Smoke and secrets | 18 +

XXV

-Victoria's POV-

I left Arabella upstairs because I got a call from Francisco, a higher level guard in the house, that my someone was waiting for me in stanza five and that my nonna had arrived.

I had to organise a meeting for tomorrow with my main team to really come up with a proper plan on how to handle this without Sicily or my team getting hurt badly.

On the other hand, I know this call was for Grey, has to own up to hurting Arabella, I don't let offenders live in my house scratch free.

My nonna was one of the greatest mafia women alive. She retired when my mother turned 21 so my mother could take over but she was still very much feared.

Even to this day, people are more scared of her than anyone.

Candela ran most of Europe alone. She didn't have a right hand person because she didn't believe in trusting someone who had the potential to hurt her for their own gain. She owned Spain, Portugal, Greece, Albania, Belgium and Cyprus.

She had inventive ways of killing people, she always complains that nowadays it's too easy, you use a gun and all is well. For her, she had death by allergy, poison, even carbon monoxide gas.

My nonna was the definition of death by a thousand paper cuts.

No one liked her and she was one hell of a bitch.

I reached the lower levels and stepped one foot out of the elevator before I was stopped by Grio.

"Capo, it is the American." He said to me in a lowered voice.

"Which one exactly?" I asked him, even though I could've already figured out the answer.

"Greyson Paulman. Physical violence inflicted onto Ms Wilson. Francisco and Alzaro have started like requested." The moment the words left his mouth the only thing I could think about was having him bruised the same way he bruised Arabella.

I walked past Grio heading to the doors  of stanza five.

He sat in a chair, a blindfold and a single light held above him. He was already bleeding from his upper lip and the side of his cheek was split.

I took a small moment to look around the room, a table filled with already set out weapons, rubbing alcohol and vodka.

Of course, four guards included Grio in each corner of the room. My nonna stood in front of him. In her usual mafia leader fashion.

There she stood in a pair of black heeled boots. Black leather pants and a black long sleeved top. Her silver hair tied to perfection in a bun. She might have been freshly 71 but she still looked good.

Like always when we handled business together, I wasn't to talk to her like she was my nonna, she was simply candela.

"Victoria, togliti la benda." She spoke harshly.
(Translation: take the blinded old off.)

I get that from her.

I did as she said.

He gasped as the blindfold came off his face.