The Beautiful People (The New Mafia Trilogy)

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The Beautiful People (The New Mafia Trilogy) Page 23

by Fechenda, E. J.


  “Dominic is not like my father! He is kind, sweet and he takes care of me,” I defended him. This was mostly true, but I had forgiven him for not protecting me against Mr. Genovese.

  She sighed and regarded me with tired eyes. “So he treats you well, he doesn’t hurt you or make you do anything you don’t want to do?”

  “Not at all, Mom. He is a really great guy.” Now his uncle on the other hand, I wanted to add, but didn’t. She’d have plenty of time to figure him out if Miranda was going to be her daughter-in-law. “I ran into Chelsea’s mom today. She gave me Chelsea’s contact info. I’m going to try to make things up with her.” This was just the change of subject I needed. Mom lightened up considerably after that and we actually had a civilized, normal conversation and I didn’t feel on the defensive. We talked until almost dawn and finally called it a night when we were both yawning more than speaking.

  Grant and I left the next afternoon and I was actually sad to say goodbye to mom. We each hugged her and promised to call when we arrived back in the city.

  “So you and mom seemed to be getting along,” Grant mentioned.

  “Yeah, we had a good talk last night.”

  “Wow, that’s amazing,” he joked.

  “I know, right? I’m glad we came to visit though; guess I needed it too.”

  “We’re family; it’s always good to go home.” I nodded in agreement and stared out the window at the passing farmland. The leaves were beginning to change color, shades of reds and yellows blazed the tree line. Farmers were readying the fields for winter, pulling in their last harvest of pumpkins and gourds.

  “Speaking of family…when are you going to pop the question to Miranda?” I asked.

  “I’m going over to her parents’ house for dinner tonight. I will speak to Marco in private there and ask for her hand.” This was typical for Grant, a very traditional approach.

  “Well, break a leg. I still don’t understand why you would want Marco as a father-in-law.”

  “I’m marrying Miranda, not her father,” he pointed out.

  “Yeah, but Marco has a way of making his presence known,” I replied.

  “He’s not so bad.”

  “What? Not so bad?” I yelled at him. “Did you forget about what he did to me?” I couldn’t believe he didn’t see Marco as a monster, like I did. Love must really have clouded his vision.

  “You just have to get to know him. He’s in a very powerful position and has to do certain things to maintain that position.”

  “Oh, I know him, I still feel his hands around my throat every once in a while,” I yelled back at him. Grant winced, but didn’t say anything else. We rode the rest of the way in silence. I couldn’t believe Grant was defending Marco. He had already crossed over to the dark side and I was now beginning to see it.

  Grant dropped me off in front of the lobby and I got out without saying another word; I figured the slammed door said enough for me. Dominic wasn’t home and it was nice to have the condo to myself. I grabbed a diet coke out of the fridge and plopped on the sofa. Turning the television on, I watched without paying attention. The news came on and the top story was about another mob related slaying that had occurred on Passyunk Avenue. I changed the channel. It was comforting to know that Grant was out of town when that occurred and didn’t pull the trigger. Dominic, on the other hand, could have. I shuddered at the picture of him holding a gun and blowing somebody’s brains out without any remorse. Lack of sleep caught up to me and I dozed off as the sun set and the apartment grew dark.

  The deadbolt sliding in the door woke me up. The sound reminded me of the safety being released on a gun, something working the gun check familiarized me with. The kitchen light came on and Dominic peered around the entertainment center. He smiled when he saw me lying on the sofa.

  “I’m sorry if I woke you,” he said.

  “It’s ok.” I yawned and stretched. “What time is it anyway?”

  “A little after nine,” he answered and sat down next to me. I propped my legs up on his lap. “So, did you talk to Grant? Did you hear the news?” I was still disoriented and shook my head. Then it dawned on me what Grant was doing tonight. Secretly, I hoped that Marco would refuse Grant. “Grant and Miranda are engaged,” Dom announced.

  “Oh,” was all I could say, feeling more disappointed than happy. “Marco was okay with it then?”

  “Oh my God, Uncle Marco is thrilled. He was already making wedding plans like he was the mother of the bride!” Dominic chuckled.

  “Were you there?”

  “Yeah, my mom and dad were too. It was a family dinner.” For some reason this comment bothered me and made me feel excluded. Dominic must have picked up on my distance and put his arm around me. “I tried calling to invite you, but your cell went right to voicemail,” he explained. My phone sat on the coffee table in front of us and I reached for it. Sure enough, the battery had died and the phone shut off. I tossed it back on the table and snuggled closer to Dom.

  “I’m sorry; I’m just feeling a little cranky right now.”

  He moved my hair aside and started softly kissing my neck. I couldn’t help but giggle as his stubble tickled. He continued to leave a trail of kisses up my neck, sending goose bumps down my body. He paused at my ear. “I know how to put you in a good mood,” he whispered suggestively. I was already feeling better as the familiar tingling sensation spread out from my core. I reached for his face and pressed my lips to his. We kissed and ripped each other’s shirts off. I pushed him back on the sofa and climbed on top. He was right, he knew exactly how to improve my mood.

  Chapter 30

  Word spread fast at Crimson about Grant and Miranda’s engagement. Grant strutted around the club like a prize thoroughbred. Just like in my nightmare, Miranda was radiant, her pale skin luminescent, like a pearl. I couldn’t remember ever seeing Grant so happy. His face was always heavy with seriousness and that seemed to have lifted. He actually looked his age and not older. Although I wouldn’t have made the same choice, I couldn’t begrudge his happiness.

  Miranda’s ring finger was barely visible underneath the giant rock that Grant had given her. The disco ball above the dance floor didn’t sparkle nearly as much as the princess cut diamond. It was the envy of most of the Crimson girls. Every time I ducked into the employee lounge to freshen up, the engagement, the ring and the upcoming nuptials were the main topics of discussion.

  Dominic’s description of his uncle was dead on. Marco was behaving like a mother of the bride. I had settled into a routine whenever I worked the VIP section and Marco was present. I ignored him. He had stopped giving me any attention after I had slapped him at Brittany’s funeral, and that made ignoring him so much easier. Tonight he was sitting at his usual booth surrounded by his boys. His brothers, Al and Rico, were among them. Even though the wedding was a year away, Marco was busy discussing the wedding and how many people to invite. By the sounds of things, they were going to have to rent one of the stadiums to accommodate the guest list. Knowing the Grabanos, they probably owned one of the stadiums anyway. The conversation steered towards the inclusion of the five families in New York and that’s when the tone became more serious.

  “I don’t want to give them an opportunity to do anything at Miranda’s wedding,” Marco stated.

  “Yeah, but if we don’t invite them, it will be received as a slight and will only make matters worse,” Al reasoned.

  “Do you really think they would mar a sacred event like a wedding?” Rico, Dominic’s father, asked.

  “Of course they would take advantage of an opportunity like that. I’m surprised they haven’t settled the score yet; killing Luigi is all the reason they need, not to mention the others,” Marco added. Everyone around the table grew quiet. Marco caught me eavesdropping and his eyes got dark. I looked away, feeling my face flush. So Grant had warned them about the New York families’ plans for retaliation. I wondered if Dominic knew. If he did he was really good at appearing calm. One thing
that was becoming increasingly clear to me was that it didn’t matter how high the body count got. There was always going to be one family trying to establish power and control. Reading about it in the paper or hearing about it on the news is one thing, but actually knowing the people that are being killed, and the ones that are doing the killing, is entirely different – and extremely disturbing.

  I hurried over to another table to take drink orders. Even though my back was facing Marco, I could still feel his penetrating gaze. I wondered if he saw the fear in my eyes before I turned away from him. Grant and Dominic were moving targets, the conversation I overheard just confirmed that, and my stomach was twisted so tight, it hurt to breath.

  Dominic sensed the tension the second I sat down at his bar and ordered a drink. I hadn’t drunk anything alcoholic the past couple of weeks, but I surrendered to the craving tonight. The vodka and tonic went down way too smoothly and didn’t quench my thirst. I ordered another one. This too disappeared quickly and left me wanting more. When I ordered a third, Dominic raised his eyebrow and hesitated. “Nat, what’s up? Why are you drinking like you’re on a mission?”

  “No reason,” I lied.

  “Uh hunh,” he said as he set another drink down in front of me. From the first sip I could tell this drink wasn’t as strong as the first two.

  “Let’s run away together,” I blurted out. He laughed and set a clean glass on the shelf. He picked up a dripping wet martini glass and started drying it.

  “Where did you have in mind?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” I slurred. “Anywhere.” He set the martini glass down, flung the dish towel over his shoulder and looked at me.

  “When?”

  “Now, tomorrow, I don’t care, just soon.”

  “We can ask for some vacation time. Let’s plan something.”

  “Not a vacation, I mean let’s move, let’s leave Philly behind and go somewhere new,” I corrected him. His smile disappeared when I said this and his eyes got dark, reminding me of a green version of Marco’s.

  “Why do you want to move? Aren’t you happy here with me?”

  I took another long sip before I answered. “I am happy with you, but I think I need a change of scenery,” I looked up at the VIP section where Marco and his crew still sat. “And I think it would be safer for you to get out of Philly too.”

  Dominic reached across the bar and took my hand in his. “Is that what you’re worried about? That something’s going to happen to me?”

  “Yes,” I said quietly. “I know that the Genovese family knows you and Grant took out Luigi.” He caressed my hand as I spoke. “Grant is set on marrying Miranda and staying here; I thought I could convince you to leave.” He reached over with his other hand and lifted my chin so he could look in my eyes.

  “I’ll be safe, Grant will be safe. This stuff happens all the time, please don’t worry.” He kissed the tip of my nose.

  “I don’t know if I can do that. How can you be so calm knowing that someone wants you dead?”

  “It’s what I grew up around; I’m used to it.”

  “You may be used to it, but I don’t think I ever can be. I still feel like I’m on a Sopranos episode.” Dom laughed again and his face was all smiles and dimples again. Any seriousness was gone. He kissed me quickly on the lips and went back to cleaning up his bar. I drained the rest of my drink, but didn’t ask for another. My body was already comfortably numb.

  Dom and I walked across the dimly lit parking lot to his Mustang from Miranda’s Mercedes. We were both pretty stoned and the pot had helped to mellow me out even more. I was relieved to see that the FBI hadn’t shown back up, although I still looked around for the familiar sedan. After the last interaction with Agent Phillips, he hadn’t maintained his surveillance or attempted to contact me again. He had conveyed his message.

  Dom pulled out onto Columbus Blvd. and I stared out the window at the deserted neighborhoods. Several of the surrounding warehouses were boarded up and crumbling into dust.

  “You’re awfully quiet,” Dom interrupted my silence.

  “Hmm, just thinking.”

  “About what?”

  “Would you ever leave Philly? I mean, have you ever wanted to see what else the world has to offer?”

  He didn’t hesitate to answer. “No. I would never leave my family. Besides, there aren’t any reasons to leave. I have everything I could possibly want.” He set his hand on my thigh and gently squeezed. “Why do you ask?”

  “I was just wondering. I never planned on staying here after graduation…thought it would be nice to live somewhere else for a while.” Dominic was quiet and he stared straight ahead. I saw his jaw tense up. The tops of his knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel too tightly.

  He pulled in front of our building and handed the keys to the valet. The elevator ride to our floor was silent. Dominic flipped the lights on in the entryway to the condo and took my jacket. He still hadn’t said anything. I was getting nervous.

  Finally he broke the silence. “Are you thinking about leaving?” he demanded. His voice was sharp and his eyes angry. I took a step back.

  “No! It’s just,” I paused. “I love you and I’m happy with you. It’s the craziness around us I want to leave. The death and the violence…”

  “You can’t leave, remember? Uncle Marco will have your head – and Grant’s – if you leave,” he reminded me. His eyes flashed in anger as added emphasis.

  “That’s why I thought if we left together, he wouldn’t mind so much.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” he glared at me.

  “So, I’m stuck here, there aren’t any other options?”

  “Stuck here? Is that how you feel? I thought you were doing ok, I thought we were ok,” he said with a pained expression on his face. I rushed to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. I looked up at him.

  “We are and I love you. If I am stuck here I couldn’t think of a better person to be stuck with,” I leaned my head against his chest to hide my face. “I’m just freaking out, feeling trapped and helpless, you know? I’m sorry.” I wasn’t going to push the issue anymore tonight. Right now there didn’t appear to be an alternative, but I would find one.

  He kissed the top of my head, wrapping his muscular arms around me and hugging me close to him. “I’m sorry too. You deserve to be able to go and do what you want, wherever you want. I’m sorry that if you did, you would be hunted down. Uncle Marco meant what he said.” This sounded more like a threat than an apology.

  “I understand,” I said. I pulled away and faked a yawn. “I’m going to bed.” I wasn’t tired but went to bed anyway. Dom came in about an hour later and I pretended to be asleep. He curled up next to me and fell asleep almost instantly. His soft snores whispered in my ear.

  The condo was still and gave me plenty of time to think. Most of my friends from high school and college were off pursuing their dreams. Becoming a permanent resident of Philadelphia was never part of my game plan. Yes, I loved Dominic, but I didn’t love his family. Yes, Dominic would let me pursue my artistic goals, but within the confines of the city. Ultimately, I would always be tethered to the criminal underworld, where violence governed. Brittany had grown up around the mob and she couldn’t hack it. Was I strong enough to handle this lifestyle?

  Dom was never going to leave and neither would Grant. I resigned myself to stick it out and try to make it work. What other choice did I have? I sighed and turned to face Dominic. He slept so peacefully. His full lips were parted slightly and the traces of stubble shadowed his face. His thick black hair was tousled and hung over his dark eyebrows. I traced the lines of his tattoo, of the word “famiglia” branded on his arm and he slept on, unaware of my light caress.

  The room started to lighten with the onset of daybreak and sleep still hadn’t come. With another sigh, I rolled over and got out of bed. I quietly slipped on track pants and a hooded sweatshirt from my alma mater. I grabbed my iPod, put on sneak
ers and left the condo. The concierge looked up briefly when I walked by and waved. The doorman held the door open for me and I was off running towards Penn’s Landing. Whenever I had too many thoughts weighing heavily on my mind, going for a run usually helped. Rush hour traffic was beginning to build as the city woke up. The sidewalks were still clear and I ran uninterrupted past Penn’s Landing and up to South St. I crossed over and went down 7th street. As I approached the Italian Market the streets and sidewalks were too congested to keep a consistent pace, so I turned around and headed back to the condo. By the time I approached our building, my legs were quivering like Jell-O.

  The endorphins had worked their magic and cleared my head. I caught my breath in the elevator and reveled at the stillness, the million different thoughts pinging around had ceased. A steamy hot shower was sounding really good and I couldn’t wait to get inside to strip off the sweaty clothes. I opened the door and was surprised to see Dominic up. He turned as soon as he heard the door swing open.

  “Where have you been?” he snapped. I was taken aback by his intensity.

  “I went for a run,” I answered defensively and set the iPod down on the kitchen counter.

  “Oh,” he replied and visibly relaxed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bark at you.”

  “What’s that all about anyway?” I asked, not ready to accept his apology. He never cared where I went and had never questioned me before.

  “I thought you might have left me,” he admitted. “I tried your cell phone, but you left it here. You know you should really take that with you.”

  “Thanks for the advice Dad,” I mocked. “Maybe I’ll go running next time with my purse too, you never know when I’ll need to reapply lipstick or get a piece of gum. Did you really think I had left?”

  “I didn’t know what to think. I woke up and you weren’t here and after last night’s conversation…” he looked at me with sad eyes. “I’m sorry, I overreacted. Forgive me?” I stood with my arms crossed over my chest and debated. I was going to forgive him, but wanted to make him sweat a little bit.

 

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