by J. L. Drake
“Yup, there’s the year.” My father squinted at the tiny writing.
“And he marks the pages that have been dealt with by splitting the page at the center bottom.” I pointed to a Post-it that marked a page from a few days ago. “That was the shipment where we found the girl.”
“And how many detective shows did you watch to figure this out?” Vinni chuckled.
“It’s more than looking at the book,” I explained. “You have to look at the pattern of events, and then cross reference them with his writing. He has a big ego in real life, and it shows on paper as well. Look how he writes the letter I.” I reached for the book and showed them. “See how all the I’s are bigger than the others. It took a little while, but after I started to think like him, I could figure out the rest. It helps to know his character.”
“And what about this Mikey person? Any thoughts there?” Niccola spoke up.
“That, I don’t know. All I can find is the name written a few times and some tally marks. What is strange, though, is every time Stefano writes someone’s name, he runs the pen over it a few times to make it be bold. Not once in the four times that he wrote Mikey’s name was it bolded.”
“Maybe he isn’t that important?”
“No,” I shook my head in thought, “I think it’s just the opposite. But whoever it is, I don’t think Stefano likes him.”
“Niccola and Vinni, you two start digging on who the hell this Mikey guy is,” my father ordered. “Elio and I will get the men ready to intercept this shipment. Circle back here in sixty for further instructions.”
“Sure thing.” Vinni started on his phone, while Niccola went for his laptop.
An hour later, there was a cavalry of men at the dockyard, all in different locations, well hidden from view.
I had dressed for the encounter, with several handguns hidden under my clothing. My mind centered on the bloody business that was about to happen. As I reached for the handle of the town car, my father stopped me, then asked our temporary driver to step out of the car.
“Son, I want you to stay back with me. I can’t risk you getting shot. The family business needs both of us, especially now, and you don’t need to be on the forefront risking your life. Our soldiers will leave their mark. They’re well trained.”
I knew he was right, and the day would come that I might stay back, but not this fight. This fight was mine.
“I’m different than you, Papa. I need to be in it, to see it. I’m not reckless, and I believe I’ve proven that to you time and again. This is quickly getting personal, and the fact that Stefano’s been spotted at the dockyard means I should be there too.”
My father looked out the window, digesting my words. He could order me to stay; he had that authority. He had always held me as an equal to him, but for some reason right now he was in the mind space of a worried father, not the head of our syndicate.
“It’s not just about us anymore,” he added.
“I know, and her face is what will be driving me home tonight.” I put a hand on his arm to assure him that my mind was in all the right places tonight.
“All right.” He nodded, and I saw the moment was over and his tone was all business once again. He glanced at his watch. “One hour.”
I rushed out of the car, pulled my weapon, and headed down the hill to where Vinni and Niccola were waiting for my approval to move in on the containers. Row by row, we cleared the area. We had a visual on a few of the Coppola men down by the water in a dingy. What we didn’t know was if the container of girls was here now, or if they were being dropped off somewhere else and then being loaded onto our ships a few at a time.
“Nic.” I nodded at a door that looked to have had the lock cut off. Niccola slowly opened it, and Vinni used his flashlight to peek inside. It was empty. I made a note of the container number to have the lock fixed later. We moved in unison. The water lapped at the shoreline, drowning out any noise of our approach. Trouble was it also covered any sound that might have helped us locate the girls.
As Vinni disappeared around a corner, I heard footsteps behind me. I pulled out my knife as a man suddenly charged me. Once he made contact, I jammed the blade into his neck and removed it as he fell to the ground in a slump. I felt another pair of arms wrap around me from behind and was pulled backward. Using my elbow, I knocked him in the ribs, bent down, and popped his shoulder out of the socket, freeing myself. As he yelped in pain, I sensed someone else behind me and instinctively ducked at a swoosh of air over my head as a fist swung above me. I threw my weight onto my hands and kicked his knee as he dropped. I tossed my knife, done with this shit, and popped him right between the eyes then followed up with his buddy. My silencer helped to not give my position away. I leaned down to the man I had knifed in the neck. He choked as he gurgled and fought to speak, his hands clenched tightly to the deep gash. I pressed my foot into his windpipe to open the wound wide, and the blood flowed freely.
“I have no sympathy for demons that prey on young children,” I whispered. “You’re getting off easy.”
“It’s not what you think,” he gurled with his last breath.
I rushed to catch up with the others, wondering what his comment meant. After a few turns, I stumbled right into an ambush on Vinni. I shot two in the back then punched the one who held my cousin around the neck. Vinni gasped for air as the man released his hold and fell. We both jumped him and punched until he went slack.
“Where’s Niccola?” I panted.
“That way.” Vinni shook himself and snatched up his gun from where it had fallen. We headed in the direction of the water.
I heard a groan and held my hand up to stop Vinni, who was hard on my heels. Something alerted me to danger, and I knew Niccola was ahead of us.
“Make the call,” I ordered and turned to stop Vinni from moving forward. If Niccola was seconds from death, the last thing his little brother needed was to witness it. I knew the call would spook them, and it might risk our chance at locating the girls, but I would not chance losing one of my own to the Coppola family. I could not carry that on my shoulders.
“The call is in.” Vinni appeared behind me again before he raced off in a different direction. Suddenly, it was as if someone pulled the plug on a levee, sending a tsunami of destruction onto the town below. My men swarmed the army of Coppola men at the dock’s edge, gunfire lit up the night, and screams filled the air as I carefully scanned the area.
I knew he was there. I could feel him.
Something cold prickled my back, and in one swift motion I whirled around, but not soon enough. The back side of a shovel smoked my head and sent me backward. Pain shot through my skull, but I managed to catch my footing and get into my fight stance. This was what I had trained for, why I had spent all those hours in the ring with my trainer, and I hoped it would pay off.
I blinked to clear my vison, and he caught me off guard and rammed me into a container, sending all the air from my lungs.
“Ahh, the mighty Elio Capri.” Stefano laughed like a crazy person as he held me down. “I should have known you were too proud to stay up on the mountaintop like your father.”
“And miss this?” I relaxed for a split second then sent a punch into his gut and head butted him hard sending him back. “Where are the girls?” I lunged, and he grabbed my arms, using my momentum to send us both into the wall. Again, I was on my feet ready for more. Blood dripped into my eye, but I blinked it back. My vision was now blurred in the left eye.
“Girls?” He chuckled, shaking his head as he limped backward. As I followed, my fingers twitched for my gun. “Oh, please, Elio, you need to see the bigger picture here.”
I spat the blood that pooled in the corner of my mouth.
“See what?” I yelled, feeling the anger fuel my adrenaline. “Entertainment?”
“Though I’ve been known to be theatrical, my dear rival, I knew sweet little Val would share my phone call performance with you.”
No, she didn’t, actually.
&nb
sp; “I figured we should meet face to face, since this is, after all, our fight.”
So, no mention of the notebook.
“She also mentioned Mikey.” I was pleased to see the corners of his eyes widened at that, and the creases in his forehead deepened.
“Well, sir,” he slipped his mask back down and held his arms open wide, “I believe this is where we part ways.” He glanced over his shoulder then turned back to me. “Tell Sienna I’ll take her out riding sometime.” He dove sideways behind a container.
I pulled my gun and fired off a shot as I charged after him, but he had disappeared.
The sound of a boat engine caught my attention, and I raced toward the water’s edge only to see its light disappear from view.
Fuck!
I swung around and looked for Niccola and Vinni and was relieved to find both of them safe. Our soldiers had rounded up any of the Coppola men who still could stand and had them lined up next to a pile of their dead cohorts. Frustration and fury at the situation filled me as I walked toward the car, and I shot two of the men in the head as I passed by. “Clean this shit up.” I spat the words at one of my men.
The car ride home proved to be a difficult one. My father got his rundown mostly from Niccola, as I stared out the window with my anger building over what had happened. Stefano’s words about taking Sienna for a ride bounced around my head. What the hell did that mean? Had Mariano told him about Sienna and her love of horses and how she enjoyed riding? Did Mariano know who Sienna was to me? Had I been underestimating Mariano this entire time?
“Elio?” My father drew me from my internal war. “Coming?” He looked down at me as I sat like stone in the car. I hadn’t noticed we were in our own driveway.
“Yeah,” I sighed.
“Is there something I should know?”
I closed my eyes and touched the cut on my head, glad to feel the sting. I used the pain to center myself before I exited the car and answered him.
“Stefano mentioned that he would be seeing Sienna very soon.”
“What?” Francesco said as he approached from behind my father. His face looked as jacked up as I felt.
After we entered the house, my father quickly filled him in on what had happened. He then brought him up to speed on the afternoon’s meeting.
“What about Stefano’s comment about Sienna?” Francesco brought us back to the main issue.
“Either I’m way off and Stefano is looking to take Sienna from Mariano, or,” I lowered my voice, “Mariano knows who Sienna is to me.”
“Both could be plausible.” My father rubbed his face.
“I’ll see what I can find out.” Francesco hurried away, and I rolled my shoulders to relieve some tension.
“If Mariano does know who Sienna is to me,” I whispered, “I can’t promise my actions, Papa.”
“Until then,” he motioned me to follow him, “let’s join Mama and let her see you’re okay.”
Donte caught my attention, and one look at his face made my stomach drop.
“Boss, may I speak to you?”
I fiddled with the tassel that dangled from the spine of my old journal. It was a lovely deep yellow and made me think of the sunflower fields next to me. I still couldn’t believe Wyatt had asked his sister to send me my box of memories. I had kept every note Elio had ever written me and the three journals that had carried me through most of my childhood. Some might think I should have tossed them away, not wanting to relive such pain and confusion, but for me it was not about the pain. It was about the good memories tucked between the bad times. The questions to my mother about life, friendship, and boys, or how much I loved Cara. I was so thankful to have saved all those memories of our friendship. Then there were my thoughts about when I first met Elio and how I felt so safe and free around him. It was my personal time capsule, and I relived each moment as I leafed through the pages, breathing in the heavenly notes as I let my mind wander.
I loved it here at the Hill House, minus a few exceptions. The hurt from today’s nasty conversation with Anna still burned at the insecure spots in my heart. I had no doubt that Elio loved me, and I knew Andrea and Piero did too, but I would never want to overstay my welcome or be a problem in general. It bothered me a bit that I had allowed old wounds to crack open at what I knew was only said out of jealousy.
My phone buzzed against my leg, and I saw it was a text message.
Mariano: Taking a quick shower, but drinks at my place in thirty?
I dropped my head back against the chair and wondered what I should do. Maybe Andrea would have a suggestion.
A loud bang had me on my feet and inside the living room where I caught sight of a battered Elio as he raced by the doorway in a fit of rage. I followed as he marched right up to Anna, wrapped his hands around her neck, lifted her off her feet and slammed her into the wall.
Andrea waved her hands to whisk the kitchen staff away from him. I glanced over at Donte who was also watching things unfold.
Oh, no.
“Who are you,” Elio growled at her, “to talk to my guest that way?” Anna tried to speak but couldn’t. “Just because your father did what he did for us doesn’t give you the right to throw stones. For this, you owe me.” He lowered her to the floor but waited a beat before he let go of her throat. “And, Anna, I will be collecting on that real soon.”
“Are you okay?” Niccola asked over my shoulder. I nodded, unsure if I should move and draw attention to myself. “Anna’s father was the one who warned us about the hit on Piero. Needless to say, we tolerate Anna’s behavior as a thank you. However, I think that gesture may have an expiration date.”
“I can see that.” I could barely hear my own words as I watched Anna rub her throat. Her eyes streamed with tears. No one moved to help her. In fact, Andrea turned on her heel and left the room. Anna just stood there, frozen, not at all registering my presence. “Where is Elio?” I muttered to Niccola. When he didn’t answer, I looked over my shoulder and realized he was gone.
I moved to open the freezer to get her some ice, but Donte pulled my arm toward him.
“Don’t,” he warned. “Trust me.” I nodded. He was right, because if she lashed out at me again, Elio just might kill her.
“Why did you tell Elio?” I had hoped he would keep it quiet.
“For two reasons, really.” He rubbed his arm as though uneasy. “If the boss found out I was there and didn’t tell him, I would be out of a job, and second, she’ll only get worse. Anna has had her eyes on the boss since the moment he arrived here, which means you are her number one target.”
“Elio and I aren’t even together.”
“I’m the head chef, Sienna,” he raised an eyebrow at me, “which means I see and hear all.” I brushed a hand through my hair, unsure what I should do next. “But don’t worry,” he smiled, “I learned quickly that I know nothing.”
“Good,” I huffed, letting go a little bit of tension.
“She’s wrong, you know, about you not being welcome here. I know for a fact that Andrea and Piero hope you stay. And, well, the boss…” he pointed to the still gasping Anna, “the proof is in her bruised vocal cords.” I smirked, and he laughed.
“Thanks, Donte.”
“Anytime.” He started to leave then turned back. “I know Wyatt left today. So as your person is gone for a bit, if you ever need company, you know where to find me.”
“I think I’ll take you up on that.”
“I hope you do.” He shot me a genuine smile and headed for the walk-in pantry.
“Oh, wait.”
“Yeah?”
“When we were on our walk the other day, it seemed like you remembered something when I told you about my favorite thing to do in Sicily.” His smile widened. “What was that about?”
He moved closer and lowered his voice, but his eyes danced with excitement. “When the boss first moved here, there were countless women who wanted his attention, but it was as if he didn’t even see them. As you ca
n imagine, over time, many theories were put out there about why the boss wouldn’t date anyone.” He warmed to his story. “One night, I was working late and wanted to run the menu by Mrs. Capri when I overheard Niccola telling a story about the boss’s great love. I mean, they were right outside the kitchen.” He shrugged with an unapologetic grin and tapped his temple as a reminder that he did see and hear all.
“I know, I know.” I laughed and grinned back at him. I urged him to continue with a roll of my hands.
“Well, Niccola’s point to his story was to try to explain to another family member that it wouldn’t do any good to bring her daughter’s friend to the house to try to introduce her. He said the boss had met his love at a swimming pond many years ago and had to leave her behind. He said it was as if he was cursed to never love another.” He stopped and placed a dramatic hand over his heart. “How romantic is that?” He gave me a look but, when I said nothing, he continued. “At the time, we all wondered if it was true or if he was just bitter over what happened to his family.” He paused. “Then you arrived, and suddenly he was so different. It was almost as if the part of him that could love was reawakened.” He shrugged. “As if all those fairytales you were told as a child might actually come true if you searched hard enough.” He laughed at himself. “Forgive me, I really am a romantic. When you told me about how you loved going to the swimming pond, I connected the dots, and I was so happy for him. I genuinely care what happens to the boss. Mafia or not, he’s a good person, and so are you.”
I felt a tear slip down over my cheek, revealing how deeply his words hit me.
“I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Well, for what it’s worth,” he leaned in, “I’m on Team Sienna.” He winked then turned to the shelves and made a show of trying to select the right spices.
A small laugh escaped my lips as I stepped out and saw Anna on unsteady legs, her face a study of fury and tears. As I slipped around the corner to go look for Andrea, I let a little bubble of happiness rise through the hurt of my Anna wounds.
“Okay, where could she be?” I said to myself as I continued my hunt for Andrea. It was as if everyone in the family had disappeared, and the staff scurried about like mice.
