by Bethany-Kris
“Instant,” Luca said, heading for the cupboard where he kept the coffee. “Two sugars, right?”
“A half of a teaspoon, actually.”
That had him glancing over his shoulder. Sitting on the stool at the end of the island, Zeke raised his brows and smiled slightly at the unspoken question from his son.
“Sugars were high six months ago at my check-up,” Zeke murmured, folding his hands together on the kitchen island. “I needed to cut back.”
Something else he hadn’t known. He also hadn’t asked. The tinge of guilt dancing at the edge of his mind made Luca face the cupboards and focus on making coffee instead of delving into something that he wasn’t ready to deal with.
Not yet, anyway.
“Your mother wanted me to make you an offer,” Zeke said when Luca pushed a steaming cup of coffee across the island. “If you’re interested in hearing it.”
“An offer for what?”
“You go back to school, finish your law degree, and we pay—”
“I don’t need you to pay for anything. I have money.”
Not the trust fund promised by his parents once he turned twenty-six and had a clear direction in his life, but still ... he did have money. His current job didn’t pay in pity or thanks.
“Not to mention,” Luca added when his father frowned, “I don’t have time to go back to school. And I’m thirty years old; I don’t want to go back and finish the degree. I haven’t wanted to fuck with that mess since I quit a few years ago.”
Zeke hummed under his breath. “Right around the same time you began chasing invisible things, son. When you decided the family business wasn’t—”
“Did you come here this morning to have another fight with me about my career? Or the fact I’m not doing what you want me to do? Because we’ve gone over this, Dad, and if it hasn’t been obvious enough leading up to now, I don’t care what you think.”
“It’s not too late, Luca.”
“What?”
“You’re right, you’re thirty. It’s not too late to get back into the business. Pledge to la famiglia, work hard for the next couple of years, prove your worth and get your button. Make yourself a nice spot next to Nazio as his father begins the process of trading seats with his son. Wasn’t that what you wanted? What changed?”
Once upon a time, yes.
But life wasn’t a fairy tale.
Growing up, all he wanted more than anything was to be Nazio’s right-hand man in everything. Life, business, and anything that came up in between. Shit, the guy even married his sister. One of Luca’s first memories was running through the forested path that connected their childhood homes with Naz. They had always had one another’s backs.
That hadn’t changed.
He still picked up any call Naz made. Never hesitated to say yes when his friend needed something. He would be loyal to the Donati name and business until the very end. Nothing had changed in that regard.
Luca was also doing what he was doing now because of his love for his friend. Because who else was going to get the answers Naz needed?
“Is that happening?” Luca asked.
“Nazio taking over?”
He only shrugged.
Zeke smiled thinly. “It is. Soon. It’s something that takes time which is why—”
“You’re trying to get me to sit my ass down beside Naz before someone else can.”
His father didn’t deny it.
“No one will protect him the way you will,” Zeke murmured. “Nobody will be as loyal to him as you are. We know it—he knows it. His father knows it, Luca. It’s why we raised you two like we did. Two generations of Donatis and Puzzas have worked side by side in Cosa Nostra. You and Naz should have been the third. And what, these things you chase, this job of yours, it’s more important than the foundation we built for you two? Is that what you want me to tell Cross when the time comes?”
“This job ...” Luca dragged in a sharp breath, holding his anger in check but barely. His father, didn’t get it; maybe he never would. “I’m good at what I do. I’ve had contracts all over the country. I’ve found people that no one else could. So, it’s not what you want me to do but it’s also what I need to do right now.”
Until he found Penny.
Until he had answers.
Luca wasn’t the type to give up. And up until he had what he needed to satisfy Nazio, then he would stay right where he was doing what he needed to do. He would take every job that came up in between because it kept his head above water.
“And I’m doing what I promised Naz I would,” Luca added.
Zeke leaned back a bit in the chair, observing his son with more intensity than before. “Are you still looking for ... her?”
“His father told him to leave it alone—focus on famiglia and the business. Not me.”
“Because he can’t. You don’t work for Cross. You are not his made man.”
Exactly.
And he wouldn’t.
He answered to no one.
Grabbing his coffee for a drink, Zeke downed half of the steaming mug in one go. Maybe his father believed he wasn’t going to get what he wanted because the next words out of Zeke’s mouth were simply, “What if I asked, Luca?”
“Asked what?”
“For you to stop. Stop searching. Stop all of this. Be who you are meant to be. What happens when you find something you’re not supposed to?”
“I don’t—”
“Only two things happen, then, son. Either someone makes you answer for what you found ... or you’re left explaining why it happened when no one needed to know. Whichever way the chips fall, it only ends badly for you.”
Luca quieted.
So did his father.
Before he could ask Zeke what he meant by that, the ding of his cell phone in the bedroom had him excusing himself from the kitchen to grab the device. A quick check of the screen gave him the confirmation he needed that the meeting later in the day was still a go. Now, he had to get back to doing his job.
Leads on Penny were coming through.
He couldn’t leave it alone.
Except by the time he returned to the kitchen, his father was already gone. The only thing that proved Zeke had even been there in the first place was the empty coffee mug sitting in the sink, and the lingering scent of sandalwood and crisp spice. His father’s cologne.
Everything else was exactly the same.
For Luca, nothing had changed.
THE REPORTER MIGHT not have wanted to talk, but he gave Luca a bone to find. Really, that was all a dog needed to start digging.
Or rather, Luca.
Once he knew the area to look for—like the dead Smithenson man and any secrets his family was attempting to keep hidden—the only thing left to do was uncover them. Well, he needed the right people looking in the right places to uncover them, so to speak.
In the process of his hacker contact digging through every single morsel of information regarding the political family that he could, the guy managed to stumble upon rumors of an upcoming business deal. One between a dead man and another guy, a businessman from Florida, who was very much alive.
Two things were important in that information to Luca. Dead men didn’t make deals—business or otherwise. And there was always a little bit of truth to every rumor. It took a bit more digging, some money shoved into the right hands to figure out why the deal was still apparently on the table despite Elijah being dead, and Luca had what he needed.
A meeting at a pizzeria in Hell’s Kitchen between associates of the now-dead Elijah Smithenson and the Florida businessman. Someone else decided to see the deal—whatever it was—through.
Luca still had a few issues with the whole thing. The most important being the fact that he was chasing what he figured would end up being nothing more than another rabbit hole. There was no reason to suspect the meeting had anything to do with Penny. She had been long gone from New York for weeks without even a whisper of a possible retu
rn either from the underground criminal networks or on the dark web.
Unfortunately, Elijah was still Luca’s only lead he could connect back to her. Even dead, it was possible that whatever affiliations he had could somehow provide Luca with the details he needed to fill in some blanks. He would take anything at this point.
Everything else had long gone cold.
Besides, spying on the meeting in Hell’s Kitchen would take all of an hour out of his day. Maybe even less, depending on how it went. Then, he could head over to meet with a man in lower Manhattan whose employee had up and disappeared with a hundred grand of the company’s cash that he wanted to be returned as soon as possible.
So, without any details as to what the meeting in the Kitchen would entail or the supposed deal taking place, Luca found himself sitting in the passenger seat of his black Bentley watching the view into the pizzeria through large bay windows. He’d visited the business a couple of hours before—just long enough to grab a slice of pizza and place two bugs on both sides of the dining floor. That covered all his bases and would let him listen in when the guests of the hour finally arrived.
At worst, he was wasting his time. At best, he might gain something useful that opened up a new door or answered questions.
Luca wasn’t hopeful.
He also wasn’t giving up.
The other thing he hadn’t done?
Tell Naz.
Partly because his friend was busy this week and when he wasn’t, Naz was always with Roz who he didn’t want to know they were still looking for Penny. The other reason he hadn’t told his friend that he might have another lead to follow was simply because ... well, if he wasn’t hopeful, then why should he give false hope to Naz?
He wouldn’t.
Couldn’t.
A black car with darkened windows pulled up across the street at the same time Luca’s phone dinged in his lap. He pulled the phone up, unlocking the screen to read the message as he eyed the new arrival at the same time.
Except he couldn’t do both.
And one was more interesting.
The woman who stepped out of the backseat, that was. Her pin-straight black hair wasn’t covered by a hat this time. His slightly rolled down window allowed him to hear what she said to the man who had opened her door just seconds before.
“They’ll be here in five,” the man said. “And you know the rules.”
“Ten minutes—max,” Penny replied. “I know.”
Her voice hadn’t changed a bit; it was still light like air. Musical, even. But she was nothing like the girl he used to know.
Across the street, Penny and the man headed for the pizzeria. Luca finally checked that message on his phone.
It was his hacker contact.
With more info.
The guy from Florida—finally found what I was looking for. Known trafficker. Kids, mostly. Watch yourself, Luca. That’s a slippery slope.
He didn’t have time to process what that news meant. A second car had just pulled up to the pizzeria.
Two men in suits stepped out.
No one else.
No ... child.
He didn’t know why, but something told him bad shit was about to happen.
11.
Penny
A great wig, makeup to enhance one’s features, and colored contacts could do a great deal to change someone’s appearance. It was the only extra precaution Penny could really take for her second trip to New York within weeks. It also wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy the worries that Dare—and Cree, occasionally—continued to voice right up until the moment she stepped on the private jet.
Nonetheless, while she watched her reflection in the glass of the pizzeria’s bay window, she figured she hadn’t done a half-bad job on making herself look different than the last time she was in the city. Her skin wasn’t as ghostly with a pink-toned foundation, a touch of bronzer, and a dark contour to make her face appear more oval, and her jawline a bit softer. Add in the black kohl she had smoked around her eyes with a winged flair and black wig, and she was one step up from her usual ghostly paleness.
Not by much, though.
She also hated heavy makeup. And wigs. Contacts, too, the itchy bastards. Since landing in New York only hours earlier, she learned something else that she didn’t like very much, as well. This entire city—maybe the state.
She felt too comfortable here.
Or ... comforted.
A sense of nostalgia came along to fill her whenever she recognized a building that she had once visited. Or worse, a memory hit her while she drove down a familiar street and then she was lost to a different time and place that shouldn’t matter to her anymore because she wasn’t the same person she used to be.
Frankly, Penny blamed Cree.
And his mention of the after.
Or what could be.
It had been on her mind for days. The sleepless nights that followed certainly didn’t give her anything else to think about, either. All fun things.
It was only the squeak of the chair next to hers that finally pulled Penny from her thoughts. They had barely been sitting down inside the business for more than thirty seconds, but she was already distracted and annoyed. Neither of those spelled good things for her. Or for the man next to her.
She couldn’t afford to be anything but ready at the moment. This deal—even if it was just a sham for her to help a trafficked girl—would be over before it even began if the men she was supposed to meet to make the transaction thought something was up. Even if that something was just her distraction.
“Stop fidgeting,” Penny told her companion.
Chase was his name. Another assassin for The League who just so happened to be available to take this trip with Penny and see the job through. Cree tried to play it off like it was nothing more than coincidence, but she didn’t think so. Chase was one of the few people she could stand to talk to for more than a few minutes at a time—he’d also been on the team that trained her ... and the first man she ever allowed to sleep with her.
Not in the sex sense.
Although, he had offered.
No, on one of her few free nights out during that first year of her training, Penny did a stupid thing that left her less than sober and in need of a chaperone to make sure she didn’t choke on her vomit in her sleep. Chase was there ... he did the right thing.
Earned her trust, anyway.
A rare feat.
So few people had it.
“Not fidgeting,” Chase replied. “Getting a better look.”
“At what?”
“Our oncoming company. Check it out.”
Well, they were timely.
Penny would give the sex traffickers that, but not much else. They weren’t worth anything more, honestly. And if this were any other job for Penny, then those two men stepping out of the driver and passenger seats of a nondescript black vehicle wouldn’t make it out of the pizzeria with a heart still beating in their chest.
But today wasn’t about death.
It was something else entirely.
A victim was on the line.
“Where’s the girl?” Penny asked, never taking her stare away from the men shutting their doors and doing a quick sweep of the street and movement around them. “She should be—”
“Maybe in the back. You know how this works out in broad daylight. Money first, transaction later. Sometimes at a different location. Play their game, and we see how it goes.”
Chase made sense.
Penny still didn’t feel right.
“That wasn’t the agreement made when contact was made,” Penny murmured.
“Shit changes all the time,” Chase replied. “You know that.”
That didn’t mean she trusted anyone but especially not skin traffickers who specialized in the trade of children. If there was anything she learned in her life, it was that monsters would always do the most monstrous things when given the chance.
Her current problem was bigger.
She didn’t have the time to reconsider their situation or the meeting. The men entered the pizzeria before Penny and Chase could discuss a change in their plans, forcing them to go ahead with their original one.
The thing was, that required a girl. One that was supposed to be delivered in exchange for the hundred grand that was to be transferred into an offshore bank account during the meeting. But there was no girl ... and she was pretty sure there wasn’t one waiting in the back of the black car—that they had left running—outside.
The few patrons of the pizzeria barely looked up from their pizzas or phones when the men entered. All the details had already been passed between the two parties. Chase and Penny could arrive first—although real names hadn’t been given, of course—and would sit on the right side of the bay windows together. Easily seen. Quick to leave when it was over. She would wear a black, long-sleeve dress with a red necklace. Chase would also wear a black suit with a red tie to match.
There was no mistaking them.
The men had no issue spotting them.
“Get this done,” Chase said, standing from the table as the men approached without greeting, “and we get the fuck out, right?”
“Right,” Penny agreed at the same, quiet level. “Once we have the girl.”
“Not if it means—”
“Where’s the product?” Penny asked the taller of the two men, the one on the left with a scar that ran down his cheek and left the side of his face droopy when they came to a stop only two feet away from their table. “Money won’t be transferred without at least an inspection.”
“Sorry, my wife is a bit ... particular about this sort of business,” Chase added, smiling tightly. “But she is correct. We were promised a look at the—”
“There is no girl,” Scarface said.
Shorty on the right quickly added, “The Elite send their regards to the white ghost.”
They wouldn’t. They wouldn’t be so brazen; so stupid. There wasn’t a chance.
And yet, Penny knew in that moment how badly of a mistake they had all made. Her, actually. Just her. She had made a terrible mistake. Maybe it was the emotion involved in these things that made it all unclear for her.
