Belong To Her

Two: Camila

New York City. The City of Crime.

Before everything, I had never imagined myself as a crime boss. I enjoyed the simpler things in life much, singing and dancing to Disney songs with my little sister, gossiping about boy band members with my childhood friends, playing catch with my Papa in the backyard, cooking with my Mama in the kitchen.

That all changed when they died. An accident. That's what the authorities had deemed it. A drunk driver ran them off the road the day of my 11th birthday. They had been coming to pick me up from school, and we had planned to celebrate with pizza and bowling. I remember waiting for them for hours outside of the school. They never showed.

A social worker had been called in to tell me the news. She brought me to the hospital to say my final goodbyes whilst she waited for my next of kin. Uncle Tony showed up half an hour later with a bag and a promise. He took me in, he took care of me as if I were his own. He wasn't really my uncle, just my dad's best friend but he was as good as blood.

He told me the truth when the authorities wouldn't. It wasn't an accident. My family's death was intentional, and it had all been orchestrated by one man. Uncle Tony promised me revenge. I intended to take it.

That's when we moved to New York, and Uncle Tony began to teach me the trade. I was 12 when I managed to pull off my first drug deal, I was 15 when I killed my first man, and I was 19 when I became the leader of my own crew. At 20, I was one of the most feared crime bosses in underground crime. No one stepped towards me, no one questioned my leadership. This was my city, and I owned every inch of it.

No one stepped foot in this city without me knowing. Uncle Tony assured me New York was the perfect base of operations for me. He came here every few years on business, and now he had even more of a reason to show his face since he's opened a building in Manhattan. He'll be in New York soon, and when he arrives I'll be able to take my revenge.

Until then, I was politely advised to keep my head down and stay out of trouble so that I'd be able to have my chance. Though, I hated being told what to do. I heeded my Uncle's warning. He'd let me know when it was time. He promised, and he kept his promises.

Until then, I had a club to run and brackets to maintain. Someone had to keep the money rolling in.

"Are you even listening, Scar?"

I lifted my gaze from my glass of brandy, quirking an eyebrow at the exasperated look on the face of my second, Lauren, who sat across from me at my desk.

"No," I stated simply.

Niall, my third, snorted as he tossed an arm over the back of Lauren's chair, crossing one of his legs over the other, "Where's your head at, boss?" the Irish man questioned.

"Planning," I said as I leaned back in my seat, "What were you saying?"

"Tommy Santerelli's been selling snow to the kids in Manhattan," Lauren said, and I lifted an eyebrow silently at her words.

"Has he now?"

"What do you wanna do about this, boss?" Niall questioned as he sat up slowly.

I rubbed my chin silently, my eyes narrowing silently as I thought about the best course of action. I looked at Niall, "Find him and bring him here, lock him up downstairs until I'm ready to take care of him."

"You got it, boss," Niall nodded as he rose to his feet, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair to slip it on.

"And Niall," I called after the Irish man as he made his way towards the door. Niall turned to look at me, "Be sure to treat our guest kindly," the corner of my lips curled upwards, and Niall grinned slyly.