by K. D Clark
He leaned back in his chair. “I get it now.”
“Get what?”
“You think you’re better than us.”
She opened her mouth to say something but then shut it again as she tried to choose her words carefully. “I don’t kill people for a living.”
He shrugged his shoulder. “Killing is such a small part of it.”
She scoffed at the way he’d said it so casually. Like it didn’t bother him at all to take someone else’s life. As if it was just part of the job.
“We’re cut from the same cloth, Dolcezza”
“No the fuck we’re not,” she snapped before she could stop herself. “People get a choice in what they choose to do with their lives. You choose to be the man you are and I choose to live in the real world. A world where people don’t rule with intimidation and fear.”
His eyes narrowed on her, turning dark, and she knew she’d gone too far.
“Don’t get too comfortable here. The only reason I’ve allowed you to stay in my home is because of an obligation I feel to your father. You live the life you live because your father chooses to let you have that freedom. He has allowed you to look down at the people who make your life so comfortable. Money doesn’t grow on trees and as much as you want to be independent, that Lexus wasn’t bought with your salary.”
They stared each other down. She tried not to allow his words to sink too far in because to a certain extent he was right. He pushed off the table and threw the apple core in the trash.
“Get dressed, we’re leaving in an hour.”
He walked down the hall and closed the door to his bedroom. She sat at the table for a moment frozen by his words. She didn’t like the fact that she was being bossed around but she was also scared that she might have gone too far. Wes’ warning played in her head on repeat as she got up from the table and went to her bedroom to get ready for the night.
When she emerged from the bedroom about 45 minutes later she was dressed in a pair of ripped jeans and a low cut shirt. She’d picked out a pair of sparkly heels to offset the casual look and had pulled her hair up into a high ponytail. Giovanni was leaning against the counter with the phone pressed against his ear. He nodded as he listened to whoever was talking on the other side of the phone. She sat down on the couch and scrolled through her phone as she waited for him to end his call.
“I’ll talk to him,” he said, his voice tight and controlled. He hung up, placing the phone in the pocket of his suit pants, and turned to face her. He tilted his head towards the door and she followed him outside to his car. She said nothing the entire drive through the dark streets of the city. The city was live tonight as people lined up at various bars but no line was longer than the one at Gio’s club. He pulled around back and shut off the car.
“Don’t run off,” he said.
She rolled her eyes as if she had anywhere to run anymore. It's not like she could go home where all her things had been destroyed.
“Say it,” he said when she didn’t respond.
“I’m not going to fucking run.”
His mouth twitched as if he wanted to smile but he got out of the car and she followed behind him. As soon as he opened the back door, the sound of loud music filled her ears. She stepped inside the small space with stairs similar to that of a fire escape. She was facing another door that had to lead out to a dance floor. Gio went up the stairs, probably expecting her to follow, but instead, she walked through the door to the dance floor. As she expected, the place was filled with people. A big round bar was in the middle of the dance floor lit up with neon lights along the top. It was the only thing giving off any light on the floor. She needed a drink after the week she had. Giovanni could wait if he thought she was going to sit up in his office all night. She pushed through the crowd and walked up to the bar. She lifted her hand, getting the attention of the bartender.
“Hey, gorgeous, what can I get for you?” the female bartender asked her.
“Two shots of tequila,” she said. The women probably assumed she was taking the other one to a friend but they were both for her. She downed both and then ordered a martini. Her body started to heat up from the drinks and her shoulders relaxed a little bit. It was like the entire week of stress and fear was starting to melt from her body. She felt eyes on her and she turned around to see Wes staring at her from a couple of seats down. She waved at him to come over and with a grim expression he got up from the stool and sat down next to her. He was dressed in a suit. His curly hair was starting to get a bit longer so it framed the side of his face.
“Why the face?” she asked.
“Not much luck with finding Liam today,” he said.
Her stomach tightened at his admission. She hated to think he was still out there. Her chest tightened every time she thought about it. She couldn’t wait for this to be over. She signaled for the bartender and ordered two more shots of tequila. When the bartender brought them over she handed one to Wes.
“Let’s forget about that tonight.” She clinked her glass against his and downed the shot. She washed it down with her martini. He hesitated for a minute before drinking his own shot.
“Maybe we should call that the last one?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
She shook her head, letting her hair whip back and forth. “Nope, tonight we’re forgetting about this terrible week.” She started to lift her hand to signal to the bartender again
Wes laughed and slowly lowered her hand back down to the table. “How about you let the last shot kick in before getting another one, huh?”
She pouted her lips which only made him smile.
“Dance with me,” he said.
She agreed and allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor. She became more confident as the alcohol started to make her cheeks flush. Wes grabbed her hips, and she ground against him. She was happy for the darkness of the club so that no one could see her and she could barely see anyone else. It was like she and Wes were in their own little bubble as she rubbed her body against his to the beat of the song.
Wes
His phone vibrated in the pocket of his suit pants. He pulled it out to see a text from Gio.
Take her home
He looked up at the floor above him. He couldn’t see anything but he knew Gio was watching them from the third floor. He didn’t text him back. He knew Gio would tell him what was going on later.
“I think it’s time to go home,” he whispered in her ear.
She leaned her head back, letting it fall against his shoulder. “Mhmm.”
Her eyes fluttered shut, letting him know she’d had too much to drink. He wrapped his hands around her waist and steered her towards the back door. The club was packed at this point, making it difficult for them to move, plus Avé was leaning almost all of her body weight on him.
“You tryin’ sweep me…away,” she mumbled.
He ignored her and walked out of the back door to where his car was parked. He opened the passenger door and waited for her to get inside before closing the door and rounding the car to get in on the driver’s side.
“Don’t take me home,” she said, almost too quietly for him to hear.
He turned to look at her. Her eyes were shut and her head was laid against the cool window.
“Why would I take you home?” he asked her.
She didn’t answer and after a moment he started the car. By the time he turned onto the street, she was snoring. He shook his head He knew he should have told her to stop drinking. She was more of a lightweight than he’d thought. He pulled into Gio’s driveway, parked in front of the porch steps then looked next to him. Avé had slid down in the seat a bit and her hair was wild and pressed against the window. Despite her odd position she looked peaceful. He rounded the car and opened the passenger door slowly so that she wouldn’t fall out. He quickly grabbed her before she could hit the concrete and lifted her out of the car. He held her in his arms bridal style, using his foot to shut the car door. Her eyes fluttere
d opened at the sound of the door closing. She smiled at him and his heart jumped into his throat.
“Hey, Prince Charming,” she cooed.
He chuckled. “I think I need to get you to bed.”
She wiggled her eyebrows, and he laughed. He carried her up the porch steps and into the house. It was a bit difficult to grab his key and unlock the door without setting Avé down on her feet but he wasn’t totally confident that she would be able to stand. Once he was inside, he went straight to the guest bedroom and dropped her down on the bed. She laughed as her body bounced against the mattress. He turned to grab her some clothes out of the drawer but she grabbed his hand.
“Don’t leave,” she said, her wide eyes staring into his.
He hid his shocked expression. “Why not?” he asked.
She let his hand go and started taking off her clothes.
“Because he’s out there,” she said her voice full of emotion. More emotion than he’d ever heard out of her. It was something he’d been begging for. To have her open up to him and let him in but it felt wrong considering that she probably wouldn’t remember this in the morning. She finished taking off her clothes until she was just in her bra and panties. She pulled back the covers and snuggled underneath.
“I don’t want to die,” she admitted, her makeup now smeared from her struggle to get her clothes off and the tears running down her cheeks.
He kicked off his shoes and got under the covers behind her. She turned to face him. The heat coming off her body warmed him. She wouldn’t look up at his face, her eyes instead staying focused on his chest.
“No one is going to kill you, Avé, at least not while I’m alive,” he said.
She wiped at her face but didn’t respond. After a moment he thought she’d fallen back asleep.
“Do you love me, Wes?” she asked.
He didn’t hesitate when he answered. “Yea, Avé, I do.”
He was a man in love with a woman who wasn’t ready to love him back or didn’t know how to. She nodded her head. A few minutes later, her breathing evened out and he knew she’d fallen asleep. It hadn’t taken much for him to fall in love with her. He didn’t know when it had happened but he knew it might still be a while until she was ready for that. They were in different places in their lives and she couldn’t see past what he did for a living. He knew she didn’t want to get involved with anyone associated but it was a little too late for that. Whether she realized it or not she was already involved. Life never worked out the way you planned for it to but she was too busy resisting to realize the people and opportunities right in front of her.
The sound of the front door closing brought him out of his thought. He unraveled himself from her body and creeped out of the bedroom to the living room. He placed his hand on the gun at his back just in case. When he rounded the corner, Giovanni was pulling off his suit jacket and tossing it onto the couch.
“She asleep?” he asked as he removed his watch and set it down on the coffee table before plopping on the couch.
“Yea, what happened?” Wes said, moving across the floor to sit in the chair opposite Giovanni. Wes waited as Gio rolled a blunt.
“That guy has some fucking guts,” he grunted out, flicking the lighter and moving the flame up and down the wet casing.
“He showed up tonight?”
“Not tonight. I was looking back through the camera feed. He was at the club the night before sniffing around the back lot. He didn’t plant anything but he must have found out we have her.”
Wes hung his head. “Fuck.”
Although he’d known it was only a matter of time before Liam found out that they had her he’d been hoping that he’d find him first. Liam knowing where she was backed them into a corner. Especially when they still had no idea where he was.
“He’s got balls,” Wes agreed.
“Yea until I cut them off,” Giovanni said, balling his hands into a fist.
Wes raised an eyebrow. “You going to kill him?”
Gio’s eyes darkened as he narrowed them at Wes, letting him know his answer.
“You know what that would mean right?”
Gio scoffed and lit the blunt. “The Irish aren’t stupid and from my understanding, Liam wasn’t being primed to take over anyways.”
“Oh, yea?” Wes’ ears perked up at that. Although the Irish and Cosa Nostra were different there were things that were the same. Such as most bosses groomed their sons to take over when the time came. Liam was the oldest son which meant everyone was under the assumption that he’d take over when Niall’s time was up.
“Liam doesn’t know that. So he thinks he can get away with doing stupid shit like this. You think any of us want the kind of attention he’s bringing?”
Giovanni took a hit of the blunt, his arms resting on his knees.
“How do you know all of this?” Wes asked.
Giovanni’s eyes flashed to him before focusing back on the coffee table. Gio knew everything that happened in New York and he wouldn't be surprised if he’d had a rat planted.
“You got any leads on him?” Gio asked, ignoring Wes’ question.
Wes shook his head. “Nothing useful.”
Wes was surprised that Gio was putting so much of his energy into this. He constantly had things on his plate so the fact that he was dedicating so much time wasn’t lost on him. They sat in silence for a while, both seemingly lost in their own thoughts. He wanted to find Liam and get this over with but in the back of his mind, he wondered what would happen afterward. She’d go back to pushing him away and he’d stay around like a lost puppy dog just waiting for the opportunity.
“Is she your girl?” Giovanni asked, his eyes focused on him.
He knew what Gio was asking and it only served to piss him off. Could he stake a claim on her if she didn’t feel the same way about him as he did about her? That wasn’t fair to her. He shook his head. Giovanni nodded in understanding. Although Wes doubted Gio could ever truly understand. Gio wasn’t one to stake claim on any girl. If he thought about it, the last time Wes had seen him with a girl was back in high school. Not to say he wasn’t hooking up with anyone but it wasn’t anyone worth introducing. With the life he lived, though, it was best to keep those things secret. If someone found your weak spot it was only a matter of time before they capitalized on it.
Giovanni
He didn’t go back to the club that night, instead deciding to stay at the house to work. His Manhattan capo had gotten picked up and was looking at an 18-year sentence. He needed someone to fill in for him. He picked up his phone from the coffee table and called Lucas. It was five in the morning but he’d answer his call, he had to. He didn’t have a choice when the boss was calling.
“Boss,” Lucas answered, his voice not sounding tired at all. If he had to guess, Lucas had probably been up since last night just as Gio.
“I need you in New York today, we gotta talk about Manhattan.”
Lucas was a good capo. He’d lost his head a while back when a good friend of his had been killed but Lucas had been in the game since the beginning, much like himself.
“I’ll be heading that way in a couple hours,” Lucas said.
“Alright, see you then.”
He hung up and dropped his phone back on the table next to the piles of paperwork. They were numbers for the club and his way to ensure that taxes were being paid and the right money was being cleaned. The news and popular culture tried to peg the mafia as street thugs but they were so much more than that. The mob had come a long way from petty street crimes and killings. It was a business, which meant he had to make sure it looked like that on paper. He had an accountant that took care of most of it but it was his job to know what was going on. He’d seen men get caught up because they simply couldn’t see what was going on with their money right under their noses. A door creaked open and the sound of bare feet slapped against the marble floors. He turned his head to see Avé dressed in a t-shirt and red panties. His dick hardened at th
e sight, imagining what it would be like for her to be wearing his shirt. When it came to her he had a sense of possessiveness that came out. It didn’t make any sense because Wes was obviously in love with her. Her hair was a mess and she rubbed her eyes as she walked into the kitchen and grabbed a cup from the cabinet. She hadn’t noticed him yet. He was sitting in the dark except for the small lamp next to the couch. She filled the cup with water and chugged it down before filling it a second time and starting to walk back to the bedroom.
“Rough night?” he asked.
She jumped an inch off the ground. The water in her cup sloshed over the side and left a puddle on the floor. She slapped a hand to her chest.
“Fuck. You scared me,” she complained, grabbing at her forehead as if the jump had given her a headache.
“Come sit,” he said, tilting his head towards the couch.
She only hesitated for a moment before coming to sit down next to him. She placed the cup on the coffee table and leaned her head back on the cushion. The first night she’d come into his office he thought she’d been terrified of him much like everyone else was but he’d soon realized that wasn’t it at all. She’d been terrified of that pathetic excuse for a man. In reality, she didn’t have a problem telling him exactly what she was thinking. It was a change of pace for a man like Giovanni. He was used to people telling him what he wanted to hear and him getting his ways just by intimidation. He could see that she did what he asked because she was supposed to be scared of him not because she actually was. That made her more dangerous than any of the men he had to deal with on a daily basis. She also technically wasn’t a member of Cosa Nostra so she had no obligation to respect him.
“Do you always drink this much?” he asked. If she did he should know now. It was dangerous and risky for a woman to drink so much, especially if they didn’t have people like himself or Wes looking after her.
She opened one eye and glared at him. “No, I don’t. Not that it’s any of your business.”
He held back his smirk. “You know I’ve killed men for saying less.”
