Sabato: The Cross

by Mj Fields

  “Not your thing, I get it. But she is not bleeding and I can tell you she wouldn’t have been upset if she were.”

  “Nah, not what I expected but if that’s your thing, then -”

  “It is not my thing,” I stop and glare at him, “It is hers. Let me ask you, did you exchange numbers and set up a date with -”

  “Nah, she had a list of shit she’s not into.”

  “I knew she wasn’t a true sub,” I run my hands through my hair, “It was nice to meet you, Zandor.”

  “I’m gonna go grab something to eat, you wanna come? I’ll buy.”

  “I’m not hungry-”

  “After all that you’re not hungry?”

  “No.” I answer and turn to walk away.

  “Shit dude, just wanted to show some appreciation,” he says with a bite.

  I reach into my pocket and grab my phone. I read the message I get with the information.

  Zandor Steel is associated with Benito DeLuca. I immediately get defensive and wonder if Father has planted yet another person to spy.

  “Appreciation or are you being-”

  “Hold up,” he cuts me off and takes his phone from his pocket, reads something and laughs.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Your family ties man, seems they cross with mine in a fucked up way. But yeah, thanks for the advice earlier. I got it from here.” He begins walking away and it irritates me.

  “Explain,” I demand.

  He stops and looks at me, “Any friend of Benito DeLuca is no friend of mine. But again-”

  “You’re associated with the fucking idiot, I’m not. My father-”

  “Is the fucking big Ragu, the Don, the fucking guys who run the underground-”

  “My father is a self-serving asshole.”

  “He’s the leader of the fucking Cosa Nostra. I’m all for head in bed, but I piss his boy off and I’ll wake up with a fucking horse head in my bed and that shit ain’t right. Plus, I have a knack for pissing people off,” he chuckles.

  “I’m hungry and-”

  “See man, I fucking told you,” he grins. “Look, you promise your old man isn’t gonna come after me and I will still buy you dinner. I mean, after all we shared tonight I owe you that, hell little Miss Lacy could have gotten at least a meal outta me, but every time I was talking to her I felt your fucking eyes sculling me.”

  “I accept, but here’s another thing, unless you want a committed sub, don’t you offer any more dinners.”

  *.*.*

  Tonight I have invited Zandor to my club, Privato DesIdErio’, Florence. I like him. He seems relaxed and lost in an odd way. He doesn’t need my money, he doesn’t want a job, and he doesn’t like Benito, therefore I am allowing myself to enjoy teaching him.

  “Ciao,” I answer my phone when I see Zandor Steel’s number.

  “Listen bro, you spoke English to me the other night, I now have expectations; don’t fuck it up,” he says in relaxed manner, one that I am comfortable with him speaking to me in.

  “Fine, but don’t show up here with expectations and for God’s sake, leave those dancing shoes at home.” I try to joke back. I think I pull it off.

  “Listen. I’m not gonna make it tonight and I’m not gonna pull any punches and say some shit like, ‘I have my period’ or ‘I need to wash my hair.’ I like you man, you don’t pussy foot around me like half this motherfucking country, so this isn’t personal. I have a family who I need to protect. I’m not comfortable in a place that some Al Capone character is gonna get pissed ‘cause I have a bigger dick and take it out on them. So how about you and I take off for a little trip? There’s a shit load of kink clubs around and admittedly I need some guidance. I liked the way things went down the other night and I need a fucking break from my family ties, man. You think the Mafia is bad, you ought to take on Momma Joe.”

  *.*.*

  “What do you mean a vacation Sabato,” my father barks. “You started seven clubs in seven years. I gave you the money to start them, now you wanna walk away?”

  “No, I’m taking a vacation. The clubs have paid for themselves, they are owned by me. You gave me a loan, no different than you would anyone else. I paid it back along with the forty percent interest you charged me. They are legit and run smoothly.”

  “No, I need you around,” he snaps.

  “I wasn’t asking permission. The only thing you need me for is a place to hide money—”

  “You better watch yourself—”

  “You better remember, threats mean shit to a man who doesn’t value his next breath or fear losing it. You have the combinations to my safes, use them. I have people managing my clubs and surveillance cameras making sure they don’t fuck up. You’re the only one, other than me, who knows they’re there and how to skirt around them. You’ll be just fine.”

  I close my suitcase and stand toe to toe with him. It is not often I see defeat in his eyes, but over the past seven years I have given him very little to be disappointed in me about. I have even sensed from time to time that he is proud of me. I don’t love the man but I know he works hard and that he is proud of that. For that reason, I have stayed connected with him.

  ‘He is your father,’ I remember Luciana saying to me.

  I don’t like to think of her, I don’t like to think about my mama. I let them both down; I will never pretend to be anyone’s eroe again. That way I can never be the cause of another’s devastation.

  *.*.*

  After a few weeks, I am more relaxed than ever before. I return, having met a man who I can call my friend. He is different from me and I like that. There is no competition, no judgment, nothing but a good time. Zandor Steel is like a fucking party.

  I have returned to an angry father and my help, my girls, are not the same as I left them. They are skittish and seem untrusting. They came to me this way and I fixed it. I have a responsibility to them; I will get to the bottom of the issue and make it right without causing them further stress. If he is connected, I will make him pay.

  Two weeks pass and Zandor is going home to the United States; his family is apparently in crisis. “Fuckers are dropping like flies. One’s married and the other is about to do the same damn thing. I gotta stop them.”

  *.*.*

  Three months pass and Zandor comes back to visit. Apparently, he too got caught in that nasty little web. He is happy, truly happy and I am pleased for him. We still go out, except now he brings a girl with him. It is funny as hell to watch him ‘control’ her. She seems to like what control brings, but is resistant to it outside of the scene.

  His family follows. I find them interesting. You can tell there is strength in their brotherhood but it is always foreshadowed by what the matriarch of the family says.

  They respect her; she not only demands respect but she has earned it. I have heard stories now. It isn’t often that I accept the invitation to dinner with all of them. Quite frankly, it’s difficult and I find myself face to face with my past. However, the draw to them is undeniable and the bond they share seems extended. They are a good family. One I would never allow myself to believe I could have again, but being entertained by them is never dull. It douses a flame in me, but only for a moment.

  When they return to the states, I don’t feel like something was taken from me, even though I should miss them. I decide it is because I did not claim them. Doing that would result in devastation to them.

  Within days, I am unaffected.

  *.*.*

  It is a Monday night. Privato DesIdErio’ Laverno is closed to the public. It’s card night. I love to play poker and I love to take the money of men who bow to my father, yet feel they don’t have to bow to me. I don’t desire power in that sort of way but Monday nights give me a taste.

  Dominic Segretti has been around lately. I don’t trust him; he is Benito’s relation and Benito is father’s closest ally. I have allowed him to come because I want to figure out what it is he is up to. I also know he is considered a fie
rce competitor, practically un-beatable and when I take his money, he’ll know I am not to be toyed with.

  He is a formidable opponent, very hard to read, unlike the other clowns were tonight. He is hanging around the club, yet seems unaffected by the women and I know he’s up to something. I watch him. He’s had three drinks in the past two hours; he hasn’t touched the women, he is watching me and I want to know why.

  When he walks up to me in the corner table, I dismiss the girls and he sits down.

  “You took all my money,” he half jokes.

  “You seem to be playing a different kind of game.” I expect him to deny it but he doesn’t.

  “I need your help.”

  “Why would I give you my help?”

  He looks around, “Is it safe to talk here?”

  I don’t answer. I stand up and walk to the back; he is following, I know it without looking. I walk out the back door, “Is this your car?”

  “Yes,” he answers.

  “Have you had it swept?”

  “I have, but it’s been here for a few hours, can we walk?” He starts walking without waiting for an answer.

  My curiosity is peaked and I follow.

  When he stops and turns, he runs his hands over his head. “My cousin Zandor seems to like you, trusts you, says you’re a good person.”

  “Keep going.”

  “I need your help.”

  “In?”

  “I’m going to bring down Benito DeLuca. In doing that, I am going to more than likely bring down your father and in doing that, you may be in danger too. The clubs you run—”

  “Own, they are not his, they are mine.”

  “Fine, which makes it worse. Benito is laundering money and millions of dollars are being shifted from DeLuca—”

  “I am going to tell you this once. I don’t give a shit what you do. Don’t come back here and because you are Zandor’s friend—”

  “Cousin. He doesn’t even know what is going on here.”

  “Walk away and I will act like this conversation never happened. You keep me out of this—”

  “They’re stealing from your friend’s family’s company. Is that okay with you?!”

  “It has nothing to do with me!”

  “Your businesses are a fucking cover for it.”

  “That’s where you are wrong, my businesses are legit and legal.”

  “I hope so, for your sake,” he starts walking away and stops. “I am taking them down. My family started this company and it will once again be called Segretti. I will do this with or without you. Do not stand in my way. Do not tell Zandor, by doing so you’ll put him and his family at risk.”

  “Then why the hell are you doing it?” I am angry.

  “Something was taken from me a long time ago and I want it back.”

  “Opening doors to the past is never a good idea.”

  “That my friend, is a personal preference.” I turned to leave and stopped. “You have a couple weeks. Make sure you have everything in order.”

  “Don’t threaten me,” I caution him.

  “It’s not a threat, it’s a kindness.”

  I am not panicked I know I will be fine. I have taken precautions. I am, however, wondering what I will do with myself and some of my girls if I end up shut down.

  I will think of something, I always do. I never get too comfortable. That is a luxury. I just have to figure it out.

  *.*.*

  “Hey bro, long time no hear from,” Zandor answers the phone.

  “I am considering a visit.”

  “Well fuck yes, come on over!” He laughs.

  “And I am considering expanding.”

  “Nice, what do you have in mind?”

  “Do you know of any fool that bought a club thinking he wanted to be just like me and then dropped like a fly?”

  “Fuck you. You saw my Kitten.”

  “Oh yes, the one with the sharp tongue to match her claws?”

  “She’s learning, so am I. Fuck man, I want it all. Best of both worlds,” he’s spewing off like a teenage girl with all the happy ever after shit.

  “Great, sell me the club.” I interrupt.

  “You really want Steelettos?”

  “I want the club; the fucking name, not so much.” I can’t help but laugh, “That’s why you like those dancing shoes, huh? Let me guess, it’s all lights and bling.”

  “Screw you man, it’s actually fucking perfect.”

  “Then sell it to me.”

  “I get to come play in one of the private rooms, a VIP and you have yourself a deal.”

  “Perfect.

  *.*.*

  I stand outside father’s office, my blood is boiling, and I am going to kill him. I am going to kill him with my bare hands. I am going to do it slowly and in the most painful way I can devise.

  My phone vibrates in my pocket and I see a message.

  This is Dominic. Are you in or out?

  It doesn’t take me long to respond, I’m in.

  I thought so, heard you bought a place in Jersey. How did your old man take it, will it make him suspicious?

  No. It will be fine. He will never know what hit him.

  Growing up, I was the voice of reason in my close-knit group of friends.

  I was always the girl who told my girlfriends that second chances were granted only in certain situations—but not something that a guy you date should ever feel entitled to. I was the girl who set a three-drink limit on herself at a party that lasted four hours, because I had to make sure that everyone got home safe at the end of the night. But I’ve also always been the girl who will cut those ties, no matter how long I’ve been friends with someone, if I feel like they’re starting to drag me down.

  Because, unlike most of my friends, I know that people can’t truly change, unless they choose to. I’m never rude or disrespectful about it, and I never push my personal beliefs off on anyone else. But if they can’t accept that I’m not going to waver, no matter how long or hard they push, I have no problem walking away.

  My first boyfriend, Ryan, was someone I grew up with. I dated Ryan from my freshman year until my senior year. I loved him—or thought I did, at the time—but I knew I wasn’t ready to have sex with him. He pushed, I pulled, and finally the tie that bound us together, broke.

  Honestly, I think in retrospect I always knew he wasn’t the one. Not the one I wanted to go ‘all the way’ with, at least. If he was, I feel like there would have been a fierce attraction, an undeniable, unbreakable need to be with him. To want to kiss him, and be touched by him, all the time—but there just...wasn’t. My attraction to Ryan was more like the way you would feel about orphans in Africa. You hope they’re doing okay, and you don’t want to see them get hurt, but...you’re probably not going to give up your entire life to go live in a hut, just to be with them.

  In all honesty, being with someone felt more like an obligation, or a line on my resume. In a relationship: three years. See? Not crazy, or defective. I’ve got skills. I can hold down a boyfriend for three whole years. Hire me. Or something.

  That was all it ever was, with anyone.

  One would think, that after attending four years of college and majoring in a field that makes you feel like you have a purpose, you’d be content. I was never a rule breaker, but I had my fair share of fun. Always while staying true to my own moral compass.

  Then, a month ago, everything I thought I knew about myself changed.

  I no longer wanted to be just a social worker. Suddenly, making a difference in people’s lives, one person at a time—everything I used to think I wanted to do—wasn’t enough. I no longer wanted to be ‘just’ a social worker. I wanted to change the world, change laws, and make life better for generations of people for years and years to come. Before anyone really knew what was happening, I’d already been accepted into the summer pre-law program at Cornell University, in New York City.

  It came as a shock to everyone around me. Though, had anyon
e really been paying attention, it would not have come as such a surprise. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that people don’t take notice of much—not when they’re too busy living their own lives. I don’t mean to pass judgment; it’s just how the world works. People will act in their own self-interest, even if you give them an option to do something more, because people are self-centered creatures.

  So here I am, on my own, naturally—as nature intended. Moving to New York City, while getting ready for an interview with the admissions department and looking for apartments.

  I say it aloud to myself often: I’m going to be living in New York, the greatest city on Earth. NYC. New York City!

  Well, I guess if I’m being honest, I’m not actually alone. I mean, I do have friends in the area. Sort of. My best friends, my high school best buds and college roomies. We were inseparable, until now. Nikki lives in New Jersey, just a short ride from me and Laney has just landed a job in the City too. I am hopeful Paige will find a reason to stay while here and we will all be close, again.

  Laney doesn’t know I’m in town yet, so tonight, Paige, Nikki, and I are going to surprise her at dinner.

  Nikki’s man, Abe, planned it while she and Laney went apartment hunting.

  As I’m getting ready, there’s a knock on the door of my hotel room. I glance at my watch, but I’m pretty sure it’s Paige. I jump up off the bed and run to the door, flinging it open.

  “You’re here!” I screech, wrapping my arms around her.

  “Sure am,” she returns the hug and laughs. “Holy shit though, did you see Laney’s IG?”

  “No, why?”

  “Hubba-hubba hotness, she’s definitely over that redneck.” Paige holds up her phone so I can see the guy.

  I can’t help but laugh. “She’s got a new ride, now. Giddy up, motherfucker.”

  We both giggle as we search through his Instagram feed. There is a picture of Laney’s guy standing with another man. And while Dominic is no slouch in the hubba-hubba department, the other guy is stunning.