by Anna Widzisz
She was not sure what he was talking about. Did he mean the meeting or her escape? Or maybe he’d seen how close Drew had been to her before he’d arrived? Each option was a viable one.
“I was already on my way to this fucking meeting when I got a call from my man that you decided to take a fucking trip around the city and went to a boy’s house. So imagine my surprise when I saw who he turned out to be,” Noah sneered, for the first time looking at the girl.
The light turned green, and he started the car with such a recoil that it scared Lynette. He didn't slow down the speed, increased it instead. They were in the city area, so they’d broken all the rules of driving already.
Her stomach came up to her throat, feeling the pressure Noah put on the gas pedal. She hated fast driving and even more now when the position she was in frightened her unimaginably. Speed only added to her fear.
Falcone changed lanes reflexively, but his skills weren’t enough to keep her calm. When he took a turn, she squealed loudly, grabbing him automatically by the sleeve of his suit. She quickly withdrew her hand and put it on the edge of her seat, clenching her fingers tightly on the black leather. She tried to stop the panic attack that was growing inside her.
As they came to a stop outside the gates of Selvaggio’s house, she was met with a surprise. Noah didn’t try to get inside the estate. But didn’t unlock the door for her at the same time. The conversation was not over yet. He was too obsessed with power and domination to allow her deed to simply go away.
“I won’t even ask you why you were there. I prefer not to hear lies,” he seethed. “But if you think I'll allow it to happen, you're wrong. It’s the first and last time I saw you talking to him. You might be safe with me but he’s not. I don’t give a flying fuck if his father is an FBI agent.”
She hadn’t thought anyone knew about Drew’s father’s job.
“Don’t look at me like this,” Noah snarled. “Did you really think I would not check when I heard his name associated with yours at school? You’re playing with fire, bella. You are asking for the attention of the feds.”
“It wasn’t my intention,” she whispered.
“Your intentions are not my concern. Severo can be blind as to what you do, but I'm not. Stay away from Ryder or the next time you hear me say the same words will be while I'm tearing off the fucker's fingernails. And you will be in the front row for the performance. Don’t test my patience, bella. You will not like the results.”
When Noah left, and she passed the gate, let in by the bodyguard, she spotted a black BMW parked near the front door. The girl didn’t have to think long about who it belonged to, as she perfectly remembered seeing the license plates at school too. The car belonged to Mark Ryder, who certainly hadn’t stopped by for a cup of tea and some chit-chat with Rosalia. He’d had to find out that her father had left for a business trip for the whole day. That's why he’d decided to use it as his chance to talk to her.
“Did you call my father to let him know that an FBI agent has come to our house?” she asked the man. He nodded.
The girl moved quickly toward the entrance.
“Where are you going? I will take you to a safe place,” Ricci growled, appearing out of nowhere next to her.
“I can handle it. I have no intention of saying anything, and if I don’t talk to them, he will try to involve my father somehow.”
Ricci seemed to be thinking of this and finally agreed, seeing as it was the only way out at the moment. “Watch yourself and Rosalia. Scream if something happens. Diego, Kaden and Georgio are at home, if necessary.”
She took a deep breath and then quickly ran the few meters that separated her from the house. It was cold outside, so she preferred to stay there as little as possible. She called from the entrance, trying to pretend that she had no idea who had come to them. Going further into the living room, where the only light was burning, there was Mark and a blonde-haired woman sitting on the couch. Probably his partner. Her legs were crossed and she held a cup of coffee in her hand. She was talking to Rosalia, but as soon as she spotted the girl in the room, she stopped, giving her a piercing look. Apparently, she was trying to analyze her which would never work. She seemed a little too young to hold such an important position in the FBI.
As if on cue, Mark Ryder got up, greeted her and introduced the woman who had come with him - Martha Levis. Then he asked her to sit down and answer a few questions about the investigation.
“I don’t want to be rude, but I think I’m supposed to be under the care of my parent during the interrogation, right?” she asked, trying to put off the conversation.
“You would have to be if you were interrogated as a suspect. Nevertheless, your housekeeper is here.”
“But I’m not a suspect,” she interjected, coming to one hell of a conclusion. They were testing her family to know whether they had an inside man. “Since I am only a witness at the moment, I would like to remind you that I have already answered all of your questions. My testimony hasn’t changed.”
“Could you leave us for a moment?” Mark said, looking at the women. Lynette nodded towards Rosalia, seeing as she wasn’t sure whether to do it or not. They went into the kitchen.
The man sighed loudly, looking irritated. “Lynette, from what Drew told me, you're very smart. It doesn’t surprise me, seeing as you are taught from a young age how to behave in different situations and you have probably seen a lot already. Let's be honest. I know what your father does, like the vast majority of Seattle.”
“It's hard not to know. He’s a well-known, successful entrepreneur.” She laughed as if she was saying the most obvious thing in the world. The agent was waiting for her to slip up and say something more.
“You know that I'm not talking about that.”
“In that case, I cannot help you, since apparently, my dad is not an entrepreneur, I have no idea who he actually is,” she acknowledged, getting up.
Lynette had already had enough of the conversation. She wanted to finish it as soon as possible.
“Whatever you say. However, if you change your mind, here’s my card,” Ryder said, handing the girl his business card. He adjusted his black coat and headed for the exit, where his partner was already waiting for him. But before he opened the door, he turned to face Lynette, who’d taken it upon herself to escort him out. “I would be grateful if you didn’t involve my son in all this and stayed away from him. He doesn’t need a girl like you to destroy his life,” he added, amplifying her irritation.
She looked at him and chuckled, knowing that he was right, but deciding not to let him see it.
“I think it's your job to protect him. If you are failing at it, it’s certainly not my fault,” she hissed as the man left and slowly started closing the door. He gave her an inscrutable look, then nodded his goodbye and disappeared from the sight.
CHAPTER 19
Lynette
Throughout the house, the lights were out, and there was a dull silence all around. The clock showed that it was a few minutes after one in the morning. Although Lynette could have sworn that while staring at the time, it had stayed still. As if it was crucial for the girl to remember that it was exactly nine minutes after one. Suffice it to say, she had a problem with falling asleep. Sitting in the armchair in the corner of the room, turning the phone in her hand, seemed like the next best thing.
She moved restlessly, her body shivering. Grabbing the hoodie that was lying near, she put on her shoes and walked out of the bedroom with the intention of getting a glass of milk. Sensitive to any sounds, she barely managed to get out of her wing when she heard footsteps coming from the basement. Turning on the flashlight on her cellphone, she headed in that direction. The basement door was slightly ajar, but the light was off.
The girl's heart began to beat a little faster, although she suspected it was the man she had seen a few hours ago being taken down by Emilio. She’d heard him being beaten and tortured. It didn’t surprise her a bit because her fath
er often did it. But she had to make sure she was right. No matter how unwise the decision could turn out to be.
Lynette opened the door wider, without any hesitation and entered. Darkness prevailed, however, even after methodically lighting each corner of the basement she still couldn’t see anyone. In the middle of the room was a broken chair, dried blood caked all over it. Another wave of shivers went through her body, this time caused by the images of what had most likely occurred in there.
She looked away, feeling sick the moment she noticed something on the floor that looked an awful lot like a fingernail. A large lump formed in her throat, eyes starting to water and the girl immediately felt her heart start to ache. It was as if Noah's threat of torturing Drew had come true. The same manner of punishment that the Seattle Famiglia used.
At times like this, she had doubts about the legitimacy of defending her father from the FBI. What he did to others was illegal, cruel and above all immoral. She had a sense of self-worth, but it was not as great as Severo's ego. The man couldn’t understand that not everyone would wish him well. He believed that if that was the case, everyone deserved to be punished, and he was never gentle.
The stormy wind slammed the small window wide open, making Lynette squeal uncontrollably. Seeing what had caused so much noise made her relax slightly, as she slowly exhaled, trying to keep the fear at bay. After a few seconds of silence, she bit her lip gently, deciding to return to her room. She shouldn’t have entered the basement at all, and the prospect of spending another minute in there was terrifying. Immediately, she slammed the window shut, as for the noise not to bother her while sleeping and headed up the stairs to get out. Grabbing the handle, she felt resistance meet her, before realizing that it had been closed. She began calling for Rosalia, feeling a growing wave of anxiety take over her senses. There was no way she’d shut the door herself. In addition, the damned window had reopened, bringing panic forth this time. Pounding with her fists against the door, she ignored the pain that encompassed her hands. The cry turned into a scared scream, begging for someone to let her out. There should be soldiers patrolling the estate so why weren’t they hearing her calls for help? It was their job!
Tears streamed down her cheeks and she could have sworn that she heard someone breathe behind her. What’s more, there was no way that she’d imagined the hot air gently caressing her skin, in complete synch with the ragged breath she’d heard. A startling realization followed immediately- she was not alone in the basement. That gave her the energy to tug on the handle even harder. Her heart was pounding as never before. The panic attack only sharpened the feeling of terror gnawing at her insides. She heard her phone ring, realizing that she still had it on herself. She pulled it out hurriedly, trembling hands dropping it and shattering the screen. There was a message from an unknown number, but she ignored it and quickly entered her contacts list, wanting to call Rosalia.
Yet, her body, which she’d rammed against the door with all of her power, slumped over and she collapsed to the floor. Emilio was standing over her, a confused expression clouding his face, as he let her out. Lynette immediately stood up, hugging the man and thanking him for coming.
“What happened to you, child? You shouldn’t have been down there,” he began, pushing the girl away from him. He wasn’t one for any kind of tenderness, and from what Lynette could see, even his young wife and children hadn’t been awarded any emotions whatsoever from him.
“There is s-someone d-down there,” Lynette said, stuttering.
“There’s no one in there,” he didn’t even bother to check her allegation. “Go to sleep if you don’t want me to tell your father that you've entered the basement in spite of the total ban he’s placed on it,” he murmured at which the girl withdrew without a word and hurried upstairs, locking the door behind her, then pushing a chair under the handle, to make it impossible for anyone to get in.
She looked at the message which was still distinguishable through her broken screen.
From unknown: Via d'uscita means a way out. You do not have one, sweet girl.
Sobbing quietly, she retreated toward the bed, without taking her eyes off the phone. Feeling something heavy and tangled between her legs, she stumbled on it, falling to the ground. As quickly as she saw the outline of someone's body, she began to scream with all the power her lungs mustered. She got up, throwing the chair from the door and flew out of the room.
Without stopping, she ran from the house, then climbed up the gate before her father's employees even knew what was happening. Her legs carried her quickly, and she felt adrenaline pumping in her veins, pushing her forward. She looked behind all the time, making sure no one was following her. She didn’t care that she was wearing only a T-shirt and shorts. The cold didn’t exist for her right then.
“Fucking mafia!” she shouted, trying to let out all of her emotions. It was impossible.
§ § §
Reality overwhelmed Lynette. The events of tonight were too much for her. She couldn’t handle it anymore. She needed to pour her heart out to someone, tell them everything she felt, and only one person appeared in her head.
Drew.
Before she realized it, she found herself in front of his house again, wondering how the hell she was going to get into his room without waking everyone up. Given that she had dropped her phone in the room, she thought of a less creative way, that often worked in movies. She went to Drew’s gate, collecting small stones along the way, and at the same time cursing her desperate idea, swallowing down the fear coursing through her blood.
Not knowing which was his bedroom, she could only hope she’d chosen well, and began throwing stones at the window. In her head, she was still seeing a lifeless body lying on the floor. Making matters worse, she knew all too well who it was and that only magnified the emotions that she was trying so hard to fight against.
“Lynette?” Drew opened the window. How she’d figured out the accurate room, she had no idea. “What are you doing here?” he asked sleepily.
“I'll tell you whatever you want. Everything,” she whispered, hoping her words would reach him and he’d understand that the girl needed to come clean to him.
He regarded her, nodded and then closed the window, telling her to wait.
Five minutes later she saw the boy’s silhouette. He closed the door of the house slowly as not to make noise, pulled on the hood of his sweatshirt and walked up to Lynette. It was the middle of the night and she was standing in front of him in her pajamas with red, puffy eyes, body shaking like a small twig caught in a vicious hurricane.
Before he could say anything, he felt the warmth of Lynette’s body as she flew in his arms, bursting into tears. Fear, confusion, despair, they all returned to her in a second.
“Dead,” he managed to understand from the incomprehensible expressions she was giving. “Rosalia is dead.”
CHAPTER 20
“Those rumors that go around the school aren’t all lies. The mafia is present in Seattle. And I am a part of it.”
Those words alone completely broke omertà. The code of silence, which was the most important in her world, was thrown to the wind with her confession. It could cost her life. Traitors were murdered for what she had just done. There was no mercy. Made Men were shot down without a second thought, their bodies dissolved in acid, buried in concrete, dumped in the ocean, or cut up and fed to the dogs. That’s how serious their rules were. Sacred almost.
Silence fell upon them as no one was able to continue the conversation. Lynette was afraid she'd just made the worst mistake in her life. Drew didn’t know how to gather his thoughts. He’d defended her in front of everyone, even his own friends, and now it turned out that he had been the fool all along. Everything he’d denied turned out to be true. One big, terrifying truth. He would like to take the girl's words for a not-so-good joke, but seeing how serious she was, he guessed that it was not the time to be joking.
He got scared. However, not of the girl but rather of w
hat she was involved in. How important was her position? He didn’t know much about mafia. Only from movies and books, but it didn’t paint a complete picture. Real life was slightly different; that was for sure.
Her uneven breath was loud enough to mingle with the wind that had started to bother them. Despite the extra hoodie Drew had taken for the girl, she was still in shorts. Her legs were tucked under her chin and hidden under the fabric. Drew could see how she was trying to put everything together in her head. Understand it somehow. And as selfish as it was, he was glad that her instincts led her to him. She had returned to him once again. She always had and probably always would.
He looked at the terrified, helpless girl. She was more than an ordinary teenager who was considered a weirdo and a dangerous person. Now he knew. She was a warrior and a survivor. She’d taken one step forward, only to realize that she had instead taken two backward. She felt alone. Broken. And he wanted to show her that no matter what was happening, she was no longer on her own. That's why he’d let her run because he was certain she would come back. And there was only one reason for it - she needed someone to be there for her. No matter what.
Drew’s fingers moved over her icy hands, capturing them in his grip. This simple gesture gave her a little comfort and calmed her down enough not to burst into tears once again. The realization showed in her eyes and the girl stood up, inspecting the area carefully.
“Why are you telling me this?”
That was the million-dollar question, really.
“Because I trust you, I guess. Believe me, it was hard for me to tell you. I’ve just done something that is severely punished. No one outside the Famiglia should hear about this. I've lived with it for so many years. I didn’t say anything to anyone, but now that Rosalia is dead, I just don’t know how to cope anymore. The impression that every day is going to be my last is getting stronger. Ever since the school year started, I've been getting threats from someone. I have the feeling that someone’s constantly watching me, but for the life of me, I can’t ever see them or have even the slightest clue as to who they are. David and Rosalia have been killed and here I am confessing it all to the guy whose father is a fed.” She laughed bitterly.