With This Ring

The signature sound of the Zippo lighter opening and closing fills the tense silence between his sobs and pleas. The scum drug dealer's eyes can't decide where to focus: on mine, on the lighter, or on the gold signet ring on my right hand.

I flip the lighter open again. This time, I let the flame dance long enough to catch his attention. He's so silent while he watches that I can hear the hiss of the gas.

He swallows hard, making his Adam's apple bob harshly. I don't hide the joy that brings me. He's heard of me. He knows what's coming next. And he's terrified. As he should be.

I snap the lighter shut. He jumps at first and then tries his hardest to exhale slowly so he doesn't seem like the scared little bitch that he is.

He starts to relax. His frame sinks against the chair until I start twisting my ring. He immediately perks up. His spine straightens. His feet slide forward as if he'd actually have a chance to dart out of here. His eyes shift frantically from the ring to the lighter to the exit to my men blocking it.

Tired of this game, I lean forward and ask, "So which one is it then?"

"Wha-what?" he asks.

His eyes snap back to mine. He looks frightened enough that I believe he's truly lost; he truly forgot why he started begging for leniency in the first place. God, I'm so sick of these amateurs they've got doing business for them now.

"Do you not know the fucking difference between the lower east side and two bridges or did your fucking boss give you permission to move through neighborhoods?" I ask again.

"I...I-" he starts to stutter while he works through which would be worse: to throw his boss under the bus or to piss me off.

"Per l’amor del cielo (for the love of God)," I grumble. "What's your name?" I snap even though I'm trying to be nice. Or at least nicer than I usually am. "Your real name," I clarify as soon as he opens his mouth. "Not some dumbass street name."

"D-donnie," he stumbles over his own name.

For fuck's sake, maybe I would be better off sending him back to his fucking boss so he can deal with the bumbling idiot he chose to hire and save myself the headache. This kid's not built for this shit.

It'll be a nightmare to have to toughen him up, but that's nearly as much of a nightmare as sending him back freely to tell everyone about how we caught him fucking up the map and just released him. Can't let the boroughs think they can all start doing whatever the fuck they want.

"Listen, Donnie," I start. I do my best to sound friendly since he still looks like a fish out of water. "It's simple. Did your boss tell you the boundary or not?"

"Yes," Donnie whispers like he's scared of his own answer.

"Well, that makes this easy then," I say as I flip the lighter open again.

I lean back in my own chair. It gives Donnie enough false confidence to relax. My brother Giovanni has Donnie's wrist in his hand before he even realizes it. It isn't until his hand is being flattened on the table in front of us that Donnie's eyes go wide.

"No, no, no," Donnie begs frantically.

I slide the gold signet ring off my hand and hold the face over the flame. I ignore his bargaining tactics while I let the metal heat. There's nothing this scum could offer me to reverse my decision.

"Thank you," Donnie sighs once I've closed the lighter.

"For the job?" I ask with a quirk of my brow.

There isn't enough time for him to respond before I press the heated face of my ring against the base of his thumb, branding him as a servant to our family. His mouth drops open in silent pain. It's a relief from the loud begging and pathetic crying that was starting to give me a headache.

Giovanni releases his wrist once I'm done. Donnie keeps his hand flat all on his own. He stares down at the red mark that will blemish his skin for years. The mark that will serve as the countdown to his freedom.

"Welcome to the operation," I grin at him.

I would welcome him to the family, but he's not one of us. He works for us now. Not with us. For us. He'll have the chance to stay once his mark has faded, but he'll never be fully accepted or trusted considering his induction.

"Nico," I snap to get the attention of my other brother. "Fill him in on his new position. I'll let his boss know he's accepted a new role."

Panic fills Donnie's eyes. He's probably worried about that girl he was blubbering about. I should rescind the offer and just take him out if he has that little faith in me.

Every operation I allow in this city knows they're second tier at best. His former boss knows I won't stand for retaliation for poaching his runner. As much as I don't want him and don't trust him, he's still a member of my organization now. An attack against him is an attack against all of us; an attack no one in this city can afford.

Giovanni joins me when I stand. Guards fall in step behind us. We make our way towards the front of the club, back to the table we were enjoying before that unfortunate interruption.

I text his former boss to let him know of the headache he's caused me. I don't bother calling. It isn't a conversation I'm looking for. I don't need anything from him, not even an acknowledgement. The fact that I'm letting him know at all is a courtesy.

"Can we get another bottle?" I ask the blonde sitting next to one of my men at the table.

She goes silent but doesn't immediately acknowledge me or even get up to do her damn job. I roll my eyes as I slide in behind her. I'm aware it'll prevent her from getting up like I requested, but I see that I'm not done making points for the night.

She finally turns to look at me over her shoulder. I'm caught off guard by the annoyed look in her eyes. If I wasn't mirroring the same emotion right now, I'm sure I'd be able to appreciate the stunning grey color.

"Are you asking me?"

She finally speaks, and I almost wish she hadn't. Her defiance irritates me, even more since I'm returning from dealing with incompetence. I'd rather the rest of the night go smoothly, but she seems to unknowingly be testing the rest of my resolve.

"I'm not asking him," I reply. I tilt my chin towards my capo.

She looks at him. Then back at me. Then back at him again.

"Is he serious?" she asks him.

My jaw ticks. I feel the last of my resolve breaking. I've already turned towards Giovanni to have him fetch the owner, an associate of ours, to deal with his bottle girl when my capo decides to speak up.

"She doesn't work here," he says.

It does little to lower my anger. Her giggle ticks me off.

"You couldn't say that for yourself?" I ask her.

Her head whips back towards me. "It's my fault you think all blondes are bottle girls?"

"You had your pick and you chose his ass, but I'm supposed to think you're not just flirting for tips?"

Normally, I wouldn't rag on my guys in mixed company like this, but I don't feel bad about it since he didn't step in earlier to prevent me from looking like an idiot.

Anthony is the highest ranking member in our absence, but I don't think she knows that. With the way she's talking to me, she obviously doesn't know who I am.

She didn't pick Anthony because she's looking to work her way through our hierarchy. Nothing against the guy, but girls who are oblivious to our dealings normally go for the soldiers at the other end of the table. That's why they get an invite when we go out; to attract girls.

My logic isn't wrong here, but her eyes still sparkle like she can't wait to tell me all the ways it is. Lucky for her, the actual bottle girl finally reappears.

"Besides, everyone knows the best girls here are brunette. Isn't that right, Layla?" I ask, turning my attention to the bottle girl that I already know is blushing before I even see the pink tint on her cheeks.

"Thank God, Layla," Nico says as he joins the table.

Her blush deepens enough that I wonder if I could make her whole body pink while she's moaning my name.

Nico slides onto the couch beside me, scooping Layla up on the way so that she's forced to sit in his lap. She tries to hide her giggle.

"Nico, you know I can't," she protests even though she makes absolutely no effort to get up. "I'm working."

"Can you work on getting us another bottle?" he asks while brushing her curls back from her face. "These assholes left me on babysitting duty," he complains.

"Then, I guess you should have stepped up to do some of the actual work," I tell him.

I hope he realizes Anthony has an outsider sitting on my other side. I hope he's not stupid enough to say anything direct. I hope I don't have to put my own brother back in line in front of all these people.

"You two had it," Nico scoffs.

"And you wonder why I'm in charge," I mutter under my breath.

Nico's too busy with Layla to respond. His hand trails further up her thigh while his lips move up towards her ear. He whispers something raunchy enough to make her cheeks nearly crimson. She still looks flustered even after he's basically pushed her off his lap so she can fetch us another bottle.

We're both watching the way her ass sways in her tight shorts when a couple of girls get in the way of the view. I nearly groan in protest when I see them approaching the table. They look too much like a headache.

"Aspen," one of them says.

Aspen?

"We're going to head to the next place. Are you coming?" she asks.

Figuring she can only be talking to the girl who seems to be adamantly opposed to being confused for a bottle girl, I can't help but turn to judge her reaction. I hope she leaves with these girls even though I can tell they're not good friends. If they were, they wouldn't give the option for her to stay behind with this many strange men. Good friends or not, I hope she goes with them before I'm forced to deal with her any more tonight.

"Of course," Aspen says.

I must not do a good job of hiding my relief because this Aspen girl cuts her eyes at me angrily. Just for that, I decide to stay seated, blocking her in. She looks at me expectantly. I eye the small gap between the edge of the table and my lap. She could maneuver around the edge with no contact if she tried. She wouldn't even have to touch me if she didn't want to.

Anthony rescues her from the predicament. He pushes the soldier on his other side until there's enough room for him to slide down the couch. This gives Aspen enough room to slide between the two tables without having to climb over anyone. Still, she brushes against Anthony and swivels her ass in his face while making her exit.

Anthony is so love struck that he doesn't see the smirk she throws my way. That wasn't a show for him. It was for me. If she thinks I'm jealous of some pilates princess from what looks like Tribeca, then she really doesn't know who I am. I'm eager to keep it that way, so I don't acknowledge her little stunt.

"What's got you more heated right now?" Nico asks once he's done watching her leave with her little posse. "Donnie or Aspen?"

"You think I give a enough of a fuck about her to be irritated by her?" I do my best not to snap at him so he doesn't get the wrong idea and think I care. "There's at least fifty other girls just like her in this club right now."

"Then pull one," Anthony challenges me, obviously upset that I've devalued the girl he took interest in.

"What, like you?" I challenge right back as a reminder that she left.

I might've missed the beginning of their conversation, and she might've grinded her ass on him on her way out, but I didn't hear any mention of future plans. She's just another girl using her looks to secure a place at a table she didn't buy until the next thing becomes available.

Layla brings the bottle to us without any fanfare since she knows how much I don't like the display. Who needs an entire parade and the attention of the whole club because you bought a measly bottle of alcohol? Pathetic really.

I take a couple shots straight to help cut the edge before finally pouring one with the mixer to drink slower. There are plenty of girls around who look just like that Aspen chick from earlier. Makes it easy to select one from the crowd to prove my point.

She's practically crawling in my lap while trying to whisper seductive things in my ear by the time I'm on my second drink. Her whispering isn't that good. Maybe she's just trying to combat the noise. Maybe it's the strong scent of vodka on her breath. Either way, the entire section of the couch can hear about the way she apparently wants to please me.

It'd be easy to take her up on her offer, but I like more of a challenge. I pass her off to Anthony as something of a peace offering. She barely notices. By the time I've located my real prey for the evening, she seems to have forgotten all about me. I quickly forget about her too while I get lost in a brunette I picked specifically to show the rest of these jackasses how much Aspen didn't get under my skin.