by Brick
My father was a man who didn’t like to repeat himself. Kat had been with him long enough to know that. My father had that look in his eyes that said his word wasn’t up for discussion. Kat knew not to test him in public, so she huffed, spun on her heels, and stormed out.
“Sabrina, are you ready?” Danny asked me, holding a hand out in front of me.
“Yeah, I guess.”
I hugged and kissed my father’s cheek, then made my way out as well. The ride home was a quiet one. I was grateful for that. I didn’t need Kat trying to talk to me when I really didn’t feel like speaking. Between the mayor having a possible heart attack and confronting the man from my past, my mind wasn’t up for the task.
Danny parked in front of the high-rise where the penthouse I owned, courtesy of my father, was. While two men guarded the car Kat was in, Danny escorted me inside. The lobby of the place was exquisite. Italian marble flooring shone beneath our feet. Lush greenery decorated the bottom of gold columns. The floor-to-ceiling windows had their golden drapes pulled close, creating an intimate-like atmosphere. I smelled food cooking, which reminded me that all I’d eaten were the small hors d’oeuvres at the function. The bar was lined with other tenants who owned penthouses in the exclusive building.
The bottom of my heels clacked against the floor. The attendants at the concierge desk smiled at me politely. I returned a tired smile and nodded a greeting back to them. Flat screens in each corner of the room showed that the media was already reporting what happened at the mayor’s mansion.
“An insider has told us that they believe the heart attack to be fatal,” the reporter spoke.
“Oh my goodness,” I mumbled as Danny and I stepped on the elevator.
I’d just thought the man had suffered a simple heart attack. The fact that he was dead had my gears turning. Once Danny had led me to my home, I patiently waited as he checked my home from top to bottom. No matter how many times I fussed and told him he didn’t have to do it, my father had trained him well enough to know better. He knew if anything happened to me because he failed to make sure I was safe, Daddy would kill him.
“Thank you, Danny,” I told him as I closed and locked my door.
“Rest well, Ms. Lanfair,” he said.
I knew he would stand at that door for another ten minutes to make sure all was well. Sometimes he stood there for longer as he said he never wanted to have a set pattern, just in case someone was watching. There was a panic button on the outside of my door that dubbed as a doorbell. If I pressed on the similar buttons in my home, Danny would see the red light flashing. I popped on the dimmers as I didn’t want too much light. Since I lived on the top floor, which was the most expensive, I had the best view in the place. A panoramic view of the Atlanta skyline greeted me. My home was clean, for the most part. A few pairs of shoes lay about here and there. Some files I’d been working on for my job were strewn about on the mocha-colored microfiber sofa in my front room.
Having my MBA with a concentration in finance management afforded me the luxury of working for a top financial analyst firm. It amazed me how much my life had changed over the course of two years. So much I had learned from being Daddy’s “favorite,” as my sisters often called me. His little puppet, they would say. While their words hurt, they had no idea the mental trauma I’d dealt with since that day I was abducted, then essentially rescued. So, I never told them the real reasons I stuck close to Daddy.
An hour passed. It was nine o’clock when I took a quick shower, dressed in a thin, spaghetti strap shirt and boy shorts, then sat up in bed. I kept a watch on the news as I tried to get some work done, to no avail. I was tired, and my brain reflected that.
“Monica, have your sources told you anything else on the mayor’s condition?” another anchor asked the reporter from Fox 5 Atlanta who was on the scene.
I’d seen her throughout the night. She still had on the gown she was in when I left the party. Her black hair blew in the wind as she spoke.
“So far, all we know right now is that his immediate family has been told to get to the hospital as the mayor was rushed to Emory an hour or so ago,” Monica answered.
“Now, if the mayor has indeed suffered a fatal heart attack, what does this mean for the city of Atlanta? Will the vice mayor, that many people don’t even know we have, step in?”
“That’s a good question, Richard. As we know, Alderman Leo Giulio is running against Sheila McIntire in the upcoming election in a few months. She is after his seat as alderman. But as of right now, he is still alderman for Atlanta, and he is also vice mayor. So, if Mayor Kasim has died, more than likely, Alderman Leo Giulio will step in as special interim mayor until a special election is held . . .”
As I was watching the news, my mind was in a fog. None of what had been said clicked for me. As I drifted off to sleep, the commotion of the night escaped me. I hated the nights when my nightmares would force me to toss and turn. Sometimes, I would hear Antonio’s voice in my head as I slept. Would relive the moments of that day over and over in my dreams. The fact that I had come so close to being a victim of the serial killer ate away at me.
Then there were times when the clicking noises, that taplike sound of the other man’s boots in the room, would also torment me. The sound of that arrow whizzing through the air, the way Antonio’s body had slumped over me, his blood trickling down my face and chest, seeing the arrow between his eyes—it all haunted me. There was that tapping sound again. It was far away, yet so close, that I jumped up from my sleep, frantically looking around the room.
I slammed my hand against the lamp beside my bed, trying to turn on the light. The shades in my room were open, so moonlight shone through casting shadows around my room. I was sweating I realized as I ran my hands down my face. I looked at the time to find it was three in the morning. My TV was on mute, but breaking news was flashing at the bottom of my screen. It had been confirmed that Mayor Kasim had indeed died.
I was just about to call my father when I heard it again. There was that tapping sound. It startled me so badly that when I tried to get out of bed, I fell to the floor, hard. I’d knocked my lamp off the nightstand beside the bed causing the light I did have to black out. My phone went crashing to the floor as I realized I wasn’t alone.
“Who’s there?” I called out, already having a sense of who it was.
I got no response which annoyed me.
“What do you want?” I yelled out into the room. “I didn’t say anything. I never have. What do you want?” I screamed out again.
Panic burdened my voice as I desperately snatched open the drawer to the nightstand and pulled out my gun. It was already loaded. I took the safety off and slowly stood.
“You can’t kill what you can’t see,” he said to me.
“I know who you are. I have cameras in my home,” I said in hopes it would make the man I knew as Marcel leave me be.
That tapping sounded again before he said, “That’s going to be a problem, now, isn’t it?”
I’d started crying and didn’t even know it. Ever since that day two years ago, I’d been afraid of dying. Had a healthy fear of being sexually assaulted. I still had the scars on my wrist and body to attest to my trauma.
“Just leave me alone, please. I’ve kept my word.”
“Your word was fine until I saw how easy it was for you to know who I was by my voice alone.”
He was closer now. I stayed in the glow of the moonlight as I knew he was in the shadows of my room somewhere. The only area where light existed was my bed and the small space next to it because of the moonlight. I heard a click. My shades started to close. He’d activated the sensor for the shades to close on their own. Now darkness engulfed the room. I was still sane enough to know I shouldn’t shoot blindly in the room, but fearful enough to jump on my bed and try to run for my closet which had a secret escape route behind the wall of my shoes.
I never made it to the closet. As soon as my feet touched the floor on the other side
of the bed, he snatched the gun away from me. A strong set of hands lifted me from the floor. One arm around my waist and another hand over my mouth.
“Shhhh,” Marcel said to me. “I want you to see and feel how easy it is for me to get close to you. Your security detail is good, but I’m better. Your cameras have been disabled.”
“Please, please, don’t kill me,” I mumbled behind his hand.
A tiny pinch against my neck made me think he had injected me with something. I still bucked and kicked. Not again, was all my mind kept screaming. Still, no matter how much I kicked and tried to get away, nothing worked. My adrenaline made my heart beat loudly in my ears. My eyes fluttered, and I was breathing so intensely, my chest hurt. I fell limp against his hold. I remembered little after that as life seeped left my body.
My eyelids felt heavy as I slowly lifted them. Where was I? Was I dead? Had he killed me? I moaned out as I turned over. Took me a minute to get my bearings.
“Finally awake, sweetheart?”
I jumped and fell forward to the floor. I heard heels run toward me. They sounded too much like that tapping sound Marcel’s shoes made anytime he was near. When hands reached for me, I swung out.
“Oh, holy fuck,” I heard Kat gasp. “She hit me, Othello.”
“Sabrina Lanfair, what in the hell is wrong with you?” my father barked.
I looked around frantically, finally realizing I wasn’t dead and my father was in my home. I was groggy like I had been drinking. I tried to get to my feet and stumbled around a bit, knocking wineglasses and an empty wine bottle from the table.
“I-I,” I stuttered my words. “What happened?”
“You drank too much is what happened. I know work is getting to you, baby girl, but getting sloppy drunk ain’t ever been the answer,” Daddy told me.
Drunk? I didn’t even remember taking a drink the night before. As the events of the night before came back to me, I knew alcohol hadn’t been what knocked me out. I looked up at him from the floor. He was dressed bespoke in a tan suit that had been tailored to fit his frame.
I frowned, still a bit confused. “What?”
“Get up and get dressed, Sabrina. Pop some aspirin and get moving. We have lunch scheduled with Leo and a few others today. Have you paid attention to the news? Mayor Kasim has died.”
Lunch? Mayor Kasim? Didn’t he know I’d been attacked in my home last night, or did he not care? I was about to speak my mind when I remembered Marcel’s words. Why didn’t he kill me? Why didn’t he just put me out of my misery? Did he leave me alive to assert some kind of power over me? Why did he let me live?
Daddy helped me from the floor while Kat stomped around in my kitchen grabbing ice from the freezer for her eye. She had a light complexion, so I was praying I hadn’t bruised her too badly. My head was still foggy, and a headache was imminent, but I got myself together as my father had instructed. I kept it simple.... Black, wide-leg slacks, sleek red pumps to match my red blouse, and I pulled my hair back in a bun at the nape of my neck.
As I looked in the mirror while doing my makeup, I studied my neck. I’d felt a small prick or something last night when that man had accosted me but didn’t see a mark or point of entry. While my hands were up, I took notice of the faint scarring around my wrists. I often took care of what I wore. When I wasn’t wearing long sleeves, I kept bangles and bracelets on to cover the reminder of what had happened to me.
I didn’t have time to dwell on that at the moment as my father was knocking on the door asking me to hurry.
“Now, Leo gave you some files on his companies the other day. Have you had time to look them over?” Daddy asked me once we were nestled safely in the back of his Navigator.
Danny was the driver, and Kat rolled her eyes at me anytime we made eye contact.
I nodded once. “I have.”
“So, what are the numbers on his father’s deli and such?”
“The financials look well, but there is too much money here and not enough business. Don’t get me wrong; the deli is very popular, but there are some figures here from Thursday through Sunday that make very little sense. This goes for the Laundromats and car washes as well.”
Daddy looked a bit nervous and chuckled. “Well, that’s why he wants to hire you. He wants you to fix the numbers; make them make sense.”
I sighed softly, then looked at my father. “So, he wants me to cook the books? Be honest with me, Daddy.”
He used his thumb and pointing finger to rub his eyes. I could tell he didn’t want to say too much in front of Kat.
He patted my hands in that fatherly way and said, “Why don’t we wait to talk about this once we get to the deli, baby?”
I had so many questions but nodded my head in understanding. Daddy had always run with the Italians, Jews, Hispanics, Arabs, and Asians. He was well-known in the underworld, very respected as well. That had never been kept a secret from us.
We made it to the deli and were escorted in by one of Leo’s men. I couldn’t help but wonder if Marcel would be in attendance. The deli was never opened on Mondays, so we were alone with the rest of the attendees. The place smelled heavenly. Whatever was cooking in the back, my stomach told me I needed to have some. I searched the room thoroughly and breathed a sigh of relief when I didn’t see Marcel.
Leo spotted us, smiled, then stood. He was a handsome man. No way could that be denied. His mixed race brought out the best of both worlds in him. Dressed in black slacks, a silver button-down, and nifty loafers, he smiled.
He wiped his mouth quickly with a cloth napkin. “Othello, good to see you, my man,” he greeted, taking my father’s hand and kissing his cheek.
That was the Italian in him. The sheik, Mustafa, stood with a smile as well. He nodded at Daddy. Same with Feinstein, Iglesias, and Sook Ahn. The elder Giulio was also in attendance. He greeted my father same as Leo had.
“Sorry we started eating without you, but we were starving,” Leo told my father, then walked over to Kat. He kissed her cheek. “Kat, the wives are waiting in the back for you.”
He was looking at her eye when he told her that. That didn’t sit well with her, but she smiled, greeted the other men, and made her way to the back.
“Sabrina, good to see you,” he finally greeted me.
“Same here, Leo,” I said.
Daddy pulled out my chair for me, and I sat at the table with the big boys, literally. Once pleasantries were out of the way, and my father and I had ordered food and drinks, I got down to business.
“Leo, I’ve gone over the files and—”
“Damn, right down to business, huh?” Leo cut in. “You don’t want to eat first?”
“I work best on an empty stomach as it reminds me never to get too comfortable. If I’m hungry, then I work harder toward my goal. It reminds me that if I don’t work, then I shouldn’t eat,” I told him pleasantly.
To be honest, all I wanted to do was get back home and crawl into the comfort of my bed. Marcel being in my home the night before still unsettled me. But, for my father, I’d do anything. So, I put my game face on and my best foot forward.
Laughter echoed around the table as Mr. Giulio spoke up. “I like your girl, Othello. Always have. She doesn’t mince words.” His voice croaky and filled with unsaid wisdom.
“Got that from her mama. Trust me, it’s only cute at this age,” he said, then laughed.
All the other men laughed as well at a joke I didn’t readily get. But I continued.
“As I was saying, looking over the files you gave me shows way too much revenue for the deli. If I’m to understand what my father explained to me, you want me to fix this.”
Leo and his father nodded. He got ready to speak, but I held up a finger to cut him off.
“First thing first, if I’m to fix this, I need honesty up front. Is this money laundering? I ask because if there is a possibility I can go down in a RICO case, I want to be well aware of that.”
There was a hushed silence in the r
oom.
Sook Ahn said smiling, “Othello, you said she was a financial analyst, not a lawyer.”
“Please, Mr. Sook Ahn, address me as I’m the one with whom you will be doing business. I understand in your customs and tradition, it may not be common for a woman to speak as such, but if anyone is going to gamble with my ass, it will be me. My sisters are lawyers. It helps if I’m up to par with certain terms and phrases in the business I’m in.”
I looked at each man around the table, square in the eyes. Most people would have assumed I was some badass chick who could hold her own in a room full of men, and that was true on some fronts, but to be honest, after last night, I wasn’t sure of what I was. That would make the second time I’d begged one man for my life. And it was eating away at me.
All the men looked at my father with curious expressions.
He proudly smiled, then said, “You heard the woman.”
The rest of the meeting went off without a hitch. The talk eventually turned to Leo taking over as interim mayor.
With a smile on his face, my father asked, “When is the city council meeting to vote on when to swear you in?” he asked Leo.
“We’ll talk about that later when the lady isn’t around,” Leo answered.
For some reason, this made all the men at the table very happy. Didn’t take a genius to figure out why. With the kind of business they were in when no one was looking, Leo being in office was a good thing. If Leo did a good enough job while in interim, he would be a sure win for mayor if he decided to run in the special election.
I was all faux smiles until my food was brought out. I frowned. My heart leapt to my throat. Palms started to sweat at the sight of the man holding my food. Marcel. He was dressed in all black, hair net on his head, white marinara sauce-stained apron tied around his waist. I stared at him so long that if any of the men had been paying attention and not looking at the proposals I’d given them, they would have known we knew each other.
“Steak and potatoes for you, Mr. Lanfair, and chicken Parmesan for you, miss,” he said to me like he hadn’t been in my home, uninvited, the night before.
