Gray and Green // Michael Gray

Abused Power

Tommy was pacing in the living room of my house, holding a hand to his face as he contemplated what I had just explained to him.

Michael sat beside me, debating on whether or not to hold my hand or not. He looked at me with such mesmerizing eyes- one's that made my heart ache when I looked at them. They gave such a reassuring feeling, I wasn't really aware of Tommy's temper brewing in the room.

"I-" Tommy looked at me, sitting against the table with a drink in my hand. It was 8 in the morning and I was already through my first glass.

Lenora came into the room, watching Tommy pace around like a madman. She raised an eyebrow, looked him up and down, then turned on her heel in annoyance.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!?" Tommy's voice yelled in my direction, making me raise my eyebrows and widen my eyes.

"Tommy!" Michael said, looking at his cousin in disapproval.

Once his gaze had dropped the craziness about 20%, I looked him straight in the eyes. The now gray eyes who had lost all their light.

"Don't you ever speak to me like that. You're lucky I even told you." I spoke in a monotone voice, making sure my voice didn't raise like Tommy's.

"Anna, you use the term 'Vendetta' very loosely." His lips curled in a thin line. Squinting his eyes at me. "That's not good." He condescended me like a child.

"Tommy, it took you ten years to get an empire. It took me four. Who do you think knows more about the New York Mafia?" I asked, keeping my posture composed as I poured a second drink.

"How the fuck would you know anything about the American Mafia's? You're what? Twenty-fuckin-three?" He lit a cigarette, making me stand up and take it out of his hands, crumbling it and letting it flutter to the mahogany table.

"You do not smoke when you're in a room with me." I looked up at him, crossing my arms across my chest.

"I have a stockbroking business on Wall Street. The most successful one in America at the moment, Tommy." He eyed me carefully, still looking at the crumbled cigarette on the table. "Everything Illegal goes through Lucky Luciano or the Sicilian Mafia. I think I know quite a lot about the Mafia."

Michael looked at me for a second, then took his gaze away from me. His eyes wandered the room, trying to find the most expensive pieces in here. He thought it was foolish to get involved with me.

"I could get an opposing Mafia here, one that Changretta despises." I looked at Tommy. "But 70% of the cost is coming out of your pocket. You started this."

He laughed, pacing the room again. "My fucking fault," i murmurs, pouring himself a drink and taking it all in with one motion. "He killed my fucking wife, Anna!" He yelled again. Strike two.

"Leave." I sipped my drink, looking at him calmly. "You've made it clear you want Changretta to go after the both of us." I laughed a bit. "I won't put my people at risk. You will."

"Your company supplies our guns. You'll be at risk either way." He said.

"I can stop whenever I want to." I looked at him as my lips met my glass, downing the liquor completely. "Seems you have a dilemma, Tommy."

He clenched his jaw, looking at me. "You're young. You don't know what this can do. He wants to end our fucking bloodline." He leaned on the table, looking me straight in the eyes.

The state Tommy and I shared said things that no words can describe. My eyes told him that my people were more important to me than him. His eyes told me that he needs me for this Vendetta to be as small as possible.