by S. C. Ellen
A chill sweeps down my spine at the thought of the horror that might be happening to him at the moment, right beneath my very own feet.
My hand hovers over the golden-colored knob on the door with contemplation. I know only two things can come out of my intrusion. On any other day he would be overjoyed to see me, but with what just happened out there, I fear I might get the complete opposite reaction.
Raised conversation from inside the room piques my interest, and I strain against the door to get a better grasp of the intense discussion happening just beyond the door.
“The Russians pulled a fast one on us and have a couple of our men, Ro. They are keeping them hostage, and doing God knows what with them. I’ve sent out a shitload of our best soldiers to find them, and even have a few Russian hostages of our own to get information from, but it’s not looking too good.”
I know eavesdropping is frowned upon, and if I get caught right now, I’ll be in some serious trouble, but I can’t help myself. Something is obviously wrong, and I need to get to the bottom of it.
The voice of another familiar man sounds, “What do you think set those bastards off?”
A quick pause and an intake of breath can be heard. “They know it was us who took out Vitaly.”
I place a hand over my mouth in horror. Vitaly Pavlov? As in the bratva’s boss? That’s impossible! No one outside of the familia is to ever know about that. My heart races and dread fill’s my system just thinking about what this can possibly mean.
“There is no way they could have ever found out unless someone in the loop told them. So not only do we have a rat to find and brutally deal with, but the Russian bastards keep taking our men! Last week it was three and today’s the same shit! I will interrogate each and every person, one by fucking one, in this goddamn organization until I have that son of a bitch.”
The slamming of a fist startles me into action, and my hand accidentally jolts across the door, causing it to open. I catch myself against the wide doorframe before my body can connect with the ground, and I pale underneath the stark gazes of the two fierce men in the room.
It’s an office I know only too well, with a huge mahogany desk and a big bear of a man sitting behind it with a big fat cigar, smacked right in between his lips.
“Alayna Marie Pentalini, how many times do I have to tell you to knock before you enter any room?”
I quickly gather my wits, pretending I was totally not just listening in on his important conversation. “Apparently a few more, Dad,” I joke, trying to appease the mood—which doesn’t work, by the way. It only makes the angered vein on his forehead that much more prominent.
I acknowledge the other man in the room—my uncle Romario—who is married to my fathers sister, and give him a quick kiss on the cheek in greeting. I then make my way over to one of the black leather chairs my father has lined up in front of his desk to take a seat.
My dad is too overbearing for his own good. With his big belly, salt-and-pepper hair, and beefy mustache, one would think he’s just any regular guy… but oh no, Vincenzo Pentalini is one guy you do not want to mess with. Clearly.
He’s known as a fearless man, seeing as he was raised to witness a number of untold things growing up, and to never back down from anyone. All in preparation for taking on the role of Don, for the Midwest’s biggest mafia gang located in Detroit, Michigan. You could say that his leadership skills and knowledge come naturally to him as he was taught from a young boy that one day he would take over once his father wasn’t there to run it anymore.
But besides all that, he may have a hard exterior when it comes to the mafia, but he’s always been just a big softie to me.
I know he’s in a mood, but I’m quite concerned for him. I’ve never seen him like this before, and it worries me. “Is everything okay?” I ask, nervously tugging on a curled strand of my long dark hair, looking between the two men.
“Things are a little tense tonight, mio tesoro. I don’t want you to be here any longer than you have to be.”
My brows furrow together. I don’t want to be here any longer than I have to either. Quite frankly, I can do without this place. The only reason why I came in the first place is because I have a job that needs to get done, and I’m the only one my father trusts with it. “What about the books for tonight? They haven’t been accounted for yet.”
“Nonsense.” He waves me off. “I’ll have Ro here take care of the bookkeeping from now on, or just until things have calmed down. Consider it as an extended vacation.” His expression softens, and my nerves begin to relax with it.
“You know your mom has been wondering where you’ve been hiding ever since you moved into your new place. Why don’t you go visit her? She would be grateful for the company, you know.” He takes another puff of his cigar, and guilt fills my chest at the mere mention of my mother.
Her overbearing ways knew no bounds as soon as I left the nest a few months ago. She didn’t take me leaving too well, even if I was twenty-three years old, and more than capable of living on my own.
From the corner of the room, Uncle Romario’s phone chimes, and he lets out a curse reading the text that was sent. “Merda.” Shit. He takes out his phone and dials up a number. “Still nothing?” he asks the person on the other line. It’s silent for a few seconds until he speaks again. “We are on the brink of war right now, Lonzo. Do you know what the fuck that means? I want every fucking person on that list questioned until their goddamn bleeding from their—”
“Romario,” my father sternly warns, gesturing to me in the room. “Enough.” Romario bows his head in apology and stalks out of the room.
My heart drops at the word war. “Poppa…” I begin, but he stops me before I can ask.
“This is familia business, Alayna, it’s none of your concern. No more eavesdropping on things that don’t and shouldn’t involve you. Got it?”
I’m not even shocked that I was caught. One thing about Vincenzo Pentalini is nothing gets past him EVER. He has eyes and ears all over the place, but this… this is more serious than I initially thought. “I know I shouldn’t have been listening… but earlier you said the Russians found out that it was us who took out Vitaly. Now they want to start a war because of it, don’t they?”
He sighs, putting out his cigar on the ashtray I bought him a few years ago.
“Of course, they do, they’ve been waiting to take over our streets for decades. They wanted this from long ago. Why do you think Vitaly tried to put a bullet in the middle of my goddamn forehead? Dumb coward thought he could pull a fast one on me, but he didn’t know whom he was going up against.”
I shiver at the reminder of how close I came to losing my father. Vitaly attempted to take him by surprise and literally brought the feud to my father’s own front doorstep a couple of months ago. Vitaly and my father have been going at it for years, so things with the Russians have been heating up for a while now. Recently my dad took over a street the Russians controlled and Vitaly didn’t take it too kindly. Apparently Vitaly’s ‘revenge’ on my father was a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing, as he came by himself unprotected. My father must have known all along that Vitaly would pull something as stupid as that was because he was definitely prepared. He grabbed his revolver, opened the front door, and before Vitaly could even comprehend or get out his own gun, my dad strategically took aim and shot the man down.
Point. Blank.
Done.
My father called up his men to take care of the body, and planned to make it look like the Irish, another rival of the Russians, did it. The body was found behind an alley of an old warehouse the Russians used for all sorts of pickups. Since the Irish were known for clean neck shots, and also the kind of bullets and gun my father used on him, the Russians believed it right away.
After a couple of weeks, war between the Irish and Russians came to a screeching halt, and now I know why.
Someone in the loop ratted.
I stand up and round the corner to his
desk and give him a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Whatever happens, be careful, Poppa. Momma and I need you, and so does the rest of the familia.”
“Don’t worry about your old man, I can take care of myself. However, I have been meaning to talk to you…”
Even more dread fills my system; his talks are never a good sign, so I mentally prepare myself for whatever he has in mind to talk to me about. Whatever he’s going to tell me can’t be worse than what he just revealed, surely? Besides, I’ve been on my best behavior lately, so whatever he has to say can’t be that bad… I hope.
“A war is bound to break out anytime now, mio tesoro, and I know the Russians play dirty when it comes to it. Things are a bit crazy right now, and I have no idea when the Russians might strike again, and I have no idea if the Irish found out, too, but that’s not going to stop me from taking every single measure of precaution I can. As much as I will protect you from anything and everything, I can’t always be there, and I need to know that you’re safe at all times. I’ll be damned if I let the evils of my world latch themselves onto the only light I have, mia familia.” My family.
My heart warms a bit at just how strong and loving my father is, but it saddens me how much stress he must go through to protect so many people. He never shows it, though, that’s one thing about Vincenzo Pentalini. He never shows weakness.
However, I’m a little confused as to where this conversation is going, and it has me a bit on edge still.
He suddenly dials up a number from the phone on his desk, and after a few seconds, someone picks up.
“Everything went well, I’m assuming?… Hmm… I need to see you in my office… now would be good.” And with that, he hangs up and turns to me.
He has a strange look in his eye, and as I try to decipher what that look could be, a firm knock on the door is heard, interrupting my thoughts.
“See, Alayna? People knock before they enter a room.”
I roll my eyes and let out a sarcastic laugh.
“Come in,” my father commands.
And as soon as I see who walks in the door, that smile is immediately wiped off my face as I stare at the man before me.
Alayna
I am all but practically violating the man with my eyes. His thick, dark brown hair is pulled back away from his face, showing off a pair of mesmerizing green eyes that have an alluring and almost hypnotizing pull to them. His defined jawline accompanies the perfect amount of stubble, and his body structure looks like it was carved straight from stone, with the way his business suit clings to him, complimenting his broad form.
He is a machine of a man, towering over me by a good foot and a half, making the room feel tiny in his presence. The air surrounding him is thick, emanating a vibe that lets me know he is not the type of man you want to cross.
The dominance he carries is powerful, and I feel it all around me.
It is raw.
It is real.
It is ruthless.
And it is all consuming.
He’s dangerous, that much is clear, and I am completely captivated.
A deep, guttural breath escapes from him, causing me to look straight into his eyes. They hold a mischievous and threatening look to them that makes me both, intrigued and completely terrified.
I suck in a breath and immediately turn away.
I have no idea who this man is, and by the way he has me captured with just one look, I don’t think I ever want to know. I have to physically keep myself from looking at him again, out of fear that I’ll fall into the trap that is him, or worse… what I will find again in his gaze.
“Alayna, this is Carson Granvil. Carson, this is Alayna, my daughter,” my father introduces us. I pause for a moment, mulling the name around in my mind.
It sounds so familiar… Where have I heard it?
And then it hits me.
Memories of my childhood come flooding back in. It was then that my interest was piqued into finding out who exactly this ‘Carson’ person was that my father had taken under his wing.
At a young age, it was hard to understand why my father never brought him around or introduced us to him. I even remember asking why, time and time again, after finding out about Carson, but my father always replied with a simple, “It’s complicated,” and that was the end of it.
For the longest time, my mother thought that my father had an affair with another woman and ended up having a child with her. It wasn’t uncommon for men in this life to have mistresses, so even my brother and I started to believe it.
One day, however, I found my mother snooping through my father’s office, holding a birth certificate. She saw the names on it and nearly fell to her knees, in obvious shock. And not even a second later, she was out of the door with the birth certificate in hand. It was long into the night before my mother finally came back home. I smelled the scent of cigarettes and booze on her, and I knew right away, that she had went to the nightclub.
The thing about my mother is that she has never smoked a cigarette in her life, never drinks any liquor besides a glass of wine for dinner, and she absolutely never steps a foot inside my father’s nightclub. So, I knew that it would have to be a pretty serious situation for her to go down there, because she rightfully despises the place. The strangest part, though, was that when she returned home that night, the birth certificate was no longer in sight, and she never doubted my father and his loyalty to her ever again.
I was confused as to why it would shock my mother so much finding just a sheet of paper, and why all thoughts of an affair could suddenly vanish like how it did. However, whenever I asked her about it, she would get angry all over again, and told me not to speak of it.
So, I never did.
My father never said anything about him either, except that he was a young kid with a lot of potential, but who had no guidance or a stable home. It saddened me to an extent, but what could I do? He was a stranger. Just a faceless name.
As I became older, I honestly forgot all about him, and moved on with my life because he was just an unsolved mystery to me.
It wasn’t until recently that my brother, Jase, finally mentioned that he had met him, and that set my curiosity off again.
However, I can’t even get a single word out of Jase either.
As meddling and intrusive as I could be at a young age, and even now, I’ve never found out anything on the mysterious Carson. No social media, no public records, not even a single reference photo.
And now here he is. Ever so dangerous and wickedly handsome.
“Nice to finally meet you, Alayna.” His deep, rich voice breaks through my thoughts, and his heated gaze feels like it’s burning a hole straight through me.
He is unabashedly dissecting every square inch of my body, just as fiercely as I was with his before. I feel exposed. Almost like he’s stripping me naked, causing a sudden heat to rise over me.
He sensually runs his thumb over his lip as he drinks me in. I stand completely rooted to the floor, not daring to move a single muscle. The hold he has on me at the moment is unsettling, but I can’t help but to relish in the way he is looking at me.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been under intense scrutiny by many men and women, but nothing compared to this. Being the principessa to a beloved mob boss, the judgment comes naturally. Yet, the deep, penetrating gaze that Carson has on me is something I am definitely not used to. It’s different. It displays a slight eeriness, almost like he wants to rip me open and expose not only my body, but all of my soul, as well. Every dirty and hidden secret inside of it.
I know I’m in trouble once our eyes lock again, and his hold the look of a promise. A promise I don’t think I ever want to find out.
Feeling a bit overwhelmed, I decide I need to regain the upper hand in this situation. No man, no matter how good-looking they are, is going to make my careful composure slip.
I am a principessa for the world’s most powerful Italian mafia, for Christ’s sake, and I need to star
t acting like one.
“Nice to meet you, as well, Carson.” I confidently speak with a smirk working its way across my lips. “However, I’m sure you are well aware of me, considering how long you’ve known my father.” My father’s eyes narrow slightly, but I continue anyway. “You told him about me, right, Dad? Or was I just as anonymous as him?”
My father clenches his jaw, “Of course, I did. Isn’t that right, Carson?”
Yes, sir,” Carson replies, closing the door behind him. He looks at me with a devilish grin as he brushes past me and moves farther into the room. It produces a feeling deep within my core and I could feel my pulse quicken in response to it.
He knows exactly what I am playing at and obviously enjoys my attempt of trying to regain the upper hand.
I don’t let it deter me.
“Well, that’s a bit shocking, seeing as I’ve heard next to nothing about you.” I walk over to my father’s desk and take a seat on the edge, folding my arms across my chest, challenging him again. At this angle, I have a better view of him, and I know he won’t dare try to drill me with his eyes again with my father being this close.
He moves with purpose toward the liquor cart in the corner and pours himself a drink, removing himself from my direct line of vision.
“I preferred it that way, and your father respected that,” he answers, fixing himself a glass of scotch and taking a seat right in front of me. I don’t falter by his close proximity, but it isn’t until he brings the glass to his lips with a cocked brow that read challenge accepted, that I nearly buckle.
I hold my tongue and begrudgingly take a seat next to him, feeling slightly defeated. I will not let you get to me, Granvil. No matter how good-looking… and sexy… and mysterious… and… shit, Alayna! So not helping your case!
A creaking sound from my father’s seat interrupts any further, unwanted thoughts, as he leans back in his chair and crosses both of his feet on top of his desk. “I assume the last job went well, yes, son?” he asks Carson, changing the subject.