Emilia: Part 1 (Trassato Crime Family Book 3)

by Lisa Cardiff

  “How’s Alessandro?”

  Lettie leaned back in her chair as if she were contemplating solutions to solving world hunger. Alessandro was Pietro’s son. I didn’t know much about his mother. Nobody talked about her, which was understandable. Apparently, she turned up pregnant when they were both eighteen. She didn’t want anything to do with Pietro’s world or raising a kid, so she left Alessandro with Pietro and took off.

  “He’s in college. NYU or something, so I hardly see him, which is fine with me.” Her lips puckered. “He’s a spoiled prick who thinks he’s too good for everyone, and Pietro feeds into the whole delusion by pretending the world revolves around his prodigal son.”

  Lettie made no secret of the fact she didn’t like Alessandro, and he didn’t hide that the feelings were mutual. When I pried into what happened between them, she shrugged it off and called him a brat. I liked him, though. He was funny and honest, both things in short supply in my life.

  “Does Pietro still want to have more kids?”

  She forced out an exaggerated shiver punctuated with a snicker. “I’m not that stupid. I don’t want anything tying me to him for life, so I’ve taken precautions to ensure it’s impossible.”

  Tony tapped me on the shoulder. “It’s time to go, Miss Trassato. Your lesson starts in ten minutes.”

  I sighed, and Lettie smirked.

  “You better get going, Em.” She winked. “I know how much you want to be a concert pianist when you grow up.”

  Like so many things in my life, I wasn’t entirely sure playing piano was my dream and not my dad’s. I couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t dictated my choices, and for too many years I willingly went along for the ride.

  He had some delusion that he could mold me into a new and improved version of my mom, the great Ava Accorso. She was a notable Italian-born concert pianist. Prior to meeting my dad, she had performed all over the world as a soloist, recitalist, and chamber musician. She even won numerous international competitions.

  In fact, that’s how they met. She was performing at some private party where my dad was a guest. Smitten with her, he waited outside until she left and offered her a ride home. Despite the protests of her family, they dated for two short months before they were married, and I came around nine months later. The rest is history.

  “You know me so well, Lettie,” I retorted, my voice chock full of sarcasm.

  She snorted. “That I do. Have fun banging on the piano. Hopefully it will help you work out your bad mood. Oh, and let me know if anything happens with you know who.”

  I glared at her, telling her with the invisible flames shooting out of my eyes to shut the fuck up. “You’ll be the first to know if my dad agrees to let me be part of the Christmas performance,” I shot back, seamlessly blurting out a lie to cover her statement.

  I gathered my cappuccino and followed Tony out the door. I didn’t have a clue why Lettie was so up my ass about Sal. I wished she’d shut the hell up. Her loose lips were a potent reminder of all the reasons why I needed to quit confiding in her. While we were friends of sorts, Lettie liked to joke about the things I told her. She swore it kept the crappy parts of our lives bearable. I didn’t always agree, particularly when it could easily upend my plans. I couldn’t afford to take that chance or I’d find myself married off to Marcello.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  After my piano lesson, I climbed into the passenger seat of Tony’s black sedan, digging around in my purse for my phone.

  “Tony,” I said without looking up, “my dad won’t be home for dinner so I want to swing by that deli on 54th on the way home to grab something to eat. I’m starving.”

  “I’m not Tony. Sorry to disappoint.” Sal turned to face me from the driver’s seat, a huge grin splitting the lower half of his face.

  I lunged for the door handle, desperate to get out of the car. The thirty-minute drive in his company would be like a life sentence. The instant my hand closed around the handle, he pulled away from the curb and into the steady stream of traffic.

  “Pull over and let me out.”

  “No can do.”

  I sunk my fingers into the oyster-colored leather seats. “Where is Tony?”

  “Your Uncle Angelo needed him to do some stuff this afternoon.”

  “What about Gian?”

  “He’s busy too.”

  “Lucky me,” I responded, my voice utterly and hopelessly flat.

  “So what’s this place on 54th?”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll find something to eat when I get home.”

  He frowned. “Are you sure?”

  “Yep.”

  “In that case, do you mind running a quick errand with me?”

  Do I mind?

  Of course, I minded. I preferred to spend as little time as possible in his company. Being around him made me uncomfortable in my skin. He was a shameful reminder that I actually asked, no begged, him to kiss me on my birthday. Then, like the dumb little girl wholly lacking in experience with men, I concocted some freakin’ fairytale with him in a starring role as Prince Charming.

  Ugh.

  “I’m kind of tired so I’d appreciate it if you dropped me off first.”

  “Come on, Emilia.” He sighed wearily. “It won’t take long. You don’t even have to get out of the car. In fact, it’d be better if you didn’t.”

  My head snapped up, way more interested in this errand than two seconds earlier. I needed dirt on my dad’s dealings if I wanted to get away from him, and maybe Sal was handing me something on a silver platter.

  “What kind of errand?”

  A deep chuckle spilled from his lips. “Knowing your penchant for spying, I should’ve started there.”

  “What’s this errand?” I asked, ignoring his statement. There was no use denying it. He caught me hiding in my dad’s study.

  “Just a little something for Pietro.”

  “Wait…” I leaned forward, bracing my hands on the dash as he whipped around a corner. “I thought you worked with my Uncle Angelo, not Pietro.”

  He parallel parked in a spot in front of an industrial building with a brick façade and four oversized gray garage doors. Black, red, and blue graffiti marred its smooth concrete sides. It looked like someone had boarded up the windows about a decade ago. The plywood was swollen and splintering around the edges. Yellowed weeds poked holes in the crumbling sidewalk. I’d bet a lot of money the building was crawling with rats and other unsavory creatures. The place should have been condemned. Just looking at it gave me the creeps.

  Sal glanced at me as he opened the front driver’s door. “What do you know about what I do?”

  “Enough.” I shrugged. “Like you said, I spend a lot of time gathering information.” I had no clue why I confessed that. I needed to practice keeping my thoughts to myself. Sal already proved he wasn’t on my side.

  “Pietro asked me to pick something up for him. I do him a favor here or there because—”

  “Because he took your family in after your dad died.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Who told you about that?”

  “Was it a secret?”

  “No.”

  “Lettie,” I answered, watching his face carefully.

  He flinched, then smoothed a hand down his face. “Yeah. She mentioned you two were friendly.”

  “Oh, so you guys kept in touch after you moved out? I didn’t realize that.”

  “What? No. Not even close.” His eyes widened. “I stopped by there a couple of days after your birthday and she mentioned your friendship in passing. That’s it.”

  What the hell? Why didn’t she bring that up at lunch earlier today?

  “Hmm,” I murmured. I wanted more details, but I’d wait until I could question her. I didn’t like the idea of him thinking I cared about anything he did after he made a joke out of me the last time I ran into him.

  He climbed out the car and peered at the vacant building while patting his right side. He
was probably double-checking he had a gun. While I’d never attended any so-called business errands with my dad, I’d overheard enough to know anyone with half a brain would never do any mafia business unarmed.

  “If I’m not back out in twenty minutes, drive yourself home.” He tossed me the car keys and tapped the roof of the car three times. “Got it?”

  “Have you lost your mind? I’m not leaving you here.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

  “Should I call someone to come get you if I take off?”

  “No,” he snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just drive away, leave Tony’s car at the end of your block, and forget you ever came here with me.”

  A current of fear shot down my spine, and if he noticed me shudder, he didn’t comment. “I got it. Run away and don’t look back.”

  “Good girl.” He flashed me a blatantly false smile and slammed the door. Thirty seconds later he rounded the side of the building with his gun drawn and pointed in front of him, the sunlight glinting off the metal.

  CHAPTER NINE

  I repeatedly peeked at the clock on the dashboard as I listened to song after song without any of the words or melodies registering in my mind. When thirty minutes passed, my chest tightened with fear and all kinds of theories I refused to verbalize.

  Get in the driver’s seat and drive home.

  I repeated this mantra five or six times, yet my body refused to comply with the order.

  “Fuck!” I shouted, the shrillness of my voice echoing in my ears like a taunt. I studied the seemingly vacant warehouse, my heart drumming and my hands trembling. “Goddammit, Sal, why didn’t you take me home first?”

  I banged my hand against the console. I needed to make a decision either way, because if something bad were going down inside, they’d find me within a matter of minutes, and I didn’t know if I could defend myself. The realization made me queasy.

  “Screw this,” I mumbled, sliding across the front seat and shifting the car into drive. He wanted me to leave and that’s precisely what I was going to do. I didn’t have to deal with this shit. It was none of my business.

  Bang!

  A gunshot pierced the silence of the otherwise deserted street. My throat closed on itself, and I blinked back the urge to cry. I fumbled with the latch on the glove box, seeking out the spare gun I knew Tony kept there. When my hand closed around the icy metal grip, I bolted out of the car, not bothering to fully shut the door behind me.

  Sprinting around the side of the building, I stuffed the gun into the waistband of my jeans. The hard slapping of my boots against the fractured sidewalk boomed in my ears. My breath came in jagged pants.

  Around the back of the building, a man’s sprawled out body partially blocked the open metal garage door. Blood dripped from the side of his neck, and his face was locked in a stomach-churning combination of surprise and fear. If I had any sense at all, I would have run when confronted with the sight in front of me.

  I stood frozen, my eyes unblinking and my body humming with adrenaline. The scene was like a giant black hole, sucking me into its vortex of terror whether I consented or not.

  “Emilia, run! Get the fuck outta here!” Sal’s thunderous shout snapped me out of my shock.

  I spun on my heel, not making it five feet before I stumbled on the uneven pavement. My knees and hands slammed against the ground, pain vibrating up my limbs. I scrambled forward, crawling like a baby, ignoring the smears of blood on the pavement documenting my pathetic escape attempt.

  Someone grabbed me by my hair and jerked me to my feet. My scalp felt like someone had set me on fire. The barrel of a gun pressed against my temple and another arm snaked around my waist.

  “Go ahead and try it, Sal,” a man behind me growled, his warm expulsion of breath searing the side of my neck.

  “Please, no,” I mumbled, my legs threatening to buckle under the weight of my mounting hysteria.

  Sal stood across from me with his gun raised, his eyes glowing with anger and the muscles in his jaw clenching. “Let her go, Frank.”

  “Fuck you!” Frank yelled, spittle spraying the side of my neck.

  “If you touch her, you’re as good as dead. That’s Dominick fucking Trassato’s only daughter. You harm a hair on her head, and he’ll hunt you down and cut you up piece by piece until you’re begging for death.”

  Frank’s arm flexed around my waist and his entire body stiffened. “I’m not worried. No one will ever find out I was here today.”

  “How do you figure?” Sal shot back, closing the distance between us. His gait was graceful and loose-limbed, suggesting he didn’t give a shit what happened to me. Maybe he didn’t. I was only some random girl he made the mistake of kissing one night. Nothing more.

  “I’ll kill you both, and Ronny’s already dead so I don’t have to worry about any witnesses. Sounds clear cut to me.”

  Sal shrugged, a smug smile sweeping across his face. “So kill her. I don’t give a fuck. She doesn’t mean a thing to me, and you’ll be playing into my hands. By the time you’ve wasted a shot on her, I’ll have planted a bullet between your eyes. You and Ronny will be dead, and I’ll look like a hero, avenging the boss’s daughter.” His voice was as fluid as molten silver without a single note of hesitation.

  I whimpered, my limbs shuddering uncontrollably. Holy shit, this was it. I was going to die, and not only would nobody care, but my dad would probably promote Sal because he wouldn’t know any better. Wait, who was I kidding? My dad would probably think good riddance. He barely tolerated me these days.

  My brain and my emotions disengaged from reality as if I were a bystander watching this from afar. There were only two options right now. I could go on blubbering and pleading for my life, or I could fight. There was a very good chance either option would end with my death, so I decided to fight. I slipped my hand into the waistband of my jeans, shifted the safety on the gun and curled my fingers around the cold, roughcast handgrip, all the while cursing myself for not checking whether the gun was loaded before I embarked on this foolish venture.

  Sal and Frank’s bickering melded together into fuzzy, indecipherable sounds. My mind zeroed in on the feel of the gun slithering against my flesh and the cold puff of air that brushed across my exposed belly.

  Rather than revealing my actions and aiming for his head or chest, I pointed the gun toward the man’s thigh and fired. My ears rang, drowning out the sound of my petrified heartbeat.

  “Fucking bitch!” he grunted out, his gun slipping from his hand and spiraling across the ground.

  He staggered, taking me with him. My body careened through the air, his arm still around my waist. The second we hit the ground, my skull whipped backward, slamming against his chin. Stars exploded behind my eyes, blurring my vision. Stunned, I froze in place with my back draped over his barrel-shaped chest. The scent of copper filled my nose, and a warm liquid seeped into the back of my jeans.

  “Ohmygod, ohmygod,” I repeated over and over despite the fact that moving my mouth made me nauseous.

  I rolled off him, pulling my knees into my chest. Sal’s black tasseled shoes clipped over the concrete, and he kicked the man’s gun away. Their bodies collided, pounding each other with bone splitting punches. Sweat and blood flew through the air like a boxing match.

  Finally the man fell to his knees and Sal grabbed him by his collar, dragging him inside the building. Within seconds, he had the man’s hands and feet bound in a maze of zip ties. I clambered to my feet and headed toward the car.

  Sal waved his gun at me. “Hey, Em, whattaya think you’re doin’? Get your ass back here.”

  “No.” I swung my head from side to side, the motion making me even dizzier than I already was. “I don’t want anything to do with this. I’m gonna get in the car and drive it home. You can find your own way outta here.”

  “Oh, yeah? You don’t want to get mixed up in the family business now that you’ve seen it firsthand? Wel
l too fucking bad. You should’ve driven away after twenty minutes like I told you. Now c’mere before someone gets a hair up their ass and comes to investigate.”

  I wobbled into the warehouse, my knees like jelly and my breathing erratic. The second I stepped foot inside, he pulled the metal garage door shut, the ungreased sound of metal scraping against metal making me jump.

  Unruffled, Sal whipped out his phone.

  “Tony,” he clipped out, “I need a spring cleaner.” He paused for a second, listening. “Not an hour from now. I need back up right fucking now. It was an ambush.” His gaze met mine and he wiped the blood from his face with the sleeve of his suit jacket. “She’s here. Yeah, I know. It’s piss poor timing, but I’ve got it under control.” He disconnected the phone and stuffed it in his pocket.

  “Who sent you here, Frank?” Sal aimed the gun at his head, enunciating each word with a stony cool that sent a chill down my spine.

  “Fuck you. I’m not a snitch.”

  Sal cocked his gun and grinned. He had an unearthly beauty to him, almost like an avenging angel, only not angelic at all.

  “What’s wrong? You don’t want a clean conscience when you meet your maker?”

  “What use do I have for a clean conscience? Just get this over with and go back to your ass kissing. God knows you’ll never be anything more than a puppet dancing to the Trassatos’ tune, exactly like your father. I can’t believe you’re willing to die for them, much less Dominick’s spoiled brat.”

  “You don’t know shit.”

  Frank chuckled. “You wanna know what’s funny?”

  “No. I want you to shut the hell up. Your thoughts don’t interest me.”

  “I gotta know though. Are you dumb as fuck or are you a brilliant schemer like they say?”

  “Since you’re the one tied up and about to die, I don’t need to answer you, do I?”