“Oh, it does matter,” Sal says. He snubs his cigarette in an ashtray shaped like a human skull. Dropping the smarmy smile, he glares at me, his face turning ice cold. “I see from the state that you’re in that your judgement is clouded. I simply can’t have that, Beast. I’ve always considered you a friend, but Anthony’s my family, my blood.” Sal seems sincere, but it could be an act.
“Olivia says her father is dead. She freaked out when I told her she was here because of him. She’s not Vince’s daughter.”
Sal turns his back to me, grabbing a bottle of champagne out of its icy bath. He studies the dripping bottle, then shakes his head, deciding instead on an expensive looking bottle of bourbon. He pours two glasses.
“Sit down. Have a drink with me. You need to take the edge off.”
There’s something Sal’s not telling me. I play along with him, sitting on the claw-footed, high backed chair and accepting his drink. Sal looks me in the eyes while we take a sip together.
“Emma Lombardi,” Sal says, finally.
I shake my head in frustration. “Who?”
“Emma Lombardi. That’s the tasty treat you have locked away in your apartment. You’ve got to tell me, how was she? Did she scream? Did she try to get away? Or no, she probably submitted, maybe even told you she wanted it. What choice did she have, locked away with the beast?”
The red lights blink in the corner of my eye. If it wasn’t for those cameras, I’d tear him apart. I chug the bourbon in one gulp, leveling my gaze at him.
“You better get to the fucking point,” I say.
Sal nods, sits up, and straightens his robe like it’s a suit. “Olivia Presley, born Emma Lombardi, daughter of Vince and Minnie Lombardi. As you and I both know, Vince isn’t a good guy. He probably didn’t make the best father and husband. Minnie disappeared when Emma was young. Just like that.” Sal snaps his fingers. “Vince has been looking for them ever since.”
I lean forward, plant my elbows on my knees, and rest my head in my heads. “Holy shit,” I mutter to myself. It makes total sense. Minnie lied to Olivia about her father, told her he died. And she changed her name from Emma to Olivia. My heart rate slows down. The adrenaline settles in my stomach. I suddenly feel very tired. “How did you find her?” I ask Sal.
Sal shrugs. “After my old man was murdered in cold blood by your pal, Snake, I went through his old files. Years ago, one of his contacts on the east coast sent him a newspaper clipping from some podunk town in New Hampshire. It was some kindergarten play. This colleague recognized Emma as Vince’s daughter. The paper listed her name as Olivia Presley. After they snatched Anthony, I searched for her online, and found out Olivia Presley is attending UCLA. Convenient, huh?”
“Why didn't you tell me this?”
“I figured you’d be a pussy about it,” Sal says, pouring himself another drink.
I swing my head down, focusing on the intricate pattern of the thick rug at my feet. It comes crashing down on me, all at once. Olivia’s not the mafia princess I thought she was. She was never spoiled, or given a sense of entitlement. She’s just a regular person, far removed from all of this mess. Like me, she was fucked over by her mafia father. My scars have healed over, but hers are fresh and raw. She’s only feeling the effect of Vince’s betrayal now. I remember what that felt like. I’ve spent a lifetime trying to forget it.
I have to get to her and tell her the truth. I stand up quickly. Sal stands up as well.
“What’s the rush?” Sal asks, menacingly.
I look him up and down, then notice the drag on the right side of his robe. It’s a gun in his shoulder holster. Sal sees me noticing and smiles. He puts a hand on my shoulder.
“Listen, I know it’s fun for you, having your little sex toy. And you’ve deluded yourself into thinking you actually care for her.” He slides his hand into the opening of his robe, resting his hand on the gun. He lowers his voice. “But you will trade her for Anthony, you understand? And if you fuck this up, I promise, I’ll kill you, if the Mariano’s don’t get to you first.” He pats my back jovially. “Now get the fuck out of here and send my girls back in. I paid for the day, and I want to get my money’s worth.”
*
I climb up the stairs and stumble onto the street in a daze. My thoughts are a jumbled mess. I’m eaten up with anxiety. I know the truth about Olivia, or Emma, whoever she is, but does that really change anything? I can’t fuck this deal up. The Mariano’s would see me as a traitor. They’d hunt me down and kill me like an animal. I’d face the same fate as my father.
But if I go through with it, I’ll be handing Olivia, and her mother, over to a madman. I don’t know the specifics of why Minnie left, but it had to have been bad for her to flee with a toddler, then keep up the lies for all these years. Vince will be pissed at them for sure. He’ll want revenge.
I sit in my car, trying to get my shit together before I start driving. I can’t go back to the apartment and face Olivia, not knowing what I know. I call Rick and ask him to bring her some food and keep a close eye on her. I need to bring this to Snake. We’ve been through some serious shit, and have always managed to figure it out together.
*
“Who is it?” Snake asks through the office door when I knock.
“It’s me,” I answer, then let myself in.
Snake sits behind his desk doing paperwork. He looks better, like he’s actually gotten a good night’s sleep. His shoulders aren’t scrunched up to his ears, and he doesn’t seem as stressed.
“What’s up, man?” Snake says, barely looking up from the stack of papers in front of him.
I close the door behind me, and sit in the chair in front of his desk.
“We have a problem,” I say.
Snake raises his eyebrow at me. “That’s not what I want to hear. Things are finally starting to straighten themselves out.” He folds his hands on the table and leans forward. “I heard from the Lombardi’s. Vince is very interested in making this trade. And Franco’s very interested in enlisting a new soldier.”
“Vince wants Olivia?”
“Yeah, he does. So much so that he’s willing to drop his insane demands.”
I lean back in the chair, rubbing my face. This is good news right? This is what I wanted. I rub my sweaty palms against my pants.
“About Olivia,” I say. “Her name’s not Olivia, it’s-“
“Emma Lombardi,” Snake says, staring at me coldly.
“You know? You knew?”
“Sure I knew,” Snake says, leaning back casually. “What kind of capo would I be if I didn’t do a little digging? Franco told me.”
I tighten my fingers around my knees. “So you know Minnie Lombardi ran from her husband. She’s been hiding all these years. If we give Olivia to him, Vince will find her mother. There’s no telling what he’ll do to her. You saw what he did to Anthony.”
Snake shrugs. “Not my problem. And you shouldn’t make it yours either.” He cocks his head, studying me. “You like her?”
“No,” I snap, defensively.
Snake turns back to his work. “I’m working out a time and place for the trade to go down.”
“Stall them, Snake,” I say, banging my fist on the desk. “We need to figure this out.”
Snake’s eyes go dark. “You know, I never asked how you found Emma.”
I relax my shoulders. “Are you asking now?”
“I don’t need to,” Snake hisses. “But don’t worry, I haven’t told Franco that you got the information from Sal. If the boss knew you saw Sal and didn’t turn him in…” Snake’s voice drops off as he looks to the side and whistles.
“I’m not made. I have no obligation to follow Franco’s orders.”
Snake smiles devilishly. “You really think Franco will see it that way?”
No, I don’t. One whiff of disloyalty, and Franco will have me put down. Snake waves his hand at me.
“Now get out of here. I have a shit ton of work to do,” Snake says, t
hen gives me a look of warning. “I’ll be by to check on Emma soon.”
Chapter Seventeen
Olivia
I have to get out of here. I will get out of here.
I make this promise to myself as I pace the small room.
He’s got the wrong person. He made a mistake. I’m not meant to be here.
I’ve had enough.
I plop on the bed, curling my fists. Anger rises up in my stomach. I didn’t bust my ass to get to where I am today, only to sit here, trapped. The world needs me, it needs my voice to be added to the chorus of scholars, all working together to unravel the mystery of humanity. If I didn’t think I was needed, that the conversation wouldn’t be the same without me, I never would’ve started the PhD program.
And I’m going to finish that program, goddammit. I’m going to be Dr. Olivia Presley, anthropologist. I’m going to devote my life to research, spend my days in the dusty halls of academia. I’m not to be locked away and kept from my destiny.
I sigh as a glittering sensation runs up my spine. There it is, my self-confidence, the only thing that sustained me through my troubled childhood, while I struggled to find my footing as a young adult, while I stayed resistant to the conspiracy theories Mom would spin, holding tight to my sanity.
My anger is quickly quelled by despair. If only I was bigger, stronger, and stood a chance against Bruno. If only I wasn’t hopelessly locked away with enemies on every level of this building. I’d seen an enemy earlier today, Rick, the sandwich guy. He brought my lunch. He was friendly, pretending that he hadn’t betrayed me when I tried to escape. I was friendly back. There’s no use in pleading my case to him. He probably only does what Bruno says. So, I played along, courteously thanking him for the lunch, and telling him nothing of Bruno’s massive mistake. The meatball sub he brought was quite delicious, but I could only manage to eat half of it. When Rick left, I put on some of the clothes Bruno bought me, jeans and a simple purple T-shirt. It made me feel more like myself, which is what I needed.
I need to talk to Bruno. We need to have a rational discussion. He has to understand where I’m coming from. We fucked, for Christ sakes, and from my point of view at least, it was more than just sex. I felt it. He felt it. He talked about us finding each other after all of this.
So, where is he? I haven’t seen him all day. Worry gnaws at my head. What if he’s not coming back? What if he enlists Rick to take care of me, or worse, someone else, like his friend, Snake? I shudder at the thought. I get the impression that Snake won’t be as sympathetic as Bruno.
Bruno.
When I think of him, my will all but dissolves. He excites me. He makes my stomach flutter. I haven’t had a crush on someone since grade school. I’d forgotten how consuming it is, how it effects everything about your day and mood. That person is all you can think about. As far as I’m concerned, Bruno is the only man on the planet. Before I met him, I didn’t even want a man. I want to get out of here, but I don’t want to be without him.
Tears roll down my cheeks. What the fuck is wrong with me? I’ve been too docile, too subservient. I’ve let my brain go to mush. It had been easy, and felt good, to let someone take care of me for a change. And being at the total mercy of a strong, brutal man had given me a lifetime’s worth of excitement. My stomach tightens with lust just thinking about it.
You’ve gone crazy here, I think, tapping my forehead. It must run in the family.
I have to get it together. I can’t keep swinging violently and irrationally from one emotion to the next. I’m not meant to be here, I can’t forget that. I’m not the daughter of a notorious mobster. The idea is laughable. I didn’t think the mafia existed outside of film and TV. Those outlaw gangs ended with prohibition, didn’t they?
I don’t know how long I spend losing my mind in that tiny room. It must be hours. The sunlight coming through the cracks in the door is gone when Bruno returns.
When I hear the locks click, and the front door open, I dry my tears.
Okay, just talk to him, I think, giving myself a pep talk. He’s not a monster. You know that.
I hear him walk down the hallway, slowly, like he doesn’t want me to hear. He walks right past my room. Sorry, Bruno, but the wail of bending floorboards gives you away every time. I rush to the door and put my mouth against it.
“Bruno,” I say as sweetly as I can muster. “Bruno. Please talk to me. I’m so confused. Can we just talk? Please?”
I listen. There’s no answer, but I think I might hear him breathing. I call his name again and again. There’s still no answer. I get frustrated with his silence, and bang my palms against the door.
“Bruno!” I yell desperately, my calm rationality dissolving at my feet. The feeling I’ve avoided this whole time, the feeling of being trapped, crashes over me all at once. I want to burst out of my skin. “Let me the fuck out of here!” I open my mouth wide, screaming my head off. My hands ache from all the banging, but I can’t stop. I won’t stop until he lets me out.
I hear his deliberate footsteps stop in front of my door, then the locks. One, two, three. My breath catches in my throat as I take a step back. Bruno fills the doorway with his broad form. I try to read his expression, but I can’t get a sense of what he’s thinking.
“I need to get out of here,” I say, my voice shaking.
Instead of stepping aside and letting me leave, Bruno closes the door behind him.
“Olivia, listen to me,” he says.
No, no, no. He’s going to tell me I can’t leave.
Bruno walks further into the room. “Sit down, Olivia.”
“You’ve got the wrong person,” I say. “You have to let me out of here.”
“It’s not that simple.”
He reaches for me, but I jerk away. Anger flames up my throat.
“Not that simple?” I ask. “It is that simple, Bruno. You’ve derailed my entire life. You held me against my will. Let. Me. Fucking. Go.”
Bruno looks at his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. He’s not going to do it. He’s not going to let me leave.
I lose it. Whatever it is I had, I completely lose it. I know I don’t stand a chance against him, but I don’t care. I rush him, flailing my fists. I go crazy, hitting, scratching, punching, biting- whatever I can manage to do. I’m a tornado of madness. I can’t stop myself.
Bruno is taken off guard, allowing me to get a few good punches in. But once he snaps back to reality, it’s over. He grabs both of my wrists, holding them tightly. He lowers his angry red face to mine.
“Do you remember what I told you when you first got here?” he growls. “Do as I say, and you won’t get hurt.”
I struggle to get away from him, but it’s no use. He’s too strong. Finally, I give up. I stare at him, panting to catch my breath.
“What are you going to do? Huh?” I say, teasing him. “You’re going to kill me.” I pull my arm in, bringing his hand to my neck. “Snap my neck?”
Bruno grits his teeth. “Stop it, Olivia.”
“I’m defying you, Bruno. You better do something now.”
Bruno’s eyes burn into mine. I stare back at him, taunting him, daring him to try something. He huffs air out of his nostrils, then wraps his hand around my neck, and pushes me against the wall. He’s not squeezing, I can still breathe, but I can’t get free. Bruno puts his face close to mine.
“I don’t have the wrong person,” he says. “Your father’s not dead. He’s a fucking criminal scumbag.”
I widen my eyes in disbelief. I simply can’t fathom his unwillingness to acknowledge reality. “You made a mistake, Bruno,” I say, spacing the words out in a condescending way. “Admit it. You took the wrong girl, and now you don’t know what to do. You think I’m mafia royalty? You have no clue who I am, what I’ve been through.”
Bruno takes his hand away from my neck and strokes my hair. His eyes soften. His muscles relax. My chest swells with hope. He’s about to admit his error. He’s going to let me go.
<
br /> He presses his forehead against mine, making me swoon. Maybe there will be a future for us after this. I can forgive his mistake, no matter how horrid it was to keep me locked here, if he makes it right by letting me go. Now.
“Maybe I do know what you’ve been through,” Bruno says, softly. “I know what you’re going through now.”
What the fuck is he talking about? He’s trying to duck away from the conversation. My stomach tightens in disgust. I pull my head from him, then spit in his eyes.
“You don’t know shit,” I say in a cutting voice.
Bruno’s eyes land on my mine, and I know in an instant that I’ve made a mistake. The cold, brutal man, my captor, has returned. He presses his lips together, breathing heavily through his nostrils. His face turns red, and veins protrude in his temples. Placing both hands against my shoulders, he pins me hard against the wall.
“Don’t fucking test me,” he warns.
My breath catches in my chest. I should be terrified, but I’m not. I want him. I want his rage. I want him to dominate me. I want, just for a few moments, to be at his total mercy. The roaring of carnal desire through my bloodstream silences my rational mind.
“What’s stopping you?” I say, playing with him, riling him up on purpose. “I’m your captive, right? Your own private sex slave?”
The fire in Bruno’s eyes shifts from anger to desire. His fingers dig into my shoulders. He juts his face into mine.
“Shut up, Olivia,” Bruno says. “You’re going to push me too far.”
I clench my thighs together, squirming against the wall, hot and wet with desire. I have lost my mind here. Only a few minutes earlier, I wanted to kill this man. Now I want him to throw me back on the bed. What’s happened to me? What’s Bruno done to me? How has he infected my mind?
I raise my chin to the ceiling, showing him my neck. “Have a taste,” I tease. “I’m yours, remember? I’m an object to use for your pleasure.”
The muscles in Bruno’s neck strain has he tries to hold himself back. Eventually, he gives in to temptation. He leans into my neck, tasting me. I sigh as the stubble on his face tickles against my skin. If I can’t have freedom, I can have pleasure, I think, idly.
Beware the Beast (Mafia Soldiers Book 2) Page 10
