The club is hopping tonight, and the vibe is tantalizing, or maybe it’s the tall Italian in the tailored suit that is taking everything in and then some. The club is a popular and is even known in southern Italy which makes it easy to find Sal Micheli as I order another Cosmo.
See, it’s not so hard. He could come right up to me and not know who I am. Daddy kept me hidden well for fear I’d be kidnapped. In retrospect it was just another way for him to control me.
The waitress is nervous under Sal’s scrutiny and spills some of my drink on the table. “Scusi,” she mumbles.
“Watch what you’re doing the next time,” I bark at the waitress who looks a few years younger than me. Now she looks like she might cry.
Shit.
I don’t want to draw attention to myself but as usual my quick tongue has made that nearly impossible. Call it the Italian in me but I can be abrupt at times. One reason I am sure Gio Conti was my dad.
I’ve heard talk of other children by his mistresses but it’s all very hush-hush. But rumors circulate and I’m anxious to meet the latest arrival on the family scene. Juliet.
I’m a hunter tracking its prey as I eye my mark. Like an eagle, I watch him walk around the bar. Sal has no clue what I have planned. He has the usual number of bodyguards doubling as security for the club and the place is packed.
Dante is too difficult to get to, Sal is definitely the easier target. He is likable judging from his interactions with his staff. Killing him will fill Dante with a lifetime of regret for killing my father and bringing this upon his family. He will be hurt like I’ve been hurt.
I’ve already scoped out the home where Sal lives and from there, I followed him to work. I try to blend in while I take inventory of his guards and identify any routines I can take advantage of during the hit. I must admit, the club is impressive. I can’t help but enjoy the music as I sway to the beat.
It’s obvious the bar is popular and must be making bank. The ambiance is intoxicating, and I find myself lost in thoughts of happier times as people dance and get liquored up around me and for a second, I wish I could join them and be just another normal twenty-five-year-old out with her friends for a night of fun.
Sal’s eyes are checking me out again and he’s sizing me up to see if I meet his criteria. Although killing him in his bed is too . . . normal. No, for him I want to make a large splash.
Luckily my car and clothes fit in with the crowd and I decide the bar is too visible for a shooting. I know the annual half-mask gala is coming up to raise money for the children’s hospital and everyone who is anyone will be attending. I have it on good source that the Micheli family goes every year.
It’s always good to mix business with pleasure at huge and very public events, especially if you have to speak with people who might raise an eyebrow, like the owners of cash operations and houses of prostitution. I mean, it’s no secret that elected officials use these places from time to time for free.
It’s the oil that keeps the machine going.
Until the gala this weekend, I will be using what I have picked up over the years to make this hit successful. Then my clan will want me back in due haste because it will mean we’ve avenged our father’s death. Something they were too weak to do themselves.
Granted, I’m not a made woman yet, but I want to have my allowance restored on general principle. I have an adequate standard of living without my family’s money because I know it’s a brutal world and I trust no one to provide for me.
I believe in being in control of my own destiny and maybe that’s why I can’t commit to a relationship. Giving up control in this world shows weakness and I’m not weak.
Do I deserve to be paid from the organization? Yes. I also deserve to be compensated for my father’s years of service and ultimate sacrifice. Once I have that, and once I make that right, I’ll be untouchable.
I pick up my phone to check the time. I’ve stayed later than expected. No one knows where I am, plausible deniability.
I pay for my last Cosmo with cash as I turn another potential suitor away and make the decision that the annual ball must be the place. It’s a masked ball and I can cover my face around cameras.
It will be at night with limited lighting for dancing. The fact that the place will be packed with other syndicates will help to keep eyes off me. Who would suspect me, the only daughter of don Conti, of being ballsy enough to take on the Micheli family?
Besides, it’s been months and there is no talk of retaliation from our side. They probably think they are in the clear now and will help me even more if security becomes lax.
The anger over my dad is one thing but the anger of the girls missing and the fact that Sal or Dante is behind it disgusts me. He’s busy with the Albanians, whom I happen to recognize by their clothing and posture, will keep him distracted so I slip up the other staircase where I assume his office is. He launders money here for sure, so it makes sense that he keeps his books locked away somewhere. I just want to find evidence that he paid Angelo.
Personally, I didn’t think Angelo would do business with our worst enemy in the history of the planet. I doubt it was a popular move unless the money made him overlook many details.
I pull out my lockpick set from my tiny handbag and pop open his drawer no problem. I carefully rifle through his papers and ledgers that are in code and take pictures of them.
I slip out under the cover of night, mingling in with the Florence crowd on the street. Dad had so many enemies, he didn’t want my death to be on his conscious and kept me away from prying eyes. But I’ll show the family that I can do what they can’t or won’t.
I don’t have to tell them that I set the girls free once I find them, but I have to find Sofia. She’s the main focus. She must be found even if I might have to do some unsavory things to find her. What is Sal’s life worth if I can set twenty innocent girls free?
I’m the best at what I do. And sneaking away to learn ground fighting on the rough streets was easy and even though I got hurt I realized at an early age it would come in handy.
If my husband ever raises a hand to me, he’ll be picking his teeth up off the floor. Worst case scenario I’d have to make his death look like an accident, if in fact that is the path my life will go down.