Children of Ambition (Children of Vice 2)

“I'm a kind person, I'm kind to everyone,

but if you are unkind to me,

then kindness is not what you'll remember me for.”

~ Al Capone

GABRIEL

Death had a smell.

It wasn’t the type of smell that brought vultures.

It was the type only certain living people could smell. People who’d come close to losing their lives one too many times, who’d been living on the edge of death’s door. I was one of those people. When death tried to come for me, the air around me would become still, the hair on my arms would rise, and I could smell the scent of peach and vinegar, just like I had last night. At first everything had seemed fine. But then she looked at me from the corner of her eye and I knew… Death was going to try to take me again.

I had to applaud her.

The ability to call forth death was something all men secretly wanted. That’s why Americans were so damned attached to their second amendment. The right of the people to keep and bear arms, shall not be infringed. It was merely eloquent words for pure savagery. It shouldn’t have been called the right to bear arms; it should have been called the right to call death upon thy enemies. No matter how innocent a person was, no matter much good they did, there was still a black blemish in their hearts; the place where they caged their savagery, unleashing it on those who could hurt them. Guns made it easy. Easy to give the gift of death to those one came up against…so easy that they could detach themselves from how vicious they were being. The simple pull of a trigger and death came and went.

No. I didn’t want to be detached.

I didn’t want death to come and go with a single finger.

My whole body needed to be steeped in it because when my enemies…or in this case my fiancée, sent death after me… Death would join my side.

I made space for it.

I decisively walked into backyard, and kept walking into the woods, pretending to read the book in my hand. Over the last four days, I had known they had men watching me, tailing after me. So, if she’d sent them to kill me, they’d do it now.

Why?

Why was she doing it?

In a way, it actually made sense; she was scared. No one was on her side. Not the way she wanted it. They were all pushing her into a corner, starving her of respect and consideration. They didn’t mean to. They didn’t understand, when you are born with fire in you, when you wanted to rise but reality kept weighing you down. Like being a bird with broken wings staring up at the sky through which you were meant to soar. The sight was maddening. I understood her madness. Because I had the same madness in me as me as well. It was why I was here.

I was running out of time.

But I still knew to be patient.

What was worth having was worth waiting for. Worth fighting and killing for.

Snap. I

paused in the middle of the trail, which was covered in leaves still green and blades of grass.

Closing the book, I looked up to see six of the men surrounding me on all sides with guns in their hands.

Looking over them all, I asked one question, “Are we doing this like men or like bitches?”

They glanced over at each other before snickering; one of them stood up straighter and dropped his gun to the side.

Hubris was a sin for a reason…and they were going to learn that today.

DONATELLA

I was just about to take a bite of my French toast when all of sudden the doors burst open, and Helen gasped.

“Oh my God!”