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

by Fariah Zaidi

  Now, I needed information. And this fucker was going to provide me with it.

  I walked through the crowd and up to the stage, standing in the middle of. The stripper performing there batted her eyelashes at me. But the flirtatious smile wiped off of her face the instant she saw me take out my gun.

  I raised it in the air and fired twice.

  Deathly silence descended inside the club as the music cut off and every human halted their conversation. And when they recognized me, they all froze.

  “Party’s over.” I yelled, “Get the fuck out!”

  Ruckus erupted as everyone scrambled from their seats and ran towards the nearest exits.

  As the club emptied, I saw someone calmly walking into the room, hands folded behind his back, not at all affected by the people running around him.

  I instantly recognized him as Leo Rodriguez, with his grossly golden beard and protruding paunch. A couple of thick, gold chains hung around his neck that jingled with every step he took.

  “What’s with the theatrics, Esposito?” he asked, taking a seat on one of the now vacant tables.

  I casually strode down the stage and towards where he was sitting, and took the chair opposite to him.

  “I have a business proposition for you.” I said.

  “You know I don’t deal with anyone now except Valentin.” he smiled, “So why are you wasting your time?”

  “I was hoping to offer more than what he gives you. Double. Or Triple if you want.” I said, lighting up a cigarette and blowing the smoke right in his face.

  “You can offer me a hundred times more than what he gives me.” he said, waving away the smoke from his face in an annoyed fashion, “But I still wouldn’t deal with you.”

  I knew he was hiding something. I just needed to find out what.

  “And why is that, Leo?” I asked, blowing another puff of smoke in his face, “Why so much love for Valentin?”

  “Well, he is actually a very good friend.” he says, his tone filled with irritation.

  “And you expect me to believe that shit?” I asked, tapping the ash off the cigarette, “That the reason you solely deal with Valentin is because he’s your friend?”

  “Is it really that hard to believe?” he folds his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow.

  “Come on, Leo.” I laughed, “You and me both know that’s bullshit.”

  His demeanor hardened a little and his eyes narrowed, “You have a lot of nerve coming into my club and throwing questions around.”

  “Consider me highly pissed off right now, Leo.” I leaned forward, the humor leaving my voice.

  “And you think I am going to answer you?” he asked, laughing a little, “You’re in my territory right now. So unless you have some strong back up, you’re not making out of here alive.”

  He leaned forward, seeming proud, “Do not take me lightly, Esposito. And certainly do not underestimate Valentin. I’d choose my next words very carefully I were you, because I have about twenty guns pointed right at your head.”

  He was expecting me to cower, to get scared by his threat.

  Instead, I smirked, “You had.”

  “What?” he asked, looking confused.

  “You had twenty guns pointed at my head.” I answered, leaning back in my chair, my smirk widening, “Now you have twenty dead bodies.”

  The moment I said this, corpses fell from the balconies inside the club, hitting tables and chairs on their way down and falling to the floor with dull thuds.

  A panicked Leo jumped from his seat, looking all around. His face visibly paled when he realized that he was now alone with no one to protect him.

  “What the hell is all this?” he screeched.

  His eyes snapped to me, narrowed in panic and anger. He dug into his coat pocket and produced a knife, flicking it open. It was comical when he let out this pathetic war cry and launched himself at me.

  My hand shot out to catch his wrist and I twisted his arm around, making the knife fall to the floor. A hard punch to his shin had his knees buckling as he howled in pain.

  My men had now entered the room, coming to stand behind me.

  “Let’s get this piece of shit to the basement.”

  Chapter 18 (Part II): Whiskey

  Stefan

  We hauled Leo’s fat ass into the car trunk, hogtied, just for fun.

  He continued to spew meaningless threats from his mouth, trying to scare me. But none of it fazed me even the slightest.

  On our way home, just to amuse ourselves, we purposely hit every pothole. And after each one, we were rewarded with a curse and a groan of pain from the trunk.

  If he thought that was painful, well, he was in for a major surprise.

  Rafael parked next to the stone building, built about a couple hundred yards behind the Esposito Mansion.

  To the outsiders, it looked like an old church, complete with rotten pews and an old statue of Christ at the altar. However, the stairs behind the altar led to a huge underground confinement. There were a group of prison cells that we used to hold our captives and a couple of rooms that we used for interrogation.

  I already knew that Leo would be a tough nut to crack. I just wondered what resources I’ll have to use to get some answers out of him.

  Vincent pulled him out the trunk and cut open his ropes so he could walk. He was silent throughout, putting up a facade of nonchalance. Wordlessly, our group of five went down the stairs and entered the basement.

  I shoved him into the first room on the right, which was bare of any furniture save for a dingy metal chair and some chains hanging from the ceiling. Dried blood coated the floor and walls and a stale smell hung in the air.

  “What are you going to do? Torture me?” he asked, smirking, as Rafael and Enzo set to work on tying his hands and feet.

  The monster inside me was now rattling its cage, begging me let it take over and make this man suffer. With every second that passed, the urge inside me was growing more dangerous.

  I walked around him in a slow circle.

  “Well,” I answered, “I had to find some way to get you to talk.”

  He smiled a little, and looked me in the eye, “You can do whatever you want. Hurt me. Kill me. But I will not deal with you.”

  I smirked.

  “Oh, you fat bastard.” I shook my head in mock pity, moving away to take off my suit jacket, “I don’t want to deal with you. I just want you to answer some questions about Valentin.”

  He paused a little. And then to my utter annoyance, a huge smile started growing on his lips, as he leaned back in the chair, “Oh, now I get it. It’s about that whore, isn’t it?”

  My finger twitched.

  But I ignored him and continued, “Here’s how this is going to go. I ask you a question. You will answer with the truth. For each time you lie, I cut off one of your fingers. How’s that sound, Leo?”

  His façade was weakening. I could tell by the thin layer of sweat that began forming on his forehead.

  I felt a little pity. Not for him, but for what was going to happen to him. This poor fucker had no idea what I would do to get my way.

  Behind him, Enzo had already set up a small table with his tools spread out. I gave him a small nod and he picked up a wire cutter and made his way towards Leo, yanking his hand upright.

  “Now,” I leaned in, my voice low and dangerous, “what is Valentin planning?”

  “I don’t know.”

  No sooner had he said this, Enzo clipped down the cutter.

  The sick sound of his bone being cut off was music to my ears as he howled in pain. Blood dripped from the cut and on my shoes, its metallic smell filling the air.

  Without wasting time, I continued with the next question, “Where is Valentin hiding right now?”

  He didn’t answer, instead he leaned forward and smirked lightly, “Tell me, Esposito. How good is she in bed? Cause Valentin sure loved that pussy.”

  Another agonized screech passed his lips as
Enzo clipped off another finger. He struggled against the ropes, groaning loudly.

  The anger was now pulsing hard through my veins, begging me to wrap my hands around his neck. But I reeled back the ire and continued, “Did Valentin kill Diego?”

  This question had been running around in my mind since the day Diego died. If this was true, then whatever Valentin was up to, he must have devised an extensive plan for it.

  Leo heaved a little, still breathless from the pain.

  “That bitch already has you wrapped around her finger, doesn’t she?” he grinned, “Such efforts for a woman, eh Stefan?”

  I snapped.

  Rearing back my hand, I landed a punch straight to his jaw. The satisfying sound of my knuckles hitting his face did little to sate my monster, but it still felt good.

  I grabbed his bloodied face in my hand and looked him right in the eye, “That girl means nothing to me. She is just a debt I am repaying.”

  The monster was taking over, making me unable to see anything past the rage and vengeance that coursed through every cell of my body.

  I clutched a handful of his hair and pulled his head back, “And as for you, you are staying here till you give me some answers.”

  Stepping back, I fixed my tie and picked up my suit jacket.

  “See him?” I asked Leo, jerking my head towards Enzo, “Two things you need to know about him. One, he has a short temper so I suggest you answer his questions quickly. And two, he’s very creative when it comes to using his knives.”

  With that I turned around and started towards the door.

  “You’re going soft Stefan.” Leo sneered behind me, “You’re turning into a pussy. Doing all of this for a girl.”

  The sudden halt in my movements gave him the opportunity to speak up again, “Tell me Stefan, have you fallen for her yet? Does your heart race when you look at her or see her smile? Do you pour your heart out to her? Does she say that she understands your pain and hugs you and kisses you?”

  My fists clenched tightly.

  I heard him make a mock buzzing noise, “Been there, done that. It’s all a waste of time. She’ll just make you weaker, Stefan. Love always does.”

  Not wanting to hear him any longer, I stalked out the room and slammed the door shut behind me. His mocking laughter was still audible as it echoed in the dungeon.

  I was seeing red. But this time, it wasn’t at Leo. It was at me. As much as I willed myself not to be affected by what he said, I couldn’t help but ponder over his last words. Love makes you weak.

  I can’t be weak. I have an agenda and I cannot lose my focus. That weird fluttering in my heart, the way I yearned for the day to end so I could see her again, and talk to her again. My thoughts were consumed with her and I was unable to concentrate on anything besides her.

  Screw it. Screw all the feelings and shit I was thinking about this morning. My only goal right now is to avenge my mother’s murder and my family’s destruction at the hands of those fucking Romanos.

  Protecting Zara may be a promise to my mother, but that is all it would ever be.

  I was still pissed when I walked into the mansion. Maids skipped out of my way as they saw me thundering down the hall and up the stairs. Walking past my room and office, I went straight towards my other room.

  Half my nights have been plagued with my mother’s wailing screams, and the others are sleepless. Each time I closed my eyes, I would see her tied to a chair, covered in her own blood.

  This room was my solace, my safe haven. Since I was in kindergarten, I had a knack for painting. And as I grew up, it became an outlet for me, where I channeled whatever rage and anguish that pained my heart onto a canvas.

  Today however, all I wanted to do was drown myself in a bottle of whiskey and brood over the shitty life that I have.

  As I neared the room, I saw that the door was already ajar, which made my mood worsen considerably.

  No one, absolutely no one was allowed in this room.

  To my utter distaste, Zara stood there, next to my desk, holding the framed photograph of my family. One look at her and every emotion that I’d been feeling broke free, making me slam the door wildly against the wall.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing here?”

  She spun around, startled to see me.

  “Stefan,” she tried to speak, “I-I was just-just…”

  “Leave.” I glared at her.

  I needed her out of this room this instant. My anger outweighed all that I’d been feeling for her these past couple of weeks.

  “I Said. Fucking. Leave.” I hissed.

  She still didn’t move, shock plastered on his face. Was she deaf?

  “GET THE FUCK OUT!” I finally yelled.

  At once she scrambled for the door, walking hurriedly past me and out the room. I slammed the door behind her let out a sharp breath, kicking the box of brushes near my feet. A small part of me instantly felt a little guilty for being so harsh on her. But I crushed it.

  She can feel whatever she wants. She can do whatever she wants. I have nothing to do with her. I don’t do relationships, I don’t do romance. And I certainly don’t do love.

  I slumped on the huge couch and sighed, desperately willing myself to breathe and calm my raging mind.

  My clothes were soiled from Leo’s blood but I didn’t care. I opened up a bottle of whiskey and drank straight from it, wincing a little from the bitter taste of the alcohol as it travelled down my throat. I welcomed the numbness is brought. It made me feel less, made my heart ache less.

  Going through a myriad of emotions, every significant memory from the day my mother died to this day flitted through my mind. My heart twisted in pain and I took shot after shot of the whiskey, trying to numb it.

  I don’t remember how long I stayed in that chair. But the clock read 2 AM by the time I finished with my second bottle. Mustering all the strength I could in my alcohol induced state, I got up from the couch and staggered towards the door.

  Just as I stepped over the threshold, I stumbled. I waited for the fall, waited for pain that would come when my head hit the floor.

  But it never did.

  A hand shot out and gripped my arm as my body lurched forward, stopping me from cracking my skull on the hard floor.

  I looked up and saw it was Rafael.

  Wordlessly, he pressed his hand against my waist and looped my arm around his neck, and helped me stand up. Leading me back to my bedroom, he helped me into the bed and moved away to take off my shoes and socks. After pulling the comforter over my body, he switched off the lights and made his way towards the door.

  Over the pounding in my head, I watched him turn around and quietly murmur, “Good night.”

  “Thank you, Rafael.” I slurred, my eyes already closing.