by Bella Rose
Squatting down, he rested his forearms on his knees and eyed the construction of the old mansion. There were vents in the walls overhead. The access panels weren’t huge, but they were certainly available, and he would bet good money that they connected every room in the house.
JULIET WISHED THAT she had been born a man. It was funny, but before her brother’s death she had never before even considered her gender to be a handicap. Ever since her older brother’s death, she had been plagued by the fact that she was a woman. If she’d only been born a boy she would have never had to fight so hard for a leadership position within the Caglione organization. It would have been a given that she would lead once she had proved herself. At this point she could prove herself all day long and nobody would care.
Reggie the Rat was the worst offender. As Juliet took her seat in her grandfather’s office, Reggie smirked and glanced at the three-pack of cronies that had been his constant shadow since high school. “Did you bring the coffee, Juliet?”
She watched Reggie exchange fist bumps and loud guffaws with his buddies. Then she smiled sweetly. “No, but I’ve got some maxi pads in my purse. Did you need to borrow a few?”
“You bitch!” Reggie shot to his feet. He pointed at her over the table. “You don’t get to make jokes like that about made men.”
“Can it, Reggie!” One of the other capos waved at the Rat. “Put your ass in the chair, and stop trying to prove yourself against her. It’s pathetic.”
Reggie didn’t appreciate having his masculinity questioned by her, much less being admonished by another man who didn’t technically rank any higher than Reggie. He grumbled to his cronies, and Juliet bumped Reggie up the list of people who most certainly wanted her dead.
“All of you be quiet!” Papa might have been old, but he was still Carlos Caglione, and Carlos was still boss of the family. “Now. Who is going to tell me what happened with the deal?”
“We got the money!” Reggie shouted. “It went off with out a hitch. We exchanged the product with the Armenians and boom! There was a suitcase full of money.”
From his place just behind Juliet’s shoulder, Giovanni snorted. “And do you even have any idea what happened to that money, Reggie? Or did you sort of lose track of it in all of your celebrations?”
“You bastard!” Reggie fumed. “Just because you’re pussy whipped by that bitch doesn’t mean the rest of us are!”
“Silence!” Carlos snarled. He turned to Giovanni. “I would thank you to keep your counsel between yourself and your capo.” Then Carlos gave Reggie his attention. “And I know that the deal was successful because Juliet informed me of that fact right after it happened. Not only that but she took charge of stowing the money in the safe as well.”
Reggie sobered. He glanced down at the table and fidgeted with a knife he held in one hand. “I didn’t know that.”
“I know you didn’t!” Carlos said coldly. “You are ruled by your heart and not your head, and most of the time your heart is acting irrationally.”
“We need to talk about the prisoner,” one of the other capos said loudly. “Juliet’s got him stowed in her office, but he can’t stay there forever.”
As far as Juliet was concerned, they could all forget about him, but that wasn’t likely to be true. She cleared her throat. “I’ve spoken with him briefly. He’s the son of the boss of the Bratva, but he claims his father won’t risk damage to their organization just to free him.”
“That’s bullshit!” someone shouted. “Family is family.”
“Really?” Juliet said sarcastically. “Because while we were in that warehouse, most of you were more than willing to let him slit my throat in lieu of giving up the money. I’m the boss’s granddaughter, right? How is this guy any different?”
ANTONIN TOOK A deep breath and then leaped up in the air in order to catch the ledge about ten feet off the ground. The dark wood ran the length of each room and seemed to connect them all as some kind of decorative architectural feature of the house. Pulling himself up onto the narrow strip of wood, Antonin began the laborious trek down the hallway to the point where the ventilation shaft could be accessed.
He could hear raised voices across the wide expanse of the house. The sound gave him a sense of heightened urgency. He scuttled along quickly. When he finally reached the grate, he realized that it opened out and not in. He cursed beneath his breath in Russian as he pried open the shaft and carefully set the panel aside. Hopefully nobody in the house looked up. If they did they would notice a great gaping hole in the wall.
He quickly entered the shaft and dragged his big body along by his forearms. It was simple to snake along the slick bottom of the metal ventilation system. It smelled slightly musty, and there was a ton of dirt and debris from years of heating and cooling. Otherwise he could actually hear the echoes of what was going on down below in the boss’s office.
It didn’t take much to navigate the short journey across the house. There were several other branches of ventilation shafts, but he followed the sounds of arguing until he reached a point where he could see through a grate in the floor. He was suspended in the shaft high above a table. He could see hands and notebooks, and he could also hear a lot of bickering.
“Why are you all listening to a woman?” Someone was very angry.
Antonin watched a hand point emphatically in a direction that must have been toward Juliet. It was tempting to drop from the ceiling and kill the whole Caglione leadership. It would have been simple. He could have ended this all before it even really began.
Except Juliet would be likely to chop off my head before I managed to finish the job.
Chapter Eight
“FINE.” JULIET GAVE every single man at the table a very steady, very bland look. “Go ahead and send some kind of ransom request to the Bratva.” Juliet took a measured breath and forced herself to look bored. This shouldn’t matter and she was going to use the “fake it until you make it” strategy until she convinced even herself that it didn’t matter what happened to Antonin. She stared her grandfather right in the eye. “In fact, why don’t we send a note to the Bratva telling them that we’re going to mutilate and violate the body of his son and leave him in a very conspicuously public place if the Bratva don’t vacate all Caglione territory immediately?”
“Yes!” Reggie the Rat gave a fist pump. “Those fuckers will never know what hit them!”
Juliet narrowed her gaze at Reggie and gave him a derisive snort. “So you think it’s a good idea to show the Bratva how desperate we are?”
“Huh?” Reggie looked utterly confused. Then he pointed to Juliet and looked at Carlos. “What is this crazy bitch talking about?”
“I’m talking about the fact that if Antonin Mikhailovich is telling the truth, we would be giving the Bratva far too much information on how desperate we are to reacquire our territory.” She curled her lip at Reggie. “I’m saying that to give so much away makes us look weak.” She let that sink in a moment. “Is that what you want, Reggie? You want us to look weak and desperate? Brilliant plan. I so wish you were running things around here.”
“Enough,” Carlos barked.
Sometimes Juliet had a hard time reconciling the man who sat at this table with the grandfather who sometimes napped in the chair by the bay window. Carlos Caglione was a tired old man, but he was too stubborn to give up his mantle of leadership. This choice had been a workable one with her brother and father at his back. With only Carlos left to lead the Cagliones, their time on top was running out.
Behind her, Juliet felt the subtle pressure of Giovanni’s presence. He was steady and solid. His family had been part of the Caglione crime family for nearly as many generations as the Cagliones had been in the US. Tradition often held that Giovanni’s many great-grandfathers and Juliet’s many great-grandfathers had arrived on the boat from Sicily together. Sometimes Juliet wondered if it wouldn’t be wise to approach her grandfather about appointing Giovanni to the underboss position.
“More time.” She swallowed. Everything hinged on her need to buy just a little more time. She had no idea what she would do with that time, but she knew she needed it. “We need to gather intel on Antonin Mikhailovich. We need to see how the Bratva react to his disappearance. Once we see their reaction, we will know more about what value he holds to them.”
“And in the meantime?” One of the other capos gave her a pointed glare. “Are you planning on holding him hostage in your office?”
“If that’s what it takes to keep you idiots from molesting him,” she taunted, “then yes. Perhaps I’ll chain him to my bedposts and have some fun the way you savages often do with your women. Can we get a few more double standards around here?” She tossed a hank of loose hair over her shoulder. “He’s my prisoner. Therefore I’ll decide what to do with him. Until we know more, he stays where he is.”
There were grumblings, but nobody argued. It was a start.
ANTONIN PEERED THROUGH the grate and tried to figure out who sat at the table and what purpose or position they held within the Cagliones’ operation. The structure of the Italian mafia was slightly different from the Russian organization. The capos appeared to be something like Brigadiers, but they were far more critical and vocal of each other than a Brigadier would have dared. Brigadiers did not challenge each other in an overt fashion. There were petty rivalries and competition, but the units always functioned with the betterment of the whole in the forefront of their minds.
There was a man standing behind Juliet. Antonin twisted in the cramped space as he tried to get a better look at the individual who had earned enough of Juliet’s trust to protect her blind spot. Whoever the bastard was, Antonin was too suspicious by nature not to think that there was very likely much more to the relationship than suited his purposes. If Antonin was going to dispose of the Cagliones and take Juliet for his mistress and eventually his wife, he needed all competition well out of the way.
The room began to empty. Antonin waited patiently. He had no fears that someone would go poking about in Juliet’s office. She had made it very plain to everyone assembled here that she was taking charge of the prisoner. If someone was going to challenge, the way these animals behaved suggested that they would have done it right here in front of their leadership in order to inflict maximum insult and damage.
Finally, the only ones who remained in the room were Juliet, the man who stood behind her, and her grandfather. Antonin wondered at the significance of the access that Juliet was granted to the boss of the family. Within the Bratva structure there was no room for obvious favoritism such as this.
“Papa, we will gain nothing by letting those fools trying to use Antonin Mikhailovich as bait.” Juliet stood up and approached her grandfather.
Then Antonin got a good look at the man who had protected her back during the meeting. The Italian was good-looking with wavy dark hair and smooth skin that seemed to suggest he had never seen the wrong end of a knife in his life. He was dressed impeccably and looked like a million bucks.
Antonin couldn’t help but feel uncertain as he looked at a man whose body language suggested he wanted to be much more to Juliet Caglione than just her friend or compatriot.
JULIET GAZED AT her grandfather and wished she could make him see what she did. His capos were petty and small-minded. They all worried too much about their own asses to be trusted to put Caglione interests before their own.
“Papa, please trust me?”
“Sir,” Giovanni murmured. “Juliet is right. Charlie would have agreed with her.”
Carlos Caglione snorted and rose from his chair. He walked to the sideboard and poured himself a drink from the selection available. “Who are you, Giovanni Corleon, to lecture me on what my son would have thought?”
“Charlie was like a father to me.” Giovanni’s voice was tight, and Juliet realized that her friend was very close to losing it. “When he died I lost the last father I never had. God knows I lost my real father before I ever had a real chance to know him.”
Carlos nodded and sipped his whiskey. “Your father was a good man, Giovanni. That is true. He and my Charlie were best friends as boys. You and my grandson were also best friends. It has always been so between the Corleons and the Cagliones. Yet I don’t know that I am comfortable with your feelings toward my granddaughter.” Carlos waved his glass toward Giovanni.
“What?” Juliet turned around and stared in shock at Giovanni before turning back around to face her grandfather. She hated it that her cheeks had turned red with embarrassment. This was no time to act like a silly twit. “Giovanni and I are friends. He is someone I trust when the rest of my own family would see me dead or given over to the enemy as a war prize.”
“Don’t be overly dramatic,” her grandfather snorted. Then the corner of his mouth twisted with amusement. He looked at Giovanni and raised an eyebrow. “Apparently you have been very discreet. Or perhaps she is just oblivious. It isn’t as though she has much experience in the art of love.”
“What are you talking about?” Juliet could hardly catch her breath enough to speak. “Giovanni, help me out here.” But she turned to look at him and received only a blank look.
Panic started to make her light-headed. She so did not have time for this ridiculousness. She had to get back to her office. Antonin was there. He was the father of her child. She was carrying a baby for goodness’ sake! She had no time for bullshit lies about her friend wanting a relationship she couldn’t give him.
“I’ll be in my office,” she muttered. “When the two of you are done talking nonsense, you can come and find me.”
“Juliet, wait!” Giovanni said quickly. He reached for her arm, but she pulled away.
“Don’t touch me right now.” She shook her head at him. “I don’t even know who you are right now.”
ANTONIN WAS NOT surprised to see Juliet pacing back and forth in her office when he dropped through the vent in the ceiling. He hit the floor in a crouch and waited for his knees to stop screaming before he stood up.
“Gee, glad to see you could come back to the place where I told you to stay put.” The sarcasm-laden tone raised his hackles, but Antonin forced himself not to react. Now would not be the time.
Instead he decided to throw her off balance from the beginning of their conversation. “Who is Giovanni Corleon, and what does he mean to you?”
“Why do you care?” she shot back. “He was my brother’s best friend before your Bratva bastards murdered him!” She swiped at her cheeks, and Antonin realized that she was actually crying.
He hated tears. Usually they annoyed the shit out of him. For some reason Juliet’s tears affected him much differently. He felt an undeniable urge to make them go away. Not just to see her cease the weeping, but to make her feel better in some real and lasting fashion. It was a baffling response, and he was a bit at a loss as to how to explain it.
No. The important thing was Giovanni. “The man appears to have much more than feelings of friendship for you.” Antonin paced back and forth in her office. “It would be a wise match for you, considering how long his association with your family has been.”
“Wise match?” She looked at him, obviously aghast at his insinuation. “Why would you say that? I’m pregnant with your child! Why would you suggest that I attach myself to someone else?”
Why would he? It wasn’t as though he would allow it to happen. In fact Antonin experienced an immediate influx of violent thoughts at even the mere thought of another man touching Juliet.
“Are you jealous?” she asked in shock. “Seriously? Oh, that is rich! You. Jealous? Of what?” She sounded almost hysterical. “If the man has any interest in me it is likely to be related to the power he thinks he could get from marrying into my family.” She shot Antonin a withering glare. “In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re a little thin on the leadership front. Or was that your reason for attaching yourself to
me in the first place? You wanted an inside track to discover my family’s weakness? Well, I think you’ve found it. Just go and leave us alone, then.”
Antonin didn’t bother to respond to that barb. He wasn’t going anywhere of course. At this point she couldn’t let him go any more than he wanted to. “Do you love him? Did you ever? Did you consider him as a possible father for your child before I came back into the picture?”
“Again.” She took a deep breath and lifted her chin. She looked so belligerent and ready for a fight that he longed to kiss the anger right out of her. “You still haven’t told me why you care so much what my relationship with Giovanni is.”
Chapter Nine
PERHAPS JULIET WAS foolish not to be afraid of Antonin Mikhailovich in this moment. For the most part he was an unknown quantity. He was large and powerful. In fact he dripped the sort of masculine power that made other men quake in their boots. As she faced him and demanded answers, there was a small part of her brain that wondered if she was pushing a man who would not tolerate confrontation.
She felt no fear. Not really. There was no doubt in her mind that Antonin had the capability of complete brutality within him. She knew his hands had likely ended the lives of many men. Yet she felt somehow set apart from the masses, and this excited her in ways she could not explain.
Antonin was breathing deeply, his broad shoulders lifting with each breath. When he finally spoke, his tone was carefully measured. “Why do I care about the nature of your relationship with Giovanni Corleon?”
“That’s what I asked,” Juliet said, not even bothering to temper her sass. What was wrong with her? Was she feeling a need to walk the line with him? Was she testing him?
He cocked his head. “You’re an independent woman, Juliet. I get that.”
He took a step closer. The move crowded into her personal space until she could smell nothing but the spice of him. The heat of his skin shimmered over hers and she trembled, though she tried not to show it. The corner of his mouth kicked up, and she knew that he knew of her response.