The Gun and the Rose

2 | Boss

 Alessandro's POV

I slammed my fist down on my desk, glowering down at the two men who stood, scared, in front of me.

"Yes, boss," they answered in unison, one's cheeks equally as red as the other.

"If you ever do that again, I'll have your fucking head!" I threatened, glaring holes into them. The taller man held his broken nose in his hand, blood streaming down his chin, matching the splatter painting my knuckles. I waved them away, grabbing a tissue out of a box to wipe my hands clean. I swore, noticing some of the blood on the cuffs of my shirt.

"My favourite shirt too," I muttered, getting angrier by the second. It was moments like this that made me crave a drink to calm my growing anger and frustration. The men who worked for me were good, loyal men, I had to admit. But, they had no respect for women, especially those who also worked for me. Ten minutes before, a maid ran into my office, tears streaming down her face. She had told me that two men cornered her in the hallway, offered her money for sex and when she declined, slapped her.

I was pissed. These are the same men that would jump in front of a gun to save my life and do anything in their power to prove their loyalty to me, yet they could not understand how to respect women? I had to beat the sense into them as if they were my own children. I pulled out a bottle of club soda from my mini-bar, taking a sip, embracing the familiar bitter taste that accompanied the cold beverage. "Bastardi," I swore, setting the bottle down on my desk. (Translation: Bastards)

"Ales?" 

"I have some new information for you."

I looked up from my drink, my eyes set on my closest friend. "What is it, Marco?" I asked. He set down a file folder on my table, spinning it so it faced me.

"Through the mole in the police, we found that there is an ongoing investigation for your identity," he said. "It's only two people."

I raised a brow.  "They were hoping to keep it low so we would not be alerted, no?" I asked, taking another sip of my drink. "Do you want one?"

Marco shook his head. "Yeah, to keep this out of our ears. But, that failed and now we're one step ahead of them." He opened the file, the first page a full background check on one of the investigators. "Aerion Walker. Age 36, single, lives alone and has been working for this firm for over ten years. Had a few girlfriends, but cheated on them all. Oh, and he failed the tenth grade." Various photos of him were attached as well as all other information about him that we could find.

 I turned the page. "Chi e questa bellissima donna?" I studied the picture of her, scanning her face. Thick brows arched over a pair of warm honey eyes, pink lips pulled up with a smile, brown locks of hair framing her face; she was the epitome of natural beauty. (Translation: Who is this beautiful woman?)

"Rosaline Acanti. Age 25, also single, but lives with her best friend. Adopted when she was ten by an older Italian couple. Been in and out of therapy in high school for an eating disorder. Also has been diagnosed with anxiety disorder and depression. Though, her medical records haven't been updated in a while," Marco said, reciting her file perfectly.

I held the folder, leaning back in my chair, stroking my chin thoughtfully. "She's too young to be on my case," I pondered.

Marco nodded, his blond hair falling out of its usual perfection."They recently hired her. But, I don't think she's the important one-"

"You're wrong," I interrupted, setting her folder down. I took another sip of my soda. Marco took a seat in front of me, sighing, waiting for me to continue. "She's young and inexperienced."

"And how does that make her important?"

"Simple, she's vulnerable. And that makes her an easy target," I explained, tapping her photo. Marco pursed his lips, nodding after some time. "I'm going to take this one on by myself."

 Marco scoffed, narrowing his eyes. "You want to waste your time on a new girl that's probably going to get fired?" he asked, incredulous. "What the hell, Ales, there are so many other things that you have to do-"

"You may be my Consigliere Marco, but I am the one in charge," I said, the thoughtful smile on my face gone and replaced by a hard glare. But I knew I didn't scare my friend and instead piqued his interest even more than before. "Don't question my decision."

"I'm here to advise you. So, take my fucking advice because I've known you long enough to know exactly what you're gonna do," Marco said. I rolled my eyes, drinking the last few drops of my soda. I set it down, once again agitated because my bottle was empty. "Don't go near this girl. Let me handle it-"

"No-"

"She is trouble and you know it!" he snapped, his cheeks flushing an angry shade of scarlet. I played with the cap of my drink with my fingers, brushing the tip of my thumb back and forth across the sharp edge of the metal.

"You told me she wasn't the important one," I argued, my eyes falling back to the picture of her. She was definitely important. I had it all mapped out in my head. I was going to make her trust me, confide in me and use her for information. Feed her false ideas to lead her astray and learn about her progress to further my own agenda.

"Okay, I admit. I can see why you're interested but this isn't morally right," he attempted to reason. Marco wasn't going to change my mind and I could tell he realized that as he grasped for straws. He was always the nicer of us two. He cared about what people thought, their feelings and impacts our actions would have in their lives. If I knew any better, I would replace him as my Consigliere because he was too soft. My underboss, Lucian, never liked Marco much either, due to the same fact. But, he was my oldest friend. A loyal, trustworthy friend and loyalty like his was rare in the family.

"We're the mafia. Our morals were low in the first place," I replied, deadpanned. "Why are you still here arguing with me?"

"Tu sei un bastardo," he spat, rubbing his hands through his hair. I smirked, enjoying his perplexed state of mind. "Fine, do whatever the hell you want. But when something goes wrong, don't come to me!" Marco finished his thoughts and stormed out of the room. He was the only one that was allowed to disrespect me like that. (Translation: You're a bastard.)

My thoughts returned to the beautiful woman's photo that stared back at me. I touched the pad of my finger to the picture, tracing her face. I was bored with the same old business every day and I craved a new game to play. 

And it seemed like Rosaline was going to be my new favourite toy.

A/N: I don't speak Italian so my translations are definitely incorrect and I am happy to take any criticism from native speakers!