“Hi, Serena. We just got a call to say that you’re being checked out early today, so you can go ahead out to the parking lot to get picked up, okay? I already took care of the paperwork up front so don’t worry about that. And, um, if you need anything just… just call us at the front desk, alright? We can get you a meeting with a counselor or get you an extension on your term papers— whatever you might need,” she says, her voice sickly sweet as she pats me sympathetically on the arm. I give her a confused frown.
“What’s going on?” I ask suspiciously. “I don’t think I’m supposed to be getting checked out today. I don’t have a doctor’s appointment or anything…”
“Ah, well,” she says, her eyes darting around nervously like she wants to do anything possible to avoid this conversation. “It’s official. I don’t have any details, but I’m sure everything is just fine. Okay? Have a good day, dear.”
She hurries away, leaving me completely lost. My parents wouldn’t just check me out of school without warning me first. In fact, they hardly ever pull me out of class for anything less than an emergency. They’re really obsessed with my school attendance. And I don’t have any messages on my phone. If something was wrong, surely they would text or call me.
Then it occurs to me: maybe this is one of Bruno’s tricks.
It sounds crazy, sure, but it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if Bruno somehow found a way to make himself sound official on the phone and get me checked out of school. He told me that back when he was still enrolled, he used to find all kinds of ways to get out of class. Once or twice he even called the front office from a burner phone pretending to be his uncle to check himself out of class for an imaginary dentist’s appointment! If he could pull it off then, surely he can still pull it off now. He does have a pretty deep, authoritative voice. I could absolutely believe that he could make himself sound really impressive on the phone with the front desk ladies. He probably had them swooning just from one phone call!
A grin spreads across my face and I hurry out to the parking lot, feeling light on my feet. If this is Bruno’s work then I will totally forgive him for ghosting me these past few weeks. Maybe that was the whole point, letting me stew in silence to build up the surprise! Once I’m outside, I look around, thinking I’ll spot Bruno skulking around.
But he’s nowhere to be seen. In fact, the parking lot is pretty much empty except for a big black sedan slowly snaking its way out of a parking spot and over to the pickup lane in front of me. My stomach turns as I realize that this car is clearly here for me. I try to lift my spirits by telling myself there’s a chance Bruno somehow wrangled a car for a date with me. Maybe it’s a rental. Or just a fancy cab. Who knows?
The car slows to a stop and the passenger side back seat window rolls down. I lean forward a little hesitantly, and to my dismay, Bruno is nowhere in sight. A middle-aged man is in the car, and he says simply, “Get in.”
I hesitate, my heartbeat picking up. “Um, I-I don’t know. I think you might have the wrong person, sir,” I reply quietly. But the guy simply stares at me, unblinking.
I try to reason with myself quickly. If this isn’t Bruno’s work, then it must involve my parents. I can’t imagine any other scenario. Maybe my parents did, in fact, check me out of class, but there’s some reason they’re tied up and can’t come get me themselves. Besides, some of my dad’s associates drive big black company cars like this one. This guy probably knows my dad.
“You’re Serena De Laurentis, yes?” the man verifies, one eyebrow raised.
I nod. “Y-Yeah, that’s me.”
“Then you are exactly who we’re here for. Get in.”
I hesitate. Nothing about this feels right.
“Your father has been in an accident and we’ve been sent to collect you. Your mother is already at the hospital with him.”
My world goes dark for a moment. I’m helped inside the vehicle by a middle-aged man who is wearing all black.
I try to regain my composure, my control, but I fail and lean back against the seat. I just have to focus on the here and now. I have to take in my surroundings. I look to the man next to me. He’s big and burly, with facial features that make him look permanently stern, like he’s constantly on the verge of giving someone a serious talking-to. He has thick black eyebrows, a contrast to the thinning dark hair on his head.
Going over the mundane details helps bring me back to earth.
“Wh-what? What happened? Oh my god, is he okay? Is he alive? Oh my god,” I ramble, my eyes wide. The man beside me slips an arm around me, which only makes me stiffen up even more.
“He is in critical condition, but we expect he will pull through. Don’t worry,” the man says to me, giving my shoulders a squeeze that fails to be reassuring. “I’m Claudio, by the way, and our driver is Dino.”
“I-I’m so scared,” I murmur, staring down at my hands in my lap.
“We’re associates of your father, and we’re going to take care of everything. We will take you to him. Just remain calm,” Dino tells me emphatically.
I nod, falling silent. I can’t even think straight. The thought of something terrible happening to my father never crossed my mind. My big, strong, capable, powerful dad. I never imagined anything could ever bring him down. He’s always been subtly immortal in my mind, impervious to the dangers of this world. He’s a constant. A rock in my life, keeping me tethered to reality. What the hell could have possibly happened to him?
I stare down at my hands in complete numbness for what could have been minutes or hours, as time seems to stop entirely. The world has faded away entirely. Nothing matters. My mind runs in circles and my heart hammers away violently in my chest. I can’t wrap my mind around this. I want to ask more questions, demand further details. I want to know what exactly happened, what kind of force of nature could possibly bring my father down. It seems impossible. I never could have predicted this. Why hasn’t my mother texted me or called or anything? What kind of horrible chaotic situation would possibly keep her so busy and distracted that she wouldn’t think to fill me in on what’s going on?
Is my father going to survive? The man said he’s in critical condition. That’s bad, right? That’s really bad. But he’s supposed to pull through… I hope. God, I can’t lose my dad. Not like this. Not now. I’m too young. I still need him in my life. And the house is only just now getting finished. If my father dies before he has a chance to see his project completed…
Suddenly there’s a massive, violent jolt as the car runs over a pothole, and I am ripped out of my thoughts and into the present. I look up from my lap, blinking confusedly, and immediately my stomach flip-flops. Looking out the windows, I can see that we’re nowhere near a hospital. We’re on the other side of Central Park. I assumed they would have taken my dad to Mount Sinai. That’s where several of his well-connected doctor friends work, and he’s always said that’s where we would go if anything were to happen to us. But we’re not going in the direction of Mount Sinai, even though the surroundings do look familiar.
That’s when I realize we’re heading into my neighborhood, where our Manhattan apartment is located. Why are we going home instead of to the hospital?
“Where are we going? I-I thought we were going to the hospital to see my dad,” I protest, panic clear in my wavering voice. The guy beside me, Claudio, gives me another squeeze. I want so badly to wiggle out of his grip. I hate having strangers touch me. My family has never been particularly affectionate, so it’s extra weird to have this random guy with his arm around me.
“No worries, signorina,” Claudio says coolly. “We are just going to swing by your place so you can grab some stuff for your dad. An overnight bag. He’s going to be in the hospital for some time, and I’m sure he will deeply appreciate his daughter bringing him some comforts of home.”
I relax a little, but only a little. This sudden change of plans seems very suspicious to me. Why didn’t they tell me we were going to my apartment first? I’m impatient
to get to the hospital and be at my father’s side right now. The last thing I want to do is take a detour.
But something about the heavy silence hanging over this black company car tells me I should just keep my mouth shut. This is not the time for me to throw a tantrum. My dad is in trouble, and I need to just do as I’m told. Whatever he needs. In fact, I reassure myself, my mom is probably the one who suggested to Dino and Claudio that we go by the house first to get stuff for my dad. She would be the type to think of such a thing in a crisis. If these guys are associates of my father’s, then I should trust them.
Right?
Still, I really, really hope this detour is a short one. I just want to see my dad.
We pull up to the curb outside my apartment and before Dino starts the laborious process of parallel parking on the street, Claudio opens the side door and lets me out.
“Go ahead up and get started on packing a bag so we can save time. We’ll be up in just a moment. Be sure to grab some things for you and your mother, too. I have a feeling you’re all going to be hanging around the hospital for a while,” he instructs. I nod quickly and rush around to the front of the building, my heart racing as I bolt past the doorman and down the hall to the elevator. I mash the button for the seventeenth floor and pace back and forth in the elevator as it lifts, biting my lip as the tears threaten to spill from my eyes. Now that I have a moment alone, the full gravity of the situation is hitting me. My dad is hurt. Badly. I don’t know what happened, but it’s serious. My life as I’ve known it might be changing… forever.
There’s a cheerful ding as the elevator reaches my floor. “Come on, come on, hurry up,” I murmur impatiently as the doors slowly slide open. I race down the short hallway to our apartment, my hands shaking as I fumble to fit the keys into the lock. Once it’s opened, I nearly trip over the threshold in my rush to get inside. I toss the keys onto the coffee table and bolt for my parents’ suite to start rummaging through the closet and armoire. I’ve never put a lot of thought into what kind of clothing my dad wears, and it feels really strange to be going through his stuff, but I try to push the weirdness out of my mind. It doesn’t matter right now. Nothing matters except going as fast as I can so we can get out of here and get to the hospital.
I snatch up a black duffel bag from the hallway closet and start throwing a few pressed white shirts and black trousers into it along with a few of my mom’s pants and blouses. I rush into their bathroom to grab deodorant, a hair brush, toothpaste, toothbrushes— anything that looks like it might be useful and fit into the bag. Then I remember that I’m supposed to be taking some stuff for myself, too. With a groan I heave the duffel bag onto my shoulder and run across the apartment to my room, tearing the closet doors open. I hear the sound of the entryway door opening and closing, then the jingle of keys in the lock, as though someone is locking the door.
Weird. But I can’t let myself be distracted right now. I’m on a mission.
I pull a few t-shirts and pairs of jeans from my wardrobe along with some panties and bras before making my way into my own ensuite bathroom to grab the necessary toiletries. All this time, I can hear the faint sound of Dino and Claudio walking around in the apartment, waiting on me to finish up so we can go. I realize upon looking at the contents of the bag, I probably haven’t been the most efficient packer, especially in regards to what my dad might need. So I run back to my parents’ room, passing Claudio on the way.
“How many days should I pack for?” I ask him desperately. “I-I have no idea what I’m doing here.”
Claudio slowly saunters into the room, looking very much not in any hurry.
“I would suggest packing his best suit. Whichever one you think is most appropriate for a funeral viewing, since he is going to die any second now,” he says calmly, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves. My heart stops.
“Wh-what? What are you talking about? Don’t joke about that,” I shoot back, totally dumbfounded by his callous demeanor. “You said he’s in critical condition. That means he’s not dead yet. He could still make it. How the hell do you know if he’s going to die or not?”
He smiles and steps up to me, taking my chin between his fingers as he gazes down into my face. I freeze up at this intrusion of my personal space.
“Because the Costa boys don’t make mistakes, signorina. We excel at clean, tidy executions. If we say a man is to die, you can be certain he will die,” he says cruelly. I jerk away from him, shaking my head.
“No. No, no, no,” I mumble, realizing that I’ve been tricked. I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but I know I’m in big trouble here. I throw the duffel bag to the ground and make a run for it, darting around Claudio and racing for the bedroom door. But Dino steps through the doorway and closes it behind him just as I approach the threshold, and in one swift movement he grabs my arms and pins them behind me tightly.
“No! Let me go! What did you do to my dad? Where is he? Who the hell are you people?” I shout tearfully, fighting Dino’s grip with every ounce of my strength. But I’m deeply outmatched. He’s a strong, powerful man, and I’m just a skinny sixteen-year-old girl who’s never been in so much as a scuffle. Dino keeps me held in place with almost no effort. It’s like trying to fight with a brick wall. Claudio walks around the room, picking up vases and peering at framed photographs of my family on the wall, wrinkling his nose in distaste.
“All of this money he’s taken from his brothers and this is how he spends it? I should have guessed Armando De Laurentis would have such poor taste. After all, he did marry that spoiled little Gaspari puttana,” he sneers, knocking a portrait of my mother off the wall. The glass front shatters on the hardwood floor and he gingerly steps over it, crossing back to stand in front of me.
I take a deep breath and let out the loudest scream I can manage, but I’m promptly cut off by Dino’s huge hand clapping over my mouth, strangling the sound in my throat. Claudio glares at me with disgust.
“Of course you would be a screamer,” he sighs, rolling his black eyes. “Just as petulant and worthless as your mother. Tale madre, tale figlia.”
“Where do you want her?” Dino asks. The question sends a prickle of primal fear rippling down my spine. Are they going to kill me?
“Bedroom. Hers,” Claudio indicates. Dino nods and drags me, his hand still over my mouth, out of my parents’ room and across the apartment to my own quarters. Claudio follows slowly, closing the doors behind us as we go. Once we’re in my room, he snaps his fingers to get my attention. When I look over at him, my eyes widen. He’s holding a small dagger.
“I’m going to have my associate here take his hand off of your mouth. I trust that you will be quiet. If you do scream, I will have no qualms about cutting out that pretty little tongue. You won’t need it anyway,” he threatens. “Are you going to be obedient?”
I reluctantly nod as much as I can manage under Dino’s grip.
“Bene,” Claudio says. He waves his hand and Dino takes his palm off my face.
I stay quiet for a moment, proving that I won’t scream.
“Brava ragazza,” he croons. “You see? Things work much more smoothly if you just behave, signorina. We don’t want to have to lay hands on you… well, actually that is a lie. I would love to touch you. But I would be gentle. Probably.” A sick smile spreads across his ugly face.
“What do you want with me?” I ask softly, my voice breaking. There’s no stopping the tears now. There’s no point. I know I’ve lost this battle before I even got a proper chance to fight back. I’m helpless here. I’m useless.
“Oh, it’s a pity you even have to be involved. But if you are looking for someone to blame, you would do best to blame the dead. This is all your father’s doing,” Claudio begins, obviously taking great delight in telling me that my father is dead. I don’t want to believe him. I want to think he’s lying to me, just trying to upset me. But something tells me he’s telling the truth about this.
My father is dead. My father is
dead.
“What do you mean?” I press on, gritting my teeth. The tears roll down my cheeks in hot lines. Claudio heaves a wistful sigh.
“Well, for many years we considered Armando a brother. A good man. He was loyal, trustworthy even. But something changed. He became too greedy. He married the Gaspari girl and had a daughter and suddenly his priorities shifted. He no longer worked for the good of the brotherhood. He put his own family above us, his original family. His real family. He earned good money for us in the beginning, and we all prospered. But then do you know what he did? He started to keep it for himself. Lying to the Costa family. Squirreling away money that was not rightfully his. He betrayed us. For years. We are not without compassion, signorina. We gave him many, many chances to redeem himself, to come clean and return to the fold. But he continued in his traitorous ways. He was foolish, complacent. He got too comfortable,” Claudio spits angrily.
“He thought we would forgive him again and again,” Dino adds. “Your father was nothing but a snake! Running illicit business right under our noses, using our turf, our rules, our backing to build his fortune without cutting his brothers in on the spoils. We don’t operate that way.”
“No. No, we do not,” Claudio cuts back in, shaking his head. “He was a liability and a thief and he had to be eliminated. How do you kill a snake in your garden, Dino?”
“You cut him with a rake,” Dino answers, almost gleefully.
“All those years and no back-pay,” Claudio swears, making a fist. “We aren’t bad men, signorina. But we are debt collectors. And this kind of debt cannot be paid with purely money. We claim a life. This debt is payable with blood.”
“So, if you’ve already taken my father,” I start, nearly sobbing through the words, “what the hell do you want from me? Are you going to kill me, too? If so, just go ahead. You’ve already taken everything from me. I don’t have any money for you. I can’t... I can’t fix this.”
Bound to the Mafia (Bound to the Bad Boy Book 2) Page 4