For Cesare

by Naomi, Soraya

  For Cesare

  Soraya Naomi

  Published by Soraya Naomi, 2017.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  ABOUT THE NOVEL

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  CHAPTER 1

  Cesare – present day

  I MAKE MY WAY THROUGH the crowd in this palatial white mansion on the outskirts of East Hampton Village to greet my boss in the back of the sunken living room. The entire crew is here, including all the high ranking members of the New York Syndicate: Michael, the boss; me, the underboss; Luciano, the counselor; and the captains.

  Everyone’s in attendance with either his spouse or a date for the announcement of Michael’s wedding. My date is trailing behind me.

  “Michael,” I greet him, standing near the fireplace, and stop next to him.

  “We’re waiting for Joey,” Michael says, buttoning up his expensive, tailored suit, with his slender, blonde fiancée, Rachel, standing beside him.

  Suddenly, a prickling awareness raises the hairs on the back of my neck, and I turn my head to Joey as he approaches us.

  Behind him is his companion, and my blood turns ice-cold when I recognize the beauty in a skin tight blue dress with black hair just as dark as mine and ashy-grey eyes.

  What the fuck is Kinsey doing here?

  She’s the last person I ever expected to see again. And she’s also the one person who’s never escaped my memory. But as underboss of the New York Syndicate, I must retain my composure.

  She’s looking around and smiling, and then her eyes widen as they land on me.

  I cock my head to her, and she freezes.

  It’s been five long years since I’ve seen her, and her presence affects me still. Time is suspended while emotions rage inside me. I grit my teeth, going to Joey and her. Holding my self-control is impossible as I’m reunited with my best and oldest friend. The girl I’ve known since I was twelve. The woman I’ve cursed as much as I’ve loved her.

  Kinsey steps behind Joey while he’s in conversation with another man, and I grab her arm, towering over her with my six feet of height. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  She tries to break free but sways on her legs and slurs, “Get your hands off me!”

  Is she drunk?

  After releasing her arm, I hiss, “You don’t belong here—”

  My rant is interrupted by a loud bang. Then shots ring out, and mayhem ensues. Ducking down, I snatch my Smith & Wesson from the back waistband of my pants where it’s hidden underneath my suit jacket. And I pull Kinsey down with me, shielding her with my body while pushing her to hide behind the white leather sofa. People scream and dodge behind furniture while uninvited men barge inside Michael’s house, smoke and glass bursting around us as they recklessly spray the room with gunfire. Kinsey is hunched down beneath me, vibrating in shock, as I cock my gun, peek over the couch, and fire. But shooting is proving to be difficult with our own people running around.

  “Cesare?!” I hear a man calling me.

  I turn my head to the hall, and one of our soldiers slides an automatic weapon across the floor. Hurriedly, I snatch it up and fire a round.

  He then gives our other members new weapons, and bullets fly free while everything around us is in chaos. Smoke drifts before my eyes, and I keep covering Kinsey.

  Abruptly, I hear a loud roar and crane my neck to see Michael, kneeling and pressing his hand on his fiancée’s chest that’s covered in blood while my captains kill two men.

  “You stay here!” I order Kinsey.

  She lifts her head and nods unsteadily.

  Inching around the couch, I shoot two more attackers while spotting many dead bodies.

  “Stop! We’ve got them!” One of my captains shouts as the last shot rings out.

  Keeping my gun aimed, I rise while checking left and right. Blood covers the windows and floor tiles. Other members continue to target their weapons as we peruse the room.

  “Go check the other areas of the house,” I order four captains.

  Then I hurry to Michael, who’s sitting quietly on the floor with a dead Rachel in his lap.

  My gaze flies to the couch where Joey is now with Kinsey. Focusing is proving to be difficult when I want to smash him for touching her face. But I have more important matters at hand.

  “Michael...” I crouch down, just as he explodes, his features set in a hard line.

  “What the fuck happened?! Who were they? Lock this fucking place right now. No one leaves!” He rises and lifts Rachel onto the couch. “Look what they did! Are any of the attackers alive? I want one alive. Everyone to the living room!”

  I close the distance between us and touch his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Michael, but you need to get a hold of yourself. Dobbiamo mantenere la calma.” We need to stay calm.

  Michael takes a deep breath, and I can see him struggling. We are the boss and underboss and must always remain in control in front of our men.

  “How the hell did they get in? Get past my security? We must have a spy. Who’s new here? If you brought someone besides your spouse, line them up against the back wall for questioning,” Michael commands.

  Following Michael’s orders, all of our unmarried members line up their dates, but as I inspect the carnage for mine, I see her dead on the floor.

  Meanwhile, Michael scrutinizes each face and, one by one, asks questions to trembling women. The fifth woman is Kinsey.

  “You walked in just before we were attacked. Who are you?” Michael demands.

  Kinsey’s the only one that answers with bite, “Kinsey. I came with Joey.” And she looks at him, then at me.

  “How do you know her, Joey?”

  “She’s a friend.”

  Kinsey and I stare at one another because I’m simply unable to look away.

  “Do you two know each other?” Michael asks, his gaze landing on me.

  “Yes,” I answer as I’m bombarded with fifteen years’ worth of memories.

  I’ve know her since I was twelve. I know her better than she knows herself.

  CHAPTER 2

  Cesare – 15 years ago – age 12

  “SHE’S PRETTY!” TONY says, strolling beside me down the hall after class.

  We pass the blonde girl in question, who smiles sweetly at me. And I elbow Tony while he gawks at her, so he playfully shoves me to the side.

  “Watch it!”

  I barrel into a girl who’s standing in front of her locker.

  “Sorry.” I step back hurriedly. Because she’s so small, I’m afraid I’ve crushed her.

  She scowls at me, then continues putting her books into her backpack.

  I turn and move to catch up with Tony, who’s reached the front entrance of the school, when I overhear her mutter, “Asshole.”

  So I spin back around. “I said I was sorry.”

  She gives me a sidelong glance. “Fine, Cesare.”

  For a second, I’m amazed. This girl, whose name I don’t even know, is the first person that’s ever pronounced my name right. Tjezaray, not Ceezar.

  “Hey, you got my name right!”

  “Well, yes, I do know my history.”

  “What?” I have no idea what she’s talking about, and apparently, that’s written all over my face.

  “Cesare Borgia? Don’t
you know the origin of your name?” she asks as if I’m the dumbest boy in school.

  “Um... No.”

  “Cesare Borgia was the illegitimate son of Pope Alexander VI and supposedly had an affair with his own sister.” She slams the locker door closed and walks off.

  “Really?” Wow, I never expected her to say that, and I decide to go after her. “What’s your name?”

  “Kinsey,” she replies while pushing through the door and hurrying away.

  Outside, instead of catching up with Tony, I continue to trail her to a secluded area of the park where she flops onto the grass with a book.

  Without giving it a second thought, I approach her. “What are you reading?”

  Startled, she whips her head around and then demands, disbelievingly, “Did you follow me?”

  “Yes. What are you reading?”

  “Nothing.” She tries to snatch it closed, but I bend down and seize it from her grip.

  I make a face as I say the title, “Renaissance... Oh god, you’re boring!”

  “If I’m so boring, then what are you doing here? Give it back!”

  “Okay, okay... I’m sorry! I didn’t really mean that you were boring,” I concede.

  She glares at me as I throw my backpack onto the grass and sit down next to her.

  “Tell me more about Cesare, Kinsey.” Her story has me curious.

  She gives me a doubtful look. “You want to know?”

  “Well, he sleeps with his sister. That’s a dirty story!”

  She giggles and relaxes a bit. Her smile brings my attention to her pretty dimples.

  “Do you want to hear the decent or the twisted?” she asks with a playful grin.

  “Hmmm... The twisted.” I smile and wink at her.

  And in the next couple of hours, Kinsey teaches me more useless facts about the Renaissance than any other boy my age will ever know. Time passes as we chat and laugh. She’s really cool but seems a bit sad.

  I study her as we lie on our backs. “Why do you come here alone?”

  She sighs, and just when I think she isn’t going to answer, she responds, “Because my father is home. And he’s always high on drugs.”

  “Oh...And your mom?”

  “She left a long time ago.”

  “Oh.”

  We sit in silence, watching the clouds drift above us.

  “Want to come to my house for supper?” I ask, knowing that my mother never minds if I bring a friend home since she always cooks too much food.

  “Okay.”

  And that’s how our friendship started. Kinsey had a strange fascination with random historical facts, and she was amusing to be around, unlike the Italian girls I’d grown up with. But being friends with a girl proved to be difficult in the coming years.

  CHAPTER 3

  Kinsey – present day

  “DO YOU TWO KNOW EACH other?” The Italian man named Michael demands to know.

  “Yes,” Cesare retorts as his caramel eyes pierce through me.

  All these men are in designer suits similar to Cesare’s. Add that to the shooting and the method of questioning, and I know exactly where I am: with the New York Syndicate.

  Cesare and Michael radiate authority, and every woman around me is shivering in terror. My surroundings seem unreal as the stench of blood and gunpowder infuses the air.

  “How?” Michael barks.

  “She’s my Kinsey,” Cesare explains.

  So, Cesare has talked about me to Michael?

  “And, Joey, how do you know her?” Michael settles his scowl on him.

  “We met at a cafe a couple of days ago.”

  Cesare rakes his dark, wavy hair back with an obviously frustrated swipe of his hand.

  I can’t seem to tear my gaze from him, and my heart hurts to see him after so long. In his tailor-made suit that doesn’t hide his muscular physique, he’s no longer the boy I loved. And he’s grown more handsome with age. Though, with his beard and strands of longer hair that end just below his ear, he seems harsher as well. Yet he’s still as enticing as ever. I’d resigned myself to the idea of never seeing him again and am completely blindsided.

  “I need to talk to Kinsey,” Cesare announces and hauls me by my upper arm to the hallway and into the first bedroom.

  Slightly intoxicated, I’m finally catching up to the fact that I’m in serious trouble.

  “So, you’re fucking my captain?” Cesare hisses.

  The hostility vibrating off him is excruciatingly palpable. Nonetheless, apart from fear, I feel a rising strength. After five years, he can’t even manage a hello?

  “That’s none of your business.”

  He takes a menacing step closer. “It became my business when you came to this party.”

  I try to get my bearings, but having him this close is wreaking havoc on my brain. His familiar ocean cologne brings back memories better left in some distant, dusty corner of my mind.

  “Jesus Christ, Kins! What are you doing here?” he stresses.

  “I-I...shit! I’m just friends with Joey, and he invited me to this...”—I wave my hand around—“...this massacre.”

  “How did you meet Joey?”

  “In a cafe. Cesare...”

  When I say his name out loud, it’s as if we finally realize that we’re really, truly standing in front of each other. Cesare edges closer, his breath fans my cheek, and my hand rests on his chest on its own volition. In reaction, he covers my palm with his, and electricity pulses from the heat of his skin.

  “Kins,” he whispers in an anguished tone and braces my neck, pulling me to him.

  I inhale sharply as he nuzzles me – just like he used to do. And it causes the reality of how I ache from his absence in my life to rise to the surface. My entire body is drawn to him as if time hasn’t altered our feelings.

  I remember the words he said to me so many years ago: I’ll take care of you now.

  But then he moves back, shaking his head and releasing my hand. Rubbing his beard incessantly, he holds my gaze. “What happened to you? You look different, not like you.”

  “I am different. Five years have passed; I’ve changed.”

  “I guess...”

  “What’s going to happen now?” I ask.

  Cesare merely studies me while he’s seemingly lost in thought. Abruptly, he orders me, “Don’t talk to anyone! Only answer questions from Michael.”

  “What? Why? Are you keeping me here?” Frantically, I close the distance between us, but he retreats as if he can’t stand to be close to me.

  Before he exits the room, he tells me bitterly, “Kinsey, just do as I say or...”

  Cesare lets the threat linger, and I swallow. He’s fuming, although his eerily calm façade hides it, but I can see his nostrils flaring. My best choice is to comply, so I nod, unsure of his intention. There’s so much I want to say, but I can’t because the circumstances of our reunion are clouded by murder and death.

  Without another word, he opens the door and beckons for me to follow him.

  Back in the spacious living room, I notice fewer people. Men are already clearing out dead bodies.

  Cesare barks, “Where’s Michael?!”

  “He’s putting Rachel in his room,” Joey replies, sneering at me when Cesare looks away.

  I simply ignore him and stand there uneasily. This is so surreal.

  Michael returns and passes me, going to Cesare. They whisper back and forth.

  Then Michael points to five girls and me. “You’re staying here until I’ve done a background check. If I find out any one of you is involved with the raid and my fiancée’s murder, you won’t leave this place alive!”

  “You can’t just keep us here!” I protest without thinking.

  Cesare throws me an icy glare, silently ordering me to zip it.

  Michael insolently cocks his head and states, “Do as I say, or I’ll show you things worse than death.”

  His words effectively shut me up as a shiver runs down my spi
ne, and a man with a heavy Italian accent grabs my bicep. “Walk.”

  I pull my arm back, but Cesare’s on the Italian within seconds, shoving him away from me.

  “No one touches this girl!” And he sends a damning glare around the room, finally resting it on Michael, who makes an almost imperceptible hand movement. It’s as if they’re wordlessly communicating.

  “Cesare,” Joey says. “She’s my date. What are you doing?”

  “Are you questioning my authority?” Cesare snarls.

  A gasp comes from the other men.

  “No! But...who’s she to you?”

  Michael and Cesare look at each other again, and Cesare visibly changes.

  “Who’s she to me?” He gives me a sidelong glance. “I took her virginity.”

  “You ass!” I retort, unable to hold it back.

  And Cesare smirks, dispelling the tension among his men. Hurriedly, Cesare drags me with him, back to the room, and practically throws me onto the bed.

  “You’re staying here tonight.”

  Before I get the chance to react, he slams the door closed and locks it from the outside while I bang my palms on the surface. “Cesare?!”

  But he’s already gone, and I’m trapped in here. Then it dawns on me that he isn’t the Cesare that I used to know, yet he is. He was always protective of me, beyond reason, just as he’s been today, but the years have hardened him. I guess Cesare must’ve become a very high ranking member of the Syndicate.

  Sitting down on the edge of the mattress, I wait while our past invades my thoughts.

  CHAPTER 4

  Kinsey – 11 years ago – age 16

  CESARE HAS BEEN MY best friend for four years, but lately, there’s a difference. I’m constantly aware when he touches me, and I’m also quite aware of how cute he is. Other girls in school always giggle and flirt with him, and recently, I’ve started to resent it. But I haven’t said anything to him about it, and unfortunately, it’s resulted in a distance between us. While I used to see him almost three times a week, now, I sometimes don’t speak to him for days.

  On occasion, I wonder if he’s getting more involved with his father’s gang. I’ve learned that Cesare’s father is part of the New York Syndicate, and I understand that their wealth comes from the Cosa Nostra, from the criminal world. And Cesare knows about his father too, but he says he isn’t part of that life – yet.