As I turn to leave, Fausto mentions something about our rivals in Florence getting in on the trafficking. After they looked down on us for the same thing I find this hard to believe. And if that’s a fact, he’s telling me something I wasn’t supposed to know. But I can’t figure out his end game. Things in this world are rarely as the appear. Even with my experience growing up in this dark world, it’s still hard to separate fact from fiction.
These men are cunning, otherwise they wouldn’t be good at their jobs. My brothers lie out of both sides of their mouths. They make a living at it, and they’ve been doing it for generations. Unfortunately, I’m not able to figure out facts from the fiction.
I can’t say I was surprised when my brothers, Mario and Fausto, joined the Calabrese family, because they out number us and Angelo was theconsiglierefor my dad, so it makes sense. Of a sort. By my brothers giving the Calabreses their support, they sold out for top positions.
But how long they will be content with that? Didn’t they plan to get Dad’s spot? Now they act as if everything is fine and it’s not sitting well with me. Something is amiss. But I view it as them selling out for an easy ride.
Traitors!
After Dad died, that prick, Angelo, had the nerve to push me aside like I’m dirty dishwater that needs to be tossed out the window. When I ask for basic items to make life tolerable for the hostages, he gets nasty and now he’s denying all my humanitarian requests. I’m sure it will cut into his profits.
Little does he know, if he or anyone else comes after me, I will kill them. I’ve been watching my back since I was a kid, and now I’m on high alert. I have no one to protect me. I could be a liability, even though it’s uncommon to kill off a don’s daughter. Besides, I am the person who makes public appearances for our donations to charity. I frequent the gym, trained some female boxers and by no means do I splash myself around on social media.
My brothers love their luxurious sports cars and act like big shots around the others, often running up huge bar tabs and picking it up for everyone. I’m sure both of them are capable of having me killed so he can get more of Dad’s estate. Oddly, my family has more to gain should I meet an untimely end, and I’m beginning to think I’m not safe in my own home anymore.
Instinct kicks in and I’m beginning to see myself more like Sofia—trapped with no free will. My every move is being watched around here. I hate these men and what they stand for. The thought of Sophia being prostituted sickens me. She must be found, and the clock is ticking.
Antonio and Faustothink I’m no longer relevant, but I’d love to show them. Growing up with every privilege imaginable I had no idea what it would be like to live without family money.
From the issues with the estate attorney I curse my brothers for trying to screw me. They make me look like I’m a thief and it’s terrible to hate the only blood family I have left. But I do.
I am so blinded by anger I don’t know how sane or insane this mission is, but once my mind is made up, it rarely changes.
The Calabreses didn’t even have the balls to tell me of their new rules, nor did Angelo apologize for cutting me off. No concessions were made and my blood boils judging from my racing heartbeat. My brothers must be thankful that they weren’t taken out in the vacuum that follows an empty seat at the head of the table. I find it odd how the regime changed over without the blood bath that always takes place after a don’s death.
I box up my apartment and use a fake ID for the storage unit before leaving town. I have to protect my personal possessions. I don’t care about the lush furniture and material items I’ve collected over the years.
But sentimental items can’t be replaced so I protect those in the event that my apartment is torched. Besides, I have to leave a number of items, so no one is the wiser that I’m not off visiting Grandma, which is something I normally do, but particularly true after Dad’s death.
Is Sofia out there? Could she be in Florence? Maybe. I owe it to her to check it out. And there is only one way to find out. I’ve done a week of research on the family and my impression leads me to believe Sal is easier to get to than Dante.
Besides, a hit on Dante would spark fury at home and it wouldn’t end in my favor. I doubt Angelo wants to spend money on a war as his first order of business as the new don. His agenda doesn’t need to be written, he’s trying to earn respect and put more money in his men’s pockets.
I pack all my hacking gear, workout clothes and tons of designer items for every occasion as I’ll have to infiltrate the Micheli family and find out who they are and where they are weak.
It’s risky but it needs to be done. I will do this under the cloak of darkness starting tonight as my brother isn’t home. I text him I’m going to visit Grandma in Sicily. He knows I’m not the type to take an actual vacation. Grandma is different and won’t look suspicious.
I make a quick call to Grams. She just needs to cover for me, and my getaway is complete. I have one last detail to cover before assuming my alias. I break my phone, stomping on it the hard heel of my boot before I open my Zippo, squeeze lighter fluid on it and light a match. I switch to my burner phone. Now I’m off the grid. I took care of the GPS in my car the day it arrived in my driveway, but I check for portable trackers just to be safe. One can never be too careful.
I slide into the plush leather seats in my luxury car and make the trip to my brother’s house. He’s working nights so no one will be there. Like I said, he’s predictable, a creature of habit. A dangerous way to live in our world.
The hard rock music on the radio bothers me so I turn the station to Italian music and take a sip of my iced coffee I grabbed on the way over. It’s the perfect drink when it’s too hot for coffee. I can’t wait for winter to come.
Oddly, I was a precocious child and after asking a million questions I came up with my own solutions. And they clicked when I started with karate around the same time Dad insisted on kicking me around like a soccer ball. He assumed it would toughen us all up and my brothers got their licks as well. But there was no way I was going into the family business.
I was taught I could be abducted as the child of a don, but my motivation for learning self-defense was due to its usefulness to me on a daily basis at home. It was my first silver lining that I took advantage of to ward off not only Dad but eventually my brothers with a few well aimed kicks.
The music can’t keep my mind from the past and in retrospect, I can blame Dad for not having friends in my life. Dear old fucking piece of shit Dad. The one that will fuck a woman with his eyes, then his dick. I don’t know how Mom put up with it. But he was Dad and I loved him as all children give unconditional love to their parents. He’s the only man I ever loved until I met Alessandro, my mentor and Krav Maga instructor.
Life changed for me the minute Dad watched me beat the shit out of a female opponent in the boxing ring at the gym. After that, he never hit me again. But the years of abuse had already taken a toll and left me with issues I’m still not ready to deal with. The door on that shall remain closed indefinitely.
I did hang out around the warehouses where Daddy had his office when I was little. It was our only father daughter bonding time and as I matured, I studied the hot guys who came in and out of his office but never imagining myself married to one of them. They were rough guys who did bad things on the street.
Flirt with them? Guilty. However I consider myself damaged goods now with my anger issues over men. That’s only one issue. But why marry into the mafia and worry about what will happen if I disagree when my husband has a mistress on the side? No thank you.
I take the familiar turns to get to my brother’s house. I make my way into his office circumventing his security cameras. I enter his computer because he’s so pussy whipped his password is his girlfriend’s name.
What an Idiot.