Meeting the D'Antoni Family

Ginnie heels clicked along the pavement as she made her way from her car to the sewer grate that would lead her down into the House of Pain. These men were such idiots. She had given them a single luxury in this deal in allowing them to choose the venue and the morons went with the hop. She hated this damn place, the wannabes pissed her off, and the drugs that circulated the place made it difficult to cull any of them with out becoming stoned. She hated being drunk or stoned from her pray it lasted much longer than it should and always made her vomit. She climbed down the little ladder, hoping no one was at the bottom looking up her skirt. Of course all they would see is the gun strapped to her left thigh and the knife to her right.

Her briefcase bumped gently against her thigh as she walked the short way down the sewer passage to the elevator, careful not to get anything on her black lace trimmed skirt or her black and white wing tipped shoes, in to anything disgusting that she could see. She pressed the button and waited, taking a moment to smooth the lines of her white brocade blouse.

As the elevator rose the music within the club began to make the small space vibrate with its bass. She stepped from the elevator and was greeting by a very large man, who bid her to enjoy her night. She managed not to roll her eyes at him, and headed into the club. She looked over the gyrating bodies on the dance floor until her eyes fell on a booth holding three men in Italian suits. 'Good Lord. They want to come in this place, to talk business and dress like mafia thugs. I swear, I should just shoot them now and put them out of their stupidity.'

The D'Antoni family was one of her biggest rings, and she really did need them, but the three youngest brothers were all tools, and at least one of them was here, a sign of disrespect she would not soon forget. She crossed to the table, the two Mercs she'd commissioned for the evening disengaged from the crowd to join her.

"Good evening, gentlemen."Â? Dominic, and his sons Carmine and the youngest Marco, stood as one and gave her small bows of respect. She had never in her association with any of these rings touched them, she didn't want their scent on her, nor did she need the distraction of feeling their blood flow through their very human veins.

She took her place at the empty end of the table and her two men stood behind her like good little goons. She placed the briefcase on the floor beside her and gave the waiter that approached an order of Chianti for the table, as the men before her did not have drinks yet, and she knew they were much more amenable when plied with liquor.

"How have you been, Dominic? It has been much too long since we have had the pleasure of sharing a drink."Â?

"It has indeed, Ms. Genevieve. I hope this evening finds you well?"Â?

She rolled her eyes enternally, what an ass. 'Yup, I should just pop them all now, or hell give'em to the Mercs.' "It does, thank you."Â?

Their wine arrived and was poured. Ginnie took the time to pull her briefcase up onto the table and removed a black folder. She slid the folder over to Dominic. Dominic D'Antoni was a large man, build like a line backer, he was dressed in gray Armani and his dark brown hair was slicked back to cover the emerging bald spot on the crown of his head. He gave his mustache a nervous smoothing before taking the folder and sliding it closer.

"I am not in the mood for pleasantries tonight, Dominic. Open it, and see what it is I bring to you."Â?

With a small almost unnoticed swallow, he opened the folder to a small stack of night vision photos and a rather thick excel spreadsheet. He studied the top photo for a moment before looking up at Ginnie.

"What is this?"Â?

"I'm not going to pretend that you don't know. I know you found my gift and so I know that you do not need to ask that. Look at it all, Dominic. Do not force me to get up from this table."Â?

The threat was veiled, but Dominic was a very smart man, despite his cheesy mafia don look. He returned his eyes to the folder, flipping through the stills of his men getting humped by the guard dogs, and then the largest dog orgy know to man, all on top of his very incapacitated men, the final was of the car, in a raging inferno. Beneath the picture was a very detailed list of his warehouse. He gaze, now a little unsteady, returned to hers.

"Do you know what this means for you, Mr. D'Antoni?"Â?

He gave that little swallow again. "It seems my estimations were wrong, Ms. Genevieve."Â?

"I am inclined to agree. What do you propose we do about this?"Â?

"I do not assume anything."Â?

A small cruel smile curled the corner of her mouth. "That is not what I hear. I hear that you have said some very nasty things about my organization, Dominic. I also hear you don't intend to do business with me."Â?

"I never said that."Â?

"Not what I hear."Â?

"I said we may have to change the way we do business."Â? That little swallow, followed by a sip of his wine. Dominic closed the folder, one finger twitching with the effort of not playing with the edges of it.

"Again, not what I hear. See the way I look at it is you have two choices here, Dominic. You can find out what it means to cross me, or you can put things back the way they were. I can not abide disloyalty and you have shown me nothing but. I will give you once more opportunity to change my mind."Â? She sipped gently from her wine, uncrossing and re-crossing her legs. She gave the man an opportunity to remember just who it was he was dealing with. She knew he remembered what she had done to the last ring leader that had crossed her, she had made sure he had had the privilege of witness. He nodded slowly to her, and stood. His sons standing with him.

"We will not give you reason to doubt."Â?

She inclined her head in aknowledgement. "For your sake, I hope so."Â?

The men gave small bows and left the building. She motioned one of the Mercs to lean down and spoke softly into his ear. He smiled at her and trotted of to follow the men out.







The Merc, whose name she didn't actually know, tailed the family to their car. Marco had held the door for his father and was waling around the car to climb into the front passenger seat when the Merc came up behind him. One swift motion had sharp fangs drinking deeply of the man, arms imobile. It took only a moment of struggle to drink the man dry. Young Marco would not be coming home for diner this night. The Merc sliced through the man's neck and left him for the shadows, and to return to his mistress of the evening, and he wondered if she would let him kill again this night.