What the hell am I supposed to do? I’m twenty-five and have no future except one living behind the lines of society’s laws. Sure, my two brothers can join the new rank and file as part of the restructuring but it’s clear that as a woman I’m considered to be their property.
If I don’t get out of here soon, they will marry me off. I’ll be an indentured servant to a husband who will expect me to pop out some kids, so I’ll be stuck forever. I don’t even like kids. And I'd like being married even less knowing he’s in the organization.
All the anger I stifled for years broke like a dam this month when Sophia disappeared. No one will say it but it’s true. I know too much to not pick up on the signs that this might be a problem for the new don. Even if the Calabrese aren’t pursuing my father’s killers, I want the people responsible to pay. Maybe if I prove my worth, I’ll regain some position in the ranks or they will let me lead my own life.
But, if Sal Micheli has the enslaved girls, maybe I can find Sophia, maybe that’s why they were moved so suddenly.
My heart is filled with anger and vengeance. It appears my father died under dubious circumstances at our rival’s hotel and even though there is no conclusive evidence, it’s enough for me. What I want, I get. And at times, you only get if you take, and Fausto made it sound like I’d find Sofia with the Michelis, so that fuels my hatred of them even more.
4
Sal
At the end of the night, I circle around again, looking for little Ms. High Society, but I can’t find her anywhere. Trust me when I can’t find her, no one can because a woman that gorgeous is hard to miss.
I decide to swing by my office to make sure everything is in order for the deliveries tomorrow, and I empty the cash registers to put the money in the safe to be washed. After we declare it as sales, it’s clean money.
When I put the key in the doorknob, I find my office is unlocked. Who could have been in my office? Only I have a key, as my assistant manager has his own office and safe, so no one comes in here.
I check my desk, and everything is just as I left it, and there isn’t anything out of the ordinary. The list of booze to arrive tomorrow is here, and a message that Carla called is laying loose on my desk.
As if I need a note to remind myself that she probably wants to make up, gain closure, or just fuck.
I’m at a loss of knowing what that woman wants. I do tend to create my own drama with women as they usually bore me after a few dates.
I open my laptop that has the security feed and with one tap of a button it plays the footage to my office hallway. No one has been here according to surveillance but the hair on the back of my neck goes up.
Something isn’t right and I can’t piece it together. I need to be extra careful. Just because Gio Conti is dead doesn’t mean his family has forgotten where he died.
I will omit the part about my office when I talk to Dante unless anything else happens as he would go off on that but there’s nothing that I keep there that would incriminate us in anything. I have special places for anything that could jeopardize the family.
I’m perplexed at the weird evening I’m having and hope it’s not a bad omen. Italians are very superstitious and when I get a feeling in this line of business, it usually leads to something. It’s only a matter of time before it will all come to light. Now is the time to take precautions and remain vigilant.
Which is another reason I take my down time serious and I’m looking forward to going home and having a scotch as I lounge in my house in the country with my security staff. My phone beeps and I glance at it. Carla with an innocuous message.
The single life isn’t as fun for girls as it is for me. Maybe Carla’s needing a good fuck and I’m the one to deliver. Who wants to train a new guy when the last guy can’t be beat?
I knew she’d get tired of the boring dates, the cocktail hours that never progress on to a dinner date because the conversation is enough to make one want to pluck their eyeballs out from boredom and you catch yourself thinking you need to get up and walk out. But it’s not polite so you sit for another hour. Another hour of life that you won’t get back.
Work is always on my mind and it’s safer for Carla to not be with me since Conti died at our feet. But we were cleared of involvement and Commissioner Manara has backed off considerably.
We’ve laid low all summer which has slowed cash flow a bit, but it’s all the more reason I don’t want the obvious drug sales going on in my club. It’s the easiest way to go to jail forever short of racketeering and money laundering and I don’t need some two-timing thug to open that door.
Especially when it’s not our guy.
I stare at the video feed of the bar and recheck my hallway upstairs. It’s so still, as if the air conditioning isn’t even blowing dust, so my radar is up. But no one can enter my office without a trace. Or can they?
And if they did, I’d want to meet them. I’m a people person and I like to learn new things, so if they can pull off this little caper, I can’t imagine how badass they might be in other areas. Someone broke in undetected and that’s never happened before. Changing the locks won’t help. I’ll have to figure out a better system if that’s the case. But who was here?
Because I want to hire them.
I shrug it off as an odd occurrence but keep my eyes open as I tell Maria goodnight before checking in with the manager closing for me tonight. The valet turns to me and when our glances meet, he tosses me the keys to my sports car and I know he made sure no one fucked with it, which is why I tip him so much.
It’s only then that I see a grey Rolls pull out of the valet station.
“Who drives that car?” I question the valet who is eighteen but looks more like fourteen with no facial hair or body fat.
“I don’t know, but she was hot, and gave me a big tip.”