DanteI slump against the passenger’s seat, fighting for breath as Tony drives us back through the city streets. Standing up for a few minutes felt like running a goddamn marathon, and I can’t forget the burning in my chest anymore. Tony glances at me in the rearview mirror but doesn’t say anything. He said enough on the ride over.As soon as he told me Eleni shot Uncle John, I was on my feet. When he told me it was the same day everything went down with Luca, I put together a picture in my head. I expected her to be grieving, just trying to hold the pieces together. Instead, she doubled her kill count in a single day. The Eleni I met in The Greek Corner, the one who glowed while telling me about the after-hours gyros, would’ve broken down. That’s the Eleni I was racing for when I hurried out of Domino’s apartment while his wife yelled for me to lay back down.But as we drove to the house for a change of clothes and then where Eleni was “working,” a new story took shape. A hardened,
EleniThe next morning, I wake up on a wide, soft mattress and immediately reach for where I’ve been plugging my phone in, on my right. My hand swipes through empty air. Right. Fuck. Dante came home last night and took his room back. Since I moved the bed frame out of my old bedroom to make my office, I couldn’t even sleep there. I’m just somewhere in his massive house.I scrub my eyes and sit up. My laptop shifts on the end of the bed, and I sigh. I stayed up late last night as usual, and now the red eye flight I have planned is going to suck. I climb out of bed, drop my laptop in my office, and head downstairs to make coffee. No point in changing out of the thin, oversized T-shirt I’ve been wearing to bed. I have nothing to hide from Dante, and he’s the only one here.The coffeemaker dings as I set foot on the first level. He must’ve woken up before me. I’ll just grab a cup and go. There’s nothing left to talk about. Just a few hours of packing, and then I’m on my way back to Mama.
DanteI wake up in a third-string guest bedroom already pissed. The sun is coming in at an angle that tells me I’ve already slept later than I meant to, but my alarm clock is in my fucking room, which was too covered in crap to sleep in. Today is the day Eleni’s leaving. She made it very clear she doesn’t want anything else to do with me, and I’m inclined to give her that. The woman who marched out of my bedroom last night was someone I’d never seen before. I thought, for a split second, that I could still find Eleni underneath, but I think she died with Luca at that warehouse.Domino’s wife told me I should still spend most of my days resting, but if I lay around anymore, I’m going to get bedsores. I shuffle out of bed, gritting my teeth against the nearly overwhelming pain in my chest, and head down the hall toward my bedroom. I couldn’t carry more than one set of clothes last night, and like an idiot, I picked pajamas.I pass the door to Eleni’s bedroom. Slightly ajar. A little of
EleniThat night, I stride into Piacere half an hour before Gianna’s shift. I’ve been avoiding her all day because I think she’s the only one with a chance of talking me out of this. Half an hour shouldn’t be long enough, though, and I made sure one of Gianna’s favorite customers was here tonight, to keep her from delaying her shift to talk to me. It’s funny coming back here, though, especially alone. The first time I walked through these doors, I had no idea what they were going to mean to me. I had to beg my way past the bouncer instead of nodding and greeting him by name. I had to look around like a lost duckling instead of marching to the back, where I know the strippers’ dressing room is. I didn’t even know what scotch tasted like.Now, I don’t think I’ll ever drink scotch again.I push into the dressing room. Two of the other dancers, Sabrina and Crystal, sit at the mirrors already in costume.“Hey guys,” I say.“Hi, Eleni,” they chorus.Crystal turns to face me and jiggles he
DanteI slide into a booth at La Dolce Vita, an Italian restaurant I haven’t been to since before Frank Lombardi killed my father and inhale the garlicky air.“Good, right?” Tony sits next to me. “I’ve been all over this place the last two weeks.”I shoot him a look. “I’ve been all over whatever the hell Domino’s wife saw fit to feed me. Do you know what that is, by the way?”“Yeah, I think she prefers a diet of ‘shut up, it saved your life,’ just like in the old country.” Tony picks up a menu. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”As if to prove his point, my chest burns.“Yes,” I say. “And whether I’m ready or not, I have to get back into the game. She’s leaving tonight.”Tony grunts noncommittally, thankfully pulling me away from the attendant ache of that statement.“What? I thought you’d be throwing her a going away party.”He shrugs just as a waitress walks up to the table.“What can I get you guys to drink?” she asks.Tony looks up at her slowly, emphasizing his blue eyes in a
EleniI yank on the stubborn zipper of my suitcase to no avail. It won’t shut. I release with a sigh, and the top flops open to reveal the picture of Dante and Christos I stole from his room. I swallow. I know stealing it is stupid. I don’t really know either man in this picture. But it just feels wrong, leaving this image behind in the shadow of what happened here.I want to remember them like this. Innocent and young, before the Mafia pulled them under. I don’t have any pictures of myself. Mom packed those up and took them with her to Greece. I wonder if I’d even recognize the girl I used to be.My phone vibrates, and I curse. That’s my ten-minute alarm. If I’m not in the car on the way to JFK by the time the last one goes off, I’m going to miss my flight. Gianna convinced me to talk to Dante, but he’s making it a hell of a lot harder by not being here. For lack of anything better to do, I grab a pack of the sticky notes I’ve started going through like water and attempt to write a
EleniI stand behind the chair on the opposite side of Dante’s desk and watch him, shirt thankfully buttoned again, ease himself onto the smooth red leather of the boss’ seat. Part of me wants to run out of the room before he opens his mouth. I made up my mind. I’m leaving. I don’t need to say anything to him other than “goodbye,” no matter what Gianna said. But another part of me just keeps thinking of that first day, when I didn’t know whether he was alive or dead, and I came down here looking for answers. Anything that could explain why he killed Christos.He's offering me those answers now. With Mama on the other side of a plane ride to Greece, I would be stupid not to take them. No matter what else, I couldn’t face her knowing I could have told her what happened to her baby and refused.“Sit,” Dante says. “Or are you more used to the view from this side of the desk now?”His smile is an olive branch. He wants to have the conversation peaceably.I throw myself down in the empty ch
EleniI gape at Dante. Christos asked him not to tell us? Why wouldn’t he want us to know he was dead?“Why should I believe you?” I say, clinging to the last vestiges of the shell I’ve built up.He drops back into his seat. “That’s your question to answer. I’ve told you everything I know. I was just keeping a promise.”My anger burns away my grief. “Keeping a promise? You lied to me, Dante. You let me—sleep with you, and you hid this from me.”“I took his body out with the rest of our men,” he says like I didn’t speak. “Tony and I buried him upstate. I buried him, my friend, with my own fucking hands. I can show you, if you want.”I slam my hands down on his desk. “Are you listening to me? What the hell made you think that would help? I’m leaving in the fucking morning.”“That’s your choice,” he says evenly. “But you should know this isn’t a life people just get to walk away from.”“Is that a threat?”He meets my gaze. “It’s a promise. You have a reputation after these last two weeks