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by Kirsty-Anne Still


  “He can’t even deal with a bit of gore,” Giovanni begins to chortle. “What sort of pansies are you letting into the family?”

  “Giovanni!” my father bellows, slamming both fists down onto the table and standing up. “You have written Zane Maverick off from the first day your sister brought him into the family, but he is here to serve a purpose now. Just because you don’t mind killing or mocking people doesn’t mean we all do. Your baby brother does just fine without killing.”

  “That’s because he’s the gay boy of the family,” Giovanni mocks, shaming Manuel.

  “Get out of my sight or so help me, Giovanni,” my father grinds out, his jaw clenching so harshly the veins in his neck are standing out. “Everyone deserves a chance to prove themselves to me. I get the final say.”

  Giovanni goes to leave, clearly in a foul mood now that a man he dotes upon has put him in his place. But I can’t help but have the final say.

  “Oh, and Giovanni?” I call out politely. When he turns, I smile sweetly as I speak. “Call my brother a gay boy again and all those pretty threats will be closer than ever. You can push me all you like, but start to target Manuel and I won’t care how much it hurts. I will make sure you feel every bit of pain I am willing to inflict on you. It doesn’t do you much justice that I have my own grievances against you that will stop me from going lightly.”

  “Whatever, this family is a mess.”

  I sit nodding as he storms from the room. For once, I’m entirely on Giovanni’s side. However, I stop when I turn my head and find my father staring at me. His eyes are so venomous now, I wonder what it would take to find the antidote.

  “The meeting’s at ten AM. You best go get ready,” my father announces and stands up, tossing his napkin down onto the plate before him. “I have other business to attend to. Make sure this goes smoothly.” He starts to leave, speaking as he does so. “The car will be waiting for you in forty minutes.”

  “He’s pissed, isn’t he?” Zane asks me quietly, leaning in toward me.

  “Oh, yeah,” I mutter, throwing my fork down. “I’m going to get ready. Be ready, Zane. This is your first chance to prove your worth.”

  I saunter out of the dining room and leave them all to it. I head to my bedroom and go straight to my bathroom. Once in, I lock the door behind me and start the shower. I undress while the water heats up and make quick work of hopping under the pouring water. I wash myself quickly and allow the water to soak through my hair. I know if I stay in here too long, my thoughts will run wild, each vying for freedom. I grab my shampoo and quickly lather my hair up before rinsing it all out under the shower. I feel like I’m rushing everything, but if Zane is to make a good impression, it means Carlo and I cannot slack and be late. Being given limited time does not help my nerves to do so.

  When I leave the bathroom, steam billowing in my wake, I go straight to my dresser and pull out the first matching lingerie I find. I have no idea what I’m going to wear, but I need to get my hair dried and my make-up applied. Picking out a killer outfit should be the easy part. With a towel wrapped around my hair, I drop the one from my middle and use it to dry my body. I hear people speaking outside of my bedroom so I wander over and lock my door. I hear the muffled voices of Enzo and Carlo discussing this little mission and they seem very positive about it – at least someone does!

  Approaching my bed, I quickly put my underwear on and head for my vanity to dry my hair. As I do so, I wonder what Zane is doing. Is he pacing manically, gearing up to be a tough guy? Or does he want out already? I don’t spend an eternity hoping to dry my hair, I leave it to dry partially natural so my natural curls will work their magic. Again, my thoughts go back to Zane, and I wonder how he’s preparing for this. While I’m applying foundation to my freshly moisturized skin, adding eyeliner and mascara, drawing around my lips with a red lip pencil only to fill in the rest with red lipstick, what is he doing? How well is he prepared for what he’s being asked to do? He’s been asked to take on a tremendous task that all of us, apart from Manuel, have been entrusted to do in our lives. He is being asked more than one of our own.

  I sigh, unable to answer any of the questions that feed my curiosity, and as I pucker my lips and look at my complexion, I realize it’s something I’m just meant to find out. I cast my eyes to the clock on my wall and realize I have only ten minutes to find an outfit and really perfect my look.

  Leaving my room, I head to the door beside my bed and find myself standing in my large closet in nothing but sheer, black underwear. I’m staring at the vast majority of my clothing when I hear a rap on my bedroom door. I huff and stomp my way to the door to see who’s there. We were given half an hour to get ourselves ready to leave for the swap, and I’m nowhere near more ready than I was ten minutes ago.

  “What?” I ask as I swing my door open.

  “Oh, wow,” Zane gasps as he looks down me. I then see him smirk, rubbing his jaw as he does so. “You’re going to be the absolute death of me if you continue to dress like that.”

  I look down at myself. “Guess I’ve found my go-to outfit on these lonely, lonely nights.”

  “Amelia,” he groans, and I hear him get louder as I waltz away from the open door.

  “I have no time to stand around and talk. We have work,” I say as I enter my closet and decide to go for the plum wraparound dress Zane always used to love. I pull it over my body and feel the material fall over me. Immediately, I feel like I’ve chosen right. I grab a pair of Louboutins then head to my jewelery stand. I take over a long gold-chained necklace and find my favorite rings and earrings to match. As I leave the room, I’m putting my earrings in and find Zane sitting at my vanity table.

  “God, woman, what you do to me,” he comments his eyes roaming up and down my small frame.

  “Flattery will get you everywhere,” I announce and watch as his face lights up with hope. “Except in my panties.” I watch the grin on his face drop and my smile widens. “Now c’mon, Maverick, you’ve got an initiation to start.”

  I leave him as I grab the purse I used on the flight home and head out of the room. I walk down the hallway, my steps followed by Zane’s heavier footed ones. I love the feeling of him behind me. It makes me stand taller, makes me want to walk fiercer, and makes me feel like I’m in command. As I reach the stairs, I begin to walk down, my heels alerting Carlo that I’m ready to go.

  “Car’s just pulled up so good timing. I’ll brief in the car,” Carlo comments as he sees Zane and me heading down the stairs. He’s dressed in a navy blue suit with a black leather pouch under his arm; the same one my father always uses when there’s an exchange with cash involved. “Should I be concerning myself with your joint arrival?”

  “Nothing happened,” I say and head straight for the open front door. I see the car waiting, our driver and guard by the back door ready for me.

  “Something happened,” Carlo comments and I can just imagine the facial expression he’s giving Zane.

  “Seriously, she cock blocked me,” Zane moans as he leaves the house. “I didn’t even get something to welcome me to the family.”

  As Carlo begins to laugh, I look around as I reach the open back door. “Don’t encourage him!” I look at Zane and say, “Behave.”

  I climb into the car, finding that Zane follows suit while Carlo rushes around to get into the front passenger seat.

  “You nervous?” I ask as I sit in the back of the car.

  “Terrified,” he jokes, adding on a little laughter. “This is what every mission is like, isn’t it?”

  I look away and nod. I worry what he must be thinking. After all, he was aware of the death toll I had caused; he knew how many men I killed with intent. I ponder if he thinks every kill or mission is this informal. Not every time we leave the house is with a driver, security details, and a look of Mission Impossible. Most of my kills were men who wined and dined me prior to their demise.

  He reaches for my hand, and I can’t help but pull away.
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br />   “You get used to it,” I comment meekly. I shift uncomfortably in my seat and feel like I’m being watched like a hawk. When I look out of the corner of my eye, I catch Zane watching me with a small smile curled on his lips. “What?” I ask, keeping my vision forward.

  “Nothing,” he whispers sweetly. “You’re just adorable.”

  “Nice try,” I remark, laughing lightly. “I told you what flattery will get you.” I smirk harder as I look away from him. “So quit while you’re ahead.”

  “Can’t blame a guy for trying,” he comments and smirks. “Because I am going to keep trying.”

  Silence overcomes us after that as we just wait to reach Carmello’s house. I gaze out of the window, staring at the normal life going on around us. I sometimes find myself incredibly jealous of those who get to go out for a walk through Madison Square Park or can take their dogs for a walk. I envy those couples who go out and hold one another’s hands and friends who grab coffee. I’ve been sheltered from living that sort of life; I can only dream of what that sort of endless freedom would be like.

  “You ready, Lia?” Carlo calls out from over his shoulder, using the middle mirror to look over at me. I nod, and he gives me a wink. “What about you, Maverick? Scared yet?”

  “Terrified,” he quips at my brother and tries to hide his nerves with a chuckle. “But hey, this is smooth running, right?”

  “This is our father going easy on you,” Carlo quips as our driver takes a right and waits on a driveway before large iron gates. “Here we go!” he exclaims, almost too excitedly. For the one who plays the part in our family, he does get into the game easiest. As we pull to halt, Carlo gets out, and Zane and I follow. “We shouldn’t be more than twenty minutes tops. Any longer you come in, got it?”

  I see Matty nod and shut his door and lean against it. He’ll stay there clock watching until he’s needed, if he is. I know he’ll watch us like a hawk until we’re in the house, and even then, he’ll watch vigilantly until we’re back.

  All three of us walk up and Carlo gestures for Zane to take the lead. He does so and I could almost believe Zane has done this before. I wonder if he’s handling this like an arrest or raid as he would when he was a cop. His demeanor comes from being the levelheaded cop. He doesn’t even show his nervousness when he uses a steady hand to ring to let Carmello know we’re here.

  I straighten my dress as we wait, flounce my hair about and stand as tall and ready as I possibly can, all while trying to exude some of the calmness the two men before me have executed. I’m not even nervous for myself, only terrified for Zane. As the door opens, I feel a ball of dread roll into my stomach, but I have no time to voice my concern in confidence.

  “We’ve been expecting you,” a huge, muscle bound black guy in black announces. He looks menacing, with a face full of anger and a readiness to usher us inside with haste. “Get in now.”

  “No way to speak to a business associate,” Zane comments and enters.

  I hesitate for a moment unable to comprehend that Zane just took command.

  “Gonna come in, gorgeous, or stay on the door step?” the thug asks me, and I follow inside. “What I wouldn’t mind doing to you.”

  “Whatever you have in mind, stud, trust me when I say my payback would be worse,” I comment, not even bothering to give him eye contact. “I’m bad for your health.”

  “I’m sure you are,” he quips and bypasses me to stand before Zane and Carlo. “Carmello is out back seeing to renovations. He told me to bring you through when you arrived.”

  I follow through the house and the dread in me doesn’t disperse. We walk into a large room that seems to be in the middle of mass renovations and, instantly, I feel that ball of dread begin to grow in my stomach. Something isn’t right. But I have no time to voice my worry or grab onto Carlo. As soon as we’re in, I can feel an uncomfortable weight position behind me, and before I have time to inspect, hands wrap around the top of my arms and paralyzes me. Before I can call out, his arm moves across my chest, and I feel the cold, sharp edge of a blade press against my neck.

  “Boss, I’ve got her,” the thug who let us in speaks gruffly from behind me.

  “No,” I struggle to say, the blade pressing in harder than ever.

  My whispered response has Zane and Carlo looking quickly.

  “Fuck,” Carlo swears as he turns to see me captive. “This isn’t the deal!”

  “We’re here to swap money for diamonds,” Zane states. There’s alarm in his eyes, but the training he had to become an officer is clearly sparking to life. He has the ability to negotiate and he’s going to be using it to his advantage. “Now, let her go.”

  “Well, you see,” Carmello pipes up, stepping out of the shadows. He’s a large man with an unhealthy glow to him and a back comb hairstyle. He’s tanned, overweight and reeks of power. “We can’t do that. Salvatore owes me more than just a pitiful swap job. I thought his beloved Amelia was pretty good collateral damage.”

  “She isn’t anyone’s collateral,” Zane comments, and I notice that although he’s getting hostile, Carlo leaves him to play this part. “We have your money.” He turns and Carlo throws the pouch of money to him. “This, for the diamonds. That was the deal Salvatore said. Amelia is no form of payment.”

  “Like my good pal Sal, I like to change things up,” Carmello comments casually, reaching into his pocket to withdraw a small pouch that I can only assume is the diamonds. “Like him letting you take this job.” Carmello laughs when he sees Zane’s eyebrows furrow. “I know all about you,” Carmello acknowledges who Zane is. “The wannabe for Don Abbiati.”

  Zane scoffs, “You know nothing about me.”

  “No, no, I do,” Carmello comments, moving closer to Zane. “That pretty little thing over there was set to kill you. That didn’t happen too easy so Big Al stepped in to help the Dio Lavoro only to take Ms. Amelia’s stiletto to the neck.” He looks at me with hungry eyes. “Damn, girl, you are killer when it comes to those you love. I have to hand that to you. I wonder what pretty fortune your father will pay when he finds out you’re now working for me.” Carmello laughs, eying me quickly from head to toe. I feel like his gaze leaves a trail of dirt behind. “I actually bet you’d look good tied up on my bed. I can’t wait to fucking claim you as mine. No one will want you after I’ve ruined you.”

  My stomach bottoms at the thought of what his nasty mind is thinking up. Before I can truly panic, the look on Zane’s face loosens, but not for long. Suddenly, he comes bewildered with the rage that ignites in him and all at once, he’s picked the hammer up from the workstation before him and is slamming it into Carmello’s face. Blood sprays out and the wounded man yelps. Zane doesn’t stop with one hit. I watch as he slams the hammer into Carmello’s jaw, and another hit to the cheek sends the man to his knees.

  “I’ll go in for another hit if she’s not released in three seconds,” he threatens, raising the bloodied hammer above his head. “It’s an easy choice. If she’s harmed or not let go of, you’re both going to wish for a quick fucking death.” There’s a deliberate, contemplative pause, and I close my eyes as the knife pushes further into my neck. I whimper as I feel blood trickle down my neck a little, and as I open my eyes, I see Zane watching me. “You’re pushing me here. If anything happens to her more than already has, I’ll make sure you’ll learn pretty quickly that hell is a place on fucking Earth!”

  “Let her go!” Carmello orders, still shielding himself from the threat of taking the hammer to the face a fourth time. He’s not speaking much now, the damage to his jaw obviously done.

  Zane doesn’t speak until I’m released and back by Carlo’s side. The look he uses on Carmello afterwards is truly frightening. He’s heaving with such aggression, fueled by rage. I have never experienced this side of Zane before.

  “Don’t ever think you know a fucking thing about me,” Zane spits at Carmello, tossing the hammer aside. He leans in, and Carmello cowers a little. “Touch something that isn’
t yours again, and I’ll make sure the reminder is far more life limiting.” He stands up straight, taking the diamond pouch from the floor and turns to me. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I croak, pushing them away. I see the look he fixes me with and I crack a little. “I’m fine!” I reiterate and make my way to the table. I take the black pouch of our money and make a quick exit. I reach up to feel the cut, feeling the wetness of my own blood as I do so. I groan in frustration and storm out of the building.

  “We’re leaving, Matty.” My order comes so quickly that Matty doesn’t have a chance to get a door opened for me. I throw it open myself and slip inside, slamming it behind me. It doesn’t take the men more than two seconds to join me in the car and neither, thankfully, bring up what just happened.

  “That’s how a mafia man handles business!” Carlo praises, twisting in his seat to look over at Zane. “I cannot wait to tell everyone how you took Carmello down like a boss. Maverick, I think we have you severely underestimated.”

  “It’s always the underdog you worry about,” Zane comments smoothly. He looks smug with his triumph, but I know Zane most. This isn’t about what he achieved; this is about him managing to make it look like he can be one of us.

  “I think you deserve a reward for that,” Carlo says as he falls into his seat.

  ***

  “He was going to take her!” Carlo shouts at Giovanni. “I know you don’t give a shit about her, but it’s nice to find a guy who does besides us!”

  I listen to them argue as Enzo cleans me up. The moment he saw my paled face with crimson staining my neck, he wanted answers. My father is in with another business associate, so he’s still none the wiser. We have the diamonds, money, and the fear of Christ on our side.

  “Would our family really be any less if we didn’t have her?” Giovanni asks, throwing me a derogatory glare. “Daddy’s secret little weapon isn’t exactly a secret, if you didn’t know!”

  Carlo’s face reddens suddenly, and he charges for Giovanni. “She’s our fucking sister, you coglione!”

 

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