Breaking Tradition

Chapter Two

My breath hitched in my throat as his finger came closer and closer to the trigger. My eyes widened as I prepared to jump to the side.

To my surprised the other Italian guy spoke up. "Davay Yacov. Back off ona, veroyatno dazhe ne ponimayu, chto proickhodit." ("Come on Yacov. Back off she probably doesn't even understand what's happening.") He spoke to the man in fluent Russian that I easily understood.

"Da ya ne ponimayu, chto eti sluchai zapolneny s oruzhiyem i narkotikami, i chto eto mafiya delo." ("Yes I don't understand that those cases are filled with drugs and guns and that this is a mafia deal.") I spoke just as fluently back, though I realized much too late how stupid the action was. I had  bad habit of proving my worth at the worst possible times.

The Russian guy looked angry while the other guy shook his head on agitation. "Why you!" He spoke in English as he held the gun up and towards me again.

He pulled the trigger and I jumped to side. I was too slow though, I felt the bullet graze (I say graze, it took a good chunk out of me, but it didn't embed itself in my body) against my skin and the slow oozing of blood began. It was a strange feeling, a mixture of heat and numbness.

I was slowly losing consciousness after several minutes of laying there stunned, my world turning black. The last thing I saw was the Italian group taking out the Russian group.

I was about to give in when the arrogant Italian guy came over and started to pick me up. After that was a complete blur.

◆●■ 3 HOURS LATER ■●◆

I woke up a few hours later in an unfamiliar place on an unfamiliar couch. I tried to sit up, but the bandages around my torso stopped me from doing so.

Looking around the room I noticed that the walls were a light grey with black trimmings on the edges. The furniture in the room was red and plush making it pop. I looked around to see that the door was behind the couch and a pool table was to the left of the door. The dark hardwood floor was also adorn with a plush grey rug that matched the walls. In front of the couch was a coffee table that matched the floor and across from that was two chairs that matched the couch. To the left of me near the far wall was an open doorway which I figured was the kitchen from the black and white tiled floor.

Looking across the way was a longer table, enough to fit six people, with four chairs on the longer side and one chair on each of the ends.

I was still studying the room to find that my hat was thankfully on the coffee table and my shoes were underneath the table. I heard the sound of a door knob turning and did my best to see who was entering.

I still couldn't sit up all the way but I was able to prop myself up enough to look over the back of the couch.

The Italian guy from earlier stood there with his arms crossed, and looked at me with a furrowed brow. He casually walked over to me and sat down on the other end of the couch. He no longer had on a tie and his top two buttons were undone. He didn't have on his jacket either so he just looked like a regular guy, but I knew better.

His dark hair was slicked back accenting his features. He stayed silent for a while. I felt awkward to be honest, especially since this is most likely either his home or their head quarters.

"You are quite a stupid woman." He said quietly with a smirk playing on his lips. I was totally taken aback by his statement as I huffed and tried to sit up. I was about to retort when suddenly a group of men barged into the room. About ten of them entered, some playing pool, others went straight to the kitchen.

I watched curiously at their loud banter as they joked around and goofed off. My father's gang is nothing like this. They are always so serious and uptight. I turned back to the man to see he was also watching the men, except he looked a tad bit more serious.

He cleared his throat loudly and the whole room went quiet. "Oh, um, hey boss..." One of the men said quietly as they took a sudden interest in their shoes.

"Out." He said as they all began to walk out the door. I was used to harsh tones and people obeying orders but it still made me cringe.

As soon as the others left the room it was completely silent, other than the sound of the kitchen workers turning the oven on and the clanging of pots and pans.

"The name's Zachary Ruso. I'm the leader of the Italian Ruso branch of the Fiery Tigress." I nodded my head still trying to comprehend the situation I got myself into.

"And you are?" He asked as he leaned forward some. "Laurel. Laurel Aquil-" I was about to give away my identity but decided against it. "Laurel Aquil-Busca."

I used my mother's maiden name and part of my real last name in order to stay undercover. With a raised eye brow he stared at me. I wasn't the slightest bit nervous and faced him straight on with my expressionless mask.

"Well then, Laurel, you owe me your life." He said as he stood up and faced his back to me. 

"Excuse me?" I asked as I tried to stand up but failed. It wasn't the injury that held me back, it was the bandages. They were wrapped too tight and too thick to the point that it was hard to move.

He sighed as he sat down and gestured with his fingers for me to turn around. I followed orders and turned around as he began to unzip my dress to unwrap the bandages.

Once he finished I fixed my clothing before stretching and standing up. "Well Mr. Ruso, thanks for the hospitality, but I must be on my way." I grabbed my hat as he grabbed my wrist.

"Listen to me, Miss Aquil-Busca, you not only have received my hospitality but you ruined a very important mafia deal." He said as he lightly pulled me back down on the couch.

"So you're going to do as I say when I say. There will be consequences if you don't listen." He took out his gun a second before putting back in his pocket.

"So, if you don't mind, why don't you make yourself useful." He said as he walked out the door. I was left there on the couch.

After a few minutes I stood up. I was a little light headed but decided to walk in the kitchen. The clanging of pots and pans continued as I took a quick peek into the room.

It was a complete mess as three men rushed to try and fix some food. I cleared my throat causing all the men to stop and look at me.

"Um, do you guys need some help?" One of them was still bending over getting a pan while the other two looked as if they were having a kitchen fight since they were in a position to throw the pans they had.

"Uh, yeah, sure." One of them said and I walked further into the room. I grabbed some vegetables and noodles and began to cook. I needed a pot so I walked over to one of the men and took it off of his head. They stood there silently and watched me cook.

I finished about half an hour later with a big pot filled with spaghetti. "Oi! Dano! Are ya done yet with the food or are we goin' out again?"

A man that sounded half drunk asked outside the kitchen and the three men looked at each other before glancing at me.

I rolled my eyes at them and grabbed some bowls and silverware as I walked out the room. About five other men were outside the kitchen as the watched me walk over to the table.

"Set the table please." I said as I handed the silverware to one person and the bowls to another. I turned around and walked back into the kitchen and grabbed some shredded cheese as I motioned for the other men to grab the pots filled with noodles and sauce.

I sat down at the not so neatly done table and the others followed suit. We said grace and they immediately began to dig in. I myself didn't hesitate since I haven't eaten anything all day.