“You… okay?” She asks delicately, like I’m a poorly glued, previously shattered piece of china.
“Yes,” I say a little too aggressively.
“Watch it.” Vince’s annoyingly deep morning voice echoes from down the hall.
“Sorry.” I bite my tongue.
“It’s okay.” She nods, pausing for a moment as she analyzes something. I think it’s me she’s looking at, but I can’t bring myself to meet her eyes. “You know, it’s difficult… this whole mafia business. I would know.” She nods gently, and I meet her eyes. “If you ever need to talk…” She shrugs. “I’m here.”
“Thanks, Jess.” I look back down at my coffee. As nice as the offer is, I really can’t succumb to divulging my innermost secrets to my sister-in-law. Especially not when she is married to my domineering brother, causing most of the issues in my life. I take a few sips of coffee and stand to my feet.
“You’re not going to stay for family breakfast?” Jess looks up from her phone, and I shake my head.
“Not today.” I jog out of the room, which is a mistake because it causes the worst headache I've ever had, and I make my way up the steps. While I walk, I slide through my phone to see a message from Vince.
Meet me in my office after breakfast.
It seems like this could be a good thing. Maybe he plans to deliver an overdue congratulations or some shit— and it really would be overdue. Or perhaps he has yet another gruesome mission for me to partake in. I hope it's the former and not the latter.
I take a hot shower in an attempt to wash off the night's events, trying to drown out the thoughts that were attempting to resurface when I was at my most vulnerable state last night. If this shit keeps happening while I sleep, I don’t know what I’ll need to take to get some rest at night.
After my shower, I quickly change into sweats and a t-shirt— Miu Miu— and head down to Vince’s office. It makes me feel uncomfortably like a kid again. Pops’ office was always off-limits unless you were summoned there. And then it was allowed, but you couldn’t touch anything but your ass to the seat right in front of Pops who was usually cross about something or other.
When I reach his door, I don’t knock. It’s too much of a bitter reminder of Vince’s new position as boss. Instead, I barrel in, and he looks up, aghast at my abruptness, and then the anger begins to surface.
Two of our guys are sitting across from him, and I now see that I’ve interrupted something. A heated discussion of some sort that I don’t have time to process because Vince points to the door for me to get the fuck out. I raise my hands apologetically, though I don’t feel much like apologizing, and close the door.
I refused to sit in the chairs lining the outside of the door like Pops’ office, like I’m a little kid in trouble, so I stand. Lean against the wall until the door clicks open, and the boys leave our home.
“Come in,” Vince calls from the inside, stoic and constrained. I sigh in annoyance at his formality and close the door behind me before taking a seat across from him. He types on his computer a bit before he even looks at me. I roll my eyes a few times in anticipation for whatever he has in store for me.
“Yes?”
He makes me wait for a few moments more, which would make me more irritated in another circumstance, but today I remember he owes me. I did well. This is why I’m here— for him to thank me.
“Alright,” he finally says, looking at me from across his desk. “Explain to me what happened last night.”
This isn’t starting the way I thought it would.
“Well, we completed the mission.”
“What was your mission?” He folds his hands across his desk and leans in inquisitively.
“Uh.” I clear my throat, and before I can say another word, he slams his hand on the desk.
“That’s precisely why you fucked up. Because you didn't know your orders.”
“What?!” I’m taken aback. Completely appalled and on the defense.What the fuck is he talking about?I did exactly what he asked. He’s fuming, apparently trying to calm himself down— which is a new one for him, I might add.
“The fuck, Vince? You said at all costs to make the mission work.”
“Yeah. At all costs, according to The New Era standards. We don’t just slit throats willy-nilly. You could have killed one of them, the lead security, not the entire household. Are you nuts? Police do not take kindly to us breaking their rules.”
“Stupid rules.” I purse my lips, and he slaps his hand on the table in front of me.
“You can’t keep doing things your way, Romeo!”
“It’s worked fine for me so far—”