by Alyse Zaftig
Blurb
My dad stole a fortune from his best friend, a Mafia don. Now I'm paying the price.
His former best friend offers me a choice.
A) He can kill my dad.
B) I can agree to move in with him.
To save my dad's life, I agree to give him my body.
I never agreed to give him my heart.
I think he's stealing it anyway.
Paying Off Her Dad’s Best Friend
Alyse Zaftig
Contents
1. Gun Safety
2. Driving Home
3. Tense
4. Robot
5. Driving Her
6. Mascara
7. Filet Mignon
8. Cat and String
9. First Job
10. Startled
11. Late Night
12. Unfulfilled
13. Bang
14. Fire
15. Hospital
16. Nonna’s Ring
17. Proposal
18. Running Away
19. Stealing
20. Mother’s Daughter
21. Stolen
22. Hard Choice
23. Prison Cell
24. Car Window
25. Failure
26. Motel Room
27. Rescue Mission
28. Home Again
Lucia’s Birthday Party
Chapter One
Gun Safety
Iacopo
My gun is pointed at the face of a man, until today, I loved more than my own flesh and blood. He was more than a brother to me.
Soon he will be dead. And I will be his judge, jury, and executioner.
“Please,” George says, his hands raised. “I didn’t mean to take so much.”
I take the safety off of my gun. “George, I wanted to believe that you were an honest man far longer than I should have. I didn’t want to believe the evidence, but there was just so much of it.”
“Please, I’ll do anything!” George is shaking. I can smell the scent of his fear. He’s wet his pants like a toddler failing the first day of potty training.
“You have nothing to bargain with.” I look through the sight of my gun.
“I have a family.”
I put the safety back on so that I can laugh without accidentally shooting him. Once it clicks into place, I let out a good belly laugh.
“You have a daughter, Kelly, whom you barely see and barely tolerate. You make her work, and she’s only a college student. Your wife left you for a handsomer man ten years ago. She’s a golddigger who needed more than you could provide. You don’t have a family.”
George’s forehead is covered in sweat. His hands are shaking like he has palsy. “I will give you anything you want. Just please, put the gun away.”
“Like I said, there’s nothing you can give me. I have shared everything with you since we were kids. Your parents neglected you. My mother took you in and treated you like one of her own children. And this is how we’re repaid? Years of stealing from my bank accounts? If you needed money, all you had to do was ask. But stealing is another matter. You cannot steal from the Genovese family and live. It sets a bad example.” I take the safety off. “Make your peace with God, George.”
“Please let me say goodbye to my daughter,” he begs. His hand sneaks towards his pocket.
“Move very slowly, George, or my trigger finger might slip.”
His hand moves slowly towards his pocket. He pulls out his phone. He’s touching the screen now. I can see that he’s pulling up his call history. It takes a while before he finds Kelly’s name.
“Put it on speaker.”
He swallows hard, but he does as I request.
Ring.
Ring.
“Hello? What’s up, Dad? I haven’t heard from you in a while.”
“Kelly, baby girl, I just wanted to check in with you. How’s school going?”
“Dad, your voice sounds really weird. It must be a bad connection. School’s fine. Is everything okay?”
Nothing is okay. Her father is about to die by my hand.
“Everything’s fine.”
I muffle my snort. George is a terrible liar, which makes it crazy that he got away with cooking our books for so long. Sentimentality made me forgo annual audits. Emotions are liabilities.
“You sound like you’re sick or something.”
“Yeah, maybe I should see a doctor.”
He’ll probably see a medical examiner very soon. More accurately, a medical examiner would see him.
“I just wanted to tell you that I love you, Kelly.”
“I love you, too, Dad.” There’s silence on the line. “Are you sure you’re okay? I can drive home this weekend.”
If she came home this weekend, she’d be driving home for his funeral, but she doesn’t know that. I feel bad for Kelly, his naive daughter who had nothing to do with any of this. Her father’s death would ruin her life. I am taking back all of my money with 10% interest, compounded annually. I hope that he has some kind of life insurance. Otherwise, Kelly’s going to be broke.
“Don’t worry about me,” George says. “Just study hard. Be happy. I love you. I have to go now.” His fingers are shaking when he hits the red button to end the call.
George’s life will end in a few seconds. “I’m impressed. You didn’t try to get her to call the police. You didn’t tell her that I was here.”
“What would be the point? I’m going to die anyway. I don’t want her to have a vendetta against the Genovese family. She’s not tangled up in this. My daughter is the one good thing in my life. I have stolen. I have lied. But my daughter has never and will never see any of that.”
I put the safety back on my gun. “Maybe that’s the price.”
“Excuse me?”
“A few minutes ago, you were about to die. You had nothing to offer me. Now you do. Kelly is the one good thing in your life.”
“Oh, no.” He’s shaking his head. “Not my daughter.”
I smile. “Yes. Your daughter.”
Chapter Two
Driving Home
Kelly
WEEKEND
That phone call from my dad lingered in my mind for a few days, so I decide to drive home and surprise him. He said that everything was fine, but if I learned anything from The Italian Job, I know that I need to go home.
While pulling onto the freeway, I turn on the radio. It blasts Radio Disney. It’s all Camilla’s fault. I turn it to something actually good as I speed down the freeway.
Our school is only a little more than an hour away from home. Soon, I’m pulling into the driveway. I did all my homework last night, so I can concentrate on my dad for the next two days. Well, I can do it if he’s around. My dad, even if I love him, has been mostly absent for a lot of my life. He works a lot.
His car is in the garage, but there’s another car in my driveway. Then I realize it’s Uncle Iacopo’s black Lexus. Cool. I haven’t seen that handsome devil in a while.
When I was younger, I thought that Uncle Iacopo was the prince to my princess. I thought that he was the most handsome man in the world. I used to call him Prince Iacopo, back when I thought I would grow up to be a Disney princess. He would pick me up and spin me around whenever I wanted, which I considered to be the most important criterion for marriage. I was heartbroken when he got married to Ariana, who was never very nice to me. His precious daughter Lucia is one of the most beautiful babies in the whole world, though. I was happy when they got divorced, even though I shouldn’t be glad about something that probably hurt them both and will hurt Lucia when she understands that her family is split up.
I know that my da
d will be surprised, but it’ll be good to see Uncle Iacopo. Yeah, my thoughts after I hit puberty were a little less pure, but he stayed the same. A few more gray hairs, that’s all. My dad gained weight when he got older, but Uncle Iacopo still probably has a six pack. I blush a little bit, since I shouldn’t be thinking about him that way.
I unlock our front door and call out, “Dad! Uncle Iacopo! I’m home.”
I hear the sound of glass shattering. “Dad?” I walk deeper inside of the house, towards the kitchen. Uncle Iacopo is sitting at the table, drinking a demitasse of espresso. My dad had a glass of orange juice, but now it’s shattered on the floor.
“Don’t move. I’m getting a broom.” I open our broom closet and get out a broom and a dustpan. I carefully collect glass and dump it in the trash.
When I’m done, I say, “Wow, I knew that my visit was a surprise, but I didn’t know that you’d be so startled.” I lean in to hug my dad, but he’s as pale as he gets. “Aren’t you glad to see your daughter?” Dad might be distant, but I know he loves me. Just not in the way that makes him constantly check on me. He doesn’t care about my day-to-day life very much.
“Kelly, would you like to have a seat? Maybe a shot of espresso?”
“I’ll just take some orange juice, but I can pour it for myself.” I go to the fridge, take out the carton, get two glasses, and pour orange juice into them. I give my dad one. He’s still frozen in place. There’s sweat on his forehead.
“What’s wrong, Dad?”
“Maybe I should start,” Uncle Iacopo says. “Your dad and I have been talking about your future.”
“Um, okay.” I didn’t know that he was interested in my future. I never had to endure well-meant career advice from Uncle Iacopo. Tons of people loved to tell me how to live my life, but not my favorite “uncle.”
“Your father has run into a little financial difficulty, Kelly.”
“Dad?” I turn to him. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“Just fine, pumpkin.” He forces a smile. “But I won’t be able to pay for college anymore.”
My heart sinks. I have had to work hard enough to keep myself afloat. Without anything from my dad, I’m not going to be able to go to school. I might have to take time off to save up.
“But I have a solution,” Uncle Iacopo says smoothly. “I’ve offered to help.”
“Oh, Uncle Iacopo, that’s very kind, but there’s no way that I could possibly accept.”
“I’m going to insist,” he says. His voice is hard this time. I hug myself, my arms crossed in front of me. I see his eyes settle on the cleavage created by the position. The expression on his face doesn’t belong on the face of a man that I call uncle.
“I can’t take money for nothing,” I argue. “I’ll just pick up another job.” And take a smaller course load. And take forever to finish. Simple enough.
“It’s already done. I’ve paid your tuition until you graduate. I established a trust with you as the beneficiary. The money will go directly to your school.”
“That’s very kind, but I’m still not accepting it.”
“There’s nothing to accept. The bursar is more than happy to receive any kind of money. You don’t get to give it back.”
“What do you want in exchange?” I tilt my head.
“You’re moving in with me. And I’ll decide when to let you go to school.”
I hear my dad’s swift intake of breath. His face is sorrow-twisted, as if Uncle Iacopo just said, “You’re going to die.”
“I can’t move in with you.” I laugh, shaking my head. “I live at school. And what are you talking about, you’ll decide when I go to school? I’m already enrolled for this semester.”
“You’ll live with me,” Uncle Iacopo says. “And you’ll have a driver to take you to and from school each day when I decide to let you go. Your father has been…lax about your security, but it’s important to me.”
“I don’t need a driver.”
“Then I shouldn’t mention that he’ll be your bodyguard.”
“I don’t need a bodyguard!” I snap at Uncle Iacopo. “Listen, I don’t know why my dad agreed to this, but I won’t. You can stick your bodyguard where the sun doesn’t shine.”
Instead of retaliating, Uncle Iacopo just smiles. “George? Do you have anything to say?” He takes a sip of his coffee.
I turn and look at my dad. “Dad, why would you ever agree to this?”
“Pumpkin, there’s something you don’t know.”
My dad’s face is scaring me right now. He looked like this when my mom told him ten years ago that she wasn’t going to be part of our family. She still pays child support and helps with college based on her new husband’s income, but I’ve never even met him. She threw me away with the rest of her old life. She didn’t ask for visitation. She didn’t get any.
Chapter Three
Tense
Iacopo
I can see how tense her shoulders are. The skin around her eyes is strained.
"What's wrong?"
He licks his lips, like he can't get it out. "Pumpkin, I'm in trouble."
Her eyes flick to me. I look nothing like the man who brought her sparkly pink princess tiaras every birthday when she was young. I'm not him anymore.
"Uncle Iacopo, what's going on?"
"I'm not your uncle." The absolute lack of emotion in my voice startles her. Her eyes are wide. She's hugging herself as if she's in Antarctica.
"Uncle Iacopo, you're scaring me."
George is as pale as he can get. His entire body is shaking. It feels good to see him like this. He knows that if he tries to leave and take her with him, he'll only suffer more. I'm taking the most precious part of his life.
And I will destroy him.
I'm glad now that I didn't kill him when I discovered his perfidy. It's much more satisfying to see him pay in blood, sweat, and tears.
"Pumpkin, I..."
"Your father doesn't seem to be able to spit it out, so let me make this simple for you. You have a choice between two options." "Why?"
"Because your father has done something...ill advised."
His face is the color of ash. "Oh, God." He's rocking forward in his chair. He can't stop what's about to happen.
"What did he do?"
My voice is soft as I say, "He stole from me."
Kelly knows who I am. She knows, in broad terms, what I do. She steps back as if I've slapped her.
"Dad? Is that true?"
He just nods. Stunned realization is all over her face. She looks like I just told her that black is white.
"No," she denies. "There's no way that you'd do that, Dad. You're so ethical."
"Pumpkin, I'm sorry. It's true."
The pain that I see flash across her face almost makes me relent.
Almost.
"You understand what happens next, right?" I smile.
"You're going to kill him. You're going to murder my dad. I'll call the cops," she threatens, as if I'm afraid of what the cops will or can do to me. "You can't kill him!"
"I can. Very easily. And we can wipe away every trace of the crime. I could steal you this moment and never let you speak to another person if I wanted."
George is crying. He knows what comes next.
"I'll never let you do that," she says, a hint of menace in her voice. "Well, you have a choice. You can prevent it. Or I can pick up my gun and kill your father in front of you."
"I'm going to prevent it. Obviously."
"Great. You have one hour to pack whatever you need from this house."
"What are you talking about?"
"You're coming home with me. And Kelly, I'm not your uncle anymore."
George is sobbing now, watching me rob his young and mostly innocent daughter. Oh, I know that she likes to party and have a good time. She’s probably kissed a few boys. She’s a pretty little thing.
But she's never been with a man like me.
Chapter Four
Robot
Kelly
All of my movements seem robotic. I don't know what I just agreed to. Do I have much of a choice? In a court of law, duress would negate my agreement.
But I guess that's the way that criminals do it. Some people say plata o plomo, silver or lead. He threatened me with lead. And because apparently my dad can't pay back the money, he's taking something in exchange.
Me.
I don't understand how I got here. I'm a college student. I just came home for the weekend to talk to my dad and make sure that he's okay.
Now I'm moving in with a Mafia don.
We're going to have a long talk about me going to school, because there's no way that my dad would ever condone me skipping a semester of school.
I laugh at myself, but the laughter has no humor in it. I can either drop out of school or be forced to watch my dad die at the hand of his former best friend. I imagine the blood spraying from my dad’s head onto our dining room table. I can almost smell the gun smoke rising from Uncle Iacopo’s weapon.
I nearly vomit.
When I was little, I thought my dad and Uncle Iacopo were superheroes, sort of vigilantes who fought against the system’s injustice. I'm old enough now to understand the spin that they put on everything, but there was a part of me who really believed that my dad was a superhero.
That part of me is dead. Now. Today.
