Going After Heaven (Mafia Romance)

Chapter Four

"You can be the Emperor or the servant sleeping with the pigs, but everyone will face death, and when it comes, like today, you do not beg. You must not beg"

Those were the last words of my papa to me before I scampered under the dining table meant for thanksgiving and watched as the Black Mist Brothers put an end to the reign of an Emperor.

Those were his last words to me before they drew blood. Before they drew blood on a scale that can only be balanced with the blood from the veins of another Emperor.

Death will come to us all, but sooner for members of the Underworld.

As an Empress, I know the Grim Reaper has taken the form of my shadow. Lurking around my corner.

I know death is always with me. It is why I can access it freely to dole out to people. And now it's my time to receive.

I have known the Grim Reaper is a shapeshifter. For some, it takes the form of a drunk driver, a deadly virus, a decaying organ, a lover, a best friend, a stray bullet, a bully, an overdose, or even a bee.

Mine is here now.

His sleeves folded to show twirls of black ink from underneath his black button-up silk shirt to his knuckles. Sooty curls parked in a ruffled bun and amber eyes attempting to suck the life in the air out.

I was wrong, he's no Olympian god. He's Odin, the god of war and death reincarnated.

My side eye catches the sight of my gun on Gael's desk. And at this moment I knew I'm fucked.

I've always hated the plot around Greek tragic heroes.

I had thought them stupid, because no matter their strength, no matter the great kingdoms they conquered, it took one passive flaw to put an end to them. I'm acting out that script right now.

How else would anyone explain why my gun is away from me at this point?

I can reach for it, but if I make any funny move I'll die the death of shame and that is not the kind of death fit for an empress. For Acero.

So instead I sit tall, my poise more confident than ever.

His thumb, with a black Diamond ring around it, gently caresses the hammer of the gun, while his eyes never leave Gael's.

Tick. Tick. Tick...

The echoing sound from the ticking clock on the wall opposite me growls louder.

It turns out I was the one dancing to the beat of death. I made the killer move by pulling that trigger.

I take my cigar to my lips and puff. I won't beg. I won't grovel. It's not in my nature.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

It resonates, like the sound before a fall. Who knew such a sound can go before a fall?

Any moment from now those guns will go off and deliver death. Gael might get a good shot from under his mahogany desk but I'll be dead first.

I know I would be because I know how fast this Odin reincarnation is. How he swerved past my bullet was too professional to go unnoticed.

"What was that?" His deep luscious voice drawls, toppling Italian accented words with it.

He takes calculated strides toward Gael and I skip a beat. I wouldn't mind being dead. But I can't stand to watch another person I cherish so dearly die.

I was hoping by now Gael would be reaching for his gun, instead, he places both his palms on his desk, flask, and his cigarette between his fingers.

"I thought you might need the help" Gael smiles, a tight-lipped smile but still warm.