Page 43 of Claiming the Mafia Queen

I shake it away.

There’s no way what I’m feeling is love.

I don’t know the meaning of it.

The sky is dark with an ominous sort of look. Like it was about to storm.

But I didn’t care. I knew Donny Colombo was the source of this music. Happy Birthday, Asshole.

There’s some men standing next to an apartment building and big speakers are set out on the streets. Even in a shithole like this, I can’t believe police aren’t shutting it down. But I guess they figure they’d rather have music than shootings.

But then again, maybe the police were scared of the Colombos, too.

“I’m looking for Donny!” I yell out over the music to the two goons standing outside.

Large buildings hover above me, and faint sounds of honking thunder around me.

“Who’s asking!?” The fatter of the two demands.

I smirk. “Tell him Madam Rosa…”

The fat one looks at the skinny one. “Madam?” He chokes in laughter looking me up and down.

“Yeah, I’m a real fuckin’ queen, big guy,” I say harshly. “Just get him.”

“Wise guy…” the skinny one trails. “You hearing’ this guy?”

“Is he deaf?” I ask.

The two men look at each other like it’s the first time they’ve ever been insulted.

“So, you’re just lookin’ for trouble…” the fat guy states. I smirk. At least he’s not as dumb as he looks.

“You haven’t told Donny that Madam Rosa wants to talk to him…”

Just a bunch of street thugs.

Where did the Colombos find guys like this?

They’re clowns.

“Just get the hell out of here, before we kill you…”

I laugh. “I’d love to see you try…”

I was hoping my voice would be menacing enough to cause them to lunge at me.

I needed to prove to myself that I wasn’t soft.

The skinny one walks up to me, his mouth moving angrily, but I can’t hear the words coming out of his mouth anymore, over the music in the speakers blaring out loudly. He swings and I grab his wrist. “I said get me Donny,” I mutter through gritted teeth, twisting the guy's hand until I feel it snap against my fingertips.

He screams in agony and falls to the ground.

I kick him square in the face, blood spurting out of his mouth and nose.

He crumples, face first, onto the pavement.

“Now, fatass, get me Donny!”

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