Page 12 of Mob Queen

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“Don DeLuca,” one of the soldiers says as he bows his head in front of me.

I turn to G and give him a knowing nod. G removes a thick envelope and hands it to me. “For the birth of your son,” I say as I hand Leon the envelope.

Leon’s forehead crinkles as he takes the envelope. “My wife and I appreciate this. Thank you.” He shoves the envelope into his pocket and straightens before shuffling away.

“Don DeLuca,” another one of the soldiers whispers and he too lowers his chin.

“Alfio,” G mutters as he leans into me.

“Alfio. My father would have appreciated you being here.” He too walks away.

Renato, one of the capos approaches me. He looks to me, then turns to my brother. “Don DeLuca, I’m sorry for your loss.” Renato holds his hand out to my brother to shake.

My brother’s forehead wrinkles and he straightens to his full height. “Don DeLuca is standing beside me,” my brother warns.

Renato glances to me, then back to my brother. “You’re not taking over?”

“No, he isn’t. I am,” I say as I pull my shoulders back.

Renato looks me up and down and sneers. He takes a sharp breath while still sizing me up. “Huh,” he grunts with revolt. “What a fucking joke,” he says loud enough to catch the attention of all the men in the house.

A silence falls over the room.

G moves to stand in front of me, but I lift my hand and place it on his forearm, stopping him from advancing toward Renato. “I’ll take care of it.” I move so I’m beside Renato. “You have a problem with me?”

“No offence, Frankie, but you’re a woman. What would you know about this? It’s a man’s world, and you should be doing what women do best.”

I place my hand on his back and lead him toward the bar. “Have a drink with me, Renato and tell me what your problems are with me leading.”

Renato adjusts his tie and looks around the room, feeling like he’s proud that he’s disrespected me in front of all my men. When we reach the bar, I hold two fingers up and the bartender pours us two scotches in heavy crystal glasses. “It’s not just me,” Renato starts. “Women are no good in this business, you’re too...” He lifts his shoulders before sipping on his drink. “Emotional,” he finally admits.

“We’re too emotional, are we?” I down my two fingers of scotch, and place the glass back on the bar. Tapping the rim so the bartender can pour another two fingers.

G’s moved to be behind me with my brother on the other side of Renato. “This is a man’s job. The other men, they don’t think you’re capable.”

“I’ve been underboss for how long?”

“Yeah, but ? ” He screws his face up and lifts his shoulders. “That’s because your father let you play dress-up with us big boys.”

Renato stands a head taller and has at least a hundred pounds on me. “Dress-up? Wow, so all the times I gave you an order, you didn’t do it?”

“Of course I did. But only because of life Don DeLuca, rest his soul.” Renato kisses his fingertips then makes a cross on his body. “He was one scary man, and no one would cross him.”

“Huh,” I say. I place my left hand on his shoulder. “Thank you for bringing that to my attention, Renato.” I look to my brother who’s moved back. “I understand what I have to do.”

“See, you’re a chick, and this ain’t for chicks.”

With my right hand I reach to the bar, grab my glass, and smash it against his temple. The glass shatters in my hand, and I feel some of it cut into my palm. I take the jagged edge and repeatedly slam it into Renato’s head. Blood splatters, but my anger has taken over. Renato collapses in front of me, but I don’t stop. I keep pounding the jagged sharp crystal into his head and throat. Every time I lift my arm to strike - blood spurts, covering me and anyone close by.

“Frank,” G finally says in a calm voice.

I stand straight and look around the room. Renato is gurgling while holding his throat, but he’s only seconds away from dying. I lean over his body and keep stabbing until his arms relax and all the life leaves his eyes. I drop what’s left of the glass, and stand to look around the room. “Does anyone else have a problem with me being the don?” I look each fucker in the eyes, waiting to see who’s got the balls to challenge me. They lower their chins, or look away from me. “No?” I move away from the piece of shit on my floor and head into the office so I can clean up.

“I’m done with him,” I say to G and purposely glance at Renato’s lifeless body.

“Dario, Carmelo.” G points to Renato.

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