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Sitting in her leather executive chair in her office, Bette looked fixedly at the clasp-knife that she was twisting in her hands. She opened and closed the knife over and over again, her mind so obsessed by it that she didn’t notice abrasion forming on her fingers from the constant pressure and friction against hard steel.
She just got a call from her boss, Doctor Arnodelo, who ordered her not to take revenge on Marcus’s attacker that was yet to be found. That was not worth it, Arnodelo told her on the phone, reasoning that the revenge might damage the reputation of their whole mob.
Fuck the reputation, Bette thought. Marcus was not just her business partner, he was not just some pawn in Arnodelo’s hands. He was her closest friend. He would do the same for her if she was in his shoes.
Fuck Arnodelo and his orders, Bette thought. She didn’t care about consequences, as long as she got what she wanted. And all she wanted was revenge.
”Bette?” a muffled voice called out from somewhere behind her back.
But Bette was too distracted and consumed with her thoughts to react. By then her fingers were laced with tiny cuts and were bleeding slightly.
The outcry caused the brunette to snap out of her trance. She swiveled around in the chair to face her gang. Multiple pairs of confused, expectant eyes were gazing at her from the conference table.
”So?” Billie Blaikie asked, his impatience showing. ”What did the big boss say?”
Bette leaned forward with her elbows placed on the desk and stared at her partners blankly, not responding.
”What’re we supposed to do now?” another one of Bette’s subordinates, Francesca Wolff, wondered.
Bette tilted her head a little to a side. With one brow crooked in an annoyed lift she spoke to the woman, ”What are you supposed to do?” She then stood up and began moving slowly toward the conference table, never averting her glower from Francesca. ”Looking for the shooter is what you are supposed to do now and that’s that.”
Francesca smirked, chewing lazily on her bubble gum. ”But that’s not our job. I mean, revenging some asshole, who bore a hole in your little friend? Absolutely necessary, extremely important, yeah,” she said, sarcasm dripping from her words. ”That’s not our job, alright?”