She was well aware of crazed junkies. They were the infection of the tunnels, only negative part of it. She could do without and she did without. The mafia did not tolerate drugs. It did not tolerate the addicts and it did not tolerate its sellers. Once upon a time, the world worked differently. Killing had to be done with discretion less one caught the eye of the authorities.
But now that was no longer an issue. There were no authorities. Yes, the shelters attempted to maintain order and provide a false sense of security with their leaders and their officers, but they had no real power. Real power was within the individual’s hands. Anyone could rise and anyone could fall. It was a free game now.
For her, Arden didn’t care about power. She had no such ambition. If she had any, they weren’t centered here. She had taken over an entire country. Austin, Texas was nothing. No, this was a temporary resting ground for her as she waited for the arrival of her Famiglia. It was a nice place to relax and to have fun before she returned to New York. Nico might not have agreed with her motivation for heading back to the state, but his opinion was irrelevant in the end. Hers was what mattered.
It was sweet that the topolino warned her of the danger, but she had already lost count on how many of those “crazed junkies” she’d single-handedly killed. They were nothing but trash. Their lives had no worth. “We will be fine,” she reassured him as he retrieved his lantern. He was a resourceful one, was he not? She liked that. While he was distracted, Arden made a subtle gesture at Nico to stay back, hidden and out of sight. She did not want him to disturb them, to frighten away the boy.
“I am Arden,” she introduced herself once he turned back to her. She walked the few steps it took to catch up with him, delight obvious in her expression. “What is your name?”