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SHE WILL

♧

DRAKE , LIL WAYNE

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I COOED AT Venom as she crawled from the back of my hand to my wrist, her tiny claws pinching lightly as she explored.

Albert had warned me countless times about the dangers of handling a scorpion this way. "You're tempting fate, Mrs. Genovese," he'd said, his tone drenched in exasperation.

But I didn't care. My entire childhood had been one long rebellion against being told what I couldn't do. Venom, with her sleek black body and menacing tail, was my new favorite way to irritate everyone around me.

I fed her a cricket, watching with fascination as she pounced on it, and blew little air kisses her way.

"You're a good girl, aren't you?" I murmured, grinning as her pincers twitched.

"Ahem."

I glanced up to find Soleil standing in the doorway. She was sharp and cold as a winter wind, her stance relaxed but her eyes always watchful. One of Antonio's youngest cousins, Soleil-better known as "Vines"-had earned her nickname after luring her raper into the woods and choking him out with vines she'd woven into a makeshift garrote. A little unhinged, sure, but weren't we all?

"May I help you?" I asked, not bothering to hide the disinterest in my voice.

"The trainees are back from their field mission," Soleil said, arms crossed.

"Alive?"

"Physically, yes."

"And I'm to train them now?"

"Well, yes, that is what they're here for," she replied, her tone tinged with sarcasm.

I sighed, tossing another cricket to Venom and watching as she struck.

"Hold her for me?" I offered, holding up my hand. Soleil's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Pass."

"I was joking."

The sound of heavy boots echoing through the hall pulled my attention away. I placed Venom gently back into her glass enclosure, her lid secured with precision. Albert had drilled the importance of keeping her safe and secure into my head, not that I didn't already know better.

I followed Soleil to the training area, where the trainees were lined up like nervous recruits waiting for their execution. The warehouse was as familiar as the back of my hand, its towering shelves and stacks of crates serving as both battleground and classroom. The air smelled of sweat, oil, and metal-a combination I found oddly comforting.

The trainees stood at attention, their postures varying from stiff to slouched. Some looked terrified, others cocky. Most, I noted, had no idea what they were doing.

"Congratulations on surviving your mission," I said, my tone as dry as the air. "That's the bare minimum expected of you. But let's not pat ourselves on the back just yet." I paced down the line, letting the weight of my gaze settle on each of them.

"Tell me," I continued, stopping in front of a wiry young man with a shaved head. "What did you learn?"

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "To...follow orders?"

I raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"Not to hesitate," he added quickly.

I nodded, then turned to Soleil. "What was his mistake?"

"Got too close to the mark," she said without hesitation. "Let his guard down."

"And what happened?"

"Got stabbed," she replied flatly.

"With?"

"A steak knife."

I turned back to the trainee, my gaze piercing. "You think a steak knife can't kill you? You think just because you're breathing now, you're invincible? If it wasn't for Soleil here, you'd be six feet under."

The trainee's face reddened, but he didn't argue. Good. At least he had enough sense to shut up.

"Listen carefully," I said, addressing the room. "Your enemies aren't going to give you second chances. They're not going to hesitate, and neither should you. Hesitation gets you killed. Sloppiness gets your team killed. And I don't have time to babysit deadweight."

I stepped back, letting the weight of my words sink in. Soleil smirked slightly beside me, clearly enjoying the discomfort radiating off the trainees.

"Now," I said, cracking my knuckles. "Let's see if any of you are worth keeping alive."

The trainees shifted uncomfortably, their eyes darting to one another as if trying to draw courage from the collective nervous energy in the room. I walked to the center of the warehouse, Soleil following close behind, her smirk deepening.

"Pair up," I commanded, my voice cutting through the silence like a whip. "Fast. You don't have all day."

They scrambled, bumping into one another in their haste. Some matched up easily, while others hesitated, eyeing their potential partners like they were weighing their chances in a fight to the death.

"Good," I said, once they'd formed a haphazard line of pairs. "Soleil, set up the sparring ring."

With a sharp nod, Soleil moved to a nearby stack of crates, pulling out thick ropes and poles that we used to section off an area. The trainees watched her, their tension thick in the air.

"This is simple," I continued, pacing in front of them. "You'll fight. No weapons. Just your hands, your instincts, and your ability to adapt. First rule: if you can't defend yourself, you're useless to us. Second rule: don't hold back. This isn't a tea party."

I stopped, letting the silence settle like a heavy fog. "The third rule," I added, my voice dropping, "is that I decide when it's over. You stop before I call it, and you'll wish you hadn't. Understood?"

A chorus of mumbled affirmations rose from the group.

"Louder," I snapped.

"Yes, ma'am!" they shouted, voices uneven but loud enough to satisfy me.

"Good. Let's begin."

The first pair stepped into the makeshift ring, a stocky young man with a buzz cut and a lithe woman with braided hair. They eyed each other warily, neither making the first move.

"Waiting for an invitation?" I called out. "Fight!"

The woman moved first, quick and precise, ducking under the man's swing and landing a jab to his ribs. He grunted, stumbling back, but recovered quickly, charging her like a bull. She sidestepped, her footwork smooth, and aimed a kick at his shin, but he caught her leg mid-strike and yanked her off balance.

"Better," I muttered, more to myself than anyone else.

The fight continued, messy and uneven but not entirely without promise. The woman had speed and agility, but the man's brute strength gave him the upper hand. It ended when she managed to sweep his legs out from under him, pinning him with a knee to his chest.

"Stop," I commanded, stepping into the ring. The woman stood, breathing heavily, while the man groaned on the ground.

"Not bad," I said to her. "But your punches lack follow-through. You're quick, but if you can't hit hard enough to incapacitate, you're just delaying the inevitable." I turned to the man. "And you. Charging in like that? Amateur mistake. Use your head, not just your fists."

Both nodded, their faces flushed with exertion and embarrassment.

"Next pair," I called, waving them out of the ring.

The training continued, each fight revealing a mix of strengths and weaknesses. Some had raw talent, others barely knew how to throw a punch. Soleil leaned against a crate nearby, offering occasional comments that were equal parts sharp and insightful.

By the time we were done, the trainees were battered and bruised, but alive. More importantly, they were paying attention.

"Tomorrow," I said, addressing them as they stood in a loose group, clutching their injuries. "We work on weapons. And if any of you come in with the same sloppy technique I saw today, I'll make you spar with Soleil. She's less forgiving than I am."

Soleil grinned, a wicked gleam in her eyes that made a few of them pale.

"Dismissed," I added, waving them off.

As they shuffled out, I turned back to Venom's enclosure, feeling the familiar weight of control settle back over me. This was my domain, my responsibility. And if they survived under my training, they'd be damn near unstoppable.

As the trainees filed out, Soleil stayed behind, her arms crossed as she leaned against a nearby pillar, watching me with her usual smirk. I walked over to Venom's enclosure, opening the lid and letting her crawl onto my hand. Her legs tickled as she made her way up to my wrist.

"You baby that thing more than I've ever seen you care for a human," Soleil said, her voice dripping with amusement.

"Humans disappoint," I replied, stroking Venom's shiny back with the tip of my finger. "She doesn't lie. She doesn't betray. She just is."

Soleil raised an eyebrow. "That's poetic, but you do realize she's a glorified bug, right?"

I shot her a sharp look. "Watch your mouth. She has more personality than most people I know. Including you."

Soleil chuckled. "Touché. You should take her to the next family dinner. Maybe she'll bite one of Antonio's uncles. Do us all a favor."

I laughed softly, the idea not entirely unappealing. "She only bites if provoked. I'd keep her away from you."

Soleil feigned offense, holding a hand to her chest. "You wound me, Mrs. Genovese."

"Celine."

I rolled my eyes as Antonio's voice cut through the room. He strolled in with his usual air of authority, his hands casually tucked into the pockets of his perfectly tailored dark slacks. He wore a crisp white button-down, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing the veins on his forearms. His black loafers were spotless, and the faintest hint of cologne followed him-sharp, clean, and annoyingly intoxicating. Mafia casual, as always.

"Soleil," he nodded at his younger cousin, his tone flat but polite.

Soleil smirked, a playful glint in her eye. "Buonasera, cugino," she greeted in Italian before glancing at me with a wink.

I whispered to Venom, who was resting comfortably on my wrist, "This is the mean man I was telling you about."

Soleil snorted, quickly covering her mouth to hide her laughter. Antonio shot her a sharp look.

"What?" she said, raising her hands in mock defense. "Your wife's funny."

With that, Soleil sauntered out of the room, her laughter echoing faintly down the hallway.

"See?" I whispered to Venom as Antonio turned his full attention to me. "He's got horns and everything. I think he left his pitchfork in his office."

Antonio raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching as if fighting the urge to smile. "You know, you describe me rather interestingly to the thing I bought you."

"I guess you're going to have to buy a thank you from the same place you got her, too," I shot back, gently setting Venom back in her enclosure. "We don't sell gratitude here."

"Clearly," he muttered, stepping closer until the scent of his cologne mixed with the faint musk of the training room. "And here I thought the scorpion would thaw your frosty disposition."

"It's a nice gesture," I admitted begrudgingly, crossing my arms. "But I know what it was about."

"And what's that?"

"A lame-ass way to get pussy," I said, meeting his gaze with a challenge.

Antonio's eyes darkened slightly, the faintest hint of amusement flickering behind his usual stoicism. "Is it working?"

"Not even close."

He smirked, leaning casually against the wall. "Noted. I'll try harder next time."

"Are you high?"

"Why are you asking me that, Celine?"

"Because you're doing something weird with your mouth."

"You mean smiling?"

"Is that what it's called? Don't do that anymore. It creeps me out."

"I see. I'll try it more often."

"Fuck you."

"See, that's what my family told me to do to you, too, but you're not seeming to budge."

"What do you want, Antonio?"

He ignored my question and instead tilted his head, giving me an appraising look. "I hope you have your insurance money ready."

I furrowed my brow. "Always. Why?"

"Good. I got a hint from a little birdie someone was gonna choke you out in your sleep," he said casually, straightening his cuffs like it was just another day at the office.

I barked a laugh, leaning my hip against the table. "Let me guess. That little birdie's name starts with an 'A' and rhymes with 'moron?'"

Antonio smirked, his gaze unwavering. "I'm serious, Celine. You're making enemies with your charming personality."

I scoffed. "And you're the authority on charm now?"

"I've been told I can be persuasive when I want to be."

"Sure," I said dryly, rolling my eyes. "Right up there with a used car salesman."

He took a step closer, the faint smirk tugging at his lips again. "You know, your constant need to insult me is starting to sound suspiciously like projection."

"Projection of what?"

"Feelings."

I let out a bark of laughter. "Oh, please. Don't flatter yourself."

Antonio held my gaze for a beat longer than necessary, his expression unreadable. Finally, he broke the silence. "We have a family dinner tomorrow night. The De Lucas will be there."

"I have plans tomorrow."

"Yes, you do-the family dinner."

"Why do I have to go?"

"Look at your left hand."

"Why don't you?" I said, throwing up my middle finger.

Antonio sighed, shaking his head like he was dealing with a stubborn child. "You're my wife, Celine. They expect us both there."

"And what happens if I don't show?"

"Then they'll think there's trouble between us, and trouble in this family isn't an option. So put on a dress and pretend to like me for a few hours."

I narrowed my eyes. "You're really pulling the 'do it for the family' card?"

He leaned closer, his voice dropping just enough to send a chill down my spine. "I am. And you'll do it because you're smart enough to know why it matters."

I rolled my eyes but didn't argue further. "Fine. But I'm not pretending to like you. That's pushing it."

Antonio smirked, that infuriatingly confident expression back on his face. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

"I hope you have your insurance money ready."

"Always."

"Good. I got a hint from a little birdie someone was gonna choke you out in your sleep."

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im so sorry for the boring filler chapters i swear im gonna be better the scene with the dinners gonna have more tension I swear but how are yall??

celine and Antonio's relationship slowly progressing is giving me life it makes me so excited to write like ahhh

anyways remember to eat well today, you're progress is seen !!

- zio 🍸