by Ethan Egorov
The pair got out of the car, and Trent felt below his waistband again, comforted by the fact that his Colt was still present. Tommy took care to lock the car and Trent double-checked to ensure the trunk was locked.
Of course, they didn’t plan on having a full-blown firefight at the restaurant, but their cache of weapons was a safety net just in case. After the last forty-eight hours or so, Trent wasn’t willing to believe anything was out of the realm of possibility. It was as if his entire mental model for the world and his family’s dynamics had gotten flipped on their head.
A well-dressed maître d greeted them as they walked into the restaurant. He looked at Tommy, smiled at him, and nodded. He looked at Trent still dressed in his jeans, dirty t-shirt, and leather jacket and scoffed. Trent ignored him, having no time for obnoxious pleasantries.
“Um, how can I help you, gentlemen?”
“We’re not here to get a table,” Tommy said, getting right to the point. “I need to see if my father has checked in or has dined here tonight.”
Trenton scanned the restaurant. It was dimly lit and the type of place where engagements and proposals took place. It was posh, but only for the sake of being posh. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought it a front for some unscrupulous activities as well.
“Oh, hey, Trent!” Tommy said, brushing past the host. “Dad’s here. He’s got a table in the back.”
The pair walked past the host to the back of the restaurant where their father was sitting. He appeared to be quite content, even serene. He was looking through messages on his cell phone, but unlike earlier in the day, he looked on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Here, his face betrayed no emotion, he gave off relaxed energy, and he even smiled just before he looked up at them.
Which, naturally, meant that when he looked up, he was startled when they approached the table and sat down beside him.
Guess we’re the stressors for him, huh?
“Dad!” Trent said, not hiding his relief. “Thank God you’re here! What are you doing?”
His father looked between Trent and Tommy in confusion, as if he had just been ambushed on a studio set he didn’t know he was on.
“I’m . . . having dinner. What does it look like?” he said, confused as to why this should be cause for alarm. “I decided to go out for once. Thought I was going to get some peace and quiet, but . . . well, I guess I can say I did for a spell at least. Since you’re here, go ahead and sit down. My steak’s about to come out.”
He is way too calm for the situation. We have to explain this.
“Dad, we’ve got some bad news,” Trent said. “While you were out, someone broke into the house. It looks like they were looking for something, or even maybe looking for you. I think you’re in danger, and we need to go. Now.”
But to Trent’s horror, his Dad seemed unflustered and even unconcerned. Maybe he’d had some alcohol or something else to ease his nerves, or maybe he had just mentally detached so much from the situation that he wasn’t worried. Either way, he definitely didn’t seem bothered by what had happened.
“Look around you,” he said with a small smile. “This is a public place, it’s a gorgeous evening out, and I don’t really feel as if I’m in danger. Besides, if anyone were trying to murder me, the tainted wine would have already left me half dead and gasping for air under the table. You two boys need to calm down already. Sit down with your father and have a nice meal. We’ll talk about all of this nonsense.”
It was true that the amount of public murder that happened in the last few years was a drastic departure from the feud’s history. Social media, public outcry, and a stronger police force ensured that such crime didn’t broach the public’s consciousness as often.
But it was also very true that the last couple of days had thrown a lot of those norms out the window, and it was very plausible that this was the start of a new era in which social norms and respect for the public went right out the window as well.
How the hell is he so calm? Something’s still amiss. I know he’s gotten better at avoiding paranoia compared to me, but these are real things that have happened.
Their father signaled the waiter, who scowled at Trent before taking their orders. He even made a special recommendation to the kitchen to put a rush on the order so their food would come out together. It was all appreciated, but it felt to Trent like his father was simply dancing around the issue. Trent worried his father was on some sort of drugs or under the influence of alcohol, avoided ordering any booze.
“Hey, what’s wrong, kid?” Antonio said when Trent didn’t order any drinks. “You sick or something? You forget the Jack part in your Jack and Coke.”
Trent sighed. At least his father wasn’t faking being calm. He really did seem that way. Perhaps he could have learned a thing or two.
“Oh . . . I just have a headache. That’s all, Dad. It’s been a long evening.”
“A long evening?” Antonio said. “You did say you had other things to take care of. What is going on?”
“Trent,” Tommy said. “Tell him about the hotel and what started all this mess.”
“What? What’s this? What mess?”
Is he actually going to listen to something about this now?
“You boys . . . I swear, you’re going to put me in an early grave,” Antonio said with a laugh. “A man can’t even go out to dinner by himself without something putting a damper on his evening. What the fuck is Tommy talking about? What hotel?”
“I . . .”
Just say it.
“I went to see Kristina. She had a client that was meeting her there. Well, let’s just say I ended up dodging bullets on my way out.”
“That’s the story, is it?” Antonio said with a smile, looking past Trent’s shoulder. “Maybe I can hear the complementary side of it.”
And then, just when the evening seemed like it couldn’t get any weirder, an unexpected guest showed up.
Kristina
Kristina appeared at the table wearing a white dress with a crème-colored shawl draped across her shoulders. Her red hair glowed in the dim light and, upon seeing her, both Antonio’s and Tommy’s faces lit up.
Just as I expected. I’m still family to the Salvatores.
And as for Trent . . . well, let’s just play nice for now.
“Kristina!” Antonio said, rising out of his chair. “Oh my, Bella! It’s been so long since I’ve seen you! You are a vision. Give your old man a hug.”
She crouched down and gave Trent’s father a tight hug, then turned and did the same to Tommy. Trent looked like he could scarcely believe what he was seeing. To be fair, given what had transpired only a couple hours before, Kristina supposed that he had a good reason for being utterly baffled.
“Did I just hear you boys talking about me?” Kristina said, reminding herself to adopt her playful, relaxed demeanor for Mr. Salvatore tonight. “I suppose I am fashionably late as always. I didn’t know you two goons would be here. I was just expecting Antonio.”
“You should sit down,” Trent said. “I was just getting ready to tell him about our adventure this evening.”
Kristina tried not to look straight at Trent, but she had to admit that his shock wasn’t unjustified. The last time she saw him, he was watching her go up an elevator toward a hotel room that had just seen bullets fly. Why would she have done that?
It was not a factual statement to say Kristina had expected gunfire. In fact, she had intended as soon as she met her client later that evening to ask them why the hell there was gunfire. Kristina was willing to put herself through a lot to finish a job, but acting as a magnet for a target to get shot at was not one of them.
Unfortunately for her, the intent was never going to match the reality, because as soon as she got back to the hotel, she received a text from a new number, though clearly from the same client, stating the job had been canceled. There was no further explanation, no apology, nothing. Kristina had partaken in nothing more than a wild goose
chase to try and get Trent Salvatore into a hotel room, apparently for a hit.
She admittedly felt mighty stupid when that happened. A part of her worried she’d been trolled by the Mikkelsons, but she still had reason to believe it wasn’t them. For starters, the Mikkelsons would have wanted her dead even more than Trent, and even if they didn’t want her dead, they wouldn’t have wanted Trent dead. They might have wanted everyone else in the Salvatore family dead, but they would not have wanted to kill Trent.
She had, up to that point, believed that maybe someone from the family had tried to do this as a sort of intervention for something. Maybe she was meant to be the symbol that Trent needed to get over and move past. Fucking shooting at him across the street on the top floor of a hotel, though, seemed a little extreme, even for that.
The best she could surmise with everything having gone down was that someone in the family or connected to the family had either grown jealous of Trent, for whatever reason or had simply developed enough animosity toward him that they decided to kill him using the person who could most control him— her. They had set it up pretty well, but when Trent showcased actual skills in dodging a poor shot, they panicked, canceled the plan, and ended it there.
But that still left Kristina reeling and feeling a bit embarrassed. She knew as soon as she left Trent, the rest of the Salvatores were going to find out she was in town. If they discovered that she never said hello to them, let alone took a job that nearly resulted in the death of one of the sons, she would never hear the end of it. She might even risk getting excluded from the family.
So she decided to reach out to Antonio Salvatore after everything went down, offering to meet him for dinner and catch-up. She definitely did not expect Trent and Tommy to be there, but judging by the look on Antonio’s face, he didn’t expect them to appear either. Rather than allowing herself to get flustered, Kristina decided to treat it as just another family get-together, her getting to hang with many of the Salvatore boys, rather than as a surprise confrontation of sorts.
That was the idea, at least. It was impossible to say if Trent would remain that way the whole night. The issue wasn’t if he would do so here at the table, but . . .
“Well, we did have a bit of a mix-up at the hotel earlier this evening, but it’s all, as they say, copacetic now,” Kristina said.
She smiled. Tommy and Antonio smiled. Trent shook his head, apparently having no interest in being subtle.
“So, what’s this job you’re on?” he said, sounding as accusatory yet as distanced as possible.
Just tell the truth. No reason to lie about it, especially since Antonio and Tommy probably already know you were here for a job.
“Apparently, I don’t have one anymore.”
The surprise on Trent’s face was obvious and immediate. Kristina had to continuously remind herself to stay calm and composed and to act as if this was all not a big deal.
“My client canceled on me, so I’ll be going to the airport . . . in a couple hours, actually. Fortunately, I do have another job awaiting me. This time I’ll be going overseas. I hear New Zealand is nice this time of year, though.”
“Wow. Kristina, the jet setter,” Antonio said proudly.
This was more in line with what Kristina hoped for. And she wasn’t lying about going to New Zealand. Still, she could see her statements had only further piqued Trent’s curiosity, and she was bound to have to do some further explanation later.
“Oh my, Bella,” Antonio continued. “Even though I do frown upon you being in the family business, I am proud to see you so independent. You’re not letting some shmuck run your life, so I will happily toast to that.”
Yeah . . . something like that.
A brief glance at Trent suggested that he noticed something was a little off with her reaction to Antonio. She ignored it as best as she could.
“Hey, Antonio, I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to visit with Pop. How is he, anyway?”
“Oh, you know how he is. He’s as cantankerous as ever. He likes the facility we showed him, but he’s going to raise hell to the very end about leaving the house. He sends his love, of course. I told him you were coming in for a visit, but he could not make it this evening, unfortunately.”
“I appreciate the effort all the same,” Kristina said. “Give him my regards and tell him I love him. I know the year has been tough on both of you that way.”
Kristina looked at the table as everyone broke into a conversation about Pop. Trent never quite took his eyes off her, though he tried to keep it subtle so he wouldn’t seem like he was gawking at her. The looks were having the effect that Kristina was really hoping not to have.
They were making her crave his presence again. They were making her desire to be alone with him, even though every part of her knew that getting close to him was a terrible idea. Sometimes, she wondered if she was the only person who was crazy enough to try and get a man like Trent back. Not that Trent was a bad man, but they’d had so much history and so much drama, it just didn’t make sense.
“Would you excuse me for a few minutes?” Kristina said, finally deciding she needed to give in to her urges. “I’m going to go to the ladies’ room.”
Kristina hopped up from the table and left her napkin on the chair, awaiting her return.
“You know what, Dad?” Kristina overheard Trent say as she moved slowly to the restroom. “I think I’ll go ahead and make a trip to the bathroom too. My head’s feeling much better. I just want to freshen up a bit before dessert.”
“Understood. On your way back through, stop by the bar and get yourself a drink if you want. I may go ahead and order a nightcap.”
“Sounds good, Dad.”
Kristina smiled. She knew she had to play the part of a surprised woman when she left the bathroom, but—
Just as she entered the bathroom, she received an unexpected phone call.
“Hello?”
“Kristina?”
The voice on the other end of the line was scrambled. It was her client, most likely, but they had gone to great lengths to sound like Darth Vader.
“You are not to leave tonight,” the voice said. “You are to remain. We have a new task for you involving Trent.”
Briefly, Kristina considered the possibility of taking the job. It would be nice to have him back in the fold.
But then she realized that “back in the fold” might be a short-term dopamine boost, and it would be long-term heartache and trouble. In any case, even if Trent was nothing more than a casual acquaintance and a friend, the last job had ended with the two of them being shot at.
“No, thank you,” Kristina said. “You canceled the last job. I am free of my—”
“You will take this job!” the voice snapped suddenly. “Do not fuck with me. You will take this job, understand? There will be an envelope waiting for you in the hotel room. We will take you to a new location—”
“That’s it, I’m out,” Kristina said. “Have fun here. I’m going far, far away, and never talking to you again.”
“You stupid bi—”
The voice on the other end of the line never got to finish, because Kristina hung up before they could finish insulting her. Though a little flustered and frustrated, Kristina knew immediately that she had made the right choice. No matter what happened between her and Trent, she didn’t need to put him in the way of a bullet. He could use a good smack in the cheek from time to time, but that was a far cry from actually killing him.
She looked in the mirror at herself and saw a frazzled, confused woman who had put herself through so much unnecessary trouble on the last day. And for what? A couple million bucks that she didn’t really need?
Kristina knew right then that when she got to New Zealand, as soon as she finished her job, she was going to take a couple weeks off to recharge. Maybe she’d do it alone, maybe she’d meet some man there, or maybe, if she was feeling especially weak, she’d reach out and get one of the Salvatores to come. But there was
no maybe about the need for a vacation.
She collected herself, sighed, and left the bathroom only to find Trent waiting for her right outside. As she opened the door, they stood face to face, her eyes opened wide in shock.
So much for pretending to be surprised. I am really surprised. Completely forgot he was going to be following me!
“Oh, my God! Fuck! Trent! You scared me to death. What the hell are you doing?”
Trent backed her against the wall in the hallway, placing both hands on her shoulders. The time for games and dancing around subjects was apparently over. Like she had dragged Trent to the hotel room earlier, he was pushing her to do something here.
“What’s going on, Kristina? It’s time you told me the truth because I’m not falling for this story about you having another job. Why are you avoiding us? You’ve been in town all this time, and you’ve yet to come to the mansion. Is there a reason?”
“Trent, I told you earlier,” she said, exasperated that she kept having to have this conversation. “I have, well, had a job in town. That job’s over now, so I’ll be moving on to another one. How hard is that to understand?”
Very hard when you corner me like this.
Never have I been so certain about the need for a vacation than right now.
“So, what was with the gunfire in the hotel?” Trent said. “I think it’s awfully funny that the mansion was broken into this evening as well.”
Kristina began to really fear that he thought she was the guilty party. She didn’t know how to combat such an accusation. She was one of the friendliest people of all toward the Salvatores, and she could never envision herself hurting them. She would sooner retreat from the States and move to New Zealand permanently than do anything that would actually cause trouble for the family.
“I don’t understand, Trent. Why are you so hostile toward me all of a sudden?” Kristina said pleadingly. “I swear, Trent, I don’t know anything about the mansion getting broken into or the gunfire. I’m just assuming that someone who has bad blood with you shot at us at the hotel. There’s really no other excuse or explanation I can give you. In fact, I’d be lying to you if I did.”
