Anger is a secondary emotion

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How Carmin managed to find her way back to the city was a miracle in its own. The fact that she went to work the next day was another miracle. She didn't sleep a wink the night before. She could still fell the metal against her head. The hatred in Lucien's eyes. She didn't sleep. Instead she grabbed the gun in her desk drawer and sat on the couch. Ready for the moment the don of casa Moretti entered her home and finished the job.

It was Antonio who greeted Carmin as she entered the office. She wouldn't look him in the eye, strange behavior for the consistent assertive individual she was. He knew Lucien had took her but he doubted he would do anything to harm her so why was she so dismissive?

"Ms. Grey?" he called out, following her to her office, confused by the lack of good morning. If Carmin was one thing it was consistent. She liked her schedule. She said good morning everyday. To everyone. Today, she walked silently. Another strange occurrence, her hair was down. Carmin's hair was never down. Always clipped back or in a bun, occasionally braided, but never down. It made her look younger, look her age. 

Carmin glanced up at Antonio once she entered the lilac office, "Yes?" She questioned. Her expression hit him in the gut. It wasn't cold or blank. No calculated smile. No kind eyes. She looked defeated. An expression Antonio had never witnessed on her face.

Antonio was quick to shut her office door, "What happened yesterday?" He asked gently, as if she was an injured animal.

Carmin lowered herself into her chair. "Uhm, the usual run in with a mafia boss I suppose." She tried her smile but it didn't seem to stick today. So she tucked some hair behind her ears and scooted her chair closer to her desk, logging into her desktop.

Antonio sighed, falling into the chair in front of her desk, "And what does that entail?" He questioned, tilting his head to the side.

Carmin glanced up at him with anger, "You should know Mr. Greene, no? Guns, bruises, and threats? I did quite find amusement over the threat of blowing my brains all over the Bugatti, the bullet trajectory wouldn't have allowed that to happen." Her voice was laced with something he had never heard from the woman. Pure, unbridled, hatred. And a underlying note of fear.

Antonio kept his face clear of any concern, "He threatened to kill you?" He rose a brow in question.

Carmin glanced at him for a mere second, "No the kind gentleman took me for tea after he braided my hair at the coffee shop." Her fingers glided across the keyboard as she responded to emails and typed out notes. Carmin was quick to bury herself in her work. Antonio was quick to help her.


"YOU PUT A GUN TO HER HEAD!" Dante shouted, throwing his hand into the air, "She's a lawyer Lucien, she knows how to win my case without breaking omertà, she's been consistent on the notes she gives me, she knows how to lie and when to. YOU are impulsive and estupido! I may not be the don but I will take care of this mafia, I know how to make decisions. I know how to judge people!"

Lucien sighs, "You should have communicated that."

"Shut the fuck up, grow the fuck up, and ask next time." Dante falls into the couch, covering his face, "She's going to quit. I don't think I'm going to win if she quits Lucien."

The older brother shrugs, "Then I'll just-"

"You will do nothing." Dante mutters, sighing, "I'll fix this."

It was Antonio who called Dante, though both men thought it was Carmin resigning. "Hello Antonio, what's up?" Dante put the phone on speaker and reached forward to set it on his brothers oak desk. Italian oak, too expensive if you asked him.

"She's spiraling." Was the kind introduction Dante received.

He shot Lucien a glare and let out another sigh, "How so?"

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