Page 6 of Ruthless

Strained silence fills the room.

Between their covered faces, the darkness, and the red glare, the Councilors manage to keep their identities hidden. For one disorienting moment, I wonder if they’re even human. The voice modulators distorting their speech don’t do much to prove they’re flesh and blood.

Arlecchino barks an order, and the man at my back releases me. I brush my fingers over the wetness on my neck. After studying them, I shrug and suck the fluid into my mouth.

I’m rewarded when two Councilors shift uneasily in their chairs.

They think I’m a little unhinged, and they’re probably right. I do enjoy going the extra mile to prove it. Keeps them on their toes.

The Council member playacting as Il Dottore, with a high, wrinkled brow, bulbous nose, and built-in spectacles without lenses, waves a lazy hand. “You may proceed with your request.”

Tension climbs. This is it.

I dip my chin in a show of respect. “If it pleases the Council, I am requesting permission to punish the woman I believe aided my captors in abducting me. Per codicil 11.2, anyone under Council rule has the right to seek retribution against any individual outside of the Council’s scope of influence who wrongs a family member in a way that leads to grievous harm.”

Soft murmurs reach my ears before Zanni, one of the oldest masks in the organization, clears his throat. His long, sharply hooked nose would be comical if the small, shifty eye sockets didn’t give him major creep energy.

“Have you had any contact with this woman yet?”

The attention of all seven figures burns into me. “No, although I came close today when I followed her for a short time.”

“And before that, you had your men track her.”

Zanni’s statement lands like a mic-drop, lifting the hair on my neck. Confirmation of their spying comes as no surprise, though.

The Council deals in secrets and blackmail. The more intel they gather on us, the easier we are to control.

To that end, the Council has eyes and ears everywhere, and getting caught in a lie is a death wish. And since I plan to stick around long enough to make my tormentors regret they were ever born, I need to proceed with caution.

“Yes. She left the city while I was…away. Now she’s back, and I didn’t want to give her a second chance to disappear.”

Zanni nods. “One moment.”

White noise pours from hidden speakers, muting the Council’s whispered conversation. They finish their discussion less than a minute later, and the noise shuts off again.

“We will approve your request to seek vengeance,” Zanni says. “Just remember, unsanctioned relationships are forbidden.”

“That won’t be a problem.”

“Then you have our blessing.”

Strain leeches from my muscles. The table creaks as Dottore braces his elbows on the wood. “We’ve noticed your brother’s been seeing a woman for the past few weeks. A model, or maybe an influencer?”

I shrug, attempting to hide my irritation over their little games. If they’re asking about her, then they already know exactly who she is. Hell, they’ve probably already created a full dossier. “‘Seeing a woman’ is a pretty euphemism for what my brother does with them. I learned long ago that he goes through his…datingpartners too quickly for me to bother with memorizing their life histories.”

That earns me a few masculine chuckles. Eeerie robotic ones, thanks to the voice modulators.

I hope they’re almost done with me. Catering to the whims of anonymous old men with tiny dick syndrome triggers my stabbiest impulses.

I’m not worried about Marco and his latest fuck-of-the-week. The next shiny toy will snag his attention soon enough, and if not, I can just drag him to the strip club.

Dottore drums his fingers on the table. “We take no issue with him using women outside the Families for convenience. We just want him to make smart choices and understand that we must approve any true match.”

Pantalone’s hooked nose and pointed goatee tremble as he snickers, the humorous noise an unsettling contradiction to the permanently angry brow.

I swallow my anger over these pricks baiting me. They want to provoke a reaction that demonstrates my weak will.

Well, good luck with that. They’re welcome to try…and fail.