I do nothing. I watch him, dead in the eyes, same blank face, as he runs up to me, slowing down more the closer he gets. I hold out my hand, palm up, and say nothing.
The worker stands there, looking worried and nervous, as the whole room stares at him. I can see the sweat trickle down his brow, and then he hands over the stiletto he has.
I point at the table, he puts his hand down on the table, fingers apart, and waits. I slam the knife down on his ring finger, severing it at the last joint on it. He screams, then I cut off the last 3 inches of my tie and wrap his finger in it. I point back to his chair and say "sit back down." I can feel the whole room staring at me, a mix of respect and fear.
"Are we in understanding?" I ask again, my face still blank.
A hear a yes here and there, a few nods.
I yell "I asked you all a question. Are we in understanding." In a deep voice, projected around the whole room.
"Yes, sir!" I hear yelled back at me from the room.
"Good! Now let's get down to business." I say, a grin spreading across my face.
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comment what you think about the stories and parts! it'll help me out to see what i'm doing wrong and let me know that people like it, and that i should keep writing!
What happens when you're in the wrong place at the wrong time?
She is just at the beginning of her year-long world travels when she falls into the hands of him - an Italian mafia Don driven by the thirst for answers and revenge.
When there is something else thrown into the mix - obsession. But is it the healthy kind?
--
"I can see it, you know," he continues, his voice as smooth and dangerous as the edge of a blade. "The fear you're trying so hard to hide. The way your hands tremble ever so slightly, the way your breath catches in your throat when I'm close like this."
My hands instinctively curl into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms as I struggle to maintain control.
He tilts his head, studying me like a predator sizing up its prey, his proximity suffocating. "You should be scared," he says, the words laced with an unsettling certainty. "Because when I'm done with you, there won't be anything left of that defiance you're so proud of."
A shiver runs down my spine. "I've faced worse than you," I manage to grit out, though my voice is barely above a whisper. "And I'm still standing."
His lips curve into a sinister smile, a glint of something dark and twisted flashing in his eyes. "We'll see how long that lasts."
"Let's go."
"No."
--