by Mia Ford
“The fuck kind of greeting is that,” I snapped. “I’m the fucking head of the family!”
Monty looked up at me with tired eyes. His face was deeply lined from years of defending my family, and I knew he must be exhausted. Still, I couldn’t recall any compassion to hand. All I could think about was how angry I felt – how stupid it was that I was sitting in this cell. Didn’t New York know who I was? Didn’t they know how important I am?
“Look, Alessio, you gotta chill the fuck out,” Monty said. He yawned, rubbing his eyes with tired fists. “I can’t come in here and bail you out just because you decided to put yourself in the middle of a fight.”
“That asshole was undercover!” I snapped. “How the fuck was I supposed to know that I was dealing with a cop, huh? How the fuck was I supposed to get that right off the bat?”
“Keep your goddamned mouth shut,” Monty hissed. He pulled out a folder and opened it, glancing down. “You’re looking at a hefty fucking fine, Alessio. You gotta start behaving.”
I glared, leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms over my muscular chest. “Fuck that,” I snapped. “Like I’m going to fucking keep my head down! I’m the goddamned head of the Amoruso family!”
“No one cares about that in here,” Monty said. He sounded exhausted. “Just listen to me and you’ll be fine.”
“I want out!” I yelled, jumping out of my chair and walking over to the bars. Grabbing them in my hands, I peered out and tried to look down the hall to the police station.
“Alessio!” Monty snapped. “Get the fuck over here!”
“Fuck you!” I snapped right back. “You don’t get to tell me what to do!”
“Alessio, I swear to god,” Monty mumbled under his breath. “You ain’t never getting out of this jail unless you learn a little humility.”
I glared. “Just get my bail and get me out of here,” I said. “They don’t have anything on me. They’re just keeping me here to piss me off. This ain’t how you treat someone like me.”
“They can treat you however they damn well please,” Monty said. “You were caught with a black market gun and a half-ounce of cocaine. You think they’re just gonna let you waltz out of here without some fancy ankle bracelet? You can’t be that stupid, Alessio.”
“Don’t fucking call me stupid!” I screamed. I felt the blood rushing to my face, under my cheeks. “You don’t know anything!”
Monty looked up at me with clarity and knowledge in his dark eyes. His look was so intense that I felt my jaw drop and I lowered myself back down into the uncomfortable plastic chair.
Monty laughed. “Yeah, you’d better keep looking at me like that,” he said. He shook his head from side to side. “You really think I don’t know shit, Alessio? What happened to Michael, huh?”
I glared at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said hotly. “Michael who? Who the fuck are you talking about?”
Monty shook his head and leaned back in his chair. He let out a low whistle, the kind someone would use to attract a big dog.
“Alessio, I know you think I’m just a strip mall hack, but trust me – I got eyes and ears all around this city. I know what you did,” he said, staring at me without blinking. “And I know that you know what you did, even if that wasn’t the plan.”
“Fuck the plan,” I snarled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I rolled my eyes. “Stop trying to scare me, Monty. Get me out of here. Get my bail set and get me out. I’m fuckin’ hungry,” I complained. “I haven’t eaten in hours.”
Monty snickered. “Alessio, you’ve got a lot of learning to do, kid,” he said slowly. “You seriously think I don’t know about what you did?” He shook his head. “You’re really fucking stupid sometimes. A little humility would serve you well.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Michael Bennett,” Monty growled. He leaned over the table and glared at me. “I know what you did, Alessio.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever,” I snarled. “I don’t care who knows. Just get me the fuck out of here.”
Beth
When I left Douglas and Gabrielle’s, I couldn’t sleep. I wandered the streets near the condo, wondering what I’d have to do to get back into Douglas’s good graces. Not that I cared what he thought of me, but there was no way I’d be able to support myself given what few tools I had. If I wanted to survive in New York, I’d have to find Michael’s killer and bring him to justice…and fast.
I didn’t know where to start, so I went to the library and signed up for a slot at the computers. The library was practically empty as it was the middle of the night – the only people sitting at tables were obviously college kids, with giant cups of espresso and bags of cheese crackers. I envied them – they were so young, they had no idea what life could really throw when it wanted to. Back in college, I’d been naïve and happy-go-lucky. It was so hard to believe how much had changed in four years.
Thinking of Michael was incredibly painful. For a few moments, I’d almost forget and it would be easier to breathe. Then his lean face would slide into my mind and I would choke, gasping for air. I couldn’t stop wondering how much pain he’d been in when he died – did he know what was coming? Was he frightened?
Had he thought of me in his final moments?
I shuddered. Finally, a computer was freed and I slid into the seat still warmed by the other person’s ass. I pulled up a search engine and stared for a few minutes, before typing in the name Amoruso. I glanced around me, suddenly frightened that a thug was going to come out of the darkness and shoot me like they’d shot Michael. Finally, I pressed ‘enter’ and closed my eyes as I waited for the results to load.
When the articles loaded, I was shocked. The page was filled with acrimonious accusations against the Amoruso family. I couldn’t believe it – until just a few hours ago, I’d thought of the family as a successful restaurateur dynasty. But I was starting to learn that there was much more.
One of the articles caught my eye. The headline read: “Gianni Amoruso killed in auto accident – truly an accident?”
I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself as I waited for the page to load. Just as the text began to narrow and focus in front of me, someone grabbed the back of my neck. I tried to cry out but a hand slipped over my face and tightened over my mouth.
“Mmnf!” I cried. “Mnf!”
“Shut up,” a male voice hissed in one ear. “You want to wake the fucking dead, lady?”
My eyes were wide in fear and I tried to turn around in the chair but the hands were gripping me powerfully.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” the voice hissed in my ear. “You close the browser. You get your shit, and you leave the library. And you forget this ever happened.”
My heart turned to ice in my chest and I shivered. I tried to cry out but the hand pinched my lips together in a painful way and I felt my eyes well with tears. What was happening? Why was I being targeted like this?
And how had they known?
“You forget everything you heard downtown today,” the voice growled. “I’m giving you one chance to act like this never happened, you understand girlie?”
Slowly, I nodded my head.
“Now, close the page.”
With a shaking hand, I clicked out of the browser and deleted the history.
“Good,” the voice whispered in my ear. “You better hope you never see me again.”
But I can’t see you now, I wanted to protest. Who the hell are you?
After a few seconds, the death grip on my neck and mouth were released and I went hurling through the quiet air of the library, gasping and choking.
I tried to turn around and see who had attacked me, but the library was dark and quiet. The college kids were still sitting and studying, and I had the sinking feeling that none of them had noticed what had just happened. Nervously, I grabbed my bags and walked out of the library on shaky legs.
I knew what I had to d
o. I had to go downtown – to the police station – and report what had just happened. Obviously, someone in the Amoruso family was following me…and obviously, they wanted to keep what had happened to Michael a secret.
Well, this made me more determined than ever to bring my fiancé’s killer to justice.
I caught a cab and ducked low in the backseat as we drove downtown. The driver kept giving me odd looks in the rearview mirror, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was finding Detective Aberson and telling him what had happened to me. I could still feel the icy grip of fingers at the back of my neck, almost like I’d been grabbed by a ghost.
As the cab pulled up to the police station, I ducked my head up from the seat and quickly pulled a few dollars out of my wallet. That alone made me want to panic – I had almost nothing in my bank account, and in a few days, I’d be completely broke. If I didn’t get to work on finding Michael’s killer, I’d be out on the streets.
The cabbie eyed me. “You okay, lady?”
I nodded and sniffled. As he pulled away, I tried to stand up straight and figure out what to say to Detective Aberson. I was at the library, looking up the Amoruso family, and some guy threatened me, I thought. Yeah, that’s it. He’ll believe that, right? I mean, this is a ruthless family and they’re not going to stop until they make sure I won’t talk.
Just as my hand was on the door, someone grabbed me from behind. I cried out as fingers dug painfully into my upper arms and hustled me into a side alley. Someone threw me against the brick wall and pinned me back. When my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I realized it was a bulky man with olive skin and silver hair. He was breathing hard, and there was a bandage wrapped around his chest. His eyes were intense and dark, and the look on his face told me that he meant business.
“Don’t say a fucking word,” the man growled. He leaned in close. “I know why you’re here, and you’re gonna go home now and forget all about this.”
I whimpered and cried out in pain as he slammed me against the bricks once more.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I cried softly. “What do you want with me?”
The man growled. “You’d better fucking stop this bullshit right now, girlie,” the man hissed. It was a different voice than the one I’d heard at the library, and yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that the men were one in the same.
“I don’t know,” I cried. “Leave me alone!”
“Shut the fuck up,” the man hissed. “You keep your fucking nose out of this business, you understand? You ain’t got nothin’ to say to the cops, you hear me? You ain’t got nothin’!”
I narrowed my eyes and glared. “I’ll do whatever it takes to see the man who killed my fiancé brought to justice,” I growled. “Just try to stop me.”
The man shook his head slowly. He balled his hand into a fist and I closed my eyes, screwing my head away. When his fist connected with my jaw, pain bloomed in my head like I’d been shot. I cried out as he punched me over and over again. Stars and fireworks exploded in front of my eyes and I tasted salty, irony blood as my tongue sliced open against my teeth.
“The fuck you will,” the man growled. “You try anything else, and it’ll be the last thing you do.”
He started punching me over and over. As much as I tried to fight back, I knew that it was useless.
I was going to die, just like Michael, and I wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing about it.
Alessio
Two days later, I was back at home, on bond. I was fucking furious that Monty had taken so long to get me out of jail – it was embarrassing. As the head of the Amoruso crime family, I shouldn’t have had to wait like some peasant. I was one of the most important fucking men in New York, god damnit, and I wanted a little fucking respect.
Still, here I was – on a thirty thousand dollar bail. The money was just a drop in the bucket, I’d had Monty collect the cash from a few people who owed me, and I was out, just like that. Still, I wasn’t looking forward to trial. Monty kept saying he wasn’t sure if he could get me out or not, and I wanted to make sure that he wouldn’t ever work again in this town if I had to go back to prison for more than two fucking seconds. Sometimes, I hated the way the world had changed. It wasn’t possible anymore to be a respected boss – back in the day, being the head of a crime family meant actually getting some fucking respect. It meant making deals with the cops, and making deals with the “proper” businessmen of the town.
It certainly didn’t fucking mean wasting away in a holding cell while my incompetent lawyer bumbled with my bail and release.
The trial was set for a few months from now, and my goal was to find a couple of real hotshot lawyers. Either they’d scare Monty into behaving and doing his job, or I’d find the Amoruso family a real upgrade from Monty Giaradella. It was hard to believe my father had trusted Monty so blindly – Monty had done nothing so far to prove to me that he deserved the level of status and respect that he demanded.
It was enough to make me sick.
Silvio was doing better – he’d only been in the hospital for a few hours, and now he was out and hobbling around like nothing had happened. He’d been trying to cheer me up all afternoon, but nothing he could say was going to make me feel any better.
Finally, he slammed his fist down on the table and yelled my name.
“What?” I looked up. “What the fuck is it, Sil? What the fuck do you want?”
“Alessio, you can’t keep moping around like some goddamned teenager,” Silvio spat. “You gotta cheer yourself up. Look, I’m throwin’ a party tonight down at the docks. Hookers and booze and the best goddamn cigars outside of Cuba. You’d better be there.”
I rolled my eyes. “I ain’t a kid,” I snapped. “Fucking some hooker isn’t gonna cheer me up, and I think you fucking know that.”
Silvio threw his arms in the air. “I ain’t taking your bullshit,” he snapped. “Come on, Alessio.”
An hour later, Sil and I were down by the docks. I’d greased the tracking anklet off my ankle, and I was happy to pour champagne down my throat and grab at titties like a little kid. Hookers were hopping around in skimpy little outfits. I picked one that looked like Cosetta and pulled her in a back room.
“Hey, Cosetta,” I said, lying down on the bed. “Why not suck me off for a while, eh?”
The girl pouted. She had long dark hair and big eyes, but there was something soulless in the way she smiled.
“My name is Nicole,” she said stiffly. “You make a habit of talking to women like that?”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t care if your name is Thomas,” I snapped. “Get down there!”
Nicole crawled on the bed. She unfastened her purple silk bra and let her large breasts swing in the air. Her brown nipples were stiff and dark, and I longed to take them into my mouth and suck until she was screaming with pleasure. Nicole locked eyes with me and slid a hand down her body, toying with herself and moaning a little as her fingers slid inside of her panties. My cock stiffened inside of my trousers as Nicole tugged her panties down, revealing a shaving pussy dripping with wetness.
“Come here,” I growled. Nicole tumbled into my arms and I closed my eyes as her warm mouth began kissing a slow trail down my body. Just as things were getting really good, the door burst open. Nicole screamed and leapt away from my body, pulling the sheet around her tits like she was a real good girl, not some hooker that Silvio hired to make me feel better.
Silvio was standing there, breathing hard.
“Sil, what the fuck?” I exclaimed, sitting up in bed and glaring. “I was just starting to relax, too! God fucking damnit!”
Silvio reached for Nicole and grabbed her by the arm, tossing her out of the room. She cried out in pain as Silvio kicked her over the threshold, then slammed the door.
“What the fuck?” I demanded loudly. “What the fuck is going on here?”
Silvio shook his head. “Things are bad, boss,” he said. “There’s this nosy little bitch trying
to ruin us all. I had my men chase her down twice, but she ain’t showing no sign of slowing down.”
I glared at him. “And what the fuck do you want me to do about that?”
“Fucking show her that we mean goddamned business,” Silvio said.
“Who is she?” I narrowed my eyes. “You know there ain’t no woman strong enough to stand up to me and the family.”
“Beth Wilson,” Silvio said. “Michael Bennett’s fiancée.”
Beth
When I came to, I was shaking and cold. My eyes were so swollen that I could barely open them, but despite the brutal beating I’d endured, I was feeling better than I could have expected. I climbed up on unsteady feet and walked out of the alley, brushing myself off.
There was no one following me, but somehow I knew that it would be a bad idea for me to go into the police station looked as abused as I did. I knew that more likely than not, I would get peppered and assaulted with questions about who had hurt me – and if anything, that might make the cops and detectives even less likely to help me find Michael’s killer.
I’d had a gut feeling when I’d talked to Douglas, and now that thugs were following me and trying to threaten me into silence, I felt even worse. I knew that the Amoruso crime family had something to do with Michael’s death – more than just something – but I had no idea how I was supposed to catch them in the act.
I wound up going to a diner and buying a paper. I ignored the headlines – Michael’s death hadn’t yet made the papers, and I had a feeling that Douglas was purposefully orchestrating the coverage about his son. With Douglas’s influence and money, it would be weeks before the public found out what happened. But I had a feeling that skimming the paper would help at least point me in the right direction. And after all, that’s all I was trying to do. I wanted to learn as much as I could about the Amorusos, and the diner was a perfectly public place to do so.
An older waitress stopped by, grey-haired and puffy in the face. She didn’t even look at my wounds as she took my order, and I thanked god for the ability to blend in so well in public. Finally, when I was alone, I opened the paper to the crime briefs of the day.
