“Gentlemen, thank you for being present tonight,” Yves started as rounds of drinks and cigars were passed around to the council members.
The usual pleasantries ensued and I assessed the room with quietness, taking inventory of those who appeared forcefully relaxed. If there was a plan to remove me from the picture, I wanted to be five steps ahead so I could eliminate the rats.
“The real question remains: is Zeno ready to be our seigneur?” Claude De la Croix, Yves’s middle-aged cousin and a pain in my fucking ass, stared at me with a smug smile.
I glanced down at my seigneur ring.
Claude and the rest of the slimy cousins salivated at the sight of it.
“Zeno has been prepared for many years,” Yves retaliated. “He’s well-established, respected, and feared in the underworld. My son has managed to grow our distribution channels and expand our businesses tenfold in North America. We have connections with various crime syndicates in the country and our shipment volumes have increased exponentially in the last decade, courtesy of all the work he has done. Zeno has brought glory to the De la Croix name with twenty years of servitude. His dedication to our cause and loyalty to our family is unparalleled. There is no one else who can bear the responsibilities of seigneur as well as him.”
“And he is now married too,” Jacques chimed in to my defence.
Michel agreed, trying to settle the lot. “There is no reason to delay this any further. Zeno is ready.”
Now I just needed the blessings of the rest of the room.
It was blanketed in silence.
Claude decided to open his fat mouth, the smug glint in his eyes heightening. “I don’t know if he’s as ruthless as he claims to be. There are rumours that his wife has…softened him.”
Yves froze and met my stare.
Frederic and Charles, Claude’s twin sons, chortled like it was the funniest thing ever. The latter spoke, “A man who is led by his wife’s pussy is not a real man.”
If there’s one thing I hated more than people who underestimated me, was people who disrespected me.
Calm as ever, I grabbed my gun and aimed it at the twins, raining bullets with no warning. The two dumb fucks slumped into their chairs with mouths agape and holes in their foreheads.
Everyone watched the scene unfold with bewilderment.
Especially Claude, who’d gone pale with shock.
I stood up and buttoned my suit jacket, cocking my head at the thirteen remaining men. “What was that about my wife turning me soft?”
Claude gulped.
If he even attempted to move, the next bullet was his.
All the other men fell into line, their faces darkening.
“I’m here for a reason.” I walked around the circle of men. Their backs were stiff as I passed behind them. Their heads did not turn, but I noticed their eyes trekking my movements. “And whether you like it or not, you will address me with the respect I have earned.” I grabbed Claude by his scruff and he trembled. “If you wish to be under my regime, I have a set of rules that we can go over once the initiation is complete.”
Then I slammed Claude face-first into the coffee table to make a statement.
The glass surface shattered and he screamed bloody murder.
“My first rule is simple: don’t ever fucking talk about my wife,” I growled. “Is that understood, gentlemen?”
The fear on their faces was palpable.
Yves watched me with a proud glimmer.
An attack against my wife—their seigneuresse—was an attack against me and I would not tolerate it.
One of my second cousins, Guillaume De la Croix, decided he was brave enough to go toe-to-toe with me. “What if we don’t want to work under your regime?”
I never liked him, so he wouldn’t be missed.