Unprepared Daddy

by Bella Winters

  “It did,” I said after a long pause. “He went and slept in the other room. And then, this morning, he had left for work by the time I woke up.”

  “I see,” Al said. “How was the rest of your relationship?”

  “What do you mean, exactly?”

  “Well, did you feel happy with Michael? Was he happy with you?”

  “I thought we were happy,” I said slowly. “I mean, our relationship was kind of…well, different,” I said. I blushed again.

  “How so?”

  I shrugged.

  “You can tell me, Beth,” Al said, like he was one of my best friends.

  I sighed. “Like, it wasn’t very passionate,” I said.

  “Did you ever think about leaving Michael?”

  I looked down at my hands. The tasteful diamond on my left finger glittered cheaply in the fluorescent light of the room.

  “No,” I said honestly. “Sometimes I wished that he would be more affectionate with me. But overall, I was grateful to him. He cared for me and provided for me. He wasn’t the kind of guy to come home with flowers and candy, but that didn’t really matter. I appreciated that he never put on airs to impress me.”

  “And was Michael faithful to you?”

  I cringed. “Most of the time,” I said slowly. “Why?”

  “How did that make you feel?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “What is this?” I demanded. “Why are you trying to make me look bad here?”

  “Beth, I’m not,” Al said. “I’m just trying to get all the details I can.”

  I sighed. “No, he slept with other women sometimes,” I said. “But it was my job not to mind. Michael told me he wanted a wife, and I don’t even know how many times he cheated. But he saw it as a man’s right – he told me that he had freedom, since he provided for me. I never cheated on him, though. I never even though about it.”

  Al nodded. “I know this has been a long ordeal for you,” he said. He flipped his notebook closed. “You can go, Beth. I’m sorry.”

  I shuddered. “Do you…do you have any idea who might be behind this?”

  Al narrowed his eyes. “We do,” he said. “But nothing is certain yet.”

  “Can you tell me?” I asked quietly. “Please, I really need to know. I won’t be able to sleep unless I find out who killed my fiancé.”

  “Nothing is certain yet,” Al repeated. “But I think Michael’s death had something to do with the Amoruso crime family.”

  My stomach flipped and twisted and for a moment, I thought I was going to throw up. I leaned over and put my face between my knees, retching and coughing.

  “What?” I asked in a strained whisper. “The people who own those restaurants?”

  Al nodded. “They’re not just in the restaurant business,” he said gently. “They’re drug traffickers, and they have known ties with Michael’s father’s business.”

  My jaw dropped. “Douglas?”

  Al nodded. “Yes,” he said. He checked his watch. “Beth, I need to be getting on to my next interview,” he said. “Is there anything else?”

  My head was spinning and filled with questions, but I couldn’t find the words to articulate any of them. How the hell did they already know that Michael had been killed by the mafia?

  And why would the mafia want to hurt Michael?

  “No,” I said softly. “That’s all.”

  --

  Heather took me home and put me in bed, but I couldn’t sleep. I was lying there under the covers, crying and wishing that I’d realize this had all been a bad dream. It seemed impossible to me that my whole life had changed and flipped upside down in such a short amount of time. I felt dizzy and shaky and scared.

  Suddenly, Al’s words came rushing back to me. The Amoruso crime family, he’d said. And Douglas has ties with them.

  Shaking nervously, I crawled out of bed and changed into a clean pair of jeans and a shirt. It was late at night – past midnight – but I knew I wouldn’t be able to relax until I’d talked with Douglas. I grabbed my keys and drove across town, to the palatial mansion where Douglas lived with his second wife, Gabrielle.

  The house was dark. I parked in the circular driveway and walked quickly up to the door, the soles of my sneakers slapping against the pavement like the staccato rhythm of my heart. I was nervous as I knocked at the door – what would happen? What would Douglas tell me? Did he know something I didn’t?

  Gabrielle answered the door in a lacy pink kimono. She looked tired, but beautiful as always – she was a retired model, in her early thirties. Her blonde hair was in a messy bun and even though her face was free of makeup, she was more stunning than I’d ever be.

  “Hello, Beth,” she said. She sounded tired, and almost nervous. “Are you here to see Douglas?”

  I nodded numbly. “If that’s okay,” I said quietly. “I know it’s late.”

  “We thought you would come earlier,” she said, but she didn’t smile. “Come with me.”

  Normally, being in Douglas’s house filled me with a sense of awe. It was opulent and luxe and everything that I’d dreamed about – the floors alternated between marble and carpeting so plush I sank in to my ankles. The walls were painted ivory, with gold trim, and the ceiling were so high that I felt about three feet tall.

  Gabrielle led me silently down a long hall, then into the open kitchen. Two copper ranges were fixed against the walls and a huge rack with copper pots and pans was hung overhead. The floor was checkerboard marble in pink and liver-colored squares, and something delicious was baking in the oven.

  Douglas was sitting at the island in his bathrobe. His eyes were bloodshot and there was layer of grey scruff on his jaw and chin. It was hard not to gasp – normally, Douglas looked buttoned up and fit to lead a board meeting. Seeing him like this made the situation seem worse than ever.

  It was starting to sink in that Michael was really and truly dead.

  “Beth,” Douglas said. His voice was wooden and hollow. “I’m surprised it took you this long to come over.”

  I frowned. “What?”

  “I thought you would have been here immediately,” Douglas replied. He didn’t glance up from the paper in his hands. “What delayed you?”

  I blushed. “I…I had to go to the police station,” I said. “A detective interviewed me about Michael.”

  “And I hope you didn’t say anything that would cause him embarrassment,” Douglas said sharply. “I hope you didn’t say anything that would cause all of us embarrassment.”

  I looked at Gabrielle as a feeling of confusion spread through my limbs. Why was Douglas acting like this? Was it out of grief? He’d never treated me so coldly before in my life.

  Douglas hadn’t always liked me, but after a few years, he’d come around. He didn’t like that I’d grown up middle class, and that I’d gone to state university for my undergrad degree. But about two years into our relationship, Michael had gotten sick. I’d dropped everything to care for him over the course of a weekend, and since then, Douglas had been much kinder to me.

  Douglas had always been rich – the Bennetts were one of the wealthiest families in New York. But from what Michael had told me, Douglas had taken Magnate Shipping and transformed it into a truly modern company that was responsible for changing the industry into something more powerful than ever. Michael had respected his father more than anyone else on earth, and I’d had to agree that Douglas was a powerful man worthy of such respect. He’d thrown himself into his work – Michael and Douglas hadn’t had much of a relationship until Michael was grown and in his twenties. Michael’s mother, Brenna, had died when he’d been away at boarding school as a teen. I’d been shocked to learn that Douglas hadn’t even called Michael with the news for over a week, until after the funeral.

  “He’s not cold,” Michael had said to me once. “He’s just a different kind of man. Things that matter to the rest of us don’t matter as much to him.”

  I’d forgotten that comment, but now, standin
g in Douglas’s opulent kitchen, it came rushing back.

  Gabrielle came forward and touched my arm. “Would you like some café au lait?” Her voice was lightly accented from growing up in Russia. “I just had the maid make some.”

  “No, thank you,” I said, even though my mouth felt like sandpaper and tasted even worse. “I’m fine. Thank you for offering.”

  “Sit down, Beth,” Douglas said sharply.

  “Okay.” My heart was thudding anxiously as I made my way across the kitchen and climbed onto a stool facing Douglas. Up close, he looked even worse. His eyes were so red that he looked demonic, and there were lines in his cheeks and jaw that hadn’t been there last month. The last time I’d seen him was a few weeks ago – Michael and I had attended a charity event together, and Douglas had been in high spirits.

  “I need you to understand something,” Douglas said calmly. “And I don’t want to hear any pushback.”

  I nodded.

  “I can’t continue to support you,” Douglas said. “You and Michael weren’t married at the time of his death, and since you were only his fiancée, that doesn’t entitle you to benefits from Magnate Shipping.”

  My jaw dropped. “I never expected you to—“

  “Please, let me continue,” Douglas said. “I want you to understand this now so there isn’t any confusion later. I don’t need you showing up six months later and demanding I foot the bill for your lifestyle.”

  I stared at him in shock. “My lifestyle? What does that even mean?”

  Douglas glared at me. “You thought it was perfectly fine to relax at home all day while my son worked long hours to support you. I’m telling you – that won’t continue, Beth. You’ll need to find your own means.”

  “I only did that because he didn’t want me working!” I protested hotly. “This isn’t fair!”

  “Perhaps Michael would still be alive if he wasn’t worn down to the bone,” Douglas said. He glared at me and I sensed real anger flowing from his soul. “But no, instead, you had to make sure that he worked constantly to care for you.”

  Tears filled my eyes and I couldn’t keep them from spilling down my cheeks as I sniffled pathetically.

  “This isn’t fair,” I cried loudly. “I didn’t do anything to deserve this!”

  “That isn’t true,” Douglas said coldly.

  “You can’t blame me for this,” I said softly. “I…I had nothing to do with it! The detective even told me that he knew that! They think it had something to do with the Amoruso crime family…you know, the same family that you have ties to!” I knew I was treading on dangerous ground, but now that I’d started, I couldn’t stop. The words were flowing like vomit, and I couldn’t make myself gobble them back up.

  “I can blame whomever I like,” Douglas said coldly.

  I slipped off the stool and aimed a shaking finger at the man who would have been my father-in-law.

  “I didn’t kill Michael,” I hissed. “And I won’t rest until I find out who did, Douglas.”

  Douglas’s stare was blank. “Please leave,” he said coldly. “I don’t wish to look at you any longer.”

  As I stomped out of the kitchen and down the beautiful marble hall, I hardened my heart. I vowed to find Michael’s killer.

  Even if it killed me.

  Chapter Seven

  Alessio

  After I rushed Silvio to the hospital, I couldn’t relax. So I did what I normally do when I need to relax – I took a long walk through the streets of New York, marveling at my empire.

  The shipping docks were quiet. The only sounds I could hear were the cries of the birds circling above in the tepid air, and the giant cargo ships were abandoned. It almost seemed post apocalyptic, and a small smile played across my lips as I realized that now, I would hold more power than ever.

  Douglas Bennett would soon find out that my crime family was responsible for the death of his son, and everything I’d ever wanted would soon be in my hands. My smile grew into a grin as I sauntered along the pier, staring at the vast seas.

  This will all be mine, I thought, spreading my hands through the air and staring triumphantly around me. I’ve done it. This is a move for the ages, and my legacy will carry me forever.

  It was so satisfying to think of the future – me, old, surrounded by children and grandchildren who would think of me as the Great Alessio. Alessio, the man who made the wealthiest man in New York bow down and kiss his shoes.

  I’d truly done it. I wasn’t even forty years old, and I’d already made the move that would guarantee my future and my fortune. Douglas wouldn’t dare try to fuck with me ever again. I smirked. He still has a wife, I thought. I can always get to her if he starts acting up again. I’ll leave that man miserable and broken and alone. That’s what he gets for trying to screw me out of my fair share.

  The sound of shouting voices was carried by the wind, over my ears. I frowned, turning around and looking for the cause of the commotion. I couldn’t see anything, but I knew that water carried sound better than anything else around. I reached into my pocket and wrapped my fingers around my gun. It wasn’t the same gun I’d used to kill Michael – that gun had immediately gone straight into the water. Still, I always made sure to have a spare…or three. Being the head of the Amoruso crime family made me a hot target, and I always had to be prepared and ready to defend myself at the slightest nod.

  As I walked away from the pier, I saw a group of men fighting below. I grinned – sometimes, there was nothing like watching a good group of men beat the shit out of each other. As I got closer, I realized that one of the men was familiar – he was a cousin of Silvio’s, a kid, barely out of high school.

  While I knew I shouldn’t get involved, it was hard to resist. I pulled out my gun and aimed it at the man attacking Silvio’s cousin.

  “Hey!” I yelled. “Fuckin’ stop it! Leave that kid alone!”

  His attackers, a group of two thugs, looked up and smirked when they saw me. Silvio’s cousin crumpled to the ground and wrapped his skinny arms around his knees, bringing them to his chest and whimpering. His face was swollen and distorted – there was a stream of blood gushing from his temple down his forehead, and his eyes were blacked so badly that he could barely open them.

  “Pick on someone else,” I yelled. “And not me – I’m fuckin’ armed. Don’t come close.”

  The men grinned unpleasantly. They began to advance on me and I shook my head, cocking the gun and aiming it at chest level.

  “I told you,” I called out. “Don’t fuckin’ come near me! I’m fully prepared to defend myself, you fuckin’ thugs!”

  As they got closer, I realized I was going to have to do something drastic. I aimed the gun at the ground and fired. One of the men cried out and leapt into the air before turning heel and running. Oddly, the other man kept advancing on me, grinning.

  “Hey, fucko,” I called. “Fuckin’ stop it! Get the hell away from here! Don’t you fuckin’ recognize me?”

  The man grinned as he got closer. “Oh, I do,” he said casually. He pulled out a badge. “I’m Officer Banks, undercover.”

  Shit.

  “Nice talking to you,” I called, putting the safety on and slipping the gun in my pocket. But that fucker, Banks, kept walking towards me holding his badge and his gun.

  “Don’t think you’re getting away with this,” Banks sneered. He smirked as he pulled his cuffs out of his pocket and waved them in the air. “I’m fuckin’ takin’ you downtown.”

  As Banks grabbed my hands and twisted them together behind my back, I cried out.

  “Don’t you know who I am?” I screamed. “I’m above this! You can’t fuckin’ arrest me! I haven’t done anything!”

  Banks sneered as he reached into my pocket and pulled out my gun.

  “Funny,” he said sarcastically. “Looks like the serial number’s been carved right off this. Isn’t that interesting?”

  “I don’t know where that came from!” I said hotly. “Leave me
the fuck alone!”

  Banks sneered in disgust. He reached into my other pocket and pulled out the small baggie of cocaine I’d been planning on celebrating with later that night.

  “What’s this? Drugs?” Banks got in my face. “Sometimes, it’s funny how powerless we all are,” he said. “I’m taking you downtown.”

  I screamed until I was blue in the face, but that didn’t stop that asshole Banks from grabbing me and wrestling me into the backseat of his cruiser like I was some common thug.