by Zoey Parker
When I’d first found out, I’d slashed the guy’s tires. Maria found out it was me, and after she kept threatening to call the cops, I knew I had to do something about it. So, I waited until she was at work and then I broke into her apartment, stealing all of her jewelry and making it look like one of the rival family’s jobs. Maria had bought the story hook, line, and sinker. I hadn’t even done that much damage, but it was enough to make her confess everything. Then I dumped her like the cheating bitch she was. I rarely thought about that anymore, but I was starting to wonder just how common my actions would have been. Maybe it really was one of those assholes from the other night, the guy with the gold watch or his friend in the scarf. Morris was small, but not that small. The family and I normally had a pretty good nose for crime, but I was feeling overwhelmed.
My phone rang just as I was backing out of the driveway. Thinking it was Isabella, I answered immediately.
“I’ll be right there,” I said through gritted teeth. “I can’t fuckin’ stay on the phone with you when I’m driving.”
There was a rich masculine laugh and all too quickly I realized my mistake. “You talking to a girl, son?”
I forced myself to laugh. “No, Lionel. What’s up?”
“Don’t ask me what’s up like I’m one of your peers, boy. You know damn well why I’m calling. You’d better tell me that coke deal is secure.”
Shit. The coke deal. I actually almost forgot about it for a second. “Uh, yeah, Dad, it’s coming along,” I lied. “Jake and I talked the other day about it, and we should have a date in place for next week.”
“That’s funny,” Lionel wheezed into the phone. “Did you know Jake is actually over here with me right now?”
Shit. “No, I didn’t. Dad, I have to go. I have to take care of something, I’ll call you back later, okay?”
“Don’t lie to me, boy,” Lionel sneered. “You need to straighten this out. You’re too much of a slacker, boy. You spend too much time drinking and chasing pussy. You ain’t eighteen anymore; you need to nut up and take over this fucking business. I’m not letting some degenerate ruin my family business.”
Lionel’s words burned me like a brand. The only man in the world I was afraid of was my father, and I knew I had good reason to be. If I didn’t make the deal to Lionel’s perfect standards, I’d be an outcast. Goodbye, secure job and lifestyle. Without my father’s help, I’d be mopping the fucking floor at an elementary school for the rest of my life.
“I’ll get it worked out,” I said through gritted teeth. “Something else happened and I’m trying to deal with that right now. But I promise, the coke deal is first and foremost on my mind. I know it’s going to work out, Pops, okay?”
Lionel grunted. The line was silent, and for a moment, I actually thought he had hung up. When his gruff voice came through the line, it shocked me. “Son, I’m disappointed in you,” he said slowly. “All this time, I thought you understood the importance of the family business. And now, I don’t think you do. I don’t think you understand just how hard I’ve worked to provide for you.” He paused and started coughing, a wet, retching sound that made me want to vomit. “I’ve given everything for you, son, and you can’t even find the time to repay me?” He made a little noise of disgust and I burned with shame.
“Pops, you know I’m trying to get this deal straightened out,” I said through gritted teeth. “But Jake hasn’t had any intel for me. If you’re desperate to get this done with the Russians, I don’t know how to proceed.”
There was another long silence. “You better figure it out,” Lionel snapped. “And soon.” He hung up before I could protest.
The anger from before came rushing back tenfold and I balled my hand into a fist, wound back, and then punched the steering wheel. I couldn’t fucking believe it; everything was falling to shit around me.
When I got to Isabella’s apartment, she was standing out front. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were stained with fresh tears. When she saw me, she gave a start and started sniffling again.
“Zane,” she mumbled, throwing herself at me.
I caught her in my arms and held her awkwardly for a minute, stroking her soft blonde hair. “What happened?” I pulled away and glanced over her shoulder. “Did they leave a note? Anything?”
Isabella shook her head. She pulled a crinkled tissue from her pocket and blew her nose loudly. “Just go inside,” she said miserably. “You’ll see what they did.”
I hadn’t believed Isabella on the phone but in person, I was astounded at the damage done. It looked like a human tornado had gone through the entire apartment. Dishes were broken on the kitchen floor and scattered everywhere. Isabella’s DVDs had been ripped from their cases, snapped into pieces, then dropped onto the floor. Someone had brought boxes of cereal over to the living room, dumped them out, the ground the food into the carpet until it was multicolored dust. I was in disbelief as I picked my way around, carefully looking in all of the closets and corners big enough for a man to hide.
“This is a fuckin’ disaster area,” I joked. “Someone better call FEMA.”
Isabella frowned. She hadn’t come inside again, but was lingering by the door and pressing herself against the frame. Even now, tired and cranky, she was gorgeous. Her tits looked amazing under that thin shirt and I could see the slightest hint of a curve on her lower belly.
“Thanks for coming over.” Isabella sniffled. She made eye contact with me. I tried to crack a smile at her but she didn’t respond. “I’m really scared, Zane.”
“I know,” I said in the most soothing tone I could manage. “A lot of shit is going down right now, but you’ll be okay, all right? Promise me you know that.”
Isabella shook her head. “I want to believe you,” she said softly. “But I can’t. I’m too afraid.”
“Stay there,” I cautioned. “I’m going to check the bathroom.”
There was a horrible smell coming from the bathroom and I realized the intruder had ripped one of Isabella’s towels into shreds and used it to plug the toilet. Holding my nose, I used the plunger to pull it out and toss it in the bathtub. The tub was filled with reeking water and lots of makeup, spilling in rainbow, oily smears across the water’s surface. Someone had really taken their time in her apartment. It looked like he’d gone from room to room, systematically destroying everything he saw.
In Isabella’s bedroom, the closet doors were flung open. Her clothes were cut to shreds on the floor and the plastic hangers were snapped, some still hanging by a broken hook. With a sigh, I glanced over the bed. The sheets and duvet had been ripped off the mattress and the mattress had been sliced through with a knife. Carefully, I ran my hands over the cuts. I wouldn’t have been surprised if whoever trashed her apartment had stashed a sharp object or two inside. But my hand only met with chunks of stuffing and exposed coils.
I shook my head. This was an insane amount of damage. I didn’t know Isabella well, but I knew she wouldn’t be able to afford fixing everything herself. Even if she had good insurance, that likely wouldn’t cover the cost of everything that had been done.
“Isabella,” I called. “Come in here.”
Her footsteps were light and cautious as she made her way back into the bedroom. She looked at me with her big blue eyes wide open and scared. “What is it?”
“Did you find a note? Anything?” I gestured around. “Some kind of a mark anywhere?”
Isabella shook her head. “I looked,” she admitted. “But I didn’t find anything.”
Sighing, I started combing through the ripped-up sheets and blankets on the floor. The pillows had been sliced open and every time I moved, feathers scattered in the air.
“I don’t think we’re gonna find anything,” I said darkly. “It’s probably for the best if we just leave now.”
Isabella sniffled. “I’m going to get some stuff,” she said. She blushed and looked down. “I assume I’m going home with you?”
I nodded. “You are. I’m gl
ad you’re finally listening to me.”
Isabella’s blush deepened. “Okay,” she said softly. “Just give me a few minutes.”
I sat on the ruined mattress and watched as Isabella lifted pieces of clothing up, a disgusted expression on her face. “All of this stuff is ruined,” she said sadly. “I’m never going to be able to replace all of this.” Her voice broke and I realized she was crying again. “Oh, Zane, I don’t know what to do.”
“It’ll be okay,” I said gruffly. “Just get your shit together and we’ll leave. You’ll need new clothes soon anyway.” I glanced down at her belly. “New jeans, at least.”
Isabella blushed. She didn’t argue. I guessed she was finally starting to believe me. I was still angry with her for leaving, but her apartment would have been trashed either way. I was just glad she’d been at my place the night before when someone had broken into of her apartment.
“Thank you,” Isabella said softly. “I’ll pay you back, you know I will.”
I waved my hand in the air. “Don’t worry about it,” I said dismissively. “Everything will be fine.”
Isabella went in the bathroom and came back a few seconds later, looking discouraged. “Did you know they even ruined my toothbrush?” She made a face, holding up a melted stick of plastic. “Assholes,” she spat, throwing the object on the ground. “I can’t believe someone would do this.”
I laughed drily. “Oh, I can. Unfortunately, this shit is the tip of the iceberg. Someone wanted to warn you.”
“About what?” Isabella wrinkled her nose. “Why would someone be after me?”
For a moment, she looked so innocent and guarded that I wanted to tell her everything. I wanted to tell her about Gianni, about how her father’s business had made some of the biggest sums of money for the family we’d ever seen. But the urge passed after a few seconds. Better just to leave her ignorant. If some asshole tried to kidnap her again, I couldn’t have her giving any information away.
“No idea,” I said flatly. “Come on. Let’s go. We’ll stop by the store on the way to my place and I’ll get you a new toothbrush. Just in case you had any thoughts about using mine.”
Chapter 17
Isabella
I couldn’t believe Zane was being so nice to me. First, he offered to replace all my clothes. Then, he told me he was going to buy me all new toiletries. I definitely needed them, but he could have asked me to buy that shit myself. I was surprised to see a different side of him, a side willing to take responsibility for me and our unborn child. Maybe I’d been wrong about Zane, maybe he wasn’t as bad as I thought.
“Come on,” Zane urged. “I haven’t got all day. We gotta get the fuck out of here.”
I rolled my eyes as Zane hustled me towards the front door. Almost all of my stuff had been ruined — even my prescription medication I sometimes took for sleep. I didn’t even know if I could take it now that I was pregnant, so I left it behind. The only things I took with me were a couple pairs of shoes, one pair of jeans that had been miraculously untouched, and a scarf. I shuddered when I thought of everything that had been ruined. I’d been hanging onto some of those clothes for years, since high school, even. It was depressing knowing I’d never be able to wear them again, that I’d have to go out and get a whole new wardrobe. I wasn’t so much upset about the clothes, but the idea that someone could just come in and destroy my life so quickly was really upsetting to me. Soon, when I moved out, my neighbors would forget me. It was like Isabella Bianchi would have never existed.
I shivered. I was thinking too much and getting weirded out. I always did that during times of stress. When I first thought my singing career was going to take off, I’d skipped lots of shifts at Maison Bridges for the chance to drive into the city and sing that night. If I never made it to the top of the list, I’d come home empty-handed. Then I’d be so tired I collapsed into bed, sometimes even still clad in my evening dress. But after a few hours, the narrative in my head would stay the same. Isabella, you don’t have any money. Isabella, they’re going to arrest you and drag you off to debtor’s prison. Isabella, you haven’t paid your credit cards and collectors are going to be calling you.
It was all the same. Time after time. I’d struggled like this for years without recognition. The most anyone could say about me was that I was a decent waitress, and I doubted Ricardo and Tammy would even say that. Maybe I deserved this, maybe I deserved everything that was happening to me.
Oddly enough, I wasn’t depressed about my apartment being trashed. It almost felt freeing, knowing I wouldn’t have to clean anything or take care of anything that had been ruined. By the time we got to the car, I was almost smiling. Sure, it was scary, but life was scary, and at least Zane was trying to take care of me.
“What are you grinning about?” Zane narrowed his eyes at me. “Don’t you think today’s been fucking weird enough?” He laughed drily. “Or is this some pregnancy hormone shit? You know, I don’t understand you women. Not at all.”
I shook my head. “You wouldn’t understand,” I said flatly. “Just…it’s kind of a weird, freeing feeling, you know? I worked my whole life to get everything that I have and now that it’s gone, I realize I didn’t actually care that much about my stuff.”
Zane snorted. “You women are fucking weird,” he said as he pulled open the passenger door of his Porsche for me to crawl inside. “If that had been me, I’d be freaking the fuck out right now.”
“But it wasn’t you,” I snipped. “And I’d think you would have been glad I didn’t start crying again.”
Zane gave me a long look before getting inside the car and turning the key in the ignition. “I have enough shit on my plate to deal with,” he said. “And if I leave the house, I’m posting a guard with you. If someone’s out to get you, they wouldn’t stop at breaking into your apartment.”
I gasped. “You can’t be serious!”
Zane looked at me with a solemn look on his handsome, rugged face. “Try me,” he snapped. “I’m fucking dead serious, honey.”
I glared at him. “Sorry, I guess I’m just not used to things being this horrible,” I said, sticking my tongue out. “Most of the time, I don’t have to worry about anyone trying to kill me!”
Zane laughed; a deep, throaty sound. “Get used to it,” he muttered. “Especially if you keep hanging around me.”
I pouted and leaned back against the seat. Zane still hadn’t told me whatever it was he did for a living, and now I wasn’t even sure I wanted to know. None of this was making sense. Zane was clearly wealthy, and he obviously had something that made other people want to attack him. He had an incredible mansion, a luxury car, and, ostensibly, lots of free time. But this was New Jersey, for fuck’s sake! We didn’t have dangerous things around! It wasn’t like we had biker gangs, or lots of weird criminal activity. At first, I hadn’t even wanted to admit to myself Zane was involved in something that was likely illegal. But now…I gulped. Now, it was starting to seem like the only option.
“What do you do for work, anyway?” I looked over at Zane, screwing my face up and hoping desperately for a reply.
Zane laughed again. “Like I’d tell you. Trust me, it’s better that you don’t know.”
I folded my arms over my chest and slunk down low in the plush leather seat. I loved Zane’s car, I loved the sheer wealth it spoke of. The leathery seats felt like butter, and Zane even turned on the seat warmers for me when he noticed I was shivering.
“It’s nice, ain’t it?” Zane cracked a grin at me.
For the first time in days, I felt the slow, languid spread of arousal through my lower belly. I held back a smile. Zane reached over and slid a hand down my body, making me gasp as he touched my sensitive breasts. Unlike the water that morning, his touch didn’t hurt and I cried out for more after he’d taken his hand away. Lust stirred in my lower belly and I reached over the seat, fondling Zane’s knee and sliding my hand up his leg. Zane groaned and arched his hips. I could already see a massive
erection springing up inside of his jeans and I smiled to myself. At least I haven’t lost that, I thought suddenly. At least I can still turn him on.
Suddenly, Zane jumped. I yanked my hand away like I’d been scalded. “What the fuck!” Zane shouted. “That guy about fuckin’ tried to run me off the road!”
“What?” I twisted around in the seat and craned my neck. “Zane, what are you talking about? I don’t see anyone!”
