by B. B. Hamel
But not if I let them scare me.
That was always Vlas’s goal, always had been as long as I’ve known him. He’s never been physically powerful, never been good in a fight, but he was smart and vicious. He used fear as a weapon, and it was a weapon that could be just as effective as bullets.
Maybe even more. Bullets just killed. Fear controlled.
If I let Vlas dictate how I lived, then I’d let him control me, too.
That couldn’t happen.
I turned away from Aida and pulled my clothes on. She watched me without speaking until I looked back at her. “Come on, get dressed. We’re going out.”
“Where?” she asked.
“We’re going to see Sergio. It’s been too long since I went there.”
She frowned and shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“I’ll explain in the car on the way over. Go on, get dressed. I’ll wait downstairs.”
She didn’t say anything for a long moment until she sighed and nodded. “Fine. I trust you.”
“Good.” I left her room and shut the door behind me.
I wasn’t going to let Vlas scare me. The bastard could throw whatever he wanted at me, I’d break him and protect my Aida, no matter what he did.
And the first step toward that was to simply live my life the way I wanted to, regardless of what that bastard was willing to do.
20
Aida
We parked down the block from Sergio. Dante wore one of his good suits, his hair pushed back, a little stubble on his chin from the night before. He moved a little gingerly, and I could tell he was still in pain.
He probably should’ve been in bed, not back in the city. But that didn’t seem to matter to him. He got out of the car, walked around to my side, and helped me out.
Another SUV drove past slowly as we headed down the sidewalk. I didn’t recognize the guy driving, but he nodded at Dante, who nodded right back. I stepped over a crack and leaned against him before slipping my hand into his.
“So,” I said. “You’ve been quiet. And you said you’d explain.”
He smiled a little. “I did.”
“Are you going to?”
“Yes, but I want Sergio to hear me too.”
I laughed. “Of course.”
He squeezed my hand and dropped it as we reached the bakery. He pushed the door open and stepped inside. It wasn’t crowded since the place had just opened, but there were a couple young guys sitting at the tables with their MacBooks out. The room smelled like coffee and bread, and a huge smile spread across my face. It felt like I hadn’t been in there in a long time, and I actually sort of missed it.
Dante walked to the counter and leaned against it. A young guy was working this morning and I didn’t recognize him. He was just a kid, dark hair, round baby face, wore jeans and a button-down black shirt tucked in.
“You new?” Dante asked.
He nodded. “Uh, Sergio hired me. I’m Marco, his nephew. Well, I’m his cousin’s kid, but I just call him uncle.”
“Do you know who I am?”
He nodded again, eyes wide. “Uh, you’re Mr. Dante.”
“Good. But just call me Dante.” He smiled at the kid and nodded at me. “That’s Aida. You mind getting her a coffee?”
“Sure, yeah. No problem.”
“And whatever else she wants.”
He nodded. “Whatever she wants.”
Dante winked at me then walked to the doors that led into the kitchen and disappeared through them. I smiled at Marco and he seemed frozen in place, like the fear wouldn’t let him move.
“It’s okay,” I said. “He’s not that scary.” I laughed a little. “Okay, he’s scary, but you’re on his side. So you’re fine.”
He nodded twice then turned away and ran over to the coffee machine. I smiled and leaned over to the counter to watch him. He made the coffee with quick practiced motions, and I wondered how long ago Sergio had hired him. Probably right after Dante got attacked that morning, probably needed someone to come in and do the opening stuff that we weren’t doing anymore.
Poor Sergio. I hadn’t thought about him in all this.
Marco returned with my coffee and I took it.
“Do you want anything else?” he asked. “The, uh, pastries are good. Uncle lets me have some after we close since they’ll go to waste anyway.”
“That’s okay,” I said. “How old are you, Marco?”
“Sixteen,” he said.
“That’s a good age. Listen, you’re not interested in your uncle’s business, are you?”
He hesitated. “Baking bread?”
I grinned. “Sure, baking bread.”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Uncle gets up pretty early.”
“Baking is a good job. You should learn all you can from him.”
“I don’t know,” he said again. “Maybe… I could learn from Mr. Dante.”
I sighed. “Now that’s exactly what I want you to avoid, okay?”
Before I could do more to warn the kid off, the doors to the kitchen opened and the smell of fresh dough and bread came wafting out. Dante nodded to me and gestured.
“Come on,” he said.
“Thanks for the coffee, Marco.” I smiled at him and followed Dante back into the kitchen.
Stainless-steel tables with wooden tops and gleaming counters greeted me. Sergio was standing at a station toward the back, cutting big chunks out of a larger bit of dough. He rolled the chunks, shaped them in the flour, then put them onto a baking pan. When the pan was full, he set it aside, and began the process again.
“Good of you two to come visit me,” Sergio grunted.
“Nice to see you too, Sergio. I’m glad you’re still busy.”
He laughed and didn’t look up from what he was doing. His eyes looked tired and his hair looked like it had more gray in it, but he seemed exactly the same otherwise. His hands moved with a practiced precision, cutting the dough, kneading it, shaping it, and tossing it onto the pan. He didn’t slow down, even as he talked.
“Always busy,” he said. “It’s my life now. Get up early, bake bread, go to bed early. Not such a bad way to live, all things considering.” He glanced up at Dante then looked back down at the dough. “Compared to some people, it’s downright pleasant.”
“What have you heard?” Dante asked.
“Oh, just the usual. You got shot at, you ended up killing a few men.” He slammed a hunk of dough onto the table with a loud, slick slap, then took a deep breath. “And the Russians think you’re a fool.”
Dante laughed a little and shook his head. “Now why the hell would they think that?”
“Because you are.” Sergio hit the dough hard with his hands and began to shape it, putting his muscle into the motions. “They’re walking around with axes, and you keep sticking your neck out, begging them to come and cut off your head.”
Dante laughed again and shook his head. “That seems dramatic, Sergio.”
“Isn’t it?” He finished shaping the dough and slammed it onto the tray. The whole thing rattled. He sliced off another one, smashed it onto the flour in a big puff of white, and he began to shape it. “Tell me something, why are you here today, Dante? What do you want?”
“I want to talk,” he said. “About this, actually.”
Sergio stopped kneading and slapped the dough hard. “You want to talk about how you’re being a fool? Then I’ll gladly indulge you.”
“Sergio,” I said, frowning, starting to feel a little nervous.
He ignored me. “What are you thinking, starting a war with Vlas? And don’t tell me he’s the one that began all this. It was your associate that robbed him, and before that, it was your men that pushed against his territory. You’ve been nagging at him for years, undercutting him on the drug market, pushing his protection racket hard. Oh, it’s all been little things, but over time, in aggregate, you’ve been fucking him hard.”
I stared at Dante, surprised. I didn’t kn
ow any of that. From my perspective, this had all come out of nowhere, all because Vlas was a greedy bastard.
But now I realized there was a long history here that I didn’t know anything about.
“That’s all true,” Dante said. “But it’s also true that none of it is worth starting a war over. Even all together, even if I had done it all at once. Vlas has been doing that petty shit right back at me, and you don’t see me out there trying to murder him.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Sergio grunted. “You’ve been through a war before. You know how it goes. Why would you court that?”
Dante was quiet for a long moment then he shook his head. “I’m sorry, Sergio. I’m sorry for what happened to you and I’m sorry this is happening again. But I’m the Capo now, and you know what that means. You understand the responsibility I hold.”
“I do,” Sergio said, his voice calmer. He sliced a piece of dough off and began to shape it. “Vlas tried to kill you after you tried to make things right with him. You can’t just turn away from this.”
Date nodded once and leaned against the table. I looked around and found a stool. I pulled it out and sat, sipping the coffee.
“He did try to kill me last night,” Dante said. “And I’ve been thinking about that. I’m not sure that was a serious attempt, not really.”
Sergio frowned. “How’s that?”
“He sent three random thugs,” Dante said. “Three guys with no skills, three nobodies. If he really wanted me dead, he would’ve used his own guys. And I know, they never would’ve gotten into that club, but still. He’d already hired those guys, he didn’t know I’d be there that night. They were probably tailing me for days.”
I blinked in surprise. “Wait, really?”
He shrugged. “That’s my guess.”
“So what was that then?” Sergio asked.
“I think he’s trying to scare me. And sure, if they succeeded, that would’ve been good. But I think Vlas is trying to fuck with me.”
“That’s one hell of a way to fuck with you,” I said.
Sergio laughed. “I agree with her.”
“Of course you do,” Dante said, waving him off. “She’s smart and we all know it. But the point I’m making is I can’t let Vlas scare me. I can’t let him do whatever he wants and force me to go into hiding. That’ll only show weakness.”
“And so you’re here to show that you’re not afraid, and you brought her with you to underscore that point.” Sergio tossed the last bit of dough onto the pan and slid it over next to the other tray. He shook his head and laughed. “That’s a fucked-up thing to do.”
Dante laughed and I stared at the men for a long moment.
“Wait,” I said. “I’m just here… to prove you’re not afraid?”
“That’s right,” Dante said. “It’s more than that though. You’re here to show that we’re both strong. That you’re not making me weaker. That’s what he thinks, Aida. He thinks you’re a weakness.”
“She is,” Sergio said. “But it’s not a bad weakness.”
“I won’t let him exploit it.” Dante’s fists balled up. “I won’t let him force my hand.”
“Stop,” I said, standing. “Stop, hold on. I’m just… you’re just using me to show that you’re not afraid? That I’m not a weakness?”
“Aida,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s not just that. I want to have a life. I don’t want you locked up in that house forever.”
“Dante, this is insane. We don’t need to risk ourselves just to prove a point.”
“That’s exactly what you need to do.” Sergio sighed and sounded exhausted. He rubbed his temple and left a smear of flour along his cheek. “I hate to admit it, but Dante’s right about this. Even if this war is fucking stupid, showing fear and weakness would be worse. It would only make Vlas hit you harder.”
Dante nodded his head. “That’s right. Sergio, what should I do from here?”
The old man shook his head. He picked up the first tray, took it to an oven, and slid it inside. He grabbed the second one, slid it in to join the first, and closed the door. He brushed his hands on his white apron and turned to face us, arms crossed over his chest.
“You’re going to have to kill Vlas or a few of his men,” Sergio said.
I felt my stomach drop. “Wait—”
“How many?” Dante asked.
Sergio shrugged. “As many as you can. Show Vlas that trying to hit you has consequences. You can’t let this get out of hand. Kill some of his men, show him you’re not going to be pushed around.”
“Dante—”
“All right,” he said, standing up straight. He winced slightly then nodded again. “I can do that.”
“Just be careful,” Sergio said.
“What happened to staying out of the war?” I asked, my eyes wide. “What happened to him being a fool?”
Sergio shook his head. “The boy’s a fool, he already knows it, and the war’s on. Might as well try and win the damned thing and come out alive.”
I stared at the men and felt a creeping sense of horror wash over me. Sergio may look like a kind older man, especially covered in flour and wearing an apron, but he was a killer, just like Dante. Together, they had so much blood on their hands, I couldn’t even imagine it.
“I’m getting something to eat,” Dante said. “Aida, you hungry?”
I shook my head and sat back on the stool.
“You can stay back here,” Sergio said as he started separating a new hunk of dough. “Go on, drink your coffee.”
“Yeah,” I said.
Dante smirked at me and brushed his fingers over my leg as he walked past and headed out the door. I watched him go and realized that I was still living under the delusion that Dante was somehow not a monster.
But he’s proven, again and again, that’s exactly what he is.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Sergio said, his voice low.
“What’s that?” I felt numb, like my lips would fall off my face.
“He cares about you. I’ve never seen him care about someone like he cares about you.”
I nodded and stared at the floor. “I believe you,” I said.
“Good. But you’d better be careful. You’ve figured out what kind of man Dante is by now, haven’t you?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“You seem like a normal girl. Despite your shithead father, you’re probably a nice person, right? Never got in trouble, never hurt nobody, right?”
“Right.”
“Then take it from me. That’s the way to live. There’s no glory or honor in the things that we do here. There’s nothing beautiful about killing and power. If you want any chance at a normal life, walk away and never, ever look back. Because Dante will suck you into his world, and if you let him, you’ll never come back out.”
I stared at Sergio, not sure what to say. He kept working, never looked up, and his face was completely neutral.
But his words shook me down deep. So much so that I had to take a few deep breaths just to keep from breaking down and crying right there on the stool.
Because I knew he was right.
I was a good person. A normal person, at least before all this. Now the idea of killing people, of men getting killed, of violence and drugs and everything else was becoming normal, or at least no so horrible. All because of Dante, because he was seducing me and drawing me deeper into his world.
The worst part was, I wanted it. I wanted to be in his world, wanted to live with him on the edge.
It scared me. I could feel it, exactly what Sergio said, hovering at the edges of my awareness. If I kept going, I’d fall into that life forever, and never be able to look back.
And I didn’t know if it was already too late.
21
Dante
We spent the morning at Sergio’s bakery. I met with some local folks like I used to, listened to their complaints about rough cops and loud neighbors, promised to fix a few broken sidewalks
slabs, that sort of shit. My guys were crawling all over the place, both inside and out, just to make sure we were okay. Around noon, I walked Aida back to the car and started the drive back to the suburbs.
“What did you and Sergio talk about?” I asked, trying not to sound too interested.
She frowned out the window. I glanced at her, let my eyes run down her pale blue top over her tight black jeans. Her hair was in a tight bun and a few strands hung in curls, framing her face. “Nothing,” she said.
“Huh.” I tilted my head, looking back at the road. “You seemed distant when you got back out.”
“I did?” She kept staring out the window. “I guess.”
“Aida.”
She looked at me and forced a smile. “Yeah?”
I frowned at the road in front of me. I could force her to tell me what the old shit said, or I could just let it be.
I knew what old habits would have me do. If this were a few years ago, I would’ve demanded she told me what went on in there, but I knew that wouldn’t do a damned thing. It wouldn’t help if I forced her into talking, especially not when she didn’t want to talk.
So I let it drop. “Nothing. Never mind.”
She turned and stared back out the window.
I let out a breath and drove. I could still feel her legs wrapped around my hips, feel her breath in my ear as my cock plunged deep inside of her. I didn’t want to let it bother me so much, but it did anyway. I wanted to know why she seemed like her conversation with Sergio didn’t go all that well.
But I managed to make it back to the house, park out front, and walk her up the steps without saying a word. She stepped in through the door, but I didn’t follow.
“You’re not staying?” she asked, and a glimmer of the Aida from just a few hours resurfaced.
“Got some work to do,” I said.
“Right.” She looked away and seemed to shut down. “I guess I can expect Gino.”
“He should be inside already.”
“Good. Okay.” She let out a breath.
