Page 85 of Scarred King
“This is my place. The bar is mine. The club is mine. The chairs you're sitting on are mine. So, get off your asses and get the hell out!” I scream.
Mariano stands up. “Stinking pathetic bitch.” He mutters and slides his hand over my shirt. He stops on my chest and grabs hold of my breast. “You dare talk to my father disrespectfully, huh?”
“Yes!” I spit dramatically at the same spot Carlito spat at a moment ago and raise my chin defiantly.
“Then I’ll fuck you right here in front of everyone, so that you understand that you’re just a whore.” He twists my arm and bends me over the table. Giovanni smiles to my face and I can’t see Carlito’s expression. Mariano starts lifting the layers of my skirt and I quickly raise them too.
He slaps me on the butt and laughs. “You want it, huh?”
I manage to get hold of the pocketknife seconds before he tears my panties off. My hand moves forward and I stab the knife hard into the hand in front of me, which is adorned with several gold rings. Giovanni’s scream is deafening, and Mariano lets go of me immediately and looks at him in panic.
“Mariano, get the fucking knife out of me!” he shouts in pain.
“Stop crying!” Carlito hisses furiously and stands in front of me. He raises his hand and slaps me hard. My head jerks back and I sway on my high heels, but I manage to keep my balance and pull myself upright.
“Wow!” I laugh madly, “That was a perfect demonstration of the energy preservation law,” I say and Carlito stares at me blankly. “Your son wanted to screw me, I screwed his brother, and then you gave me one straight in the—”
“Shut up!” Carlito snarls and slaps me again, this time on the other cheek. It’s harder for me to maintain control now. I really want to cry, but I bite my lips and stand upright again.
Mariano pulls the knife out of Giovanni’s hand, and he screams hysterically.
“It’s time to teach the bitch a lesson,” Carlito says in a voice that makes my blood run cold. He takes brass knuckles out of his pocket and fits it over his fingers.
“Oh God…” I mumble and close my eyes. “I haven’t even finished my degree,” I whisper dizzily but I snap out of my daze as a deafening shot sounds behind me.
I whirl my head around. One of the Italians’ bodyguards has been shot in the forehead and he’s lying dead on the floor.
“You broke the truce and forgot to tell me?” the owner of the German accent sounds amused and I look at him in astonishment, trying to understand whether I’m dreaming or if he’s really standing there smiling in a pressed gray suit.
“We didn’t break any truce.” Carlito is furious.
“Then why are you trying to take down one of ours?” he raises an eyebrow questioningly and then cocks his weapon again and shoots another bodyguard casually. He too collapses on the floor like a rag doll.
“We came here to claim ownership and this one got in our way.” Carlito looks at his dead bodyguards lying on the floor, mutters a curse and removes the knuckles. “You know the rules change in situations like these.”
“Charlie,” Ralph turns to him with a wide smile. “Was the bar abandoned at midnight?”
“No,” Charlie answers. He raises his hunting rifle and aims it at the Italians. “Elena… I mean the Duchess, had already taken over.”
“I see.” Ralph says quietly, cocks his weapon once again and shoots the third bodyguard in the forehead.
“Enough with the shooting,” Carlito raises his voice and Ralph walks over to us.
“What's wrong, Giovanni?” he fakes a concerned tone, “Did Daddy’s little boy scratch his hand?”
I turn my head toward the sons and stare in horror at the blood pouring from Giovanni’s hand. Mariano is pressing the open wound with napkins, trying to stop the flow.
“Shut up, you crazy German,” Giovanni answers and furiously tries to move around his brother. Mariano stops him and looks at their father.
“We are not done here,” Carlito says as he returns the brass knuckles to his pocket. He walks past me towards the main entrance with his sons following. “The truce will be over in a few days, and then you'll feel my anger.” Mariano opens the door for him, looks at me again and spits on the floor. “I look forward to seeing you again.” He smiles icily and the door closes behind them.
Before I can even breathe, the door opens again. Three men enter and remove their friends’ bodies.
I place my hand over my heart, close my eyes and murmur a prayer of thanks. When I open my eyes, I see an amused look on Ralph’s face.
“Where were you?” I ask wearily and sit down at the round table.
He narrows his eyes at me, inspects my clothes and sits down opposite me. “I disappear for one day and you become an aristocrat?”