Carmela Bearzetti's Arc

Chapter 1 of 2

Carmela sat in the back room of her husband's headquarters and waited for the lieutenant to arrive. She'd let him think this meeting was his idea. Men like him needed to feel bold when they came to her with schemes — it made them sloppy, eager to impress. He arrived at dusk, nervous hands clutching a folder. He ran the cereal warehouse on the east edge of territory — a legitimate front that kept the books clean. The place sat near the hive where the bees worked their flowers, and he'd been making regular trips there for months. Her husband trusted him completely. That was the problem with trust. It made people think they were safe. The lieutenant laid out his plan. He could skim from the den's honey stash if she helped him pressure the bees. They were already exhausted, already vulnerable. A little leverage would turn them into workers for his side operation. He'd split the take with her. His voice shook when he said it, like he expected her to be impressed by his nerve. Carmela leaned back and studied him. He'd just handed her three things her husband would never know about: proof the lieutenant was disloyal, a way to control the honey supply, and a test to see who else in the outfit would betray sentiment for profit. She told him yes. Not because she wanted his cut, but because now she owned him, and through him, she'd own the bees, the stash, and one more piece of her husband's crumbling empire.