes on Dante and Joseph, "I'm beginning to get the feeling that you don't like me..." I said with a cheeky smile.

The girl scoffed, the sound alone would be enough for me to put a bullet between her eyes but considering the situation I decided on tightening my jaw. I wasn't exactly used to people acting with such disrespect... for obvious reasons being I'm hot, intimidating and a Mafia princess.

"And I'm beginning to get the feeling that we won't just kill you for breaking and entering but for pointing out the fucking obvious too." She spat, my breathing hitching slightly at her words. They planned to kill me... and I couldn't help but chuckle at the prospect.

"Oh darling, many have tried..." I glanced at the girl quickly, looking her up and down before looking back at the boys. "I will say though, you look stunning in that dress..." I couldn't see it, but I could feel her reeling back at my response. She probably expected a rise out of me, a comeback that'd start a verbal war... but instead I flirted. Which alone gave me a higher and fearless ground.

My name, first and last, is an international fear. My kills are legendary, not to toot my own horn or anything. However, where a lot of people tend to go wrong when faced with me is that they assume that my physical training is all that is useful in a fight or confrontation.

And with that, they couldn't be more wrong. I wasn't just trained physically, but emotionally and psychologically too. After all, I am my fathers heir. Handling myself in negotiations and business related meetings is half the job.

All the nerves from earlier had transformed into adrenaline. It was like magic. And it's given me the power to complete my life's goal... kill my mothers killer. Joseph fucking Wentworth.

"How come you have more balls then these guys here, hmm?" I questioned the girl, curious as to why none of the others had spoken up. I had some time to kill while my people gathered weapons from the guests, we needed to make sure that no one intervened when I took my shot.

Her demeanour changed, from the one that I supressed with my flirting to the one she had before. Rage. Anger... it was a trend around here apparently.

"I have my reasons." She spoke with attitude, her voice lowering in volume slightly...

"And they would be?"