Penelope Levine has been "promised" to notorious mafia boss, Brock Rumlow, in order to pay a family debt.
The night before her wedding, she meets James Barnes, the owner of Underworld, one of the most infamous nightclubs in New York. Their spark is...
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CW:Gun violence, blood, descriptions of violence, descriptions of dismemberment, Russian roulette, drug use, smut (fingering), violence against women.
A/N: Every time I read a Hades-inspired Bucky fic, I think, "Hmm, he's not crazy OR mean enough" so I amped it up. You will see hints of Oleander James in here, and that's perfectly fine!
More notes at the end.
Rumlow. Brock fucking Rumlow.
How could she be marrying Brock Rumlow?
There should be steam coming out of James's ears.
Rumlow is the worst of the worst. James is a vicious killer, but Rumlow is a fucking animal. He has no respect, no decency, no sense of self-doubt. He's too old for this business. He thinks he's Marlon fucking Brando in the Godfather and that's all wrong. The game is different now, but Rumlow has been playing the same hand in a 20 year poker game.
And he's wrong for Penelope. All wrong.
The more James thinks about it, the angrier he gets. It begins to consume him over the course of the night. James knew he had to get the fuck out of that bathroom or he would do something he was going to regret, something that could get him killed if he were sloppy about it. He has to be meticulous and precise.
He has to be the hunter he was born to be.
The second he saw Penelope, the attraction was instantaneous. It was like everything else fell away, and it was just the two of them in the club, staring at each other.
And her gorgeous fucking cunt? Well, he'd like to be buried in that forever. He can still smell her perfume. Lilacs, fresh berries, and a hint of spice. James bites down hard on his bottom lip just thinking about it.
The second he walked out of that bathroom, he told himself it wouldn't be the last he saw of her, and he never breaks a promise to himself.
James sits in his office on the third floor, watching the security cameras as he twirls a knife between his long, tattooed fingers. They're adorned with rings, mostly from his father, but he found a few choice pieces from some men who met an untimely death in the back of Underworld.
A woman with long red hair rubs his shoulders and kisses his earlobe.
"Who are you looking for, darling?" She whispers.
"Don't call me that," James retorts. It's soft and gentle, but a command nonetheless.
Dot has grown too comfortable around him, and her presence has begun to irritate him immensely. She thinks she's going to be around for the long haul, but the truth is, James has grown bored with her. She's beautiful, but there's not much there. Dot is a little dull, and far too stoned for his liking most of the time. She's also only after him because of a deal James has yet to make with her father. He wants a cut of the business from the club, but little does he know, that James doesn't share anything. Dot wants to rule his kingdom and assert her place as Queen, but James has no interest in a woman who leads with an iron fist.
