Children of Ambition

by J. J. McAvoy

  “Tell me what you’d like me to call you and I’ll say that instead,” he said as he texted on his phone. “Love.”

  “Dona,” The moment I said it and saw his grin, I regretted saying anything.

  “Dona is something only family calls you, correct?”

  I walked right into that one, I thought. Wow, I mused, stepping into the beautiful Egyptian lobby. The walls were covered with hieroglyphs all the way to the top. The ceiling was a point, where light came down right over the fountain which spurted water upward and back down like an umbrella.

  “The final numbers, Sir,” a woman with tan skin, long brown hair, and big hazel puppy-dog eyes said as she handed Gabriel an envelope. When he took it and checked the contents, her eyes shifted to me. But when I looked back, she quickly looked away again.

  “They’re wrong,” Gabriel said to her and she froze before leaning in.

  “Everything looks fine to me—”

  “Don’t worry, I’m sure it’s just a mix up at the bank. We were planning on going later, but…”

  “I can go. What’s the matter?”

  “It’s fine.” He smiled at her and reached into his pocket, pulling out a list. “Can you help get all of these for me instead?”

  “Of course,” she said, frowning as she read.

  I couldn’t help but be curious. However, before I could see, Gabriel took my arm and linked it with his, walking me out the front doors.

  “I have many questions,” I said as I noticed the staff and security nod to him as we exited onto the street.

  “Then ask,” he said, putting his phone back in his pocket before looking over to me. He grabbed my hand as we started walking.

  “Do you own this hotel?”

  “No, but I know the person who does,” he replied.

  “So, this person just trusts you to handle the management of it?”

  He shook his head again. “They don’t trust me, but I don’t make it easy for them, either.”

  His mouth was moving; I knew he was answering my questions but it didn’t feel like I was getting anywhere.

  “Okay,” I paused right outside a bakery, the line of which was annoyingly long. “What’s your connection to the hotel? Why do you—”

  He stuck a piece of cake he’d stolen from the vender outside between my lips, before licking his fingers. “On second thought, why don’t you just observe, and when it’s all over I’ll explain?”

  Licking the frosting off my lips, I glared at him, but he didn’t even have the decency to look back. Instead he placed a hundred dollars into the tip jar of the vender before taking my hand again. When I tried to pull away, he held on even tighter.

  “It’s a beautiful city,” he said, looking at the skyscrapers. “In an industrialist type of way.”

  When I looked up at the buildings, I couldn’t help but think of my father. “Of course, it’s beautiful. It was built by us… From digging for potatoes to sitting on clouds. Under smoke, with dust in all our mouths, raging winds trying to lift us from the ground, and the terrible burden of destiny on our shoulders; we built this mighty, chaotic, passionate, vicious, and unforgiving wonder of the world. So, when we say I am from Chicago, the rest of the world knows you are a fighter.”

  Blinking rapidly, I looked over to him to find him staring at me, but the look in his gray eyes was odd. He looked sad…and worried. “That’s what my father used to declare proudly until my mother let him know many Italian immigrants helped… Why am I telling you this?”

  The question was more to myself than him, but he answered with a soft smile. “I’m not sure, but I’m enjoying it. Tell me more once we’re done here.”

  “I’ll pass. Wait, here?” I looked in front of me, and sure enough across the street was Wilson Bank.

  He’s seriously robbing a bank? I thought as we walked inside, however that question left my mind as I saw him reach for a deposit slip and actually begin to fill it out.

  “What are you doing?”

  He glanced up and scanned the room before looking back at me. “Banking.”

  Urgh! This man! I’d actually never felt the need to face-palm, but he made no sense to me. He didn’t act normally, nor did he seem to have a care in the world. Finishing up, he walked to one of the lines for the teller, checking his watch as he went.

  “Love,” he said, pulling me to him and wrapping his arms around my body, his lips at my ears, “my life is about to be in your hands. I just need you to intercede on my behalf. But don’t fight them…”

  “What? Let me go and who—”

  Before I could question further, he pushed me down to the ground as two men came into building, firing bullets into the celling.

  “EVERYONE DOWN NOW!” The first man in all black with a monkey mask on his face yelled.

  “MOVE IT!” I heard to the right where the second and third gunmen was already behind the teller glass. With a semi-automatic pointed in their direction, he slowly kicked the tellers out until they were in the main lobby with us.

  I glanced over to Gabriel, who quickly rolled something in the gap between the base of the door to the teller both. However, whatever it was beeped as soon as it entered the booth and grabbed their attention. All three of the monkey heads, still pointing their guns, turned towards him. Gabriel stared at them wide-eyed.

  “What did you just do?” the first monkey asked, walking out of the booth towards us…him.

  “I…I…noth…nothing,” Gabriel stuttered…and I didn’t know him well, I didn’t know him at all really, but I knew he wasn’t the type of man who stuttered. He was acting. All of this was an act.

  BANG!

  I was shocked when the robber fired, but the bullet didn’t hit Gabriel, instead hitting the ground beside him.

  “Lie to me again and the next one is going through you!” The monkey yelled, grabbing his shirt.

  This is some acting…kinda wish he’d told me to bring a snack.

  Gabriel grabbed on to his wrist and said, “It’s an alarm. You can kill me, or you can take what you want before the police get here, and they’ll be here much quicker than you think.”

  “FUCK! You little shit!” The man yelled, taking the end of his gun and hitting it into Gabriel’s face. You’d think once was enough for the cameras but he kept going. Gabriel blocked it with his arm and glanced at me wide-eyed, as if he was telling me to do something. I’d seen him fight. He could easily take the idiot on his own.

  “Intercede,” He mouthed to me.

  I shook my head and mouthed back. “Not my fight.”

  And I wasn’t going to get involved. It was only when I saw blood from his arm—the arm Ethan had shot—that I moved. I wasn’t sure why, but I did.

  “Stop!” I sat up, pushing the gunman away. “He’s bleeding, you fucking dumbass!”

  “Who the fuck are you talking to?” He turned to me.

  Rising to my feet, I dusted off my shoulders. “I’m talking to you, Curious George! How many other people in here have monkey heads on?”

  “You must be stupid, bitch—”

  “I’m stupid?” I laughed. “You come in to rob a bank, you don’t take anyone’s cellphones or tie anyone up? And you lose your cool over a freaking alarm? What is this, amateur hour? Someone oughta smack the ape out of you all—”

  “SHUT UP OR YOU CAN TASTE A BULLET!” he hollered, pointing a barrel at my face.

  In a flash, Gabriel was on his feet and in front of me, standing between myself and the barrel of the gun. “Best be pointing that thing at me, mon ami. Your odds of living are higher that way.”

  “Let’s try it—”

  “One. ONE! ENOUGH! ONE!” One of the other monkeys yelled, coming over to us and pointing his gun at me. “Both of you on the ground and shut up, or I swear, we will shoot you.”

  I glared at him. It was because Gabriel grabbed on to me and pulled me down that I even got back on the ground. They kept their guns on us as they moved back behind the teller counter.
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  “Where the hell did you get these guys? They’re morons,” I whispered to him.

  BANG!

  It happened so quickly that it took me a second to realize one of the other prisoners had tried to make a run for the door. Now he was lying face down on the ground, just a few feet from freedom, a bullet in his spine.

  “WE AREN’T FUCKIN’ AROUND HERE! SIT DOWN! SHUT UP!” It was then that we could all hear the sirens outside. “SHIT!”

  I looked to Gabriel and he just stared at the teen’s body before looking over to me, his eyes cold, deadly, as he said, “These aren’t my guys.”

  “What?” My mind started to work overtime as I replayed the last ten minutes in my head. If they weren’t his and they weren’t mine, then they were real bank robbers. But what were the odds of them robbing the same bank as his on the same day…wait. His words from earlier coming to mind.

  He’d said, “Don’t fight them…”

  He had known they were coming. But he wasn’t working with them.

  I looked at him again but his head was down, his hand on his arm. Anyone would think he was hunched over from pain. But since I was so close, I could see the wicked grin on his face.

  He’s robbing a bank while it’s being robbed. They were his Trojan horses.

  He must have known I was looking because he lifted his head slightly to look at me. The grin on his face widened. “I’m one-eighth Greek and the hotel is not mine. It’s yours. A wedding gift. And when this is over, we’ll rest there for the night.”

  “You’re telling me this why?”

  “Because you’re smiling and it isn’t fake, and so I’m glad.”

  I paused. Reaching up to touch my cheeks… I was smiling. I didn’t know when that had happened. It didn’t matter because I couldn’t look away… Part of me was once again in shock, knowing this wouldn’t be the only the last time I was Gabriel surprised me. But knowing that made my heart race.

  What was going to happen next with him?

  NINETEEN

  “It’s not exactly love at first sight.

  It is more like soul recognition.”

  ~ Lynette Simeone

  DONATELLA

  The great poet Virgil once said, “Whatever it is, I fear the Greeks even when they bring gifts.” As I stood on the balcony of the tallest building in Chicago, my building apparently, I wondered if I should be at least one-eighth concerned about this gift and the man gifting it to me.

  “Hello, big brother, how are you this evening?” I asked, lifting the phone to my ear, not looking away from the city lights.

  “I’ve been trying to reach you all day,” Ethan stated.

  “You may not have noticed, but I was held hostage in a bank robbery,” I said cheerfully.

  “We noticed,” Wyatt’s voice came on the line. “What happened? Are you alright?”

  “I’m fine. The S.W.A.T team took out two of the three men, and the only hostage shot is apparently recovering—”

  “What happened with Gabriel, Dona?” Ethan questioned much more directly.

  “He reopened his wounds, but a doctor came by to see him as said he’ll be fine just as long as he doesn’t have too many days like—”

  “Donatella, don’t be coy.”

  “Don’t be demanding,” I snapped, then took a deep breath, not wanting them to kill my mood. “Ethan, Wyatt. I’m fine. In fact, for the first time in a long time, I feel great. I’m with Gabriel; I don’t know when I’ll be home, don’t wait up and don’t bother me for now. Love you both. Bye.”

  Hanging up, I slipped the phone back into my pocket, shifting my gaze to the W of Wilson Bank, the light of the sign now dimmed. It had taken over four hours before we were free to leave. While the S.W.A.T team snuck into the building and helped people get out, Gabriel did something to the computers. He was wounded but acting chivalrous, demanding the women be saved first, just to give himself more time. By the time we made it back to the hotel, the coverage of the robbery had been played at least half a dozen times on every major network.

  BUZZ.

  Turning around and heading back into the massive suite, I saw Gabriel come down the stairs dressed in jeans that hung off his waist and a dark shirt he hadn’t bothered to button. He was still drying his wet, brown-blonde hair.

  “Are you expecting someone?” I asked him as he moved to the door.

  “Someone, no. Things, yes,” he said, opening the door to the same shy, puppy-dog eyed woman I’d met earlier. She wasn’t alone this time.

  The first two people who came in after her brought dinner trays. They didn’t just set up in the dining room but the entire living area, moving the couches back and placing them around the coffee table. They set the small table and even lit candles, while another two workers wheeled in two separate carts; the first held clothes, the second contained shoes and handbags.

  “Stop,” I held my hands out to them, walking to the second cart and lifting the velvet red box. They were Christian Louboutin, but the box indicated that they were a one of a kind custom shoe; like two I’d been able to get previously, yet here there were seven boxes. Lifting the lid, I stared at a pair of butterfly bow-tie pumps. I was tempted to try them on but didn’t want to look too excited, especially knowing that Gabriel enjoyed pissing me off. Closing the lid, I put the box back down and stepped back, nodding for the workers to keep going.

  “You like?” Gabriel asked from behind me.

  “They look a little small for you,” I said.

  I heard him snicker, “You’re probably right, you’re free to have them instead.”

  Crossing my arms, I watched the worker bees hurry about the suite. “I’m rich enough to buy all of this and more.”

  He leaned over, his lips once again to my ear, making me feel warm with each word he spoke, “But isn’t it nice when someone else buys it for you?”

  “No,” I said, turning to face him. “It makes me wonder what that someone is up to. I’m here, Gabriel. I’m waiting. Why don’t we lay our cards on the table before exchanging gifts?”

  “Exchanging?” He smiled. “What did you bring for me?”

  “Being on my good side. Having me on your side is gift, didn’t you know?”

  His gray eyes did it again, mentally stripping me naked as they looked over my body. “I’m well aware.”

  “Then why did you ask?” I didn’t wait for his answer, walking to the set table. One of the workers pulled out my chair for me while another pulled out Gabriel’s who waited for me to sit before sitting himself. Putting the napkin my lap, I lifted my glass and waited. One of the workers carefully poured the red wine then looked to Gabriel as he buttoned up the rest of his shirt before filling his glass.

  We both waited, quietly drinking as we watched each other.

  “Will that be everything?” one of the workers asked.

  “Yes,” Gabriel replied but didn’t look away from me, his chest rising and falling slowly. “You all may go.”

  It felt like it took forever for them all to leave when in reality it was only seconds. The air was so heavy, like the moment right before a rainstorm. Reaching over, he lifted the tray cover and in fluent French said, “le Homard bleu aux baies de myrte et gingembre.”

  “Blue lobster and myrtle berries?”

  “Blue Lobster with myrtle and ginger berries,” he nodded at the beautiful dish before us and refilled my wine glass for me. “You don’t understand French?”

  “Why would I understand French? I’m Italian and Irish.” I reminded him, picking up my fork. But it was me who needed a reminder; I was here to question him, not the other way around. Putting my fork back down, I gave him my full attention. “And you knew that. You know a lot about me already yet I don’t know anything about you. You want it that way. If you don’t answer my questions, I will walk out and when I walk out, no one can make me come back. Not my grandmother, not even my mother, if she were alive.”

  “Ask then, Dona,” he said before taking a bite of his
food and lifting his wine glass.

  “What is your name?”

  “Gabriel.”

  “Last name?”

  “I do not have one,” he stated. I could feel myself getting annoyed when he said, “That is the truth.”

  I didn’t want to get caught up on the smaller question now. Fine. “What mafia are you linked to?”

  “None.”

  I knew it! He was just playing around. “Gabriel, I’m going to need more details from you.”

  “Ask more detailed questions.”

  Oh, this little— “Fine.” I sat up. “Did you choose the Wilson Bank for a reason or did you choose it because you knew a robbery was already being planned there? If it was for a particular reason, what is it? Is it connected to my family? How did you manage to pull it off? Is that detailed enough for you?”

  He swallowed the food in his mouth, putting his glass down. “I did choose the Wilson Bank for a reason, and it wasn’t because I knew a robbery was being planned there.” He decided at that point to drink, relaxing.

  “Go on.”

  “It’s odd…the bossier you are, the more turned on I get,” he whispered, placing his hand on his lips. “I’m torn between putting you in your place and seeing just how much more I can push you.”

  “You push, I shoot. The dead don’t get turned on so it’s your choice,” I replied, lifting my glass to him.

  The asshole lifted his glass as well, tapping it against mine. “The dead also can’t speak, meaning you’d never get answers you want.”

  Lifting the glass to my lips, I drank all of it, taking a deep breath afterward before setting it back on the table. I lifted the napkin from my thighs before standing. “Thank you for the wine Gabriel, it’s been interesting.”

  Just as I moved, he spoke again.

  “The reason I chose the Wilson Bank is because after your Aunt Coraline gave away control of the bank to her uncle, he and his partners made it corrupt. Much of the money coming in was from corrupted officials overseas. They now take the assets of various ingrates and spread them throughout the United States and off-shore accounts. Some of those people have been targeting me for a very long time. I didn’t have the power to stop them before, now I do.”