Chapter 3 Obey Or Bleed

The room smelled of power and fear  an intoxicating mix that Celine Moretti had grown addicted to. She didn't sit. She didn't smile. She didn't wait to be acknowledged. She walked into the Commission's private chamber like it belonged to her because it did. Eight old men in tailored suits turned their heads. Some pretended to sip wine. Others adjusted cufflinks or shifted in their chairs, trying not to appear rattled. But they were. Every single one. At the head of the table sat Don Alvise, face stretched into a politician's grin. But his eyes? Cornered. Angry. "You weren't invited, Signora Moretti," he said smoothly. Celine didn't even glance at him. She ran her hand along the glossy marble table as she walked its length  the clack of her stilettos the only sound in the room. "I heard there was a vote. About my leadership. About my future. I thought it'd be polite to crash my own execution." A few of the men chuckled nervously. Don Alvise didn't. "Your methods are causing unrest," he said. "Giovanni was a respected man" "He was a rat." Celine's voice cut sharp. "And now he's a corpse. The streets are cleaner already." "You executed him without our approval." She stopped walking. Leaned forward slightly, her black leather gloves creaking as her knuckles hit the table. "Let me be clear. I don't need permission to exterminate vermin. I don't need your votes. I don't need your approval. I built this empire from bones and betrayal. I earned this seat with blood." Don Alvise's smile cracked. "You forget your place." Celine straightened. Slowly pulled a folded photo from her leather jacket. Slid it across the table with two fingers. A grainy image. Don Alvise's nephew  strung up in a rival gang's warehouse. Eyes wide. Mouth gagged. A warning. "You forget yours," she said. "Cross me again, and I'll have your own blood mailed to you in pieces." Gasps. One of the younger dons stood but quickly sat back down when her eyes flicked to him. "I see we're all aligned now," she said, snapping her jacket closed. "No one woman can rule alone," Alvise said coldly. Celine paused at the door. Looked over her shoulder. "Who said I'm alone?" she whispered. And left. The moment she stepped into the hallway, her phone vibrated in her pocket. Unknown number. Message: You're not the only devil in Naples. She stared at the screen. Her lips parted into a slow, cold smile. "Good," she whispered. "I'm tired of eating prey. Let's see how a devil tastes."