by Cora Reilly
“They can live a lie, or they will have to live with the consequences.”
“You would kill someone for who they love.”
“Society may have come a long way but the mafia is built on traditions, Valentina. The moment I declared I’d accept Made Men to be gay, all hell would break loose in the Outfit. That would be one change I wouldn’t be able to push through. I wouldn’t kill someone for confiding in me, as long as they kept it a secret. I don’t doubt that there are soldiers in the Outfit who are attracted to men but who’ve learned to restrain themselves. They are probably married and live a lie, but as long as they do, they are safe.”
We were still sitting close together, actually talking in bright daylight. I reached for Dante’s chest, lightly brushing my fingertips over a long scar there. Dante gripped my wrist, gently this time and pulled my hand away. He slid his legs out of bed and stood. I watched as he headed for the bathroom, completely naked, and yet covered by hundreds of invisible layers I could never penetrate.
I dropped my hand in my lap. With a sigh, I got out of bed as well. There was no sense in lying back down alone. I had a busy day. My first day in the casino without Dante. I was anxious and excited at the same time. After a quick shower, I took a ridiculous long time trying on different outfits. I didn’t want to look too sexy, but I also didn’t want to hide my femininity. I knew those men, especially Raffaele, didn’t like that a woman was now working with them, and worse: their boss, and I had no intention of making this easier for them. They had to learn to deal with strong women, and if they couldn’t, that was their problem. I chose a knee-length dark-blue pencil skirt, matching slingback heels and a white blouse with a round neck and long puff sleeves. After I’d tugged the hem of the blouse into my waistband, I put my hair up in a bun, letting a few wayward strands hang down.
When I entered the dining room, it was deserted. I stopped in the doorway, letting my eyes rest on Dante’s usual place. His newspaper was folded beside his empty plate. With a sigh, I headed for my own chair. The door opened and Gaby walked in, carrying a carafe with fresh orange juice and a coffee pot. She smiled brightly at me. “Good morning, Mis…Valentina.” She gave an apologetic look but I only smiled, happy to see a friendly face in the morning. “I hope you slept well?”
My cheeks warmed unwantedly. “Yes, thank you.”
She poured me coffee and orange juice. “Would you like some eggs or pancakes?”
“No, I’ll only have a croissant and some fruit.” I gestured at the array of pastries and fruit in front of me.
Gaby turned to leave. “Wait,” I blurted, then flushed at how desperate I’d sounded. Gaby faced me with wide eyes, as if she worried she’d done something to offend me and would be punished. “Why don’t you keep me company?”
Gaby froze.
“Only if you want to. I’d like to get to know you better.”
A shy grin spread on her face, but she didn’t sit down.
“You don’t have to stand. Sit.” I pulled out the chair beside mine. Gaby put down the carafe and the coffee pot before she lowered herself gingerly in the chair.
“Have you had breakfast yet?”
Gaby hesitated, then shook her head.
“Then have a Danish. There’s more than enough food for the two of us.” I grabbed the basket and pushed it over to her. She took a chocolate croissant with a mumbled thanks, her cheeks turning red.
I grabbed one for myself, took a bite, then followed it with a hot gulp of coffee. I wanted to give Gaby some time to get past her nervousness. “Where do you live? I’ve been wondering about this since you told me your story.”
“Oh, I live with Zita and her husband. They took me in shortly after I started working for Mr. Cavallaro.”
“Are they treating you well?” Whenever I saw Zita, she was glowering or frowning. She didn’t seem like someone who should take care of a girl like Gaby, who’d gone through hell as a teen.
Gaby nodded her head vehemently. “Yes. Zita is strict but she treats me like family.” She put the last crumb of croissant into her mouth and swallowed before saying half embarrassed. “She’s starting to warm to you. Zita always needs some time to get used to new people.”
“Really? She doesn’t look like she’s liking me any better.”
Gaby gave a small shrug. “I’m sure she’ll change her mind soon.”
I couldn’t help but like Gaby. She was kind. I peered at the watch around my wrist. “I need to leave now. I want to be early on my first day at work.”
“Good luck,” Gaby said, rising from her chair. “I think it’s great that you want to work. You’re the only woman of your status who doesn’t only stay at home. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with being only a wife.”
I briefly touched her shoulder to show her I wasn’t offended, then followed her back into the staff area where Enzo was drinking coffee. He got up at once when he saw me. “You can finish your coffee. There’s no rush,” I told him. Despite my words, he picked up his cup and downed it in one swallow. Zita was throwing disapproving glances my way. I definitely couldn’t see her warming up to me. She hadn’t said anything yet except for a curt ‘good morning’ but I could tell that she wanted to.
“In my time, the wife of a Capo would never have deemed to work,” she muttered as she wiped the counters, which were already spotless.
“Times change,” I said simply.
“The deceased Mistress, may God rest her soul, was happy with the role of mistress of the house. She spent her days trying to make her husband happy and make sure he had a beautiful home.”
“Zita,” Enzo said sharply. “That’s enough.”
Zita pointed a finger at him. “Don’t talk to me like that.”
“Maybe we should head out now,” I said to Enzo. I didn’t want them to fight because of me. He nodded, grabbed his gun holster from the chair, and we walked in silence toward the garage.
“Thank you for speaking up for me,” I said as we sat in the car.
“Zita should show you respect. You are the Capo’s wife. He wouldn’t approve of anyone treating you like that.” Would he really care? “You should tell him.”
I shook my head. “No. I can handle myself, but thank you.”
Enzo inclined his head and the rest of the drive passed in silence. To my surprise, Enzo didn’t just drop me off at the casino. He followed me inside and didn’t budge from my side. I had a feeling Dante might have told him to keep an eye on me. I wondered if it was because he didn’t trust his men to treat me decently or if he didn’t trust me not to mess up. Neither option made me feel better.
Leo seemed surprised when he spotted me. “I didn’t expect you yet. Raffaele and the girls aren’t there yet. There’s not much to do right now.”
I headed straight toward the back where the offices were located. “I know, but I want to read up on our high rollers. I assume you have documents and statistics about them?”
Leo’s eyes darted between me and Enzo, who had his arms crossed over his barrel chest, looking like he was waiting for a chance to crush Leo’s head. No friendship seemed to be lost between them. “Yes, we do. Let me get them for you.”
I settled in the plush chair behind my desk, feeling out of place, but when Leo returned with folders full of papers, I held my head high and gestured at him to put them on my desk. “I’ll read them. Please let me know when Raffaele and the girls arrive so I can talk to them.”
Leo nodded and left without another word. Enzo hesitated, then he too walked out and closed the door behind him. I slumped in the chair, and let my eyes take in my windowless office. I grabbed the first folder, determined to learn everything I needed to know to do a good job. I didn’t want to disappoint Dante. I knew he was risking the wrath of many Made Men by letting a woman work this job.
***
My eyes were burning from the dry air-conditioned air, and I’d only gotten through two folders, when a knock sounded at my door. “Come in,” I called hoarsely. I clea
red my throat as the door opened and Enzo poked his head in. “Raffaele is here. Should I let him in?”
I stifled a smile. Was Enzo now acting as my secretary? “Yes, thank you.”
Enzo held the door wide open. Raffaele strode in with a scathing look in Enzo’s direction, who returned it with the same fervor. He closed the door and stood in front of it, arms crossed and hard eyes on Raffaele. “Can’t you talk to me without your watchdog?” he asked with a nasty smile.
I straightened. With my high heels I was as tall as him and immediately felt more at ease. “I could, but I won’t,” I said, making it sound as if it was actually my decision, and not Dante’s order.
Raffaele seemed taken aback, but he recovered quickly. “You wanted to talk to the whores. They are getting ready in their dressing room.”
“Good. Lead the way.”
Raffaele walked out without a word and headed toward one of the doors leading away from the main floor. Enzo was close behind us. Raffaele didn’t bother knocking, he just ripped open the door. A few of the girls let out surprised gasps, but when they saw who it was they quieted. Apparently they were used to that kind of behavior from him. Raffaele made a mock sweeping gesture, inviting me inside the dressing room. “Careful,” Enzo hissed, bringing his face very close to Raffaele’s. “Or do you want to lose another finger? Dante won’t let you stitch it back on.”
Raffaele turned red but he didn’t dare retort something nasty, though it was obvious from his expression that he wanted to.
I took a step into the dressing room, then stopped. “Is it okay if I talk to you for a moment?” I asked the gathered girls. There were ten of them, varying in age from their late teens – that’s what I hoped at least – to their late twenties. Some of them catered to the girl-next-door, cheerleader taste, while others were more exotic. Almost all of them were sporting silicon breasts. Their expressions ranged from suspicious over worried to outright scared. As if choreographed, their gazes sought Raffaele, silently looking for his permission. I could tell by the self-satisfied grin and the way he seemed to get bigger how much he enjoyed it.
“I want to have a word alone with the girls,” I told him firmly.
“But—”
“No but,” I said at the same time as Enzo gripped Raffaele by the collar and shoved him outside, then followed after him and closed the door so I was alone with the girls. I turned my full attention to the girls who’d all stopped what they were doing and were watching me. “Maybe you can introduce yourself. Name, age, how long you’ve been working for the Outfit.”
I pointed at a petite Asian girl in the corner when it became clear that none of them wanted to start. After that, they all seemed to relax and gave me their information without much prodding. To my relief, the youngest girl was already twenty, unless she was lying about her age.
“How are you being treated?”
Again silence.
“The Outfit treats us very well,” a girl named Amanda said.
“I want the truth. Does Raffaele treat you with respect?”
A few of the girls exchanged amused expressions, and finally one of them said. “We’re whores. Hardly anyone treats us with respect. Raffaele is no exemption.”
“He’s not the worst.”
“That’s your opinion, not mine.”
“Oh shut up.”
I raised my arms and the girls fell silent. “Okay. Who’s worse than Raffaele?”
“A few of the customers are into beating us up. And Tommaso wants some nasty stuff too.” That didn’t come as a surprise. Bibi didn’t tell me everything but the few things she’d shared with me about her sex life with Tommaso had made my stomach turn.
“I like it rough.”
“You like everything, but I don’t.”
“Oh get over yourself. They buy your body so they decide what to do with it.”
“You sound like Raffaele.”
“Okay, okay,” I said slowly. “What exactly is Raffaele doing?”
“He’s like our pimp. He tests us before he decides if we’re good enough to work here. And he makes sure we make the customers happy. And if we don’t, he punishes us.”
“I assume tests mean he’s sleeping with you?”
“Fucking us however he likes is more like it.”
“And what exactly does he do to punish you?” I asked, but the bruises the girls had been about to cover up with make-up before I entered gave me a good idea.
“He slaps us, or fucks us really hard. Or he sends us to one of the whorehouses at the outskirts of town.”
“The johns there are the worst. They are drunk, and brutal, and fat.”
I took a deep breath. “Okay. Any good things you can tell me?”
“The money is great. I can buy nice clothes and rent an amazing apartment. That’s something I could never do without this job.”
Many girls nodded, and I tried to take comfort in it. They all had started working as prostitutes on their own free will and they earned more money than most people with a college degree. I talked to them a bit more and asked them to tell me when a customer was too brutal. They promised to do it but I wasn’t sure if they were only saying it to get me off their backs. I’d have to talk to Leo and Raffaele about the situation.
When I stepped out of the dressing room, Enzo was waiting for me. “Where’s Raffaele?”
Enzo nodded in the direction of the bar. “He’s gone off to sulk. That boy would have been removed from the Outfit a long time ago if it weren’t for his father. Useless fucker.” He shut his mouth. “I apologize for the crude language.”
“No need. I’ve heard worse.”
Surprise crossed his face. Happy that I was making progress with Dante’s men, I headed toward Raffaele. He was perched on one of the bar stools, drinking what looked like a martini. “Isn’t it a bit early to start with the alcohol?”
Raffaele emptied his glass. “We’re the mob, not a convent.”
“I’d still appreciate it if everyone stayed lucid during work.”
“Maybe one glass is enough to get you drunk, but I know how to hold my liquor. I’m not a pampered woman.”
“Raffaele,” Dante’s voice sliced through the room like a knife. I whirled around as Dante walked toward us, his body brimming with angry energy. His cold eyes were focused on Raffaele who quickly slipped off the bar stool and stood, a flicker of nervousness replacing that self-satisfied arrogance. Enzo was grinning menacingly. I had a feeling he had kept Dante updated about the way things had been going so far.
Dante stopped right in front of Raffaele, fixing him with an expression of stark brutality. “If I hear one more word of disrespect from your mouth, I’m going to chop you into tiny pieces and feed you to your father’s dogs. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Boss,” Raffaele said hastily. He turned to me. “I’m sorry if I offended you.” He sounded sincere but there was something vengeful and bitter in his eyes.
Dante finally leveled his gaze on me. “I’d like to have a word with you.”
I fell into step beside him as we headed toward my office and stepped inside. Dante closed the door. Before he could say anything, I muttered, “Did Enzo call you?”
“Enzo didn’t have to call me. I’d intended on checking on you all along. I want to make sure your first day went well.”
I gave him a doubtful look.
“Why are you so surprised?”
“Because so far you didn’t strike me as the caring type of husband.”
Dante didn’t say anything, only watched me with that unnervingly cool gaze.
“I didn’t need you to defend me. I can handle myself,” I said when it became clear that he wouldn’t say anything.
Dante narrowed his eyes. “This is my territory. These are my men, and it’s my job to keep them in line. If they show disrespect toward you it’s only a small step until they dare to disrespect me as well. I won’t allow it.”
“You made me look incapable of doing my job. Raffael
e will think I’m weak because I need you to protect me.”
Dante came very close, engulfing me with his aftershave. “Valentina, the only reason why these men respect you is that you’re my wife. I know you don’t like it. I know you are strong, but you can’t exact dominance over these men like I do because you don’t have the same weapons as I do.”
“What weapons?”
“Cruelness, brutality, and the utter determination to kill anyone who disputes my claim of power.”
I held my breath. “What makes you think I wouldn’t kill someone if I had to? Maybe I’m capable of the same brutality as you.”
Dante smiled a joyless smile. “Maybe, but I doubt it.” He traced a finger down my throat. “Maybe you would have had the potential to survive in the Outfit, if you’d been brought up the same way boys are raised in our world. My father had me kill my first man on his orders when I was fourteen. A traitor that my father had tortured in front of me before I put a bullet in his head. After that, my father had one of his soldiers torture me to see how long I could stand the pain until I broke down and pleaded him to stop. I lasted less than thirty minutes. The second time I already lasted almost two hours. The tenth time my father had to stop the soldier or I would have died. I didn’t beg, not even to save my life. Be glad that you never got the chance to built your cruelness, Valentina.”
I had to swallow twice before I could speak. “That’s barbaric. How can you not hate your father for what he did to you?”
Dante’s finger lingered on the swell of my breast. The fabric of my blouse might as well not have been there, it felt as if he was touching bare skin. “I hate him. But I respect him too. Fear, hatred and respect are the three most important feelings a Capo must instill in other people.”
“In your wife as well?”
Dante pulled away his hand. “Hatred and fear have no place in a marriage.” He stepped away from me and casually walked over to my desk, which was piled with the folders I intended to read. “I see you’re trying to familiarize yourself with our high rollers.”
I had trouble to handle the sudden topic change. My mind was still reeling from the horrible things Dante had told me about his youth. No wonder he was so good at shutting himself off after the cruelty his father had subjected him to. I wondered how many of the scars marring his body were the result from those torture sessions and how many the result of an enemy’s attack. “Yes. I want to memorize their faces, names and quirks.”
