by Tessa Thorne
The tires burn across the pavement as I tear down the road back to Brooklyn, thankful the map isn’t shown entirely in red. But something about the way Enzo said he knew the place is rubbing me the wrong way.
“There’s something about the deli you aren’t telling me,” I say.
He checks the ammo clip on the Glock he picked out of my trunk and chambers a round, and turns his fiery eyes on me. “It’s a disposal site.”
I slam my foot on the pedal and the Camaro roars.
Chapter Sixteen
Alessandra
I struggle against the zip ties holding my arms against the cold metal chair and I only succeed at cutting them deeper into my skin. I try to cry out again but the rag stuffed and duct taped in my mouth nearly makes me gag. I’ve looked at every corner of the deli’s back room, but there’s nothing I can use to try to escape.
I’m locked up in the pantry of a deli from what I can tell, lit only by two dim fluorescent tubes. The walls are lined with shelves and the only furniture in the room are a metal table and four lightly padded metal chairs. The ceiling is all drop tiles and there’s a loud fan in the ceiling to circulate the air.
Please Gio, save me. Hot tears fall from my face and drip down the duct tape covering my mouth. I’d finally been pulling my life together. Found a man I love. My dad even approved of him. He might even have said yes if Gio asked him for permission to marry me. And now it’s all falling apart.
Marco is sitting across from my chair leering at me. I can’t believe I ever trusted him. There’s another guy in the room. A big-nosed guy with dark black hair and a streak of white slicked back. I’ve seen him before at one of the big parties my dad took me to, but I don’t remember his name. He barely seems to notice me.
“Try him again,” the man barks at Marco.
Marco looks up at him with his mouth twisted up. At least he’s not the one in charge of the situation. He takes his cellphone off the table and puts the phone on speaker. It rings and rings until it goes to voicemail. I gasp into the rag as I hear my dad’s voice on the line, but it’s just his voicemail message.
“He’s not picking up,” Marco says to the other guy.
“You said he’d be at home waiting up while his closest guys are out of contact working on a big heist.” He slams his hand down on the table, rattling the phone across the metal surface. “So why isn’t he picking up?”
Marco stands up. “Don’t put this on me. The people he implicitly trusts will be out of contact for another two days. I brought you his cunt of a daughter on a fucking platter. I even took care of Marcello after Michael disappeared. I’ve fucking done my part.”
The big-nosed guy glares at Marco. “Dial it again.”
Marcos breaks his stare, drops back into his seat and dials the phone again, and it drops back into voicemail.
There’s a knock on the door before he can demand that Marco dial the phone again. Marco reaches into his jacket and puts his hand on the gun while the other guy does the same and cracks the door open. It opens opposite from me, so I can’t see who it is.
“Uh…Enzo’s here for Marco,” I hear through the door.
My dad is here! He’s going to save me. Thank God. I glare at Marco triumphantly. He growls at my look, walks over, fists my hair and yanks my head back.
He leans in close to my face till I can smell the ham sandwich on his breath, and my heart jumps in my throat as I feel the cold edge of a knife against my neck. “If you make a fucking noise, I’m going to slice you open. Capisce?”
I blink yes, afraid to make a noise and he drops my head back down and pulls away his knife cutting shallowly into my skin. I swallow the lump in my throat, feeling the blood trickling down my neck.
The guy closes the door and turns to Marco. “Go out there and tell him to turn himself in if he wants his daughter to live.”
I can see the sweat beading on Marco’s forehead. He’s scared of my dad. He should be. There’s no way my dad will let him get away with this, and he knows it.
“What if he doesn’t agree?”
He smacks Marco on his shoulder. “That’s what your gun is for.”
Marco purses his lips, nods and heads out, closing the door behind him. I keep following the other guy with my eyes, wishing I weren't so helpless. Sarah must have called my dad after she came to the club. Which means at least she’s okay, so that’s something.
There’s another knock on the door and the big-nosed guy levels his gun and carefully opens the door a crack. Then he lets it swing wide open and my dad walks into the room with his hands up behind his head.
His eyes widen when he sees me tied up to my chair, but he’s quick to reassure me. “It’s going to be okay, princess.”
Despite the predicament I’m in, and the fact that he’s got two guns on him and his hands up behind his head, I still believe him. I watch him as they close and lock the door behind him.
My dad looks at Marco and spits on the floor. “So how long have you been answering to Alfie, you cocksucker?”
Marco reaches back with his gun and whips my dad across the face. The blow turns his head to the side, and cuts a gash across his temple to match mine, but he doesn’t fall to the ground. He just turns his head to stare Marco down.
Alfie puts his hands on my dad’s shoulders and pushes him into one of the chairs. He turns to Marco, who’s still keeping his gun trained on my dad. “Settle the fuck down, Marco, and help me with the zip ties.”
My dad sneers up at Marco as they tie his wrists and ankles to the chair. “You think you’re gonna get away with any of this? There are rules in this world, even though you’ve forgotten.”
Marco sits down on his chair and puts his gun flat on the table, keeping his hand on top of it.
Alfie pulls up the last empty chair and sits down on it across from my dad. “Shut the fuck up, Enzo, and listen to me, will ya?”
My dad barely pays attention to him as he keeps his glare leveled on Marco. “What did Alfie promise you? To make you a made man for the Santinis?”
Marco glares back at him. “Yeah, what about it? I’ve busted my ass for you for years, and you’ve never once hinted at it. I’m tired of doing all your dirty work, and not getting shit in return.” He leans up on the table and stares down at my dad. “But you know what else I’m getting in the bargain? Your princess’s cunt to do whatever I want.”
“You stupid fucking idiot,” my dad spits out. “You aren’t getting shit. I can’t believe I ever had a dumb punk like you working close to my family. When you walk into the room to be made by Don Santini, don’t be surprised when there’s a plastic tarp laid on the fucking floor.”
Alfie puts his gun on the side of my dad’s face and nudges him to face him. “Hey. Stop fucking antagonizing the kid. We adults need to talk.”
“The fuck do you want, Alfie?” my dad says tiredly.
“We need you to retire.” He leans back in the chair, holding the gun close to his body, aimed at my dad’s stomach. “And to disband your family. Split your territory and men across the remaining four families.”
My dad laughs. “And you think the other three families are just going to go along with that?”
Alfie shrugs. “That doesn’t concern me, Enzo. It’s above a capo’s paygrade, you dig?”
“Tell you what.” He nods his head toward Marco. “You shoot this son of a bitch in the cock, and I’ll think about it. How does that sound, Marco?” He smirks.
Marco bolts upright in his chair and levels the gun at my dad. “You keep fucking pushing me, and I’ll shoot you in the god damn head, you fat fuck!”
My dad just laughs. I don’t know what he’s planning, but if he's trying to rile up Marco, he’s doing a really good job of it.
Alfie stands up and glares at Marco. “Settle the fuck down, and shut up, Marco!” He turns back to my dad. “These fucking kids, you know? So hotheaded. They don’t know how to take a simple insult without starting a war over it.”
Marco glares at them both before sitting back down and Alfie continues. “I don’t think you're quite understanding your predicament here, Enzo.”
He moves his chair out of the way and squats in front of Enzo. “The families are concerned. You’ve been killing your associates left and right. Next, you killed your own crew. Including a made man without consulting the other families.”
“No one’s going to believe I had anything to do with it, Alfie.”
“That’s not the point, Enzo.” He grins. “All that matters is giving them a reason they can cling to. The extra profit from absorbing your territory is all the convincing they’ll need to put aside their doubts.”
My dad glares at him silently and my heart falls into my stomach. My dad can’t give up this easily.
“Here’s the deal on the table,” Alfie says. “You retire upstate with your good wife. We keep your daughter safe for a year. If you behave, admit to killing Michael Delluci, and cooperate with the division of your men and territories, you get her back safe and sound.”
“What the fuck is this, Alfie?” Marco jumps up from his chair. “You promised her to me.”
Alfie glares at him. “Did I just not tell you to shut the fuck up and sit down, Marco?”
“I don’t fucking care.” He comes around the table, gun in hand, a furious look on his face. “I was made promises, and I intend to see them kept.”
“Shut the fuck up and sit down, Marco.” He points back at the chair with his gun. “This is a fucking negotiation. The deal is far bigger than your fucking fetish for the Don’s daughter. You dig? Think big for once, you little fuck.”
I hear a thumping sound from the ceiling as Marco stares down at Alfie and screams, “I’m not bending on my requirements, you big-nosed fuck!” Marco looks like he’s about to snap.
Alfie stands up, putting his nose in Marco’s face. “You watch your fucking mouth; you aren’t a made man yet.”
I hear another thump, but it’s louder this time than the last, and this time everyone else seems to notice, too. Alfie and Marco turn to look at the ceiling, and suddenly my dad launches himself at Alfie’s legs. Even though he’s still tied to the chair, he still manages to knock Alfie over. Before I can realize what's happened, a gunshot blasts across the room.
I scream into my gag as Marco levels his gun at my dad’s head. “I was hoping you’d give me a reason to shoot you--”
His words are interrupted when the ceiling fan comes crashing down to the floor. My heart leaps as I recognize Gio’s tattooed arm through the dust and debris. Another gunshot blasts through the room, making my ears ring as Gio launches himself at Marco, fighting for his gun.
My dad is collapsed on top of Alfie, and he lifts up his head and brings it crashing down on Alfie’s nose with a sickening crunch. He doesn’t stop smashing Alfie’s head, just relentlessly bringing his head down over and over until Alfie's face is bloody and mangled and Alfie isn't moving anymore.
Standing over him, Marco is trying to keep hold of his gun as he struggles against Gio. Another shot fires, ricocheting off the steel door as Gio twists Marco’s hand back with a loud crack. Marco lets out a shrill scream as he drops his gun, then doubles over from a punch to the stomach. Gio knees him in the side, dropping him to the ground. He climbs on top of him, a dusty smile on his face, and smashes his fist into Marco’s face. Another punch and his jaw crunches; another, and his teeth clatter to the floor.
He kneels over him triumphantly, his chest rising with each ragged breath. He turns to me, and the rage on his face melts away and turns to relief. He steps over my father, still on his side, trying to loosen himself from his chair and kneels down next to me. He takes a knife out of his belt and cuts the zip ties off me. He carefully peels the duct tape off my face and I spit out the gag, coughing in relief. When I finally catch my breath, he grips my head in his hands, and presses his lips against mine in a fiery kiss.
He reluctantly pulls away from me, letting his eyes linger on mine and goes over to my dad, and cuts him from the chair. He tears open his shirt, and I sigh in relief as he pulls a flattened bullet from my dad’s bulletproof vest.
Gio looks at me and smiles. “He’s okay. The vest caught the worst of it.”
My dad picks himself back up off the floor groaning, and stumbles over to me and I catch him in a hug.
“I’m so sorry you got caught up in this princess,” he says, kissing the side of my face.
“It’s not your fault, Dad.”
My dad turns to Gio, puts his arm on his shoulder and pulls him in close. “You did really good, Son.”
My heart flutters at his words despite the grim surroundings.
“But I need you to do a couple more things.” He looks around at the corpses decorating the floor. He takes a card out of his wallet and hands it to Gio. “Tell the guy outside not to let anyone in the back. Then call this number and give them this address.”
Gio turns to me, and I nod. “Go, I’ll be fine.”
My dad turns to me, and wraps me in another hug. “After he takes care of that, I’m going to have him take you home. I’ll have a doctor come patch you up, princess.” He presses his forehead against mine, and I can see a tear cutting through the dust caking his chin. “I’m sorry this happened to you.”
I wrap my arms around my dad’s shoulders and kiss him on his forehead. “I’ll be okay, Dad. Gio will take care of me.”
My dad looks up at me with squinted eyes and smiles. “I know. You’ve always been a good judge of character.”
Epilogue
Gio helps me out of the car and I step out carefully. I wonder what everyone around us thinks of Gio leading a blindfolded woman out of his car. He puts his hand around my shoulder and one on my stomach and gently guides me around the car.
“Watch the curb.”
I carefully step onto the curb and follow him to what sounds like a door he’s unlocking. My footsteps ring across a stone floor and I hear the ding of an old-fashioned elevator and its doors sliding open.
“Watch the gap.”
The door closes behind us and I feel my stomach drop as the elevator rises. I try to peek out the blindfold as the elevator opens, but he put it over my eyes really well.
“Just a few more steps, Allie.”
We stop after a few more steps and I hear his keys jingling again as he unlocks a door. We walk in through the door and he closes it behind me.
“Can I take off the blindfold now?” I ask, eager to see where I am, though I think I know.
“I’ll take it off for you.”
My heart races as he carefully unties the knot behind my head and pulls down the blindfold. I jump into the air and clasp my hands in front of me.
“You really bought it?”
I turn around to look at my man’s face. He’s beaming proudly, a huge smile on his face. “I did.”
I wrap my arms around him and he picks me up and spins me around in the brightly-lit living room.
“This place is amazing!”
He puts me down and I run into the kitchen.
“And you had the kitchen fixed up! And with good taste, too.”
He walks in behind me and grins at me as he leans on the same sturdy wooden table that was left behind by the old owners. The kitchen has been redone in red stained wood, with black granite countertops and stainless steel appliances.
“I have to give all the credit to my mom,” he says. “It’s the kitchen she always dreamed about.”
I wrap my arms around his waist and press my head against his warm chest. “She’d be so proud of you.”
He puts his hand on my head and strokes my hair softly. “She’d have loved you.”
I lift my chin and he presses his lips against mine in a soft kiss.
He breaks the kiss and smiles at me. “Today isn’t a day for sadness. I know they're up in heaven, smiling down on us.”
I kiss him again and walk around the kitchen, getting a feel for the place. “You kept the table,
huh?” I grin at him.
“I’ve got some good memories of that table.” He smirks at me, and I bite my lip remembering that night.
“I’m glad you haven’t bought any other furniture though.” I brush my hand against the grain of the table. “I want to help pick out the furniture.”
“Oh, yeah?” He smirks. “Are you planning on moving in or something?” he teases.
I laugh. “Are you going to ask me to?”
“It depends,” he says as he drops down on one knee in front of me, one hand held behind his back.
My knees suddenly feel weak and my heart races as I look down on him, smiling up at me. He takes my hand in his, and brings an open ring box out from behind his back. I don’t know if it’s the diamond glittering in the light, or the tears in my eyes making my vision blurry.
“Alessandra Pavoni, will you marry me?”
I bite my lips, and feel the rush of joy surging through my body. I take his hands, and he stands up in front of me, his gorgeous eyes filled with hope for our future.
“Oh God, yes.” I kiss him on the lips, and don’t let go. He wraps his arms around me, and pulls me up against him as I rain kisses across his jaw and back to his lips, and press my tongue between his lips to taste him.
“Yes, yes, yes!” The final word is a cry of joy.
We finally break our kiss and he takes the ring out of its box, and I hold out my hand for him to slip it on me. It’s a perfect fit. And the perfect cut.
I look down at the ring adorning my finger, feeling like I’m living a dream. “How'd you know I love the old mine cut diamonds?”
“Your mom told me.” He grins.
“You asked my mom?” I laugh.
“Well, I had to get their permission to have your hand in marriage.”
I jump up and down and cry out in happiness. “This is really happening!”
“It is.” He takes me under the arm, and scoops me off my feet. “I’ve got something else to show you, too.”