by Ivy Blake
I sat up, trying to recall what had happened. The last thing I remembered was that I was in my bedroom at Papa’s house, sleeping, and a sound like a gunshot woke me up. I racked my brain, trying to remember more but my senses felt dulled.
“Leo?” I said his name in a whisper.
Leo! I had jumped out of bed, planning on going to look for him. There was lots of shooting outside and I knew that the attack had begun, but before I could leave the bedroom, Papa had appeared with his men. He said that we needed to leave, that he wanted to take me away.
I remembered there were lots of tears. I didn’t want to go. I wanted to see Leo. I wanted to know if he was okay. One of the men had brought me a glass of water, Papa commanded me to drink it so I could calm down. Then my eyelids had become heavy and…nothing…blank.
“Bella?” I heard Papa’s voice now, somewhere in the dark. The door of the room opened and I saw a streak of light. Papa came in, walking over to my bedside, and he flicked the light on under the lampshade.
“Where are we? What’s going on?” I asked him.
“We’re on a plane, Bella. My private jet. We had to take a boat out of Naples to make our escape first,” Papa said and he sat down beside me on the bed.
“What happened? Did I pass out? Did you give me something in that water?” I asked him and he reached for my knee and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“Yes, Bella, I had to. We didn’t have time to answer all your questions. You were panicking. We needed to get out of there quickly,” Papa said in a soft lulling voice. I hadn’t seen him like this in a long time. He was always so aggressive, so violent…and suddenly now, he seemed so calm.
“Why are we on a plane? Where are we going?” I asked and Papa breathed deeply.
“I’m doing what you asked me to do, darling. We’re leaving everything behind and going to New York, to start a new life there. You don’t have to worry anymore, Bella,” he said and reached for my face and gently stroked my cheek.
I felt relieved. Finally! He had changed his mind. I smiled at him.
“Where is Leo? Can I talk to him?” I asked and I could feel the color rising in my cheeks. The smile drooped on Papa’s face. His eyes looked dim and he drew his hand away from my cheek.
“He isn’t here. He is the one we had to get away from,” he declared.
I shook my head, my heart was racing in my chest. Leo was left behind! He wasn’t on the plane with us!
“No, Papa, he was supposed to come with me. We have to go back, we have to go get him!” I tried to get out of bed but Papa held me back, wrapping his arms around me.
“Shhh…Bella, calm down, darling. You don’t know him, you don’t know what he was doing. He was working with Gino Cavallini,” Papa said. I struggled in his arms. I didn’t want to believe what he was saying. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes.
“No! He wouldn’t do that! He was trying to save me from all this! He had a plan!” I screamed, thrashing my arms about, but Papa was stronger than me, he held me down.
“Listen to me, Bella. That was his plan. He was using you against me, he got in your bed so he could manipulate you, kidnap you, threaten me for ransom. He was working with Gino. He was the one who organized the attack on the house this morning.” Papa was speaking firmly, keeping me tightly ensconced in his arms.
I looked up at him, shocked that he knew I had slept with Leo. Slowly, he released his grip when he was sure that I wouldn’t try to run.
“I know, darling…and it’s okay,” he said and he stroked my hair gently. “Everyone makes mistakes. I forgive you. You fell for a brute, but it’s okay now. We got away from him and the Cavallini’s. We’ll go somewhere where they can’t get to us again,” Papa said, still stroking my hair.
Fat tears were rolling down my cheeks now, I was shaking my head.
“No! I know Leo!” I cried.
“Do you? You knew him for two days,” Papa stated, peering into my eyes.
I was feeling exhausted again. My mind felt heavy, my limbs ached. This couldn’t be happening. I knew Leo…I had been in his arms. I felt safe with him…I was falling for him!
“Bella, I know how it feels to fall for the wrong person. A person who betrays you,” Papa said, in a softer deeper voice. I didn’t know what he meant by that.
“Papa…” I tried to ask him, but he interrupted me.
“Get some rest, darling. You don’t have to worry your pretty little head anymore. In New York, we’ll start a new life, you’ll see. We’ll be a family again,” he said and lightly kissed my forehead.
I was still crying when he left the room, but where could I go? We were up in the air, on a plane! Leo was left behind…could he really be a traitor? Was he using me?
Where was he when the house was under attack? Why hadn’t he come to get me?
***
It had been three weeks since we were back in New York, and this time, I hadn’t arrived in America alone. Not only was Papa with me, but his two trusted bodyguards—Matteo and Francis were with us, too.
When we got to New York, I discovered that Papa had already made all the arrangements for us. A beautiful red brick house was purchased in Queens and decorated and ready to be moved in, and we were set to begin our new life.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Leo. I couldn’t wrap my brain around the fact that he had betrayed me, that he’d used me. But I hadn’t heard from him. He hadn’t even tried getting in touch with me. The more time I spent in New York, in this house, with Papa…the more I was beginning to convince myself that Papa was right.
I didn’t know if I could ever forgive myself for trusting a man I didn’t know. I couldn’t believe how foolish I had been to let lust and desire for a handsome young man cloud my better judgement.
I was relieved that Papa had forgiven me, that we could start moving on now, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how happy I would have been if Leo was real. If what I felt for him, if what I thought he felt for me, was real too.
Three weeks passed, and I was beginning to move on with my life. I was thinking about looking for work, putting my degree in interior design to use. Papa didn’t want me to work, he wasn’t the kind of man who believed that a woman didn’t need to work unless they were poor.
We weren’t poor. Papa had brought all the wealth he had amassed in Italy with us to New York. We were living like kings and Papa seemed to believe that we would never run out of this money.
One morning, while I was still adjusting to this new life, and spending my days trying to not think about the man who had betrayed my trust, I woke up feeling sick.
I didn’t tell anyone, hoping that it was just something I’d eaten but I was sick the next morning, too. I snuck out of the house and bought pregnancy tests at the drugstore around the corner and my fear was proven true. I was pregnant.
Shaking with fear of the consequences, I told Papa, while he was reading the newspaper in the back garden. He looked at me over the newspaper, narrowing his eyes.
“What did you say?” he growled. Papa had been calmer in America; he was less angry and he seemed to have turned over a new leaf. Now, with this news, it seemed like some of his short temper was returning. I gulped and tried to keep my head held high.
“It’s his. Leo’s,” I repeated, in a firm voice.
He slapped the newspaper down and it fell on the grass.
“You have to get rid of it. As soon as possible!” he shouted and I kept sitting on the chair in front of him. I stared into his eyes.
“No, I’m keeping it,” I replied and Papa gritted his teeth with anger.
“Do you know what you’re saying? You want to keep that baby? You want to bring a child into this world which will half belong to that scum traitor?” Papa continued to shout.
His words made me flinch. It still pained me to hear him speaking that way about Leo…I couldn’t just get rid of my feelings for him that easily. It wasn’t like there was some switch inside me that I could just turn off.
“And half belongs to me…and to you, too. You will be a grandfather, Papa,” I pleaded in a low voice.
He sat back down on his chair, mumbling angrily under his breath.
“I should have kept you under lock and key from that mongrel. You should have kept your legs closed! Just like your mother!” he growled. I crossed my arms.
“What are you saying?” I asked, but Papa had already gotten up from the chair and stormed back into the house again.
I looked down at my belly. I was carrying a child inside me. A child that belonged to Leo…a man I thought I knew, but one who had betrayed me. I was determined to give birth, I was determined to raise this child and give it a loving home, just like Mama had given me.
The next nine months passed with a difficult pregnancy. I was mostly bedridden and anemic the whole time. Papa talked about it every day, about me getting rid of this child that was killing me. There were doctors in and out of our house constantly, but I stuck it out. I wasn’t going to lose this child. I wasn’t going to lose the only thread that connected me with Leo. Even if he was a traitor, he was the only man who had made me feel safe, who had made me feel good…even if that was just make believe. I couldn’t forget him.
I gave birth to a little girl one Monday night after thirty-six hours of labor. Even though Papa and his men were there in the hospital waiting room, with Papa still fuming that I had seen this pregnancy through—I felt all alone. I wished Leo was with me, I wished he was there to see his little baby girl.
I already knew what I was going to name her. I named her Sofia, after Mama.
Papa didn’t hold her, he only looked at her from afar. He didn’t want to touch anything that belonged to Leo, especially since she looked so much like him. She had his hair and his dark glittering eyes. To me, she was the most beautiful creature in the world and I would have done anything to keep her safe.
Chapter 11
Leo
New York, 2017
For me, New York was cinematic. I knew America from the movies, which I watched very little of, and the first thing that had struck me when I landed here was that it wasn’t so different from Naples. The buildings were taller, people were dressed smarter and they all seemed to be in a rush to go someplace, but that was it. It was the same noise and the same hustle.
I was sitting outside at a cafe, drinking a watery cup of espresso. I missed the coffee back home, but that was the least of my problems. I was on a mission, and I didn’t have much time. It had taken me three years to get here and I couldn’t afford to make any mistakes.
That day three years ago, when I was lying on the wooden planks of the dock watching the boat leave, I thought my life was over. I knew it wouldn’t be long before the Cavallinis would smoke me out and make me pay for everything that Marco had done to them and the rest of the families of Naples.
Limping, clutching my shoulder wound which was bleeding buckets, I tried to make my way back to my apartment. Isabella was gone; Marco had forced her away from me and I didn’t even know where to begin to look for her.
When I got to the apartment, Gino Cavallini was waiting there for me, alone. My gun wasn’t loaded, I thought he was going to shoot me to death but instead, he sat me down on my couch and told me that Claudio from the Giovanni family had pleaded with him to spare my life. Claudio had vouched for me, he had put his life on the line for me. He had told Gino that I wasn’t the same as Marco.
Gino Cavallini proved to be a merciful man. I had spent so many years fighting him and the other families in Naples. I had spent so long being Marco’s soldier that it took me a long time before I could trust Gino.
Over the following months, Gino enlightened me on what was really going on behind my back. He showed me parts of Marco’s operation that were kept from me, the things I wasn’t privy to.
Marco and the Aducci family were involved in human trafficking.
That was a revelation that had shocked me. I had refused to believe it until Gino showed me the facts. Marco’s network still existed in Naples and all around Italy, even though he was gone. Gino was on a personal mission to break that network down, and he took me along with him.
We spent the next three years conducting raids and rescuing women and teenage girls who had been kidnapped and in the process of being trafficked out of the country. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, what we were uncovering. I had no idea that this was what Marco had been involved in behind my back.
It was all beginning to make sense now. Where that sudden surge of income was coming from, why Marco was so ruthless and violent with the people in this city, why we had lost all our allies. Marco had known all along that if I found out about this, I would go against him. He still needed me. I was his loyal and faithful servant, he needed my muscle power and for me to train his new recruits; but other than that, he had kept me safely in the dark about his underground business.
After we had successfully broken down the slave trade network in Naples, I knew that I wanted to revenge. I wasn’t alone in this. Gino hadn’t forgotten and neither had he forgiven Marco for the death of his father and what he had done to our city. I wanted to find him. I wanted to find Isabella and take her to safety, and Gino agreed to help me.
We spent the next three years trying to uncover where he could be hiding. He had planned on someone searching for him, so he covered his tracks. He was using multiple aliases whenever he did business. We eventually sniffed out a trail. Marco was beginning to grow a new operation…it was going slow but he was building it up from the ground. This time, he was doing it in America. They were back in New York.
There was very little information I could find on Isabella. She had no phone number, email or social media accounts I could reach her on and I could sense that she was under the watchful eye of her father.
All we could uncover was that she was in New York with him, and that she lived in the same house.
Once we figured out all the information, I caught the first flight to New York. Finally, in the first time in three years, I felt like I might be able to see Isabella again. Even though I wanted to go alone, Gino came with me. We had become trusting friends over the past three years. He had shown me mercy and opened my eyes to the atrocities of Marco and the family.
“This tastes like shit!” Gino spat the espresso out and lit a cigarette as we sat at the cafe together. I smiled and shook my head. The one thing I had realized about Gino over the years was that he wasn’t a polite man. But he was honest, and that was what mattered to me.
“Forget about the coffee. I’m going to go stake out the house,” I said, standing up from the chair. I couldn’t wait any longer. We had been in New York for two hours now and I had an address in the pocket of my leather jacket.
“But we decided we were going to do it tonight, together,” Gino exclaimed.
“I’ve waited three years to see her, I’m not waiting any more. I’ll stay in touch,” I told him and walked away from the cafe leaving him behind. I needed to do this alone.
***
The red brick house in Queens which had Marco’s black Mercedes parked in the driveway wasn’t nearly as close to being the mansion in Naples, but it was a pretty sweet house considering this was New York. It was obvious that Marco had taken the money with him, and he was living comfortably now.
I was sure that the house was constantly being watched. Knowing how Marco operated, I knew that he didn’t trust anybody and especially not this new country he was living in now. Matteo and Francis were on guard for sure, and if my instincts were true, he had hired more men to keep a watchful eye on the property.
I stood at the end of the road Unlike Naples, it was easier in New York to stake out a place because there were so many spots to hide and nobody knew me in this country. I had a pretty good view of the house from where I was standing, and I had made up my mind to wait there for as long as it took, until I finally had a glimpse of Isabella.
I hadn’t spent a single day in the past t
hree years not thinking about her. I couldn’t get her out of my mind. There were several times when Gino told me to just let it go because I would never find them. But now I had, and my body twitched with excitement at the thought of seeing her again.
I’d been standing there close to an hour before Marco finally appeared at the door. He had Matteo and Francis in tow as usual and I watched them descending the porch steps and heading straight for the car. I had to clench my fists to stop myself from marching over and pumping bullets in all their heads.
The car pulled out of the driveway and I looked up at the house again. I couldn’t be sure if Isabella was still inside. Whether she was or wasn’t, I was sure that there were still guards in there. It would be suicide for me to try and sneak into the house now without backup. Instead, I decided to keep waiting, hoping that she might come out soon.
I waited another hour before there was finally any movement. It came from the back of the house where the garden was. I crossed the road, feeling more confident now that Marco had gone, and I walked closer to the house. There were French sliding doors in the back of the house and instead of Isabella, I saw a little girl run out into the garden.
I stopped in my tracks, confused. What was a child doing in their home?
The little girl ran to the swings that had been set up in the garden and she jumped on it, swinging herself. I walked closer to the house, now at the red brick waist-high wall that surrounded the garden.
I watched her as she continued swinging. She was very young, three or four years old from what I could tell. She was swinging her legs wildly and humming some childish tune to herself.
My eyes scanned over her, taking in her long dark hair which had been tied in two pigtails at the top of her head. Her eyes were dark, glittering, and there was something familiar about her face. Her nose…her chin…she looked like Isabella; she had her pouty pink lips. But there was something else, and I felt my heart stop when I realized that she also looked like me!