As for my brothers, they must have falsified incriminating evidence to show the Calabrese in order to get a hit put on me. There really is no other reason for it. If they find me at the Micheli compound still alive, they will assume I spilled secrets to the Michelis . . . then I’m a dead woman, no matter what. There is no way I can talk my way out of that situation so it’s imperative I don’t get caught.
I pull into a five-star hotel not far from my family’s compound. I picked this place because I’m driving Sal’s Maserati and don’t need it getting stolen.
My family will think I’m lying low and will be looking into dives and holes in the walls. They won’t suspect I’m not the docile little mouse. If they thought beatings and degrading talk would destroy me, they thought wrong. I’m stronger than they will ever be.
I’m underdressed for La Dolce Vita Hotel, but the staff is used to it from the swarms of overweight and many unappreciative American tourist who dress more for comfort than style. And they don’t care to learn our culture and appreciate our love for the finer things in life. At least I’m not wearing sweatpants and sandals.
Pulling my hoodie over my hair, I check in using cash and a fake passport. I’m keenly aware that I’m close to the enemy’s nest and try not to act too jumpy. It’s serendipitous that my hair color is blonde and not dark as they won’t be expecting that, and I hope it will help me keep my identity in the shadows.
I wish Sal was here. Even though I’m not sure we can trust each other, he has a way of calming me with his laidback energy.
We had sex, angry sex that melted my armor. Like a snail without a shell, the vulnerable feelings were overwhelming, and I couldn’t stay. Flight or fight they say, and I don’t want to fight with him anymore.
The news of the bounty on my head pisses me off to no end and my brothers will live to regret that. Except for Angelo Calabrese, I’ll make them all pay. Who, if anyone, was in on my dad’s death? Doesn’t really matter, history can’t be re-written. It’s the past and after our final confrontation, that’s where it will stay.
I would hate it more if our own family killed Dad, however my gut, along with the shreds of evidence point to the Michelis. Can I hate them when they took out such an evil person? Someone I despised myself?
I’m second guessing my motives and find that not all mafia families have to be mean to their women. The Michelis are under my skin, I’m not numb, the hatred I hold in fades to a lighter shade of grey when I’m with them.
Sal. Will I ever have a chance to tell him I wanted to say, ‘I’ll stay.’ Will he understand? I’m sure he knows more than I do about the families. He’s been part of the inner circle for years, while I’ve always been on the outside looking in.
How can I make him any promises when I’m not in a state of mind to make good decisions? If I come out of this alive, which is a long shot, I hope our paths cross again.
I have cameras in the car that I need to install in spots they don’t know have great vantage points. When I did the security years ago, I looked for choice locations just in case I needed them in the future. The future is now.
It’s odd that I hadn’t seen much of Mario, my oldest brother, in the month’s following Dad’s death. This concerns me because he’s not one to lie low. Like our father, he enjoys showing off.
I need to get these cameras up before dawn. Security gets a bit lax around three a.m. when the guards go outside to play a game of dice or smoke cigarettes to keep themselves awake.
I hide the Maserati in the woods, gather a soft black bag from the trunk, and walk over a mile to reach my destination. Hiding behind a low perimeter wall, I look through binoculars to check out the compound that had been my home.
Normal night movement as far as I can tell. I hide cameras up in trees and other unseen places pointed at the compound. Sneaking around in the stillness of the night, I’m sweating and thinking of Sal. What is he doing? How is he? Will he forgive me for leaving?
I’ll need to break in and use my infrared light to check the building. But first I need to check the locations where they house the girls. I need to get into the port or crack their computer system and find the manifest they use on the paper that is a pseudonym for the humans. I have no idea what it might be.
Damn, Sal could easily get me into the port hidden in one of his men’s vehicles. I want to call him, but I can’t bring myself to ask for help. “A Conti needs no one,” Dad would say.
But I’m feeling less like a Conti by the minute. I can fight and make strategies with the men Dad used. But I draw the line at using women for profit and that makes me an outcast and puts a target on my back.
Fuck.
Fuck, and fuck.
I should have known it was only a matter of time before my narcissistic brothers figured out how to get rid of me once and for all.
They must be planning to take over the Calabreses. When they kissed Angelo’s ass so fast, I knew it was a ploy, had to be. My brothers will never bow to anyone, and their word is worthless. Angelo should have had them whacked them if he wanted to be safe.
My word is good as I have a different circle of friends and contacts.
Dawn is coming so I return to the hotel to get rest. Tomorrow I’ll scout out all the locations and take notes on their routines. All the key players need to be accounted for. Damn, I need my computer, the one that Sal took.
I fall into a deep sleep and wake up from a nightmare that I can barely remember. Someone is under our compound and there are gated doors, there is yelling, someone is in pain, and shouting.
I sit up in bed, my heart racing and my tank top is soaked in sweat. It takes me a minute to remember where I am. The dream was so real, but I can’t make heads or tails of it. Unable to fall asleep again, I get up and start coffee with fresh beans that grind and produce the perfect cup of espresso.
I down it in a gulp and step into the shower. As I close my eyes and let the hot water wash over me, I can’t forget Sal’s eyes as he looked into mine and asked me to stay. I’m not sure what to make of it but I know what I wanted to say, I just don’t know if I can do it.
I wash my long hair and blow dry it, not sure why I bother as it will only be under a hoodie or a ball cap later.