By the time we arrive at the Arlotti estate, Pete has made half a dozen calls. "From the sounds of it I think they're pretty well ready to be done with old Francis. Breaking his word to me was the last straw for a lot of them. He'd already been losing it, this just made him look weak on top of paranoid. There shouldn't be any resistance."

"So we can count on at least three dozen men waiting for us, then? Should be fun."

"Sounds like our former father isn't the only paranoid one," Anna chimed in.

"Every time I've been told there would be no guards, there were a good twenty or so men waiting for me, guns drawn. Besides, not having to fight for this would just be boring."

Anna fixes me with a disapproving glare. "Anyone you kill is one less enforcer you'll have when the dust settles."

Practicality is way less fun. "Whatever you say, boss."

The glare turns smoldering. Someone is getting spanked tonight. "Elsa," she growls.

She knows her angry voice just gets me hot. "So, are we doing this?"

"In Uncle Pete's car?" Anna places her hand to her chest, gasping. "Why Elsa, what would our father think?"

"He'll be dead soon, I don't think it'll matter."

Pete chimes in before I can climb into the backseat. "I just had the car steam cleaned, save it for after we oust him."

"Fine," we both grumble.

Pete climbs out of the car, glancing around for any sign of trouble. He is still a wanted man here after all, if word hasn't spread about the coup, someone could be lining their sights up on his head right now. If word has spread, then they could be readying a rocket launcher to take out all three of us. I wonder if I could put up a wall of ice in time?

When Anna and I join him, we continue to not be shot. This is either a good sign or a very bad one. Ice armor forms under my clothing and Anna's. She shivers audibly, but gives a quick nod in understanding. I'm not willing to let anyone hurt her, and as long as I'm careful, frostbite still shouldn't be an issue. We've tested this pretty extensively, though not with armor.

More cars begin to trickle in as our reinforcements arrive. By the tenth car we have a veritable army. I don't know why we needed them when I could just make my own, but it's at least good to know that some people will stand with us instead of siding with Pops.

The troops fan out, taking position around the compound while Anna, Pete, and I head to the boss's office. We remain unchallenged until I knock at his door. There's no way this is going to be as easy as it seems. Someone has to have ratted us out, as many people as Pete called. Why isn't someone shooting us?

I start to knock on the door and stop myself. I'm not his little girl anymore. I place my palm on the door as ice fills every crevice in it then pull back and kick it with all my might, sending shards of ice flying into the room, pelting the opposite wall.

Frank Arlotti looks up from his paper to glower at me. "That door was imported from Italy."

I'm aware. I spit on his floor, the globule splintering as it hits the floor. "Thought my office could use some refurnishing."

"Your office is it?" He finally notices the man behind me. "And I see you brought the man you were supposed to kill with you. Am I to understand that this is some sort of mutiny?"

"You could call it that." This is so boring, isn't killing your father supposed to be more cathartic than this? His brain is already encased in ice, his eyes are visibly frosting over as we watch him.

"What just happened?" Pete asks.

"The job's done."

"That was anticlimactic."

"You knew I was the best. Hell, you've even seen me use my powers before."

Anna gestures towards the chair. "You going to take your seat?"

I hesitate. I already have more than enough on my plate, and I've honestly never had any interest in power nor any skill in management. I kill, that's all I do, and my godhood only makes that easier. "It's yours."

Anna blinks.

An explosion goes off somewhere in the compound. "Though you may have to wait until we're finished here." I knew it wouldn't be quite that simple.

"Why are they still fighting?" she asks. "We already took out their leader."

Pete sighs. "They don't know that, and even if they did, for some of these idiots it would only give them more reason to fight. Frankie was a terrible boss and a worse father to you two, but plenty of people still respected him."

"And they can die or join us. I think the choice is obvious." I toss off my suit, wearing only the thick and ornate armor of ice. I'm sick of having my clothes shredded in my fights. They're not cheap, and I look a lot more intimidated covered in jagged sheets of ice with a giant blade attached to one hand and a gun in the other. "You two wait here."

"Elsa, are you serious?" Anna meets my gaze, silently pleading for me to take her with me.

"You're the boss now, hardly makes sense to put you in danger. Pete will keep an eye on you."

"I'm not worried about myself!"

"I'm immortal, I'll be fine."

"Let me go with you," Pete insists.

"This is more important. I'm fine on my own." And very glad that I made the ice thick enough to not be see through. As dramatic as my butchering those cultists while naked was, it would be so weird having him see me like that. "I'll be right back. You saw how easily I took him out, just need to do some more of that."

A wall of ice replaces the old door as I pass. Anna had always wanted to try out a cage – though I expect she wanted me to be the one inside. A bullet ricochets off of my shoulder. That was quick. "Thank you for saving me the trouble," I snarl, waving my hand in the air, sending out a javelin of ice which promptly embeds itself in the man's chest. It's good to be a god.

A handful more men round the corner, presumably having heard the gunfire, and stare in shock – whether at the javelin sticking out of their friend (I think his name was Bernard) or the woman covered in ice I can't be sure. "Elsa?" one of the men asks.

Clearly I should include a mask if I want to do the whole super hero thing. "Hey there, Vinny. There a reason you didn't join us? I know Uncle Pete called you."

"I can't just turn against your father, the man practicality raised me."

Well he raised me and I still did it. "He's already dead. You're fighting for nothing."

Vinny blinks. "He's dead?"

"That's what I said, yeah. The man was a tyrant. He ordered me to kill his most trusted lieutenant, a man who was far more of a father to me than he ever was, just because he wanted out of the family."

"You can't just leave. And he was your father, and you killed him. Clearly the word doesn't mean much to you, and neither does family. Why would we ever side with you?"

God, this jackass is slow. "You mean besides the fact that I'll kill you if you don't?"

"Yeah, besides that. You know any one of us would sooner die than serve someone like you."

The man to his right raises his arms, his gun clattering to the linoleum floor. "Hey, speak for yourself man. Ms. Arlotti, I'm with you.

"That's very sweet of you, Charles." I really hope I have his name right. "But I'm not the don. Have you met me? I'd be a terrible leader. I don't know how to delegate or lead, I just kill. Anna's the new don."

"Seriously?" Vinny asks, his gun lowering slightly. "You did all this just to give your girlfriend control over the family?"

"I'd trust her with anything, and unlike me she can actually do this. Hell, she already practically ran it for years, she did the books, she ran half the businesses, she ran most of the meetings. It always made her morality lectures seem a bit hypocritical, but can you seriously think of anyone who could do a better job?" He's gonna say my father isn't he?

"No," he admits, his gun falling from his hands. I am so glad they don't work like they do in movies. There would be bullets ricocheting everywhere from all these people surrendering.

"Glad to hear it. You know the business well, I'd much rather keep you on than impale you as an example."

"Yeah, I'd prefer that too. Bernard doesn't make it look too fun."

So that was his name! I keep my eyes on the last few guns trained on me. "I don't think it is. So, everyone surrendering? No hard feelings, you won't even be punished."

They drop their weapons. I'm honestly a little disappointed. I thought I'd get to have a fun fight.

"Great. I'm gonna finish sweeping the place. See if you can convince everyone else to lay down arms, because the next person to point a gun at me is going to lose their head."

Room after room goes by in much the same fashion. I snap my fingers and a guy's head falls off, the others quickly drop their weapons. Several know me well enough to not even risk starting a fight with me in the first place. A few others take it as a challenge – it's going to take the maids hours to clean their blood off the ceiling. No one poses a challenge. Being a god is boring.

I unseal Anna's office/cage, the helmet of my armor melting away, and walk inside, to find a very irate Anna pointing a gun at me. A bullet goes right between my eyes. Bang, bang, my baby shot me down. Or at least that's what they'd be playing at my funeral if I wasn't immortal.

Instead I glare at my girlfriend as she squeezes off another round, this one passing through my mouth. I must have opened it to berate her, but instead have the back of my skull blown open. It still hurts like fuck.

"You locked me in a room with our dead father! He shat himself, and he's been staring at me this entire time." Her finger tenses on the trigger again.

I put up my hands in surrender. "Hey, haven't you put enough holes in me for the night?"

She flings the gun at my head. Now that's just irresponsible gun ownership. "You put me in charge. You should do what I say. You do not get to lock me in a cage, Elsa." Somehow she manages to cross the room to me in an instant. She's pulling off intimidating despite having to stand on her toes to meet my eyes. "You want me to be the don, fine. Then you work for me. You're my lieutenant and if I say I'm going with you, then I'm going with you."

"Sure thing, boss." I take a step back. If you ever wondered what gods are afraid of, it's tiny redheads.

As expected, her hand meets my cheek. The distance lightens the blow a bit, but she's always been a hell of a slapper. I had a mark stay for almost a week before, though that wasn't on my face. "I was worried about you!"

"I was fine until you shot me." They're already healing, but the new hole in my head really stings. I wonder if I'm at all impaired while my brain is healing.

"It served you right." She pulls her hand back again.

I know when I'm beaten. "I'm sorry, Anna. I was just trying to keep you safe. You're not immortal, I could take all of it."

"That wasn't your call to make. You don't get to put me in charge and then undermine me in the space of a minute. You made me look weak in front of my men."

"It was just Pete," I insist. I sure hope my wounds have finished healing. I suppose if they haven't then our audience would have likely already vomited from being able to see my tongue visibly moving from the back of my head.

"And who does Pete work for, Elsa?"

Her. But I mean, come on, it's Uncle Pete. "Pete, you don't care, do you? You know I was just trying to keep her safe."

"I told her she should toss you in the furnace," he replies, finally joining the conversation.

I blink. He what? "Uncle Pete –"

"You're right, Anna's far better suited to lead than you are, and it makes sense to have you handle the front lines, but do you know whose call that was?" He places a hand on Anna's shoulder as if in answer to his own question.

"I was just trying to keep her safe," I repeat.

Anna brushes off his hand and takes a large step towards me, having to crane her neck to meet my gaze. Her finger prods the icy shell encasing my chest. "You were trying to lead and still get out of all of the responsibility that comes with it. I tried to let you be the don, but you pushed it onto me, without even seeing if I was okay with it. So if I'm the don, then you're going to act like it. You work for me. If you pull something like this again, you're out."

Her words burn. My work is my life. The only reason I'd ever be willing to leave was for her, and now she'd actually consider kicking me out and staying herself. This from the woman who found our violent profession so distasteful? I've created a monster. "I'm sorry. I'll be good."

She smirks. Maybe I'm finally off of thin ice – ice gods get to make ice puns, it's in the job description. "You better be."

Two fights with Anna in a single day. It's a world record. And I'm zero for two.

"I have a lot of paperwork to get caught up on, since he's rather dead, he can't sign anything over, and taking possession of the place is going to take all night. I'll see you at home, Elsa."

This is something she can do. I'll let her bury herself in work. Maybe by the time she's home she won't be mad at me anymore.

I only manage to make it halfway home before another crazy person attacks me. I swear, when did my life become a comic book?