I was led to his study, ushered inside, and the door slammed shut behind us. It left me alone in the room with Alberto who kept his back turned to me from his seat, with his legs perched on the windowsill. It looked as if he had been taking in the night air, but now the window was closed - probably to prevent any risk of me finding a way to jump out of it.
“They tell me you have something to say...in regards to your father?” He asked curiously, still without turning around.
“More or less.” I swallowed and cleared my throat, which had become dry from barely speaking since I arrived days ago. “I was hoping...that you could help me. Or more so that I might help you. Both really.”
“What are you babbling on about, woman?” he growled, finally standing from his seat to make himself another drink. I noticed his eyes looking me up and down as he stomped across the room. “And what does this have to do with your father?”
I reminded myself of everything I had been practicing in my head since the day before. “He doesn’t know,” I said quietly, drawing my eyes and hands down to my bulging stomach. “I left home so he wouldn’t find out. What you said in the car...you were right. I don’t know who the father is. I have disgraced my family. I may deserve whatever happens to me, but please give me some chance at redemption.”
He cut his eyes over with a smug smile, seeming pleased that I told him his suspicions were correct. “What chance at redemption do I have to offer you?”
“Time. Just give me more time and perhaps, a chance to earn my own way...before sending me back out there to face him. I’m not sure what you have planned for me, but if it hasn’t been decided...I was hoping you might give me a job. Once the baby is born, and I have saved a little money, I could go back to my father’s house more dignified than I am today.”
He laughed heartily. “You think after paying to save your ass I would turn around and pay you even more money? If you did any labor around here, it would be in exchange for room and board and even that’s being generous.”
“I understand,” I nodded my head diminutively. “That would be more than fair. Anything to save me from having to face my father. Please, Alberto. For all of the bad blood between your family and mine...surely you can appreciate the position it had put me in. I certainly appreciate the fact that someone like my father could never take pity on a tainted woman like myself. Only someone like you could find it in your heart to do that.”
I didn’t know if anything I was saying was true. I could only assume that the reason Alberto took pity on me in the first place was because he related to the unborn life he thought was growing in my womb. Maybe he had known other women like me. Whatever his seedy life had dealt to him, he had a soft spot for someone in my position. And it had to thrill him to know he could offer me something I claimed my father could not.
He was silent and stern for a long time, thinking it over. After a while, he ordered me to go back to my room without giving me an answer. But the following morning, a woman from the kitchen came to collect me, ordering me to put on an apron and follow her every direction. It seemed something I said to Alberto had worked.
They gave me a job in the kitchen - peeling potatoes, chopping vegetables, and any other meal prep that was suitable for a pregnant woman to do. I kept my head down the first few days, taking care to do everything perfectly. I couldn’t try anything right off the bat. I knew they’d be watching me heavily at first.
After the first week, I seemed to fade into the background. The other workers seemed less suspicious of me and were starting to let their guards down. Late one afternoon as we started preparing for dinner, there was a fuss in the garden over missing crops. Accusations were being thrown around and it pulled most of the staff out of the kitchen. It was the perfect opportunity for me to have a look around.
In a corridor not far from the kitchen, I found a locked door. I ran my finger across the hole and did my best to memorize what size and shape of a key might fit. It took a couple more days for me to manage to grab hold of a spare set of keys that were kept in the maid’s quarters. The metal ring held several keys that seemed like they might fit.
The head kitchen staff had told me that it would be improper for a pregnant woman with no serving experience to be fumbling around in the dining room. So, once I was trusted enough to not be watched constantly, I was left alone in the kitchen each evening as the others helped serve dinner to Alberto and his men. It was especially chaotic in the evenings when they were entertaining guests or having a very formal meal. On those frequent occasions, I was forgotten about all together until it was time for me to return to my room.
One night when they were throwing a dinner party, likely for other gangsters like themselves I imagined, I took it as my chance to sneak away and try the set of keys. Just as I had thought, one of them clicked in and turned, opening the door. It opened to a dark set of stairs. I grabbed a candle from one of the tables in the hallway and used it to light the way. They led me to a huge basement filled with barrels and boxes filled to the brim with fine wines, oils, and other luxuries including jewelry and furs. There was even a classic car half uncovered in one of the far corners.
Why would they keep all of these fine things locked away out of sight? Someone like Alberto would want to show off all of his lavish possessions...unless, of course, they were not being declared to the government.
With the faintest sound of footsteps, I bolted back up the stairs and locked the door before returning to my post just in time. No sooner than I got back, the kitchen doors swung open and I could see Pablo Milano eyeing me from the parlor. It was a reminder to be careful.
But once I had the taste of uncovering evidence, I wanted more. Before anyone could really take notice of me standing back in my corner of the kitchen, I quickly and quietly slipped out the back door leading to the garden.
It was dark enough that I knew I could get away before anyone would see me. I decided that when I returned, I could say I thought I saw someone outside, but got lost when I went to investigate. It wasn’t the most solid plan, but I knew I was onto something with the Milanos. I couldn’t stop now. I was finding the proof against them that my father and I had been after for years.
Once I was in the clear, I ran out to the stables and saddled up a horse. I wanted to ride around the property and see what else I might find to incriminate them. Maybe a whole garage with more things like what that basement held? No matter what it was, I was determined to make my father proud and bring Alberto Milano down.
I climbed onto the horse, doing my best to remember everything I had learned in the few lessons my father had been able to afford as a child. But before my feet could fully settle into the stirrups, gunshots rang out from inside the house. I jumped, assuming someone had noticed my escape and was coming after me with a gun. My alarm wasn’t as nearly as bad as the horse’s, though. He immediately reared back and took off in a mad dash across the property, nearly bucking me off.
5
Alberto
With my encouragement, our guests had excused themselves to check out one of the expansive balconies of the manor, leaving Felix, Pablo, and myself alone again. We needed to discuss how things were going and make sure we were on the right track to winning our audience over.
It was shaping up to be a successful evening of business connections as we entertained several real estate owners like ourselves from the area. When it came to struggling shop owners in the city, it was easy to bully them into letting us offer protection over their businesses for a fee. But when it came to more upstanding moguls or tycoons, we had to persuade them more skillfully. We would have them over for a fancy dinner and fine wines. We’d charm them with our jokes and stories.
They were just excited to wine and dine with the famed Milanos, rumored to be wealthy gangsters. And by the end of it, they were thrilled to accept our gifts of rare imports as trades for other commodities they could offer us in return. Considering that we never gave them a pinch of anything we didn’t a
lready have buckets of, they were getting the stiff end of the bargain. If they knew that, they didn’t care. They were just thrilled to have the scandalous affiliation with us that they could brag about to their square friends, or to use as intimidation to anyone who tried to cross them.
“I do get tired of all this ass-kissing,” Felix lamented to me once our guests were out of sight.
“It is a necessary evil,” I reminded him.
“I prefer bullying our way into people’s favor...like we do with the poor ones in the city. At least they maintain a healthy fear of us. These people...They come into our homes and drink our wine. We laugh with them...pretend to be friends with them. It makes them too comfortable. They don’t know what we’re capable of. It makes them less trustworthy.”
“Ah, but see what they’re too afraid to admit is what they have heard about us from their rich friends. They know what we’re capable of, believe me. Our reputation speaks for itself.”
Pablo groaned and shook his head. “It’s all so fake. And exhausting.”
Pablo and Felix were all about brawn over brains. They liked busting into places and showing what big, strong men they were. They didn’t have the patience for charming people by wit or playing along with the politics of high society. I preferred a more calculated approach.
“Don’t forget that when someone like Don Martino makes an accusation against us, the only thing we have on our side are the detectives we pay for. Then it comes down to the judges. And who’s friends with the judges?” I stood to refill my drink, hating that I had to explain all of this yet again. “Those people out there on our balcony. The more of them that are indebted to us or that have some kind of soft spot for us...the more of your kind of work we can get away with.”
The servers’ kitchen doors swung open as Pablo and Felix pretended not to listen to or understand what I was saying. They didn’t have to like it, but they knew I was right.
I could see Pablo’s eyes glaring at something in the kitchen before he turned to me and said with a smug smile, “Speaking of Don Martino, I see his daughter has made herself right at home here.”
It was a typical tactic of theirs. They couldn’t change the reality of what I was telling them, so instead, they chose to challenge me on something else they might hold more traction on.
“I gave her a job,” I huffed. “She’s treated just the same as any other staff member, if not more strictly so. The other workers don’t like her. I assure you she’s not having a good time.”
“Still, it’s awfully kind treatment for a prisoner,” Felix scoffed in agreement with Pablo.
“She’s not a prisoner. More like a slave. I’m not even paying her.”
“A pregnant slave?” Pablo chortled. “You’re almost convincing enough to fool me into thinking you’re just as cold-hearted and ruthless as your reputation claims. But, no. I know the truth...which is that you’ve always had a thing for Don Martino’s precious daughter. It would be the ultimate revenge for you, wouldn’t it? To stake claim over his most prized possession?”
I rubbed my fingers around the bridge of my nose, feeling tired with their constant attempts at bickering with me. That was the downside of working with your brothers.
“Maybe at one time that would have been a fun scenario. But look at her now,” I nodded toward the kitchen doors with disgust. “She’s ruined. Knocked up...doesn’t even know who the father is.”
“Maybe that’s ideal!” he teased, trying my patience. “You’ve always had a phobia of children. Perhaps the solution is to not be the one creating them!” The two of them erupted in laughter. “I can see it now...ol’ step-dad Alberto!”
I didn’t let my anger show through on my face. I stayed perfectly still and composed, letting them howl on in laughter like banshees. But once it had gone on long enough, I stood very calmly and in one swift movement pulled my pistol from its holster and fired it at the ceiling. Pablo and Felix flinched and kept their eyes closed for a long time, as if they expected to be shot dead right there on the spot.
“I am no more afraid of creating life than I am of taking it,” I stated plainly with a grin. That’s when our guests came rushing back into the room, white as ghosts. They hadn’t seen what happened, and they did their best to play it off. They pretended not to notice the smoke lingering in the air or the newly added holes in the ceiling, joining a myriad of old ones.
“Ah! Friends!” I greeted them warmly, as if nothing had happened. “So good of you to join us again! Did you enjoy the view from the balcony?”
“Uh...yes...quite impressive,” one of them stammered.
“Splendid. Well, have a seat. Let me get you another round of drinks.”
I let them settle in and slowly forget about the gun that had obviously been fired. They dared not ask what happened while they were gone, but every so often their eyes would glance around to the corners of the room as if they expected to see a body lying there. These sorts of unanswered questions only worked to our advantage. It kept them on edge. It helped ease all of Pablo and Felix’s worries. These people would appear to be our friends, but deep down they knew who we were, and they knew better than to cross us.
“So, I am very interested in this property we discussed earlier,” I leaned forward to say after a while, once everyone appeared somewhat calm again. “If it’s not currently in use, I would love to take it off your hands. I have a few uses in mind for it. Or, if nothing else, I would like to resale it eventually. I am in the market for real estate to flip.”
“I’m sure everyone is eager to own something that once belonged to a Milano,” one of the men offered graciously. “But...I’m afraid the government is purchasing the land. They’re having it rezoned as a nature preserve. A rare species of something-something...ah, I really can’t remember what they were rambling on about. I don’t really care so long as they pay me. But the paperwork has already been started. Perhaps the other strip of land on the north…”
“No,” I waved abruptly. “I have no interest in that one.” I slid over to whisper into Pablo’s ear to confirm my plan, and he nodded in agreement. “We have connections to the wildlife conservation board,” I smiled. “Speaking of which, I’m sure you’ve heard of my expansive hunting grounds, which I’d love to show you in person some time. Anyway, I’m sure we can put a stop to the pending sale if it could be promised to us instead. We’ll top their price, of course.”
He looked skeptical but didn’t seem too keen on opposing me. “Well, wonderful.”
“Wonderful indeed! As soon as the sale is finalized we’ll take that hunting trip! One of my ranges is rampant with water buffalo and wild boar this time of year.”
The man’s interests peaked, but quickly faded again. “Oh, but they are out of season right now…”
“You’ll find we do have a number of liberties many don’t when it comes to little things...like restrictions on hunting big game. I’ve never taken too kindly to the government telling me what to do on my own property. That’s when those wildlife conservation connections come in handy,” I explained casually, popping my knuckles as I spoke.
“I’ve heard about some of your hunting properties,” another man chimed in. “But is it true that they are shared with the Mendoza’s?” With this, every head in the room turned towards me. “You’ve been too welcoming and generous with us, Mr. Milano. But I think I speak for everyone when I say I want no affiliation with the Mendoza’s.”
I took a sip of my drink and cleared my throat. “Affiliation isn’t the same as an endorsement. Do I share some land with the Mendoza’s? Yes. But other than that, we couldn’t be more separate. I don’t condone their actions any more than you do.”
They were a ruthless band of criminals, but they were also blood relatives - a fact which I kept well hidden. Our closest affiliation to them was through our half brothers, Julian and Javier, who mediated and drifted between our two rival gangs. We kept our distance with a peace treaty to stay out of each other’s business. Th
ey could commit whatever kinds of crimes they wanted to, as long as it didn’t interfere with our business and our names weren’t drugged through the mud along with theirs.
I could see Pablo and Felix fidgeting. Part of me always suspects they would rather go off to run rampant with the Mendoza’s, but even they were too civilized for those brutes.
“Well,” he considered my reply carefully. “I suppose there’s no harm in a little hunting. I have a few shared properties myself, and who knows if all of those connections are wholesome,” he decided in laughter. His associates followed suit, so the three of us joined in as well.
My stomach turned with all the fuss of the evening. None of it was so out of the ordinary. This was the life I was used to. Maybe it was Felix and Pablo’s prodding that had me feeling uneasy. I was already being too soft in giving Alicia the job and accommodations she begged for, but if doing so was going to cause the others to question my authority and the respect I demanded, something would have to change. She had thrown me off enough by appearing so suddenly in the market that day. Her only ticket to sticking around until that baby was born was staying hidden away without causing me any trouble.
An hour later, I had told a few of our guests about a special type of ammunition I had acquired that couldn’t be bought anywhere in Argentina. They were curious and asked to see a few of the shells. It was all a part of the game of shock and awe in impressing them, but none of them would ever be stupid enough to share too much of what they learned within the walls of my home.
I left them to go to the gun cabinet in one of my dens. As I pulled out the drawer and reached for the box, I noticed something fly by in the darkness outside. I squinted to take a closer look. Someone was on horseback, but the horse was galloping around erratically. I could see it was close to bucking the person off.
Sold To Mr. Milano (Evil Empires Book 1) Page 4