Detective Gleason straightened his stance as he replied, “Mr. Salluzzo was involved with several known underground crime families. Finding him in the manner we did, it’s clear to the law enforcement community someone, more than likely the person he crossed, wanted to send a clear and powerful message to anyone considering going against the Family, or to the authorities.”
Sophia slammed her hand on her desk and pressed the mute button, silencing the remaining commentary. “Motherfucker got off too fucking easy!”
I scooted to a far wall and placed my back against it. The message was meant for me, a clear warning. If I opened my mouth or tried to go against the Family, I would find the same fate. Now the reason for Sophia sticking around was clear. She was keeping an eye on me, insuring I didn’t talk to the police, or anyone else.
“Excuse me?” The voice of the deliveryman pulled me from my impending panic attack, making me jump slightly while placing my best fake smile on my face. “Sorry, Miss, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
I had no idea if he worked for the Family or not, but I wasn’t going to take a chance. Walking over to him, I shifted my eyes to his clipboard and took a pen from my apron. I would give no reason for any questions to come my way. I signed and thanked him loud enough so both Sophia and Gabby heard when they came out of the office into the hallway.
“Oh, Glen, how is your family? I heard your mother had to have her gallbladder removed?” Sophia chatting him up like he was an old family friend confirmed he was close to the Family.
I started to unpack the boxes he had delivered. As I sat the last box down, I looked over to the floorboards where I’d recently discovered the hidden guns. Maybe I needed to have something of my own hidden about.
“Hey, Ari, I have an idea.” Gabby stood beside Sophia holding a white Styrofoam cup in her hand, feeding her near constant caffeine addiction. “Let’s go have pedicures done.” Expressive eyes and raised eyebrows challenged me to refuse.
Once again, my life was not my own.
“Oh, what a great idea! There’s a place over on Highland, Mimi’s Nails. They give you a glass of wine while they work on your toes. The owner owes me a favor, I’d be happy to call over.”
Corey never allowed me to have my toes or fingernails polished. No explanations of why, but I knew it wasn’t because he cared what I looked like, his other women wore nail polish and makeup. For him it was about control, having me under his thumb was power to him. Comparing Corey to Dominick, the difference was more than just seats on the crime ladder. Dominick had a confidence about him Corey strived for, but even if he were still alive, he’d never be able to achieve it. Where Corey used fear by carrying a gun, Dominick used his reputation of the man he had always been. Something you couldn’t learn nor a path you chose to follow. Every day since I had left New Orleans, I had worn makeup with a triumphant smile, just for me. It was a way of taking back the power stripped away from me by a man I hadn’t loved or cared for. Where Corey had to have his control, Dominick had his own, leaving me to fear him for what he could do to me if I spoke, not for how I dressed. Both were measures of control, one no greater than the other. With fear I had choices, decisions I could make for myself. Today, I was choosing to spend time with my friend, being the girl I had wanted to be for years, pampered, polished, and on my way to pretty.
“Sure, Gabby, sounds great. Thanks, Sophia.”
As darkness once again took watch for the day, I sat in my spot against the wooden bookshelf looking through the sheer curtains for any signs of life in the pitch-black street. I tried to find the man usually positioned on the roof, only to come up empty. Maybe even gang members got the night off once in a while.
Mimi’s Nails was everything I pictured it to be. Black leather pedicure chairs lined the exterior walls, too many to count in the center of the room. The smell of nail polish and acrylic filled the air. Conversations buzzed around the room while ladies sat in high-backed chairs, their hands stretched across small tables, and their smiling nail artists listening with feigned interest, focused on the tip which should come with the pleasantries. I had to question how many of these ladies were there to watch me, were reporting back to a man with money and a shiny gun.
“Good morning, ladies.” A nasally sounding receptionist greeted us from behind the long desk. Her hair, a bouffant mess, reminded me of a diner waitress from the late fifties and sixties, complete with the cat-eye glasses perched on the end of her nose. Purple lipstick complimented her spike-shaped fingernails, so long I silently questioned how she managed to wipe her own ass. A Zebra-print smock wrapped around her top, Mimi embroidered in hot pink over her left breast, which needed its own zip code as her chest spilled out beyond the animal print.
Gabby, who must have been here prior and was unaffected by the atmosphere, greeted the lady, “Morning, we have appointments under Santos.” At the mention of the name, the red-headed lady stood up straighter, her smile became more pronounced, and dare I say, dollar signs danced in her eyes. Taking a look over her shoulder, she snapped those foot long acrylic fingernails to get the attention of two anorexic looking girls, who ended their conversations and came to assist us with cell phones in hand.
“Sasha, Monique, give these ladies the works. They are the personal guests of Mrs. Santos.” I doubt if the First Lady herself had walked in, would these girls have moved faster or smiled brighter. We were escorted to a private, curtained off area with a set of chairs. The basins were already filled with colorful water, and glasses of wine along with a plate of fruit awaited our consumption.
Where Mimi dressed in Leopard print, her staff was decorated in hot pink and black spandex. Many of the women we passed were dressed in similar fashion: animal prints with tight, shiny, painted-on pants. Sophia might be impressed by the glasses of wine they poured down your throat, not realizing it was a necessity as this was the place where spandex came to die.
Gabby slipped her sandals off, eased her toes into the bubbling water, and closed her eyes, moaning like she was in the middle of an orgasm. Sasha handed me a glass of wine and a heated towel wrap for my neck. She complimented me on my choice of shoes, swearing she had seen a pair just like them in a magazine last week. Sasha was full of empty compliments and bullshit. I’d picked these shoes up at an outdoor vendor during one of my late night excursions around New Orleans. She excused herself, telling me she’d let me relax for a few minutes but would return. No doubt to call whomever and let them know I had arrived. Still, the water felt great and the chair massage did feel good against my back.
“Next time, we can have a hot stone massage instead,” Gabby mentioned as she took a sip of her wine.
I sat my glass down; the thought of drinking before noon didn’t appeal to me. Though I tried to close my eyes and let the warm water swirling around my toes relax me, I couldn’t help looking around. While our area was closed off, the thick curtains making it impossible for anyone to see us, if someone were sat behind us, we could hear their conversation.
In one of the brief times I did manage to close my eyes, a group of girls had been seated behind us. I glanced over at Gabby who’d also noticed the new additions. Her eyes were fixed on the girl behind us, however.
“Fuck me,” Gabby whispered and motioned for me to look.
Being as stealthy as possible, I moved the curtain aside and noticed a dark-haired girl sitting beside a blonde. The dark-haired girl I remembered from the day at the shop when Marissa had demanded flowers, which Sophia gave her on the house. She had left the shop just after Sophia’d come in.
“You know, Marco said Dominick didn’t go to Vegas with them this time.” The blonde beside her was tapping away on her phone, not looking up as she responded, “I haven’t seen him in weeks. Not since before the hit on Anthony.”
“He was really quiet in church this week, he didn’t even stick around for the blessing.”
“He’s been sending one of the other guys with delivery’s since the last time I saw him,” the b
londe returned.
“Something is up. Marco said he hasn’t been to Haides since he found Marissa in the bathroom.”
“Marcus said he hasn’t been to the flower shop to visit Sophia since she sold it.”
“Why would he? She sold it for a fucking steal, I heard.”
“Yes, but she’s there, and we both know Antonio and Sophia love her. I would have thought she would have been on his arm by now,” the blonde spat out like she were about to vomit.
“Well, Marissa said Ari told her she wasn’t interested in him.” I wasn’t stupid, they were talking about me now. Were there no secrets in this group? I had saved Marissa that night, and she’d run and told people I didn’t know about it.
“Are you fucking serious, London? He’s single, rich, has a huge, great, skillful, fucking dick, and is about to be the most powerful man in the city. What’s not to like?”
“She’s completely stupid, Miranda. What happens when that cute little shop of hers gets broken into? She’ll regret ever turning her nose up at him.”
“That might be a good thing.”
London turned her body so she was almost facing Miranda. “Why do you say that?” Neither girl looked around to see if anyone was listening. Like a moth to a flame, I was suckered in, hoping to learn of any threats, which might be headed my way.
“Well… if she were to get roughed up a little, it might be enough to scare her away.”
“So?”
“Think about it, London, if he is holding a torch for her like I think he is, then he’s not going to keep his distance. He won’t be able to offer her protection. Antonio would never allow it. But if he had a new distraction, he might forget her all together.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.”
“And, if she were to get scared enough, she might just sell the shop and go back to wherever she came from.”
“And this is where you come in?” London questioned.
“Exactly. I’ve been his shoulder to cry on for years now. I know he thinks this girl is his one true love or something, fucking please! I know when to shut my mouth and when to look the other way. As long as he keeps me in a nice house, with a steady flow of cash, then he can have as many girls on the side as he wants. Hell, he could keep Marissa for all I care.”
“Maybe you could bed him together.” London chuckled.
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Miranda responded, her words full of truth.
“So, what’s the plan?”
“Well, Ari has done the hard part by removing herself from the equation. I plant a little something in his drink. I still have a friend who works for a baby doctor. I can get those pills to make you ready to have a baby. I take them, we have sex while he’s sedated, and bam, nine months later I give him the heir to the throne.”
“What if he denies the baby?”
“Do you really think Sophia or Antonio would let that happen? London, listen to me, the second the heir to the Santos family is born, the doe-eyed, flower child will be history, and I will be the mother-fucking-queen of the world.”
“You have a point.”
“And I know just the place to do it.”
My mind was in a whirlwind. Dominick thought of me as his love? How the fuck did he do that? He had sent me a warning to keep my mouth shut. As confusing as what I’d heard, was the realization that if this Miranda and London succeeded in what they had planned, it would take me out of the equation. This was my chance to get out of this. To be free of the situation I had unintentionally landed in. I could sell the shop and move to another country this time. A whispered voice beside me turned me away from the conversation.
“Sophia, it’s Gabby. I have to talk to you about Dominick. The bitch is up to something.” She looked at me and then continued to talk. “No, Ari heard everything,.”
I couldn’t believe Gabby had called Sophia. This would cause a huge obstacle in their plans, plans that could benefit me in the end.
“Come on, Ari, Sophia wants us to meet her at the office downtown.” She was already drying her feet off and chugging the last of her wine from her glass.
“Wait… what?” I whisper-shouted.
“Listen, Ari, I’ve told you Sophia is like a mother to me. She gave me a chance when my own parents didn’t want me. Dominick is like my brother, so I’ll be damned if I let someone as vicious as Miranda Martucci hurt him.”
I didn’t have time to argue as she pulled me out of the chair and out the door, tossing money on the counter and instructing the redhead to keep the change.
Gabby drove like a bat out of hell, weaving in and out of traffic. I held on as she nearly missed several cars, and even a large truck, before pulling into a narrow driveway and hitting the brakes. I wasn’t able to take in my surroundings, from the dizziness her erratic driving caused and due to Gabby pulling me up the massive steps, taking them two at a time, until we reached a heavy metal sliding door, where two men in suits stood on each side.
The man on the left reminded me of the professional wrestler who had become an actor, bald head and blackout shades wrapped up the celebrity look alike package. Dude on the left, a slightly smaller build, by maybe an ounce or two, jet black hair and a tan which had to have come from repeated visits to the corner tanning bed. His face was free of the shades his friend wore, but the deep blue of his eyes reminded me of the icy north and breath mint commercials.
“Hey, Emilio, Sophia is—”
The blue-eyed human wall held up his hand, interrupting her. “Everyone is waiting for youse two.”
The condition of the building reminded me somewhat of a property that had been burned down, and I questioned how the brick and mortar held up against the extreme temperature changes of New York. Garrisons Bath House was written in faded white against the dark, aged brick of the building. The arch work of the entry was chipped from years of standing against the elements. How proud the creator would have been to know the building still stood; according to the numbers casted above the arch, over one hundred years had passed.
“Come on, they’re waiting.”
I suspected the solid metal door wasn’t original, which made sense given the type of people who waited on the other side of the massive barrier. Once inside, like a thunderstorm announcing its arrival, the door was pulled closed behind us. The mechanical sounds of several bolts locking into place echoed behind us as we walked down a long hallway to a smaller door at the end. A single light bulb swung while spotlighting a circle of light onto the floor. I felt like prison guards should be following me shouting, “Dead woman walking,” and leading me to a chair, which would drain all the life from my body.
Gabby was humming as she pulled open the door, like this was a trip to an ice cream store or a pet shop. The reality, as the second door closed, was like walking into another world. The faded signage from years ago now made sense as the room opened up to a dome-like expansion. Marble walls, beautified with age, keeping their secrets of times long past, about people who’d walked these halls, some finding love while others lost it all. Glass panels in various colors brightened by the sun’s rays shining through their kaleidoscope patterns, lit up the room. A statue of a woman, a Greek goddess, was center stage in the room. Mythology never being an interest to me, I failed to know her name. Water danced around her, lights below the surface setting the stage for the liquid to travel to its resting place, a large pool in the floor. Tiny bubbles played gently along the edges as the lights sent their beams dancing off the bottom. It was hard to believe all this was hidden behind the decaying exterior and intimidating guards.
What I assumed to be a television played in the next room, laughter sounding like a game show. The next room was just as ornate as the entry, with white columns guarding the large doorframe. Gabby led me around the statue to where we found Sophia and Dominick sitting on a sofa. Gone was the ornate character of the foyer, now replaced with polished wood and modern gadgets, including the flat screen, which covered the entire wall before me.
>
Sophia stood, dressed to the nines as usual; however, Dominick seems to be a different person, in jeans, a long sleeved t-shirt, and barefoot. The change in venue is more than location; he is relaxed, not on edge and ready to pounce. Dominick’s eyes find me and he rises and crosses the room, but sidesteps me at the last moment. Instead, he steps over to kiss Gabby’s cheek, whispering something in her ear. Capturing his face in her palm, they exchange a look; one filled with what I can guess is hope and reassurance. She leans forward and returns the whisper before turning from him and joining Sophia on the leather sofa. Dominick takes the two remaining steps to be close enough that I can smell his cologne, masculine and clean, grabbing the attention of my senses and the wanton woman who lives inside all of us. He takes my hand in his and leans over to plant a kiss to my cheek. This is a first. He always kissed Sophia and Gabby, but never me. I knew this action was a cultural way of greeting each other, but this was new to me, and I wasn’t Italian.
“I’m glad you’re here, Tesoro. It’s time we had a talk.”
I cannot say for certain what surprises me more, the tone in his voice, the word he chose, or the gasp, which comes from Sophia.
GABBY JOINED MY MOTHER ON the sofa, her cell phone already out. Marco had been called as soon as I heard London was involved. Demetri had been with me when I got the call. He was giving me shit for my lack of involvement since the Anthony incident. The truth of the matter was, even if Ari hadn’t known of my feelings, I still couldn’t bring myself to participate like I once had. Hell, even my libido was suffering. Demetri took Gabby’s phone and in two quick seconds, the video she had recorded was playing for everyone to watch.
While the drama played across the screen, I lead Ari by the hand I was still holding to the other sofa across the room. I made Demetri replay the recording, listening as Miranda informed Ari of my feelings.
Even with all the men I had killed, and the crimes I had committed, this was the one thing I regretted. It should have been me; I should have been the one to tell her how I felt. I should have taken the balls I protest to have and used them to be honest, letting her know where I stood. Instead, she had to find out from a high school dropout, drug dealing, confused about her sexuality, gold digging whore like Miranda. I had confided in and trusted the wrong people. A mistake I would not make again. Miranda would be dealt with. She, like Anthony, had attempted to harm an Untouchable.
Stolen Secrets Page 18
