My Desire for the Mafia King

Anabelle Alfonso

They say a woman is powerful when she knows exactly what she wants. In this case, I knew exactly what I wanted and I was going to make sure I got it. They made me into a deadly weapon, taught me how to kill and I would use it to kill them.

I looked at my computer to make sure my coordinates matched up with the club I was heading to tonight. The red dots blinked twice, indicating that the shipments had just left the warehouse and were now heading to the club. I went through the plan in my head again, tracker, in, truck, out. Then I'd have a pinned location on my target.

Well, hopefully, if he hadn't caught on already.

I would do far worse than torture that asshole once I got my hands on him. I'd make him hurt in every way possible and take his organization down with him. I was so close to making him pay now after all these years.

I took the straightener through the last strand of my dark curly hair that fell a little past my hips, checking my makeup in the mirror again. I slipped my black heels on, grabbing my black clutch purse and black trench coat before I grabbed the strap that held my gun and knives, clipping it onto my thigh. I had decided on a black dress with a slit going up the side for tonight. The first step I took out of the room I stopped at the picture frame I had sitting on my side table. It was the only picture I had of my family. I stared at my beautiful mother's smile and the way she hugged my three brothers and me. With love.

A fire started to spread throughout my body, making me clench my purse tightly. My nails were digging into the thick fabric, making the desire to end the life of the person who took everything away from me even stronger than before.

With one last glance at the picture, I walked out of the door and made my way down the hallway of my apartment building in New York. I lived on the highest floor because I liked having a view of the whole city. It made me feel like I could see everything.

A couple walked past me in the hallway, the girl not making any eye contact with me as her boyfriend checked me out, winking. I rolled my eyes.

Asshole.

My heels clicked against the marble floor as I stepped out of the elevator and into the luxurious lobby of my apartment.

"Hello Miss Alfonso, you look lovely tonight," Jona, the apartment's doorman, greeted me with a smile like he always does. He was retired from the military. He stood there all day greeting people in and out but still managed to put a smile on my face every time I walked out of the elevator.

If he only knew the trouble that I got into, he wouldn't be talking to me.

"Hi Jona, thank you," I greeted him back with a smile.

"Heading off to another fancy club? Who's the lucky gentleman tonight?" he asked. I've told him from time to time that I go out to clubs to have fun and he believes me, I mean, I am twenty-two.

What fun is it to sit in your apartment all day?

I wouldn't say what I do is fun, but typically, when I'm dressed nice and heading out late, he knows I'm going out to a club or elsewhere so he doesn't ask much.

"Yeah, something like that and I don't belong to anyone cuz I don't think anyone could handle me," I answered him and he laughed at my statement. I waved goodbye to him as I headed out the door. The cold air stuck to my skin making me shiver as the wind blew through my hair.

I made my way to my Mercedes, quickly getting in and starting the car to head to my restaurant first before going to the club so I could get the tracker from James.

Almost ten minutes later, I opened the door to my restaurant and the smell of carne asada filled the area. This restaurant was owned by my father but now it was mine. I made some- well a lot of changes to it, which was very fucking expensive, but I made good money off of it anyway so it evened out.

Chandeliers hung over every table and reflected off of them to the marble floors and the paintings that hung on the matching marble walls.

I spotted James, my best friend, at the register looking bored out of his mind until he spotted me, a smile growing on his face as I walked over to him.

"Where are you going looking that hot without me?" he asked even though he knew where I was going.

He leaned over the counter, his dirty blonde hair falling into his face causing him to push the mess back with his hand. I wouldn't lie and say that James was unattractive, because it was obvious to see that he was far from it, but we were strictly just best friends. Nothing had ever happened between us and we both knew that nothing ever would.

"Nowhere important," I muttered, rolling my eyes playfully at him as I went behind the counter.

"Do you have the tracker ready for me?'' I asked him.

James was a pro at computers and anything related to them, but he was a good fighter too. I met him when I was a teenager while I was still living with the Russians. He's been working for me here and helping me with other things. He's also the only one who knows what happened.

"I do," he said sternly, still standing there and not moving to get me what I needed. I grew aggravated at him and he fucking knew it. He just loved to piss me off knowing I wouldn't kill him.

"Okay, well move your ass and get it for me before I fire you," I said, and he just tilted his head, smiling at me. I hardened my glare at him and he dropped his smile, finally starting to move. He came back a second later handing me the tracker I needed.

"Thank you," I mumbled softly. "Did I ever tell you that you're the sweetest, James?" I asked, kind of feeling bad that I was giving him attitude.

"What are friends for?" he muttered, walking away while grabbing menus for the group of people that walked in.

"Be careful please," he told me while walking backwards. I rolled my eyes at him. He knows I can protect myself. I've been doing it my whole life.

I walked out of the restaurant and back to my Mercedes, starting it and heading to the club.

I decided to park a block away when I finally arrived, not too close and not too far, in case I needed to get out of there fast. The block was filled with people from the club, most of them drunk already. I took my trench coat off and decided to leave my purse, only taking the tracking device and sticking it in my bra.

Once I made it inside, it automatically smelled like cannabis and sweat. The music played loud enough that I could feel it in my chest.

Fuck, this was going to be a long night.

I scanned all the exits and looked for anything suspicious. I spotted a hallway in the back, probably a way to get to the backend of the club where the trucks would be loaded. Two men, not too big but not small either, stood in front of the door blocking it. If I needed to, I could most likely take them down easily. I looked at the upstairs section, quickly scanning for any other men who looked like they'd be working for a mob boss.

I spotted some on each corner as I made my way to the bar, not thinking I'd be able to do this sober.

I ordered two shots of vodka, eyeing the bartender to make sure he didn't slip anything in them in case he recognized me, but he handed them to me untouched. I took both and then turned around as I leaned against the counter so I could get a better look at my surroundings.

From the corner of my eye, I saw a man a couple of feet next to me ordering a drink. I glanced at him not noticing his presence till now. I didn't even see him when he walked up.

He had black hair that fell in his face as he leaned down against the counter. I could only see his side profile, but from what I could tell, he looked like the finest guy I'd ever seen in all my twenty-two years of living. He had on a grey suit. A skull tattoo sat on the side of his hand and a skull ring on one of his fingers. He glanced at me and we made eye contact. There was something warm in his eyes that I couldn't put my finger on.

From that moment, it was like a fire started between us. I blinked, trying to shake the feeling away. He scanned down my body and then back to my face. I started to feel a slight nervousness take over me at his stare, but I didn't break eye contact. I stared into his brown eyes and took in the features I couldn't see from the side. He looked young, maybe in his early twenties. He studied my face for a little longer before I decided to speak.

"You can stop eye-fucking me now," I mumbled to him and I watched as a little smile peaked through his face and gosh he was gorgeous.

He laughed quietly and looked away, but I still stared at his beautiful features. He suddenly turned his body around to face me and then stared at me more, eyes raking down my body effortlessly. Not caring that I told him to stop looking at me.

His eyes seemed to see right through me, burning into my own and through my dress.

I looked away, trying to ignore him. I needed to focus on why I was here.

I spotted two guys standing on the other side of the bar and then another slipping in on the opposite side all wearing suits. I took a long look at all of them. Two of them had brown eyes like the guy next to me and dark hair, except for one guy who had blueish eyes and lighter hair. I looked back to the guy that I just had a staring contest with and came to the conclusion that they were here together. Maybe?

They were most likely working undercover by the way they looked at each other without speaking.

I wondered if they were here to kill me, but no one knew how I looked so I didn't worry. I only worried about the Russians; they were the only people who had an idea of how I looked and the only ones who wanted me. I wouldn't be surprised if the Russians recognized me, but I honestly didn't care. I would love to kill them all.

The only reason as to why they could be here is if the Russians did something to piss them off or, of course, other reasons, but that was the only one that came to mind.

They didn't look familiar or looked like they were a mafia. I would've known. So, I guessed maybe a low-ranked cartel? Or people that wanted power, but the guy next to me seemed like he had enough of that already.

I knew of one big mafia in New York, but that couldn't have been him. Could it?

This was the only place that the Russian's men and trucks would be at tonight, except for the boss, but it was close enough to get information on where his location was. And that was probably what they wanted. After all, the Russians had a lot of enemies and I couldn't keep up with all of them.

I looked up at the back doors and noticed that one guy was missing. The other looked me straight in the eye before looking away quickly, like he didn't want to catch my attention, but he just fucking warned me.

Idiot.

I quickly scanned the rest of the club and saw a couple of guys staring straight at me. I looked upstairs and saw a guy walking down sharing glances with the other guys. I looked to my left exit and saw it was blocked and the right exit was being blocked too.

I looked at the mysterious guy next to me as he stared at me and then his gaze wandered off to where I was looking before he quickly glanced at the guys on the other side of the bar.

The guy who walked down the stairs headed towards me at a fast pace, making his way through the crowd of bodies.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Well, maybe if I hadn't been so distracted by the guy next to me, I would've noticed something was wrong.

"Oh fuck," I muttered and turned the other way quickly, walking fast through the sweaty bodies of people dancing.

I didn't get far before a guy stepped in front of me making me stop. I turned back around, but the guy who was already headed toward me stood in front of me with a gun pointed at my head.

Screams filled the club and people were quickly clearing out. I rolled my eyes at their lack of responsibility for their club. They didn't even care that this may get reported.

I stood in front of his gun as he pointed it directly at my head, but he didn't shoot. "You're gonna have to try harder than that, " I mumbled, knocking the gun out of his hands and sending it flying across the floor. Gunshots suddenly filled the small club.

I swiftly blocked his punches and then kneed him in his stomach. He hunched over in pain and I took my gun out from my strap and shot him in his arm, sending him on his knees screaming. I looked over to see the guy I stood next to at the bar behind tables shooting at people above us.

What the hell?

I tried to sort through my confusion, but I couldn't stand there all day so I turned around and quickly shot at two guys behind me who fell to the ground in seconds.

More gunshots got fired at me and I quickly rushed over to hide behind one of the tables. I ducked under the closest one and it so happens that I hid behind the same table as the man that distracted me. To be fair he was gorgeous so who wouldn't get distracted by a pretty face like his?

I rolled my eyes out of irritation that I didn't know him or what the hell he was doing here.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked me, as if he had just read my mind, while still shooting at the Russians like he did this all fucking day.

"Tell me who you are first and maybe I'll answer you. Even though that tone isn't gonna get you anywhere," I glowered at him, throwing his questions back at him, but he didn't answer, giving me a glare that meant death in so many ways.