EleniI blink awake and discover someone removed the bag from my head. I lie on a scratchy couch in what looks like someone’s wood-paneled basement, still wearing my sweatshirt and nightgown. A single lightbulb battles against the dark, but it barely reaches the walls. I suck in a breath, and the musty scent of underground combines with just a hint of the metallic stench I remember from the apartment.The apartment. Where I left Baba dead. Mama isn’t here, so at least they haven’t caught her yet. Or they killed her too. Tears fill my eyes, and I lift a hand to swipe them away.Both of my hands move, accompanied by the sharp bite of plastic. I look down. Someone zip-tied my wrists together. And my ankles.
DanteI stare down at Eleni, bloody, bruised, and half-covered. Rage lights in my veins, something deeper and truer than I’ve felt before. I knew Frank Lombardi was scum. I’ve touched enough blood that he spilled to never question that. But violating Eleni like this is something new. It’s the end of the goddamn line for him.She stares up at me, and the confusion in her wide, blue eyes morphs slowly into fear. “Dante? Wh-why are you here?”Fuck. I never want to scare her. I kneel and snap out my switchblade. She flinches, but I can’t do anything about that. I slit the zip ties around her ankles, fix her skirt, then hold out my hands for her wrists, struggling to keep my movements slow and calming.
EleniI stare blankly out the window of the sports car Dante poured me into, watching the city whip by. If Dante wanted to kill me, he would have by now, right? He wouldn’t bother taking me to a secondary location. My body would blend in with the others covering the floor of the auto shop he whisked me out of. Anyway, he was right. He bought me at the auction. I belong to him. I knew I should never have left without paying my debts.The gory images I saw on our way out whisk through my mind. The scent of blood teases my nostrils. I know I should feel bad about what I did to Frank, but when I think about the blood, I can only think about Baba, his pained scream. And I can’t really think about any of it. So, I stare out the window.We pause at
EleniWe pull up to a gated neighborhood—a tall gate, but not one that looks particularly sturdy or difficult to climb, and Dante waves a plastic card at a man sitting in a booth outside. The man smiles and presses a button to open the gate. I expected Dante to have security, but I didn’t expect his security to look like a rent-a-cop. I frown as he drives inside.The houses past the gate shock me even further. They’re bigger than the apartment Mama, Baba, Christos, and I shared, bigger than anything I’ve seen in the city, but they still look…normal. Two stories. A few big, dramatic windows here and there, but only on a few of the houses. Sizable yards, but not big enough for anything more than a nice patio and a swing set. And there are more houses than I thought, too. A couple dozen,
EleniI rip all the slices of onion off my face while looking at Mama.“Go,” she says, impressing on me with her eyes that I’m not to make the boss who’s house we’re standing in upset. “I’ll get the ‘zucchini balls’ finished for you.”I stand and join Dante in the doorway. He immediately steps into the hall, then leads me deeper into the house than I’ve been before. Now, having been in the kitchen, I can see the touches of opulence everywhere. That blue-and-white vase on an end table is probably antique. The plush carpet we pad over is probably from overseas. The leather chair in a nook is probably real.A door opens ahead of us, and I jump back a step as a beautiful woman in matching leggings and a sports bra steps out. Her long, pitch-black hair curls nearly to her waist, and her dark eyes are emphasized by smoky shadow.“Oh, sorry.” She kisses Dante on the cheek.
DanteI step into the basement beneath Piacere and shut the door behind me. Flickering fluorescents light the racks and racks of liquor, spare stool, and coils of velvet rope. To the unknowing eye, the perfectly legal basement of a perfectly legal club owner. I snort and head for the third alcohol shelf from the left on the far wall, then rap on the metal I can just reach through the glimmering glass bottlenecks. After a brief pause, the whole section of wall swings aside, and I cross into the real basement.Here, the lights are brilliant and steady. Only the best for my men. Clean, crisp metal lines the walls and the floor. Easy to clean. Hard to escape quietly over. Tony pushes the button to send the decoy rack careening back into place.“Took you long enough.” He wipes the back of his hand over his forehead, and I see blood over his fingernails. “Not that the bastard’s broken yet.”I nod. My shoes click against the
EleniI roll over and tug on the heavy blankets covering the king bed Mama and I decided to share. They don’t move, and Mama’s light snores issue through the darkness. She’s finally fallen asleep. Part of me is thankful, and the rest wishes I had enough blankets to cover myself. As soon as she finished the zucchini balls, she collapsed into one of the tall seats at the kitchen island, weeping. I’ve been at her side, holding her and offering her toilet paper because I couldn’t find tissues, since. Exhaustion still drags off my limbs, reminding me that I haven’t really gotten a good night’s sleep since the night before the auction, but I can’t sleep. I just keep thinking of the smell of blood, and the stories about Baba Mama kept trying to tell through her tears.With a sigh, I push the covers off and climb out of bed. I didn’t take Dante up on his offer of new clothes, but two new nightgowns appeared on the end of the bed between when Mama and I picked it, and when we finally decided t
EleniMy stomach drops to my toes. Dante prowls away from the door toward me. I’ve really messed up now.“Do you always break the rules laid out for you?” he asks.I swallow. There’s a growl in his voice, but it doesn’t sound angry. It tingles down my spine and warms something in my gut. I’m suddenly very aware that I’m in a nightgown again, and while this one is soft, it is nearly as thick as my old one.“Not until recently,” I manage.Something lights in his eyes. “You know, there are punishments for disobeying me in my house.”He is a boss. I should be dropping everything in my hands and sprinting away. My heart pounds in that same place in my gut.I take a step closer to him with my chin high. “What kind of punishment can I expect then?”His eyes flame. He’s only a few inches away now, so close that I could reach out and grab h
*Tatiana*Okay, fuck, that does sound like a genuine threat. He’s definitely not new to any of this, and he’s used to stubborn people like me. He’s probably faced worse in his years in the mafia, assuming he’s from another syndicate. Judging by the way his eyes are hungry for information, I doubt he’s just a normal person Oleg owes money to or had a bad business deal with.Lev taught me how to hold on during an interrogation as long as I could in several of our lessons in the past, but he never really tortured me while doing so. How am I supposed to act when the real deal is actually happening? I thought I was prepared for this, but maybe I’m not?Am I ready for this man to cut my skin, hold my head under water, pull my nails out of my fingers, and all the dreadful things these people are known for doing? How long until I break?Panic creeps through me again, and I realize I need a plan B before I lose the grip on my self-control and have to start pleading for my life. I don’t wanna
*Tatiana*I feel like I must’ve gotten run over by a truck. My head is pounding so hard, I feel like vomiting, but even so, I force my eyes to open. There’s no light here except for a dim stream coming through a tiny window near the top of the wall in front of me, so it’s difficult for my eyes to adapt.There are strands of hair in front of my eyes and face, and when I lift my hand to push them aside, I realize my wrists are tied behind my back in what feels like a very thick, tight rope. My legs are also strapped to the chair, both my ankles tied. I can barely move.Panic starts creeping through me as I realize what’s going on. Images of the recent events flash through my mind, making me remember how I ended up here, wherever I am.I look from one side to the other, taking in my surroundings. Even though it’s dark and humid here, I spot some tools and boxes that make me think this has to be a basement. The place is quiet, and there seems to be no one around, although I doubt they’d l
*Angelo*“I’ve got her,” I inform the rest of my men who are all wearing earpieces. “I’m taking her to the car.”“Roger that,” Dice replies right away. “We’ll meet you there.”I toss the woman’s limp body over my shoulder and step out of the alley, ignoring the curious and frightened stares I receive from pedestrians bustling by on the street.The SUV is parked in front of the deli, and when Sal spots me, he climbs from behind the wheel and rushes to open the back door for me. I place the woman in the back seat—carefully, even though I don’t need to be—and go around to the other side so I can sit beside her. I buckle us both in and wait for the others to load up.Even though I knocked her out, and she probably won’t wake up in the next few hours, I still need to keep a close eye on her, just in case she wakes up and tries some funny business. I’ll watch her the entire way until we’re out of this part of the city and safe in our territory where we’re less likely to be attacked.“That w
*Tatiana*Getting someone to help me proves to be an almost impossible task, even once I wander into a populated area of New York City.I know literally no one in this city, and it’s not like I can trust anyone. While I’m fairly certain my adoptive parents had allies here, I have no fucking idea who they are or how to find them. Oleg must have eyes and ears everywhere, so it makes me hesitant to approach anyone.But in this dress, I’m an easy target for anyone who might be helping him. New York is a crazy place, but I’m probably the only woman in a bloody, ripped-up wedding gown on the streets today. If the mob doesn’t get to me, the police certainly will.My stomach is beginning to ache from the knot that formed in there weeks ago, but I force myself to take deep breaths. At least I’m able to hold back my tears–for now. My whole life turned upside down in a blink of an eye, and having to suppress my feelings so I don’t show my weakness to Oleg and Yakov has taken its toll on me.Pic
TatianaHow the hell am I supposed to escape this place when I have no fucking idea where I am? Running toward the back of the chapel seemed to make the most sense to me since the fighting is all happening at the front–at least for now–so I sprint toward the door the priest likely used and pray it’s unlocked.Thankfully, it is. I slam through it, looking around to ascertain if there’s any danger here. I see the priest huddled in the corner and almost roll my eyes. Hiking my skirt up, I take off toward a door I believe has to be an exit.“You shouldn’t go that!” he shouts. “They’re out there, too!”But my momentum carries me through the door before I can think, and I nearly run into a couple of Oleg’s men who are defending the back entryway against what appears to be another syndicate, one of the many groups of enemies Oleg has accumulated over the years, no doubt.“How the fuck did they find us?” one of the men in front of me shouts to the other in a thick Russian accent. I just have
*Tatiana*A tacky, overly poofy white gown hangs on the back of the bathroom door next to the full-length mirror. I take a deep breath and drag a hand down my face. How the fuck am I getting out of this?I hoped I’d have more time to escape, but this day has come more quickly than anticipated, and now, here I am. The fuckers got me to the church on time.“What do you think?” one of the maids who will be helping me get dressed asks, a timid smile on her face.Arching an eyebrow, I say, “I think I’d be better suited to black.”She laughs nervously and pulls the fancy frock down off the hanger. I have to assume this contraption cost thousands of dollars and was designed by one of New York’s biggest names in fashion.It’s a death trap to me.It would look so much better with a spray of vomit across the front.Telling myself I need to focus, I listen to the maids prattle on about how they’re going to do my hair and makeup and other such bullshit I couldn’t care less about.“This dress is m
*Tatiana*I spend most of my time in “my” room. Images of my parents bleeding out fill my mind, whether I’m awake or asleep. Even sitting by the window, staring out at the serene garden behind the mansion, I can’t shake the overwhelming sadness and revulsion that fills my body with every shuddering breath I inhale.No one comes into my room except for the maids–and that’s a good thing. When I have to see Oleg again, it will be all I can do to keep from lunging at him and trying to take him out right now. I will kill him–but I can’t be impulsive, or I’ll spoil my chance. Something tells me he won’t hesitate to kill me if he feels it’s necessary, regardless of all of his plans for me.No, I need to bide my time. Lie in wait. Strike when the timing is right.When I’m not picturing my parents’ pale bodies sitting in those chairs, I imagine what it will be like to kill him. That’s the only time I allow myself a bit of happiness, a small smile, when I think about what it will be like to hav
*Tatiana*As soon as the plane touches down at JFK airport, a wave of anxiety washes over me. This is my first time leaving my home country of Russia. I’ve spent my entire life looking over my shoulder, waiting for my asshole uncle, Oleg Romina, to show up and finish the job he started twenty years ago when he murdered my parents in cold blood. Now, he’s summoned the only parents I’ve ever known, Lev and Ilya Ivanov, to return to America. I insisted they bring me along, but as we deboard the plane, a sense of unease settles into my chest.My biological father, Petr Romina, used to be the boss of the Romina Empire, a smaller Russian mob that has territory in several countries, including New York where Oleg resides. When I was old enough to understand the kind of life our family used to have, Lev and Illya told me the truth about my parents’ deaths. My mother was my dad’s mistress, and when Oleg learned that they were planning on getting married, his greed made him murder both of them,
*Angelo*Sweat drips from my forehead into my eyes as I run through the streets, in too much of a hurry to even consider finding a car or waiting for someone to come and pick me up. Traffic would only slow me down, and I can’t afford to lose a single second.My heart beats so fast that my chest hurts. My legs grow weak as I try to push forward, shoving away the worst case scenarios in my head. I force my lungs to take in as much air as possible because I certainly need it.More than that, I need to be able to focus. I can’t risk making a single mistake. The streets are empty, proving everyone that says that New York City never sleeps wrong.I round a corner and see my final destination–but I’m too late.The air is thick with the smell of gunpowder and blood. Several bodies litter the ground. I step over them, afraid to look down in case I recognize some of them. I can guarantee the person I’m looking for doesn’t lie among them.Some of the Saints men arrive right after me. I was nea