Wrath (Part I): A Mafia Romance (Esposito Series Book 1)

by Fariah Zaidi

  I did not pay much attention to what he said afterwards. My mind was solely fixed on the metal object placed on the table in front of me. What was so important that my father put in a safe deposit box?

  Chapter 2: Letter

  Zara

  I drove through the New York traffic like a maniac, maneuvering between the honking cars, angry cab drivers and busy pedestrians.

  The moment I reached home, I kicked off my boots and made my way towards the living room. Throwing my coat haphazardly on the couch, I sat down, rummaging through my oversized bag to take out the box and the key which Derek had given me.

  The box opened with a rusty creak, displaying its contents. There were three bundles of hundred dollar bills neatly stacked together, a long silver chain with a key attached at the end and a white envelope. I gingerly picked up the last item and took out the sheet of paper inside:

  Dear Zara,

  If you are reading this letter, then your mother and I are probably no longer with you. I am so sorry for not being there for you. But sweetheart, some things are just out of our hands.

  Zara, we were not your real parents. Before you think of anything else, you have to know that even though you weren’t our blood, we loved you like our very own daughter. You were handed over to us as a responsibility, but we fell in love with you. As normal as we appeared to be, we never actually were. We belong in a world that is completely different from the world you currently live in. It is dark and dangerous. You were just a newborn, innocent and unaware of the evils that resided around you. But fate has its own way. And you have the right to know who you are, where you are from and where you belong.

  You must have seen a key inside the box. I want you to take it and go to the basement. The door that it opens lies behind the shelf that holds your favorite childhood doll. You will figure out from there on, you’re a smart girl.

  I know this must be a lot to take in. And believe me, it’s very hard writing this letter to you, knowing that by the time you read this, I won’t be there by your side. But remember, you have to be strong. You will face a lot of hardships, but you will always come out stronger. I have all the faith in you.

  And no matter what happens, whatever truth is revealed to you along the way, you have to remember, that your mother and I loved you very much. Blood may not be what makes us a family, but you will always be my beautiful daughter. All you have to know is, no matter where you are, we will always be watching over you, always by your side.

  I love you, honey. Always and forever.

  Dad

  By the time I finished reading the letter, I was a sobbing mess. My vision was blurred from the tears and my throat had closed up.

  I don’t know how long I cried, but by the time my hiccups died, I no longer had the will to live. My heart ached as I thought of my parents, what a perfect, happy family we were. God, I missed them so much.

  When I had finally calmed down, I got up and went straight to the bathroom to splash some water on my face, following which I made myself a huge cup of coffee. As I sat back down on the couch, sipping from my mug, my eyes landed on the key in front of me. And then there was this sudden urge to find out what this was all about.

  The next thing I know, I was putting my coat and boots back on, ready to leave the house again.

  When my eyes landed on the letter, I picked it up, wondering what to do with it. Even though these were my father’s last words to me, something compelled me to destroy it. If he was intent on keeping something this much a secret, I was not going to leave anything to chance.

  So I took it to my kitchen and lit it over the stove, watching as the flames hungrily devoured the paper, leaving ash in its wake.

  My eye caught my small army knife on the counter and I quickly picked it and shoved it in my bra, mentally scolding myself for forgetting it the last time I left the house.

  Locking the front door on my way out, I sat in my car, my father’s key safely tucked in my coat pocket and my destination clear in my mind.

  Avoiding as much traffic as I could, I finally reached my old neighborhood. As the car sidled up to the curb in front of my old house, I killed the engine and just sat there, taking in my old home, where I grew up, the house that held countless memories of my childhood.

  It made me ruefully wonder yet again- Had it all been a lie?

  My eyes wandered over the property, taking in the front lawn, which once was filled with sunflowers and roses, now an infestation of weeds and bugs. Melancholy overtook me as memories flashed through my mind- the happiness, the love and the contentment I had here.

  All that remained now was a hollow structure of a house, the joy and radiance of it long gone, replaced with pain and misery.

  I finally got out of the car and made my way towards the front door, the fallen brown leaves on the drive crunching beneath my boots. The sooner I find out what this is all about, the sooner I can get back to my boring, miserable life.

  “Eh puttana! If boss hadn’t wanted you dead, I would’ve enjoyed much more of you.” he said, kissing my neck.

  The memory hit me like a slap in the face the moment I walked through the front door, those monstrous green eyes haunting me, mocking me. I gasped loudly and my hand went to my chest, trying to soothe away the pain.

  Taking a deep breath, I ran my hand through my hair, desperately trying to focus my attention on the reason why I came here.

  Walking through the hallway and past the living room, which was covered in dust and cobwebs, I made way towards the basement door. I turned on my phone’s flashlight and carefully walked down the stairs.

  As per my father’s letter, the door was behind the shelf that housed my favorite doll.

  The doll in question was one of those plastic ones with big round eyes and blonde hair wearing a pretty, floral dress. I carried it around with me everywhere I went. But one day, my father accidentally stepped on her head, resulting in her face getting dented near the lips.

  My parents were hoarders. I smiled fondly as I looked at all the useless stuff they’d insisted on saving and storing it here- broken clocks, my first bicycle, all the broken vases that my father insisted he would turn brand new with the help of a glue gun, but never go around to actually doing it.

  When I finally found the doll, it was sitting on the shelf placed against the wall at the far end of the room. At once I set to work on pushing the metal shelf aside, panting and gasping against it.

  I stood back and to my utter disappointment, there was nothing there, except for plain white wall and a couple of spiders crawling away. I started roaming my hands all over the wall, hoping that something might pop up.

  And it did.

  A small square in the wall jutted out slightly than the rest of it and I pushed it hard.

  I jumped back in surprise when that part of the wall started moving, letting out a low groan. It shifted all the way towards the left, paving way to another steel door.

  Still reeling from the surprise, I noticed a biometric lock beside it along with a keyhole.

  I reached inside my pocket and took out the key my father had left me, putting it in the keyhole; I pressed my thumb against the neon square and waited. It took a couple of seconds before it flashed to a bright red once, twice and then in bold letter it blinked ‘ACCEPTED’.

  The door let out a soft click and I turned the handle, pushing it open.

  The room that it led to was medium in size and flooded with white light. Steel cupboards were lined up against the walls and in the middle of the room there was a brown desk and a couple of chairs.

  I started from the cupboards on my right, pulling them open. Each one was filled with cash, neatly stacked, one upon the other.

  I moved to the opposite side to do the same. My shocked gasp echoed in the room.

  Weapons.

  Hundreds of them. There were rifles, handguns, shotguns, knives, blades and others I couldn’t even recognize. Some of them hung up and others placed neatly in drawers.


  What the hell was all this? This place existed right underneath my home. How come I never knew about it?

  I marched over to the desk, pulling out the contents of its drawers. File after file was marked with the same seal: Esposito.

  Where had I heard that name before?

  I read through the files, pilfering through the pages- drug deals, kidnappings.

  Was my father involved in all this? What was this, some kind of a gang? Mob?

  All of a sudden, my movements came to an abrupt halt. I strained my ears to confirm what I was hearing.

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  Footsteps.

  The hair on the back of my neck rose in fear. With trembling fingers I put the file down on the table and swiftly made my way out the room, closing the door behind me. I pulled the key from the lock and without bothering to put the shelf back in its place, I started making my way up the basement stairs.

  The moment I stepped into the living room, I froze.

  I came face to face with a man in all black attire and a striped green mask, his lips curled in a venomous smile. But all I could focus on were his eyes.

  His green eyes.

  My blood ran cold.

  “Pleased to see you again, Zara.” he said, his voice chilling me to my very core.

  Fear. That was all I could feel in that moment.

  I flinched when he raised his hand and brought it down on my cheek. The impact of his slap was so hard that I fell in a heap on the floor. Pain erupted on my face and I cried out, raising my eyes to meet his.

  Dreading that he would try to rape me again, I tried to get up and move away from him. My heart was constricting in dread at the sick smile he had on his face.

  With shaky knees and hands I tried to get up, only to be kicked in my stomach. A painful scream left my lips and I curled up, coughing loudly.

  He bent down to my level, resting his elbows on his knees as he forcefully lifted my chin up, “Pity we won’t be able to have any fun today. We have some business to attend to first.”

  Another one of his backhands sent me reeling in pain until I was on the verge of passing out. The moment he threw me in the trunk of his car, I had lost all consciousness.

  And that’s how I found myself running in that dark alley, running away from him and his men, and straight into the arms of the stranger.

  Chapter 3: Questions

  Zara

  I stood there, gawking at the man who had just saved me.

  “Are you just going to stand there, Zara?” he asked me, putting his gun away.

  “How do you know my name?” I whispered, my voice still shaking.

  “I know everything about you.” his words sent a chill down my spine and I took a fearful step backwards.

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  “My name is Stefan Esposito.” he stepped forward, “And I believe you owe me a thanks for saving your life.”

  “I’m not thanking you for anything until you tell me who you are.” I raised my head, trying to keep my voice steady, “And how do you know me?”

  “Let’s just say for now that I am an associate of your adoptive father, Theo.” he said, as if that vague explanation would be the answer to all my queries.

  “What type of associate?” I enquired again. “And how did you know I was adopted?”

  “Zara, I have answers to all of your questions.” he rubbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation, “But right now, we need to leave.”

  He moves forward and raises his hand. Instinctively, both my hands shield my face, afraid of any slap or punch that may come.

  Only, it never does.

  To my surprise, his fingers wrap around my wrist as he pulls my hands away, “You thought I was going to hit you?” his deep voice is now softer.

  Afraid to look up into his eyes, I stare down and mumble, “You wouldn’t be the first one today.”

  His intake of breath is sharp and when I look up I can see his jaw ticking in anger.

  “I don’t hit women, Zara.” he says, his gaze fixed on mine, “No self respecting man raises a hand on a woman.”

  I shiver slightly when those words leave his lips. It starts from his firm hold around my wrist and all the way down my spine.

  “Now,” his voice again resounds in the alley, “we have about two more minutes before more of those men come looking for you. We better leave.”

  He starts walking away with his fingers still wrapped around my wrist.

  But I stay rooted in my spot, “Why should I go with you? How do I know you won’t do the same to me as those men?”

  “Trust me, if I wanted to do something to you, I would have done it already.”

  With those words, he starts to turn around, and spares me a glance over his shoulder, “Now it is your choice. You can either come with me where I can keep you safe, or you can wait for those men to come, who would probably, tie you up in a basement and do things to you which are beyond your worst nightmares.”

  My mouth drops open at his words.

  “Why?” I ask.

  He took a deep, highly annoyed breath and then turned to face me, “Why what?”

  “Why are you helping me?” I ask, “I mean, I don’t know you, and you, in some weird and very creepy way, know me.”

  “As I said before, I knew your father. Keeping you safe right now is sort of a favor he asked me years ago.”

  As soon as I open my mouth to ask another one in my long list of questions, he cuts me off, “Enough questions. We have to leave, now.”

  It took me a couple moments to decide whether I should follow him or not, but when I heard shouts and curses echoing from far away, I made up my mind and followed him. I jogged behind him, trying to catch up with his long, quick strides,

  In the midst of our silent journey, he took out his phone, tapped on it a couple of times and lifted it to his ear, “Rafael, bring the car around.”

  The wind picked up a little, making me shiver.

  He must have noticed for he spoke up in an instant, “Just around the corner, there is a car waiting for us.”

  True enough, as the alley ended at a curb, there stood a sleek black SUV with dark, tinted windows. As we neared it, Stefan opened the door for me.

  “Get in.” he tells me and I oblige, climbing into the car. He closes the door and rounds the vehicle, getting in from the opposite side.

  “My apartment is on Ivory Street.” I tell him as I settle into the plush leather seats.

  “You are not going back there.” he simply states, taking out his phone and busying himself.

  And then I lost it.

  “Hey, it’s bad enough that I’d been kidnapped today and you won’t tell me shit about what the hell is going on.” I rant, my irritation spiking, “And now I can’t even go home?”

  It was then that Stefan lost his temper. In a flash he leans over his seat and moves closer to me. My heart leapt in fear when I met his eyes, they were narrowed in anger.