XI

"I appreciate it, Nico. But I am more than up for the job." I speak, voice clipped and filled with dark rage. "In that case, you'll have to prove it." He replies with his accent making every word seem charged with importance.

"Why the hell should I prove myself to you?" I ask, standing up from my seat. Marco pulls me back into my seat with a tug and forces me down. "It's not just to me, Milana. It's to the entire Mafia." He replies, leaning over the table.

James shoots me a look as if to say 'what?'. I shrug my shoulders at him and mouth 'I don't know'. Most of the Cortez family seems unbothered by whats going on, they are more focused on the food than anything else.

"Nico, is that really necessary?" My mother asks. Her eyes scream concern and I flash her a smile in appreciation. "Yes. We need to know if she is prepared." He snaps in an irritated tone. My sister rolls her eyes at him, clearly bothered by his sudden announcement. My mother doesn't object any further and falls silent along with the rest of the room.

"What do I have to do?" I ask as I take another sip of my wine. "Not much. Just break a few bones."

His voice made it clear that he was very much serious.

***

*The next day*

Marco pulls the car onto a side road and turns to me, I meet his gaze with a confused look. "The location's right around the corner. It's a butchers shop." He says in a calm, unhurried voice. I step out of the car and start pacing around.

I can't believe i'm about to go and shake down a business.

"Don't tell me your having second thoughts." Marco says as he shoots me a cold look over his shoulder. I walk in front of him and tilt my head to the side slightly. "Don't be absurd. This is what it takes to become Don, right? I'm all in." I say. "Good, you need to prove to your family you can rule as your father did." He replies. "I know what I have to do, so stop trying to boss me around. I'll handle this MY way." I snap, slamming the car door.

"Only an idiot would tell you what to do." He answers back with a heavy sigh. His proximity makes it hard for me to pay attention to the words that come out of his mouth. "You did it a bunch of times. Does that mean you finally admit to being an idiot?" I ask with a touch of playfulness. Instead of biting back, Marco pulls out a gun and tries handing it to me.

"What are you doing?" I question, staring at the weapon in front of me. "You wish to be sworn as a Don? A don needs a gun." He says, pushing the gun closer to me. I lean into him closer. "Says who?" I ask. "Don't be so stubborn. You need to pass Nico's test." He snaps, almost freezing me under his cold gaze. I snatch the gun from him, turn around, and start walking to the shop.

I enter the butchers shop with Marco on my heels and see a furious man behind the counter. "Can't you read the sign? We're closed!" He shouts with a voice that could cut glass. "We're not here for the pork." I reply with intensity, making eye contact with Marco whose gaze is fixed on the man. "More Levine goons? That's just great." The strange man says, anger creeping into his voice.

He wipes his bloody hands on his apron and slams his knife into the counter. "What do you want? I already told you people, I'm not paying you anymore!" He yells. Marco leans into my ear so that the butcher doesn't hear him.

"You should do something to scare him." He advises. I look around and notice a few bottles of expensive looking wine. I walk towards the stash of wine and pick a bottle up. "Wait! What are you doing?" The man asks furiously. I smash one of the bottles down and hear the butcher gasp. "THAT WAS EXPENSIVE!" He yells, almost shaking the shop with how furious his tone was.

"Then show me some more fucking respect next time." I yell back in anger. "Respect is earned not given." The butcher expresses, willing the anger out of his voice. I take a few more bottles and start smashing them onto the ground. The wine starts running onto the floor, leading a trail of crimson tint along with it.

"What the hell!?" The butcher yells. I can detect fear in his voice, but also anger and curiosity. "Have I earned your respect yet?" I ask, extending my arm to grab another bottle. "Yes! Yes. Just tell me what you want!" He demands. "I want to know why you're refusing to pay protection money." I speak. "I already paid a lot of protection money. Where were your men last night when some Martínez goons smashed my shop window?"

Where have I heard that name before?!

When I was locked away in that box... I heard that name thrown around a few times.

Luca Martínez.

"Martínez's men were here?" Marco asks. His expression turns into a frown when the butcher nods in confirmation. I turn around and lower my voice.

"What do you think Marco? Do we spare him if he agrees to pay protection fees again?" I ask.

"I think it's fair and we can spare the man." We nod in agreement until something clicks inside my head.

"You're wrong. We have to show him not to mess with us, or the whole city will think we're soft." I say with authority. The butcher flinches overhearing our conversation. "Wait! I mean no disrespect. I will pay from now on!" He pleads. "Yes you will. I'll make sure of it." I reply, turning to Marco, my gaze cold and unforgiving.

"Trash the place." I order. Marco nods and begins to topple over the nearest shelf. "No one denies a Levine, remember that." He mentions, smashing the final bottle of wine. The butcher watches in terror as I begin smashing all the glass counters in the shop. I grin at him and topple over the meat fridge.

"Have we made ourselves clear?" I intimidate. "Y-yes, Ma'am" He replies with a mix of shock and fear. I look around in the wreck that has become the butcher's shop. "We're done here." I say, stepping over thousands of shards of broken glass.

Marco grabs my arm and turns me to face him. "He mentioned Martínez's men are here." He explains. "I have heard that name before. Who are they?" I question, pulling his hand off of my arm. "They are the gang running New Jersey, don't you remember? They shouldn't even be in New York." He explains as he kicks a broken bottle, releasing some ferocity. "What does it mean that they're here?"

I'm interrupted by three bulky men walking into the shop. "Who the hell are you?" The man in the middle asks.

These must be Martinez's men.

"I'm Milana Levine and this shop is under my protection. Who the hell are you?" I snap. "The ones that will cut open that pretty face of yours unless you get out of the way." He replies. His tone walked the line between bitterness and incredulity. "How about you come closer and I cut you open." Marco steps in.

"Deal, lover boy." The goon says savagely. The goons close in on me while Marco grabs a butchers knife and pushes me behind him. "I'll hold them back. Go." He demands, shoving me away from him. "I may be a bitch, but I'm not that much of a bitch to leave you." I snap, holding up my gun. "Levine's don't run" I add.

Suddenly, I hear a gunshot and someone starts wailing in pain. The butcher cries in agony as blood streams out his shoulder. I turn to help him but get tackled down.

"I'll make a fortune bringing your head to Luca." The goon claims. He wraps his hands around my neck and squeezes. I manage to build up enough strength to kick him in the balls. He falls back and lands on the hard floor and Marco keeps him down with a large blow to the head.

"Get up." He demands. I roll my eyes and stand up. Then, I look around and notice all three goons lying unconscious. I further notice the butcher leaning against the counter, applying pressure to his wound. "Go to hell!" He yells at me and Marco.

I turn around furiously, and poke a finger at Marco's chest. "What the fuck just happened? The man who attacked me said he was going to bring my head to Luca." I explain.

"Luca Martínez. Fuck. This can't be good. Martínez's men shouldn't be in New York." He says.

"On the plus side, you handled yourself well." He acknowledges while looking down at me. "I think I passed Nico's test." I reply. "Damn right, you did." He agrees. Marco looks at me with unbridled pride and I feel my cheeks getting warmer.

"Lets get out of here. Drive me home." I order.

"Bossy and demanding as usual" He expresses. I roll my eyes at him, and he impishly winks in return.

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