Deadly Temptations

Chapter 2: I'm Coming For You

Kace Hollander's POV

I hate these types of events. The ones where I am forced to play the good, obedient son, and stick to my father's side all night, while he mingles with all his business partners, and I am to only open my mouth if they question the mafia.

Galas like this are completely useless, seeing as it's just a chance for my father to gain more allies and information on what's been going on through the underground. Hidden plots and scandals indirectly become the only use of events like this. Everyone here knows it, and everyone here pretends to act civil as hiding it. They're fucking idiots if they think they're fooling anyone.

But regardless, I've been attending events like these all my life, and I've been thoroughly trained on what to say, when to say it, and when to keep my mouth completely shut with my thoughts.

Usually in these situations, I'd pass the time by talking to my young brother, Preston, and teaching him a bit more about our business; telling him all about the people talking to our father and what their deals of interest are.

But he unfortunately couldn't attend tonight, and it doesn't help that my uncle, Jonas, disappeared with some chick a while ago. At least someone gets to have a good fucking time.

It's been hours into the event, but still the popularity diminishes no less. It's ridiculous how long these stupid galas can last for. 

My father is in the middle of another conversation with a member of the Greek Mafia. We seem to have no issue with them, so I take the opportunity to venture away to the bar and grab a drink.

My father follows soon after with a drink already in hand. He sits next to me and downs it in a look quite distressed.

"Everything fine with Greeks?" I ask before taking a sip of my own drink.

"Complicated situation. We'll talk about it later," he responds. "Is there a reason why you are here drinking instead of doing your job,"

"I don't have a job to do, Father. Unless you consider it being your little assistant follow around while you talk to the big guys."

"It's mandatory for the next heir to attend the galas. What would you rather be doing?" He asks with spite.

"Maybe preparing for the shipment tomorrow, or sending me on an actual useful job where I can use my guns. Standing around listening isn't doing shit," I retort.

"This business is not just killing and torturing. You need to learn patience with action-lacking jobs. That's what makes a good leader, Kace," he says, turning back to his drink.

He knows I'd make a good leader. I don't know why he thinks boring me to death with galas and lectures would make me want to become any better. I'm halfway through the glass of whiskey when the sound of steady heels clicking the floor takes my attention. 

I turn and see a woman in a long, tight fitted, dark red dress, with a revealing low cut and a high thigh slit. Her hips sway elegantly with her steps, alluring all the men around her as if in a trance. I scoff, it must be so easy for women leaders.

Her back faces to me and I only see her long, dark, hair. But it's almost as if she feels my stare when she sharply turns her head to me. Her eyes land directly on mine and—

Callero.

Lexa. Fucking. Callero.

The most deadly assassin the underground knows, heir to the Italian Mafia throne, and my sworn fucking enemy.

But she isn't like any ordinary enemy my family has, she is special. She's someone I want to watch slowly die and crumble down till there's nothing left of her. She's someone who I've dreamed of ending ever since I found out her true identity. She's someone who's death must be by my hands.

I've hated that woman for as long as I can remember—or at least—as long as I want to remember. Unfortunately, we had our little fun in high school. Before I knew who she was and before I knew how important her death would be to me. But that 'fun' faded quicker than it lasted when I found out that her father was non other than Lorenzo Callero, leader of the Italian Mafia, which has been trying to take down my American Mafia for generations.

Our fathers are sworn enemies. They both lead the two greatest mafias in the world. Which means that the former relationship I had with the Callero is an absolute fucking disgrace to my family name, and I would do anything to take it back.

Our little relationship was nothing more then a useless fling and I'll never regret choosing my family and blood over that woman. I'm sure she feels the same way. She made that perfectly clear when I found half the distant Hollander family with a red 'X' on their foreheads.

As for now, she is nothing more than a past fuck and a future kill. A kill that I will do anything to achieve.

Hell, I should shoot her right here right now. I don't care if this is a closed event and that I'd be sure to get shot by security. The only thing stopping me is the fact that a bullet to the head is a much kinder death than I've dreamt about for her. And I'd be damned to let that go in a moment of rush.

She scowls back at me, and I realize I'm gripping the whiskey cup hard enough to shatter at any moment.

But then she turns back around, and I see her small hand slither down into her thigh slit. She takes out a bloody knife for me to see, and turns her head to wink at me.

That isn't what I am most shocked at, though. It's a common fact that this is normal behavior for the Callero, through what I've heard about her after finding out who she is.

But what shocks me the most is the realization that she is the woman my uncle went upstairs with. And I know what they say, going alone with the woman with white hair is a one-way entrance to hell.

I shoot up from my chair and storm towards my father. He's in the middle of a conversation when I grab his arm and pull him towards the stairs. He angrily follows as I go through the hallway bursting open any door I can find.

It's the fourth door on the right where I'm greeted with a red bloody collision spread all throughout the floor and walls, ensuring exactly what I was suspicious of. My uncle sitting dead, tied in a chair, stabs and cuts surrounding his body, in a red dress shirt which was once white.

My fathers grunts out in anger more than sadness. He was his brother, after all. But in this life we live, we've learned that this sight isn't really much of a rare one. And that's why no one would ever see us moping over something as common as this.

Instead, my father rushes to him, not in despair but instead in fuming suspicion. I immediately know what he's doing when he lifts my uncle's head up to see his forehead, and it's no surprise that he caught on so quickly. Who else would be able to seduce a man into going upstairs, then torture him once in grasp.

"Lexa Goddamn Callero!" my father curses out, reading the scarred 'X' on Jonas' forehead.

He's clearly angry, but it's only due to the fact that Callero killed yet another one of our men. It doesn't hurt anything more than his pride, even if Jonas was his very own blood.

As for me, I'm not really affected at all. Yes, Jonas is my uncle, but I only see him during events like this, and I know he has his secrets which are probably what got him killed, even if I don't know exactly what they are.

But being the son of my father, the Callero messed with the wrong people. I will take over the mafia soon and I can't afford pathetic kills like this. My dreams to end her will come sooner rather than later, so mark my words, Lexa Callero. I'm coming for you.

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