by Sienna Blake
The chief walked over to the curtains and snatched them closed, surrounding us in darkness. He switched on a side lamp, the light throwing shadows across his face. “Now,” he turned to me, “talk.”
I told him what I knew about her attempted abduction, the contract that had fallen to Goldfish, the proof that Goldfish had given me of my father’s involvement.
The whole time the chief paced back and forth across the carpet, tugging at his hair as he became more and more agitated.
“Where is she being held?” he demanded when I finished talking.
I knew. I had paid dearly for that information.
I grabbed Benvolio’s shirt in my fists as he struggled against the rope around his wrists. It had been so easy to incapacitate him. He’d been so damn trusting. He just let me into his apartment and turned his back to me. “You’ll fucking tell me where my father is keeping her.”
“What makes you think he told me?” Benvolio’s voice was shaking even as he tried to keep it steady.
I lifted my lip in a snarl. “The money for her contract was wired from a subsidiary in your name. Don’t even try to deny that you aren’t balls-deep in this shit.”
“Alright. Alright.”
I let go of him and painfully uncurled my knuckles, stiff from the fists I had made in his shirt and his face.
“She’s being held on a farm, southwest of Verona. It used to be a slaughterhouse. There’s a cold storage room there that’s decent for holding…” he stiffened, “people who we need to hold.”
“Address. Now.”
He rambled it off. I pulled out my phone and looked it up. Sure enough, it used to be an old abattoir. “Thanks, cuz.” I slid the phone back into my jacket and curled my fingers around another piece of metal.
“You’ll let me go now?”
Over Benvolio’s shoulder, I spotted the photo frame he kept with a picture of the two of us. We had been sixteen then, lanky arms slung around each other’s necks. “Of course.” I smiled. “We’re cousins. Family.”
Benvolio let out a sigh of relief. “Get this fucking rope off me, man.”
My father’s voice echoed inside me. No weapon, no evidence, no witnesses.
The smile faded from my face. I slid out my gun, a silencer on the end, aimed and pulled the trigger.
Back in the chief’s house, I cracked my neck, shaking off this recent memory. “I know where they’re holding her.”
The chief stopped pacing. “Where?”
I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest. “I want to make a deal. I want it in writing.”
He stiffened. “What kind of deal?”
I outlined my proposition.
The chief spluttered, his cheeks turning red. “As if I’m going to make deals with a filthy scumbag criminal like—”
“Careful, chief,” I said, “this criminal is your only hope for getting your daughter back.
We glared at each other. A battle of wills. Who would give in first? I could see the chief working through his hatred for me and weighing it up against his daughter’s life.
His shoulders slumped first, then his breath came rushing out of his mouth in an audible swoosh. “Fine, I’ll make it happen.”
Relief filled me. The truth was, I would have given up Julianna’s location without cutting a deal for myself if it came down to it. Thankfully, it didn’t come down to it. Julianna’s father really did love her.
I nodded. “Make it happen. You have until dusk tonight.”
I turned to leave but Chief Capulet grabbed my upper arm in a vice, shoving the barrel of the gun in my cheek. “Make no mistake, Tyrell, even if I can get sign-off on this deal, I don’t trust you. You breathe wrong and I’ll take you down. You fuck me over and I’ll make you wish you were never born.” He leaned in close. “And if anything happens to her, I’ll kill you myself.”
25
____________
Julianna
I lay in wait in my silent cell, dinner tray in my hands. It was made of a thin metal. The flat of the tray was flimsy but it curled around the edges to make a firm, thicker lip. If I swung it at just the right angle, at just the right spot, it might work.
At least, I hoped it would. It was the only weapon I had. The remnants of my dinner, a plastic bowl crusty with canned tomato soup and bread crumbs and an empty plastic bottle of water, sat in one corner.
My “toilet” was a wooden bucket with a lid that sat in the farthest corner. At first I was embarrassed at relieving myself in such an undignified way. It didn’t take long for my bladder to feel like it was bursting and for me to stop caring.
I’d been standing at the edge of the door, waiting, for ages. Hours, it felt like. Although I knew it was more like minutes. They always came back within the hour to pick up my meal things.
Finally I heard the footsteps of someone approaching. I heard the jingle of keys. I readied myself, lifting the tray above my head.
The door to the cold room slid open and a guard stepped in. I swung with everything I had. I smacked the base of his head with the edge of the tray. It made a dull clunk. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed to the ground.
I stared down at the guard. He was no more than a boy, really. Maybe eighteen. Nineteen at most. What the hell happened to him that he would choose a life working for the Tyrells?
I had no time to lose, no time to stand around feeling sorry for my captors.
I slid around the corner of the doorway. Right into the barrel of a gun. The second guard lifted his lip in a sneer. Past him was a thin corridor between palettes. I could see parts of a wooden building. I could smell hay and the earthy hint of livestock. I was in a barn. Likely on rural property. I probably wasn’t even in Verona anymore. My stomach dropped. How was anyone going to find me out here? The only one who would have known that I was missing was Roman.
“Back in your cage, girlie,” the guard said, “or you and me will have problems.”
I lifted my hands up. Dammit. I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.
26
____________
Roman
“You’re late.”
I froze at the doorway to the dining room of my father’s large mansion, where my father was seated with Abel to his right. Abel sneered at me from his seat, the one that should have been mine. A few of my father’s men stood around at various points of the room, guarding him.
“Sorry, Father.” I strode to the empty seat on my father’s left, ignoring the look he and Abel were trading. The table was laid with various plates of pasta, steamed greens glossy with melted butter, and a leg of lamb in a baking tray sitting in a thick, rich tomato and olive sauce.
“Where have you been?” my father asked.
For a second I wondered if he knew.
I shrugged as I began to fill my plate, even though I was anything but hungry. “Out.”
“Out where?”
I tried not to flinch. My father never questioned where I was. Why now?
“Just…out. Riding around. Clearing my head.”
“I did not give you permission to leave the mansion.”
I speared an olive on my fork. “I didn’t think I needed it.” My father had forbidden me to leave earlier. I had to dodge the security cameras, then climb over the wall to get out.
Bang!
My father’s fist slammed down on the table, making everything vibrate. “You will look at me when I’m talking to you.”
I put down my fork deliberately, swallowed my olive and lifted my eyes. His black eyes glittered with fury. Was he angry because I disobeyed his orders? Or did he know I had sought out his enemy? Did he know I was plotting the downfall of his empire?
If he knew, he’d kill me. No, he would torture me, make me hurt for days before he got bored and finally killed me.
Don’t flinch, Roman. Act like you’ve done nothing wrong.
My father leaned in towards me. “You dare disobey me again and I won’t think
twice but to punish you.”
Let it go, Roman. Just nod like a good boy and keep your mouth shut.
I couldn’t let it go. “I’m a Tyrell,” I said. “I do what I want. Isn’t that what you’re always telling me?”
I could feel more than hear the collective holding of breath of the men around the room. Abel hissed under his breath at my insolence. My father glared back at me. The tension twisted between us. Father. Son. The student now becoming the master. The power struggle clear. This had been the first time I’d ever talked back to him and he knew it. I wondered if anyone had ever spoken back to him and lived. I was no longer a boy. I was no longer listening to his word as gospel and “yes, Father,” “no, Father” was no longer part of my vocabulary. His usual methods of demand and obey were no longer going to work on me. I could see the slight flash of fear in his eyes. I was no longer his son, a man beneath him, but a man reaching for his own power. An equal. Someone who could easily take his place. Someone to be feared.
I could see the flash of indignation in being spoken back to in front of his men. He wanted to punish me. But I was his only heir and he needed me.
The tension in the room was thick, suffocating. I matched his stare, daring him to do his worst. Go on, Father, I egged him on with my smirk, do your worst. Challenge me. I’m ready. I’m not afraid of you anymore. We’ll see who comes out on top.
My father’s lip twitched. He broke out into laughter, breaking the tension. He leaned back into his chair and clasped my shoulder. “Finally, you’re getting it through your thick skull. Yes, you are a Tyrell. You do what you want, when you want to do it. Let any man here dare to get in your way.” He wiped the small beads of sweat off his brow. Across his forehead I could see the fingers of his right hand shaking.
* * *
After dinner, I waved off the glasses of cognac that were being passed around and made my excuses. I left the dining room and headed down the corridor to my room, my leather shoes sinking into the plush carpet, my head spinning. A hand grabbed me roughly on my shoulder.
I spun, my body tensing. Abel was glaring at me, the dining room door shut behind him, leaving the two of us alone. Had my father sent him?
I shoved his hand off my jacket. “Touch me again, dog, and I’ll make sure you never use that hand.”
Abel sneered at me. “You talk a good game. But I think you’re full of shit.”
“You want to test me on that?” I stepped closer to him, glaring down at him, using my extra two inches to my advantage. He didn’t even flinch.
“I think,” he said slowly, an excitement glittering in his eyes, “that you’re getting too close to people that you shouldn’t.”
I stiffened, trying not to reveal the flash of panic that went through me. If Abel had any inkling of where I’d been… If he knew I’d been about to run away with Julianna…
If he had proof, then I’d be dead. I shrugged and turned to leave, dismissing him with a scoff. “I don’t answer to you.”
“Your father’s getting suspicious too.”
I snorted. “If my father had suspicions, then he’d be the one up in my face.” I turned to face him again, my arms crossed over my chest. “You just hate that I’m his son and that I’ll be your boss one day.”
“You don’t deserve it,” Abel said with a snarl.
“Careful,” I said, “your bitterness is showing.”
“Maybe. But you’ll fuck up soon enough. Just remember,” he smiled, “I’m watching.”
27
____________
Roman
The next morning, Abel, my father and I rode in a limo together in silence. The city flashed by as we traveled out of Verona, the roads becoming uncovered and gritty. The apartment blocks turned to houses, then to farmhouses, then to stretches of open land.
Nerves jumbled through my veins. I refused to let myself fidget. There were so many unknowns. So many things that could go wrong. The front of my shirt itched but I dared not scratch it.
The chief pulled out a small black device the size of a pea. “This is a recording device.”
“You want me to wear a wire?”
“We need Giovanni to confess to something, anything illegal. To smuggling drugs, to ordering a murder. Just get me something.”
I hesitated. Walking into the lion’s den wearing the wire was a stupid idea. Too risky. What if they searched me?
But the chief was right. They needed something other than my testimony. My father’s lawyers would argue that I fabricated it to cut a deal.
It wasn’t his ass on the line, though.
I stared at the tiny black device. I didn’t have a good feeling about this.
We pulled up to a deserted farmhouse outside of the Verona outskirts. I stepped out of the limo and slid on my sunglasses as the early morning light shot over the thick trees. In a field, now overgrown with weeds and stalks as high as a grown man, a huge wooden barn rose, paint peeling, thick dust on the windows.
“Where are we?” I asked, pretending I hadn’t known about this place. That I wasn’t here just last night.
“A property we hold in a hidden subsidiary company,” my father said. He directed us towards the large barn door, partly opened in anticipation of our arrival. Several men stood holding rifles in their hands.
“What’s this?” I asked as a suited man standing by the door began to wave a metal wand over Abel’s body. It ticked as it went over him.
Abel turned and smirked at me as the metal wand was waved over his back. “A bug detector. Sensitive stuff going on inside. We want to make sure that no one’s stupid enough to wear a wire.”
Don’t fucking flinch. I stood like a lump of metal as the bug detector went over my father. A bead of sweat rolled down the small of my back. “Is this really necessary?”
My father glared at me. “Yes. For me. And you.”
The metal wand waved over him. The man holding it nodded. “You’re clear.”
All eyes fell on me. I could refuse to be tested. Then I’d probably be strip-searched.
Just get this over with, Roman.
I stepped up to the man and held my arms out, looking bored. “Well, go on then.”
He waved the wand over me. Tension coiled in the air as the thing clicked. I felt Abel staring. I knew he was waiting for the wand to start shrieking.
“Just remember,” he smiled, “I’m watching.”
This scan was probably his idea. He’d be the first to put a bullet in me if it went off.
“Turn around, please.”
I spun slowly. My vulnerable back was to Abel and my father. All those eyes. All those guns. I felt naked, under a spotlight. I refused to flinch as the wand made another pass over me.
“That’s all, sir. You’re clear.”
I let myself release a tiny breath of relief before I turned to face Abel, his eyes wide with disbelief. He thought he had me.
I smirked. “What? Did you think I’d not pass your stupid test?”
Abel snarled. I strode past him into the farmhouse as if he didn’t exist.
Inside I glanced around, pretending to take it all in. It was an old barn with a high roof and open rafters, the hay bales still standing about the place. It had been an old abattoir. The air still stank of soured blood and old death, sending a ripple of anxiety through me.
Abel and my father followed me. The barn doors were shut behind us. I turned to my father. “What are we doing here, then? Playing with hay?”
A small smile played on his lips. “We’re going to send a message to Chief Montgomery with proof that we have his daughter.”
“Proof?”
“Yes.” My father smiled at me, the cruel, gleaming smile of a snake. “You’re going to cut off her pretty little finger.”
28
____________
Julianna
I don’t know how many days I was left in that storage room. Two. Three. The light never changed. I had no watch or clock to help me keep time.
My father must be worried sick about me now. Was he looking for me? Did he have men on the case?
I thought about the bodies found dumped in Little Italy. I imagined my own pale lifeless body, devoid of color and hope, lying in the bottom of a coffin. The bile rose up the back of my throat.
I shook my head. I would not turn out that way. It would all be fine. We’d get out somehow…
It must have been early morning when the door to the storage room slid open, waking me up. I sat up and wiped my face, squinting against the fluorescent light that was never switched off. I had set up a few blankets on the floor in the darkest corner of the room as my bed. That’s where I had slept for the last few nights.
The door to my prison gaped like an open mouth.
I expected Giovanni Tyrell. When a wiry figure stepped from the shadows into my cell, I sank back.
Abel Montero, Giovanni’s right hand man, the man they called “The Butcher.”
His scar flashed white as he smiled at me. “We need an audience with you.”
“What if I don’t want to come with you?”
“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.” A gun appeared in one of his gloved hands. “Would you like to do this the hard way or the easy way? Please say the hard way.” He grinned. “I like it when they choose the hard way.” His voice slithered down my spine like a snake.
I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. I lifted my hands and shuffled forward. “I’ll come willingly.”
That just made Abel grin wider.
He led me through a short corridor to where the main barn area opened up. My eyes squinted as they tried to adjust to the increased light. Half a dozen men stood around, some holding guns, all in suits.