Ruthless Empire: A Dark Mafia Collection

by Seth Eden

  For almost a year, we only had contact with Marco through our family attorney, eventually our brother-in-law through Willow, Ricky. It wasn’t until Alessandro snapped and went rogue on Luca that we unearthed an operation of the Binachis keeping tabs on Marco. Even though Alessandro was way out of bounds, we were able to take out one of the Binachi’s head henchmen, and with Donovan, Dario and Dante convicted, the need for Marco to stay under wraps dissolved.

  He and Alessandro lived in California with their wives and children. They were supposed to be living carefree, domestic lives, but things were not panning out exactly as we had hoped.

  “I’m doing the best I can, Gabe, but I have a family, too, you know?” Marco’s rough, exhausted voice pierced my thoughts. “This is bad timing all around.”

  I hunched my brow. “What does that mean?” Before Marco could answer the question, I got another incoming call from none other than Alessandro himself. “Oh, this is actually Sandro. Hang on. I’ll add him to the call.”

  I clicked over to my other line, hoping that I could mask my concern for him. “Sandro.”

  “Hey, Gabe.” His voice sounded pretty normal. Nothing out of sorts. “How have you been, man? It’s gotta be stressful just being with Luca.”

  “It’s not too bad. I’m actually on with Marco, too. I’m gonna join the calls.” I clicked a few buttons to conference Marco and Alessandro in together. “Hello?”

  “I’m here,” Alessandro replied.

  “Hey, Sandro,” Marco greeted.

  Alessandro chuckled. “What’s up, brother?”

  “This is pretty cool. I don’t think I’ve ever done a three-way call before. Modern technology, eh?” Marco said.

  Alessandro’s chuckle developed into a full laugh. “People have been doing this since calls required operators, Marco.”

  “Oh.” Marco snickered. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. It’s not new.” Alessandro sighed. “Anyway, I called to check on you, Gabe, not explain seventies tech to Marco. How’s it going?”

  “Not bad.”

  Alessandro groaned. “I can tell you’re lying, and I’m not even looking at you.”

  I thought of Luca and Molly and that final, unfrayed strand. “You know. Luca’s beyond stressed. This is all falling down on him. I’m trying to do my part, but you know me.”

  “That’s no excuse,” Marco hissed. “You’re a Varasso. You seriously gonna let Luca take all this shit on himself because you’re a little soft?”

  That was closer to the Marco I was used to. I looked away from the car speakers nervously as if Marco was peering at me through them. “I’m not…I’m trying.”

  “Lay off him, Marco. What right do we have to criticize him when we packed up our shit and left?” Alessandro jumped to my defense, just like always.

  “Hey, fuck you. I had to go. I didn’t have a choice.”

  “Bullshit. You rolled the dice with Kelly. I’m not saying it was a bad gamble to make. I’m just saying there was a point where you knew what you were into, and you kept on anyway.” He grumbled. “Besides. You’re not in witness protection anymore. If it was so against your will, why don’t you go back home and help out?”

  “I could say the same about you,” Marco spat back. “You’re not even in WPP. You’re just shacked up.”

  I didn’t want them to be arguing, especially not in a way that made Alessandro feel like he’d made the wrong choice by leaving the life. “Guys.”

  “Willow won’t go near this shit, and you know that. The only reason we’re together right now is because I left.”

  “Yeah, join the fucking club. You think Kelly was just gung-ho to join the mob lifestyle? She’s not Molly.”

  “I think Luca and Molly might split up.” The words rushed out like liquid from an overflowing glass. They weren’t necessarily true, and they weren’t necessarily false, but it did bring silence between Alessandro and Marco.

  “What makes you think that?” Marco asked.

  “All the extra weight. I mean, Marco, you weren’t there, but Sandro, you saw what happened when Luca flipped out about Willow last year. It’s that, times ten. Most of the time, they’re good, but when they aren’t…I just feel like they’re gonna break soon.” I was already spinning a web that I wasn’t sure how to not get myself stuck in to later be devoured. “I thought it’d be nice if they could take a family vacation or something. Just get away from all this shit.”

  “That’s brilliant, Gabe!” There was electric excitement to Alessandro’s voice that I didn’t like. “I can come home for a bit. Not permanently, but for a couple weeks. I can help you keep things afloat while Luca’s gone.”

  “Um.” I was wavering. Alessandro was already so beyond himself. “I don’t know if that’s a great idea.”

  Alessandro laughed again, but that time it wasn’t light or friendly. It was dark and slightly sadistic. “You don’t think you can run shit, do you?”

  “Sandro,” Marco warned. It was weird for him to be the one looking out for me.

  “No, come on. Gabe knows that I think highly of him. This just isn’t his world. You’re not going back to do it, Marco. That leaves me.”

  The silence between us was thick, and though I couldn’t see him, I knew Marco’s gears were turning in search of a rebuttal as well. That neither he nor I said anything was indicative of the fact that neither of us had found one.

  “Um, it might not be so bad, Sandro. I’ll keep you posted on what I’m thinking, okay?” I had to change directions as quickly and as smoothly as possible.

  Luca and Molly needed something to keep their relationship intact, but I couldn’t drag Alessandro back into the thick of the business, either. I’d have to figure something out, but I needed more time to do it than the ten minutes I had left before my yoga session.

  “Look, I gotta go. I got yoga.” A beat of silence preceded both Alessandro and Marco erupting with laughter. I chuckled along, myself. “Shut up.”

  “You got yoga?” Alessandro asked. “Like breathing and down…facing…dog shit?”

  Marco’s laughs had heightened to the point of causing him to wheeze. “How dare you not start with that.”

  I laughed. “What? My body has been all creaky and tight lately. Molly signed me up for a private yoga session.”

  Their obnoxious laughs got louder.

  “Fuck you guys, all right. At least I’m trying to be a little more relaxed.”

  “Are you wearing a suit?” Alessandro asked with a squeaky, amused tone to his voice.

  “No!” I looked down at the sweats I had on. “But it took me like two hours to find these sweatpants.”

  “Are they mine?” Marco asked. “Please take a picture.”

  “No. Fuck you.” I scoffed, but there was still an amused smile on my face. It was nice to break the tension. “I gotta go.”

  “Namaste,” Alessandro hummed, and Marco snorted.

  “Whatever. Bye.” I ended the call with both of their laughs roaring across my speaker until the line went dead.

  Chuckling as I went, I gathered my phone, wallet, and a bottle of water I’d grabbed. I climbed out of my car. I walked into the studio Molly recommended and was greeted with a friendly smile from a young-looking blonde at the receptionist's desk. She wore glasses, and her cheeks developed a little color when I walked in.

  “Hello. How can I help you?” she asked.

  I rubbed my head, suddenly wondering if I needed some sort of reservation number from Molly. “Um, I’m here for a private session.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, sir. We only take appointments on Saturdays. We have walk-ins on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, though those are group sessions. If you’d like, I can schedule a private appointment for you for next weekend?”

  I probably at least should have had Molly on the phone. “My sister-in-law called and made an appointment for me earlier. Molly Varasso.”

  Her jaw dropped a little, and her eyes widened. “Oh! Sorry, she wasn’t clear
on the phone. Yes, of course!” She motioned to a glass door to her left. “Please, head right in. The instructor will be with you soon.”

  I nodded. “Thanks.”

  I walked into the studio and was immediately smacked with the smell of lavender and vanilla. A couple of burning incense sticks seemed to be the culprit, and there were two mats rolled out, facing each other, one at the head of the studio and another more towards the middle. The wall behind the head mat was covered in pictures, articles, and awards, all surrounding a center, framed degree.

  I assumed I was meant to sit at the one in the middle, so I walked over and set the bottle down next to the mat. I still had a few minutes, so I walked over to the wall of photos and started to scan them. The first few pictures were of groups of people doing yoga, nothing too interesting, and a few articles sang the praises of the studio owner, Stacy Everett. Just as I started to wonder what she looked like, I got to a picture with a woman holding the degree that was framed on the wall.

  She had long, blond hair in perfectly flowing waves down her face and over her shoulders. Her head was encircled by a crown of cherry blossoms, and she had a bright but humble smile on her face. Her dazzling, hazel-green eyes and smooth, pastel-pink lips elevated her already picturesque face to something almost ethereal, like she wasn’t of this world. My heart started to race as I looked at her.

  Is she the owner?

  I continued to scroll down the wall of photos, seeing the magnificent woman in many of the photos, including one with her standing in front of this studio, using a giant pair of scissors to snip through a red ribbon. She was the owner.

  “Hey, Sam.” Musical tones rang from the entryway, and I looked over my shoulder.

  There she was, a milky-skinned angel from heaven.

  Was I supposed to survive an entire yoga session with her as the instructor?

  My lips lolled open. “There is no way.”

  4

  Stacy

  I hated getting to sessions so close to the time they were supposed to happen, but I was chalking it up to the fact that it was a last-minute scheduling.

  “How are you?” I addressed Sam, whose whole face was a light shade of pink. “The client isn’t upset, is she? Is she here?”

  Sam let out an awkward chuckle. “Uh. So, here’s the thing. It’s not a she. It’s a he, and he is stunning.”

  I turned my head and looked into the studio and saw a guy sitting on one of the yoga mats with his head down, flicking through his phone. I couldn’t make out much of his image the way he was situated, but I could at least verify that it wasn’t a woman.

  “Is he that good looking?” I thought back to my ex-boyfriend, Peter Clouse, who I ended up splitting with because he was pursuing his acting and modeling career. He was pretty much my benchmark for a good looking man. The typical tall, dark, and handsome type, who seemed perfect in every way but was really emotionally stunted and more concerned about his career than me.

  “Well, I guess I’ll be the judge of that.” I set my purse on the desk and smiled. “You can head out if you want.”

  Sam shook her head. “Oh, uh. No, it’s okay. I can stay.” Her eyes were already slowly gliding over to look at the client again. “You might need help.”

  “I won’t need help.” I crossed my arms. “Really. You’ve been here all day, so you can go.”

  Sam’s daydreaming expression left her face, leaving irritation in its wake. She grabbed her things and stood up, grumbling. “I’m the one who sat here all day, and now you get to stay and hang out with the beautiful guy.” She walked past me. “Must be nice!”

  “Goodbye!” I spat at her.

  Once Sam was out, I locked the door behind her. I didn’t want anyone walking in while I didn’t have my attention on the entryway, and once the private session was over, I could just let the client out. I turned off the sign saying we were open and took down the shades before finally turning and walking into the studio.

  “I apologize for being a little late.” I immediately walked over to my mat and set my workout bag down. “I came straight from my parents’ house. I hope you haven’t been waiting too long.”

  “Not at all.” His voice was husky and low and caused me to look up from my bag.

  If there had been music playing, it would have done a movie-like screech to a stop. Sam told no lies. The man looking back at me was unlike anything I’d ever seen before. He had a young-looking face, younger than I imagined he actually was. His cheekbones sat high on his face and were perfect mountains for the snow of freckles that were sprinkled across them. He looked at me through a pair of obsidian eyes that, despite their lack of color, were still vibrant and welcoming, especially with the wisps of his feathery black hair hanging down into them. I allowed my eyes to trail down his form, seeing his arms stretching the fabric of the t-shirt he was wearing to their full capacity and the very noticeable way his sweatpants poked away from his body at the crotch before closing in again on his legs. He was tall, but not obnoxiously so, and even at his height, he carried his shoulders in front of himself, keeping him hunched and a little shorter than he might be if he stood with his chin in the air.

  When his mouth curled into a quiet smile, my heart skipped a beat. He stuck out a hand. “Are you Stacy?”

  I stood up from my bag, taking his hand in mine. “Yes. I. Am. Stacy. She is me.” What the hell was wrong with me all of a sudden? I’d seen the name Molly Varasso on my appointment log, and Sam wasn’t prepared for a man, either. “You are not Molly.”

  “No,” the man chuckled, “Molly is my sister-in-law. Sorry about that. I guess she didn’t think to mention the appointment was for me. I’m Gabriel.”

  “Nice to meet you, Gabriel.”

  His cheeks got a little darker, and it was one of the cutest things I’d ever seen. I’d never seen a guy blush before. “I was going to say you can call me Gabe, but the way Gabriel sounded when you said it was so good. I’d like to stick with that.”

  It was my cheeks that I felt warming now. “Gabriel it is, then.”

  His hand flocked to the back of his head to rub with nervousness, which was flying around his aura like a swarm of bees. “I also must admit that I’ve never done yoga before, or exercise of any kind, really.”

  I ticked my head to the side. “I find that hard to believe.” Gabriel’s eyes widened, and my hands slapped against my mouth. “Oh my god, I’m so embarrassed. I did not mean to say that out loud.”

  Typically, I found flirting with men difficult, but I was suddenly challenged by keeping myself from flirting.

  Gabriel put his hands up in surrender. “Hey, I’ll take that kind of compliment from someone like you any day.”

  It was all so easy, like playing a match in a sport we were both skilled at. I’d only been in the same room with this man for less time than I’d spent in a fast-food drive-through, yet I felt like I’d developed a better rapport with him than most of the people I’d met in my life.

  “Well, should we get started?” I asked, desperate to ground myself in something that was supposed to come naturally to me.

  “Yeah. Sorry in advance for sucking.” Gabriel walked back over to the mat that Sam had no doubt laid out for him. I followed him closely, walking directly into the waft of a woodland cologne he was wearing, making me fuzzy. He stood atop the mat and turned around, jumping a bit when I was right next to him. “Oh, there you are.”

  I smiled. “Yeah. You said you never did this before, so it’s probably going to have to be guided yoga.”

  “Guided,” Gabriel repeated. “As in you will touch me.”

  “As long as that’s okay. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  Gabriel scoffed. “Yeah, no, it’s just I’m already acting like such an idiot, so fair warning, I’m probably going to stop speaking in full sentences from here on out.”

  I laughed. “You’re not as bad as you think you are.”

  Things were a bit awkward at first. Gabriel was not flexible.
More than that, my attempts to get him to do what I needed him to were made even harder by the fact that he’d committed himself to keeping his eyes on me at all times. He was often knocking himself off balance by looking to the side or backward to look at me when I needed him looking forward or down. Eventually, though, he settled into it. His body seemed to be relaxing a bit, allowing it to shift and mold, and I could feel the tightness in his back and shoulders releasing bit by bit.

  “You know, you’ve got a lot of tension all over your body. Yoga is a great way to release the tension, but you should look into getting a massage, too. And keeping up yoga if you can,” I suggested.

  “Do you offer massages, too?” Gabriel asked, and there was a playful smile on his face that made me hot.

  I’d give him a massage.

  “No. That’s not a service we offer here, but I have some affiliates I could recommend.”

  Gabriel looked disappointed. “Okay.” It was like a child pouting.

  “I can get you discounts if you want to sign up for a multi-session yoga plan,” I explained. “I swear I’m not just trying to sell you on something. I think it could really help you.”

  Gabriel groaned as I twisted his body to the side in a warrior pose. “I’d love to do that, actually, but I don’t know that my…job would allow it. It’s lucky I got these few hours as it is.”

  “What do you do?” I asked, and despite it being an innocent enough question, Gabriel’s whole body seized up under my hands, and the aura hanging about him went dark and cloudy.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Was that not an okay question?”

  He side-glanced me. “What?”

  “It’s just, you got all dark when I asked about your job. I’m sorry if that wasn’t an okay question. You don’t have to answer.”

  Gabriel shook his head. I was used to the confusion some people experienced when I was able to read their moods with signals they didn’t even realize they were giving off. “I, uh, own a business with my brother. Well, all of my brothers, but two of them recently moved to California, so I guess it’s been a little more stressful lately.”