Insatiable Crimes

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• 5 •

X E N A

“I need you to tell me everything you know about Capo Dei Capi. Now.”

Caleb froze for a fraction of a second, before an easy grin played at his lips. Except now, it was pinched at the end with uneasiness.

My face gave nothing away of my new revelation.

“Did you make up that word just now?” He rolled his eyes, turning his attention to the laptop in front.

I wasn’t having one bit of it.

Not blinking twice, I snapped the screen close on his hand, eliciting a surprised shout out of him.

“I can break your hand in five different ways, with it still buried between, Caleb,” I rose a bored brow. “Do not tempt me. Not today. Not ever.” Holding his hand down threateningly till he met my eyes head on. He needed to know that I was not playing around. Nodding quickly, he brushed the reflex tears from his eyes using his other hand.

Pleased, I put off the pressure on his hand, but kept my hand right there. As a slight warning, perhaps.

Removing my hand from his laptop, I waved the wide-eyed bartender with a delicate turn of the finger.

He did not hold eye-contact. Instead, he made himself busy with keeping the Pinot Noir glasses in front of us.

The tension was palpable, concrete enough to cut with a knife.

Pouring the wine in the tall glasses, spilling a few drops, with all the trembling. I sighed irritably. As soon as he was done, he nodded politely before shuffling away hurriedly.

Downing half the glass in a go, I sighed in bliss. The luscious blood red liquid splashed in its confines, matching my nails admirably well.

“Now,” A dazzling grin lit up my face. “I believe you were about to tell me about our Capo.”

“If I knew that’s what you wanted to talk about, I would have never agreed to this talk.” His tone wasn’t biting. It was scared. Pupils dilating and expanding, the dry ice smoke from the club highlighting his hysterical features.

What was going on? I wanted to shake him by his shoulders. “You’re not making any sense. Breathe.”

His chilly hands gripped mine, unyielding. I stilled.

My body felt as if it was lying on a bed of iron nails; harsh and merciless, and with each prickle of pain, the wind was knocked out of me.

“You don’t want to mess with him.” Caleb hurriedly spoke, his eyes frantically around us.

Hands. Hands. Hands everywhere. Voices won’t leave me alone.

“He has ears everywhere. He is everywhere.” Caleb continued, his eyes dead locked on mine.

“Let. Go. Of. Me.” I gritted out, bringing our adjoined hands against the table, hard.

The impact knocked him out of whatever trance he was in.

Refusing to make eye contact, he opened his device, slender fingers tapping against the keyboard. On a shut-down laptop.

My eyes flared, heart thudding against my chest claustrophobically.

I pushed his glass of wine towards him, but he shook his head as if I scalded him. “Water? Is the place too crowded? What is happening, Caleb?”

His pupils kept on expanding, his breathing getting heavy.

“I-I d-don’t drink.” His fingers were now slamming against the keyboard. “I can help you today. But promise me you won’t include me in this mission of yours.” Panic stricken eyes met me above the Mac.

I saw an offer and took it. “I promise.”

Chewing his bottom lip, he shut his eyes. “I am on the run from them.”

Running from gangs was common. I nodded my head, wanting him to carry on. The suspense was killing me.

“From who?”

“Refill?” A voice rudely interrupted. My eyes met irritated brown ones. Someone’s got a stick up their arse.

“The wine here sucks, so no.” I easily lied. My father always kept the best alcohol in his clubs.

He didn’t walk away. “Water?”

“Too plain.”

“Whiskey?”

I looked up at him closely this time. Brown eyes, grim face. But there was something else. His face was roughened up, and the lightest shades of bruises marred his skin.

Makeup. He used makeup to hide the bruises. He could just be a fight club member. But Xena wouldn’t be Xena if she didn’t overthink a million times.

Curiously, my eyes sought out the place. Turns out, four men were tuned into our conversation with tensed frames.

Four men who were trying to keep up their cover, but miserably failing.

From my peripheral vision, Caleb’s face was blank. Unsettled. His eyes met mine, and flared by a fraction. He was trying to tell me something.

A chilling feeling set up in my spine.

The Capo had struck again.


“I don’t want anything.” I looked up at him with sultry eyes. “Except for your company.” Leaning back with an air of nonchalance, I brought my six-inch heel clad foot up sensually, my eyes never leaving his, dragging the other seat closer to me.

I could feel Caleb burning a hole into my head. I turned to him. "How about I meet you outside?"

Studying me for a second he nodded, before grabbing his laptop. He turned back to me.

I wanted to roll my eyes. I knew how to take care of myself, for fucks sake.

Finally leaving, I turned back to my conquest. “Join me?”

An order in the form of a request. And why ever would he deny?

He complied almost instantly, a crooked grin tugging at his lip. According to him, I just made the job easier for him. That I was just a dumb bitch in lust who wants to get laid.

Well, I did want to get laid, but I had my standards.

Newsflash asshole, I was going to frame your dick as a trophy.

I turned towards his seated frame provocatively, giving him a direct view of my cleavage.

At least he had something good to look at before his death. How I loved doing charities.

“What’s a sexy thing like you doing here?” He leaned in close to me, letting his breath dance on my cheek.

Cigarette breath. I tried not to grimace. And let’s not forget getting objectified.

I imagined burning his skin with a cigarette butt. That was enough for my smirk to rise again.

“What does it look like I’m doing here?” I counter questioned, waving to the bartender. I needed something strong if I was going to flirt with this guy.

“Two of whatever she says. It’s on me.” My neighbour spoke confidently.

I raised my brow. “Harsh liquor. Anything.”

“Make that bourbon.” He added in. I nodded in acceptance. Not later, two glasses were pushed in front of us.

My manicured nails gripped the sides of my glass as I wagged the glass watching the amber liquid slosh.

Then throwing my head back, I took a sip. I found the man staring at me. Amusement flickered in my gaze. He expected me to gag at the taste.

“So, what’s your name?” He bluntly asked taking a gulp of his drink.

“Ana,” I responded. One of the things I was glad the mafia life had taught me was how to lie properly. No itch in the eyes, no fondling the hand. Just a blank lie that no one could tell apart.

“Blake.” He introduced himself in return, eyes twitching. Liar.

With my eyes trained on him, I brought my glass up, wrapping my lips around the rim, taking a gulp. My tongue made an appearance, sweeping the wet liquid off my lip slowly. Deliberately.

Smoky.

“So what do you say, Blake?” I shifted closer to him, but I doubt he noticed while ogling my lips. “Want to get out of here?” My hand lazily played with my hair, twirling random strands.

His stool scraped back immediately and he stood up, looking at me. My hand toyed with my glass one last time as I swallowed the remaining liquid. “Let’s go.”

And let’s pretend he didn’t pass a look to his 4 other buddies.

omg i can't wait to give y'all the next chapter. wait, let me write it first tho. i've changed so many things- my mind is bursting with ideas. just don't die in shock OOP

follow me on instagram for chapter teasers! @wordxflirt

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