《Trapped in his End Game (Series)》


 1

    Daddy shoves me back inside my room when he hears noise near the entrance. Pounding fists, followed by the sound of snapping wood and my mother¡¯s screams. I want to dive under my covers. I feel safer under there. Hidden. It¡¯s what I usually do when I hear Mom and Dad shouting, but not tonight. Tonight, I can¡¯t look away.


    BAM.


    The door flies open and smacks against the side of the wall. I see Dad backing away into the kitchen as three dark shapes move inside swiftly, with purposeful strides. My heart hammers hard against my chest and I know that I should hide, I should run, but I can¡¯t. Something is about to happen-something that makes the screams catch in my throat. I¡¯m about to yell a useless warning.


    He grabs my father by the throat and holds a knife to his neck. They¡¯re shouting things-things that have been lost in memory. Everything¡¯s a confusing blur, except I remember well how Mom begged them.


    ¡°Please, don¡¯t kill him! He¡¯ll get the money!¡±


    At the word, ¡®kill,¡¯ I burst out of my hiding ce and confront the three, terrifying men. They¡¯re so bold that they don¡¯t even wear masks. Time twists their faces into grotesque masks. They look like cartoonish viins.


    ¡°Daddy!¡±


    My Daddy can barely speak with their hands wrapped around his throat. ¡°Adriana, go back inside.¡±


    He never says my full name. It¡¯s always ¡®Ade.¡¯ For some reason, I fix on that detail. I scream as one of them steps towards me, and the shrill sound makes the man holding Dad jump a little, and then a thin, red gash opens in his neck as the knife slices him.


    I¡¯m screaming and screaming. The blood is so dark, almost like syrup. It bubbles from his neck and he copses, grasping his neck as if he can¡¯t breathe. And-


    I jerk awake in my too-small bed, my heart pounding hard as graphic images burn in my head, as clear as they were thirteen years ago. My chest constricts until I feel I might pass out. Under the covers, I feel like a ten year old kid again. The covers stay over my head, even though I¡¯m boiling under the sheets and sweat has soaked through my t-shirt. I¡¯m shaking and the pain in my chest is sharp. I feel like I¡¯m going to die.


    You¡¯ve been through this before.


    Shaky breaths rattle through my lungs. My dorm room ispletely silent, save for Maria¡¯s snores next to me. She sounds like a freight train and I can¡¯t believe I slept through her racket, but I still wouldn¡¯t trade her presence for solitude. My head pounding, I grope in my sheets for my cell phone. 5am.


    I still see it. The gaping wound vomits blood. The color leaves his face, drains out of his neck. I can hear him with that horrible gasp as he looks straight at me, his blood soaking through my pajamas as I kneel next to him.


    I need a fucking drink.


    Fuck.


    I swipe my fingers over my eyes again and again.


    Stop crying. He died a long time ago.


    But I can¡¯t help it. Under the covers, I¡¯m still a kid. I can feel everything-I can even smell his blood.


    Under the covers, I wait hours until light filters through the blinds, illuminating the present. The yellow re washes over the nd walls around my side, over the cheap furniture and over the glossy posters on Maria¡¯s side and the dozens of photographs stered to the wall. There are no photos on my side, no parents or friends, or anything that might indicate I exist.


    I sometimes wish I didn¡¯t. I flip the cover over and breathe in air.


    Then I finally feel safe.


    * * *


    Finals week.


    It¡¯s only sophomore year, and I already feel overwhelmed. At my desk, I nurse a cup of piping hot coffee as Maria bounces in her chair next to me as her headphones st pop music. It¡¯s so loud that I can hear every syble. My head pounds as I turn to the sheet of paper on my desk with the list of prompts my professor could ask on the final.


    Describe Petrarchan conventions using the sos we¡¯ve studied this semester citing specific examples.


    Petrarchan conventions? My head swims as I try to remember what the hell that is. I flip through my notes, exhaustion and frustration building inside my chest. I should know this. I look outside the window, New York City¡¯s traffic rumbling below as young people walk down the streets in the brilliant sunshine. More than anything, I want to feel the sunshine on my skin instead of being cooped up in this dorm. After weeks of rain, it¡¯s the first nice day outside and I want to take a stroll through Central Park and go to my favorite pastry shop.


    ¡°How¡¯re you doing?¡± Maria slides her headphones around her neck and cranes her neck, looking at my desk.


    I gesture towards the nk piece of paper. ¡°Shitty. Taking this lit ss was a giant mistake.¡±


    Maria gets up, stretches, and opens the window. A nice breeze flows inside and she gazes out with her arms crossed.


    ¡°Beautiful day. Too bad.¡±


    ¡°God, it would be so nice to blow off studying and go to the park.¡±


    She turns around, grinning. ¡°We should blow off some steam. Get margaritas.¡±


    I nce at my watch. ¡°It¡¯s only eleven, you wino.¡±


    Maria picks up a pencil off her desk and throws it at me. ¡°Bitch! C¡¯mon, let¡¯s get a drink.¡±


    Sighing, I stare at the prompts. ¡°Wish I could.¡±


    Except I¡¯m t broke. Living the dream. Going to college at an Ivy League. This is what my life has been leading up to. I spent so many hours inmunity service. So many fucking pointless days scrubbing tables at the homeless shelter, and being the President of the Golden Key Society, and Italian Club, and swimmingpetitively while working part-time at a shit job. Hell, I had to work for years supporting my Mom before I could leave her clutches long enough to go to university.


    And I¡¯m still supporting her. No wonder I¡¯m miserable.


    I just keep asking myself-When am I going to have fun? Everyone always said that college was the best years of your life.


    So far, I¡¯m not feeling it.


    Whatever. I need to shoulder through thisst week of studying, and then I need to find a job for summer. My spirits sink even lower at the thought of flipping burgers all summer while everyone I know has the time of their lives barhopping in Manhattan, or hanging out at the beaches in Coney Ind. Maria¡¯s parents are paying for her to go to France with some of our friends.


    Bitterness rises in my throat like acid. I can¡¯t imagine going to France.


    I grab the stack of cards sitting on my right and I shuffle them eight different ways on my desk. The tension in my shoulders eases as the stic cards slip around my fingers effortlessly. I study their beautiful simplicity, the tiny printed hearts and spades.


    I leave the door open as I bring my shit into the living room, trying to tempt some sunlight inside. Maria joins me and sits on the couch, wearing her Juicy sweatpants-her bona-fide I-don¡¯t-give-a-fuck outfit.


    ¡°Wanna y a game?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not fun when you win all the time.¡±


    A smile twitches over my face as I remember all the tournaments I won in high school. When Texas Hold¡¯Em swept through my school, everyone yed cards.


    ¡°Oh,e on. Let¡¯s y. Ten dors a game.¡±


    She shakes her head.


    Lame.


    A guy walks past our dorm outside, looking inside briefly. He backtracks and stands in the doorway. I¡¯ve never seen him before. He has messy, dishwater blonde hair and his strangely warm gaze zeroes in on Maria.


    I roll my eyes.


    ¡°Hi.¡±


    ¡°Hey, want to y a game?¡±


    He grins reluctantly. ¡°You¡¯re that girl who holds poker tournaments, right?¡±


    My mouth twists into a nervous smile. Weeks ago I had the bright idea to ster flyers all over the dorms, inviting people to our room to hold tournaments. It turns out college kids are cheap as fuck and no one wanted to bet with actual money.


    ¡°Used to. The RA made us stop because we were too loud.¡± I smile widely. ¡°Come in! Let¡¯s y a game. Ten dors to start out.¡±


    He hesitates near the doorway, looking suddenly reluctant to meet my gaze. ¡°Nah, I¡¯m good. I have to study, anyway.¡±


    He¡¯s gone before I can even blink.


    Maria almost has her whole hand stuffed in her mouth trying not tough at me. ¡°You were a little too aggressive. You almost had him.¡±


    I blow out my cheeks. ¡°My reputation precedes me.¡±


    Frankly, it¡¯s the only thing I excel at. Cards and school. At school, I have to work hard. It¡¯s a daily struggle. Cards? Cards are fucking easy.


    It¡¯s really the only thing that brings me joy anymore.


    That and booze.


    My phone vibrates on my coffee table and I frown immediately as I lean over and recognize the number. Taking it in my hands, I let it ring a few more times before I answer.


    ¡°Hi, Mom.¡± I cringe at the sound of my weary voice.


    ¡°Adriana, I need to ask you a favor.¡±Content property of N?velDra/ma.Org.


    Straight to the point. Whatever could it be?


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re gonna cut off my electricity.¡±


    I sigh into the phone. How many times have I heard it? They¡¯re going to cut off my gas. It¡¯s the middle of December; I¡¯ll freeze to death. Do you want your mother to die? I can¡¯t pay my phone bill. My mortgage payment is due. I owe my friend two hundred dors.


    ¡°I can¡¯t keep doing this forever, Ma. I really can¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°What the big deal? I¡¯m just asking for eighty dors. Eighty bucks will cover it! You have your grants-¡±


    ¡°Those were supposed to be for my education,¡± I explode. ¡°Not to pay for your fuck-ups!¡±


    Maria whirls around to look at me with a raised eyebrow. She knows all about my mother. I wave her off.


    ¡°How dare you speak to your mother that way? After all these years and all I¡¯ve done for you. I cooked and cleaned everyday, washed yourundry-¡±


    I hold the phone a foot away from my ear, having heard the speech many times before. Yeah, I know. It¡¯s terrible to be disrespectful to your parents, but I¡¯ve had it.


    ¡°I¡¯ll send the money, but if you ever call me again asking for more, I¡¯ll hang up. No more, Mom.¡±


    I¡¯ve said, ¡°no,¡± so many times to her that it doesn¡¯t really sound like a word anymore. It has lost all meaning.


    Her sobs crackle through the speaker as she thanks me. She wouldn¡¯t know what to do without me. She loves me. She knows she¡¯s a terrible, terrible mother. And she is. But it still pulls at my heartstrings, even though she¡¯s pulled this act so many fucking times, I can¡¯t count.


    I know how much money I have in my bank ount, down to everyst dime. And the eighty dors that subtracts from it, the eighty I will have to budget around this month, eats at me like a disease.


    ¡°Ade,¡± Maria begins delicately, ¡°you know that you can borrow from me any time.¡±


    I blister at the suggestion. I will never be my mother. ¡°Thanks, but I¡¯m fine.¡±


    Her doubtful eyes look away from me. She bites her lip as I gather all the cards back into my hands.


    What a great way to start the day.

 2

    My brain is fried, but at least it¡¯s all over.


    I saunter up to the professor¡¯s desk and p my little blue book on the small pile, raising my fist in the air as I celebrate the end of myst final. Right beside the blue books is a gilded pen I¡¯ve been admiring all semester, and I swipe it quietly, savoring the small thrill. Once I leave, I stuff the pen away along with the shame burning in my chest.


    Fucking klepto.


    It¡¯s almost four o¡¯ clock, and I feel my phone vibrating in my purse with Maria¡¯s call. As I open the door to the bustling hallway, I p the phone against my ear.


    ¡°How was it?¡±


    ¡°All right. I¡¯m just d it¡¯s over.¡± I make a bone-cracking yawn as I descend the steps to Columbia¡¯s main campus. I eye my dormitory building and think about my bed with its softforter.


    ¡°Are you ready to get wasted?¡±


    ¡°Aaah-¡±


    ¡°Come on! I¡¯ll meet you in front of the library.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t really have any money to spend.¡± Especially since I just agreed to give Mom my entire food budget for this month.


    ¡°My treat! Don¡¯t worry about it!¡±


    ¡°But-¡±


    ¡°You can let me pay for something once in a while, God! I¡¯ll meet you there.¡±


    The phone is dead and I shove my phone back inside my H&M purse. My fingers stroke the soft, brown leather. It¡¯s one of my most prized possessions, plucked from the bottom of a bargain bin at Ross.


    My cheeks burn at the thought of having Maria pay for our drinks. I know it¡¯s a small thing, but it still grates my nerves. I don¡¯t like owing people anything, and I usually have the money to afford my own drinks. Thest thing I want to do is take a leaf from my mother¡¯s book.


    I¡¯m doused in fire as I think about the money. I¡¯m furious with my mother. She¡¯s a pox, the fucking cancer in my life, always dragging me down when I¡¯m trying to carve out a life for myself. I can¡¯t cut her out of my life.


    She¡¯s all I have.


    Then I hate myself for all these horrible thoughts, because who thinks such horrible thoughts about their own mother?


    It¡¯s a vicious circle.


    There¡¯s no time to dwell on it. I have nothing to wear to go out-nothing really nice. Everything I own was bought or stolen from Ross, the unwanted clothes that filtered down fashion designer stores into their vast collection of mostly subpar crap.


    That¡¯s probably why guys always skip over me when we go out. It¡¯s as if I don¡¯t exist. Their eyes move over me like I¡¯m a piece of furniture, inevitably settling on my more attractive and better dressed friend, Maria.


    What¡¯s wrong with me? Am I justpletely unattractive?


    I¡¯m a bottle of pent-up fury as I walk towards the massive, dome like library and sit on the steps halfway up. Students mill everywhere, enjoying the sunshine to read their textbooks and jot down ast minute scrap of homework. I want to p the textbooks out of their hands. I want to strangle the hordes of rich kids happily discussing their summer break. The beige steps gleam in the sun and I squint my eyes, wishing I could afford better sunsses.


    I¡¯m an angry, bitter bitch. Don¡¯t judge me.


    Cheer up, a voice inside me says. Stop being so mopey.


    But I can¡¯t help but feel resentful as hell, and my eyes won¡¯t stop staring at the pair of unguarded sunsses, sitting on top of a pile of textbooks, just begging to be stolen. My hand darts out and grabs them, stuffing them in my purse before anyone can blink. Heart pounding, I sit on the steps, my leg muscles tense.


    Stealing is wrong. I know it is. It¡¯s pathetic. It¡¯s low. The men who killed my father robbed my house. So why do I keep doing it? What the fuck is wrong with me?


    Finally, Maria stops in front of me in tiny, white shorts. Her bronzed legs sparkle in the sun and she stoops down to wave in front of my face. Giant sunsses obscure half her face and I smile at how ridiculous she looks. Normally, I would hate someone like Maria. She¡¯s rich, entitled, and has the perfect family life I always wanted. Unlike most rich, entitled people, she¡¯s shared everything with me. Even her family. Somehow, she broke through to my ck little heart and earned its trust.


    ¡°Are you ready, hooker?¡±


    I stand up wearily. ¡°I¡¯m not getting wasted.¡±


    ¡°You are. I¡¯m getting us shots of Patron as soon as we get there!¡±


    ¡°Where?¡±


    ¡°Stone Rose Lounge.¡±


    I groan as she mentions the super upscale bar with its uptight patrons. The only thing I would be able to afford there was perhaps an olive.


    ¡°It has great views of the park!¡±


    ¡°Lets just go to a dive bar around campus.¡±


    I hoard my money on my MetroCard and I don¡¯t want to spend what little I have going to a bar. Maria¡¯s disappointed frown makes me swell with guilt.


    ¡°I know that I¡¯m ame friend,¡± I say in a low voice. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I just can¡¯t hang out as much as you want to. I wish I could.¡±


    She grabs my arm, stopping us as she tips her head to look at me above her sunsses. ¡°Ade, don¡¯t worry about it. It¡¯s no problem. Let¡¯s just find a bar around campus.¡±


    Her little pink smile almost makes me tear up. God, what¡¯s wrong with me today? I nod and walk forward, blinking rather fast. We walk down a couple blocks to 1020, the go-to dive bar for Columbia students. There¡¯s no sign, just white printed letters on an unassuming, green tarp: 1020. It¡¯s already packed with students celebrating the end of finals week. We squeeze ourselves in, Maria holding her fake ID, and cram against the backs of people trying to order at the bar. A projector ys Goodfes against the back wall and the sound of people talking and the music is deafening.


    It¡¯s happy hour, and a big sign written in white chalk advertises two-dor beers. Maria bellies up to the counter, somehow attracting the bartender¡¯s attention immediately in a way that I could have never done. He¡¯s a scruffy looking guy with tattoos all over his arms. His gaze flicks down Maria¡¯s low-cut shirt before meeting her beaming gaze.


    ¡°Two beers!¡±


    In seconds, Maria hands me a dripping mug of golden beer. We clink our sses together and drink. She tugs my elbow and we squeeze deeper into the bar, somehow finding a table scattered with peanut shells and wet rings. I ease into the wooden chair with a sigh. Damn, it feels good. It¡¯s cheap beer, but it fills my belly with warmth.


    One drink, I tell myself. You¡¯ll have one drink tonight.


    It¡¯s so easy to findfort in alcohol. One¡¯s hardly enough. Three or four? Now, you¡¯re talking. But I¡¯m trying to ease up on the drinking. It¡¯s so hard to give up. It instantly quiets the noise in my head, and I feel more peaceful. Safe, even.


    ¡°After this we¡¯re doing shots.¡± Maria¡¯s innocent looking face smirks as I make a face, and then her hand dives into her Prada bag to search for her buzzing, jeweled phone. ¡°It¡¯s Jackie. He¡¯s gonna join us.¡±


    Jackie is her cousin, who I¡¯ve known just as long as Maria. The two of them always got along pretty well. He is always at every birthday party and family function. He¡¯s there at every Sunday dinner, which Maria would bring me along asionally. They are more like siblings, really. I try not to seethe with jealousy whenever I see them together. I want that. I want a brother, a sister, and a slew of cousins. How could anyone ever feel lonely with such a big family? All I ever had was Mom, who never made me feel loved.


    I swallow a huge gulp of beer and hide behind my ss, as if the people in the bar can read my ugly thoughts. It would make Mom cry.


    I¡¯m a terrible daughter. I¡¯ve resigned myself to that fact for years.


    A pair of jocks tap Maria¡¯s shoulder and she looks over her shoulder, sunsses still on, to judge them with a single swipe of her eyes. A smile flits on her face, neither inviting nor rejecting them.


    The taller one with a Yankees baseball cap shouts something, but we can¡¯t hear it in the din. He leans closer to her ear. Maria straightens and nods at them. She points towards the pool tables in the back and mimes aiming a cue. I shake my head. I¡¯ll stay here, I mouth to her.


    Just like that, she¡¯s disappears with the two jocks. We weren¡¯t even here fifteen minutes.Exclusive ? material by N?(/v)elDrama.Org.


    For ten minutes, I sit there by myself in the darkness like an asshole, not even attempting to socialize. All alone, sipping my beer like it¡¯s a lifeline. Unable to take it anymore, I fish a deck of cards out of my purse andy them on the table, ying a quick game of solitaire.


    asionally, I scan the bar filled with college students. I find a handsome face and I wonder what it¡¯d be like to have him as a boyfriend. His eyes dart towards me, as if he can feel me staring at him, and I quickly look back down to my game.


    Coward.


    This just isn¡¯t my realm. In the ssroom, I¡¯mfortable. I destroy every exam Ie across. My intelligence isn¡¯t a gift; I¡¯ve worked hard my whole life to get good grades. Something about getting those exams back makes me feel good about myself. Nobody could take that away from me. Lately, though, the satisfaction isn¡¯t the same.


    Or maybe I¡¯ve finally realized how goddamn empty my life is.


    ¡°You!¡±


    A male voice cuts through the din and I look up to see a red-faced, bearded guy looking down on me. My senses immediately go on high alert. Bristling, I fix the guy with a re.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I want to buy me-I mean, you, a drink.¡±


    How fucking perfect. Nothing annoys me more than being hit on by drunken idiots. I can¡¯t trust men in bars. They just want something from you, and there¡¯s no way to figure out what until you go home with them. Who knows? He could be a rapist. A jolt of fear makes me scan the bar. Any one of them could be, really.


    ¡°No thanks.¡±


    ¡°I mean it! I want to buy you a drink.¡±


    ¡°Go away.¡±


    The heat in my voice makes him blink. He stumbles away with a slightly hurt look on his face, and I turn back to my drink, forgetting him almost instantly.


    ¡°Hey!¡±


    I jump a bit in my seat as Jackie sits down in front of me. He¡¯s not a big guy. Probably around my height with short ck hair and an olive skinned face. Jackie has a boyish, trusting face. It¡¯s one that I¡¯ve seen countless times, so I can¡¯t help but feelforted when he smiles at me.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Maria?¡±


    I smirk and nod my head towards the back. She¡¯s already wearing the jock¡¯s baseball cap and I can almost hear her giggling all the way over here. ¡°She¡¯s doing her thing.¡±


    Maria leans over the pool table as she takes a shot, her tits nearly falling out.


    ¡°Maddon.¡± He shakes his head at his cousin and averts his gaze to the cards on the table. ¡°Wanna y ckjack or something?¡±


    He knows me too well. ¡°Sure. Get yourself a drink.¡±


    Jackie sits back down with a beer and we take turns dealing and ying. My eyes scan over the cards flipped down, keeping a mental tally of the ratio of high value cards to low.


    If I only I had the guts to try this at a casino, I would be rich.


    ¡°How do you do that?¡±


    I shrug. ¡°It¡¯s all probability. Counting card values.¡±


    Suddenly, Maria returns with her jocks, all of them a little more tipsy than they were an hour ago.


    ¡°Jackie-boy!¡±


    She bends down to affectionately give her cousin a kiss. Her cheeks glowing, she introduces us to the meat-heads who stand on either side of her like boulders. I forget their names immediately. Jackie rises from his seat to gather more chairs. The whole bar is in full swing, but somehow the jocks¡¯ massive bodies block the sound from reaching our inner circle.


    ¡°So, we¡¯re ying ckjack?¡±


    I sink into a happy, warm stupor as the cards fly out of Maria¡¯s hands. She doesn¡¯t know all the rules so I have to constantly remind her what to do. I know the ratio of high cards to low. The higher the ratio of high value cards in the shoe, the more I would bet. Since we aren¡¯t betting, all I have to concern myself with are the odds.


    I imagine the chips piling up in little heaps. If this were a casino, I would be rich.


    Too bad card counting will get you kicked out.


    The one with the Yankees baseball cap frowns at me, his bushy eyebrows furrowed in confusion. I can almost hear his thoughts: How is this chick winning?¡±She counts cards,¡± Jackie pipes up, sounding a bit drunk.


    I elbow his side and he grunts.


    ¡°Well that¡¯s not fair,¡± one of them protests.


    My eyes wander over the table, unintentionally adding a one or subtracting. I can¡¯t help myself. Even if I wanted to, I can¡¯t y a game without the ratios burning in my head.


    They seem determined to beat me, and Maria looks at me with a grudging smile.


    ¡°I¡¯m bored!¡± She stands up with her purse and yawns.


    ¡°Wait-¡± One of them wakes up, finally notices that the hot girl is leaving and that he better make a move.


    To my amazement, his gaze is pulled back towards the game. He gives me an irritated look and stands up after her. ¡°Can I get your number?¡±


    I roll my eyes as I watch Maria¡¯s crossed arms.


    ¡°Nah. I don¡¯t date guys who can¡¯t beat my friend at cards.¡±


    Wow. That¡¯s bitchy, even for her. Jackieughs behind his hands and I kick his foot.


    He leans over to me as they argue. ¡°Hey, want to go to a real card game this weekend?¡±


    The hushed tone in his voice piques my interest. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°High-stakes. It¡¯s five thousand just to sit in. You shoulde and watch.¡±


    His round eyes are big with excitement.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t miss it for the world.¡±

 3

    Maria hogs the full-length mirror in our apartment, posing in her pink dress, her long, ck hair shining down her back. I admire the way the dress hugs her curves and wince at my own reflection partially hidden behind her. All I have are jeans and t-shirts with varying degrees of shabbiness. I haven¡¯t bought so much as a sock in several years.


    She bites her pink lip as her darkshes wink towards me. ¡°You¡¯re going to wear that?¡± she says delicately.


    My face burns, confronted with my own inadequacy. ¡°I know. I don¡¯t really have anything.¡±


    Maria revolves around me and I see myself standing in the mirror with my tired jeans and faded ck shirt. I look awful. There¡¯s no way I can go to this fancy card game.


    ¡°Fuck it. I¡¯ll just stay here.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid. Just pick something from my closet.¡±


    Before I can speak, she marches to her closet and slides open the door, carefully studying her collection, which is sorted by color. Her thin arm rifles through its contents, picking out a ck body-conscious dress withce in the front and back. She grins. ¡°Try this.¡±


    I take the dress from her and gingerly and study the thick, stretchy material of the dress before taking off my jeans and t-shirt and pulling it on. The fabric is smooth but thick, almost like bandage. It¡¯s tight around my chest and stomach. I reach back and can¡¯t zip up the rest. Maria helps me zip it up and she gasps as she steps back and looks at me.


    A woman with messy, dark brown hair stands in front of the mirror in a ck dress that entuates her every curve. I turn to the side to see the back and the girl turns as well, exposing the sheerce that dips down to the middle of my back. There¡¯sce over my breasts, too. The sweetheart silhouette barely covers them up. The woman in the mirror blushes violently.


    ¡°Maria! This is way too much!¡±


    ¡°Are you kidding me? It¡¯s perfect! Look at how amazing you look!¡± Maria practically sprints to her closet and retrieves a pair of strappy ck pumps that she demands I put on immediately.


    ¡°It¡¯s so tight.¡± I spread my hands over my stomach. The dress is ttering; it smoothes out any bumps I would have. God, maybe I am attractive.


    My feet slide into the pumps and I wobble a bit on my feet, feeling like I might tip over. It¡¯s lucky that we have the same shoe size. She squeals with delight.


    ¡°Maria, I don¡¯t know if this is me.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right, it¡¯s not you. That¡¯s why it looks so amazing.¡±


    I throw a bundled up pair of my dirty socks at her head, but casually steps aside to avoid them, still grinning.


    ¡°Please, Adriana. Let me take care of everything.¡±


    Her brown eyes are sparking with excitement. I can almost feel the giddy waves rolling from her body. She likes this sort of thing. Me? The attention embarrasses me. I like to linger in the background, unnoticed. But that¡¯s notpletely true, is it? Aren¡¯t I jealous of Maria?


    Yes, I am, but I¡¯mfortable with being unnoticed, and wearing this dress is like hanging a neon sign around my neck: LOOK AT ME!


    She flies like a butterfly to and from her vanity, making me sit down as she applies my makeup. Eyeliner. Lipstick. I ask her not to give me too much, but she ignores me. She attacks my hair with a brush and spritzes floral conditioner or something over my head. My hair is already straight, but she takes out her straightener and goes through every strand carefully.


    Finally, she lets me get up to look at myself in the mirror. My jaw drops, because the girl in the mirror is not me. She¡¯s the woman I¡¯ve always admired at clubs, the girl who knows exactly how to show off her beauty. She¡¯s stunning. I have wless, shining hair and the moisturizer she used makes my face shine. To my surprise, there¡¯s not too much makeup, but what little there is makes a huge different. My eyes pop.


    Maria utters another squeal and grabs my hand. I squeeze it back and my throat closes up.


    ¡°Maria, you¡¯re amazing. Thank you.¡±


    She fusses a little bit. ¡°I wonder if we should put your hair up, actually. You have such delicate features. No, I don¡¯t want to overdo it.¡±


    Then she nces at her phone and shrieks. ¡°Shit! We were supposed to be downstairs ten minutes ago-I got so caught up in everything.¡±


    I tear my eyes from the mirror and grab my clutch. Jackie is waiting for us downstairs. We leave the dorm and lock it up, me trying to keep up with Maria¡¯s frantic pace in these ridiculous heels. Thankfully, we take the elevator down and see Jackie¡¯s car waiting for us. It¡¯s so lucky that there isn¡¯t traffic.


    Ever the gentleman, Jackie steps out to open the door. His dark eyes pass over me, not recognizing me at first.


    ¡°Whoa.¡±


    My face burns when he looks back at me with a shocked look on his face.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t she beautiful?¡±


    ¡°Maria!¡±


    She¡¯s making me even more self-conscious, but Jackie¡¯s face goes pink as he nods and agrees. I¡¯ve never seen him look so shy.


    I slide into the backseat with Maria as her crazed energy overfills the car.


    ¡°I¡¯m so fucking pumped,¡± she screams.


    ¡°Jesus, keep it down!¡± Jackie grimaces as we both erupt withughter.


    I watch the rolling, bright streets of Manhattan, my heart flying with happiness. I feel young and alive, for the first time in a long while.


    Tonight is going to be great.


    He drives us to a Hilton hotel, but parking is a bitch. We find a garage five blocks away, but I don¡¯t mind. People stare at us as we walk by, perhaps wondering what we¡¯re doing in this part of town, dressed up so nice. A car filled with young guys honk at us and a smile pulls at my face.


    Maria hollers at them with another one of her energetic screams and I can¡¯t help but join in. Jackie, looking sharp in his suit, shoves his hands deep in his pockets and shakes his head at us.


    We head inside the hotel, my heels cking loudly on the marble floor, and enter the elevators. Jackie presses the button for the twelfth floor.


    His quiet voice cuts through our chatter. ¡°So, I probably should mention that this card game we¡¯re going to is not exactly-ah-legal.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Maria shrieks.


    ¡°It¡¯s no big deal,¡± he shrugs. ¡°Just don¡¯t mention this to anyone else, okay? My brother said we coulde, but he doesn¡¯t want any other outsiders.¡±


    His brother? I didn¡¯t know much about Jackie¡¯s brother, other than the fact that he was older than Jackie.


    ¡°Uh, ok.¡±


    Maria and I exchange a strange look. Illegal card games? What exactly am I getting myself into?


    It¡¯s toote to turn back now. The elevator pings and the doors slide open. We can already hear it before we see it. Somewhere down these halls is a party. Dozens of people¡¯s muffled voices andughter reach us.


    Jackie smiles. ¡°They bought the rooms down the hallway, so there wouldn¡¯t beints.¡±


    Whoa.


    A couple dressed like us stops in front of a huge bouncer who guards the door. He checks their IDs and a list on phone before letting them in. The door opens and I catch a glimpse of people dressed to the nines.


    He¡¯s an intimidating guy. At least 6¡¯5¡å with a bald, shiny head. He¡¯s more fat than muscle, but it¡¯s clear that one swipe of his ham-like fists could knock us back tost month.


    ¡°Name,¡± he barks.


    ¡°Jackie Rizzuto. Brother of Frank Rizzuto.¡±


    He looks at the ridiculously small notepad in his hands and nods. His eyes rove over Maria and I. Boulder-man gives me a small smile as he backs up and opens the door for us.


    It¡¯s a massive suite with tables and tables of hors d¡¯oeuvres. I can see two rooms in the suite, and the one we¡¯re currently standing in is packed with men in suits and women in cocktail dresses. Everyone is much older than us, but that doesn¡¯t stop Maria from bouncing to the nearest table.


    ¡°Look!¡±


    It¡¯s a kleptomaniac¡¯s paradise. There¡¯s a three-level tier filled with chocte truffles and petit fours. I want to scoop it all into my purse. She grabs a few and bites into one of them, making an ecstatic moan. There¡¯s little baked tarts, smoked salmon, sses and sses of champagne. A man standing in front of a white booth makes drinks. Around all of the tablesden with food are guards standing around the perimeter. A tiny sting of fear bites at my skin as I look at them. There¡¯s something about them that¡¯s downright ominous.


    Don¡¯t steal anything.Content property of N?velDra/ma.Org.


    My palms sweaty, I lean my neck and gaze into the next room, which is significantly quieter. There must be at least five felt tables set up. Old men that I recognize as dealers are settled behind them, except for one. In this room, a group of men smoke and drink as they asionally look back into the room. The poker tables draw me in, but I feel another tiny prick of fear as I watch them. There are small heaps of chips on the tables, and I feel a desperate pull to snatch one and add it to my pile of memorabilia. Another trinket, another trophy.


    ¡°It¡¯s five-thousand just to sit in,¡± Jackie hisses in my ear.


    I almost jump at the sound of his voice. I¡¯ve no desire for the drinks and food; I just want to y poker. Or at least watch them y. Most of them are much older than me, and they asionally nce my way as if wondering why I¡¯m staring at them.


    One of them, a man whose skin hangs off his neck, looks at me. ¡°Come inside, sweetheart. Don¡¯t be shy.¡±


    I step into the room gingerly, Jackie hanging back to say hello to his brother. Maria joins me at my elbow and I breathe a sigh of relief. The old man¡¯s smile is so encouraging, so friendly, that I feel a little more confident and I graze my hands over the felt.


    ¡°What are you doing in here?¡± Maria whispers. Like me, she feels the need to keep quiet.


    I shrug. ¡°I like poker. That¡¯s why I came. I¡¯m going to watch their games. You can go back if you like.¡±


    I¡¯m hoping that she doesn¡¯t, because I feel a bit uneasy, but she says that she¡¯s going to mingle for a little bit. I swallow hard when her warmth disappears from my side, but the men in the middle of the room aren¡¯t really paying attention to me. I catch snippets of their conversation.


    ¡°I don¡¯t fucking understand, what happened? Cesare said there would be five dealers.¡±


    Jackie has returned with a ss of champagne for me, for which I¡¯m immensely grateful. I tip my head back and try not to ruin my makeup as I down half of the bubbly liquid.


    Closer and closer. I¡¯m migrating towards the group of men in the middle. I¡¯m looking at the neatly set up chips and cards, itching to get my hands on them.


    Don¡¯t!


    ¡°One of them called in sick.¡±


    ¡°Well, what the fuck are we going to do now? I invested a lot of money in this thing.¡±


    They¡¯re missing a dealer? I can deal. It¡¯s easy.


    I¡¯m about to speak up, but something about them seems utterly forbidding. I just want to hang in the background and watch.


    ¡°We have yersing in from Jersey. I can¡¯t just tell them that we fucked up.¡±


    ¡°Adriana can deal.¡± Jackie¡¯s loud voice booms out.


    I¡¯m mortified as all of them turn around to stare at us like we¡¯re a bunch of idiots. Holy shit. My heart thumps against my chest as they re at the source of the interruption.


    ¡°Who the fuck are you?¡±


    The voice,ing from a forty-something man, is definitely hostile.


    ¡°I¡¯m Jackie, Frank Rizzuto¡¯s brother. And this is Adriana. She¡¯s an expert poker yer.¡±


    Ha-ha. No, I¡¯m not.


    Their angry faces dissolve into amusement. This girl¡¯s a poker yer? It¡¯s their disbelieving faces that make me step forward.


    ¡°Yeah, I am. And I can deal for you. It¡¯s no problem.¡±


    They smile at me. Fucking jerks.


    ¡°All right, sweetheart,¡± he says in acent tone. ¡°Why don¡¯t you join the rest of the women in the other room?¡±


    The dismissal makes me so angry that I slide into the empty dealer seat and pick up the deck of cards. I got into Columbia, for fuck¡¯s sake.


    Don¡¯t you dare talk down to me.


    I shuffle them a million different ways; all the ways dealers do at casinos. They approach the table angrily, almost as if they want to pull me off the chair, but I give them a small, polite smile.


    ¡°Believe me, I can do this.¡±


    Even I¡¯m surprised at the confidence pouring from my voice. If there¡¯s one thing I know for sure, it¡¯s this. I¡¯m more than capable. I¡¯ve done this a hundred thousand times.


    The man who snapped at me crumbles. ¡°What the fuck, why not?¡±


    ¡°Cesare will be pissed.¡±


    ¡°So? What else do we do? We¡¯ll watch the girl for a bit and if she does well, who gives a fuck?¡±


    The forty-year old man looks at me with his eyebrows raised. He strikes me as a man who goes with the flow. Thin-rimmed spectacles sit on his long nose. ¡°You know how to y ckjack?¡±


    I smile at him. Stupid question.


    ¡°All right. My name is Paulie. Just shout if you need anything.¡±


    In the background, I see Jackie watching me with a slight worried look on his face. There¡¯s no time to think about it, because men are filtering into the room now that everything¡¯s ready. Their eyes zero in on me with raised eyebrows, and suddenly there¡¯s a crowd around my table. They want to sit at my table.


    My hands shake a little bit, so I keep shuffling. Finally, the seats are organized.


    ¡°How you doin¡¯?¡±


    ¡°Good, thank you.¡± I look up at the man addressing me, another one in his fifties. ¡°How are you?¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯tin.¡±


    His admiring gaze makes my face hot. None of them seem perturbed that I¡¯m the only female dealer. In fact, the fight over seats at my table suggests otherwise. The game begins and I deal out the cards smoothly, entertaining myself by counting the cards while they fly out of my hands. The first game ends with a win for the house.


    I can feel Paulie breathing down my neck as he makes sure I¡¯m not screwing up the game, but he rxes as game after game goes without incident. The man who smiled at me wins, and he tosses me a chip. Stunned I grab it. A tip? I nce at Paulie, and he nods.


    The guys start to loosen up. Cigar smoke furls around the table, choking the air. Half of the crowd from the other room filters in to watch. There are explosions ofughter at other tables, groans, but all of it disappears as I focus on the game.


    ¡°YES! Yes, thank you! Here you go, honey.¡±


    Another few chips fly my way. ¡°Thank you, sir.¡±


    The yers seem to be from a mixed crowd-ranging from rich businessmen to married, middle-ss men who look like they¡¯re on them from their wives. The ones surveying the game are a different sortpletely. Dark-haired. Olive skinned. Something nags at the back of my head, but I don¡¯t want to confront it yet. My heart thumps wildly in my chest.


    This is dangerous. I don¡¯t know why, but it is.


    There¡¯s a slightmotion in the other room. I hear voices lift up in greeting and Paulie tenses next to me. He¡¯s gone in a sh.


    ¡°Vincent, there was a slight problem.¡±


    I don¡¯t look up, because I¡¯m still focused on the game. It¡¯s none of my business, anyway.


    ¡°Who the fuck is she?¡±


    The voice is young and angry, with a heavy Brooklyn ent. It cuts through the calm energy in my table like a knife and the man in front of me flinches. I try to keep focused on the game, but the voices are getting louder and angrier. I hear them walking across the room and finally someone stops next to my chair.


    ¡°Who the fuck are you?¡±


    My head rises to the voice to tell him to calm down, to be quiet, but all the words are swallowed down my throat. I¡¯m staring at a pair of eyes as dark as mine. One brief look and I can tell that this guy is gorgeous. He¡¯s older than me, but he vibrates with a deadly, seductive energy. His dark hair falls in front of his eyes with a casual elegance and I look away from his expressive eyes to his neck, eyeing the lean muscles and the sharpness of his vicle. He¡¯s a lean, and his suit fits him perfectly. I can¡¯t help but notice how yummy he looks in it. He¡¯s hot, that¡¯s for sure, but he¡¯s ring at me like he hates me. The heat in his eyes throws me.


    ¡°Excuse me, sir,¡± I say in a cold voice. ¡°We¡¯re in the middle of a game.¡±

 4

    One of the men sitting down chuckles and I freeze. Behind him, I see Jackie waving his arms around to get my attention. His face is nched and he¡¯s shaking his head violently.


    Uh-oh.


    ¡°I asked you a question,¡± he snaps. ¡°Who are you and why are you dealing at my card game?¡±


    My card game. I suddenly realize how silent the table has gotten and how everyone in the room is staring at me. Whoever this man is, he¡¯s the authority. Everyone looks at him as if he¡¯s in charge.


    ¡°Vincent, it¡¯s okay,¡± one of the yers says. ¡°She¡¯s good.¡±


    Vincent¡¯s face loosens somewhat as Paulie repeats that the dealer called in sick and that I offered to help. He keeps eye-fucking me like I¡¯m up to something.


    ¡°I¡¯m Adriana.¡±


    He doesn¡¯t react to my voice. ¡°Who brought this broad here?¡±


    Suddenly, a man seated to the side leans in, smirking. ¡°Who cares? I¡¯d rather look at her than those old fucks you have over there.¡±


    The tension choking the air diffuses as everyone dissolves intoughter. Even Vincent¡¯s eyes lighten and a smile twitches across his stony face. I feel a sudden swoop of heat in my chest, even though the smile isn¡¯t directed at me. I can feel his uneasiness as he circles around the table.


    We resume the game, my face burning whenever I nce up and catch the brooding man staring at me. With his arms crossed in front of his chest, he¡¯s hot enough to be on the cover of GQ.


    Gorgeous, but a jerk. Life is unfair.


    The games go on and on for hours and I¡¯m fighting the urge not to yawn. Maria and Jackie look like they want to go, but I look at Vincent¡¯s stern face and know that I¡¯ll have to ride it out till the end.


    ¡°All right, hon. I¡¯m out.¡±


    Chairs scrape the floor as yers start to leave, and they all slide over chips towards me. I don¡¯t know whether I should ept them or not, but something tells me it would be insulting not to.


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    They¡¯re all so polite as they leave, lining up to cash out next to a heavily guarded man with a metal box. I stand up to leave too, feeling more and more uneasy as the room empties of people. Jackie and Maria make a beeline for me.


    ¡°Finally,¡± she says in a hushed voice.


    ¡°Let¡¯s just go. Now.¡± Jackie¡¯s voice is tight.


    Vincent is against the wall, talking to a few other men next to him. He pulls his arms back and I catch a glimpse of something ck and metallic resting on his hip.


    He has a gun. Holy shit.


    I walk as quietly as I can with the heels and keep my head down. Our strides quicken as we pass him, but Vincent¡¯s head snaps up like he never missed a thing.


    ¡°Hey! I¡¯m not done with you.¡±


    The way he says, ¡°I¡¯m not done with you,¡± makes my heart freeze in my chest. What exactly does he want to do with me?


    He pushes himself off the wall, dark and menacing as he approaches us. He sweeps around me and lightly touches my upper back.


    ¡°Go,¡± he says to Jackie. ¡°I¡¯ll drive her home.¡±


    There¡¯s something forbidding in his gaze, or maybe it¡¯s the way he speaks. It¡¯s as if he expects everyone to do what he says without question.


    Poor Jackie is too terrified to argue. His anxious eyes slide to me before meeting his again. ¡°Okay. C¡¯mon, Maria.¡±


    Maria frowns, her face mirroring the feelings in my chest as Jackie grips her arm so tightly that her face looks pained. ¡°Hey!¡±


    Vincent watches them go with a satisfied expression and ushers me to a secluded area of the room.


    I watch my friends leave without me. Traitors.


    ¡°I-I think I should go, too.¡±


    Swallowing hard, I suppress the urge to run away from him. I can feel his fingers hot against my back, or maybe my skin burns at his touch. He corners me against the wall and I be acutely aware that we¡¯re all alone. Thest people in the room are packing up the tables.


    Not that I really mind being cornered by him. I¡¯ve never had the full attention of a guy this attractive.


    ¡°Rx,¡± he says. ¡°I just wanted to apologize. I¡¯m sorry for the way I talked to you.¡±


    Well, that wasn¡¯t what I expected.


    ¡°Oh. It¡¯s okay.¡±


    My guard¡¯s still up. There¡¯s definitely darkness behind his inky eyes, but I¡¯m not sure what it is.


    ¡°When I saw someone I didn¡¯t recognize dealing at one of my games, I was not happy.¡±


    I have no fucking clue what he means by ¡°my games.¡±


    ¡°I-I see.¡±


    His lips pull upwards, revealing deep dimples as he studies me. His hand actually reaches out and his finger strokes my face in a surprisingly tender gesture. ¡°You really have no idea who I am, do you?¡±


    He sounds amused, which is probably a good thing.


    ¡°Should I?¡± I¡¯m fixated on how incredible it feels to have his finger touch my cheek. All that heatbined with the energy in his eyes makes me dizzy.


    Heughs then, a deep, pleasant rumble. Dark eyes twinkle at me. ¡°No, I guess not. But you will soon enough.¡±


    What does that mean?


    ¡°You¡¯re really good at what you do. I was watching you the whole time.¡±


    Thepliment, along with his smile, burns me all the way down to my toes. He looks at me like he¡¯s never seen anything quite like me.


    ¡°Yeah, I saw.¡±


    ¡°How would you like to work for me?¡±


    Shock reverberates through my body when he says that. Me? You want me to work for you? I¡¯m a little disappointed, somehow. I expected-I hoped that he would ask me out. I babble stupidly until he cuts right through.


    ¡°Men like staring at gorgeous broads when they y poker. You¡¯re good and you earned a lot of tips.¡±


    When he looks at me, I can tell the difference. All those years I spent working for Mom, trying to get her back on her feet andpletely neglecting my own needs have finally caught up to me. All it took was a dress and some makeup. He looks at me like he wants to lick my body head to toe, and I love it. I¡¯m conflicted. He scares me, but I¡¯m strapped for cash.


    ¡°How much?¡±


    I almost regret asking, because he leaves my side to gather the boxed up chips and returns to me, opening them up.


    ¡°About five grand. ¡®Course, I get a cut. Sixty-forty.¡±


    What?


    He gouges the box and hands it back to me. There¡¯s only a small heap left. Three thousand dors. Even though I desperately need the money, I can¡¯t help but feel angry at the injustice of it.


    ¡°That¡¯s not fair!¡±


    For the first time since hours ago, a shadow crosses over his face. ¡°Maddon, you have some balls. It¡¯s a couple nights per week, and if you¡¯re getting tips like this all the time, you¡¯ll be making good money for yourself.¡±


    He¡¯s right. I swallow my anger and back off. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Mr. Vince-I mean-¡±


    The smile returns to his face. ¡°It¡¯s just Vince. Is that a yes?¡± His eyes watch me like he already knows the answer. He can see me squirming with it.


    ¡°Yes-wait, how do I-¡± I lower my voice, ¡°I can¡¯t deposit this in the bank, can I?¡±


    I know that what I¡¯m agreeing to is illegal. The phrase, ¡°moneyundering¡±es to mind. It¡¯s one I¡¯ve only heard of in mob movies. It¡¯s just for this summer. Just to get myself back on my feet.


    He chuckles again. ¡°I¡¯ll put you on the payroll.¡±


    Vincent steps back and inclines his head towards the man guarded by two ape-like looking guards. His hand is at the small of my back, but I want more of him wrapped around me, curving around my waist. When¡¯s thest time I¡¯ve had sex? Thest time I¡¯ve even been touched like this? A few years? God, it¡¯s like all those parts in my body are waking up again. It¡¯s like there¡¯s a demon inside me, rattling the bars of its cage. He stands to the side and his arm falls away. I¡¯m doused in ice.


    ¡°Ralph. Pay her out.¡±


    The man takes the box of chips from me and hands me back two thousand in cash. Jesus. I count it again and stuff it in my clutch. Vince looks at me over his iPhone.


    ¡°I need your number to contact you.¡±


    I give it to him, trying to hide the glee in my voice, but he gives no indication that it¡¯s anything but business. The wind leaves my sails.


    It¡¯s a long walk to the elevator and all the way there I keep thinking: Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. I try not to think about how ufortable I feel alone with him as we descend twelve stories. The thoughts in my head make me feel nervous, like he¡¯ll be able to see inside my head andugh at the thought of him being attracted to me.


    His lean body rests against the wall. ¡°So, where we headed?¡±


    ¡°I live in the dorms at Columbia.¡±


    His eyebrows raise and he grins. ¡°Big shot, eh? What are you studying?¡±


    I rub my arm and shrug. ¡°Just general ed. I might major in math.¡±


    ¡°Nice.¡±


    Trantion: he could care less. I nce at the numbers blinking on the wall, my toe tapping the floor. Go faster, dammit.


    ¡°How did you learn how to y so well?¡±


    The dark eyes are still watching me, making me feel stripped bare. ¡°I picked it up in high school. Then I learned how to count cards. It¡¯s just second nature now.¡± I babble on through before I realize my mistake and my palms slip on the wall.


    He shakes his gorgeous head,ughing. ¡°You realize people get their fingers broken for that, right?¡±


    A stab of anxiety reminds me to be careful with this man. ¡°I¡¯ve never actually done it at a casino or anything. I would never do that. But as a dealer it¡¯s useful. I can see whether people are cheating.¡±


    The elevator dings and shudders to a stop, but Vince doesn¡¯t move a muscle. ¡°You¡¯re a strange girl.¡±


    Strange? What the hell does that mean? I get enough crap from my mother, and I don¡¯t need to be insulted by random, hot men. Screw him. I can¡¯t walk fast enough in these damn heels, so Vincent catches up with me easily enough.


    The receptionist sees Vincent leaving with me and lifts her head. ¡°Goodnight, Mr. Cesare.¡±


    ¡°Night.¡±


    Doormen open the way out for me and I want to march the six blocks to the nearest subway station, but Vincent slides up against me and grabs my arm. It¡¯s almost painful, the grip on my flesh.


    The streets arepletely devoid of people. I don¡¯t know howte it is-2am, maybe? There¡¯s no one around. Just Vincent and his inescapable heat, his hand is like a vice around my arm. If I screamed, no one would hear me.Original from N?velDrama.Org.


    Panicked, I try to lunge away from him but he yanks me back into his chest. I look up at his face half-hidden in the shadows. He has pretty eyes; they¡¯re big and expressive. Right now they¡¯re locked onto mine. He bends down like he wants to kiss me, but his mouth stops somewhere around my ear.


    ¡°I only meant that you¡¯re not like most girls your age.¡± His lips hiss against my ear.


    I gasp as I feel his words billowing over my ear. Electricity shoots through his fingers, which still keep me close enough to see the stubble on his chin, to inhale his cologne that wraps around me as if I¡¯ve slept in his bed. Without meaning to, my hand slips inside his jacket pocket and I seize something long and metallic. A pen.


    I twist my arm and hide it as he pulls away. My heart is hammering hard-I want to make him pay for how he talked to me. He wears an irritating little smirk on his face like he knows exactly what he¡¯s doing to me. His hand slips from my arm and once again palms the small of my back.


    I can¡¯t believe that I let him lead me around like this. Normally, I don¡¯t let guys lead me around. Normally, I would find it annoying.


    We walk into the garage together and his arms drops away. A ck BMW lights up when he digs inside his jacket pocket. During the ride back, my logical brain can only think about two things:


    1. I¡¯m afraid of him.


    2. I want him.


    I¡¯m always so careful to avoid people who might hurt me, so why am I interested in a man who radiates power?


    I can¡¯t figure it out.


    He stops in front of my dorm building and I wait for-I don¡¯t know what. Something.


    ¡°It was nice meeting you, Adriana.¡±


    ¡°Nice meeting you, too.¡±


    He nods, his mouth fixed in a neutral expression, and I take that as my cue to leave.


    How anticlimactic.


    I climb out of the sleek car with a little difficulty and start walking back to my dorms, my mind buzzing with everything that happened.


    ¡°Adriana?¡±


    Turning around, I see that he¡¯s still parked there, watching me. ¡°Yeah?¡± I stoop a little to look at him through the window.


    ¡°Listen, don¡¯t be afraid to show more skin.¡± He smiles as if it¡¯s just a suggestion. ¡°You¡¯ll get bigger tips, I guarantee it.¡±


    Are you saying that you want other guys staring at my tits?


    Maybe he¡¯s right. ¡°I-I¡¯ll keep that in mind.¡±


    He winks at me and throttles the car, leaving me absolutely dumbfounded. What the hell did I just sign up for?

 5

    When I finally reach my dorm room, I¡¯m fucking exhausted. It¡¯s 3am and I¡¯ve had the longest night of my life. I still can¡¯t believe what happened. I open the door quietly, because I expect Maria to be asleep, so I¡¯m astounded when I see Jackie and Maria still dressed up, sitting on chairs and looking wide awake.Content property of N?velDra/ma.Org.


    ¡°Thank fucking God.¡± Jackie shifts in his seat and rakes a hand through his hair.


    She bolts upright. ¡°Jesus, Ade! I was so worried!¡±


    I¡¯m startled by their reaction. ¡°Guys, it was fine. He just wanted to apologize and offer me a job.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    Both of them yell at the same time. I start to smile, even though I¡¯m ruffled by the shocked looks on their faces.


    ¡°Yeah. He wants me to deal cards every week. I made three grand tonight in tips!¡±


    ¡°Oh, fuck.¡± Jackie sits back down and buries his face in his hands.


    I stare at him. It¡¯s not like him to explode like that. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    Maria grabs my shoulders, her eyes bloodshot, but her face is livid with fear. ¡°Ade, he¡¯s a captain.¡±


    ¡°Captain? What the-¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s a captain in the Vittorio Crime Family.¡±


    Shit. Oh, God. I¡¯ve just signed up to work for the fucking mafia? This must be a joke.


    ¡°What the hell is a captain?¡± Maria shrieks.


    Jackie rubs his face. ¡°God, don¡¯t you guys watch movies? Every crime family has a boss. Under that boss, there¡¯s an underboss. Under him are the captains. Capos,¡± he says, the Italian word rolling off his tongue. ¡°They have soldiers working for them. It¡¯s a hierarchy.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure he¡¯s with the mob?¡±


    ¡°Of course, I¡¯m sure.¡±


    I¡¯ve heard the name all my life. They¡¯re always in the papers. Vittorio hit in Brooklyn indicates war with Rizzos heating up. Vittorio family mobsters arrested in connection to Italian Mafia.


    I dive to theputer and immediately google his name. What was it? Vincent Cesare? I type it in and look him up, Maria and Jackie looking over my shoulder.


    There¡¯s not much on him, but there¡¯s a novel on Gio Vittorio, the boss of the family.


    The buzzing in my head gets worse and I feel the beginnings of a headache. Goddamn it. I can¡¯t deal with this shit right now. Turning it off, I wheel around to stare at both of them. Then I remember something. Another swell of horror rises in my throat.


    ¡°I stole a pen from him.¡±


    ¡°You what?¡±


    I take it out of my purse and swallow hard. It¡¯s a Waterman pen, one of those expensive fountain pens. It weighs heavily in my hand. Solid gold.


    Jesus.


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t-I didn¡¯t mean to!¡±


    ¡°Oh Jesus fucking Christ, Adriana. Of all people, you decided to steal from him.¡± Maria glowers at me. She knows about my habit because she¡¯s caught me before.


    ¡°I¡¯ll give it back to him,¡± I say in a small voice.


    ¡°No, don¡¯t!¡±


    ¡°You just have to tell him that you changed your mind.¡±


    ¡°She can¡¯t do that!¡± Maria shrieks. ¡°What is she going to say? ¡®Excuse me Mr. Badass Mobster, I was just wondering if I could quit!¡¯ Then before she knows it, she¡¯s whacked!¡±


    Both of them are freaking me out. ¡°You¡¯ve watched way too many Martin Scorsese movies. I¡¯m not going to get killed for turning down a job.¡± I¡¯ll admit that calling Vincent up and telling him that I changed my mind intimidates the hell out of me.


    They¡¯re both looking at me like I need to act now, but I¡¯m too tired to be scared. ¡°Guys, I¡¯ll deal with this in the morning. I¡¯m too exhausted right now to think.¡±


    ¡°Maybe I can talk to my brother.¡± Jackie sighs and picks up his jacket that hangs on the post of my bed. ¡°He¡¯s just an associate, I think.¡±


    I heard about his brother being the ck sheep of the family, but I never thought that he was associated with criminals.


    ¡°Don¡¯t do anything yet.¡± I¡¯m chewing my lip.


    Maria¡¯s face looks bloodless, all of her makeup faded away. ¡°You¡¯re not thinking of actually going through with it, are you?¡±


    I kicked off my heels and shrug. ¡°Guys, I need to sleep!¡±


    ¡°All right, goodnight.¡±


    We mumble a goodbye as Jackie leaves the dorm. Maria and I stare at each other in disbelief. Then I start tough at the ridiculousness of it all. Maria¡¯s head starts shaking and I clutch my sides as Iugh my ass off, until finally I¡¯m wiping tears from my eyes.


    ¡°Too much excitement for one night,¡± she says.


    That, I can agree with.

 6

    Bright sunlight makes me wince the moment I open my eyes, and I marvel at the fact that I didn¡¯t have any nightmares while I slept. It takes me a while to grope through the fogginess of sleep to understand why I feel so excited.


    I try to untangle the web of confusing images ofst night and I¡¯m almost sure that I woke up from a very bizarre dream until I grab my ck clutch and peek inside.


    Yep. It¡¯s still there. Three thousand bucks.


    My mouth dry, I put it back on my desk and sink into my covers. Lord knows I need the money. He didn¡¯t seem like such a bad guy. I just want to make a little bit of money over the summer, and then I¡¯ll quit and it¡¯ll all be behind me.


    You get panic attacks when you hear strange noises outside your dorm. Why the hell do you want to mingle with a bunch of mobsters?


    My throat constricts, scenes from Casino shing through my mind. Bludgeoned bodies rolled in holes in the desert.


    It just never seemed real to me. All of it was fiction, make-believe, only pretend. It was all too extraordinary. Maybe they¡¯re not really violent. Maybe they¡¯re more like crooked businessmen.


    Slipping from my bed, I walk carefully on the wooden floorboards until I reach my closet. I desperately need a shower to wash the vestiges of makeup from my face. A row of tired-looking clothes greets me.


    Man, I¡¯m tired of dressing like shit, wearing the same thing week after week because Mom sucks all my money. I¡¯m tired of never doing a damn thing for myself.


    I¡¯m going out today and I¡¯m going to buy something new, something that isn¡¯t from the goddamn thrift store. I want makeup, new shoes, dresses, and jeans. It¡¯s taken me until now to realize that they¡¯re necessities, and the fact that I don¡¯t have any of them makes it okay for me to spend a little on myself. All I need is a couple hundred dors to go shopping. I can¡¯t put this money in the bank yet, so I¡¯ll spend some of it. Why not? I deserve it, for fuck¡¯s sake.


    A part of me wants to look good for him for the next card game. I¡¯m d Maria can¡¯t see my face, because it looks like a ripe tomato.


    ¡°You¡¯re not like most girls your age.¡±


    I smile at the memory, my skin heating as I remember how it felt to be so close to him. He¡¯s so different from other guys. Vince strikes me as a guy who knows what he wants and takes it without waiting for it toe to him.


    There¡¯s a reason why he¡¯s so different, you idiot.


    If I had a healthy brain, I would give him a wide berth.


    After showering, Maria¡¯s still asleep, so I write her a note telling her where I¡¯ve gone. When Ie back from shopping, almost four hourster, Maria is sitting at her desk. Her dark hair is pulled up into a loose bun and there are dark circles under her eyes.


    I¡¯ve had a pretty damn good day. I can barely get through the door with all the bags I have around my wrists and Maria stares as I stumble inside. Humming happily, I start hanging up the dresses from Guess. They¡¯re beautiful, sexy dresses that I would have never bought for myself, but I¡¯ve a renewed confidence in myself. I spent a little bit more than I should have, but everything was on sale. New shoes, new tops, new everything. I needed them.


    ¡°Tell me you didn¡¯t spend that money,¡± Maria croaks.


    I pause in the middle of hanging a hot pink dress. Maria looks terrible. Her normally glowing skin is pale, but then again, I probably look worse. ¡°Yeah, I did. So what?¡±


    She sighs and shakes her head like I¡¯ve just made a grave error.


    ¡°I really think you¡¯re blowing this out of proportion. I¡¯ll be dealing cards. The only difference between what I¡¯ll be doing and the casinos is that one¡¯s legal and one¡¯s not.¡±Content property of N?velDra/ma.Org.


    ¡°It¡¯s blood money, Adriana.¡±


    My insides twist. ¡°Well, what about corporations that use their profits to fund terrorist groups and hate groups and-¡±


    ¡°This isn¡¯t Chick-fil-A!¡± she roars. ¡°This is the Italian Mafia, you know, I¡¯ll murder you in your sleep if you step out of line kind of thing.¡±


    I continue hanging up my clothes, my face partially hidden by a new pair of jeans. ¡°He doesn¡¯t-he wouldn¡¯t do that.¡±


    ¡°Oh my God, Adriana. You have no idea who you¡¯re dealing with.¡±


    My shoulders sag as her voice cracks, striking me to my core. She¡¯s right. Of course, she¡¯s right. How the hell could I ever convince myself that I could work alongside murderers and thieves and who knows what else? But I stare at all the beautiful clothes I just bought; all of it would have been impossible if it weren¡¯t forst night.


    ¡°I¡¯m tired of being poor.¡±


    My eyes slowly fill with tears when I realize I¡¯m back to square one. I hear the sound of Maria¡¯s body getting up from the chair and her eyes are shining with tears when she pulls me into a hug.


    ¡°I know, honey, but you¡¯re in Columbia. Whatever you do after this, you¡¯ve got it made. You don¡¯t need this illegal gambling shit on your record.¡±


    Somehow, my throat thickens even more when she says that. Really, I was stupid. I had fun for one night, but that¡¯s all it was ever going to be. One night.

 7

    I¡¯m sitting in what looks like a bar from the 1920¡¯s in Midtown East. The dark wood decorbined with the deep red seats makes a very masculine-looking theme. Behind the wooden bar is a wall of opaque ss, hundreds of tiny rectangles of ss, where only the boldest colors from outside filter through. Everyone¡¯s dressed up for this ce, including me, but I still feelpletely out of touch.


    I don¡¯t know why Steve picked this ce.


    Maria made me sign up for match., and I¡¯m waiting for my first date in-oh, years.


    God help me.


    I¡¯ve no idea what you¡¯re supposed to do after a first date. Suppose he wants to kiss me? Will he expect that?


    He¡¯s ten minuteste and I¡¯m already half-wishing he doesn¡¯t show up so that I can go home. I must look so stupid sitting here by myself, sipping my rum and coke. I study the rich details carved into the wood and hardly pay attention to the dumpy man standing in front of my table.


    ¡°Adriana?¡±


    How does he know my name?


    I recognize his face as the one matching Steve¡¯s profile picture, although he¡¯s about thirty pounds heavier.


    Son of a bitch.


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s me.¡±


    Steve¡¯s wearing jeans and a ck t-shirt, which looks several sizes too small. His brown hair lies t on his head, lifeless. He¡¯s at least five years older than that profile picture and his body is not at all ¡°athletic¡± like he ims.


    It pisses me off that he lied, but it angers me even more that he couldn¡¯t even have the decency to wear something nice. I¡¯m in a dress and I spent a half-hour trying to figure out how to use Maria¡¯s makeup. He looked like he just rolled out of bed.


    ¡°Wow,¡± he says with wide eyes. ¡°You look really nice.¡±


    You don¡¯t.


    I want to retort with something bitchy. After all, he did deceive me.


    ¡°Thanks.¡±


    Steve sits down and gs the waitress, ordering beer for himself. We stare at each other in quiet difort. I¡¯m already counting down the minutes and I wonder if I should excuse myself to the bathroom and get an emergency phone call from Maria. Steve turns out to be an unemployed recording artist. He makes me listen to his awful, chip-tune music for ten minutes while my brain feels like it¡¯s about to explode. He talks about it for half an hour, and by then I¡¯ve checked outpletely.


    Instead, I spend the date thinking about the kind of man who does interest me. Not Steve, that¡¯s for fucking sure. A tall, olive-skinned man dressed in a suit floats in front of my vision. Just remembering his hands traveling up my back makes my neck flush.


    Steve gives me a strange look.


    Oh, shit. He¡¯s still talking.


    ¡°Um-what?¡±


    ¡°I said, do you want to split the bill?¡±


    You¡¯re fucking joking, right?


    ¡°Sure,¡± I say through tight lips.


    Not that I¡¯m a conservative person, but he can¡¯t even pay for a drink on the first date? Jesus Christ.


    His face crumples slightly. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I know this must seem like aplete joke. I¡¯m pretty broke.¡±


    For the first time, I feel something other than hostility towards him. ¡°I know what that¡¯s like, believe me.¡±


    The waitresses and we p some cash down. I get up to leave. Finally.


    This must be the shortest date ever.


    To my surprise, Steve quickly follows suit. He looks just as anxious to leave, and I feel a little insulted by it. Frankly, I¡¯m still angry.


    He sticks out his hand. ¡°Better to get it over with early, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I say uprehendingly as I shake his hand.


    ¡°Well, you didn¡¯t really seem interested.¡±


    He gives me a sad little smile and I feel a little bit bad about my behavior. I don¡¯t say what I¡¯m thinking, which is that I lost interest the moment I saw him.


    ¡°Bye, then.¡±


    Whatever.


    I watch him disappear down the burgundy, carpeted steps to Grand Central Terminal. Opening my purse, I see that I¡¯ve a text message. From Vincent.


    Heat rushes into my face as if I¡¯m sitting in front of an open me.


    Tomorrow. 6 p. m. The Paramount in Times Square. 22nd floor, room 208. Don¡¯t bete.


    That¡¯s it. I try to scroll down for more, but there¡¯s nothing else.


    I guess that¡¯s all he wants from me. I¡¯m just another person on his payroll. Then it¡¯ll be easy, won¡¯t it?


    I¡¯m not sure that I¡¯ll be able to walk away.Exclusive ? material by N?(/v)elDrama.Org.


    * * *


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand why you¡¯re getting ready if you¡¯re going to quit.¡±


    I sigh furiously at Maria¡¯s judgmental tone as I¡¯m trying to apply eyeliner, squinting as I try to draw a straight line. The pencil trembles and smudges over my lid.


    Fuck. I suck at being a woman.


    ¡°He sprang it on mest minute after that disaster of a date. What am I supposed to do? Cancel on him? No fucking way.¡±


    I¡¯m wearing a red knit dress with art deco designs. I also decided to follow Vincent¡¯s advice to show more skin-er-cleavage. The girl in the mirror is a stranger to me. She¡¯s the girl I¡¯ve always admired from afar, but I was always too busy studying or too broke to do anything about it. Now she¡¯s standing in my cramped dorm room, surrounded by Maria¡¯s One Direction posters. She doesn¡¯t look like she belongs here.


    ¡°I look like Jessica Rabbit.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure all those grease balls will appreciate it,¡± she chuckles.


    The red-orange lip-gloss I applypletes the package. Goddamn, I look like a real woman. The dress hugs every inch of my curves and I tie up my hair, letting loose a few tendrils down my face. I¡¯ve never looked this good in my life. I didn¡¯t know it was possible.


    ¡°I¡¯m going all out tonight. Onest game. I want to get thousands and thousands.¡±


    What was the difference between a waitress wearing a low-cut shirt to get bigger tips and this? Nothing at all.


    Ah, but you¡¯re not just doing it for bigger tips, a slimy voice inside me says. You want him.


    Of course, I want him. Any red-blooded female would want a man who looked that good in a suit. But he¡¯s off limits.


    After getting ready, it seems like a waste of my effort to descend into the subway, but I can¡¯t afford a cab.


    ¡°Please be careful. Call me when you¡¯re done.¡±


    Her hovering behavior might be annoying to some, but for someone who has never had a parent care about where she was or what she was doing, it feelsforting. Like there¡¯s at least one person in this city of two million people who cares about me.


    I hobble down the steps of my dorm in my taupe heels, ignoring the admiring looks thrown my way, but secretly loving them.


    How am I going to tell him I quit?


    Every time I try to practice, the words freeze in my head. I can just see him glower. I remember the way he held my arm so tightly just because I wanted to take the subway and my blood feels like ice. It won¡¯t be easy telling him no.


    The subway is packed with students already fresh out of finals. Everyone¡¯s dressed up, ready for a night on the town, and so am I. I take 7th Avenue Local all the way to 50th street, where the gargantuan, shing screens are so distracting that I almost trip over a sidewalk. It¡¯s so loud, so noisy-there are hordes of people on the sidewalks and cars honking nonstop. It¡¯s New York City¡¯s chaos at its peak. There are garish ads for every majorpany and the whole block looks like a shing, out of sync rainbow.


    I don¡¯t know why the hell Vincent would host a card game in the middle of Times Square. Crossing the street, I bypass the superhero street performers and walk beside the theaters, where people are standing in line for Wicked. A giant Scientology building with at least ten TV screens res with a constantly streaming weing video. Then I see it: The Paramount.


    My jaw drops as the gilded doors open. It¡¯s dark inside-extremely dark, nothing you would expect a hotel lobby to be like. shing purple lights and club music pounds through the carpeted floors. It looks more like a lounge than a hotel. A strange perfume smell fills my nose as I head for the elevators. Tacky wallpaper covers everything.


    Heart pounding, I press the button in the elevator for the 22nd floor and I try not to think about what I¡¯m going to say, but of course I have to think about it.

 8

    I wipe my palms over my dress as the elevator rises to the 22nd floor way too quickly. I step outside, and immediately to my left is the same bouncer from before. There are men standing outside, but neither of them is Vince and my heart ms against my chest, but I walk there anyway. I have a job to do.


    One of them is the forty-ish man I recognize from before, Paulie. His head lifts up as he sees me approach. A shorter man, dressed in a suit, makes a startled movement.


    ¡°Whoa!¡± the other guy ejactes as his eyes feast on me. ¡°Who the fuck is this?¡± He doesn¡¯t say it rudely. ¡°¡®Scuse mynguage,¡± he adds.


    ¡°New dealer,¡± Paulie exins, giving me a warm smile.


    ¡°Hi, I¡¯m Adriana.¡± I extend my hand to shake, but he takes it to his lips.


    ¡°Adriana, this is Nicky. He¡¯s in our crew.¡±


    Our crew?


    Nicky kind of gives me the creeps. He keeps my hand in his grasp for a little too long, and I don¡¯t like the way he leers at me. It¡¯s with a little bit more than admiration, it¡¯s like he¡¯s wondering if he¡¯ll be able to fuck me at some point. I¡¯m just not used to this kind of attention, but I smile andugh like it¡¯s no big deal.


    The door opens for me and I step inside, not before hearing him whisper to Paulie, ¡°She¡¯s gorgeous.¡± My chest flushes with heat as I walk into an incrediblyrge suite with hardwood floors. All of its white, modern furniture is pushed aside to make room for the poker tables. The dealers are setting them up already. I try to look for Vince surreptitiously, but he¡¯s nowhere to be found. Dismayed, I try to grab one of the unfolded tables to set it up myself, but a guard I haven¡¯t noticed till now takes it from me.


    ¡°Let me do that.¡±


    He¡¯s a young guy, probably close to my age. He sets up the table for me before I have a chance to argue.


    Hell, just let him. You can¡¯t bend over in this dress, anyway.


    When he finishes setting it up, I drag a chair and sit behind the table, watching the door as people start to filter in. The people joining the games are even more mismatched thanst time. There¡¯s no party this time. It¡¯s clear that this is just business.


    When people start filling up around my table, I find out that we¡¯re ying poker. Awesome. I love poker so much more than ckjack, because there¡¯s so much more skill involved. It¡¯s not just about what kind of hand you¡¯re dealt. You have to be able to control your emotions and let the yers see only what you want to see.


    The young guy keeps a careful watch over my table as we begin the game. I can¡¯t believe how much cash some of these guys are ying. Thousands and thousands of dors in chips are casually flipped to the center of the table. A middle-aged man with sand-colored hair has a small mountain of chips. He wears sunsses that cover half his face and doesn¡¯t say much.


    The night wears on with people filtering in and out of the hotel suite.Content property of N?velDra/ma.Org.


    ¡°So where are you from?¡±


    One of Vincent¡¯s men peers down at me like he doesn¡¯t get why I¡¯m here.


    Honestly, neither do I.


    ¡°Um-I grew up in Brooklyn. I live in the dorms where I go to college.¡±


    ¡°You have a boyfriend?¡±


    My face burns. Seriously? I look at the table and they¡¯re all curiously still, as if wondering the same question. ¡°Uh-no.¡±


    The small talk continues between the men and me. Every one of them slides over a tip to me when they finish. One of them swears when he loses ten grand, but other than that it¡¯s pretty civil. I have to keep reminding myself where I am and who hired me to be here. It just doesn¡¯t seem real.


    The door swings open and cries of ¡°Cesare!¡± make me snap my head to the left. Vincent stands there in a dark suit, he kisses the man who greets him on both cheeks, and they p each other¡¯s backs before he turns around. I avert my eyes and realize that someone¡¯s waiting for me to trade them cards. I take them and deal two cards.


    There¡¯s a brief lull in the game and I look up again to search for Vince. He¡¯s making the rounds on all the tables, checking if everything¡¯s going okay, and finally he turns towards mine and his approach pauses as his eyes fall over me. I reach up and undo my hair, letting it fall down my back in waves. Their eyes flicker towards me, but I act like I haven¡¯t noticed anything. He crosses his arms over his chest and smirks, like he can see through what I¡¯m doing.


    ¡°Hey!¡±


    A voice snaps at me, and I realize I¡¯ve neglected the game.


    ¡°Sorry, sorry!¡± I rush back into it, dealing and shuffling the cards.


    ¡°We know Vince is pretty to look at, but try to focus on the game, eh?¡±


    The whole table roars withughter as I try to ignore how red my face must be.


    Vince slides around me so that I can¡¯t see him, but a sudden weight pushes my chair down and I can feel him grasping the head of my chair.


    ¡°She¡¯s prettier than I am, that¡¯s for sure.¡±


    The guys all nod in affirmation as a nervous, highugh leaves my throat. Vince¡¯spliment embarrasses the hell out of me, but at the same time it¡¯s umonly kind. But they¡¯re all pretty decent men. So far, I haven¡¯t experienced any nastyments, or unwanted grabs, or any of the uncouth behavior you¡¯d expect. His weight leaves and he stands against the wall. Dark eyes watch every move that I make. It¡¯s not likest time, when he was trying to catch a mistake. I can¡¯t quite put my finger on it.


    When the yers leave, I remain seated as my heart ramps up again. I¡¯m trying to steel myself to tell him-to tell him-


    He¡¯s towering over me. Vince sits down next to me, close enough for our knees to touch. He takes the box of my chips and smiles.


    ¡°Looks like you did quite well for yourself. I¡¯m d to see you followed my advice.¡±


    The tone indicates he¡¯s d I took his advice for more than just the money. I feel his eyes all over me, but it doesn¡¯t make me ufortable. He¡¯s not leering at me. He¡¯s just a man appreciating my beauty. There¡¯s no lust in his gaze.


    Vince takes his cut and I¡¯m trying to make a sound through my mouth.


    Go on, tell him! Say you¡¯re done.


    ¡°You¡¯re not going to tell your friends about this arrangement, are you?¡± His tone is suddenly sharp and a switch flips. All of a sudden, his posture over me is menacing, his dark eyes shing.


    I¡¯m taken aback. ¡°No! No, of course not. I know who you are, that would be-¡±


    The darkness recedes so quickly, I wonder if I imagined it. His smile cuts me off, almost as if he never meant anything by it. He looks almost harmless. The charm, the lightness in his voice-it almost makes me forget how dangerous he is.


    ¡°Of course, you wouldn¡¯t. You¡¯re a good girl. Aren¡¯t you, Adriana?¡±


    There it is again. That faint note of condescension that makes me bristle. Or maybe he just thinks I¡¯m a cute little thing. Not to be taken seriously.


    It boils my blood.


    ¡°Yo, Vince! We goin¡¯ out still?¡± A man calls from across the room.


    He takes my hand in his as he stands up. For the first time, I feel how rough his hands are. The calluses scrape against my skin. I use the gentle pressure in his palm to stand up.


    ¡°Some of the guys and I are going out. Come with us.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± It¡¯ste and the whole point of today was to quit working for him. It¡¯s in shambles, and I feel guilty about it.


    The gentle squeeze of his hand reassures me. ¡°Come.¡±


    How can I refuse?


    * * *


    The city is waking up.


    Times Square is flooded with people, who make the traffic horrendous. Vincent doesn¡¯t seem to mind. He¡¯s used to it, probably. He guns the engine when it¡¯s green, weaving around pedestrians effortlessly while I try to pluck up the nerve to quit.


    Stop fooling yourself. You¡¯re not quitting. Not with another three thousand in your purse.


    He¡¯s perfectly polite and cordial in the car, and it puts me at ease. Maybe this whole mafia thing is overblown. Maybe they¡¯re not that bad.


    ¡°Where are we going?¡±


    ¡°West Vige.¡±


    I know I¡¯m probably not supposed to ask questions, but I¡¯m intensely curious about this man. ¡°Is that where you live?¡±


    He grins. ¡°You want to know where I live, eh?¡±


    My face burns and I¡¯m upset at how easily he gets to me. ¡°No, it¡¯s not-I just-goddamn it,¡± I groan when his lips pull into a brilliant smile,ughing at me to let me know he¡¯s fucking with me.


    ¡°I¡¯m in the Upper West Side,¡± he says when theughter dies down.


    Do you have a girlfriend?


    Just the idea of asking him something so personal makes me wince.


    I keep thinking of things to ask him, but I¡¯m so painfully shy, so worried that I¡¯ll offend him that I keep my mouth shut. I¡¯m not normally like this, but everything about him, down to his disarming smile to his charm, makes me nervous. There¡¯s also the fact that he¡¯s a fucking capo. Maria and I watched a couple episodes of Sopranos to find out exactly what that meant. It means that he¡¯s a man of considerable power. He has a group of soldiers that hemands.


    All my information is from TV shows and movies, really. It does little tofort me. All it does is make the myth surrounding him even more powerful, and maybe that mystery gives him more power, too. People like me have no idea what his world is like, but I have an idea that I¡¯m going to find out. I can¡¯t help it. I¡¯m fascinated.


    The West Vige is far away from the madness in Midtown, filled with cute little shops and upscale restaurants and bars. He parks the car and we get out. Right away, I spot Nicky and Paulie walking side by side. Their heads perk up as they spot us.


    ¡°Hey Vince!¡±


    ¡°Hey.¡±


    I fall behind as Vincent and Paulie walk together, talking. Nicky walks with me, looking a little too happy to see me.


    ¡°Did you have a nice time tonight?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, sure.¡±


    ¡°Did anyone give you a hard time?¡±


    ¡°Nah, everyone was nice.¡±


    ¡°Let me know if anyone gives you shit. I¡¯ll take care of them for you.¡±


    He smiles like he¡¯s just joking, and I give him a shakyugh. I have no idea whether he¡¯s serious, and the harsh re cast on his face from the streetlights makes a chill travel up my back. We approach a restaurant after walking a few blocks. There are too many restaurants in New York for me to recognize this one, but the interior is very dimly lit. Rows of simple, clean wooden tables with white chairs. The walls are a cool, steel blue, barely lit up by dark orange wall lights. It¡¯s a wonderful restaurant for a date.


    Vince strolls up to the hostess and gives his name. She leads us right away down the narrow restaurant into a private room surrounded by walls of wine. The pale wooden tables are pushed together, white chairs surrounding the rectangle. We take our seats, Nicky pulling out mine, and Vince sits down at the head of the table, just a couple chairs from mine. He quickly orders several bottles of wine and the waitress pours sses for everyone. The door to our private room opens and more of Vincent¡¯s men filter in, taking their ces quietly.


    I don¡¯t really drink wine, but I take the ss and swirl it around. I inhale its scent, and marvel at the rich, floral tones.


    Once everyone¡¯s seated. Vincent¡¯s voice cuts through the idle chitchat and the room immediately falls silent.


    ¡°I want to thank you guys for making everything in Jersey run smoothly. Job well done,¡± he says simply, raising his ss. ¡°Salute.¡±


    Flummoxed, I raise my ss with the others and bump it against their sses. I have no idea what he¡¯s referring to. I feel like needles are prickling over my skin and I take arge gulp to settle my nerves. The normal,zy chitchat descends over the table and I listen hard as Vince talks to Paulie in a low voice.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to have some guys from the Jersey outfit join us in the next couple of weeks. I know it¡¯s not going to be easy, but the boss wants things to settle down.¡±


    Out of the corner of my eye, I see Paulie make a face under his wine ss. ¡°Fucking stupid cocksuckers. Who gave them the go-ahead to pinch those suits?¡±


    Vince lets out a rough exhale. ¡°Jack won¡¯t tell me. He says we need to put it behind us.¡±


    The older man shakes his head, a very ugly look on his face. ¡°There are no fucking standards anymore. Everything¡¯s about money. In my day-¡±


    He utters a warning sound as he notices me watching them and Paulie falls silent. Their eyes go right through me like a spear and I look away, my heart beating hard. What did it all mean?


    The appetizers arrive quickly, Vince having ordered already, and I turn my attention to the four ravioli sitting in a pristine white bowl. Creamy, yellow sauce covers the pasta and fresh bright green chives add color to the dish. We share the dishes and I take a bite of the ravioli. I¡¯ve never had anything like it. There¡¯s cauliflower and cheese inside the pasta. The sauce is made out of some sort of squash. It tastes incredible.


    A lustful smirk spreads over Vincent¡¯s face whenever the waitress, a stunning blonde, reenters the room. They smile at each other like it¡¯s not the first time they¡¯ve seen each other, and finally Vincent grabs her hand. Sheughs as she stumbles towards him, falling over hisp. His hand wraps around her waist, squeezing her hips as she giggles and tries to remove his hands.


    A hot, sick wave of jealousy makes me drop my fork onto my te, my appetite evaporating. I¡¯ve never been too great at hiding my emotions and I know my face is probably the color of a fire engine. Nicky looks at me, smiling, and his face falls.


    ¡°Hey, what¡¯s the matter?¡± he says in his loud voice.


    ¡°Nothing.¡± I want to look away, but unfortunately Nicky¡¯s seated on my left and I don¡¯t want to seem like I¡¯m ignoring him.


    ¡°You look upset.¡±


    His tone makes other eyes flick towards us and makes my head even hotter. I want to wrap my hands around his throat. I know he won¡¯t drop it until I make some sort of excuse.


    ¡°I¡¯m just a little tired, that¡¯s all.¡±


    Behind Nicky, their lips touch briefly and another flush of angry heat makes me ball my hands into fists. Is that his girlfriend? I¡¯ve never been this jealous in my life. I hate it. It¡¯s stupid. I don¡¯t want to be that girl. He has every right to kiss whoever he wants.


    I just wish it were me.


    Why do you wish it were you?


    Nicky turns his head and watches Vince and the girl, then he turns back to me with a sympathetic smile, like he knows. His look says: You poor girl.


    Great.


    I just hope he has enough tact not to tell Vincent, but he honestly seems like the type who would do it anyway. My eyes wander down the table, avoiding Vincepletely for the rest of the meal. Drink after drink slips down my throat and sadness tightens my chest. I can¡¯t taste anything. I can¡¯t see anything but my own despair. I always get like this when I drink too much, because every day I spend my energy blocking everything that upsets me. The alcohol loosens me up, makes me angry when I hear intrusive thoughts slipping through the crack under the door in my head normally kept firmly shut.


    First it starts with my jealousy, and how I never get what I really want. I¡¯d trade it all away; give everything up if it meant I would be happy. Life has been a ck hole ever since Dad died, because they got away with it. They got away with murdering Dad. Nobody is safe in this world and there¡¯s no justice. If only I listened to Dad and stayed in the bedroom, he wouldn¡¯t have died. I¡¯m sure of it.


    Everyone thanks Vincent as they head out to leave. My head pounding with wine, I approach Vincent and murmur thanks. I¡¯ll take the subway home. I don¡¯t think I can stand another half-hour in his presence. Looking at him feels like yet another failure.


    He grabs my wrist before I can walk two steps, very much like how he grabbed the waitress. ¡°Where do you think you¡¯re going?¡±


    ¡°Home.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m driving you,¡± he says it like it¡¯s obvious.


    ¡°I can take the subway. I¡¯m fine.¡± I¡¯m a little shocked at how hostile my tone is.


    Holy shit, Adriana. Do not mouth off to him.


    I¡¯m just d there are only a few people left in the room.


    ¡°You¡¯re drunk. I¡¯m not letting you walk around alone at this time of night.¡±


    Who the fuck does he think he is? I look at the other guys for help, but they¡¯re all wearing amused looks on their faces, like my behavior towards their boss is funny. The monster inside me wants to tell them to fuck off and leave me alone, but instead I stalk off towards the entrance and decide to wait for him there.


    ¡°What¡¯s her fuckin¡¯ problem?¡± I hear him say to Nicky as I leave.


    Oh, fucking great. Great job, Adriana. He buys a fantastic meal for you, and this is how you repay him?


    I¡¯ll never drink again.


    When Vince finally meets me in the lobby, his expression is unreadable. He doesn¡¯t look angry, and I take that as a good sign. We walk back to the car together, Vince asionally giving me curious looks. I wonder what the fuck Nicky said and I shake my head in embarrassment.


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you showed up at the game today.¡±


    Thement startles me so much I stop in the street. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t I?¡±


    ¡°I figured once you found out who I was, you wouldn¡¯t want toe back.¡±


    He raises his arm and unlocks his car. I stare at the blinking headlights.


    This is my chance. I could quit now, if I want, but I don¡¯t feel the slightest inclination to quit anymore.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t make sense,¡± he says as he leans against his car, his arms crossed.


    ¡°What doesn¡¯t make sense?¡±


    ¡°You.¡±


    His voice echoes in the nearly deserted parking garage. I rub my arm feverishly.


    ¡°Girls who go to a school like that don¡¯t get mixed into something like this, they don¡¯t get drunk at dinners with their boss, and they definitely don¡¯t mouth off to a guy like me.¡±


    Without even realizing it, I¡¯m standing in front of him, seething, but one look at him makes me realize that I better swallow down my rage. How dare he judge me? I want to set him straight, but it¡¯s none of his business anyway.


    ¡°Thank you for dinner. I¡¯m really sorry about everything. It won¡¯t happen again,¡± I say while staring at his chin.


    His finger sweeps up my neck, making me gasp as he lifts my chin so that I¡¯m looking into his eyes. ¡°Everyone¡¯s got something to hide. What are you hiding, Adriana?¡±

 9

    ¡°Mom!¡±


    My ear is ttened against the wooden door, and I can¡¯t hear any movement inside. Any sign that anyone¡¯s home. A siren wails in the distance, making me jump.


    Only a frantic phone call from my mother would make me abandon my obligation to deal at a card game. She may be a pain in the ass, but she¡¯s still my mother.


    ¡°Mom!¡± My fist hammers against the wood, rattling the cheap brass knocker, until finally I heard the turn of the deadbolt.


    The door is yanked open to reveal boxes piled up to the ceiling and my mother wearing ratty looking pajamas, a cigarette hanging from her lips and her hair mussed up like she just rolled out of bed. She looks at me with heavily lidded, calm eyes.


    She is perfectly fine, and although that relieves me-it makes me incredibly angry, too.


    ¡°Mom, what¡¯s the problem?¡± I ask as I step inside, immediately feeling my skin crawl from the stuffiness inside the house. Racks and racks of metal disy cages sit against the wall, the price tags still attached. Jade jewelry sits in a pile on the coffee table. ¡°What the hell is all this?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m making my own jewelry and selling it on EBay. These disys were on sale at Target. I saved a lot of money.¡± She grins happily as she shows me them and moves around the house, showing me more useless shit she bought because it was ¡°on sale.¡±


    I want to tear my hair out. She wasted my money on this junk? My hard earned money. I¡¯m so broke that all I can¡¯t even afford the meal n at school. Not mom. She has boxes and boxes of instant food, huge bottles of water shoved into a corner (in case of a disaster), and she even has beer.


    ¡°I know you said not to call you about money-¡±


    ¡°So you decided to lie to me to drag my ass all the way over here, wasting my time.¡± I want to rip apart her stupid jade jewelry and throw the beads in her face.


    She has the audacity to look offended.


    ¡°It is an emergency. Honey, I need money to pay for my electricity¡­my rent. Things are really tight.¡±


    Fury builds inside my chest. ¡°I already gave you money. You decided to spend it on junk. Not my problem.¡±


    I turn around to leave. If I hurry, I might not bete for the card game. I threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, but showing up like this would be better than not showing up at all.


    A bony hand seizes my arm. ¡°Don¡¯t fucking turn your back on me, Adriana! I need you, just like you needed me when you were little. This is how families have been for generations. In Italy, families live together, even when their children get married. You¡¯re supposed to take care of me.¡±


    ¡°No, Mom. You were supposed to take care of me.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and I think I did a pretty good job.¡±


    You didn¡¯t.


    Her brown eyes gleam as she looks at me, a tear streaking down her lined face. When she turns her head, the light catches her face in a way that reminds me when she was younger. She was better. She didn¡¯t hoard things until after Dad died. Against my will, I feel myself soften. What happened to my Mom? Why can¡¯t she heal?


    It¡¯s the same reason I haven¡¯t healed.


    She spends her days alone, stuck in this dreary house that needs so many repairs that she can¡¯t afford. There¡¯s no one to help her. No one except me.


    ¡°Please, baby. You¡¯re all I have left since Dad was taken from us.¡±


    ¡°What happened to your job at Target?¡±


    She looks down at my shoes. ¡°I quit. My back hurts from standing all the time. I can¡¯t do it anymore.¡±


    I can¡¯t do it anymore, either. Despair chokes my lungs as I realize I¡¯ll never be free of this. Of her.


    ¡°You¡¯re really lucky that I have a well paying job.¡± I sit down on an uncluttered space on the couch and rip out my checkbook. I had a feeling that I would need it. ¡°I¡¯m not giving you cash anymore, Mom. You just end up wasting it. I¡¯ll pay your bills, but I won¡¯t give you cash.¡±


    Her eyes narrow as she stands in front of me, exhaling smoke through her teeth to billow around me. I know she hates it. She hates being at my mercy. I won¡¯t let her control me anymore.Content property of N?velDra/ma.Org.


    I scribble out checks to PG&E, to thendlord, even to fucking Comcast. They¡¯re mmed against the table. ¡°Don¡¯t ever lie to me like this again.¡±


    ¡°Who the fuck do you think you are, talking to me like that?¡± Her hair shakes as she screams at me. ¡°I¡¯m your mother!¡±


    Standing up, I have a violent image of lunging across the table and wrapping my hands around her throat, squeezing until her eyes bulge. A secondter, I¡¯m sickened with myself.


    ¡°Bye, Mom.¡±


    She screams and rages at me the whole way out, and it takes everything in me not to turn around and fight back. All the hurtful insults roll off my shoulders.


    The door ms behind me and I strain myself trying to remember happy memories with my mom. There was a time that she saved enough money to send me to summer camp when I was thirteen. I was so excited about it. She blew the money on an expensive purse she saw that was on sale. I cried about it for days.


    My phone buzzes angrily and I reach inside my purse as I walk swiftly towards the subway. I mp it over my ear.


    ¡°Why aren¡¯t you here?¡±  The cold voice hisses in my ear. It¡¯spletely without warmth.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Vince. My mother said she had an emergency. I¡¯m on my way now.¡±


    At once, his voice softens. ¡°Is she okay?¡±


    The question makes me boil. ¡°Yeah, she¡¯s fine,¡± I say with a little heat in my voice. ¡°False rm. I¡¯m really sorry.¡±


    ¡°Forget about it. Family first. Just get here when you can.¡±


    What if I can¡¯t stand my family?

 10

    I¡¯m nearly sprinting when I get out of the subway, taking stairs two at a time until my lungs burn. Luckily the Hilton is only a couple blocks away. Inwardly, I¡¯m cursing my mother. I¡¯mte. I¡¯m not dressed appropriately.


    I don¡¯t care if a hospital calls me that my mother is on her deathbed. I¡¯ll never fall for that shit again. What a bitch.


    My hands rake through my tangled, messy hair. Not only is this unprofessional, but I don¡¯t want him to see me looking like this. The steel in the elevator reflects my image and I desperately try to make myself look presentable.


    Everybody¡¯s waiting for me when I burst inside. They¡¯re sitting around, eating cold cuts and smoking, chatting. I spot Vincent right away and I clutch a stitch in my side. He¡¯s dressed in a suit, looking impable as usual. He walks over to me and takes in my disheveled appearance with a smile.


    ¡°Did you sprint all the way here? I told you to take your time.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I gasp.


    ¡°C¡¯mon, hon. Everyone¡¯s waiting.¡± He tells the others that they can begin the game, and I slump into the seat behind the table, exhausted.


    ¡°So why did your mom call for an emergency?¡± Vince says as he stands beside me.


    My face burns in embarrassment. I can¡¯t bear to reveal how fucked up my mother is. ¡°She needed me to pay some bills,¡± I mutter.


    ¡°She couldn¡¯t just ask for that on the phone?¡±


    I can¡¯t even look at him. My voice sinks even lower. ¡°We don¡¯t have the best rtionship.¡± There¡¯s a lot more to it than that, of course, but he doesn¡¯t need to know that.


    I¡¯m d when Vincent seems to sense that the topic makes me upset, because he backs off on any more questions.


    It¡¯s ckjack today. I¡¯m starting to recognize some of the yers, but there¡¯s a new guy I don¡¯t recognize. He has a receding hairline and sses. His body seems oddly still, and I can¡¯t help but notice how he watches all the other yers. He doesn¡¯t engage in conversation because he¡¯spletely focused, watching the cards fly out of my hands, his foot tapping. A two of spades is dealt to the man on my left. His foot taps. A six to the next one. He taps again. A king flies to the next man and he yells in triumph, but there¡¯s no tap of his foot. Another four. Tap.


    rm bells ring inside me and I look for Vince, but he¡¯s across the room. I try staring at him, but he¡¯s not looking at me. No matter, there¡¯s a guard behind me.


    I turn around, smiling. My hands shake a little. ¡°Could you get me a drink of water?¡±


    It¡¯s the phrase Vincent told me to use if there was ever any problem. The guard nods and disappears from the table without attracting the card-counter¡¯s attention. I watch him slide against Vincent, whispering something in his ear. He shrugs when Vincent asks him something. Both of them make a beeline towards me and my breath hitches in my throat at the look on his face.


    He smiles at the table as he walks around casually, stopping behind me. Stooping down, I feel his breath on my ear and I shudder. ¡°What?¡±


    I turn my head carefully. ¡°The one with the sses,¡± I hiss. ¡°He¡¯s cheating.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re sure?¡±


    We¡¯re trying to be discreet, but by now the card-counter senses that something¡¯s wrong. His Adam¡¯s apple bounces as he rises from the table. ¡°I¡¯m out.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m sure!¡± I whisper back.


    Vincent doesn¡¯t utter another word. The expression on his face is dark and terrifying as he grabs the man¡¯s scruff and forces him back into the chair. The man cowers in his chair and gives me a terrified nce.


    ¡°Please, miss-¡±


    The plea rises into a yell when Vince takes him by the throat and ms his body backwards. His head smashes into the floor and his pant leg lifts up, revealing a device strapped to his ankle.


    There¡¯s a collective gasp around the table when everyone notices the electronic device attached to his hairy leg. It¡¯s a ck rectangle with electrodes and wires leading up his leg under his pants.


    The guard bends over and seizes it, unstrapping the Velcro. ¡°Holy shit,¡± he says as he turns it over in his hands. ¡°Check this out, Vinny.¡±


    Vince bends over the man, his hand still wrapped around his throat. ¡°You fucking moron. Counting cards at one of my games. You must have a death wish.¡±


    My blood runs cold at the venom in his voice. I¡¯ve never seen this side of Vince-the ugly, violent side, even though I always knew it existed. Vince¡¯s soldiers swarm around the man like hungry wolves. They grab his arms and drag him into the next room. He screams for help, but one of them sinks their fist into his stomach to shut him up. I hear them in the other room.


    ¡°You can tell your friends what happens to people who try to cheat us. We¡¯re not fucking around. Nicky, get the hammer.¡±


    The yers seated around the table flinch horribly as they hear his screams, until someone stuffs something in his mouth to muffle them. Then there¡¯s a hard, knocking sound and more muffled cries of pain. One, two, three, four, five. Every time the hammer smashes down, my heart jumps.


    I don¡¯t know what they¡¯re doing, but I have an idea. It must be fucking painful. An image of swollen fingers with joints the size of grapes floats in my vision.


    What have I done?


    Three of them grab him while he moans, cradling his hand. They drag him back into view and throw his ass out. The door ms shut and we all jump in our chairs and look at the table.


    I bite my lip hard. He did decide to count cards at a mafia card game. I mean, what did he think would happen? I tell these things to myself in an effort to make myself feel better, and I feel worse for attempting to alleviate my guilt. I should feel guilty, but his hand will heal and he¡¯ll learn a valuable lesson.


    I still can¡¯t help but flinch when Vincent reenters the room, and his sharp eyes zero in on me. The stolen pen floats in my mind and I suppress a shudder at the thought of what he might do to me if he found out.


    ¡°Jesus,¡± one of the yers mutters. ¡°I¡¯m out of here.¡±


    Spooked, he gathers up his chips and hesitates near the guards surrounding the man with the money. My face is hot and I feel slightly sick, like I should leave, too.


    It takes us a while to calm down while they reim all of the chips the cheat won. To my surprise, Vincent dumps a very sizable amount in front of me. His hands fall on my shoulders and he squeezes them in thanks, and my body heats up like nothing happened, like he didn¡¯t just smash a guy¡¯s hand with a hammer.


    God, what¡¯s wrong with me? Why am I attracted to this man?


    I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s the incident with my mother that triggers this feeling, but I¡¯m tired of letting opportunities slip away. I wish I were stronger. I wish I could scream at her to go fuck herself, and turn my back on her forever. I wish I could be the girl who asks the hot guy out.


    As I watch all the yers leave, I see myself leaving this ce and going back to my boring life at Columbia, of watching him make out with waitresses while I sit there, feeling my insides rot.


    Do something about it, Adriana. You want him? Go get him.


    This is so fucking insane. He¡¯s dangerous. I must be the dumbest person in the world.


    Approaching him with the box in my hand takes what seems like five minutes. He¡¯s still talking with Paulie, so I wait patiently for him to notice me. Frankly, I¡¯m content to wait forever. Unfortunately, his gaze flicks towards me and both men gaze at me with admiring looks.


    ¡°Adriana, you did a great job over there.¡±


    Great job? Is that what he calls getting a man¡¯s hand smashed? I hardly feel anything from hispliment because I¡¯m so nervous. ¡°Can I talk to you in private?¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡± He takes the box of chips from me and hands them over. ¡°Paulie, cash these out for me.¡±


    Vincent brushes past me and for a moment I¡¯m startled by his brusqueness, but I follow him into another room, a room with a queen bed. It¡¯s dark inside. For some reason, this makes my face incredibly hot.


    The door shuts.N?velD(ram)a.?rg owns this content.


    We¡¯re closed in together in this small bedroom. Vincent¡¯s turbulent energy clouds around him, affecting me. His face is unsmiling and his body is tense as he crosses his arms in front of me.


    ¡°I know what you saw probably upset you, but that¡¯s the way it is. In casinos, they throw people out for doing that. If I just let him off the hook without punishment, it makes me look weak.¡±


    I feel like he¡¯s cornering me. My legs hit the edge of the bed as he approaches me. I¡¯m so overwhelmed with being alone with him, actually alone, that I don¡¯t know what to do.


    ¡°If I catch another yer counting cards, I won¡¯t tell you. I¡¯m sorry, but I don¡¯t need broken hands on my conscience.¡±


    The shadows on his face darken. ¡°I guess that¡¯s fair, but I doubt it¡¯ll happen again anyway.¡±


    I take a tentative step towards him like a child. My hands clench and unclench at my sides, and I let out a nervousugh.


    ¡°That¡¯s not what I wanted to talk to you about.¡±


    Blood roars in my ears as his face smoothes over, his eyebrows raised in confusion.


    ¡°No?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Well, what is it, then?¡±


    Why is so hard for me to ask? Just ask!


    My arms fall limp at my sides, his dark eyes studying me with no emotion. He has no idea what I want from him. How can he not when I¡¯m practically shaking just being in the same room as him?


    ¡°Vince, are-are you married?¡±


    Oh, Maddon. I didn¡¯t mean to just blurt it out like that.


    The silence in the room is deafening. Every slight movement, every sound is magnified a hundred times. I can practically hear my skin burning.


    ¡°What?¡± Heughs slightly, his arms uncrossing. ¡°You pulled me in here because you wanted to know if I was married-?¡±


    ¡°Girlfriend?¡±


    His dark eyes shine with amusement. ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°But that girl at the restaurant¡­¡±


    His face shines with more and more humor. ¡°She¡¯s just a-friend,¡± he settles on that word finally. ¡°Why are you asking?¡±


    A cocky grin spreads over his face as his eyes shine mischievously.


    Smartass. He knows damn well why.


    ¡°Tell me.¡± Vince takes a strand of my hair, tucking it behind my ear. His hand grasps my neck lightly and his thumb caresses the jugr vein jumping in my neck.


    The soft touch prompts me to look at him. I can¡¯t look away from the intensity in his eyes. His hand feels amazing against my skin. I can¡¯t describe it. It¡¯s electric. I want to touch him, but I can¡¯t bring myself to do it. It¡¯s hard to exin, but I almost feel like I need his permission to touch him.


    ¡°I really-I think you¡¯re¡­¡± My voice trails off as his thumb continues its slow stroking of my neck and a wide grin spreads over his face. ¡°I can¡¯t think when you¡¯re touching me like that.¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡± Another one of his lowughs washes over me. His other hand reaches up and glides over my shoulder. He pinches a knot and rubs hard with his thumb. ¡°Adriana, you are a gorgeous woman. Absolutely beautiful.¡±


    My lips tremble when I hear the ¡°but¡± in his sentence.


    ¡°You don¡¯t want a guy like me. You go to Columbia. Girls like you get PhDs and marry medigans.¡±


    Medigans. My grandmother used to say that to describe non-Italians, or those Italian-Americans who lost their roots. Vince uses it with the same contempt.


    ¡°You don¡¯t know what kind of girl I am.¡±


    He sighs and smoothes the hair over my shoulders. ¡°You¡¯re a sweet girl, and I¡¯m not a good man. Look at what you saw today.¡±


    ¡°I know. I don¡¯t care.¡±


    Another look of surprise crosses his face before he speaks with a growl in his voice.


    ¡°I¡¯ll eat you alive, honey.¡±


    I believe him.


    ¡°Go ahead. Do it.¡±


    Maybe I want an all-consuming passion that keeps me awake at night, instead of bad memories. Isn¡¯t that exactly what I need? All I know, is that I¡¯m tired of the nightmares, tired of drinking, tired of feeling numb all the time. Around him, I feel.


    He has no answer to that, but I can tell that I surprised him. His hand continues his slow torturous massage while the other still strokes my neck, holding me still as if trying to seduce his prey.


    ¡°It really pissed you off when you saw me with that waitress, didn¡¯t it?¡±


    He loves, loves the attention. He¡¯s eating all of this up. This is torture for me, but it makes him so happy that I oblige. ¡°Yes, it did.¡±


    His thumb strokes my bottom lip, and I let out a sigh as he pulls me closer. I wrap my arms around his waist, sliding inside his jacket as his lips fall against mine. He takes my breath away with a hard kiss, his lips crushing mine. God, it¡¯s intense. The moment his lips touch mine, it¡¯s like being prodded with a live wire.


    Desire flows into my belly as he kisses me, and I can barely move because I¡¯m so surprised by how amazing the chemistry is. My hands wrap around his back, stroking the hard muscles under his shirt. His hands are still around my neck, his body following me as I lean back over the bed.


    My body takes control as if it has a mind of it¡¯s own. I tug at his shirt, unbuttoning the first few to catch a glimpse of his muscled chest. I grasp the tie tickling my skin and I pull down. Heughs against my lips and takes my hands in his, stopping me from undressing him. He kisses a line down my jaw, and I gasp as he licks and kisses my neck, his teeth nipping at me. I moan when he pulls down my t-shirt.


    The door knocks. ¡°Vinny!¡±


    Vince straightens himself as I jump horribly, his arms still wrapped around me as he addresses the door.


    ¡°I¡¯ming. Give me a minute.¡± He turns back to me, his face flushed and smiling. ¡°Well, I definitely didn¡¯t expect this. You¡¯re full of surprises, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    I don¡¯t want him to go. My heart is still pounding with the feeling of his lips on my skin. Every cell in my body screams for more, and the same battle seems to rage in his eyes.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but I have to go.¡±


    I sigh heavily and nod, but Vince takes my face in his hands again.


    ¡°Tomorrow at 8p. m, I¡¯ll take you out to dinner. Anywhere you want to go.¡±


    Wild happiness floods my chest as he kisses me again. This time, his lips are as soft as silk. They¡¯re barely there, teasing me. Then he pulls away, his hands drop from my skin. He turns around and heads out. His shirt is still unbuttoned, but I don¡¯t think he cares. There¡¯s a smile on his face that makes him look like he¡¯s on top of the world.

 11

    Can¡¯t-I can¡¯t. I can¡¯t breathe.


    He mouths the words, looking like a gaping fish, except blood sputters from his lips.


    ¡°Daddy! Daddy!¡± I scream his name like it¡¯s a chant-a magical word that will instantly cure him if he answers.Content property of N?velDra/ma.Org.


    The man standing over Daddy drops the knife. He looks confused. The other two bolt towards the door and he soon follows.


    Mom¡¯s hands are wrapped around his throat. Dark blood pulses through her fingers.


    ¡°Adriana, call 911! Go!¡±


    My hand is clenched over my cell phone when I wake up, my head echoing with my mother¡¯s voice. Jesus. Not again. My back is drenched with sweat and I throw back the covers, listening to Maria¡¯s soft snore.


    The agony over losing my father threatens to engulf me. Eying the mini fridge, I roll off my bed and grab the bottle of alcohol inside. I can¡¯t remember what it is and I can¡¯t see in the dark. It doesn¡¯t matter what it is-as long as it burns on the way down, it¡¯ll do. If only it could burn a hole in my head where the images were.


    I pour it straight into my mouth and swallow, wincing. I¡¯m still shivering in the dark, clutching the cold bottle to my chest. Faces, images, jump out at me. They materialize from shadows. I drink more from the bottle, a mouthful, and I cringe as it hits my stomach. It¡¯s fast. It¡¯s hard. I rece the bottle and stumble into bed, and this time I sleep the whole way through.


    * * *


    ¡°You¡¯re dating him now? Seriously?¡±


    Her clothes are strewn all over the dorm. A pink suitcase sits in the middle of the room, half-filled. She¡¯s leaving for France today, and I can¡¯t help but feel a bit relieved. At least I¡¯ll have two weeks away from her. Two weeks to breathe and quietly figure out what he hell I¡¯m doing with my life. She didn¡¯t take my failure to quit my job very well, and now I¡¯ve basically added a cherry to the top of a steaming pile of shit by admitting I was going on a date with him.


    I should have just lied.


    ¡°Not dating. I¡¯m going on a date.¡±


    I¡¯m already trying to decide which dress I¡¯ll wear, and it¡¯s only six. Biting my lip, I try to catch Maria¡¯s eye so that she might give me her opinion, but she just glowers.


    ¡°Look, sweetie. I know you really wanted a boyfriend-¡±


    I roll my eyes. ¡°Here we go.¡±


    ¡°-but I really think you can do better than him. I mean, seriously. He¡¯s a mobster.¡±


    I have a hard time looking at her because I know she¡¯s right. I know it¡¯s crazy. Logically, it makes no sense. How could there possibly be a future with someone like him? It doesn¡¯t matter how little sense it makes, I¡¯ve never felt so strongly about something I wanted in my life.


    When I want something, I get it.


    No amount of reasoning and pleading will make me change my mind. I touch my neck, remembering how amazing it felt when he kissed me under my jaw and down my neck; his fingers just brushed the swell of my breasts before we were interrupted.


    It might be crazy. I might forever regret it, but I have to do it. What can I say? I¡¯m stubborn.


    ¡°I¡¯m going on this date, Maria.¡±


    Her eyes narrow. ¡°Whatever. I think you¡¯re crazy for agreeing to go on a date with him.¡±


    My face flushes as I study myself in the mirror. ¡°Actually, I asked him out.¡±


    Bad to worse. Maria¡¯s newly dyed hair falls forward as she drops her face in her hands and groans.


    It¡¯s easy for her to say. They¡¯re not exactly lining up at my door, but I don¡¯t really care. I want him. Not Steve or any of these stuck-up, rich Columbia students that I have nothing inmon with. I¡¯ll deal with the consequences, whatever they may be. She¡¯s not even close to being done packing by the time I¡¯m all decked out for my date with Vince.


    I look at myself in the mirror and notice how pale and scared I look. I¡¯m in a little ck dress-a sexy,cy thing with heels that tie around my ankle.


    ¡°You need blush.¡±


    Despite her frustration with me, Maria grabs a pad of makeup from her vanity and a brush. She attacks my cheeks with the blush, the tiny bristles smoothing out the makeup. When she¡¯s done, I look slightly less like a vampire.


    ¡°Better.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a little nervous,¡± I confess in a small voice.


    She barks withughter. ¡°You got yourself into this mess.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not scared of him, not exactly. I¡¯m just nervous because it¡¯s the first date.¡±


    The severity of her frown lightens somewhat as she looks at me. ¡°Just be yourself, Adriana. And don¡¯t let him push you around.¡±


    With ten minutes to go, I throw my arms around Maria, who will be gone by the time I¡¯m back. ¡°Have fun in France.¡±


    Her tiny arms squeeze my middle. ¡°Be careful around him.¡±


    ¡°I will.¡±


    My heart throbs in my throat as I leave our dorm and descend the concrete steps. My phone buzzes with a text that is probably from him. I look at it anyway.


    Waiting downstairs.


    He¡¯s actually here. God, he actually showed. All of it seems like an absurd dream, even the sight of him leaning against his car in his suit, looking like a dark, handsome devil. I wonder if I am really courting disaster by dating a man like him.


    The devil grins at me. His tousled ck hair is styled back into rolling waves; his chin has a dusting of stubble. Vince opens the door for me and I climb inside his car, nervousness ramping up inside me like acid.


    When he gets into the driver¡¯s seat, I steal a nce at him.


    Why are you afraid to look at him? You made out with him yesterday.


    ¡°Where would you like to go?¡± he asks as he drives past the campus.


    I¡¯ll admit that I expected him to make the ns. Where would I like to go? My mind draws up a nk. I¡¯m used to food trucks and hot dog stands. Never have I been able to afford a meal at a nice ce, unless it was on somebody else¡¯s dime.


    ¡°Honestly, I¡¯d never been to anything better than a chain restaurant until you brought us to that restaurant in West Vige. I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll love whatever you pick.¡±


    ¡°Okay, then.¡± With a confident smile, he turns the car around, heading towards Midtown.


    ¡°So, what else do you do besides card games?¡± I ask him.


    ¡°A little of this and that. I dabble in a lot of different areas.¡±


    It¡¯s vague as hell answer, but who can me him?


    He sees my confusion and gives me a shrug. ¡°What made you want to be a dealer?¡±


    I blink. I¡¯ve never really thought about it. ¡°Well, it¡¯s not like I nned it. It just happened.¡±


    ¡°Why do this instead of-I don¡¯t know, being a secretary?¡±


    I give him a smirk. ¡°I like ying cards. Always have. My Dad taught me how to shuffle cards when I was little, and after that I yed with them all the time. Dealing is a lot more fun than flipping burgers at McDonalds, which is probably what I would have ended up doing if it weren¡¯t for you.¡±


    ¡°Does he know what you do for a living?¡±


    My stomach turns. ¡°He died many years ago,¡± I say in a flippant tone, but my chest constricts like there¡¯s a python coiling around it.


    His hands tighten around the wheel. ¡°Sorry to hear that. My father¡¯s dead, God rest his soul. A cop killed him.¡±


    ¡°A cop?¡± I exim.


    His voice shakes withughter. ¡°This town¡¯s full of crooked cops. No matter. He got hiseuppance.¡±


    Vincent doesn¡¯t borate, but his face says it all. A rather dark smile shes on his face, chilling me to the bone. When we arrive at the restaurant, I slip my arm around his as we climb up the steps. The gilded entrance shines in the dark, and a man opens the door for us.


    It¡¯s a low-lit, white-tablecloth type of ce. White gloved waiters float throughout the restaurant like ghosts. The hostess, dressed in a ck cocktail dress, seems to recognize Vince the moment he walks in.


    ¡°Good evening, Mr. Cesare. I¡¯ll find you a table.¡±


    He simply nods his head and she stalks away. I still haven¡¯t let go of his arm, enjoying being so close to him so much that I don¡¯t realize how strange I must seem. Then I finally let go of his bicep and let my arm fall, but he catches my hand and squeezes.


    Maybe it¡¯s because it¡¯s been so long since I¡¯ve done anything remotely romantic with a man, but I know I¡¯ll be sorry when the night ends. I barely know him, and it scares me how much I like him already.


    The hostess returns with two menus and leads us through the narrow restaurant, finding a secluded table against the brick wall. Even though the restaurant is packed, it feels peaceful. Quiet. The candle burns on the white linen, lighting up his face with a soft, golden light. Vince orders a bottle of wine and I¡¯m impressed with how quickly the sommelier appears, almost as if summoned by magic. I take a careful sip of the dark, red wine, which is pleasantly dry and rich.


    ncing over the menu, I realize that I¡¯m befuddled by all the descriptions. Butternut agnolotti with a sage brown butter topped with amaretti and buffalo mozzare.


    I don¡¯t know what half of it is.


    ¡°Do you want to try the tasting menu?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    He smiles wryly. ¡°They basically give small portions of several dishes as a single meal. That way you get to try a lot of different things.¡±


    That sounds great. ¡°Okay, sure.¡±


    The waiter takes our order and whisks away. I marvel at how good the service is. They materialize at my elbow and fill my sses without asking, and then they disappear silently.


    Vincent sits straight-backed, his face deceptively rxed. I remember how quickly he sprung on the card counter at the game. His whole aura is like a coiled snake, perfectly poised to strike at all times. Dark eyes meet mine, but they regrly slide over the windows in the back, the wait staff, constantly scanning for threats.


    ¡°Did you ever go to college?¡±


    Heughs like it¡¯s a funny joke. ¡°No. I wish I did, but no. Guys like me-half of us don¡¯t finish high school.¡±


    People like him? Boys who grow up into his line of work? But he doesn¡¯t seem like an uneducated man. He¡¯s articte and well spoken.


    ¡°Ma made me read a lot. I have hundreds of books at home.¡±


    A mobster who reads books. I can totally imagine him lounging on a sofa, bncing a book on his stomach.


    ¡°Your mom made you, eh? Why didn¡¯t she make you stay in school?¡±


    ¡°I never said I dropped out,¡± he says, giving me a little smile.


    ¡°What¡¯s thest book you read?¡±


    ¡°It was by some doctor in Canada. It was a text about psychopaths. He studies them.¡±


    ¡°Wow.¡± I totally didn¡¯t expect that.


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m interested in that shit. Getting into someone¡¯s head.¡± His shoulder lifts into a shrug.


    ¡°Can you get into my head?¡±


    ¡°No. I can¡¯t say I know a lot of Ivy League girls.¡±


    I don¡¯t feel like an Ivy League girl.


    I smirk. ¡°Does that intimidate you?¡±


    Heughs as if I said a funny joke. ¡°Not at all. It just makes you curious.¡± He gives me a searching look as he takes another sip of wine.


    I smile as the waiter drops a te in front of me. He describes the dish and I catch the words ¡°porcini mushroom ravioli.¡± I take a bite of the two pieces sitting in the cream sauce. It¡¯s delicious. The muskiness of the mushroomsbines perfectly with the cream. It seems as though there¡¯s a new dish every fifteen minutes: ricotta gnhi with pesto, truffle crusted Arctic char, and it goes on and on.


    The waiter drops a te in front of me, something that looks like a pair of ribs with sitting in some sort of dark sauce.


    ¡°Here we have a braised short rib with a cherry pepper and port wine ze, with fennel-apple puree.¡±


    My tongue sings as I pick up the meat with my fork and pop it into my mouth. It¡¯s incredible, rich, and acidic. I¡¯ve never had anything so vorful.


    Vincent eats his te like it¡¯s nothing out of the ordinary. He pours me more wine when he sees I¡¯m running low. He shes another secretive grin.


    ¡°Drink up.¡±


    I take a sip. I¡¯m already riding a really good buzz, and I don¡¯t want to ruin it by getting drunk. Although, I suspect that¡¯s exactly what he wants. ¡°Trying to get me to lower my inhibitions?¡±


    ¡°Something like that.¡± He smiles and tilts his head after a beat of silence. ¡°So, you got what you wanted. I¡¯m here.¡±


    ¡°You wanted it, too.¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t gotten what I want yet.¡±


    The sly suggestion almost makes me spit out my wine. Grinning like the sly devil he is, his gaze rakes over me like he¡¯s hungry for my flesh. He¡¯s a monster and he wants to tempt me to his home so he can devour me.


    I might just let him.


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you ask me out?¡± I ask suddenly.


    He looks at me without surprise. ¡°I¡¯m surprised you didn¡¯t ask me that sooner. I had to do a background check on you first.¡± He smiles at my astonishment. ¡°You¡¯re clean, aside from a minor shoplifting incident when you were twelve.¡± He waves a long finger at me and mouths, ¡°Bad girl.¡±


    I grimace. ¡°How the heck did you find that out? It was expunged from my record.¡±


    Vince stays mum, smiling secretly. ¡°What did you steal?¡±


    My cheeks burn as I remember the utter shame, how the security scanners beeped when I walked through the door. Mom was horrified when they made me empty my pockets, revealing the Tamagotchi I stole.


    ¡°It was just a small toy. I rarely had anything growing up, so I usually stole what I wanted. Everyone at school had one and I really wanted one, but I got caught.¡± Through the pleasant warmth of the wine, I feel a ripple of anger.


    ¡°And then you stopped.¡±


    It¡¯s too hot in the restaurant. ¡°Well, sort of.¡± It¡¯s time to steer the conversation out of these dangerous waters. ¡°How about you?¡±


    He fiddles with the tablecloth and shrugs. ¡°I¡¯ve tried to steal a couple times. My ma whipped my ass raw when she found out, and I never did it again. I got in trouble at school a lot.¡±


    ¡°For what?¡±


    ¡°I was too aggressive with the other kids.¡±


    I can just imagine him as a little boy, kicking the shins of another boy while ying ser.


    ¡°When was thest time you stole something?¡±


    My face burns and I deliberately look away from him. Thest time I stole something, I was with him. His pen. It glimmers in my mind. Of course, I can¡¯t tell him that.


    ¡°Uh-a couple weeks ago. I stole some gum.¡± My face flushes again.


    He shakes his head, grinning. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Why the gum? I don¡¯t know. I haven¡¯t had any in a while.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he says throughughter. ¡°I mean, why steal something so small? Why go through that risk?¡±


    ¡°I like it. It¡¯s thrilling because I know it¡¯s wrong, that I could get caught. You know what I mean?¡±


    ¡°I do,¡± he says, his dark eyes shining.


    He probably understands better than most.


    Wepse into afortable silence. Another dish flies under my nose and I¡¯m too tired to pay attention to what the waiter says, but I catch the words: praline, hazelnut, pistachio sauce, and espresso. Ayered chocte cake sits in front of me covered in green sauce with an egg-shaped mound of espresso custard sitting beside it. It¡¯s delicious, but I can barely take three bites. Vince takes a few small bites of his and pushes it away.


    ¡°I¡¯m so full. It was delicious.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, me too. It¡¯s almost too much.¡±


    A wave of uncertainty falls over me as the waiter brings the check. Now what? I identally nce over and my face burns when I notice that our meal cost him over five hundred dors.


    Jesus.


    ¡°Vince, you didn¡¯t have to.¡±


    He raises his eyebrow. ¡°I know I didn¡¯t. I wanted to.¡±


    I¡¯m speechless. It¡¯s such a huge gesture for a first date.


    ¡°Thanks so much for dinner. It was amazing.¡±


    He scribbles in the tip and signs the check. ¡°It was my pleasure.¡± Vincent stands up, shrugging on his jacket.


    Grasping the table, I stand up and immediately clutch his arm. My mind swims as I lean against him, but he curls an arm around my waist. I¡¯m hot all over, and I don¡¯t want the night to end. I walk as slowly as possible as he takes me back to his car. He waits until we¡¯re alone before he turns around, eyes zing.


    ¡°Come home with me.¡±


    I must have heard wrong. ¡°W-what?¡±


    He pulls me into his chest and kisses the dent just below my ear. ¡°Come home with me.¡± His hands clutch my hips as they move around me, just barely stroking my ass.


    I know what awaits me if I go home with him. I know it¡¯s way too fast, but I¡¯m in the mood to do something reckless, to break free from my mundane routine.


    ¡°Okay, then.¡±


    The silence in the car is deafening as we drive to his house, my head pounding unpleasantly with the wine muddling my thoughts. Maybe this is a mistake. I don¡¯t know what I was thinking. I shouldn¡¯t go home alone with a man like him, of all people. The only reason I did was because I drank so much. I¡¯m a fucking moron and I¡¯m going to get killed.


    Vincent watches me out of the corner of my eyes. His hand takes mine in myp and squeezes. ¡°Rx, Adriana.¡±


    I can¡¯t rx, even with lounge music ying in the background.


    He massages my hand with his thumb and it feels good. Sparks of electricity shoot up my spine. He parks the car and then I don¡¯t even have the music anymore. The silence suffocates me in that brief moment when Vincent gets out of the car. All I hear is pounding behind my ribs.


    My buzz is gone, leaving me insecure and shaky as I enter the biggest apartment I¡¯ve ever seen in Manhattan. It¡¯s all very masculine: dark wood, stainless steel, walls that make you think of blue metal, smoky brown ent walls. The city blinks underneath us. His living room has a fantastic view of the park and downtown.


    I sit down on a salt and pepper grey couch as Vincent mixes something in the kitchen, and I try to wonder how the hell I got here. A few weeks ago, I was just a run of the mill Columbia student with no idea what to do. Now, I¡¯m in an apartment that costs a least a couple million, going on dates with a prominent New York City mobster, and probably having sex with him, too.


    My face heats up like amp. I hear ice clinking into ss and liquid. His leather shoes clip over the tiles as he steps into the living room, handing me a ss. He sits down across from me; jacket discarded, and gives his drink a thoughtful look before taking a sip. He looks like his mind is somewhere else.


    ¡°It¡¯s a rum and coke.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡± I wrap my hands around the cold drink, hoping that my body will absorb some of the coolness and calm the fuck down. ¡°This ce is incredible.¡±


    ¡°Thanks. It¡¯s pretty new.¡± He takes a gulp of his drink, and I can see the alcohol hit him like a punch.


    I take a sip. Wow, it¡¯s strong. The rum burns down my throat. ¡°I¡¯m a bit nervous,¡± I admit.


    A bit?


    ¡°I noticed,¡± he says, smiling. ¡°That¡¯s okay, though. A lot of people are nervous around me.¡±


    He does that a lot. He throws out dark hints and suggestions without noticing, leaving me reeling in shock.


    ¡°Are you nervous, too? Is that why you have a drink?¡±


    Finally he makes eye contact with me, giving me smoldering look that makes me drink more.


    ¡°I don¡¯t get nervous.¡±


    Right.


    Heughs to himself and stands up, regarding the view for a moment before stepping around the table to sit down next to me. His thigh presses right against mine and his heavy arm slides on my shoulders, pulling me into his chest.


    Oh, God.

 12

    My legs slide over his thighs, the dress riding up as my heels drop off to the floor. I nestle into his chest as my heart pounds. A strange tingling sensation covers my skin. It¡¯s an incredibly sweet moment, wrapped around his arms.


    I shiver from his fingers stroking my arm. I can¡¯t see him, but I can feel his heart thumping against my head, slow and steady.


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to be so scared. I won¡¯t hurt you. Not yet, at least.¡± His lips find my head and he kisses it. ¡°Go on. Take a breath.¡±


    He¡¯s a lot gentler than I thought he would be. A shaky exhale leaves my mouth and his chest shakes with a chuckle.


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s a start.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not just you. I¡¯m like this around most guys.¡±


    ¡°You weren¡¯t like this at the games,¡± he says with a lilt. ¡°We don¡¯t have to do anything if you don¡¯t want to.¡±


    ¡°No, I want to.¡±


    The heat in my voice makes him chuckle. His other hand tilts my head back and his mouth descends on mine. It¡¯s electricity. My attraction to him res like a firework, bursting into colorful sparks. I feel it in the marrow of my bones. The surge of energy leaves me dizzy as I kiss him back hungrily, and then he pulls back with a curious look on his face.


    He sighs into my hair. ¡°I bring lots of girls here, Adriana. And it¡¯s always the same. I fuck them the way they expect me to fuck them, and then I drive them back home, but I don¡¯t get what I want.¡±


    Wide-eyed, I listen to his voice booming through my back. There¡¯s something terrifying about having it all out in the open like that. I have no idea where this is going.


    ¡°What is it that you want?¡±


    ¡°Complete control¡­¡± the fingers stroking my arm squeeze. ¡°Over you.¡±


    I¡¯m absolutely terrified, but there¡¯s something irresistible about him. The fear and everything thates along with him is intoxicating. I¡¯m reckless. I want to lose myself in him.


    ¡°You can have it.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t say that unless you mean it.¡±


    I inhale, my breath shaky as his eyes cut through me. ¡°I do mean it.¡±


    At least, I think I do.


    ¡°You have two choices, Adriana.¡± He bends his head closer and kisses me softly again, making my heart flutter. ¡°We can have it sweet and vani, and I can drive you home, or you can stay the night with me. The real me. I told you I wasn¡¯t a good man and you said you didn¡¯t care. Is that still true?¡±


    Everything inside me screams for me to leave. Go home. Do it now. Whatever he¡¯s suggesting sounds scary-sounds dangerous. The darkness in his eyes is real. The monster that bides its time is out to y.


    ¡°Will you hurt me?¡±


    He grins at my fear. Maybe he really is a monster.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take it easy on you.¡±


    Why would he want to hurt me? Excitement leaps inside my chest instead of horror. I think of all the times I had sex. They¡¯re no more memorable than the positions we used. They never made me feel anything real.


    I don¡¯t want the electricity to stop.


    I wipe my palms on my thighs and suddenly his zing hand wraps around my thigh, and my core clenches together from his touch. His hand boldly inches a path up my leg, the heat between my legs almost searing hot.


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    He closes his eyes and smiles. ¡°Yellow means slow down. Red means stop. Use them only if you mean it, Adriana.¡± He opens his eyes and strokes my neck softly until he sees me nod.


    Vincent stands up, holding me against him. He has to bend slightly to grab the hem of my dress and pull it up and over my head. Then I¡¯m standing in my ck panties and bra, but there is no time to feel embarrassed. He wraps his arms around my back as if in an embrace, unhooking the bra while he nts hot kisses on my neck. Then he pulls back, yanking down the bra as my nipples contract from the cold. They fall to the floor with a muffled sigh.


    ¡°Fuck me.¡±


    Hearing him swear like that makes me want to kiss him, makes me want to grab the hardness stiffening in his pants. His hands envelop my breasts, squeezing slightly as they curve around, exploring every inch of my exposed flesh. It feels so fucking good.


    Bending down, he kisses a trail starting from between my breasts, down my stomach, which twitches, all the way to the edge of my panties. His fingernails scrape my skin as he pulls them down, all the way down, and then he straightens.


    I¡¯m naked and he¡¯s stillpletely clothed. The slight tease of coarse fabric rubs against my skin. It¡¯s vulnerable as hell and I feel self-conscious about the various imperfections of my body, but Vince stands back, admiring every curve. He can¡¯t seem to keep his hands off me.


    My breasts tten against the rough fabric of his suit as he pulls me in and kisses me, his tongue forcing through and ying with my mouth. I can feel his other hand stroking my back, dipping down to slide over my ass to squeeze hard. Then he rotates it around my bony hip and curves over my mound, his middle finger dipping into me slightly. I moan when I feel him teasing me.


    He chuckles against my lips, sending white-hot electricity down my spine.


    ¡°You¡¯re so fucking gorgeous it¡¯s taking everything in me not to fuck you right now.¡± His lips are ruthless against mine. ¡°I don¡¯t understand why you hide a body like that.¡±


    A thin, high gasp leaves my throat when his fingers slide into me roughly. It hurts a bit at first, but then wetness quickly seeps around his fingers and I dig my fingers into his chest.


    In and out.


    Vincent¡¯s voice is amused, condescending. ¡°You like that?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    His fingers stop periodically to rub my clit, making me moan and move my hips against him. Then he slides them in again, knowing exactly where he needs to finger me. ¡°You want more? Want my cock inside you?¡±


    I¡¯ve never had a guy talk to me like that. It makes my whole face heat up. ¡°Yes,¡± I whisper.


    He chuckles again. I¡¯m so close, so fucking close to exploding. I¡¯m unbuttoning his shirt, kissing the exposed flesh, and then he pulls out.


    He pulls out.


    ¡°Don¡¯t stop-¡±


    His hand curves around my head and grabs a fistful of my hair. It¡¯s painful and his expression isn¡¯t kind anymore. All I see is rage.


    I¡¯m yanked down to my knees as Vince stands up, holding me in ce as he looks down at me.


    ¡°Suck my fucking cock.¡±


    His groin is right in front of my lips, his cock pressing against the soft fabric. I¡¯m so turned on that I¡¯ll do anything to get him inside me. I reach up, heart racing, undoing his belt and unzipping his cks.


    ¡°Faster,¡± he growls. His other hand ps my face. Not hard, but enough to make my blood boil. I nce up at him, his face lit with excitement.Exclusive ? material by N?(/v)elDrama.Org.


    ¡°I¡¯ll do it again, sweetheart.¡±


    Deep down, another surge of energy.


    What the hell is wrong with me? I¡¯m a feminist. I don¡¯t let men talk to me like that, but I know that this is just a game. It¡¯s a game I¡¯ve never yed before. His singsong voice makes me snap back to his cks, which I pull down his gorgeous legs. His hardness strains against his ck briefs. I kiss him through the fabric before I pull the briefs down. I don¡¯t even look; I feel him throbbing against my lips and take him.


    Vince sighs as his length slowly pushes into my mouth. He¡¯s so big that I can feel my lips straining to keep him in. My tongue ys underneath, stroking his underside. I hold him tightly, the other hand ying with the dark sac as my lips suck hard. Then his hands dig into my hair as his hips buck forward. He bends his knees slightly and my hands drop away, gripping his thighs as he fucks my mouth, making me gag. He slips his thumb in my mouth, easing himself in, gradually adding more of himself. Finally, he holds me still as he sinks down my throat, all the way down to the hilt. I gag and he removes himself, pping my face again. Hands clutch my jaw as my lips wrap around him once again. He pushes forward slowly and I¡¯m widening my mouth to amodate him. He stops when he¡¯spletely buried in my mouth. His hands loosen their grip on my hair and they stroke the side of my face as he groans.


    The sound strikes me all the way to my core.


    Holy fuck.


    I¡¯ve never done anything like this. It¡¯s so degrading. I¡¯m kneeling in front of a man I hardly know, naked, while he fucks my mouth. He¡¯s using my mouth like a blow-up doll, and I actually like it.


    Suddenly, he pops out of my mouth and he bends down, grabbing my arms to yank me upright. I¡¯m wondering if I did something wrong, but then his lips descend upon me and he¡¯s kissing me like he¡¯s in a fever dream. His cock is ttened against my stomach and a sharp ache twinges below my belly. Then his arms wrap around my legs and shoulder and he lifts me into the air. I marvel at his strength as he holds me in his arms and carries me somewhere.


    He kicks open a door and I have a view of solid gray walls before he drops me down on his bed. Vincent looks at me like I¡¯m prey; a wide smile stretches across his face as he unbuttons his shirt. He tosses it aside and finally, he¡¯s just as naked as I am. His body is just as I imagined-lean and cut. Then he bends down and picks something off the floor. It whistles through the air.


    A belt.


    ¡°Remember your safe words.¡±


    My body freezes as I watch him coil it in his hands, and then he advances towards the bed. Suddenly, he lunges with his arm and grabs my ankle. I shriek as he pulls me down the bed, close to him. There¡¯s a steely look in his eyes that makes ¡®yellow¡¯ curl on the tip of my tongue.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking about all the times you talked back to me, and I decided that you need to be punished.¡±


    Oh, God. I flinch as he leans forward and his soft mouth falls upon mine, giving me a kiss that ispletely at odds with his words. Then the tender moment ends and he pulls back, his face darkened.


    ¡°I hope you enjoyed that, because that¡¯s thest fucking kiss you¡¯ll get from me.¡±


    He grabs my shoulder in a bruising grip and turns me around so that my back is facing him.


    ¡°On your knees.¡±


    Trembling, my hands and feet shift positions so that I¡¯m on all fours, my backside facing him. He ces a palm on my thigh and moves up and around my flesh, squeezing.


    What¡¯s he going to do?


    Why am I letting him do this?


    Briefly, the sound of leather whistles through the air before my body lurches forward with a sharp, stinging blow. I scream in pain as my flesh smarts from the blow. Fuck, it hurts!


    ¡°The first time I met you, you talked to me like I was a fucking jerk-off.¡±


    His hand briefly rubs the raw wound. ¡°And again at dinner.¡±


    The belt sings through the air again, and I can¡¯t help it. My body moves forward to try and avoid the blow. I catch the tail end of the whipping, which brings tears to my eyes. He yanks my hips back and does it again, and a cry rips from my throat.


    Vincent¡¯s voice is indifferent to my cries. He pinches my raw flesh brutally. ¡°Then you argued with me when I generously allowed you sixty percent of your tips.¡±


    Yellow is at the tip of my tongue, but I scream a wordless cry when another harsh blow catches my ass. It burns like hell and tears actually stream down my face.


    ¡°You don¡¯t know your fucking ce, but I bet you do now, don¡¯t you?¡± He says it with augh in his voice.


    My shoulders slump in relief when the belt falls with a metallic jingle to the floor. His hands caress my throbbing ass, and then his fingers dig into my flesh painfully. ¡°Don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡±


    ¡°Good.¡±


    He climbs over the bed and pushes me down so that I¡¯m on my back. Vince climbs over me, his eyes wide when he wipes my tears away with his thumb.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡± he whispers.


    I nod as my hands move over his shoulders and neck, and despite promising not to, his lips fall over mine. They¡¯re rough and biting, just like his hands, which grab both of my wrists in one grip and pin them over my head.


    I¡¯m powerless. Completely under his control.


    My eyes are drawn to the trail of hair down his lean abdomen, leading straight to his cock. My legs spread as he pushes himself between them and my body seems to pound with both of our heartbeats. His cock is poised right between my legs, the tip rubbing against my clit, sending jolts of electricity through my body. Finally, he stops kissing me and his other hand wraps around my throat.


    His hips push forward and I gasp as his thickness enters me slowly, inch by inch. He stops, buried inside me, and I¡¯m breathing hard as if I ran a hundred miles. It¡¯s a raw pain, but it feels so fucking good. My walls expand around him. Before I can get used to him, he pulls out and pulses back inside. It¡¯s a little harder this time, and my breath hitches.


    Vincent finds his rhythm, using the hand around my throat to pull me against him, to fuck me harder. It¡¯s a little bit tight, but I can still breathe easily. My hands twist uselessly in his grasp. He covers my body, his lips breathing sighs over mine as he thrusts harder. A painful jab makes me moan, but his next thrust steals the breath away from me, it shakes out of me like a sob.


    At the same time, his hand tightens around my throat, his fingers digging into my neck. My breathing ragged, ¡®yellow¡¯ stays on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow it back down. Never have I been dominated like this. Never have I beenpletely owned by a man in bed. As he¡¯s pounding into me, I realize what I¡¯ve been missing all these years. All those pathetic, ten-minute trysts in bed were nothingpared to this man. He¡¯s a master.


    He lets go of my wrists as he ms harder into me, grasping my shoulder instead. My arms wind around his back and my nails dig into his skin as I begin to choke. It¡¯s fucked up, but the lightness in my head makes me soar higher and higher. Everything is more pleasurable and his cock digs into me, and my legs tighten around him to squeeze more of that ecstasy out of him.


    I feel it building and building as he fills me up and squeezes my neck, like he really wants me to die. It¡¯s too much, even if it feels so fucking great.


    ¡°Yellow.¡±


    His hand disappears from my neck and he clutches both shoulders to bury himself hard. And then I explode, arching my back as I convulse around him, wing his back. Then he pulls out and grips himself, and I watch him as hees. His shoulders twist as pleasure transforms his face, all of the intensity dropping away.

 13

    It¡¯s still dark inside when I wake and if it weren¡¯t for the smell of him wrapping around me, I would think it was all a crazy, lust-fueled dream. His broad back faces me and there are faint red lines etched into his skin. My whole body aches and I know I¡¯ll have bruises on my neck and ass.


    The alcohol is gone from my system, along with my hazy thoughts. I feel pressure building inside my chest. I wonder what¡¯s going to happen when he wakes. Will I see him again, or is this a one time only deal? No matter how fast and how fucked up it all was, it was the best sex I ever had. Bar none.


    And no nightmares.


    A faint ringing from his nightstand startles me. Vincent¡¯s body jerks and his armzily grabs the phone, pressing it against his ear.


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    I listen hard at the faint garble against his ear.


    ¡°Wait-what? No, I didn¡¯t hear about no fucking sit down.¡± His voice bes louder as he sits upright, his whole body tense. He looks back at me, sees my widened eyes, and gets up out of the bed to leave the room. ¡°I knew we should have taken care of it weeks ago¡­¡±


    When Vincent returns some ten minutester, I¡¯m tense under the sheets. He peels them back and joins me in bed, this time lying on his back, his eyes staring at some point in the ceiling.


    ¡°Come here.¡±


    I slide up against him, heart pounding as my head nestles on his shoulder, his arm curling around my back. It¡¯s making my skin heat to be on top of him, both of us naked. His attention seems to be somewhere else, his hands absentmindedly stroking my body.


    ¡°Is everything okay?¡±


    He shifts so that I¡¯m underneath him. His fingers stroke my neck, rubbing the sore wounds lightly with his thumb. ¡°Yeah.¡±


    That doesn¡¯t really answer my question, but I find that I don¡¯t care when Vince¡¯s body covers mine and he kisses me. His kisses almost seem like an apology for my neck.


    ¡°Did you enjoyst night?¡±


    ¡°Yes, very much.¡±


    Vincent utters a groan when I reach down to grab his hardness. He takes my hand away from him gently. ¡°You¡¯re going to hate me for this, but I¡¯ve got to take you back. There¡¯s a problem I¡¯ve got to deal with.¡±


    His eyes look remorseful, but still I can¡¯t help but worry that he is just using me.


    ¡°Believe me, I¡¯d love nothing more than to stay here in bed with you.¡±


    Tired and aching, I lean upright, nodding. I understand, even though I feel glum. Maybe I¡¯m just cranky because I¡¯m tired. We dress in silence; Vince pulls on something casual but still manages to look like he just went to a photo shoot.


    ¡°Don¡¯t look so sad, Adriana. You¡¯ll see me again.¡±


    It sounds like a promise.


    * * *


    The rest of my morning is restless as I toss and turn in my bed, my mind still zing with the mind-blowing sex I hadst night. Finally, I give up and slide off my bed, resigning myself to wakefulness. Maybe I¡¯ll go to the gym or read a book somewhere. After showering and applying a copious amount of makeup around my neck, I grab the phone on my desk and see several missed calls from unknown numbers.Exclusive ? material by N?(/v)elDrama.Org.


    ¡°Ms. Baldino. This is Larry from CFA again and under federalw I must advise you that this is an attempt to collect debt from you. We have a im in our office from American Express of 7, 348. 52.¡±


    Annoyed, I delete the message. They¡¯re just stupid scammers trying to get my information. I don¡¯t even have an American Express card. It makes my blood chill to hear them say my name. I know it¡¯s a scam, but it makes me uneasy. So much so that Ipletely forget about my ns to go to the gym. I walk into the living room, checking the mail pushed through the slot in the door, and see an envelope addressed to me from Sallie Mae. The private loans I took for this year¡¯s tuition is probably in. Columbia is too damn expensive to pay with just federal loans.


    I rip open the envelope and scan the single page. My eyes fall on a bolded word that makes my head spin: denied.


    Due to your recent credit score, your request for a private loan of $23, 548 has been denied.


    Denied. The word bleeds across the page as I hear a high-pitching, ringing sound. Denied? How could I be denied? My credit score isn¡¯t that bad. I only missed one payment and that was months ago. I pace in the too small dorm, wishing Maria were here so I could ask her what she thought.


    I open up myptop, silent waves of panic rising and crashing inside me. I don¡¯t acknowledge them. I can¡¯t. Surely, there must be some mistake.


    With heavy fingers, I type in the website that gives free credit score reports and enter in my information. Even though I fucking know what happened already, I still cry out when I see my credit score: 540.


    One credit card with a 7, 348-dor debt. A fifty thousand dor private loan taken from somepany I¡¯ve never even heard of.


    Mom.


    I back away from the screen, which seems too bright and my chest constricts. I can¡¯t breathe. It¡¯s like my throat has closed to a pin-sized hole. Everything inside me copses and I crumple over myself like a paper doll.


    How could she?


    My own mother.


    The slightest twinge of doubt makes me grab my cell phone. I have to confirm it. I have to know for sure-and a part of me wants her to admit it. I stab her number in my phone and hold it to my ear. It goes to voicemail. I call again and again until finally she blocks me, or it goes straight to voicemail.


    ¡°Fucking bitch!¡±


    My scream echoes in still apartment as I curl my fingers around my phone. I need to cancel the card, but I can¡¯t fucking do it. I would have to dere it as fraud, and then they would investigate the charges, and eventually Mom would go to jail. I try her number again. No answer.


    I yank my purse off the wall. Fuck it. I¡¯ll break down her goddamn door if I have to. Her silence has already confirmed what I suspect, but I need to hear her admit it. I check my phone restlessly as I get on the subway to head for Brooklyn. Lately, her house was filled with more useless crap than usual. She stole my identity to pay for all of it.


    It¡¯s a beautiful day outside when I finally emerge from the subway, but I can¡¯t enjoy it. There¡¯s always something in the way, always something bringing me down, and I¡¯m ready. I¡¯m so fucking ready to cut her out of my life. Finally.


    After running two blocks, I approach her shitty, crumbling brownstone and I hammer the hell out of her front door. My fist is like a battering ram. Finally, the door swings open and my mother stands there in her too-small pajamas, a cigarette trailing out of her mouth.


    She doesn¡¯t look at all surprised to see me there. Mom, steps aside, kicking a stack of newspaper to make room for me.


    I hate this hovel. It¡¯s a nightmare. I always think about what Dad would say if he saw his house in this condition and it depresses the hell out of me. Do you ever think about all the ways your life could go wrong? Well, that¡¯s what this house is. A literal nightmare. My Dad died here. We all did.


    The door closes, shutting me into her stuffy maze of junk. She sits down on the couch, but I don¡¯t want her sitting down. She has no business sitting down when I want to rage and scream at her.


    ¡°Why the fuck did you do it?¡±


    ¡°Do what?¡± she says tonelessly.


    ¡°Don¡¯t fucking do that. A fifty thousand dor loan and a credit card in my name? You didn¡¯t think I would notice?¡±


    ¡°I needed the money, Adriana. You wouldn¡¯t listen to me.¡±


    I want to shatter the calm on her face.


    ¡°What, to buy this shit?¡± I seize the stack of Vogue magazines sitting on the chair next to me and hurl them all. They¡¯re all the same issue. They slide all over the floor as my mother protests. For too long I amodated her disease, sitting on stacks of things on furniture instead of a clean space. Fuck her. She screams in protest.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care! I don¡¯t give a shit about any of this! You ruined my life. I can¡¯t stand you.¡± I watch her bury her face in her hands and I hate her. I hate her for her fucking crocodile tears. ¡°Fucking cry. Go ahead. I¡¯m going to file a report and you¡¯ll go to jail for fraud.¡±


    She stands up, screaming. ¡°They¡¯re not just my debts! They¡¯re your dad¡¯s!¡±


    What?


    It¡¯s another trick. My hand¡¯s on the doorknob, but she¡¯s standing there like she said something horrible. Her pajamas tremble.


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡±


    She presses her thin hand over her eyes, shaking her head. ¡°Oh, Adriana. Your dad wasn¡¯t a good man.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°He left us with a lot of debt. I¡¯ve been paying it all this time! That¡¯s why you were never able to have anything nice in your life, because he left us with nothing.¡±


    ¡°Bullshit!¡± I explode. ¡°I never had anything nice, because you blew it on all on this shit we didn¡¯t need.¡± I kick the stack of metal racks leaning against the wall.


    ¡°No, that¡¯s not true.¡± Mom walks closer to me and I see that the dark roots of her hair have grown in. Her nails are chipped and her face is ashen. She hasn¡¯t taken care of herself for weeks. ¡°You know it¡¯s not true. Look around. I don¡¯t have anything near the amount I borrowed. He was bad with money, Ade!¡±


    ¡°How much?¡±


    She just shakes her head.


    ¡°How much?¡±


    ¡°I-I¡¯ve paid half already. There¡¯s two-hundred thousand left.¡±


    In my mind I count all the zeros, because counting is better than feeling the emotional destruction in my soul. One, two, three, four, five.


    There¡¯s no way I can make a dent in that amount of money.


    And I know when I see my mother¡¯s shoulders curl forward that she¡¯s just as much as a victim as I am.


    ¡°Show me. Prove it to me.¡±


    My mother shows me all the ounts made in his name, the invoices, most of them casinos.


    ¡°This is not all of it. I don¡¯t have receipts for all of it, but you get the idea.¡±


    So my father was a degenerate gambler. I swallow that down like it¡¯s poison.


    There¡¯s no way I can make a dent in that amount of money.


    And I know when I see my mother¡¯s shoulders curl forward that she¡¯s just as much as a victim as I am.

 14

    I¡¯m spiraling.


    Everything was going so well.


    My father was a gambling addict. The man who taught me how to y cards, who brought me toys from work, is a degenerate.


    Vincent hasn¡¯t called or texted or anything in the days since our date, and I¡¯m desperate to hear back from him because I need to beg him for more work. I¡¯m fucked. When a week passes, I¡¯m all out of alcohol and there¡¯s nothing left inside me to distract me. I¡¯m on the verge of calling him. My finger hovers over his name, but my nerve fails me every time.


    At this rate, I¡¯ll have to drop out of school.


    Hell, who am I kidding? School¡¯s not an option at this point. Mom¡¯s car is repossessed, and she was about to be evicted until I paid her mortgage.


    Iy on the wooden floor, too exhausted in my mind to do anything else. Every time I think about the debts, the gambling, I want to throw myself off Brooklyn Bridge, or drop down to let the cars run over my body repeatedly.


    Life shouldn¡¯t be this hard.


    A buzz vibrates the wooden floor and all my lethargy disappears. My hand strikes the phone and it skitters across the room. Fuck. I get up and grab it.


    There¡¯s a card game tonight in the Upper East Side. Another fancy hotel. Joy. My stomach roars as I continue to lie there. I haven¡¯t eaten all day and all I had yesterday was a can of soup. I spent almost everything trying to pay off my mother¡¯s credit card debt.


    My nostrils re as I look at myself in the mirror to apply makeup. Heat flushes my face when I think about it. I know it¡¯s not her fault, but I resent it. More than anything, I wish I could check out of all of it. I wish her problems weren¡¯t mine. I wish, I wish, I wish.


    A sh of that anger extends to Vincent, too. I didn¡¯t expect him to fuck me and toss me aside like a used condom. What the hell did you expect? He is who he is. I know better than to show him how angry I am, though. The bruises on my ass are only just healing.


    Still, I can¡¯t help but feel a squirm in my guts when I enter the hotel suite and see him leaning against the wall. My hands feel hot and a tingling sensation spreads over my body, especially the ces where I remember him touching the most. Nicky and the whole crew is inside, and I grit my teeth because I¡¯ll have to be pretend to be the cute, nice girl they¡¯re all used to.


    I stalk across the room to the tables as if I can¡¯t see him. I march straight to my seat behind the felt table and hardly nce up when I see Vincent standing in front of my table. Ignoring him, I say hello to the yers joining my table.


    A swell of guilt expands in my chest as I look at their faces. Was my father like one of them? Who were these people, anyway? I can¡¯t stand the thought of helping men piss away their savings because it destroyed my family.


    The chips bounce on the table towards me, but I could care less. I know I¡¯m doing a good job, but my heart is not in it. Then I notice one of the yers staring at everyone else¡¯s cards, muttering under his breath while his drink sits untouched on his left.


    Another card-counter.


    Unbelievable.


    Did he not get the memo from the guy with the broken hand?


    Heat flushes my face. Fucking moron, risking his neck to cheat in card games operated by the mafia. I see a wedding ring on his finger and I inhale sharply. Maybe he¡¯s made a habit out of it? Maybe he¡¯ll leave his family in debt, and ruin their lives for the next thirteen or so years while their mother spends every hard working dime they earn on frivolous crap.


    ¡°Are you fucking kidding me?¡± Pure rage explodes out of my chest in a shaking, high voice. He stares back at me with a telltale, deer in headlights look. ¡°Are you some kind of moron? Get out of here.¡±


    He doesn¡¯t argue, he bolts from his chair like a rat, but Vincent strides across the room and meets him with a fist to his stomach. The man drops to his knees and Nicky gives him a good kick in his ribs before both men, swearing profusely, drag him out of sight. This time, they take him outside where we can¡¯t hear his screams.


    My head pounds when theye back in, talking with their heads bent together. I feel so weak by the end of the night that I can barely croak out a goodbye when the yers leave. I slump over the table, my head in my hands. The anger drains out of me, along with all my energy.


    Did I have to explode like that?


    A hand slides over my back and his lips kiss the shell of my ear. ¡°You¡¯re a bit of a hothead, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    My head¡¯s even more lightheaded when he grasps my chin and turns it towards himself. He kisses me without waiting for an answer, and I sigh into his mouth as my headache lifts. He breaks away, closing his eyes with a happy smile.


    ¡°I haven¡¯t forgotten you. I¡¯ve been really busy this whole week, so that¡¯s why I haven¡¯t called.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, well. A text would have been nice.¡±


    He frowns as he sits back, looking at me. ¡°Are you all right?¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t eaten all day, but Vince-¡±


    Vincent¡¯s head rises above the table. ¡°Hey, Nicky!¡± he bellows across the room. ¡°Get me one of those room service menus.¡±


    Exasperated, I grab his arm. ¡°Vince, you don¡¯t have to.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous.¡±


    Nicky drops the menu in front of us and Vincent picks it up, thumbing through it. ¡°What would you like?¡±


    ¡°Whatever. I¡¯m too tired to eat.¡± I slump in my chair.


    He gives me a sharp look. ¡°You need to eat, Adriana.¡±


    His tone is remarkably like my grandmother¡¯s when she was still alive. I don¡¯t remember much about her, only that she was obsessive about feeding anyone who visited her house.


    Are you sure you don¡¯t want anything? Yes, Nonna. There¡¯s some leftoversagna. No, I¡¯m not hungry, thanks. Have some of this tapioca pudding, go on! No, I¡¯m fine, thanks. Adriana, you need to eat!


    My chest shakes with a small chuckle and Vince looks at me with a pinched, worried expression. It¡¯s cute to see him worry over me. He opens his phone and actually orders room service, which floors me. Why is he doing all of this for me?


    As he hangs up the phone, his round eyes stare at the table, his profile stern. He¡¯s less upbeat than usual, less sure, but his hand finds mine under the table and he squeezes hard.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking about you.¡± His hand squeezes mine as he shes me a secretive smile.


    ¡°Me too.¡±


    ¡°Really? Because you don¡¯t look very happy to be here.¡±


    The way he sees right through my carefully put-together disguise makes the whole thing crumble and my other hand grabs his. I¡¯m lost, and he¡¯s the only solid thing in my life.N?velD(ram)a.?rg owns this content.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been going through some things. Vince, I need to ask you for more work. I really need more work.¡±


    His eyebrows lift and his expression is stony. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Something happened and I might not be able to pay for my tuition in the fall.¡±


    Dark eyes seek me out, pinning me to my chair as he leans over. He doesn¡¯t look nice anymore. He looks like he could snap my neck.


    ¡°What happened?¡±


    I don¡¯t know what he¡¯s thinking. Maybe he thinks I blew away all my money, but even that would be preferable to the truth. The source of my troubles is my dead loser dad and living loser mom. The shame of living with that truth builds up behind my eyes and Vincent¡¯s unrelenting stare doesn¡¯t make it better.


    ¡°Okay, you don¡¯t have to tell me now,¡± he says in a soft voice. ¡°You need more money?¡±


    I blink away tears. ¡°Yes.¡±


    He takes my hand and pulls me so that I¡¯m sitting across hisp. It surprises me, and I make a little yelp as his arms wrap around my shoulder. The other smoothes over my thigh. I¡¯m dizzy with his warmth all around me. I nestle right under his chin and I can smell his cologne through his shirt. It has notes of sandalwood and cedar, and something deeper that I can¡¯t identity, something that might just be his natural smell. It¡¯s a little overwhelming to be in hisp like this.


    ¡°I could lend you money,¡± he says as he strokes my leg. ¡°With interest of course. Then I would own your sweet ass until you paid me back.¡±


    The offer is tempting-not his money, being his.


    My hands slide up his chest and I grab his tie as he lowers his head to my face, threading his hand through my hair. I kiss him with the desire building up inside me. I¡¯m hungry in every way, but he¡¯s in control. He holds me back.


    ¡°I¡¯ll pick you up tomorrow. I¡¯m free during the day.¡±


    That¡¯s it. Nopromise. No asking me whether I was free-just telling me to show up with a growl in his voice, like I¡¯ll be sorry if I refuse him. I know that I would be.

 15

    My feet slip on the floor as I run into the kitchen, grabbing the white telephone off the hook. Dad¡¯s still gasping on the floor. Mom screams as the pool of blood grows wider, touching her knees.


    ¡°9-11 what¡¯s your emergency?¡±


    ¡°My daddy¡¯s been hurt!¡±


    ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°A man stabbed him. Please hurry!¡±


    I can¡¯t hear him anymore. His feet are facing me, and asionally they twitch.


    ¡°His face is blue! HIS FACE IS BLUE!¡±Exclusive ? material by N?(/v)elDrama.Org.


    The phone drops from my hands and the excited voice of the operator fades. I run across the room to Dad, and slip on the blood. Ind with it all over my hands. I see his blue lips and face no longer struggling. My mother leans over his body and utters an unnatural sound. The worst screams I¡¯ve ever heard ripped from a human¡¯s throat.


    ¡°Oh, GOD! He¡¯s dead!¡±


    ¡°Daddy?¡± I grab his shoulder and shake it, and I scream as his face stays in that horrible, painful expression.


    * * *


    My head still pounds with the dream when I meet him downstairs. I¡¯m d to see he¡¯s dressed in more casual clothes, because I did the same thing. He looks delectable in jeans and a t-shirt in a way that he doesn¡¯t in a suit.


    I love the way his jeans fit, the way his white shirt makes his skin glow. It¡¯s a in outfit, but he¡¯s so stunning that he doesn¡¯t need much. Other girls strolling through campus give him admiring looks, but he only has eyes for me.


    ¡°You look great.¡±


    My face heats up and I grin. ¡°Thanks.¡±


    ¡°Where do you want to go?¡±


    I don¡¯t really feel like staying indoors. ¡°How about Central Park? We can just walk around. It¡¯s so nice out.¡±


    He seems surprised to hear me suggest that. ¡°Sure.¡±


    The campus is so close to the park that he finds a parking garage and we walk the few blocks towards the north side entrance. I take his hand in mine, d not to be alone. He helps me forget all of the crazy shit in my life, even if it¡¯s only for a few hours.


    It¡¯s a brilliant day, perfect blue skies with cotton ball clouds. He¡¯s smiling to himself as we enter the North Woods. It¡¯s cooler under the shade of the trees, and dark and moist. It¡¯s wonderful to escape the noise and excitement of the city under the shelter of trees, and smell earth and pine instead of gas fumes. Our feet crunch over dead leaves as we walk through the path in silence. I look at him again and he¡¯s still smiling.


    ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡±


    ¡°I just didn¡¯t think you would want to do this. Most girls want to go to a movie, or they want to take a ride somewhere or go on my boat.¡±


    ¡°You have a boat?¡± I fake an excited squeal andugh when he gives me a look. ¡°I¡¯m low key. I don¡¯t need boats.¡±


    ¡°What made you change your mind yesterday?¡± he asks suddenly. Vince veers off the path and pushes me gently against a tree. ¡°At the game.¡±


    His arms pin me against the tree, trapping me. His eyes won¡¯t let me go.


    ¡°I was angry about something.¡±


    ¡°Tell me.¡±


    Damn, he¡¯s bossy. One look at his face, and I know he¡¯s not fucking around. He expects me to tell him the truth.


    ¡°Tell me why you¡¯re hurting for cash.¡±


    ¡°Why do you want to know?¡±


    ¡°Because if you¡¯re mixed up in something, I deserve to know.¡±


    I know what he¡¯s thinking. He¡¯s worried I¡¯m a loose cannon. That I have a drug problem or a baby daddy or something serious that would make me want to risk my neck in illegal gambling.


    ¡°I found out this week why my student loan was denied. My mom stole my identity. She took a credit card and a fifty-thousand dor loan in my name, and if I can¡¯t make twenty grand in a couple months, I won¡¯t be able to go to school.¡±


    Vincent¡¯s face falls. His eyes grow round and his mouth is parted, apparently speechless. ¡°Jesus Christ.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°Does she have a drug problem?¡±


    ¡°No, she has debts. It¡¯s pretty bad.¡±


    ¡°So she decided to steal from her daughter?¡±


    The sight of his face, contorted slightly in disgust, makes me realize that my predicament really is awful. That my mom really is a terrible person, along with my father. It¡¯s so embarrassing just to be rted to them. I feel like a failure.


    ¡°I¡¯ve done a lot of drinking this week.¡±


    I slide away from the tree, unable to bear the look of his pitying face any longer. Bending over, I grab a couple of rocks and throw them as hard as I can against a tree. Knock-knock.


    His handes out of nowhere, grabbing my fist full of rocks. ¡°I¡¯m thest person who would normally suggest this, but have you thought of going to the police?¡±


    I shake my head. ¡°I can¡¯t send my mother to jail, Vince. She¡¯s all I have left.¡±


    Leaves crunch as he shifts and moves behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist to hold me. ¡°My offer still stands, you know. You could borrow from me.¡±


    He nips at my ear as I shiver in fear. I barely know him, but I know that I never want to owe him anything. I turn around in his arms and tten my chest against him as I wrap my arms around his neck.


    ¡°Never.¡±


    ¡°Wise choice. I¡¯m afraid I would take advantage of you.¡±


    The smile on his face makes my knees weak and suddenly he¡¯s pulling me down, kissing me with his magnificent tongue and mouth. His hands lift up my shirt and I grab him, face flushing.


    ¡°What are you doing? The trail is right there!¡±


    His eyes are zing. ¡°So what? The risk makes it fun. I¡¯ve never had sex in public.¡±


    I giggle. ¡°Well, me neither, but-¡±


    ¡°But what?¡± he grins. ¡°Someone might see? Who cares? Let them watch.¡±


    ¡°We might get arrested! Plus, you can¡¯t do all the things you want to out here.¡±


    He looks at me like I¡¯m challenging him. ¡°Oh, I can¡¯t?¡±


    Laughing, I don¡¯t take him seriously when he rips off my t-shirt. I squeal in protest when he balls it in his fist and throws it at least five feet away.


    ¡°You¡¯re crazy!¡±


    I¡¯m twisting against the tree, trying to see if there are any people watching. Vince takes the opportunity to reach around my back to unclip my bra. My face burns when it falls down my arms. He takes that too and hurls it deep in the woods.


    ¡°Hey!¡±


    ¡°Be quiet,¡± he growls in my ear as he yanks at the waistband of my jeans.


    I¡¯m struggling with the heat of being half-naked with him, and fear that at any moment, someone might stumble upon our tryst in the woods and call the police.


    And I¡¯d be hauled off to jail.


    For what? Public indecency?


    At the same time, my blood gallops through my veins as if I drank too much five-hour energy. His eagerness to fuck me right here in the woods is downright crazy.


    It¡¯s also hot as hell.


    My jeans and panties are ripped off my body with some difficulty, they¡¯re skinny jeans and they don¡¯te off easily, but he manages it. Then I¡¯mpletely nude, the dappled sun kissing my skin and my nipples contracting as he covers them with his hands, groping and massaging the sensitive skin with his thumbs. His mouth lowers to them and he takes my breast in his cavernous mouth. A wet muscle ys with my nipple, flicking it hard. I arch my body against him and forget all about the world around me. His tongue moves in slow, tantalizing circles and I feel electricity shooting everywhere. I seize his head of hair and pull hard as I gasp loudly, almost screaming as he sucks, leaving my nipple raw.


    He sucks hard around my nipple, leaving bright red patches everywhere before he attacks the other breast. Vince grins wickedly as I yank his hair and take high gasps.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to alert the whole world to us.¡±


    ¡°Sorry!¡± I gasp.


    ¡°Don¡¯t apologize. It turns me on like you wouldn¡¯t believe.¡±


    Looking down, I can see the outline of him straining against his jeans and I wrap my hand around him. All of a sudden, I hear footsteps and leaves and the blood drains from my face. Vincentughs at my fear softly, sliding a hand up my thigh. I whisper a warning but he gives me his devil-like grin, sliding his fingers along my soaking clit. They prate me easily, sliding up the slick walls and making me moan when I want to keep quiet. He kisses me hard, and gradually I hear the footsteps disappear.


    ¡°Vince, please.¡±


    His lips fall on my neck. ¡°Oh, now you want me to fuck you? Beg me.¡± His brown eyes shine with mischief.


    ¡°Fuck you.¡±


    Suddenly, he yanks me over his knees and his hands smooth over my ass. I¡¯mpletely exposed to the trail, having lost the small protection of the tree.


    ¡°Everything¡¯s healed. Too bad.¡±


    Then I hear the sound of his belt buckle pping through his loops and my heart races.


    ¡°No, Vincent.¡±


    He chuckles and I hear him looping the belt in his hand. I¡¯m just waiting for that terribly loud, cracking sound. I know I¡¯ll scream. I know it.


    ¡°You¡¯re so disrespectful. It¡¯s absolutely disgusting.¡±


    I tremble as he ps my ass lightly, his palm kneading my flesh before disappearing.


    ¡°Vince, wait-¡± my voice lifts into a scream as the belt strikes the same spot he whipped days ago. It¡¯s still sensitive.


    ¡°Shhh,¡± he hushes. ¡°You need to learn-¡±


    SMACK!


    ¡°To obey.¡±


    It¡¯s so raw that tears spring in my eyes.


    ¡°I¡¯m a bastard, how many times do I have to tell you? Still, you treat me like I¡¯m one of the jamooks sniffing around your pussy, hoping to getid. I¡¯m no fucking jamook. I can do anything I want to you.¡±


    I can¡¯t exin how badly his words affect me. I want to be owned by him. I want him to do anything he wants to me. Even the veiled threat in his voice turns me on instead of scaring me. I grit my teeth as he whips me again, my backside clenching to brace against the pain. Then he pulls me up on hisp and grabs my neck, looking at me with a mixture of amusement and deadly serious calm.


    ¡°Well? What do you have to say for yourself?¡±


    Is this part of the game?


    It doesn¡¯t really matter. There are more footstepsing and voices.


    ¡°Hey, Did you hear that?¡± Some voices call out in the distance.


    I hear the voices, my blood chilling as Vince tries to suppressughter.


    ¡°I-I¡¯m really sorry.¡±


    ¡°As you should be.¡±


    Suddenly, I¡¯m lifted into the air as he drops his jeans. My legs tighten around his waist as I feel his hardness against me and then he thrusts upward violently. My back scraps the bark as he enters me roughly, his face red as he pounds hard. I marvel at his strength as my whole body shakes with the force of his thrusts. Fingers twist in his hair and I¡¯m moaning in his ear, so loudly I can hear it echo. To silence me, his lips seal against mine and his tongue shoves down my throat.


    I¡¯m trying so hard to be quiet, but then Vince groans out loud and the wet smack of his hips against me is so loud, that it hardly seems to matter. He throbs inside me mercilessly. I¡¯m nearly ripping out his hair with the effort of squeezing him and keeping myself silent, and then I be undone. I exhale with a shuddering cry and Vince, his face screwed up as he pulls himself out of me,ing over my stomach.


    He lowers me to the ground, his arms trembling as he sets me down and helps me clean my stomach off. I¡¯ve never seen him look so happy. Laughing to himself with a big grin, he retrieves my clothes one by one.


    I¡¯m still a pile of jelly, basking in the glow of my orgasm, even my sore ass.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe no one saw us.¡±


    ¡°Well, they definitely heard you.¡±


    Thement makes me blush, and I can¡¯t pull on my clothes fast enough, which are now covered in dirt. The bastard is fully dressed of course, but he enjoys watching me struggle. When I pull everything back on, I stand up and try to brush off the leaves clinging to me.


    ¡°We should head back to my ce. I¡¯m covered in dirt.¡±


    We walk back to the path and reach the streets in less than five minutes. Vince gives me a guilty smile. ¡°Guess we didn¡¯t walk very far.¡±


    Heading back into campus with him is strange. We¡¯ve never walked through it together. He marvels at the gigantic library in the distance.


    ¡°That¡¯s a library? Jesus. It looks like the Capitol in D. C.¡±


    Iugh and take his hand as we climb the stairs to my dormitory. The guard doesn¡¯t even look twice at Vince, who ispletely out of ce.


    He wraps his arm around my waist while I unlock the door.


    ¡°Is your roommate home?¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡± A smile flicks on my face.


    Everything in me screams for a shower. Part of me is a little embarrassed by the state of my dorm. My side of the room is a mess, while Maria¡¯s is neat.


    ¡°This is where you live?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    His tone is unimpressed. I think he expected something much grander after seeing the library. Vince wanders towards my side of the room and hops on my bed. His gaze wanders all over my cluttered desk with the ss snow globe I¡¯ve had since I was five, the nk walls, and the deck of cards sitting there. He picks them up, frowning.


    ¡°By the way, I might have found an associate who wants you for his games.¡±


    I¡¯m already stripping off my clothes, eager to jump in the shower, but when he mentions that I stop. ¡°Thank God.¡±


    Darkness stirs in his eyes as he looks up from the cards. ¡°I don¡¯t like it, Adriana.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t like sharing you.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not like I¡¯ll be sleeping with him.¡±


    He cringes at the suggestion. ¡°I know, but it still bothers me.¡±


    I frown. ¡°And I¡¯m supposed to share you?¡±


    His eyebrows knit together. ¡°What does that mean?¡±


    My eyes bore into his as I cross my arms over my chest. ¡°You know damn well what it means. I know that you¡¯re a yer.¡±


    Vincent¡¯s face cracks into augh as he doubles over, nearly dropping the cards. ¡°A yer, huh? That¡¯s what you think of me?¡±


    Heat flushes my face as I look at him, wondering if I somehow offended him. No, he looks amused. Slipping off my bed, he moves close to me in one stride, close enough to make me tremble under his hot gaze.


    ¡°Is that what¡¯s bothering you? I haven¡¯t been with anyone else. I don¡¯t have any ns to, either, not while I¡¯m having so much fun with you.¡± He smiles. ¡°I gotta be honest, though. I¡¯m not the type who gets tied down.¡±


    Looking in his eyes, I know that he means it. Deted, I nod towards the floor. Wearing nothing but underwear, I stand on my toes to kiss him. I feel his smile under my lips as he kisses me back. I think he¡¯s starting to realize how much I like him, that he might just know how bad I have it for him.


    I decide then to give it back to him. The pen I stole. Biting my lip, I pull back and open the drawer with all my stolen crap. He gapes at me as I grab the pen and ce it in his hands.


    ¡°How the fuck did you get this?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry. I stole it from you the night we met.¡±


    ¡°You stole from me?¡± He sounds angry, but his voice cracks withughter. ¡°Do you know how crazy I¡¯ve been, looking for this thing? It belonged to my father.¡±


    I¡¯m burning all over. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Vince. Sometimes I can¡¯t help it. I would have returned it to you earlier, but I was scared of you.¡±


    His hand clenches over the pen, which returns to his pocket. His shirt lifts and I¡¯m surprised that he doesn¡¯t have a gun. A smile spreads over his face. ¡°You¡¯re not scared of me anymore?¡±


    ¡°No, you¡¯re not even carrying a weapon.¡±


    He grins as he bends over and lifts his pant leg, revealing a pistol strapped to his ankle.


    ¡°Do you bring it everywhere?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    Vince shakes his head. ¡°Because of who I am, Adriana.¡± He gives me another unsettled look as he pats down his pockets. ¡°I still can¡¯t believe you stole from me.¡±


    The way he says it makes me squirm with guilt. ¡°I¡¯m not a bad person, it¡¯s just a bad habit. I can¡¯t help it.¡±


    ¡°I should belt your ass until you bleed.¡±


    With a wolf-like grin, he grabs my waist and pulls me towards him.

 16

    Sunday is lonelier than usual, because it¡¯s the day I usually have dinner with Maria¡¯s family and she¡¯s still not back. Instead, I spread the huge course catalog over my legs and try to figure out which sses I¡¯ll register for.


    That would, of course, require picking a major. It¡¯s something that still eludes me after all this time. Growing up, I entertained the notion of bing a policewoman. I wanted to find those responsible for my father¡¯s murder. Justice. Revenge. It¡¯s all the same, isn¡¯t it?


    Anyway, I figured out long ago I didn¡¯t have the right temperament to be a cop.


    Besides, I¡¯m a criminal now.


    Fear pricks all over my skin as I realize how deep I¡¯ve sunk into this job. It was only supposed to be temporary, but things changed. I spend more time looking up ways to be a better dealer and poker strategies than focusing on my future at Columbia.


    I was so eager to get ahead that I never let myself stop and think about it for a moment. How am I supposed to know what I like when I¡¯ve been working all my life? Every single avable moment was spent earning another dor. And it still is.


    Shoving the huge book aside, I pull myptop over my knees and browse the Inte. Checking my mail, CNN, the local news.


    Long Ind murder had mafia links


    Carmine Cutti, 23, was gunned down outside a deli store, police said Monday.


    Cutti is suspected to be a low-level associate of Gio Vittorio, boss of the Vittorio family.


    It¡¯s proof that the Vittorio-Rizzo feud still rages, sources believe.


    ¡°This was a retaliation,¡± a source said. ¡°Cutti stole a truck of suits in Jersey that was under the protection of the Rizzo family. They¡¯re sending a message to the Vittorios that anyone who encroaches on their territory will be dealt with ruthlessly.¡±


    Cutti had a lengthy criminal record, including several counts of assault with a deadly weapon.


    My heart thumps a dull beat behind my chest as I click away from the page.


    One week ago.


    Was that what caused Vincent to leave so quickly after he received that phone call?


    A hollow feeling opens somewhere in my chest, somewhere close to that horrible emptiness that blew open when my father died.


    I don¡¯t know what to do about it.


    My mind feels like a vice by the time midnight rolls around, and I¡¯m tossing in bed. When Vincent¡¯s face swims in my head, I feel a chill like a cold finger running up my spine. My sheets feel constricting and I throw them back, leaning upright and my bare feet hitting the cool floor as I step into the darkness that I fear so much. I run quickly into the bathroom and flip the light switch, my pulse racing.


    It¡¯s really quite pathetic to be so old and still be afraid of the dark.


    Sshing water over my face, I grab the hand towel and pat it dry. I wince as I look at my reflection. Sunken eyes, pale skin, puffy cheeks, and hair in desperate need of a brush. I grab my brush handle and attack my head with it, obsessed with making it look better even if I¡¯m only going back to sleep. A sound creaks through the living room that makes me freeze in the middle of brushing my hair. I listen hard, hearing nothing but the slight buzz of the light and the traffic in the street outside. Still, I turn off the light and make a dash for my bed, for the safety under the covers.


    The clip of shoes on the wooden floor makes me scream and a brutal, male hand grabs my wrist. He yanks me into his body and smothers my scream with his hand. I elbow his side hard, but it¡¯s like elbowing a brick wall. It nces off his rock hard body and then he wraps his arm tight around me, so that I can¡¯t struggle. I inhale a shrill gasp, hearing his heavy breaths in my ear, feeling the strength of his body that¡¯s impossible to ovee. I¡¯m going to die.


    His lips kiss me behind me ear and I struggle madly, attempting to stomp his feet, but they¡¯re made of hard, ck leather. It hurts me more than it hurts him.


    ¡°Nice to see you, too.¡±


    A callous, gritty voice that I recognize very well growls in my ear. He nts more lecherous kisses on my neck, and a pleasurable shiver runs up my leg.


    ¡°Vince?¡± My voice mumbles through the hand. He slides it down my face before his thumb caresses my bottom lip. ¡°You scared the shit out of me.¡±


    His low chuckle vibrates through my back. He¡¯s still holding me as if I¡¯ll burst out of his arms the moment he lets go. That deadly energy has taken over him again. I¡¯m only wearing panties and a t-shirt, and I can feel him stiffening behind me. Still holding me hostage, he bends down and yanks my panties down, his hand smoothing over my stomach and dipping down to rub circles around my clit.


    ¡°I was in the neighborhood,¡± he whispers in my ear.


    It doesn¡¯t take long for me to shudder with a moan. Suddenly, he bends me over so that I catch the edge of my bed. He wrestles with his pants and his hardness throbs against my entrance. I inhale sharply as he shoves forward, impaling me in one swift stroke. His hand curls around my hipbone, pulling me back as his other grabs a fistful of my hair, pulling hard.


    There¡¯s something incredibly hot about being taken like this in the dark. I cry out, my back arching as Vince pounds me relentlessly. His grip bes crueler as his thrusts deepen; striking a spot that makes me groan. My legs shudder as energy builds up with each ruthless thrust, my head is yanked back and it¡¯s painful, but I don¡¯t care. I don¡¯t want him to stop.


    He buries himself to the hilt and keeps my hips against him, and finally I¡¯m set off, my orgasm heating my skin. He pulls out and groans, stroking himself to make hime.


    Both of us finished, we stumble towards the bathroom and I flip the light on, gazing on his face for the first time that evening. Vincent¡¯s face shines with a red mark below his eye, and then I see the state of his suit. It¡¯s torn in several ces and dirty, like he¡¯s been in a fight.


    He sees the worry in my eyes and his hands soothe my shoulders. ¡°It¡¯s all right, Adriana.¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯ve been in a fight!¡± I gently touch the red mark on his face and he winces. ¡°What happened?¡±


    He gives me a sharp, suspicious look. ¡°I¡¯m fine. Let¡¯s take a shower.¡±


    Geez.


    I start to protest, but Vince is already stripping the rest of my clothes off. I sigh as he strips his suit off, throwing it unceremoniously on the ground, before I turn on the shower. I wait until steam fills the small bathroom before climbing inside. The small shower really isn¡¯t tall enough for him, but he doesn¡¯t seem to mind. He hisses in pleasure as the hot water beats down on his sore muscles.


    The sight of his naked body beaded with water droplets, rivulets running down his muscr thighs, makes me want him again. He looks beautiful with the water moistening his face and hair. Vince takes me in his arms, the heat of his body flush against mine, and kisses me. The red mark on his face inmes with the heat and I feel a dull throb in my chest.


    ¡°Does this have anything to do with Cutti?¡±


    All the drowsiness leaves his face as he grabs me by the shoulders, pinning me against the cold tiles. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I read about it in a newspaper article.¡±


    His face rxes somewhat. ¡°No,¡± he says. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t read those stories. They¡¯re all bullshit.¡±


    I¡¯m somewhat perturbed by his outright lie. ¡°Then why did you get tense when I mentioned the name?¡±


    Vince gives me a look. The look that reminds me that he¡¯s not an ordinary man. ¡°Don¡¯t get cute with me, Adriana. You have no idea how dangerous it is for someone like you to ask those questions.¡±


    ¡°Someone like me?¡±


    ¡°Someone who knows too much for their own good.¡±


    I swallow hard, not quite understanding him, but my skin recoiling as if he just made a threat. I¡¯m sleeping with a captain, I remind myself, but that doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m safe.Content property of N?velDra/ma.Org.


    Still, he softens his words with a kiss, one that makes the butterflies inside flutter.


    After we¡¯ve dried off, Vincent shrugs back on his clothes.


    ¡°Please stay with me.¡±


    He hesitates, shoving his leg in his trousers. The sea of disquiet in my soul suddenly rises over my head in a huge wave.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be gone before you wake up.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s okay.¡±


    Vince follows me, slipping behind me into bed. There¡¯s no space for him to move away from me, but he doesn¡¯t want to anyway. His arm curls around my waist and his breath billows over my neck.


    ¡°I hate being alone in this ce. Anyone could just burst in and kill me.¡±


    He smiles against my neck. ¡°What? It¡¯s a college campus. Who would want to kill you?¡±


    ¡°People get killed all the time for no reason.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s thising from?¡±


    I turn around to face him in the dark. He¡¯spletely shrouded in darkness. It makes it easier to talk to him. I stare at him the dark, willing myself to see his eyes, but I can¡¯t. My mouth opens and closes.


    ¡°It¡¯s true. It happens.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but that¡¯s something you don¡¯t ever have to worry about. Least of all when you¡¯re with me.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you worry about it?¡±


    His hands stop stroking my waist as he considers it for a moment. ¡°No.¡±


    It can¡¯t be true, and yet his voice is clear and strong. He¡¯s not going to get killed. Other people, maybe, but not him. How I wish I could have that calmness in my life. What¡¯s it like not to worry?


    ¡°You can¡¯t spend your life thinking about what could or might happen. That¡¯s no way to live.¡±


    A long sigh leaves my mouth. ¡°You¡¯re right.¡±


    He reaches out and pulls me into his chest like I¡¯m a ragdoll. The steady heartbeat calms me. It¡¯s utterly peaceful. I¡¯ve never felt this safe in my life. When I¡¯m with him, I¡¯m not afraid of the dark.


    He is the dark.

 17

    Tap.


    It sounds like footsteps, like the noise Vincent makes when he walks across the floor. Vincent? Who¡¯s Vincent?


    Tap.


    Their shoes walk all over our floor, dirtying the hardwood floors as men in suits circle around the still body like vultures, taking Proids.


    My knees are still filthy with Dad¡¯s blood.


    I¡¯m thest of him. His blood dries on the floor. Soon it will be washed away and his body will go in the ground to rot and I¡¯ll be the only thing left in the world keeping half of his DNA alive.


    Tap.


    ¡°What¡¯s this kid doing here?¡±


    Someone grabs my shoulder roughly, turns me away from the scene as they pull me into another room. A grizzled, old man looks at me through bushy, dark eyes.


    ¡°I need you to tell me what happened.¡±


    I can¡¯t talk. What just happened? It¡¯s like I¡¯m in another dimension and his words echo out to me, trying to contact me.


    ¡°Listen, sweetie. You need to talk to us. We need to find out who did this to your Daddy.¡±


    Grabbing the nket on the couch, he wraps it around me because I¡¯m still shaking. It¡¯s not from cold, but I cling onto it. Daddy used to sleep on the couch, sometimes, and Mom would cover him up with the nket. It was the only tender thing I ever saw her do.


    ¡°Call social services,¡± someone says.


    Tap.


    Waking up from the dream is like swimming through a dark, murky pool. I clutch my sheets against my chest like it¡¯s the nket.


    ¡°Delivery!¡±


    I almost fall out of bed when someone knocks on my door. The clock on the wall reads: 9am. It¡¯s way too early. I yank open the door, and a youngish guy stands in front of me, holding a paper bag.


    ¡°Good morning! You¡¯re Adriana Baldino?¡±


    I blink. ¡°Yeah.¡±


    He hands over the bag to me, which is quite heavy. And warm. Puzzled, I nce back at him.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t order anything, buddy.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s already paid for. Bye!¡±


    He turns around and leaves as I back into the room, confused. There¡¯s a note taped on the outside of the paper bag. I unfold it.


    Good morning, beautiful.


    ¨C V


    Laughing, I set it aside and open the paper bag. A delicious, spicy smell fills the room and I reach inside, grabbing the styrofoam box. Inside, there are a couple Italian hot links and a croissant. I smell the freshly baked, key dough and I bite right into it, moaning when it falls apart in my mouth. There¡¯s also a cup of cappino in a styrofoam cup. I smile to myself and bring it all into my room, carefully stepping around Maria¡¯s luggage. She came intest night.


    Grabbing my phone, I step back out and call Vince¡¯s number.


    ¡°Hello there.¡±


    Right away, my heart thumps when I hear his gravelly voice.


    ¡°Good morning to you, too.¡±Exclusive ? material by N?(/v)elDrama.Org.


    ¡°You got it?¡±


    ¡°That was really sweet of you. Thanks.¡±


    ¡°No problem.¡±


    ¡°What are you up to?¡±


    ¡°Nothing much. Just thinking about you.¡±


    Smiling, I take a sip of coffee. ¡°Yeah? Howe?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Maybe because I like you so much.¡±


    He sounds almost troubled by that. I grin against the phone, twirling a loose strand around my finger. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t.¡± I wince and immediately regret it. I¡¯m so bad with men.


    Vince takes it in stride. Heughs a deep bellyful. ¡°Smartass.¡± Theughter dies and Vince sighs into the phone. ¡°There¡¯s a big game tonight.¡±


    The way he says it makes tense. ¡°Big game?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯ll pick you up at seven.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    ¡°All right, hon. I gotta go.¡±


    ¡°Thanks again. Bye.¡±

 18

    Maria is too jetgged to argue with me, which suits me just fine. She looks up at me periodically over herptop, which shes with pictures from her trip.


    ¡°The guys in France, oh my God, Adriana. You wouldn¡¯t believe. They¡¯re all so thin and they have a real sense of style. It¡¯s amazing.¡±


    Vince walks through my mind and I smile slightly. ¡°They make them okay here.¡±


    She gives me a wry smile over herptop. ¡°What, like your gangster boyfriend?¡±


    ¡°Leave him be. He has more ss than any guy I¡¯ve ever met.¡±


    ¡°Look, I totally get it. He¡¯s powerful, rich, handsome-¡±


    ¡°Good taste in furniture and clothes,¡± I smirk at her. ¡°Great in bed.¡±


    She makes a face. ¡°Do tell!¡±


    Oh, Hell no.


    My face burns at what Vince might say if I told her about any of it. ¡°He¡¯s also smart, funny, charming, generous and the list goes on and on.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re always charming at first, and then once they¡¯re married they beat their wives and get fat andzy and ugly.¡±


    I snort. ¡°You¡¯re basing that off of what? Godfather I? Vince isn¡¯t like that.¡±


    She shakes her head, giving up. ¡°You know who he is! I just don¡¯t get it.¡±


    No she wouldn¡¯t. Maria with her wealth and her huge, supportive family could never understand what it was like tock so conspicuously what everyone else had all my life.


    ¡°Being with Vince is exciting. I get to do things normal people don¡¯t, and I make a hell of a lot of money doing them.¡±


    My face burns when I hear the knock at my door. ¡°It¡¯s him. Maria, be nice.¡±


    Sitting back against the wall, she crosses her arms and flips her hair over her shoulder. ¡°Yeah, fine.¡±


    I walk down the room with a bit of difficulty in the ck Halo dress and answer the door. Vincent wears another one of his suits with a navy-blue tie and he gives me a quick peck on my cheek before nodding behind me.


    ¡°How are you doing?¡±


    I turn around and see Maria leaning against the wall in her pink pajamas, looking surly. ¡°Okay.¡±


    He raises an eyebrow and his eyes find me again. ¡°Ready?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m just going to get my clutch.¡±


    I spin around and re at Maria, warning her to be polite while I grab my purse.


    ¡°So, what do you do?¡±


    My teeth grate together as I hear her ask that question. He replies with some bullshit response that makes herugh.


    ¡°All right, let¡¯s go.¡±


    Sweeping past him, I turn around to give her another re as we leave the dorm. He takes my hand when we walk across the street to the car, his face uncharacteristically tense. When we get inside the car, he sits there for a moment.


    ¡°Adriana, tonight is really important. This is an executive game, probably the highest stakes you¡¯ve ever done, but that¡¯s not only why it¡¯s important. My boss will be there along with most of my associates.¡±


    His gaze cuts at me. His boss? Does he mean Gio Vittorio?


    ¡°Okay,¡± I say bracingly.


    ¡°I know you¡¯ll be great, but I¡¯m just letting you know. It might be¡­intense.¡±


    The car pulls out of the parking spot as Vince wrenches the wheel. The streetlights shine into the car, over his smooth face. His hand snakes over the middle and takes my hand in his. His smile is reassuring. Confident. He won¡¯t let anything happen to me.


    I hope.


    ¡°Cesare.¡±


    An Italian man with a very prominent Roman nose nods to Vince and opens the door, revealing arge room filled with people. Just like the first time, there¡¯s arge banquet of food, but there are only men inside. Wise guys eye the cocktail waitresses as they sip from their sses. Male voices are chatting, booming withughter. They¡¯re intimidating men whose eyes aren¡¯t afraid to look at me. I even see them pointing at me and grinning.


    Clinging to Vince¡¯s arm and remaining glued to his side is the only way I¡¯ll make it through this party.


    ¡°Cesare, how you doing? Hello, Adriana.¡±


    Paulie gives me a polite nod as he greets his capo.


    ¡°Good. Where¡¯s the boss?¡±


    My hand tightens around his arm. No, not yet!


    ¡°He¡¯s in the other room, I think.¡±


    ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll talk to him in a little bit.¡±


    My Italian paramour gives me an amused nce as he tugs at my arm, but I¡¯m glued to the floor. ¡°What¡¯s the matter?¡± he asks when Paulie walks off.


    ¡°Nervous,¡± I squeak out.


    His voice shakes with a chuckle. ¡°I told you.¡± Then he bends closer to my face, taking my face in his hands so that he¡¯s the only thing I see. He kisses me right in the middle of the room and I know that my face must be on fire, because everyone can see us. His lips caress mine, stroking the inner fire that zes whenever he¡¯s close to me, until finally he pulls away with a simrly flustered look.


    ¡°Is that better?¡±


    My heart¡¯s still racing, but not so much from fear anymore. ¡°Yeah, a bit.¡±


    He wheels me around the room and shows me off like a trophy wife, introducing me to hard-faced men whose smiles look almost artificial on their faces. I meet Nicky again, who I learn will be sitting in my game. I try to bury my nerves with the sses of champagne floating around. Vince takes a seat and he pulls me onto hisp. My bare shoulder rxes against the course fabric of his suit. Iugh as his arms wrap around my waist, but a pleasant shiver travels up my back when I feel his lips on my neck. I twist in his arms to face him and he leans in to kiss me like there¡¯s no one else in the room.


    ¡°Vince,¡± I admonish, face burning.


    ¡°Can¡¯t help it. You¡¯re too gorgeous.¡±


    Right away, he steals another kiss from me. It¡¯s a little embarrassing, but sweet. He looks so handsome when he smiles.


    Finally, he taps my arm. ¡°We¡¯re going to say hello to the boss.¡±


    I¡¯m about to meet Gio Vittorio, notorious gangster and leader of the Vittorio crime family.


    God help me.


    I don¡¯t want to meet him. It¡¯s a little bit too much for me. Only Vince has my affection, and perhaps that¡¯s the only reason why I¡¯m doing this. Because he wants me to.


    He steers me into the room with felt tables, a dimly lit den. A man in his seventies sits in a chair around an ordinary looking table, the two men beside him look like bodyguards. I¡¯m walking as slowly as possible, but the man¡¯s head lifts. He has a thick, gray head of hair and two watery blue eyes. His mottled skin and veined hands show proof of his age, but he caries himself with an unyielding confidence that reminds me very much of the man walking beside me. I know I¡¯ll be polite with this man, no matter what he¡¯s done. For my own damn sake.


    ¡°Vincenzo, my boy!¡±


    The affectionate way he greets Vincent catches me off guard. Vince steps away from me to say hello, kissing his boss on both cheeks.


    ¡°This is Adriana.¡±


    ¡°Nice to meet you, sir.¡± I extend my hand as Jack looks at me with a fatherly smile. He grasps his hand in mine and shakes it. I inwardly wince when I think about how sweaty my hand must be.


    ¡°It¡¯s my pleasure. I¡¯ve wanted to meet you for a long time. Vince told me all about you.¡± He releases my hand and he has the grace not to wipe his hands on his cks.


    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°I understand that you¡¯re quite the poker yer.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I am.¡±


    A smile twitches on his ancient face. ¡°Where did you learn to y?¡±


    ¡°You know, in school.¡±


    ¡°They teach you how to y card games at that fancy university?¡±


    Vince grasps his shoulder as he shakes withughter. ¡°Ah, c¡¯mon Jack.¡±


    I smile weakly. ¡°I learned in high school.¡±


    Jack leans in closer. ¡°Vince told me that you caught some cheaters at his card games.¡±


    The smile falls from my face. ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°I wanted to thank you. We really appreciate that you¡¯re lookin¡¯ out for us.¡±


    I¡¯m not sure I feel too good about it, to be honest. I nod and give him a thin-lipped smile to avoid being rude.


    ¡°I enjoyed meeting you, Adriana.¡±


    ¡°Me too.¡±


    Vince returns to my side, whispering in my ear as Gio averts his attention back towards the table. An uneasy feeling swirls in my stomach, like I¡¯ve just spent five minutes being interviewed, when it was only supposed to be a meeting.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you set up your table?¡± Vince whispers in my ear.


    He gives me a quick kiss as I approach my table and start setting it up, only to find that it has already been done for me. I sit down behind it and try to let the gentle murmur of conversation in the other room calm me. Vince looks deep in conversation with Jack, who gives me asional unhappy looks.


    What the hell did I do?


    I pick up the fresh deck of cards and shuffle them to ease the tension knotting in my shoulders. The dealers around me have seated themselves. The scantily d cocktail waitresses float from table to table, but shortly they¡¯re ushered out of the suite.


    Men in suits surround my table. I recognize some of the high roller yers from previous games. Nicky takes a seat in front of me and I smile at him. So does David, a wealthy businessman I¡¯ve seen before. Another one of Gio¡¯s capos sits down, along with another Mafioso I don¡¯t recognize. He introduces himself as Silvio.


    My first thought is that he looks angry. There¡¯s rage written all over his features, from the deep frown darkening his face to the contemptuous way he ms his chips onto the felt. The heat in his eyes strikes me in a way that makes me feel cold and terrified all over. There¡¯s no other word for it. The man looks evil.


    Vince stands like a sentinel near my table, his back against the wall. His lip twitches as he gives me a wink, and some of my anxiety evaporates.


    The poker game begins without ir. Nicky and Silvio are the most high-strung of all the yers, and I bite my lip hard when they scream out curses.


    ¡°Fucking cock-sucking piece of shit!¡±


    They have some of the worst poker faces I¡¯ve ever seen.


    ¡°Nicky, who was that broad greasing your pole the other night at the strip club?¡±


    Wincing, I look over at Nicky, who seems puzzled. ¡°What, Gigi?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Doesn¡¯t she look like this one?¡±


    Who?


    ¡°Her.¡± He nods towards me, leering at me with dead eyes that creep me right the fuck out.


    I remind you of a girl who sucked your friend¡¯s cock? Nice.


    A sick feeling makes my stomach turn. I¡¯ve never been talked to like that in my life, even at my retail jobs when I used to deal with some of the worst people I¡¯ve ever met.Exclusive ? material by N?(/v)elDrama.Org.


    Nicky¡¯s round face, always smiling, looks at me and shakes his head. ¡°I don¡¯t see it.¡± His impish face turns back to me. ¡°Sorry, sweetie. I forgot to tell you that he¡¯s an animal.¡±


    ¡°Hey, if she wants to work around us, she¡¯s going to have to get used to it.¡±


    Above him, I¡¯m startled to see Vince¡¯s face contorted with rage as Paulie leans in and whispers something in his ear, his hand on his shoulder.


    I want to take a shower to wash away the slime I feel on my skin, just from Silvio¡¯s unapologetic leers. The game wears on and David has a growing heap of chips. Silvio loses twenty grand and his attitude bes shockingly simr to a viper¡¯s.


    ¡°C¡¯mon baby,¡± he repeats under his breath. I deal out a card to him and he throws it back at me, a two. ¡°What the fuck is this? Give me another fucking card!¡±


    My eyes find Vincent¡¯s, who looks at Silvio with thinly veiled contempt.


    He snaps his hands rudely under my nose. ¡°Don¡¯t fucking look at him. Exchange my card!¡±


    ¡°Hey, calm the fuck down!¡± Vince roars.


    In the middle of the room, Jack seems to notice themotion and he ambles nearby.


    ¡°Is there a problem?¡±


    At the sight of the New York boss, Silvio relents slightly. The vicious look on his face doesn¡¯t disappear, but his voice lowers. ¡°Nothing.¡±


    I let fly another card towards him, secretly hoping it¡¯s a low value card. His face crumples slightly and my lip twitches. His eyes are like knives, stabbing me. I flinch as they sh towards me.


    ¡°What¡¯s so fucking funny? How the fuck can you grin?¡±


    The breath catches in my lungs. I suddenly be aware of how easily he could reach over and strangle my neck. ¡°I-I¡¯m not.¡±


    ¡°Take it easy.¡± Vince looks like he¡¯d love nothing more than to kick Silvio¡¯s ass.


    ¡°You¡¯re not down twenty grand, you take it fucking easy.¡±


    The energy surrounding the table is the most tense I¡¯ve ever experienced, all stemming from Silvio¡¯s sniping remarks. He loses another ten grand while David¡¯s grows, and his hostility turns towards him.


    ¡°That¡¯s right,ugh it up you piece of shit.¡±


    One of Vince¡¯s associates approaches Silvio with a drink. He hangs too long around his elbow and suddenly Silvio whirls on him like a snake. ¡°Who the fuck is this? What are you doing?¡±


    ¡°Just bringing you a drink, sir.¡±


    ¡°Cram it up your sister¡¯s twat.¡±


    The young man disappears, shaking as the table trembles with nervousughter. My hands are so slick that the cards are beginning to stick to my fingers. I can¡¯t wait for this night to be over.


    The betting increases in the pot, David raising the bet and causing the others to drop out.


    ¡°What the fuck could you have?¡±


    I deal out the final cards and Silvio takes one look at his. A poisonous look crosses his face.


    ¡°You fucking cunt.¡±


    He looks right at me as the room explodes with several choruses of outraged excitement. The insult leaves me breathless. Tears burn in my eyes and I look away. What the hell is his problem?


    Everyone is eitherughing or yelling in outrage. Vincent lunges towards Silvio, but is quickly tackled by Paulie. Silvio turns around, smirking as Vincent shoves Paulie¡¯s chest.


    ¡°Get out of my way,¡± he snarls.


    ¡°Calm down!¡± Jack raises his arms, looking distressed.


    ¡°He¡¯s disrespecting my dealer at one of my games, Jack.¡±


    Vince¡¯s voice, apoplectic with rage, seems to have a hardening effect over Jack Vittorio.


    ¡°He¡¯s right, Silvio. If you can¡¯t fucking rx, I¡¯m going to ask you to leave.¡±


    Looking unabashed, Silvio wheels around and gives me a shrug. ¡°Sorry, hon.¡±


    I don¡¯t buy his apology, along with the fake smile on his face.


    The rest of the game passes without incident and I see Jack whispering in Vincent¡¯s ear, pulling him back when Silvio makes a disparaging remark. Silvio may have tempered his rage, but Vincent¡¯s is still glowing hot.


    I¡¯m about to utter a useless warning to the guard when the game ends and Silvio gathers the remainder of his chips. Vince rips his arm out of Jack¡¯s grasp and shoves Silvio¡¯s jacketed chest. The beefier man extends an arm, pushing Vince away from him.


    ¡°Don¡¯t touch me.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s go talk outside,¡± Vince suggests darkly. ¡°Come on.¡±


    ¡°You keep your fucking hands off me, or I¡¯ll kill you.¡±


    Oh my God.


    Vincent¡¯s dark smile stretches over his face. He looks beautiful and terrifying at the same time. ¡°Yeah?¡± Then he grabs Silvio¡¯s jacket with his left hand and his right smashes against Silvio¡¯s face. Silvio¡¯s head rips backwards and I feel a slight swell of satisfaction.


    Yeah, take that you asshole.


    Paulie and Nicky pounce on Vincent, and others tackle Silvio to keep him from retaliating. Both men scream at each other, their faces red. I¡¯m cowering near the felt table, standing up as a guard unnecessarily stands in front of me.


    ¡°Are you outta your fucking mind?¡± Silvio screams, his oily hair whipping around his face. ¡°I¡¯m a made guy!¡±


    ¡°GO FUCK YOURSELF!¡±


    I¡¯m afraid to speak, to embarrass him by talking him down, so I don¡¯t say anything. My hands twist in myp as I watch them. My heart beats like it¡¯s running a race. Oh, Christ.


    ¡°Vincenzo, I said that¡¯s enough,¡± Jack¡¯s old voice snaps like a whip.


    ¡°Fes, calm down!¡± Nicky inserts himself between the two men as Jack wraps an arm around Vincent¡¯s neck, almost forcefully steering him away. His soothing voice attempts to calm him down, but I hear Vince¡¯s sharp retorts.


    ¡°Listen, you better get the fuck out of here.¡± Nicky res at Silvio, who eye fucks Vince before he leaves.


    ¡°Why the fuck can¡¯t I deal with that prick? He insulted my girl, and he disrespected me at this game,¡± Vincent¡¯s voice explodes the moment Silvio leaves the suite.


    ¡°We just made a deal with Jersey, I can¡¯t let you beat the shit out of one of their capos, Vince.¡±

 19

    Nicky hovers around me, smiling, trying to distract me. ¡°Come with me, honey. I¡¯ll get you a drink.¡±


    My legs tremble as I rise out of the seat and follow him into the next room while I hear their heated arguments. I copse into a chair next to the table with cold cuts and cheese, while Nicky makes me a drink. He presses it into my hands and sits down next to me.


    ¡°Here you go, hon.¡±


    I take arge gulp without thinking and nearly spit it out. Forcing myself to swallow it down is like gulping down gasoline. Heughs as I set the drink down and cough.


    ¡°Good shit, eh?¡±


    ¡°Nicky, who was that guy? Why was he so nasty to me?¡±


    He waves it off like it was nothing. ¡°Silvio just joined us in New York. He¡¯s always been a prick, but he crossed the line tonight.¡±


    An involuntary shiver goes through my body when I think about how frightening his gaze was. ¡°I don¡¯t want to see him again.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think anyone will after tonight.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    Nicky only smiles at me like it¡¯s all a big joke.


    ¡°Adriana, let¡¯s go.¡±


    I look up towards the source of the gritty voice and see Vincent standing near the exit.


    ¡°Bye,¡± I tell Nicky. ¡°Thanks for the drink.¡±


    He waves goodbye as I join Vince across the room, who looks slightly calmer. I feel safe for the first time this evening when I¡¯m at his side.


    ¡°You okay?¡± he asks in a soft voice.


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°Good, cause that motherfucker never will be again.¡±


    The heat in his voice startles me as he shes a grin towards Nicky and pulls me outside.


    ¡°What does that mean?¡± I ask, startled.


    ¡°It means exactly what it fucking means.¡±


    The heat from his voice scorches me. I detach from his side and wrap my arms around myself.


    ¡°I thought your boss said that you couldn¡¯t touch him,¡± I say in a slow voice as we enter the elevator.


    Vince leans against the wall, glowering. ¡°I cannot let that go, Adriana.¡±


    I¡¯m speechless as we walk towards the car, trying to think of something, anything to stop him. ¡°Where are we going?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m dropping you at my ce. Then I¡¯m going out.¡± He looks like he¡¯s out for blood. He rips open the car door to let me inside.


    Going out to get him. My whole body trembles.


    I¡¯m hoping that he¡¯ll calm down during the ride there. When he slides inside, I turn towards him. ¡°Vince, I don¡¯t want you to do this. It¡¯s crazy.¡±


    ¡°You can beg me all you want, sweetheart. It won¡¯t stop me.¡± He revs the engine ruthlessly, peeling out of the parking lot.


    Keeping quiet, I watch the streets rush past me in vibrant, neon colors as he drives to Manhattan. He¡¯lle to his senses. I can distract him.


    ¡°Vince, I¡¯m really ttered that you care so much about my honor, but I really don¡¯t care about what he thinks about me.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s nice, but I care. He didn¡¯t just insult you, he insulted me.¡±Content property of N?velDra/ma.Org.


    ¡°So?¡± I burst out, frustrated. ¡°Do you beat up everyone who insults you?¡±


    He gives me an incredulous look.


    Oh. Well, then.


    He doesn¡¯t respond as he parks his car in a rush, immediately getting out to usher me into his apartment. I get out of the car, my heart racing as he takes my elbow. I plead with him all the way up to his apartment, but he¡¯s stony-faced. None of my words affect him.


    ¡°Vince, this is stupid!¡± I shout as we enter his apartment. ¡°I don¡¯t want you to get hurt over me.¡±


    He ms the door and I tremble from the noise. Glowering, he steps forward, grabbing my arms. ¡°Adriana, you don¡¯t understand my world. If I don¡¯t do anything, I will look weak. People will talk. It might as well be an advertisement to anyone on the street that they can fuck with me and get away with it. No fucking way am I going to let that happen.¡±


    I lean forward, tilting my head up to kiss him. His lips fall against mine and a glow starts to burn in my chest. I pull his body closer to me, threading my fingers through his thick wave of hair. My tongue sweeps across his lips and teases his mouth. He responds hungrily, his fingers gouging into my flesh.


    ¡°Stay with me, Vince.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t,¡± he says against my lips. He reaches up and takes my wrists, gently pulling them away from his face.


    ¡°How will I know if you¡¯re okay?¡± My voice trembles and that seems to anger him.


    ¡°Fuck, Adriana. It¡¯s not like I haven¡¯t done this hundreds of times before. I¡¯ll be back soon.¡±


    He rips away from me, striding through the door without a backward nce. The door shuts and locks behind him, and I hear his hurried footsteps disappearing.


    What do I do now?


    I pace in the darkened apartment. Should I follow him? Should I call someone? Or should I just trust him?


    I don¡¯t know.


    My weary footsteps take me across the foyer into the living room that looks over the street. Normally, I would be unable to sit still being left alone in his apartment. The urge to snoop through his things is overshadowed by my worry for him. I stand against the wide ss, looking down at the street, but I¡¯m too far up to recognize the cars anyways. Still, I slump down and press my cheek to the cold ss, hoping that it will help me stay awake. The hard floor is ufortable under my legs.


    Stay awake.


    Stay awake, a voice echoes in my head. Awake.


    A warm hand cups my cheek, and fingers brush my hair away from my face. His breath billows over my face and he kisses me. My tongue darts out as something wet sticks to my mouth. The metallic tang makes me recoil. Blood.


    My eyes re open to a dim, orange sunrise illuminating the grey skyline beyond the ss. A shadowy form kneels in front of me, the sparse light illuminating his battered face.


    ¡°Vince!¡±


    I stand up with him, noticing how he carries himself differently. There are lines under his eyes and his lip is bleeding, but his chest is puffed out. He looks proud of himself.


    ¡°Can¡¯t believe you waited for me all night like this on the floor.¡±


    ¡°Of course, I waited!¡± I rub the sleepiness from my eyes. ¡°Vince, what happened?¡± I take his hand but he winces.


    ¡°I¡¯m a little sore.¡±


    ¡°Oh, Jesus.¡±


    He lets me drag him into the bathroom, where I flip on the lights and we wince horribly from the sudden re. Then I gasp when I see all his injuries thrown in sharp relief.


    There are little cuts all over his face, swelling on the side of his head. His white shirt is bloody and torn.


    ¡°Did he throw you in a blender or something?¡±


    Heughs at the joke. ¡°I believe it¡¯s times like this when they usually say, ¡®you should see the other guy.¡¯ Well, you should see the other guy. Believe me, he¡¯s not going to be doing anything much for a while.¡±


    My eyes squeeze shut when I see the gloating smile on his face. ¡°You killed him, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Adriana, rx.¡±


    Opening my eyes, I still see the monster covered in blood, grinning at me. He reaches out for me and I recoil.


    That sobers his expression.


    ¡°I did not kill him, Ade.¡±


    ¡°You must have beaten him really badly.¡±


    ¡°So what?¡±


    ¡°So, you don¡¯t just beat someone because you have a problem with them.¡±


    ¡°Since when?¡±


    Fear strikes a chord in my heart. I swallow hard. Of course, I should have expected this. I shouldn¡¯t act so surprised. He told me, didn¡¯t he? He warned me. I¡¯m not a good man.


    ¡°You¡¯re involving me in things I want nothing to do with!¡±


    He turns from the mirror to face me. For the first time, I see a hint of remorse on his face. ¡°I¡¯m sorry for bringing you into this, but I won¡¯t apologize for what I did.¡±


    A frustrated sigh leaves my lips. ¡°I¡¯m not into this alpha male posturing bullshit. I just want someone who makes me feel safe.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve told you my reasons. I¡¯ll deal with the consequences.¡±


    Consequences?


    ¡°Look, this is my life. Either deal with it, or get out. I won¡¯t change.¡±


    A flush of adrenaline tingles through my body. I know I should. I know that I can¡¯t change him. He touches my throat and the shock travels down my spine. I can¡¯t give this up.


    ¡°I¡¯m giving you this onest chance to walk away. Maybe you should take it, but I hope you don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to.¡±


    His thumb presses into my neck, into the jumping vein. My head swims suddenly.


    ¡°Adriana, I mean it,¡± he says in a warning voice. ¡°I won¡¯t be able to let you go.¡±


    But that¡¯s all I wanted. I wanted to be consumed, to be owned and taken care of. No one ever took care of me, but I know that Vincent will always look after me as long as we¡¯re together. It¡¯s all or nothing.


    And I¡¯m all in.


    Our hands cling to each other¡¯s faces as we move in at the same time, kissing and tearing at each other¡¯s clothes. Vince¡¯s powerful hands rip my dress over my head and suddenly he ms me against the wall, his hand around my throat. My hands try to pry him off, but he seems to enjoy that even more.


    Fine. He wants a fight?


    I¡¯ll give him a fight.


    My hand whirls out of nowhere, pping his face hard. In shock, his face stays reeled back until he slowly turns towards me with murder in his eyes.


    It sends a jolt through my veins. He wouldn¡¯t really hurt me, would he?


    Twisting me around, he pins both my arms behind my back and forces me forward, out of the bathroom and into his den of iniquity. I¡¯m shoved forward, sprawling on the bed. I twist around, fear making my heart race.


    Is this real?


    Vince climbs over me. There¡¯s no kindness in his face, no glimmer in his eyes, no yful smirk. He¡¯s morphed into a different man in the darkness, the man who punishes anyone who displeases him, who hurts, even kills those who insult him.


    And now I¡¯m one of them.


    He wrenches his belt and cks down while holding down my arms. I struggle within his grasp, of course, but he¡¯s so strong that only one arm is more than enough to keep me pinned. I¡¯m helpless. Vince forces me on my side as he spoons me, his hardness jutting into my back. His body moves over my back. His arms wrap around me like a straightjacket and his hand covers my mouth, muffling my cry when he pries open my legs and thrusts. It feels so good that wetness slicks my walls, making his passage easier.


    Fucking hell.


    He ms into me as he grunts in my ear, his breath hot all over my neck. Reaching down, he touches my clit, the moisture all over his hand. He uncovers my mouth and I moan, and then he inserts his wet fingers inside my mouth.


    It¡¯s dirty. It¡¯s wrong. I suck his fingers clean and he withdraws them only to mp tightly over my face, nearly suffocating me. Then one finger slips inside, and Itch onto it, biting hard when he enters me again.


    His deep groans fill me with excitement. His mouth is on my neck, sucking, biting, whispering filthy things in my ear. My lungs burn as his hand covers my nostrils. It fucking scares me how far I¡¯m willing to let him go. I¡¯m so close to erupting, so close to losing it.


    He buries inside me so hard that thest breath is knocked from my lungs. I bite down hard in my attempt to get air as an orgasm rocks through my body, clenching around him as he fills me with his essence for the first time. The hand slides from my face, and I gasp for air. His chest heaves against my back and I roll over so that I¡¯mying over his body. His hand sys on my back as I tilt my head up. His lips seal against mine and warmth blossoms in my chest, leaving me trembling when he pulls back, his head sinking into his pillow.


    I climb over him, my face hovering over his. I can¡¯t see him, but I can feel his breath still shuddering through his lips. I don¡¯t know what he¡¯s done to me, but I keep kissing him over and over, and he kisses me back like he can¡¯t get enough of me. It¡¯s hot and it fills me with desire, no matter how long we go at it.


    My headys in the crook of his arm, and I feel his voice rumbling through his chest, into my skin.


    ¡°Adriana, I want you toe with me to my mom¡¯s house for Sunday dinner.¡±


    My eyes widen in the dark. ¡°You want me to meet your mom?¡±


    ¡°Of course, I do.¡± He presses his lips over my hair and kisses my temple. ¡°Don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I say immediately, following the flood of anxiety. I can¡¯t help but feel this is going a bit fast, whatever this is between us. I¡¯m touched that he finds me so important that he would introduce me to his mother.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have dinner at your mom¡¯s on Sunday?¡±


    The bedroom rings with my hollowughter. ¡°I haven¡¯t since I moved out of her ce six years ago. She¡¯s not really my mother anymore. She¡¯s a cancer.¡± Eyes burning, I immediately regret it. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have said that.¡±


    He strokes my arm. ¡°You can say anything you want to me.¡±


    ¡°What kind of person says that about their own mother?¡±


    ¡°A person whose mother took out a fifty-thousand dor loan in her name. Not everyone¡¯s family is flesh and blood. Jack¡¯s been like a father to me ever since my dad passed.¡±


    I try to think of who was my father figure. Who stepped in when Dad was murdered? No one. With my grandparents dead and no living aunts or uncles on either side, the responsibility fell to my mother to fulfill both roles.


    Didn¡¯t work out so well.


    ¡°Do you think she¡¯ll like me?¡±


    ¡°I like you and that¡¯ll be enough for her. Besides, what¡¯s not to like?¡±


    My alcohol problem? My kleptomaniac tendencies?


    He kisses my head again, sending another flight of the butterflies in my stomach.

 20

    Gleaming aisles of white and cameras affixed in shiny, ck bowls on the ceiling don¡¯t stop me from raking my eyes over the millions of tiny, bright bottles of foundation and tubes of lipstick. I¡¯m behind Maria as she picks up a vial of this or that, my mind thinking how I can steal some makeup without being caught by her, or the employees, or the camera in the ceiling.


    I¡¯m stressed, okay? When I¡¯m stressed out, I act out. I drink. I steal.


    Dimly, I hear a voice that sounds like my mother¡¯s: Shame on you.


    But my heart has turned to stone. What does she know about shame?


    It¡¯s unfortunate that Maria decided to enter the Sephora store. There¡¯s so much that I want, but can¡¯t afford. I just paid off thest of Mom¡¯s credit card debt, and there¡¯s still a lot more to go for the rest of my tuition and the loan. And I can¡¯t help but want things. I¡¯m a greedy monster.


    An attractive, coral lipstick appeals to me and I slip it into my purse. On the pretense of digging through my purse to find my phone, I remove the stic wrapper and security strip. My heart pounds when an employee smiles at me.


    ¡°Can I help you find anything?¡±


    ¡°No, thank you!¡±


    Fuck. One of these days I¡¯ll get caught.


    More and more products get stuffed down my purse and my heart beats a violent tattoo against my chest as we line up for the register.


    ¡°Have you dered a major yet?¡±


    Maria¡¯s happy voice breaks through my anxiety. ¡°Um-not yet. To be honest, I don¡¯t know if I¡¯ll be able to afford tuition.¡±


    It¡¯s embarrassing to talk about this while everyone in line can hear us. She gives me a widened look.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    Looking into her round eyes, I know that I can¡¯t bear telling her the truth about my mom. She has rich parents. She wouldn¡¯t understand.


    ¡°Financial aid doesn¡¯t cover everything. I need somewhere around twenty grand for the rest of the year.¡±


    She immediately spouts out with suggestions and somewhat pleading arguments. ¡°They just can¡¯t do that to you, Adriana. There must be another way.¡±


    I let her get it out of her system as my shoulders tense. We¡¯re walking out of the store and my heart¡¯s beating like it wants to jump out of my chest. It¡¯s almost painful.


    A sigh blows out of my mouth as we leave the store, no rm bells ringing, no angry voices yelling after me. I¡¯m lucky.


    ¡°We can talk about it at dinner tonight with my parents. Maybe they can think of something.¡±


    My face burns. ¡°Actually, I¡¯m going with Vince at his mother¡¯s house.¡±


    Maria stops in the midst of walking, smiling as she looks down at me under her sunsses. ¡°Seriously?¡±


    ¡°Yeap.¡±


    She covers her mouth with a tanned hand,ughing. ¡°Oh my God. You have to tell me all about it. There has to be something seriously dysfunctional about their rtionship.¡±


    Thement burns my face, but I¡¯m so grateful that she¡¯s backed off on antagonizing me about Vince that I don¡¯t say anything. ¡°I doubt it. From the way that he talks about her, they seem to get along pretty well.¡±


    ¡°Oh,e on Ade.¡±


    Now I¡¯m starting to feel irritated. ¡°I mean it! You know, he¡¯s not the horrible man you think he is. He¡¯s really thoughtful. He delivers food all the time because he knows that I¡¯m broke. That¡¯s the kind of guy he is.¡±


    Just thinking about him puts a grin on my face. Every day away from him hurts a little bit more. I fell for him, fast and hard. Who else could treat me the way he does? Who else could give me the most amazing sex I¡¯ve ever had?


    ¡°That is thoughtful,¡± she admits grudgingly.


    When we return to the dorms, I try to hide the contents of my purse as I stuff them under my bed. Maria¡¯s smiles at me, making me feel incredibly guilty. I deserve to be locked up.


    I endure several hours of listening to Maria talk to herself about what sses she ought to take. She decides to major in psychology and I hear her read the course descriptions out loud. Bitterness rises in my throat. It¡¯s not her fault that her parents are wealthy, but damn am I jealous.


    While shopping, I bought an innocent-looking dress that would be appropriate for his mother. A heart-stopping sensation fills me when I think about meeting his mother. I¡¯ll probably have to return it, so I don¡¯t take off the tags.


    Knock-knock.


    Maria¡¯s head perks up from herputer screen and I bolt upright.


    ¡°It¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I say in a faint voice.


    Twisting the handle of my clutch, I walk out of the bedroom into the living room. I open the door, and a tall-dark haired man dressed in dark jeans and a button-up shirt winks at me. Vince doesn¡¯t pull me into his arms like he usually does; instead he gives me a tense smile and a quick peck on my cheek.


    What¡¯s wrong with him?


    ¡°Hey.¡±


    ¡°Hey, let¡¯s go.¡±


    Clearly, he¡¯s in a hurry to leave. Vince walks in front of me and walks briskly down the steps, almost jogging down. I can barely keep up with him. Grabbing my hand, he moves swiftly down the sidewalk, his head moving from side to side, scanning.


    ¡°Is there something wrong?¡±


    He suddenly bes aware of me and his pace slows down. ¡°Nothing I can¡¯t handle.¡±


    ¡°What does that mean?¡±


    My lungs freeze when I¡¯m ushered into the car. Vince gets in, looking around before he sinks into his seat, his fingers white as they grip the steering wheel.N?velD(ram)a.?rg owns this content.


    ¡°You¡¯re in some kind of trouble, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Everything¡¯s fine.¡± He turns his head, giving me a quick smile before he pulls out of the garage.

 21

    Maybe I don¡¯t want to know.N?velD(ram)a.?rg owns this content.


    The ride to his mother¡¯s house is silent as Vince weaves in and out of traffic, and finally we¡¯re swinging around Harlem to leave Manhattan. Orange light shines through the window as we drive over the Robert F Kennedy Bridge andnds over my thighs in an orange strip.


    I¡¯m a little bit nervous as we drive closer and closer to Brooklyn.


    She might not like me. My own mother doesn¡¯t.


    ¡°What did you do today?¡±


    Vince looks unhappy, almost like he wants to distract himself. I hope he¡¯s not regretting that he brought me.


    ¡°I bought this dress. I also-I shoplifted a bunch of makeup.¡±


    The guilt¡¯s been eating at me all day and I want to confess to someone. I expect him to be angry, but he throws back his head andughs like it¡¯s a hrious joke.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°I was stressed out,¡± I say as my cheeks burn.


    ¡°Over this?¡±


    ¡°Over everything.¡±


    Heys his hand on myp and squeezes my thigh. ¡°It¡¯ll be all right eventually, Adriana. You¡¯ll see.¡±


    Why do I get the feeling he¡¯s talking about himself?


    Eventually, we stop in an upscale part of Brooklyn in front of a row of low-rise, brownstone apartment homes. Dappled sunlight shines through the trees lining the block. It¡¯s a beautiful, quiet street.


    ¡°I bought this ce for Ma a few years ago.¡± He leans on his car, regarding the house for a moment with a small smile.


    I¡¯m envious. I wish I could do that for my mother. Hell, for myself. ¡°This is really nice, Vince.¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t you say your Mom lives in Brooklyn?¡±


    ¡°Bushwick, yeah.¡±


    Vince winces sympathetically as he walks around the car, sliding an arm around my neck. His fingers brush against the tag under the fabric and he pulls it out.


    ¡°No, don¡¯t take it off!¡±


    ¡°What? Why not?¡±


    I¡¯m so fucking embarrassed as he looks at me withughter in his eyes, uprehending.


    ¡°I need to return it,¡± I hiss.


    ¡°It fits you perfectly.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t afford it, all right?¡±


    My skin heats up as people walk by us. My eyes dart frantically up and down the street, anywhere away from him.


    ¡°I¡¯ll pay for it,¡± he says in a low voice.


    I meet his eyes, mortified. ¡°Vince, no!¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes,¡± he says in a darker tone. He holds my neck firmly, his eyes narrowing. ¡°You don¡¯t let me buy you anything.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s so not true! You get me food all the time-¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s nothing.¡±


    ¡°It is not nothing. It adds up.¡±


    Before I can protest, he rips the tag from my dress and nces at the price. ¡°It¡¯s peanuts and you¡¯re worth it. You deserve nice things.¡± He takes my furious face in his hands and kisses me so gently that I can¡¯t help but melt a little.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I say breathlessly when he pulls back.


    ¡°Your wee, my little thief.¡±


    My heels wobble on the pavement as we walk up the steps to his mother¡¯s brownstone. The polished, dark wooden door frames a thick ss. Vince rings the doorbell and I¡¯m digging my nails into his palm. A grin spreads over his face as a distorted shape growsrger.


    The door swings open; revealing a slight woman with blonde dyed hair and tanned skin. She¡¯s dressed in a long, flowing skirt and a white blouse.


    ¡°Hi, Ma.¡±


    ¡°Vinny!¡±


    She wraps her thin arms around Vincent, who stoops down so that she can kiss him on both cheeks. Her face shines with ecstasy as her gaze falls on me and gasps out loud.


    ¡°Oh my God, you must be Adriana!¡±


    I¡¯m blushing when she pulls me in for a hug, kissing both cheeks as her body trembles with excitement. Vincent¡¯s mom exudes warmth, but it¡¯s a little bit intimidating to be on the receiving end of so much attention from a stranger. She holds my arms as she pulls back, appraising me. To my astonishment, her eyes are wet.


    ¡°Bless you! I never thought my Vinny would find someone.¡±


    ¡°Ma!¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s true!¡± she says defensively.


    She releases me and I look over to see Vince shaking his head, a faint pink tinge coloring his cheeks.


    Iugh a little bit to myself as he ushers me inside. I¡¯ve never seen him look vulnerable, but I¡¯m thoroughly enjoying it. It¡¯s fascinating to see controlling, possessive, proud Vince squirm. The house is decked out with brand new furniture. I expected to see moth-eaten couches from the 80¡¯s, but Vince¡¯s mother seems to bemitted to making her house look modern. Religious artifacts are strewn around the house: figurines of Jesus, Joseph, and Mary adorn the mantelpiece over the fire, there are crosses everywhere, small Italian gs, but none of it is cheesy or overdone. The whole house is meticulously clean. It¡¯s clear that Vince probably pays for a maid service, so that his mother doesn¡¯t have to do it herself.


    She strokes his head and fawns over him, asking whether he¡¯s been eating well and what did he eat for breakfast and he looks skinny, is he sure he¡¯s eating? I feel a strange pang as I watch them and look around at the beautiful house.


    An amazing, ambrosial smell saturates the air, growing stronger as we approach the kitchen. The table is alreadyden with salumi, freshly cut slices of Italian country bread, olives, and cheese.


    ¡°Eat, eat!¡± She ps her hands, motioning us to sit down as she gathers tes. I ask her if she needs help, but she declines.


    All of it reminds me so much of my grandmother that I immediately feel at home. It¡¯s all familiar to me; from the type of bread to the cold cuts she chose. Nostalgia bites the back of my head as I take a powdery piece of bread and rip off a chunk to eat.


    Mrs. Cesare smiles at me as she drops a ss of water in front of me. ¡°Adriana, tell me about yourself. Where are you from? What do your parents do?¡±


    I swallow hard as my throat tightens at the subject. ¡°I¡¯m from Brooklyn, just like Vince. My mother lives in Bushwick alone and she¡¯s unemployed, but I try to help her out. I¡¯m going to school at Columbia.¡±


    I¡¯m hoping that the mention of the school will deflect her questions about my parents, and it does.


    ¡°Columbia! Maddon, that¡¯s a great school. Your mother must be proud.¡±


    My mother could care less. ¡°Yeah,¡± I say, smiling.


    ¡°So modest,¡± she says as she walks back to the stove. She opens the lid of her dutch oven and steam spills off the edge. ¡°I made stracotto.¡±


    Vince stretches his arms behind the chair. ¡°One of my favorites.¡±


    ¡°Adriana, what are you studying in school?¡±


    I take an unnecessarilyrge gulp of water that makes my throat bulge as I swallow it down. ¡°I¡¯m not sure. I don¡¯t know whether I¡¯ll be attending school this fall, so I haven¡¯t thought of it too much.¡±


    Mrs. Cesare takes our tes and begins doling out the stew. The pot roast sits on a bed of crushed tomatoes and the smell immediately makes my mouth water.


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    Across the table, Vince gives me a sympathetic look as my hands fidget under the table.

 22

    ¡°Tuition is very expensive and my financial aid didn¡¯t cover everything this year.¡±


    ¡°How horrible,¡± she says after a moment of silence. When she gives Vincent his te, a stern look crosses her face. ¡°Vincent, you have to help your girlfriend.¡±


    Heat flushes my face when I hear the word, ¡®girlfriend.¡¯ Vince has a steady look on his face. He¡¯s not seriously listening to his mother, is he?


    ¡°Yeah, I was going to anyway.¡±


    Motherfucker.


    ¡°No, you¡¯re not,¡± I glower at him,pletely forgetting about his mother. ¡°It¡¯s over twenty-thousand dors, Mrs. Cesare. I can¡¯t let anyone pay that for me. It¡¯s too much-¡±


    ¡°Your education is worth it, Adriana.¡±


    She waves thedle at me. Her brown eyes ze with intensity, looking remarkably like her son¡¯s.


    I lower my eyes and keep silent, vowing to tell Vince off the moment we leave the house. I will not take his money. My stomach burns at the very idea. I won¡¯t owe anyone anything. Ever.


    The meal is delicious and afterwards, she puts out a te of biscotti and little sses of Vin Santo, a dessert wine. We dip the cookies in the wine, eating them as Mrs. Cesare asks Vincent about work. He doesn¡¯t say much, of course, but I have a feeling she knows exactly what her son does for a living.


    ¡°He¡¯s a good boy,¡± she says as she grasps his arm. ¡°Always has been. Takes care of his ma, his girlfriend.¡± She pauses, giving me a huge smile again. ¡°Maddon, I¡¯m so happy you two are together. I told him: Vincent, you need to start thinking about settling down with a wife and kids.¡±


    The biscotti crumbles in his fingers and he buries his face in his hands. I can see the tips of his ears burning red. ¡°Ma, please.¡±


    ¡°Oh, shush. You¡¯re thirty-three years old for God¡¯s sake.¡± She looks at me, clearly enjoying his embarrassment. ¡°He used to tell me that he had no intention of settling down. I was so angry with him, Adriana.¡±


    ¡°Jesus Christ!¡± he finally yells.


    ¡°Don¡¯t take the Lord¡¯s name in my house.¡± She swats his shoulder hard and he glowers at her.


    I have to pinch my thigh to keep myself from bursting intoughter. Vince squirms in his seat after that, eager to leave, and keeps shooting me looks like I should say something about leaving. After another half hour, he finally curls an arm around my waist and we head down the hallway to leave.


    She kisses both of my burning cheeks nearly four times before we both leave, and Vincent¡¯s face falls with exhaustion when our choruses of ¡°goodbye¡± are swallowed by the door.


    ¡°Jesus, finally,¡± he whispers as we descend the steps.


    I¡¯m actually grinning ear to ear. ¡°I had a really great time. Your mom is great.¡±


    ¡°She just likes embarrassing the bejesus out of me.¡±


    He opens the door, his face a little bit pink as I smile knowingly and step inside. ¡°She was very excited to see me.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s why I was dreading this. I knew she would be like this.¡±Original from N?velDrama.Org.


    He shakes his dark head, starting the car and pulling out.


    ¡°I think it¡¯s nice that she cares so much,¡± I say in a small voice.


    I can¡¯t tell him that I¡¯m burning with jealousy for all the love and attention shevished on him at the house, which was clean and not filled to the brim with junk. It¡¯s a rude awakening to meet other people¡¯s parents andpare them to your own.


    When he brings me back to campus, he¡¯s back into that nervous, jumpy state that he was when he picked me up.


    ¡°Vince, I can walk to the dorm myself.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m walking you to your dorm.¡±


    His gritty voice makes me stop talking. How is he always able to get me to do whatever he wants? I open the door and Maria is gone. He steps inside without asking, pinning me against the wall with that zing look. I want to ask him questions, but I know now¡¯s not the time. His mouth is on my neck, giving me a vicious hickey while his hand moves under my dress. I follow him into the bedroom blindly, addicted to the pleasure stirring in my abdomen.


    Afterward, my body feels sore but deliciously satisfied. He curls an arm around my waist so that I¡¯m practically buried in his chest.


    ¡°Vince, you¡¯re not paying for my tuition,¡± I whisper.


    His voice is loud and harsh in my ear. ¡°Oh, yes I fucking am.¡±


    ¡°No. I will not owe you money. There¡¯s no guarantee I¡¯d ever be able to pay you back.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t expect you to pay me back. It¡¯s a gift from me.¡±


    The kisses on my neck are supposed tofort me, but I feel rotten inside. ¡°I will not be like my mother. I can¡¯t do that to someone.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not like her. Besides, I have more money than I know what to do with. Let me help you. I want to.¡±


    ¡°I wanted to do this on my own.¡± My voice shakes with tears and Vince holds me tightly, making the tears flow faster.


    ¡°You can¡¯t, baby. Let me take care of you.¡±


    God, I¡¯m not used to this. No one has ever fought to take care of me. Even though it feels so good, I¡¯m fighting against it. I¡¯ve always worked everything out on my own, and I feel ufortable relying on anyone else.


    ¡°I wish I could give you something in return for everything you¡¯ve given me.¡±


    He wipes the wetness from my eyes, his lips pulling in a smile. ¡°You already have.¡±

 23

    The check from Vince burns my eyeballs.


    Twenty thousand dors.Original from N?velDrama.Org.


    I¡¯ve been staring at it all day.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Maria stoops over my chair and makes a little gasp. ¡°Wow.¡±


    ¡°I told him not to,¡± I say in a weak voice.


    Standing up, I walk away from the check, the numbers still burning holes in my mind.


    ¡°Why?¡± she asks in an incredulous voice. ¡°You need the money.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to owe him anything.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± she says. ¡°Yeah, don¡¯t they, like, beat you if you don¡¯t pay up, or something?¡±


    I roll my eyes at her. ¡°He¡¯s not like that. He doesn¡¯t even want me to pay him back. I just don¡¯t want to be like my mom, leeching off everyone with money.¡±


    She still calls me, begging me for money every chance she gets. I ignore her and pay her credit card¡¯s monthly bill. It pisses me off, but what choice do I have? I don¡¯t want her to go to jail.


    With Vince and Nicky¡¯s card games every week, I can afford it. sses have already started and I¡¯m struggling with juggling everything: Calculus, Advanced Statistics, Sociology, and American History. I¡¯ve a full te and my weekends are normally spent studying. I¡¯m so tired that I can barely think.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to drop a few sses. That way I won¡¯t have to take so much from him. Want to go to a cafe? I¡¯m tired of sitting in here.¡±


    I cram my books in my backpack, stuffing my vibrating phone inside as well.


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯lle with you.¡± Maria bends down to pick up her Coach tote bag, which carries all her books. ¡°It¡¯s really nice of him to pay your tuition. Maybe he isn¡¯t so bad.¡±


    It¡¯s overcast outside, but still warm enough to wear a t-shirt so I leave without a jacket. The straps dig into my shoulders as I descend the staircase, heading in the direction of Central Park.


    The cafe is a quaint little ce, thick with college students. I find a seat while Maria orders two coffees. I set my backpack on the ground with a small groan and rub my shoulders.


    Maria bnces two coffees on ceramic tes as she weaves in and out of tables. She drops it down on the marble table.


    ¡°Thanks.¡±


    ¡°I ordered some pastries, too.¡±


    Goddamn her.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t have to do that!¡± I already feel guilty enough, but Maria gives me a small shrug.


    ¡°It¡¯s no big deal. Rx.¡±


    My eyes widen as the staff begin delivering the pastries she ordered. A German onion bread, Hungarian rolls with poppy seeds, cabbage pirogs, little crescent shaped pastries filled with apricot jam.


    ¡°Did you buy one of everything?¡±


    Maria shrugs again. ¡°I felt like splurging. My mom always told me that my eyes were bigger than my stomach.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I chuckle. ¡°Your ass will be bigger if you eat all of that.¡±


    She flings a ke of pasty at my head.


    Eager to try everything, we forget our studies and divide all the pastries, trying bites of each one. I¡¯m having a lot more fun than I¡¯ve had in a long time. A man bumps into our table.


    ¡°Oops, sorry hun.¡±


    Something in his voice makes my head jerk up.


    A beefy looking man with slicked back hair, wearing a leather jacket stands in front of our table.


    ¡°Hey, you¡¯re Cesare¡¯s girlfriend, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    My stomach boils as he looks down at me with a predatory smile. ¡°Yes.¡±


    His eyes narrow and he stoops down, blocking Maria as he towers over me. This man, whoever he is, is in my space. My chair scrapes as I push back, and his finger flicks over my mouth.


    What the fuck?


    ¡°You have some cream on your face, sweetie. I¡¯d like to add to it.¡±


    I suck in my breath as several emotions st through me in quick session: rage, disgust, and fear.


    ¡°What do you want?¡±


    His voice lowers into a growl. ¡°You tell Vinny I came here. That he better stay in line, or some other fat fuck might shove their cock right up your ass.¡±


    My hand grips my coffee mug and I¡¯m close to throwing it in his face. Heughs and straightens himself, tugging his jacket around him.


    Maria¡¯s white face stares at me as he brushes past and leaves.


    ¡°Adriana, what the fuck was that?¡±


    A sick feeling grips my guts and I suddenly feel like sprinting to the bathroom to vomit. ¡°I-I¡¯m going to go!¡±


    ¡°No, what if he¡¯s waiting out there?¡± She grabs my arm.


    ¡°I need to get out of here.¡±


    Grabbing my backpack, I leave a bewildered Maria behind and burst outside.


    He just threatened to rape me.


    I run as fast as I can in the other direction as I try to find somewhere-anywhere, to hide. My legs scream as I sprint across the street, a car screeching to a halt in front of me. I dive into the stairwell leading into the metro. The machine eats my MetroCard and I sprint into the first train taking me downtown.


    The train is filled with Columbia students heading downtown for a drink. The doors hiss shut.


    I copse into a stic chair, my heart still digging into my chest like a jackhammer. Leaving after a few stops, I vault up the stairs, no longer feeling safe in the metro. I feel like a sitting duck in that cave. Who was he?


    I can see his face perfectly in my mind. Whoever he was, he didn¡¯t care if I could recognize him. He knew I wouldn¡¯t go the cops. Would I?


    Never have I felt so vited in my life. For a second, I imagine him pinning me against the wall, stripping my clothes. It¡¯s like I¡¯m ten years old again. I crumple in the stairwell, sobbing.


    ¡°Hey, are you all right?¡±


    I shake my head, ignoring the people who stop on their way down. I need to hide, but nowhere is safe. Safety. What a fucking joke.


    Getting out of the subway is hard, but I feel safer in a crowd. What should I do? Should I stay still or keep walking? He could still be following me. Every face walking towards me could be a rapist. Around the corner is a scaffolding sidewalk and I freeze. I don¡¯t know where to go.


    Vincent.


    He¡¯ll keep me safe. I¡¯m only a few blocks away. Walking down the street, I take out my phone and see a hundred phone calls and texts from Maria.


    I¡¯m safe. Are you OK?


    Where are you?


    CALL ME BACK.


    I text her back: I¡¯m OK. I went on the subway.


    She responds almost immediately: Text me when you leave.


    My breath catches in my throat as I read her text. I¡¯m gasping as I enter his apartment building, waiting until there¡¯s an empty elevator. I run inside one and mash the button. There are other peopleing.


    God, my chest. It hurts.


    The doors shut and I mash the 12th floor. His apartment is right down the hall, but my heart rebels in my chest. I m my fist on his door.


    Hurry up. Please hurry. Please be here.


    Finally, I can¡¯t take it anymore. ¡°Open the door!¡±


    Vince rips open the door. He¡¯s dressed in sweatpants and a tank top. ¡°You don¡¯t have to beat down my door, you know.¡± He grabs my white, shaking face and his voice turns. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    My head buries into his chest as I nearly tackle him trying to get into the apartment. I turn around in his arms and then I m the door shut, my hands shaking as I lock it.


    ¡°Jesus, what happened?¡±


    I slump against the door as Vince¡¯s whitened face stares at me in rm. ¡°A man came in the cafe. He said I had cream on my face and that he wanted to add to it.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± he says in a deadly voice. ¡°He said what?¡±


    ¡°He knew who I was, Vince. He knew I was your girlfriend and he wanted me to tell you that he came to see me. That if you didn¡¯t back down, he would shove his cock up my ass.¡±


    Somehow, I¡¯m unable to look at him. Tears drop on the floor as I curl my arms around myself. He bends down and takes me in his arms. He digs his fingers into my scalp and my lungs feel like they¡¯re going to burst. One arm holds me as the other holds a cell phone.


    I¡¯m safe.

 24

    ¡°Jack, we need to talk. They came after Adriana.¡± His chest is a barrel of rage. It¡¯s horrifying to hear him like this. ¡°I¡¯ll call you on an outside line.¡±


    He ends the call and makes another one. ¡°Paulie, get your ass over here. Now.¡±


    Then he hurls the phone across the room and it smacks on the wooden floor. I feel it like a jolt through my body.


    ¡°Vince, what¡¯s going on?¡±


    The chill freezes my spine when he lets me go and turns away from me, looking quite-guilty. Anger creeps into my voice. ¡°He threatened to rape me, Vincent.¡±


    He gives me a remorseful look. ¡°Adriana-¡±


    ¡°NO! Don¡¯t leave me here alone!¡±


    I can see his resistance-the burning need for revenge, but I¡¯m still shaking with what just happened and I need him beside me.


    ¡°It¡¯ll just be for a little while.¡±


    ¡°This ce isn¡¯t safe,¡± I moan. God, I can just imagine them kicking down the door like it was nothing. They¡¯ll swing an arm to me and suddenly I¡¯ll hear a few pops. The bullets will m into my chest and I¡¯ll bleed to death on the hardwood floors. Or maybe they¡¯ll tie me up and take turns raping me.


    I clutch his shirt and sob into his chest, and he takes my hands, kissing them both.


    ¡°Adriana, I swear to Christ nothing will happen to you here. Paulie is on his way. He¡¯ll be right outside the door.¡±


    He just doesn¡¯t get it.


    ¡°Fine!¡± I scream. ¡°Just go!¡±


    My screams ring through the apartment, hurting my ears. Stunned at my outburst, Vince releases me, looking paler than usual.


    ¡°Stay in the fucking apartment and don¡¯t go anywhere. I¡¯ll be backter.¡±


    My heart screams as he leaves the apartment, the walls shaking as he ms the door. I run towards the door and lock it, and then I look around.


    What can I use to barricade the door?


    I move every avable chair in front of the door, trying to lean them against the door handle. I even try to move the couch, but it¡¯s too fucking heavy. The racing thoughts, the unpleasant sensation gripping my heart doesn¡¯t go away. Like a seizure, my breathing stops, and my heart races, and it freaks me out even more.


    There has to be alcohol in Vincent¡¯s kitchen.


    I rip open the cabs and find bottles of vodka, whiskey, tequ, anything I want. I take out the vodka and pour myself arge ss. Downing it feeds the demon inside me. The spark that was present the whole time is coaxed into a fire, and I drink until I don¡¯t feel anything at all. I take a seat next to the window and watch over the bustle of the city. There¡¯s so much madness in the world, so much unbridled violence, and I feel safe up here. Removed from all of it.


    The whole world spins when I try to get up to reach my backpack, so I sit back down. It takes a few seconds for everything to stop moving.


    Fuck. I¡¯m wasted.


    But the thoughts keep intruding, even when I drown them out with more alcohol.


    BANG, BANG.


    The door jumps as someone¡¯s fist smashes into it.


    ¡°Open the fucking door, Adriana!¡±


    A rough voice yells at me, growing louder. It¡¯s Vincent, I know it is, but the violence scares me.


    ¡°Hold on!¡± I yell back.


    I rise to my feet and almost fall t on my ass as I take a step forward. I make a strange sound, like a sob and aughbined together, as I pick myself up. It¡¯s so dark in his apartment, and the swimming in my head makes it worse.


    The doorknob twists violently. ¡°What the fuck did you do to the door?¡±


    ¡°I blocked it. Hold on.¡±


    All of it seems funny now. Even Vincent¡¯s rage. I pull all of the shit out of the way. How, I¡¯ll never really know. Vince almost trips all over everything when he bursts inside. He stares at all the chairs. At me.


    ¡°You¡¯re fucking wasted.¡±


    I¡¯m on the verge of a nasty retort, but something in Vince¡¯s gaze frightens me and I shut up.


    ¡°You have an excellent collection of alcohol.¡±Exclusive ? material by N?(/v)elDrama.Org.


    He looks like he wants to yell, but he shakes his head. ¡°Fuck it.¡±


    Taking my hand, he leads me back to the chair near the ss window and he grabs the half full ss, downing it in one shot.


    ¡°I guess I would get drunk if I were you.¡± He stares morosely at the bottom of the ss.


    ¡°I keep hoping that all this alcohol might burn holes into my brain. Do you want to know why I¡¯m afraid all the time?¡±


    Vincent¡¯s neck bends into his hands like a heron. ¡°Because of me?¡±


    ¡°No, because of my dad.¡± The tiniest bit of nausea hits me and I remember how silky his blood felt around my knees. I grab the neck of the bottle, but Vince looks up and wrestles it out of my grip.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough,¡± he says in a dangerous voice.


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s not nearly enough.¡±


    He takes a swig of the bottle and keeps it near his feet, so I can¡¯t reach.


    Bastard. He has no fucking idea.


    ¡°I never told you how my dad died,¡± I begin, my voice trembling with rage.


    Vince¡¯s haggard face looks up at me.


    The alcohol makes it easy to forget, but once you¡¯re in the throes of misery it drags you down. ¡°They came into my house and my dad pushed me into my room to save me. They took him by the throat and I ran out because Mom was screaming and then I think I surprised them-that they didn¡¯t mean to do it, but they dragged a knife across his throat. They ran off after that and he bled to death. I had his blood all over my hands. My legs. I can still smell it.¡±


    Across the table, Vince says nothing. He looks lifeless. ¡°How old were you?¡±


    ¡°I was ten. And the worst part is that whoever killed him is still out there.¡± My breath hitches in my chest. ¡°The cops didn¡¯t do anything. They were awful.¡±


    Suddenly, he¡¯s at my side, pulling me on hisp as his hands soothe my arms, moving up and down. A swell of warmth expands in my chest and electricity shoots from his fingertips into my skin.


    ¡°Jesus, I¡¯m so sorry. I didn¡¯t know.¡±


    I lean against his chest and a shudder runs through my body. ¡°I hate feeling like this.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re going to have to stay here for a while, so that I can protect you.¡±


    For a moment, I shove the past aside. ¡°Vince, what¡¯s going on?¡±


    I don¡¯t know if he¡¯s aware of it, but his fingers lightly running up my arms make me clench down on my stomach, suppressing a shiver. His lips touch my ear.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on is that you¡¯re mine, and they want to hurt me. So they targeted you.¡±


    What?


    My heart thumps painfully against my chest. ¡°Who?¡±


    ¡°The family associated with that man who insulted you at the card game.¡±


    That Silvio guy.


    ¡°The man you weren¡¯t supposed to touch.¡±


    Vince¡¯s tone is unapologetic. ¡°Let¡¯s not talk about this.¡±


    I pull out of his arms, a stab of anger striking through my chest. Standing upright, I waver as Vince follows me.


    ¡°I was threatened, and that¡¯s your response?¡±


    ¡°Things are already in motion. Believe me, they¡¯re not getting away with this.¡±


    Another murder? A beating? My insides swirl with all the violent images along with the alcohol still coursing through my veins. ¡°What if I just went to the police?¡±


    ¡°Hey,¡± he snaps. ¡°Don¡¯t talk foolishness. We wash our own dirtyundry.¡±


    I hate how my body responds to him, even after everything that happened. His hand wraps around my head and twists in my hair and he yanks back, hard. His head bends over me and not for the first time, my mouth is dry when I look at him. My throat constricts as that violent energy focuses on me.


    His ws are out.


    ¡°You listen to me, Adriana. You never talk to the cops about any of our business, or anything that you might see around us. If you do, you better hope that we never find you.¡±


    ¡°F-fuck you.¡±


    Tears slide down my face as he looks down at me, impassive. I feel betrayed by the sweet man who delivered me meals, paid for my college, and did all the considerate things that my mother never did for me.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t hurt you, Ade. They would, and I¡¯d be powerless to stop them.¡± His face softens as he wipes tears from my eyes. ¡°Please, I¡¯m begging you. This is one rule you can never break.¡±


    Maybe I¡¯m not crazy for wanting him. He brutalizes anyone who hurts me. There¡¯s no waiting for the police to make an investigation, just immediate action. Immediate consequences. And yes, the friction in his world asionally affects me, but it¡¯s better than having no one at all.


    Vince kisses me like he needs me, like he can¡¯t live another second without feeling my bare skin. I need him, too. My hands feel the sinewy, hard pectoral muscles before sweeping up to stroke his shoulders and biceps. He¡¯s one hundred percent lean muscle, so powerful he lifts me into his arms with no great effort. He deposits me on the couch and he immediately removes my jeans, his hands sweeping up my bare thighs to grasp my panties and pulls those down, too.


    He parts my legs so that they hook over his shoulders, and I¡¯m clenching my core as I feel his hot breath steaming between my legs. A high gasp leaves my throat as a warm, wet muscle strokes my clit. His dark head is between my thighs as his mouth kisses and sucks me, making my back arch. It doesn¡¯t take long for my breaths toe out in whimpers. He pumps his fingers inside me while his tongue does circles around my clit, asionally closing his mouth over me.


    ¡°Vince!¡±


    The fingers work faster, curling upwards while his tongue teases me, until I can feel the searing pressure building up inside.

 25

    And then he leaves me. I¡¯m still standing on the edge. I just need one small push, but he kisses my thigh before he leans forward. I grab his head, heart pounding, and taste myself as his lips crash against mine. He¡¯s ripping at my clothes, but I don¡¯t want to separate from him. From the moment we met, it was always crazy, hot passion. I can¡¯t leave him any more than he can leave me.


    My shirt flies over my head and he tears my bra strap in his haste to remove it. Then his arms wrap around me and under my legs, lifting me like I weigh nothing. Every time he does, I¡¯m always awed by his strength. In his arms, I feel small. Protected.


    He smiles down at me, the cocky smirk on his face as he takes me to his bedroom. He ces me on the bed and stands in front of me, ripping off his clothes as darkness floats on the surface of his face. In a few seconds, he¡¯s as naked as I am, climbing over me. He flips me on my stomach and spreads my legs. He sits on my legs, pinning me there until finally he moves over my back, nting hot kisses in the center as he parts my legs.


    Theforter swallows my gasp as he pushes roughly inside me. I cry out as he fills me, my body stretching to amodate him. I can hear my wetness around him, and he lets out a satisfied growl.


    ¡°Goddamn, you¡¯re wet. You really like it this way, don¡¯t you?¡±


    I bite my lip to keep from crying out as he thrusts hard, but then he pounds again when I open my mouth to breathe and a small moan escapes.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    His weight presses over my back as he wraps an arm around my abdomen and pulls me against him, so that he fills me more deeply.


    ¡°I knew it the moment I met you that you wanted me. I saw it in your eyes, how they were all over me at those games. You wanted my fat cock pounding your pussy, and I wanted it too, baby. I just wasn¡¯t prepared for how good it would be, how much I¡¯d want you.¡±


    Hearing those words growled into my neck deepens the pleasure. I feel sparks tingling all over my skin. He thrusts so hard that I feel it stabbing my stomach. The hand ttened over my stomach presses hard, making everything tighter.


    ¡°Fuck, I know I should let you go for your own sake, but I can¡¯t bear thinking of you with some other schmuck.¡±


    It¡¯s like he¡¯s pounding everything into me. The pleasure rises inside me, so strong that everything drops away. All of my insecurities, fears, and worries are gone. I¡¯m moaning his name, begging him to go faster, but he doesn¡¯t. Vince goes at his own pace, his mouth all over my neck as he digs into me. He nails me over and over, breathing so hard I think he might copse. Finally, he pulls out and strokes himself,ing as his hand dips lower to rub my clit. I copse like a house of cards, folding in on myself as my orgasm crashes against me.


    Vince groans as he lies beside me, his chest heaving. I lie across him and kiss his mouth, the stubbles on his chin, his jaw. I¡¯m filled with relief when his eyes slide over to mine and his lip twitches. He¡¯s mercurial-unpredictable, but I love it.


    I love him.


    The enormity of that crashes into me, leaves me trembling in his arms. Part of me wants to dismiss it. What the hell do I know about love?


    Nothing. I don¡¯t know a goddamn thing. I¡¯m my mother¡¯s meal ticket, but I don¡¯t think she loves me.


    All I know is that I¡¯ve epted every dark truth about him, and I still need him with me. His world is filled with people who live in the darkest corners of society. He may even be the monster that he ims to be. It still doesn¡¯t change the fact that when I¡¯m not with him, it¡¯s like a pounding ache in my chest that never goes away until I hear his voice, or feel his breath whispering on my shoulder. I¡¯ve never felt so alive and strong than when I¡¯m with him. Maybe he loves me, too. Why else would he take me to see his mother, if I wasn¡¯t someone special?


    ¡°I love you.¡±


    The words tumble from my lips and he opens his eyes, cutting me with his sharp gaze.


    I feel cold. His eyes strike me like a whip and his arms shrink from around me. Vince sits up on the bed, saying nothing and grabs his boxers from the floor. He puts them on before leaving the bedroom. Leaving me.


    Blood rushes into my face as I sit on his bed. What just happened?


    He rejected me.


    I curl into a ball and I think of my dorm at Columbia, where I can hide under the sheets and sob myself to sleep. I need to leave, but I want to be invisible. I can¡¯t stand the sight of his pitying gaze. Tears well up, blotting colors together.


    I thought he loved me, too.


    Trying not to think of how pathetic I must look, I grab a towel from his dresser and I wrap it around myself tightly, as if it can guard me from the humiliation I¡¯ll feel when I step outside.


    Fuck it. I¡¯m not going to tiptoe around him.


    Since when is being honest something to be ashamed about?


    My feet walk over the cold wood, and despite my resolution I stall when I see him sitting on the couch with his head in his hands.


    I walk around the couch and stoop down, my face burning as I collect my clothes. Finally, they¡¯re all gathered in my chest. The pain of his rejection stinging me, I turn around and head back.


    ¡°Where the fuck do you think you¡¯re going?¡±


    His head is raised and he looks right at me with so much intensity that I take a step backwards. ¡°Home,¡± I say in a firm voice.


    ¡°You¡¯re not going anywhere.¡±


    Vince rises to his full height, looking downright menacing as he walks closer, pinning me against the ss.


    A sh of anger clenches my teeth. ¡°I¡¯m not staying here. I don¡¯t want to waste my time with someone who doesn¡¯t feel the same.¡±


    But Vince is angry too, for reasons I won¡¯t even try toprehend. The heat in his gaze makes me tten against the wall.


    ¡°Part of me wants to get rid of you. You¡¯ve been taking pieces of me away, little by little. I¡¯m not used to worrying about another person, not used to all this fucking responsibility.¡±


    He ms his fist into the ss, and I wince as I feel the shockwaves through my head. His face falls like he immediately regrets it and his lips crash against mine, his hands wrapping around me and tearing off my towel. The clothes tumble to the ground while I¡¯m still gasping in shock. He pulls me into his chest and his all-epassing heat wraps around me, filling me with joy.


    His breathing is ragged as he whispers in my ear, ¡°I love you, too.¡±N?velD(ram)a.?rg owns this content.

 26

    ¡°Ten thousand dors?¡±


    My voice is like a gunshot, a strong burst of wind that immediately gets swallowed by all the shit crammed in the house. There are boxes piled all the way to the ceiling now, when they were only halfway there thest time I visited. My heels ck over the filthy hardwood floors. They once gleamed, but now age and neglect made them fade.


    ¡°What the hell have you been buying?¡±


    Mom leans on the kitchen counter, one of the few ces that still has space. There¡¯s a faint rotting smelling from the sink. I don¡¯t know how she cooks, much less eats, in this ce. I grab the dirty ss door in the kitchen and slide it open to let fresh air inside.


    ¡°It¡¯s none of your business what I buy.¡±


    Mom tosses her lit cigarette in the scummy sink. She crosses her arms and pouts like she¡¯s a child.


    ¡°Oh yes, it is my business, considering I¡¯m paying for it. Jesus, can¡¯t you clean once in a while?¡±


    Vince has been bugging me about meeting my mom. He¡¯s a traditional guy, but I¡¯ve been avoiding it like the gue. I¡¯m embarrassed to introduce her to him.


    I mean, look at this ce. It¡¯s a sty-theplete opposite of the environment he grew up in.


    ¡°Go ahead, mock your mother. I¡¯m sure your father would be very proud of you.¡± Her eyes cut into me as her mouth twists with rage. She wears bleach stained yoga pants and a tank top, which exposes her sagging, prematurely aged skin.


    I haven¡¯t visited in weeks, not even bothering to call, because I don¡¯t want her to burst my bubble of happiness. Now I feel like I abandoned her.


    ¡°Ma, I¡¯m not mocking you,¡± I say in a softer voice.


    ¡°Yes you are,¡± she says, her throat thick with tears. ¡°I need more money. These debts aren¡¯t being paid fast enough.¡±


    Her ungratefulness fans the fire inside me. ¡°I¡¯m doing the best I can. I¡¯m not giving you ten grand, Ma.¡±


    She dissolves into tears, her chipped nails wing her face as she sobs. ¡°If your father was alive, he¡¯d¡­¡±


    He would have divorced you.


    ¡°He¡¯d take care of me, not leave me to the wolves like this.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s his fault we¡¯re in this mess.¡±


    My head pounds as I listen to her sob andin. Our rtionship is dead. She never asks me about my life. Hell, she doesn¡¯t even know about Vince because she never asks me anything about myself. Vince¡¯s mother knows more about my day-to-day life than she does. I look inside myself, searching for a scrap of affection or something other than contempt for my mother and I feel like a sociopath. She makes me feel like a terrible person.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go outside and take a walk. A bit of fresh air would do you good.¡±


    Instead, she pulls a cigarette out of a battered pack and attempts to light it, but she¡¯s almost out of fluid. ¡°Vaffanculo!¡±


    The stic light streaks across the room and bounces off the wall as Mom copses in an empty chair, looking depressed.


    Despite how she treats me, there¡¯s still some sick part of me that can¡¯t bear to see her suffer. ¡°Why do you have to be like this? I can help you clean the house. We can get rid of all this stuff and make it how it used to be.¡±


    There are boxes and boxes of crap everywhere, even in the kitchen. I grab one and look inside and there¡¯s a bunch of useless crap inside, mostly stuff bought from the dor store. I take it and move it outside.


    ¡°Where are you bringing that? I just bought that!¡±Exclusive ? material by N?(/v)elDrama.Org.


    ¡°It¡¯s junk.¡±


    She grabs it from me, bristling. ¡°Do not touch my stuff.¡±


    ¡°Technically, it¡¯s my stuff since I bought it,¡± I say nastily.


    Fine. Fuck it. I¡¯m tired of this. My watch tells me that Vincent is out front, waiting. I know that he¡¯lle to the front door if I take too long, because he wants to meet her.


    ¡°I have to go.¡± I stalk past her without saying goodbye, fuming as I pass by the rows and columns of crap.


    ¡°What about-Adriana, I still need the money!¡±


    ¡°Sell some of this junk,¡± I say without a backwards nce. ¡°Oh, and Happy fucking Thanksgiving.¡±


    The door ms behind me and I practically sprint to the ck car waiting by the curb. I open the door and slide inside, wiping tears from my face. Vince, dressed in a handsome charcoal suit, frowns as he watches me cry. He¡¯s used to it by now.


    ¡°Sorry. Let¡¯s just go.¡±


    ¡°You should stop visiting her,¡± he says, shaking his head. ¡°I don¡¯t like seeing you like this.¡±


    I¡¯m already regretting the fight. It¡¯s a holiday, after all. And she¡¯s alone in that crummy ce. ¡°What can you do? She¡¯s my mom.¡±


    His lips tighten and he carefully avoids my gaze. I grab the hand resting on the parking break and he squeezes me back, turning his head to smile.


    I don¡¯t know what the hell I¡¯d do without him.


    ¡°One day, I¡¯m going to meet her.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want you to,¡± I say softly.


    My nerves are bundled in knots as Vince drives away, heading towards Long Ind. On the way there, we pick up his mother, who greets me enthusiastically. We¡¯re spending Thanksgiving with his boss and I can¡¯t begin to describe how much that terrifies me.


    ¡°Adriana, doesn¡¯t your mother live in Brooklyn? Should we get her too?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I say a little too quickly. ¡°She¡¯s-ah, spending it with friends.¡±


    In the rear view mirror, I catch Mrs. Cesare¡¯s watchful gaze. ¡°Oh, I see.¡±


    I bite my lip as Vince pulls into a ridiculously long driveway somewhere in East Hampton. Thewn is freshly mown and bright green. Other cars are lined up along the driveway already, and I can see people moving inside the huge country house.


    Vincent gets out of the car and takes my hand, pulling me in close. ¡°You¡¯ll do great,¡± he says, nting a kiss on my temple. ¡°Just rx.¡±


    The happy look on his face fills me with confidence. He¡¯s right. There¡¯s no reason to be so scared.


    The oak door opens as we climb up the steps. I catch a glimpse of the interior: bright, white walls and abstract paintings from the 80¡¯s are stered on the walls. Creamy furniture fills the house, along with old, faded rugs. The woman standing in the doorway looks about ten years younger than the don, who stands in the kitchen with several other people. Her big hair sits on her head in bleached-blonde waves, so brittle from dying month after month. She wears a gold ne with a picture of a saint, gold bracelets and diamonds. Her blouse is overly floral and she extends a w-like hand to me. Her fake nails dig into my skin as I shake it.


    Dear God. So this is what a mob wife looks like.

 27

    I imagine myself stuffed into those clothes with all that jewelry and a swift wave of revulsion rises in my throat. I¡¯m only wearing one diamond-encrusted bracelet, the only thing I allowed Vince to buy me.This text is ? N?velDrama/.Org.


    She kisses me on both cheeks and the smell of her hair products billow around me. She bumps her bony cheek against mine, kissing the air. ¡°Nice to meet you, Adriana.¡±


    ¡°Great to meet you too, Mrs. Vittorio.¡±


    ¡°Please, call me Carm.¡± She revolves on the spot and greets Mrs. Cesare with even more warmth and my gaze wanders around the house.


    I get a strong vibe of the 80¡¯s; a stark contrast from Vince¡¯s home, but it reminds me vividly of my nonna¡¯s home when she was still alive. My heart jumps when Jack Vittorioughs at something the two other men said. He notices us finally.


    ¡°Vinny!¡± His eyes suddenly sh towards me and his smile twitches. ¡°You kids are still together, eh?¡±


    Vinceughs, greeting his boss as he nods his head towards Nicky and another man I don¡¯t recognize. ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°She must be something special.¡±


    My face gets hot as Vittorio gives me a slight smile.


    ¡°Yes, she is.¡± His arm slides around my waist and I feel Nicky¡¯s greedy gaze on me. Vince¡¯s lips press against my neck in a quick kiss. It¡¯s like he ismunicating to the others: She¡¯s mine.


    The smell of Thanksgiving cooking wafts into the kitchen as Jack pours us sses of wine, gesturing towards the tableden with appetizers. Feeling weak in his embrace, I take the ss of wine offered to me and we make a toast.


    ¡°Salute.¡±


    I take a sip of the dry wine, and Vince turns his head. ¡°Go hang out with the other women.¡±


    It¡¯s a clear dismissal for me to leave him alone with his friends, but I don¡¯t want to leave his side, not when his hands make me flush. His fingertips slowly massage me. I feel them right through the fabric as if he¡¯s touching my skin, and I suppress a shudder of desire.


    Knowing how much I hate public affection, he pulls me closer and his lips, slightly wet with wine, kiss mine. He pulls away, his eyesughing as he ps my side.


    ¡°Go.¡±


    My face is a public disy of shame and I walk away from him. The two other wives sit in the living room with their drinks and I hang out in the doorway shyly until they wave me inside. Vince¡¯s mother is helping Mrs. Vittorio in the kitchen, so it¡¯s just me, Nicky¡¯s wife, and someone else I don¡¯t know. They¡¯re all at least twenty years older than me and I feel out of ce in my simple blue dress.


    ¡°Adriana, hi! I¡¯m Nicky¡¯s wife, Marisa.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Stefani.¡±


    I shake their hands, both of their false nails digging into my skin.


    ¡°So, Adriana I¡¯ve heard you and Vince have been together for a while?¡±


    Both of them look at me with wide eyes and smiles as if I¡¯m a rare specimen.


    ¡°Yeah, about five months.¡±


    Marisa gasps out loud and shares an excited look with Stefani. ¡°We¡¯ve never seen him be with the same girl for so long.¡±


    My chest shakes with a hollowugh. Are they counting the days until Vince dumps me? Either way, I feel ufortable with so much attention. ¡°He¡¯s very sweet.¡±


    They beam at me. ¡°I heard you work with the boys at their card games,¡± she says in a low voice. ¡°What¡¯s that like?¡±


    I squirm on the couch under their eager looks. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if I¡¯m supposed to talk about it.¡±


    Thankfully, both women drop the subject and move on to something else. I try to pay attention to what they¡¯re talking about, but I¡¯m very quickly bored. They¡¯re discussing which contractor they should use to redo their kitchens, and my mind zones out. I wish Vince would call me back into the room. Instead, I get up and decide to check on Mrs. Vittorio in the kitchen.


    A huge, golden turkey sits on the counter, steam rising from the huge pan. Mrs. Cesare is busy cooking the gravy using the drippings from the pan, and I see tureens of cranberry sauce, bowls of mashed potatoes, a dish of baked yams. It all looks delicious.


    ¡°Adriana, could you tell the boys the food¡¯s ready? They¡¯re in the basement.¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡±


    She points it out to me and I open the door, noticing how quiet the house is. I descend the wooden staircase to the partially unfinished basement, which holds exercise equipment, a refrigerator, and a washer and dryer.


    Several low, male voices make me pause on the staircase.


    ¡°-thought you didn¡¯t like to talk business in the house?¡± Vince¡¯s voice makes the hair rise on my neck. I know I¡¯m not supposed to listen, but I can¡¯t help it.


    ¡°I sweep for bugs every week,¡± Jack Vittorio says in a shrugging tone. ¡°You know, Richie still has a real hard-on for you. You¡¯ve caused me a lot of problems, Vinny-boy.¡± Jack¡¯s voice is even lower, deadlier.


    ¡°Fucking guy,¡± Vince spits. ¡°I paid for his brother¡¯s fucking physical therapy and I¡¯m giving him ten percent of my action.¡±


    ¡°He might not walk again, Vince.¡±


    I can almost hear his unconcerned shrug. My hands clench the railings so tightly that my knuckles turn white.


    ¡°That prick deserved it.¡± Another voice, Nicky¡¯s, rises to Vince¡¯s defense.


    ¡°They went after Adriana. I¡¯m not doing anything more for them. You know how many weeks it took to convince her she could go back to school?¡±


    I was wondering when my name would crop up.


    There¡¯s a scuffing sound and I tense on the staircase.


    ¡°I¡¯m not ming you for what you did, but I need you to cool your jets and do as you¡¯re told.¡± His voice ispletely devoid of warmth, and even I shudder from the force leaving his throat. ¡°And keep that girl under your goddamn thumb. Thest thing I need is a made guy¡¯s girlfriend who knows too much bing a fucking FBI-¡±


    ¡°Jesus. Rx, Jack. It won¡¯te to that. She does what I tell her.¡±


    My hand slips on the rail and my heel ms down hard on the concrete step, echoing through the basement.


    ¡°Food¡¯s ready!¡± I bellow in a strange, overly cheerful voice. I turn around and run upstairs before I hear them acknowledge me, mming the door behind me.


    What the fuck did I just overhear?

 28

    Vince knows that something¡¯s wrong when we drive back to Brooklyn to drop his mother off, but he can¡¯t say anything in front of her. He gives me suspicious looks as he drives back, and I smile half-heartedly like nothing¡¯s amiss.


    The truth is that I¡¯ve overheard way too much for my own good, and I¡¯ve already connected the dots in the five minutes following that conversation in the basement. I wish I was too stupid to understand what they were talking about, but it¡¯s really not that hard to put it all together. Vincent put Silvio in the hospital, beating him so badly that he ¡°may not walk again¡± and now he¡¯s paying the consequences. And I was threatened in retaliation, but that¡¯s not the part that scares me.


    What scares me is that the Vittorio boss doesn¡¯t trust me. Perhaps he doesn¡¯t approve of my whole arrangement with Vince.


    Fuck.


    ¡°Bye Adriana!¡±


    I twist my head around as she leaves the car. ¡°Sorry-bye!¡±


    The door shuts and Vince gives me another one of his cutting looks. I try to remind myself that he loves me. He would never hurt me.


    Right?


    Even though I¡¯ve epted the darkness inside him, I still find myself wondering whether I really trust him.


    ¡°How much did you overhear?¡±


    It¡¯s like he can read my thoughts. I look at him, stunned as he continues to look forward.


    Crap.


    ¡°Overhear? Overhear what?¡±


    He gives me a bored look. ¡°C¡¯mon, Adriana. You¡¯re a bad liar. Let¡¯s skip the part where you pretend you didn¡¯t sneak up on us in the basement.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t sneak up on anyone,¡± I say in a heated voice, abandoning all pretenses. ¡°You were the ones talking out in the open.¡±


    ¡°You have a knack for identally walking in on business you¡¯re not supposed to know about.¡±


    My face drains of blood, but Vince¡¯s looks unruffled. I notice that we¡¯re heading towards his ce, and not mine. ¡°We¡¯re going to your house? I thought you needed to drop me off?¡±


    ¡°Change of ns,¡± he says in a gritty voice. ¡°I need to strip search you for a wire.¡±


    ¡°Not funny,¡± I say when heughs.


    When we¡¯re finally in his apartment, locked in that cold silence, I let myself breathe. Vince¡¯s hands are all over me, iming my body, but my mind¡¯s still pounding with what I heard. The darkness grins at me when Vince lifts his head.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    I search him. ¡°Do you love me?¡±


    ¡°Of course, I do.¡±


    Still there¡¯s that unsettling feeling in my gut. I believe that he believes he loves me. The way that he holds me, talks to me-it¡¯s like I¡¯m his drug. I know he¡¯s mine.


    ¡°I¡¯d never do anything to hurt you. Ever.¡±


    He pulls back, smiling. ¡°Why are you saying this all of a sudden?¡±


    ¡°I heard a lot of things I didn¡¯t want to know.¡±


    Hard fingers massage the back of my neck. ¡°You can¡¯t let that stuff bother you.¡±


    ¡°How can you say that when your boss doesn¡¯t trust me?¡±


    Vince doesn¡¯t seem to be listening. He unzips the back of my dress, kissing my neck and shoulder as the dress slips down. His lips and tongue provide my skin with instant heat, electricity shoots down my body. My fingers dig into his scalp and I feel like a hopeless ve.


    ¡°Vince.¡±


    He stops and sweeps my hair from my face. ¡°Baby, I promise you that you have nothing to fear from him.¡± His soft lips fall over mine, briefly touching. ¡°Or me.¡±


    A siren wails outside, the sound growing like a drawn-out scream before it lowers to a intive wail. Inside the back of the deli store, there are only two tables and I¡¯m overdressed. The cheap, green carpet scuffs my heels. I inhale sharply as if it¡¯s too stuffy inside. With five people in the room, it feels crowded. Hard to breathe.


    I don¡¯t like it.


    Nicky stands near the door, vetting people in by looking through the peephole. It¡¯s a much smaller operation than I¡¯m used to. Only three guys from Vince¡¯s outfit are inside to guard us. The yers are of a much lower caliber. From the states of their shabby clothes, they look like chronic gamblers who can barely afford to sit in the game. I¡¯m not really hopeful about tips, but everyone seems nice enough and every little bit they tip me helps.


    We¡¯re ying Texas Hold¡¯Em, and the current pot holds about two thousand dors. The man on my left keeps raising the bet. A disheveled looking man in his forties clenches his teeth together, because his pile of chips is dwindling. The final cardpletes the river and everyone shows their cards. He has a full house and everyone groans as he rakes in his chips. I smile at him, happy that he won the round.


    Out of the corner of my eye, I see Nicky patting his suit for his weapon. The blinds crinkle as he slips a finger through them and looks.


    BAM.


    I throw the cards in my hands as the door is kicked wide open. Men dressed in ck burst inside, screaming.


    ¡°Nobody fucking move!¡±


    It¡¯s happening again.


    Everything fades away to a dull murmur as I see them burst through my house.


    ¡°Please don¡¯t! Don¡¯t hurt him!¡±


    I think I¡¯ve been knocked on the floor, or maybe I¡¯m clutching the legs of the felt table as male voices scream in my ears.


    ¡°Give us your fucking money!¡±


    A sardonic voice answers him. ¡°This is a low-level game, guys.¡±


    The sound of something being thrown on the floor. ¡°You heard what he said. Shut the fuck up and fill it!¡±


    My dad. They¡¯ve got my dad by his throat and my body fills with lead, because I know what¡¯s going to happen. I¡¯m powerless to stop it.


    ¡°Don¡¯t kill him!¡±


    My legs take me in front of him. I can almost feel my bare feet on the cold wooden floors, even though I know I¡¯m curled up under the table with my head buried in my arms, shaking like a leaf.


    ¡°Fucking bitch! I told you to give me your purse or I¡¯ll put a bullet in your fucking head!¡±


    The voice bellows right into my ear and I cringe away from it, not knowing what¡¯s real and what¡¯s not. My chest is so incredibly tight that I can¡¯t draw breath, even though I try hard. It¡¯s like trying to breathe through a straw. My limbs are frozen. I open my eyes and I see dirty carpet. I can feel something hard digging into my head.


    ¡°You guys know who you¡¯re robbing?¡± Nicky¡¯s voice asks.


    ¡°I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP!¡±


    It digs into my skull.Content property of N?velDra/ma.Org.


    ¡°Hurry the fuck up, bitch!¡±


    A boot suddenly kicks out, connecting hard with my ribs. It knocks the air out of my lungs and my body flips over. I see a masked man leaning over me. I¡¯m staring into the nozzle of a gun. Swift, speeding death is right in those two ck holes, seconds away.


    The purse is near my hand. Just give him the fucking thing. It seems like such a simple action, but he¡¯s screaming in my face and I can¡¯t move a muscle. There¡¯s nothing but terror squeezing the life out of me.


    A door opens suddenly-the bathroom. One of the yers emerges. The noise startles one of the gunmen and he swings his 20-gauge shotgun. The st seems to m into my ears, shattering my hearing. I open my mouth and noisees out, but I can¡¯t hear it. There¡¯s more gunfire. CRACK. CRACK. I¡¯m lying on the carpet, my ear against the carpet as my whole body convulses with the shots. Their legs run as bags of cash bounce on their thighs.


    ¡°FUCK!¡±


    A harsh cry of pain makes me jerk my head. I see Nicky rolling on the floor, holding his leg, which has been shot. The door bounces open and strewn in the room I see at least two bodies.


    Save him. Help him.


    I see myself getting up, running to the bathroom to get towels that¡¯ll slow the bleeding. From above, I watch as I wrap them around his leg and he asks me if I¡¯m all right, but I can¡¯t speak. I¡¯m not even in my own body.


    ¡°Call Vince,¡± he says. ¡°Do it!¡±


    Blood is soaking through the towels and I watch as one of the guard returns. ¡°We got one of them, Nicky.¡±


    ¡°Take the car. Get rid of the body, now,¡± he says in a strained voice. ¡°We need Vince over here. Adriana!¡±


    He yells, his round face ugly and violent. Finally, I see myself standing up and walking calmly towards my discarded purse. It¡¯s then that I notice my hands arepletely covered in Nicky¡¯s blood.


    Fuck.


    Fuck.

 29

    A spike of terror finally stabs my brain, ripping me back inside my body. I feel the numbness in my limbs, the wide-eyed panic, and I dig through my purse to get the phone. It slips in my hand with all the blood. I scream a frustrated cry as I unlock the phone and call Vince.


    ¡°Hey, baby. What¡¯s up?¡±


    The wave of relief I feel from hearing his voice knocks down the walls I¡¯ve built up. I can¡¯t manage anything but a wordless sob.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    ¡°Take the fucking phone from her!¡±


    Someone yanks it out of my grasp and speaks into the receiver and I slump on the floor. Nicky screams into the phone.


    ¡°Cock-sucking motherless fucks robbed us. Killed Jimmy and we got two of them. One escaped. She¡¯s fine. I¡¯m the one who got shot!¡±


    I can¡¯t let go of the panic I¡¯m feeling. Any moment, they¡¯re going toe right back inside and finish us off. I watch the door as they drag the bodies out, flinging them into a trunk of a car. At least the store is in a secluded area.


    A couple of them kneel next to me, asking me over and over if I¡¯m all right. No, I¡¯m not fucking all right. They snap their fingers in front of my face, but I don¡¯t move a muscle. The only movement I make is to wipe the horrifying sight of the blood all over my hands. I drag them over the carpet, over and over.


    Get it off me. Get it off!


    The sound of tires squealing outside makes my heart seize with hope. The sound of a car door opening and frantic footsteps-and then a tall man is silhouetted in the doorway. I see his whitened face, his eyes sweeping over the carnage before finally settling on me.


    ¡°Adriana!¡±


    He runs over the bloodstains, ignoring Nicky as he stoops down next to me. His face-it¡¯s the first time I¡¯ve seen fear. His lips are shaking as he looks up and down my body.This text is ? N?velDrama/.Org.


    ¡°Are you hurt?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I finally moan. It¡¯s like a switch flips and I¡¯m so relieved he¡¯s here. Everything will be fine, now that he¡¯s here. I¡¯m saved.


    Nicky yells in a strangled voice. ¡°A little fucking help over here?¡±


    Vince kisses my forehead. Satisfied that I¡¯m unhurt, he turns towards Nicky. I want to scream for him toe back to me. Don¡¯t leave me.


    Everything happens so slowly in front of my eyes, but I don¡¯t pay attention. The cards litter the carpet like confetti, except there¡¯s blood soaking through them. I want to vomit. I want to leave.


    Finally, he takes me by the arm. It¡¯s hard for me to move, much less stand, but Vince wraps his arm around my waist.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go home.¡±


    My fingers dig into his arm when we step outside. I cringe and bury my face into his shoulder, fully expecting to be gunned down at any second. Vince almost has to get a crowbar to pry me off his arm.


    Once we¡¯re back at his ce, I can finally breathe. As soon as the door closes, he pulls me into his chest and wraps his arms around me.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Ade. I should have never let you go to those other games.¡± The tightness in his voice is a small testament of the emotions he kept buried.


    After nearly an hour, my heart rate is still jacked. I want to dive at every loud noise, and clinging to Vince is just about the only thing keeping me from losing my shit.


    ¡°I can¡¯t do this. I can¡¯t do this!¡± My voice rises with hysteria, and Vince tries to help by running his hands up and down my back.


    ¡°I hate myself for not being there to protect you.¡± His voice takes a violent turn. ¡°When I find that piece of shit, I¡¯ll tear him apart limb from limb.¡±


    I feel his rage rumbling through his chest, feeding some of my anger. It horrifies me that I¡¯m feeling so detached about their deaths.


    They deserve it.


    ¡°Who were they?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know yet,¡± he says in a lower voice. ¡°They probably had no idea who they were dealing with.¡±


    Slowly, he walks me into the living room, where we sit down on the grey couch. Nerves still stinging with adrenaline, I bury my head in his neck and I try to rx. I try to focus on his chest rising and falling, the smell of him, so sharp and masculine. The sharp contours of his body.


    The stress builds in my head and I feel like my skull might explode, and then I cry. It shames me to do it, but I cry into his shoulder as everything releases from me. All the pain, fear, and stress pour out of me and Vince holds me like he¡¯ll never let me go.


    ¡°It¡¯ll never happen again.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve said that before.¡± I can hardly get the words out between my sobbing. Vince¡¯s arms gently detach from mine, but his face is contorted with rage. He stands up, pacing the apartment with his hand on the gun at his hip, and suddenly he ms his fist into the ss wall. I hear the crunch of his fist and shudder as his hot gaze moves over me.


    Nothing frightens me more than seeing Vince lose control. He seizes a ss sitting on the table and hurls it at the wall, where it smashes into millions of shards. His muscles ripple as he grabs a wooden chair by the ind in his kitchen. With a scream of fury, he hurls it across the room where it scrapes over the wooden floor, ruining the beautiful hardwood. His chest heaves for a moment as he stares at the dry wall.


    ¡°Vince.¡±


    Another inhuman sound erupts from his throat as heshes out, his fist bursting through the drywall as a cloud of white dust sprinkles over his arm.


    Maria was right all along. He¡¯s a monster.


    When he sees me staring at him, the confident, charming mask slides over his face and he takes a step towards me.


    ¡°No, don¡¯t.¡± I bolt upright, dragging the nket on the couch with me as if it¡¯ll protect me from him. ¡°I-I need to go.¡±


    A flicker of the demon overshadows his face. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re scaring me. I want to leave, now.¡±


    ¡°They robbed us!¡± he says with heat in his voice. ¡°They shot one of my yers for no fucking reason. You could have been killed! I have a right to be pissed. I¡¯m not letting you leave.¡±


    My mouth is dry as I look at him. We¡¯re too different. The gulf between us stretches for eons. ¡°I can¡¯t do this anymore, Vince. This was a huge mistake.¡±


    ¡°No more card games,¡± he says in a soft voice.


    Vince tries to take my hand, but I rip it from his grasp.


    ¡°No more people¡¯s hands getting smashed, and me nearly getting killed. No more you.¡±


    This time, he flinches like I struck his face. He stands there, reeling in shock before his features harden once more. ¡°I know that you¡¯re very upset, so I¡¯m not going to yell at you right now.¡±

 30

    He takes another step forward and I automatically step back. Vince¡¯s face broods with malcontent, and he suddenly lunges, grabbing my arm so that I¡¯m against his body.


    ¡°I need to go out, and when Ie back you better fucking be here.¡±


    Under my confusion and fear I feel searing hot anger. ¡°You do not own me, Vincent.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I do,¡± he says in a ck voice.


    His lips crash over mine and suddenly my back ms against the wall. It¡¯s messy and violent. I¡¯m furious, trying to shove him away but he pins me against the wall with his weight, holding my arms above my head as heys stunning kiss after kiss on his mouth, and I soften against my will. His face millimeters from mine, he smiles slightly and I hate myself for the feelings it gives me.


    This is toxic.


    Then I¡¯m clinging to his neck, as tears burst from my throat. He holds me and rubs my back as every aching sob shakes from my chest. All those times I cried myself to sleep whenever I had nightmares are gone, because he¡¯s there to hold me.


    ¡°Please.¡±


    I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m begging him for. I want him to leave. I want him to stay. I hate him. I love him.


    His fingers dig into my head, but he lets me go, the darkness almost gone from his face. He almost looks like a little boy.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be back soon.¡±


    Vince¡¯s arms fall from me and he strides back to the door to head out and do God knows what.


    ¡°What are you going to do?¡±


    He pauses mid-step. ¡°Find the guy and kill him.¡±


    Jesus.


    Another horrible thrill through my heart almost makes me pass out. ¡°Don¡¯t say that!¡±


    ¡°You asked.¡±


    I look at him angrily, wondering why he¡¯s pretending to be obtuse. ¡°I¡¯m not supposed to know.¡±


    He gives me a sad smile. ¡°It¡¯s toote for all that, sweetheart.¡±


    * * *


    With Vincent¡¯s suffocating presence gone, I¡¯m able to think about things. I think about how I got myself into this monumentally fucked up situation. He says I can¡¯t leave, but the front door is right there. I could run to my dorm and tell Maria about everything, but he would drag me right back to his apartment.


    My finger pauses over my phone. I can just imagine Maria¡¯s horrified face. What the hell do I do now? On top of everything, Mom keeps texting me, begging me for more money.


    Please call me so I can scream at you.


    It¡¯s not my fault. It¡¯s hers. She forced me into a corner, to the point of desperation where I actually took money from a monster.


    What was I thinking?


    Now he owns me. I can¡¯t just leave.


    I pace around his apartment, ripping open cabs and drawers, rifling through their contents. What I¡¯m searching for eludes me; I just need something to distract me. Maybe I¡¯m trying to find evidence that he¡¯s a good man. That I didn¡¯t just forsake everything in my life for a man who¡¯s bad for me. His CD collection has lots of Jazz and Blues; the few pictures in his house are of his mother, and people I identify as Nicky, Paulie, and the rest of his crew. None of his father, interestingly enough. I¡¯m like a sponge, soaking up all this useless information about Vincent. His underwear drawer has mostly ck briefs, but nothing else of interesting. Lots of suits in his closet. There¡¯s a huge box of condoms in his nightstand.This text is ? N?velDrama/.Org.


    ¡°Having fun?¡±


    I m it shut, my heart thudding loudly as I wheel around and see a bloodied Vince leaning against the doorway of the bedroom, looking tired but bemused. There¡¯s blood all over his white sleeves and I already know whose it is.


    He killed someone tonight.


    There¡¯s a grin like the Cheshire cat on his face as he steps forward.


    ¡°Don¡¯t! Get away from me.¡±


    The smile disappears. Whatever bloodlust he had before, he purged it tonight. My sweet, charming Vincent stands in front of me with a hurt look on his face.


    ¡°What have I ever done to hurt you? I¡¯ve only loved and respected you, paid for your school, protected you-¡±


    You scare me.


    ¡°If you can hurt other people that easily, you could do it to me.¡±


    ¡°Never.¡±


    He says it so forcefully that I know I¡¯ve offended him. I¡¯m cornered against the wall as he invades my space, his eyes forbidding.


    ¡°I watched my old man p around my mother growing up. I¡¯d nevery a hand on you, Adriana.¡± A sudden smile twitches on his face. ¡°Not unless you wanted me to.¡±


    My face flinches when he touches my cheek. His eyes are heavy with longing. Can¡¯t he realize I¡¯m cringing from his touch?

 31

    ¡°I want to leave. Just let me go.¡±


    A shadow crosses his face. ¡°You can¡¯t leave, Ade. I told you that in the beginning. I gave you a chance, but now it¡¯s toote. I won¡¯t let you go.¡±


    I whimper suddenly, but he quiets the noise with his finger on my lips.


    ¡°My boss doesn¡¯t trust you. If you leave me and the games, you¡¯ll be clipped for sure. I won¡¯t be able to persuade him not to.¡±


    Something flips inside me as I look at his calm face. How dare he look so fucking calm?


    ¡°You¡¯re a bastard. If I knew this would happen, I would have never worked for you.¡±


    Anger twists his face. ¡°Did Ie knocking down your fucking door? No. You came in my life, honey. You¡¯re the one who asked me if I had a girlfriend, remember?¡± He smiles fondly at the memory. ¡°You knew exactly what you were getting into.¡±


    ¡°I thought it was just about loansharking and card games and protection money and-¡±


    Heughs at me, his eyes shining with mirth. ¡°Come on, Adriana. I never lied to you about who I was.¡±


    I¡¯m trembling as I stare at him, knowing that he¡¯s right. I may have not wanted to confront it, but the evidence was there all along, hiding in in sight. Maria warned me so many times.


    ¡°I know you¡¯d be better off with someone else, but I¡¯m too selfish. I want you for myself.¡±


    Hands run up my sides and I hate the desire burning in my belly. Vince smiles as if he understands my dilemma, and I don¡¯t push him away when his facees closer and closer. Even now, I can¡¯t think of anything but how his lips feel over mine. His hot mouth dazzles me, and when his tongue deftly sweeps inside I shudder in his arms.


    ¡°I love you,¡± he whispers against my mouth.


    ¡°You don¡¯t love me.¡±


    Vince pulls backpletely. ¡°Oh yes, I do. Otherwise, I¡¯d have gotten rid of you when my boss asked me to.¡± His face hardens at the horror on my face. ¡°Yeah, he wanted you dead. You¡¯re not one of us. At least, not yet.¡±


    Oh my God. I thought of the man I met at the card game, his fatherly smile, all while trying to convince the man standing next to me to end my life. ¡°Why would he do that?¡±Belongs ? to N?velDrama.Org.


    A sick feeling burrows into my stomach. His arms snake around my body, pulling me tight against his chest as he sighs into my hair.


    ¡°Because he doesn¡¯t trust you. He¡¯s old school. Gets rid of anyone who isn¡¯t part of the family without a second thought.¡±


    So to them, I was disposable? I pull away, looking at his face, which is full of tenderness for me. I¡¯m hurt.


    ¡°It¡¯s nothing personal, Adriana. It¡¯s just the way it is. Anyway, I¡¯ll never let that happen. You¡¯re the most important thing in the world to me.¡±


    ¡°Why? Why am I so important?¡±


    ¡°I fell in love with you. I didn¡¯t expect that. Hell, I didn¡¯t even want to settle down before I met you. Something changed inside me. You changed me.¡±


    He says it while he gives me an unsettled look, as though the power I have over him upsets him.


    ¡°Why me?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re smart, talented, and you do what I want you to do.¡± He smiles as heat shes over my face. ¡°Go ahead and deny it, if you want.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not your fuckingpdog,¡± I say heatedly. ¡°I do what I want. Just because we both want the same thing doesn¡¯t mean I take your orders like some ve.¡±


    His smile grows wider. ¡°I know, baby.¡±


    I know he¡¯s just saying that to cate me, and it pisses me off.


    ¡°What I love the most about you is that I can be myself around you.¡±


    My heart gives another violent thud.


    ¡°How are you supposed to keep me safe when your boss wants me dead?¡±


    He smiles. ¡°Easy.¡±


    There¡¯s a faint rustling as he reaches inside his jacket and pulls out something. A small ck box.


    My heart stops.


    No, it can¡¯t be.


    It opens. Inside is a dazzling ring that seems to shine in the darkness. It¡¯s beautiful. My throat is thick with tears as he takes it from the box.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t want to do it like this. I wanted to wait for a better time, maybe around Christmas, but it couldn¡¯t wait any longer.¡± He makes a small frown. ¡°But I love you, Ade. Nothing changes that. If you¡¯re mine, no one will ever touch you again. You¡¯ll get the full protection of the family.¡±


    I¡¯m shaking my head, crying. ¡°No, it¡¯s too much. I can¡¯t-¡±


    ¡°You think I wanted it to be like this?¡±


    Pain momentarily fills his face and I feel a tiny sting of guilt.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have a choice. Be smart, Adriana.¡±


    He¡¯s right. I don¡¯t have a choice. He takes my hand, and I don¡¯t offer any resistance when he slips the ring on. I sob all over him, joy and misery swelling in my heart as I admire how beautiful it looks.


    I must have pictured this moment a thousand times in my head growing up. Never did I expect to be coerced into marriage. He never was supposed to have blood on his sleeves.


    No, I was never supposed to see the blood on his sleeves.


    It¡¯s madness.


    An anxious look furrows his eyebrows. ¡°Do you like it?¡±


    ¡°Oh, Vince. It¡¯s not about that.¡± I look at the ring. ¡°It is beautiful,¡± I murmur.


    A smile breaks over his face as he leans down, kissing me again. ¡°The first of many things, Adriana,¡± he says between kisses. ¡°You could have the whole world-just say it and it¡¯s yours. I want to do that for you. I want you to have everything you want.¡±


    He¡¯s saying all these perfect things that burrow deep inside my heart, despite my reluctance. I¡¯ve never known anyone to be so generous, and he really is generous. He gives without a second thought, without expecting anything in return.


    ¡°Why me?¡± I ask again.


    He sighs. ¡°Why not you?¡±


    I shrug, struggling with everything inside me. ¡°I¡¯m not much.¡±


    He shakes his head, disbelieving. ¡°You didn¡¯t hear the way the guys used to talk about you. I¡¯m just lucky that I got to you first. You¡¯re one of a kind, Adriana.¡± He kisses my ear before whispering, ¡°And now you¡¯re mine.¡±

 32

    A book sits on his stomach as he lounges in his chair. I sit nearby, pretending to watch TV. Every so often, his gaze flicks over his book to check on me.


    I know what he¡¯s doing. He sits there day after day, watching me, never letting me out of his sight no matter what. He¡¯s everywhere.


    His eyes follow me as I leave the living room. Even when he¡¯s not in sight, I can feel his presence. In desperation, I turn towards the door.


    Maybe if I just leave right now.


    If I¡¯m really quiet.


    Maybe.


    I don¡¯t even have shoes on, but I¡¯m grateful for that because I¡¯m much more silent on the floor. I reach out and grab the brass doorknob.


    A thick arm wraps around my waist, pulling me back into his chest. I scream, already on edge.


    ¡°Where do you think you¡¯re going?¡± He asks, nuzzling my ear.


    The scream bes a shuddering whimper. His lips find the sensitive area right under my ear. I shut my eyes, willing myself not to feel pleasure, not to enjoy it.


    But I do.


    I¡¯m powerless against the feelings he gives me. Just a graze of his fingers on my neck is enough to make me limp. I¡¯m pushed against the wall gently as his body covers mine. His hot mouth descends over mine.


    ¡°I asked you a question.¡±


    The hint of a smile in his voice makes me pause. I don¡¯t know if this is one of his games, or whether he¡¯s serious.


    ¡°I wanted to leave. Just for a little bit.¡±


    ¡°Where? I¡¯ll take you.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you trust me?¡± I ask, gazing into his warm eyes.


    He gives me a wry grin, tapping my shoulder with his finger. ¡°Ah, don¡¯t make me tie you up. You won¡¯t be able to handle how much I¡¯d enjoy that.¡±Belongs ? to N?velDrama.Org.


    Abandoning all pretenses, I shove his chest and walk back towards the living room. There¡¯s no escaping him. No way I can manipte or trick him.


    But my heart feels differently.


    ¡°This is your apartment, too. You can do whatever the fuck you want in here. You just can¡¯t leave without me. Not yet.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    He shoves his hands deep inside his pockets. ¡°The boss doesn¡¯t trust you. What you saw at Nicky¡¯s game-¡± he shakes his head.


    ¡°What about you? Do you trust me?¡± I edge up to him as he gazes down at me with a mixture of warmth and uncertainty.


    ¡°Not yet.¡± He says it apologetically.


    A tiny sting of hurt threatens tears. ¡°This rtionship will go nowhere unless there¡¯s trust. I hope you realize that,¡± I snap.


    His palm brushes my face and I see his resolve crumbling. Vince hates doing this to me. ¡°I hate seeing you so upset.¡±


    ¡°That makes two of us,¡± I say dully.


    It still doesn¡¯t change the fact that he¡¯s keeping me in here.


    Stalking to the kitchen, I reach up into the cupboards only to find that there are locks on the doors. Revolving on the spot, I re at Vincent who stands in front of me with his arms crossed.


    ¡°What the hell is this?¡±


    ¡°You drink too much. Desperate measures.¡±


    I turn back around and yank on the doors. If I don¡¯t have a drink, how am I supposed to sleep at night? How am I supposed to forget all the things I saw? I scream and pound them with my fists.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough!¡±


    He tries to take my shoulder, but I p his hand away and run to the bedroom. There are no locks in this ce. I can¡¯t even keep him out of the room.


    I want to seize themp on his nightstand and smash the window, but it¡¯s the quadruple-bullet-proof-paned type and it nces off like I just gave it a love tap.


    Vince grabs it before I can try again and twists it out of my grasp. All the humor is gone from his face.


    ¡°What the hell is wrong with you?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re trying to control me by keeping me in this fucking box!¡±


    ¡°No, I¡¯m not!¡± he yells. ¡°If you want to get out of this ce, let¡¯s go! We can do whatever you want!¡±


    ¡°Only if you allow it,¡± I spit. ¡°I can¡¯t even get a fucking drink without your approval now.¡±


    Glowering at me, he sets themp back down and takes my shoulders in his hands. ¡°If I let you drink whenever you wanted, you would drink yourself to death. That¡¯s what you¡¯re doing-drinking yourself to an early grave. I love you. I want to help you.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t have this fucking problem before!¡±


    But even I know that¡¯s a lie.


    ¡°Oh, really? Because I seem to remember you getting wasted after your first day working for me.¡±


    I let out a frustrated scream.


    His face softens. ¡°I¡¯m not judging you, Adriana. God knows, I would probably do the same if I were you. I am trying to do the right thing here.¡±


    ¡°Because that would be the first fucking time!¡±


    As soon as I¡¯ve said it, I know I¡¯ve crossed over some invisible line. Vince¡¯s eyes narrow as a dangerous smile spreads across his face.


    ¡°You have some fucking mouth on you. Sometimes it really pisses me off, but most of the time it makes me want to fuck your brains out.¡±


    He shoves me on the bed. Angrily, I sit up, but he shoves me back down.


    The awful sound of his belt slipping from his jeans fills my heart with dread, and at the same time my stomach leaps with excitement.


    I scramble away from him on the bed. ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Those aren¡¯t the magic words,¡± he grins.


    Grabbing my ankle, he yanks me closer to the edge of the bed and makes short work of my clothing. It¡¯s been so long since he¡¯s touched my skin that I can feel my core heating like a furnace just from his fingers sweeping over my skin. A delirious hunger consumes his body as he touches my breasts, fondling them as he kisses me so hard and long I feel like I might pass out. He kisses my stomach as he removes my panties and then he takes the belt, wrapping it around my throat. He pulls hard, tightening with his hand so that it¡¯s ufortably snug.

 33

    I¡¯m still angry with him, but now I¡¯m a little afraid, too. Maybe I pushed him too far. I keep pushing my luck with this man without even thinking about the consequences.


    But I know there won¡¯t be any. No matter how hard I push, I know that he¡¯ll never hurt me. Everything down to his controlling behavior, locking up the alcohol, is just to protect me.


    It still pisses me off.


    He pulls down his jeans and sits with his knees straddling me. Without meaning to, I reach out and touch him, feeling his hardness behind that thin membrane of cotton. He closes his eyes and sighs as I pull him through the hole in his briefs, and then he positions himself over my face, his hand still holding the belt.


    Vince lowers himself and I take him between my lips. The belt around my throat tightens as I suck around him, my tongue dancing underneath. His hips grind against my mouth as he pulses in my throat, making me gag, made even worse with the belt. He loves it.


    His groans echo through the bedroom, burrowing in my ears as he stuffs himself in my mouth. Finally, he removes himself and I gasp for air, but my oxygen is cut off when he pulls the belt again. The briefs fly off his legs as he moves down towards the ache between my legs. I hook them around his waist, heart hammering with anticipation.


    Both of us let out deep moans as he buries himself. I urge him on, digging my nails in his back as my legs tighten around him. He lets go of the belt for a moment to move my legs over his shoulders, and then I let out a painful gasp as he ruts me hard, going so much deeper than I could¡¯ve imagined.


    He pulls out and that amazing fullness disappears. Vince is back straddling my head, his cock aiming towards my face. I open my mouth and taste myself as he yanks the belt hard and stars burst in my vision.


    ¡°You look so beautiful with my cock in your mouth. Do you like tasting yourself?¡±


    Vince stops, his cock lodged in my throat as he waits for an answer. He pulls out and smacks my lips with his cock. ¡°Answer me.¡±N?velD(ram)a.?rg owns this content.


    ¡°Yes, I do.¡±


    The devil looks ecstatic at my humiliation. He buries himself back inside my mouth and his other hand nearly rips out my hairs when he curls his fist in my mane. He fucks my face, driving deeper and deeper, even though I gag.


    He pulls out finally and I get a brief moment to gasp for hair before he shifts down the bed and parts my legs. Then I¡¯m gasping again as he plows into my slick entrance, pounding ruthlessly hard and making me w his shoulders. Vince¡¯s body moves over mine with a desperate urgency, even his breathing is harried as he lowers his body over mine.


    I grasp his head, twining my fingers through his damp hair as he groans in my ear, almost as if he¡¯s in pain. Usually, when he fucks me, it¡¯s to satisfy the beast inside him, to maximize the pleasure. This is entirely different. He¡¯spletely lost himself.


    ¡°Vince.¡±


    He makes a rough sound and his hips drive into me again, my walls tightening over him. I dig my fingers in his scalp and he pounds me harder, his tempo increasing. My teeth grind together as I feel myself teetering over the edge and he lunges forward and keeps him there, letting out an almighty groan. Then I cry out his name. It rips from my throat as my orgasm shakes my body.


    He copses over me, breathing hard as I run my hands up and down his bare back. It feels so good. He always makes me feel so good.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I gasp, my throat thick with tears. ¡°I¡¯m just having a hard time with everything.¡±


    He kisses my neck in response. ¡°I know, baby. It won¡¯t be like this for long. I promise.¡±


    ¡°Where are we going?¡±


    It¡¯s a secret. I hate secrets.


    Vince smiles, staring straight ahead as he drives. He gives me a quick jerk of his head. ¡°You¡¯ll see. Just be patient.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not patient.¡±


    I don¡¯t do well with surprises. Thetest one was Mom threatening to show up at my dorm when I told her she needed to cancel the credit card or I would call the police. With no job, I can¡¯t afford to help her anymore.


    ¡°What do you mean, you quit?¡±


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t bnce school and work, so I quit my job.¡±


    I thought-I hoped that she would understand.


    ¡°You can¡¯t quit! You need to get your job back.¡±


    Her voice lifted with hysteria the more I argued that I couldn¡¯t do it.


    If I told her the truth about what happened, I doubt she would care. By the end of the phone call, she was sobbing uncontrobly.


    ¡°That¡¯s it. I¡¯m done for. You¡¯ve signed my death warrant!¡±


    It was overly dramatic, even for her. It was weeks since I talked to her. She even sent back her Christmas gift.


    Being ignored is an improvement over constant harassment, but it still bothers me. All I have to do is look at Vince and his mother, and know that I¡¯ll never have that kind of rtionship with my own.


    Is it right for her to suffer for my dad¡¯s debts? A nagging voice tells me that I¡¯m a bad daughter, but I¡¯m suspicious of her. Where¡¯s the proof that she¡¯s actually paying off her debts?


    My nose freezes with the cold as I step over the street sprinkled with snow, my hands bundled in my wool coat. Vince walks next to me, his breath billowing in white puffs. His face is rosy with color. A gloved hand seeks mine inside my sleeve and holds tightly. He frowns at my glove-less hand.


    ¡°Ade, it¡¯s really cold out,¡± he says reproachfully.


    ¡°I know.¡± My engagement ring shines in thete afternoon sunshine. ¡°I don¡¯t like wearing gloves with the ring on, anyway.¡±


    A swirl of unresolved feelings churn inside me as I stare at it. I never chose to ept his proposal. It was something I had to do to save my own skin.


    That would bother anyone.


    But thesest few months have been happy. I can do whatever I want now. Go to and from the apartment without an escort. I have everything I want, really.


    He massages my hand and a smile hitches on his face as we turn towards a restaurant that I¡¯ve never been to before. The door opens for me and Vince gives me a wicked grin as I step inside.


    ¡°Surprise!¡±


    A chorus of yells greet me as at least a dozen people stand up from a very long table, looking directly at me. Everyone in Vince¡¯s crew is there, along with Gio and his wife, Vince¡¯s mom, and even Maria and Jackie, who look excited to see me. An unpleasant feeling clenches my guts. I¡¯m not particrly pleased to see the boss of the family there, considering only months ago he wanted me dead.


    Strong hands take my shoulders and I spin around at Vince.


    ¡°What is this?¡±

 34

    Heughs, bending down to give me a quick kiss. ¡°Your engagement party.¡±


    A flood of happiness rushes to my face and my lip trembles. No one¡¯s ever done anything like this for me.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe you got Maria toe, too. How did you do this without me knowing? How did you even get her number?¡±


    He just smiles, rubbing my back as my arms wrap around his waist in thanks.


    His mouth bends to my ear. ¡°I was going to invite your mother, but I wasn¡¯t sure if you wanted her there.¡±


    Speechless, I try not to smudge my makeup as I wipe away tears. I can¡¯t say anything, but Vince smiles like he understands.


    ¡°Adriana!¡±


    Maria runs up to me and I fling my arms around her neck.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe you¡¯re here.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± She squeezes back. ¡°I¡¯m happy for you.¡±


    I blink. ¡°Really?¡±


    She rolls her eyes. ¡°Yeah, I know I gave you a hard time about him,¡± she says, ncing at him nervously. ¡°But he¡¯s good to you.¡±


    Vince beams at her. ¡°I figured if I convinced your best friend that I was a catch, half the battle would be won already.¡± He winks at me and a blush creeps over my cheeks.


    Jackie hovers near his cousin¡¯s elbow and gives me a shy smile. ¡°Congrats, Ade.¡±


    ¡°Thanks foring.¡±


    As I look at him, I remember that it was all down to him that we met. If he never brought me to that card game, I would have never met Vince or been involved in New York¡¯s seedy underworld.


    It¡¯s crazy.


    With Vince by my side, I walk down the table and thank each person foring. My lips spasm as I nce over Gio.


    I don¡¯t like him, and I doubt I ever will.


    ¡°I¡¯m so happy that you came, Mr. Vittorio.¡±N?velD(ram)a.?rg owns this content.


    The old man gives me a shadow of a wink and a smirk as I shake his hand.


    ¡°Never thought I¡¯d see the day, Vinny,¡± he says with a bemused smile.


    Mrs. Vittorio jabs her husband in the arm and looks at me with a sweet smile. ¡°I¡¯m so happy for you, Adriana.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± I feel like I¡¯ll be repeating that phrase over and over today.


    ¡°Is your mother here yet?¡± She nces down the table and doesn¡¯t see my reaction.


    It¡¯s an innocent question, but it¡¯s like hammering a rusty nail through my heart. Beside me, I see Vince¡¯s face tense up.


    ¡°No, she¡¯s noting,¡± I say in a low voice. ¡°Vince is really the only family I¡¯ve got anymore.¡±


    Her face falls like a Greek mask, her perfectly ironed curls trembling as she shakes her head. ¡°We¡¯ll be your family. God forbid, if something happens to Vince you¡¯ll be taken care of.¡±


    The thought of Vincent actually being killed never crossed my mind, but it does now. Jesus Christ. What if something does happen to him? What will happen to me?


    All it takes is one look at Gio, who nods in agreement with his wife. There will be no one standing in his way if he decides I¡¯m not trustworthy.


    Then it¡¯s lights out.


    I grin painfully and move along the table, greeting Gio¡¯s other captains whom I¡¯ve never met, and some more of Vincent¡¯s family-his mother, his cousins, aunts, and uncles. It¡¯s overwhelming to have all these strangers wishing me their heartfelt congrattions with Vince at my side, squeezing my hand asionally. Finally, I reach Maria and Jackie.


    ¡°We can¡¯t stay for too long because it¡¯s my mother¡¯s birthday,¡± Maria tells me.


    I copse into a seat opposite her as Vincent moves towards his mother, who is ecstatic.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe this is happening,¡± I murmur.


    I don¡¯t know whether it¡¯s from too many sleepless nights or a creeping fear crawling in my gut, because none of this seems real.


    ¡°You look pale. Are you okay?¡±


    I¡¯m just scared shitless of Vince¡¯s boss, that¡¯s all.


    Forcing a smile on my face, I nod to Maria. ¡°Just not used to all this attention.¡±


    ¡°Better get used to it,¡± she grins. ¡°Wait till your wedding. It¡¯ll be a spectacle.¡±


    Wedding. My throat closes as if I¡¯ve just inhaled poison. It¡¯s such a foreign word to me. When Vincentes back to sit across from me, he looks so incredibly happy to see me sitting across from him that I can¡¯t help but feel lighter. Maria¡¯s attitude towards him seems to have taken aplete 180-degree turn, and she even gives us wistful looks.


    After a half hour, she leaves with Jackie and I¡¯m sorry to see them go. They¡¯re the only ones I know in this restaurant. I don¡¯t talk much. I concentrate on my food. Only water sits in front of me. I suspect Vincent warned the waiters about serving me alcohol. My fists clench under the table as the possibility enters my head.¡±You okay?¡±


    His gentle voice snaps me out of my thoughts.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I look up at him, smiling. ¡°I just don¡¯t know any of these people. I can¡¯t believe they all came for us.¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± says Mrs. Cesare. ¡°We¡¯re your family now.¡±


    I give her a smile and my eyes turn back to the tablecloth, lost in thought.


    Most of the restaurant is deserted, but Vincent¡¯s eyes routinely scan the area behind me. I¡¯m used to it by now, but it¡¯s still unnerving. His eyes widen and I look behind me in rm, seeing shadowy forms moving behind the ss. There are at least half a dozen of them, all lined up against the ss.


    An electrical, hot feeling sears through my veins. It¡¯s like liquid fear. Instant and intense. My subconscious knows something that I don¡¯t. Without questioning it, I dive under the table, knocking my head hard.


    ss shatters and I duck, grabbing Mrs. Cesare as deafening shots st through the windows. sses and dishes explode and shrieks stab my ears, but nothing is louder than the explosive gunfire pinning everyone to the ground.


    A scream tears from my throat as the table topples over to its side and a vice grip closes over my arm and drags me behind him. I grab Mrs. Cesare¡¯s arm and pull hard, but the woman is immobile. Tears stream down her face as she screams over and over for her son. Vince shields me with his body as he tears the gun from his ankle and swings over the table.


    BAM, BAM, BAM.

 35

    The shots sting from Vincent¡¯s gun are so loud that I can feel them in my chest. He fires back towards the shing muzzles and ducks as they return fire. I¡¯m ttened on the ground.


    This is it. I¡¯m going to die. There are already screams of pain. Vince grabs his mother and my arm. I stumble over a body. He keeps my head low, covering my body with his. ster explodes around us and I get a brief glimpse of the people still huddled around the table. Bodies everywhere.


    Vince¡¯s face is tense, but determined. Mrs. Cesare bolts into the kitchen, hiding behind a stove. He shoves me behind the doorway as he leans around the doorway, swearing at the top of his lungs as he fires at them.


    He¡¯s going to get shot.


    He¡¯s going to get shot.


    I¡¯m just waiting for a bullet to zip into his skull when he leans, exposing himself to the gunmen. Another ck body sprints into the kitchen and I scream, but it¡¯s only Nicky, who takes the other side of the doorway.


    ¡°Ben and Tony are dead,¡± he yells.


    Two captains. Dead.


    ¡°Fuck,¡± says Vince. ¡°Where¡¯s Jack?¡±


    My body flinches with every gunshot. Somehow, I still have my purse and I clutch the bear mace inside and hold it in my hands.


    ¡°He¡¯s a fucking sitting duck!¡±


    In silent awe, I watch as both of them fire around the corner. A peppering of gunfire smashes into the wall they¡¯re hiding behind. Vince ttens his back against the wall and grits his teeth.This text is ? N?velDrama/.Org.


    ¡°Jesus Christ.¡±


    And then there¡¯s a sound that jump-starts my heart.


    Sirens.


    The wailing sound grows louder, but Vince and Nicky don¡¯t look happy, even when the gunfire stops and we hear the screech of tires.


    ¡°No, don¡¯t!¡±


    I finally find my voice as Vince peeks around the corner, his face white when he turns back.


    ¡°Nicky, get rid of your gun.¡±


    Both of them toss their guns. Luckily the wait staff and cooks fled out the back door. The mace still trembles in my hands when Vince turns to his mother.


    ¡°Ma! It¡¯s okay, they¡¯re gone.¡±


    But she¡¯s screaming and inconsble, still refusing to budge from the stove. I can¡¯t me her.


    No longer gentle, he grabs her arm and drags her across the kitchen towards me.


    ¡°Adriana, we need to leave now.¡± Impatient, he grabs my arm and I drop the mace as we walk back into the restaurant.


    It¡¯s a bloodbath.


    We round the corner as cop cars m their brakes in front of the restaurant; the only sounds are Vincent¡¯s mother, still screaming her head off, the quiet whimpering of the wounded and great, wracking sobs. Another woman¡¯s screaming makes my head snap to the right where the table is. A woman and her husbandy dead on the floor, one of Gio¡¯s captains and his wife. Another man I recognize as Ben is dead. Vince rushes past me as he sees Jack propped up against the table in a pool of blood.


    Mrs. Cesare seizes my hands. ¡°Oh my God! Jesus, Mary, and Joesph!¡±


    Vomit swiftly rises in my throat and I have to bend down with my head between my knees to stop myself from throwing up. My hands block out the sight of the carnage. I can¡¯t look anymore. I don¡¯t want to see their broken bodies and the fragments of flesh littering the floor like raw meat.


    ¡°POLICE! PUT YOUR FUCKING HANDS UP!¡±


    Navy-blue bodies dart inside the restaurant, sweeping through the back and around the kitchen.


    ¡°We need some help here!¡±


    Horrible, wheezing sounds filter through my hair as Vince¡¯s boss struggles to breathe. A heavy handnds on my shoulder and I scream.


    ¡°Ma¡¯am, it¡¯s all right. I need you to follow me outside.¡±


    I look up into the face of a weathered cop and I take his proffered hand. I look to my right and see Vince looking stricken as EMTs lift his boss¡¯ body onto a stretcher. My heart jumps when I realize he¡¯s taking me out of the shattered front door.


    ¡°No, I¡¯m not going out,¡± I mutter.


    His voice sounds weary, like he¡¯s dealt with too many hysterical women. ¡°Ma¡¯am, we need to secure the area.¡±


    They¡¯ll kill us all.


    ¡°No!¡± My voice rises into a scream. ¡°I¡¯m not going outside! They¡¯ll kill us.¡±


    ¡°I need you to-¡±


    I rip my arm out of his grasp and shove his chest. ¡°Get off me!¡±


    ¡°Calm down!¡± He touches his hip, where his Taser is attached to his hip.


    ¡°FUCK YOU!¡± I scream at the top of my lungs. ¡°I¡¯M NOT GOING OUT THAT DOOR!¡±


    Suddenly, I¡¯m pulled into someone¡¯s broad chest and initially I resist, but then I recognize his voice and I sag into his arms, breathing in the scent of his cologne.


    ¡°I apologize, officer. My fiance is just shell-shocked.¡±


    ¡°She should see a doctor,¡± he says in a grim voice. ¡°Her too,¡± he adds, gesturing to Mrs. Cesare.


    He stalks off and Vince kisses my ear before he whispers in a shaky voice, ¡°We need to get out of here before these idiots recognize me.¡±


    Pulling me gently, we walk back into the kitchen where there are less cops. I grab Mrs. Cesare¡¯s hand and lead her back into the kitchen.


    ¡°Vincent, what is going on?¡± she screams.


    He ignores her. ¡°She needs to see a doctor!¡± Vince voice bellows.


    They let him go out the back door after taking his information, and my whole body tenses as I feel the cold air biting my skin. The coats were left behind.


    Mrs. Cesare¡¯s fingernails bite into my hands.


    I¡¯m safe.


    No fucking way am I safe.


    He leads me to the car and opens the door, waiting for me to get inside. His face cracks with impatience as I consider sprinting away from him in the opposite direction.


    ¡°I-I¡¯ll go to my dorms.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± he snaps.


    ¡°Please let me go.¡±


    With a furious expression on his face, he grabs my shoulders and forces me to stand near the passenger side.


    ¡°Get in.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I say in a weak voice, knees trembling.


    ¡°I¡¯m not fucking around, Adriana.¡±


    The rudeness seems to snap Mrs. Cesare out of her shocked state. ¡°Vincent, that¡¯s no way to talk to your fiance.¡±


    ¡°Ma, shut the fuck up and get inside!¡±


    There¡¯s no winning against that voice. For a moment, Mrs. Cesare looks apoplectic with rage, but I grab her hand and usher her inside the car. I slide inside after her and flinch as he ms the door. When he slides into the car, the look he gives me makes me want to run and hide.


    ¡°Ma, I¡¯ll take you home.¡±


    She sobs into a handkerchief. ¡°Two of my sister¡¯s kids were hurt. We need to go back there!¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he bellows. ¡°I don¡¯t need the cops to know I was there.¡±


    I gasp. ¡°What about the gun you left behind?¡±


    He shakes his head. ¡°It¡¯s untraceable. No serial number.¡± He guns the engine and we peel out of the street. ¡°I¡¯ll take you home, and then we can make arrangements to see them in the hospital.¡±


    ¡°Who would do such a thing?¡±


    I look at her gulping, white face, feeling more disturbed as she breaths in shallowly.


    ¡°Mrs. Cesare, you need to calm down.¡± I seize her hand and squeeze.


    ¡°I¡¯ll fucking kill them all!¡± he suddenly screams.


    ¡°Vince!¡± I nce at him, and what I see scares me. He¡¯s the embodiment of rage. His face turns to me as if he¡¯s ready to say something nasty to me, and I quickly look away.


    It takes a half hour to calm Mrs. Cesare enough for her to enter her apartment, and by then Vincent¡¯s temper runs high.


    My body ms into the car seat as he throttles the engine. ¡°Ow!¡±


    His neck twists sharply as he looks at me and his eyes lighten for the first time. ¡°Sorry.¡±


    The pain in his voice makes me remember mine. I almost died tonight-again. Getting shot at is something I¡¯m not supposed to get used to, but even Vince looks panicky. Maybe the death of two captains and the attempt on his boss¡¯ life convinced him that he isn¡¯t invincible.


    The pressure in my head explodes as we drive closer and closer to Manhattan. ¡°What if they¡¯re there, waiting for us?¡±


    ¡°They won¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°But-¡±


    ¡°Jesus Christ, Adriana!¡± He pummels the steering wheel as we get stuck into traffic. ¡°Fuck!¡±


    Calm and collected Vincent is gone. It scares me the way he scans the parking lot when he parks, his unflinching confidence gone. We somehow manage to reach his apartment and when the door closes behind it, Vince makes sure to lock everything. After a quick sweep of the apartment, he takes me in his arms in a bruising embrace.


    Maybe he needs to beforted, too.


    But nothingforts me. Nothing can take away the pounding sense of dread I feel, standing so close to the windows. Bodies sh in front of my eyes.


    ¡°They¡¯re picking us all off. They want to kill the leadership of our family.¡±


    ¡°Who?¡±


    ¡°The Rizzos.¡±


    I exhale a long moan. ¡°Why would they want to do that?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯splicated.¡±


    Unwinding my arms from him, I beseech him with my eyes. ¡°If Maria stayed, she probably would have been killed. Do you realize what that means to me?¡±


    He slumps against the wall. ¡°You think I¡¯m okay with what just happened? Two capos dead. Jack got shot and I have no idea if he¡¯ll survive.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re going to get killed. They¡¯ve already got a third of you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to get killed. It didn¡¯t work.¡±


    ¡°So they¡¯ll try again!¡±


    Vince¡¯s phone vibrates and he immediately answers. ¡°How is he?¡±


    I watch his shoulders slump and his eyes close. ¡°For how long? Okay. I¡¯ll meet youter. Thanks, bye.¡± His eyes ze over as he hangs up the phone and his whole body tenses. ¡°Two of my cousins are dead. They¡¯re starting surgery on Jack now.¡±


    A shock goes through me as I recall the two bodies copsed on the floor. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    He clutches the phone over his chest, his eyes staring out at me. He looks lost.

 36

    Shoeless, I wander the apartment in circles, debating whether I should sneak outside while he¡¯s asleep. He came in earlyst night. I know better than to ask what he was doing, but he copsed into bed with his clothes on and has slept through the morning.


    It¡¯s noon. I¡¯ve a ss at 1:30.


    Chewing my lip, I debate whether it¡¯s worth the risk to go. My grades are in the toilet because I¡¯ve missed so many sses. I¡¯ve been dying to get out of the apartment, and Maria¡¯s frantic phone calls tells me that she found out about the shooting.


    I know that he¡¯ll freak out if I leave.


    I¡¯ve read all the articles online about what happened: Deadly mob shooting ims four lives at Greenwich Vige restaurant, Vittorio ughter at notorious mobster hangout, Vittorio-Rizzo war far from over as deadly shooting takes four.N?velD(ram)a.?rg owns this content.


    Somehow, they make me feel more removed from the whole thing. Like I didn¡¯t juste back from a chain of funerals. I remember the envelopes stuffed with cash that Vincent slipped into the widows¡¯ hands. Such a strange custom.


    All in all it was a depressing week. I don¡¯t want to waste a second of my life, and I¡¯m tired of being cooped up in this apartment.


    Gazing at Vince¡¯s sleeping body, I scribble down a note and grab my backpack, slipping on my shoes at thest second. My heart pounds as I reach the doorknob and twist. I don¡¯t feel safe when I¡¯m in the elevator going down, even as I sprint across the street into the subway.


    Still, a heavy weight lifts from my shoulders as I sigh into a stic seat. I¡¯m finally free. For now. I know that what I¡¯m doing is stupid and that there are people who want Vince dead, but I can¡¯t sit in Vince¡¯s apartment with all of the shit that happened ying over and over in my brain.


    I stride across the campus, feeling lighter than I have in weeks as I walk among fellow students, who walk briskly through the cold air. My teeth chatter and my nose runs, but I¡¯m happy to be out of that ce.


    My strides are faster when I see my dorm. There are a few things I forgot that are still there, and I can catch up with Maria.


    ¡°Excuse me, Ms. Baldino?¡±


    I look around and see two men in trench coats, which hang open to reveal their suits. The man who spoke to me has a receding hairline and wears a severe frown. My breath hitches in my throat.


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    He pulls out his badge and my heart sinks. FBI.


    Oh, fuck.


    ¡°Special Agent Eric Palmer, FBI. We¡¯d like you toe in for questioning.¡±


    * * *


    I¡¯m in deep shit.


    That¡¯s all I can think of as I sit in a dark office surrounded by at least six men who wear somber expressions as if my mother died.


    You can¡¯t say anything.


    ¡°Ms. Baldino, we know you¡¯ve been involved with Mr. Cesare and we know you were at La Cia weeks ago during the shooting.¡±


    My head snaps towards the balding man who osted me at Columbia. I don¡¯t say a word as he stares at me. I look back unblinkingly until my eyes start to water.


    ¡°So?¡± I say aggressively. ¡°Am I under arrest?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he says in an even voice. ¡°But it¡¯s in your best interest to hear what we have to say.¡±


    I don¡¯t think so.


    ¡°You were almost killed, and we know that it wasn¡¯t the first time your life has been in danger.¡±


    The blood drains from my face as I clutch the wooden table, staring at their faces. Are they bluffing?


    ¡°Months ago someone robbed one of Nicky Santoro¡¯s card games, didn¡¯t they? Illegal gambling conducted as a business is a federal crime, and we know there was a mishap. People were killed.¡±


    How do they know all this shit?


    My insides churn with piping hot fear, but I keep the lid mped down. I will not break. I will not talk. My lips stay firmly sealed and my hands slide under the table.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you?¡±


    Agent Palmer gives me a shit-eating grin as he looks at my nched face.


    ¡°Face it, Adriana. It¡¯s only a matter of time before you get caught in the crossfire of this war between the Vittorios and the Rizzos. We¡¯re not asking you to testify or wear a wire. We just want information. In exchange, you¡¯ll enter the Witness Protection Program. Or you can keep lying to yourself about what kind of man your fiance is.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± I repeat, a little more harshly.


    Agent Palmer nces at the others before giving me a frustrated look. ¡°Do you realize you¡¯re engaged to a man whose family is responsible for your father¡¯s death?¡±


    Wait, what?


    My heart stalls as I look into Agent Palmer¡¯s steady gaze. ¡°What are you talking about? My father was killed by-¡±


    ¡°The Vittorios. Why do you think the police never followed up on the case? They knew what happened, they just didn¡¯t know who exactly was responsible.¡±


    No, it¡¯s impossible. Mom would have told me.


    ¡°I don¡¯t believe you. You¡¯re lying.¡±


    ¡°You just don¡¯t want to believe. Your dad borrowed a lot of money from the family, Adriana. He got involved with the wrong people, and they went to your house to collect. They were going to ransack the ce, but something went wrong.¡±


    It makes so much sense that I want to vomit.


    ¡°No, that¡¯s wrong. That¡¯s not what happened!¡±


    It¡¯s not right. It can¡¯t be. They¡¯re just trying to trick me.


    ¡°Yes, it is,¡± he says in a deadpan voice. ¡°They killed your father.¡±

 37

    It can¡¯t be true. I don¡¯t believe it.


    I¡¯m stuck in a fog as they drop me back on campus, just in time to make my 1:30pm ss. My phone buzzes like a hive of angry bees, but I ignore it. I walk away from campus, intent on getting the truth. The elusive fucking truth.


    It exins everything-why my mom was always so paranoid and why she needed all those payments to pay off loan sharks harassing her. Then why didn¡¯t I ever see them?


    Heading downstairs, I jump for the first train towards Brooklyn. It¡¯ll be a long while until I get there. Plenty of time to think. The Feds gave me a card, which I hold in my fingers. They implored me to call if I changed my mind.


    Amazed, I watch as people enter and leave the subway car without a care in the world. They have no idea what¡¯s going on around them.


    I feel like I¡¯m being watched.


    The paranoia swells inside me again. My neck cricks as I nce around, my chest tightening. I twist the ring around my finger ceaselessly. My eyes follow every person who boards the subway. Could they be one of Vincent¡¯s? Following me?


    What if they saw me being picked up by the FBI?


    My body sways on the seat at the thought of what that would look like to Gio Vittorio, and then I¡¯m fervently d that he¡¯s currently in the hospital.


    The journey to Brooklyn is entirely too quick. I mber up the steps on tired legs, my eyes seeking out my mother¡¯s brownstone, which is only a few blocks away. My heart beats with a mounting sense of dread as I approach the house.


    Please let it not be true.


    My fist hammers on the door and I gasp when the door opens immediately, as if she was waiting for someone. My mother is dressed in normal clothes, for once. A faint tinge of color on her lips tells me that she even used lipstick.


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s you,¡± she says in a disappointed tone. ¡°If you¡¯re not going to help me, just go away.¡±


    ¡°We need to talk.¡±


    She closes the door, but I elbow my way in.


    ¡°Adriana, how dare you?¡±


    ¡°Mom, we need to talk!¡±


    The edge in my voice makes her walk backwards into the shitty house. She closes the door behind me and that familiar sense of skin-crawling fear descends on me.


    ¡°Mom, who really killed Dad?¡±


    Mom¡¯s eyes widen and she absentmindedly picks at a spot on her face. ¡°What are you talking about?¡±


    ¡°Did he get mixed up with the wrong people?¡±


    Her mouth trembles as she ignores my question, walking into the living room to pick up a lighter on the coffee table. Her tortured face lights up periodically in the me¡¯s light.


    ¡°We owed them a lot of money. Sal should have never done it, he shouldn¡¯t have taken money from those animals.¡±


    Her voice drops, sounding more raw than I¡¯ve heard it in years.


    I¡¯m too stunned to move a muscle. ¡°I thought you said he gambled it away!¡±


    The cigarette glows a bright red. ¡°What was I supposed to tell you? He did like to gamble, but your dad took money from a loan shark to start his auto shop business. Well, it was a failure. Your daddy didn¡¯t know how to manage a business.¡±


    The smoke rises from the cigarette in azy spiral.


    ¡°Then they wanted their money back,¡± she inhales suddenly. It¡¯s a sharp, painful sound. ¡°He kept failing to make payments, so they c-came and they took him by the throat.¡±


    And then I came out of the bedroom and startled them. Yeah, I remember that part.


    ¡°They weren¡¯t supposed to kill him.¡±


    I can¡¯t fucking believe this.


    ¡°Who is they?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know who they are, Adriana.¡± Her eyes look cagey as she avoids everywhere but me. ¡°I wanted to keep you out of it to protect you.¡±


    ¡°That ended the moment you took a loan in my name.¡± My voice rises in pitch. ¡°Was it the Vittorios?¡±


    The living room is a murky sea, blotched out by my tears. A peach colored blob moves in front of me. Then I blink and Mom sharpens into focus. Her heavily wrinkled lips press into a firm line.


    ¡°I won¡¯t tell you.¡±


    ¡°You have to!¡±


    ¡°For over ten years I¡¯ve kept their secret. Do you have any idea what they¡¯ll do to me if you go to the police?¡±


    Oh my God.


    It is them. Vince must have known, and he let me cry in his arms all those times I talked about my father and never said a word.


    I feel sick.


    ¡°How could you lie to me for all those years? All this time you knew who killed him, and you never bothered to tell me.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t want you to grow up with all of that on your shoulders.¡±


    ¡°I did! All these years I worked for you like a ve, giving you everyst penny to keep you from crying on my shoulder or calling me names, and never, ever giving myself a reward for working so hard.¡±


    She cries as she reaches for me, tears slipping down in fat drops. ¡°Adriana, please. You¡¯re my baby. Don¡¯t go.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not my mother. You¡¯re nothing.¡±


    I spin around before she can plead and worm her way inside my heart again and burst through the door. My sneakers take me down the streets and I run past the subway station, not knowing where the hell I should go. The Brooklyn Bridge rises in the distance, shining in the sun like a beacon, so I walk towards it.


    Where else can I go?


    My phone rings incessantly, and I contemte throwing it through the bars of the bridge. The wind howls over the bridge, chilling me to the bone as I walk past hordes of tourists bundled up in clothes. I¡¯m not really dressed to be outside and my backpack¡¯s shoulder straps dig into my flesh. The weight of all the books drag me down. Every so often, I stop to lean on the wooden rails etched with so many love notes and I stare down at the cars quietly rumbling underneath the bridge.


    Tears are blown off my face in the wind and I try to remember thest time I felt so badly. Everything is so fucked up. It¡¯s all gone. Dead.


    When I descend the bridge, I find the nearest subway and enter its warm belly. I take it to Midtown and walk around Rockefeller za, and then I go inside Bouchon. I¡¯ve always salivated at the pastries inside that I could never afford. I order nearly forty dors in pastries: huge, golden macarons, almond croissants, little cakes and tarts. The cashier stares at me as she takes my order. If I could reach through the ss to steal food, I would.


    Sitting outside on the wooden table, I dip my hand inside the bag and grab one of the macarons. They¡¯re impossibly soft and airy. The sweet almond vor explodes over my tongue, the strawberry jam in the middle of the cookie sweetening my mouth.


    I fish my phone out of my bag and feel a stir of disgust as I look at the screen. Six missed calls and voicemails from Vince. My mouth turns sweet into sour as everything I¡¯ve learned floats to the surface again. The man I¡¯m engaged to is one of them. He was always one of them. They destroy lives without second thought, and I¡¯m one of their casualties.


    The sun dips below the high rise buildings as I watch happy tourists snapping photos, skating on the ice rink below as I try to suppress my shivering. Cold and alone. There¡¯s nowhere to go. Nowhere except right back to the man I¡¯m trying to run from.


    So I don¡¯t move when a man slides into the bench opposite me and grabs my wrists. Vincent¡¯s fingers wrap around me like handcuffs, biting my flesh. I look up into his handsome face filled with deadly calm.


    ¡°Don¡¯t make a scene,¡± he says. ¡°Don¡¯t scream.¡±


    I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m more repulsed by: him or my still present feelings of attraction.


    ¡°You¡¯reing with me now.¡±


    He transfers his hold to my upper arm but I remain rooted to the spot.


    I hate him.


    He res at me. ¡°You¡¯reing with me now before I get fucking shot standing out here in the open.¡±


    Miserably, I stand up with the bag of pastries around my wrist, Vincent leading me out of the square like I¡¯m a hostage, and I suppose I am one. He walks quickly across the streets, almost dragging me in his haste to get into his car and drive the fuck out of there.


    ¡°Do you even realize how fucking worried I was?¡± he snaps, his fingers digging into my arm as he leads me towards his car. ¡°You take off to your university and when I show up there, you¡¯re nowhere to be found, and then you don¡¯t answer your goddamn phone!¡±


    Vincent continues his tirade after he shoves me in the car, when he slides into the driver¡¯s seat.


    ¡°You¡¯re my fiancee!¡± he bellows. ¡°I expect you to answer your phone.¡±


    The tires screech on the garage as Vince peels out of there. I sit still in the car seat and feel close to tears as we drive back to his apartment.


    ¡°Where the fuck were you, Adriana? Hey, I¡¯m talking to you.¡±


    I swallow a lump in my throat as he screams in my ear. What the hell am I supposed to say? The moment I tell him I was talking to federal agents, he¡¯ll kill me.


    It¡¯s not like I have anything to live for.


    Vincent¡¯s face, ck with rage, looks at me like he wants to wrap his long fingers around my throat and squeeze. He parks the car and gets out. I cringe as he walks around and yanks me by my elbow. I fall against his chest and flinch at the violence burning in his eyes.


    ¡°You are really pushing me, Adriana. When we get upstairs, I expect answers, or we¡¯re going to have a fucking problem.¡±


    I burst into tears once we enter the elevator, unable to stop myself any longer. Eyebrows raised, he leans against the wall and burns holes into my skin with his stare. I turn away from him and try to silence my sobs with my hand. I hate being out of control, unraveling in front of him. My shoulders shake and then he whispers a curse. His arms wrap around me and his lips find my head.


    ¡°What the hell is wrong with you?¡±


    ¡°Did you know?¡±


    ¡°Did I know what?¡±


    His puzzled face frowns at me.


    I push him away from me roughly. ¡°That your piece of shit family killed my Dad!¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± he says through his teeth.


    ¡°All this time, they were one of you. One of you bastards killed him and ruined my life.¡±


    He grabs my shoulder, no longer gentle. ¡°I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about. Shut the fuck up until we get inside.¡±


    I stumble out the elevator as he drags me down the hall, terror electrifying my skin with painful pulses of my heart. He shoves me inside and ms the door behind them.


    ¡°Where the fuck do you get off on using us of that?¡±


    ¡°I know they were responsible.¡± I want to hit him for denying it. ¡°You knew all along and never said anything to me.¡±


    He gives me a look like I¡¯m deranged. ¡°You¡¯re talking crazy. How the hell would I know about a hit that happened thirteen years ago?¡±


    I step backwards from the force of his words. Fine, he didn¡¯t know about it, but that doesn¡¯t change the fact that they were responsible.


    ¡°How do you know this, anyway? Where the fuck were you?¡±


    There¡¯s a dangerous glint in his eyes as he hangs up his coat in the closet. I keep mine bundled around me, as if it can protect me from him.


    He¡¯ll kill me.


    ¡°I heard it from the FBI!¡± I finally shout.This text is ? N?velDrama/.Org.


    He freezes, his face white with panic as he turns towards me. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I-I left the house to go to school, but two federal agents picked me up. They knew about the card games. They knew we were at that restaurant. They offered me protection-¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he bellows like a wounded animal and grabs me by my cor. His face is white, shaking. ¡°Tell me you didn¡¯t, Adriana. Tell me you didn¡¯t say anything!¡±

 38

    Hating him, I twist my face. ¡°I didn¡¯t say anything, but I should have. I hate all of you. They told me the truth about my dad. Then I went to see my mom. She told me everything.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re fucking lying, Adriana! You can¡¯t trust anything they tell you. They just want you to give up information!¡±Belongs ? to N?velDrama.Org.


    ¡°Oh, and I¡¯m supposed to trust you?¡±


    He releases me roughly, looking wounded. ¡°I have no idea who killed your dad, all right? Jack would have told me if he knew anything. That¡¯s why I think they¡¯re lying to you.¡±


    ¡°My mom confirmed it,¡± I scream.


    ¡°That phiaca,¡± he snarls, waving his hand dismissively. ¡°She¡¯s a crazy bitch who stole from you. How the fuck can you trust anything she says?¡±


    I stop in my tracks, ring at him as white-hot anger shakes my chest. He just called my mother a cunt. He¡¯s never criticized my mother in front of me, although his eyes would sh whenever I mentioned her. It¡¯s way over the line. Even now, he looks remorseful.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare-¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry-¡±


    ¡°-insult my mother. Ever.¡±


    I may scream andin about her, but that doesn¡¯t give him the right to insult her. Confusion riles my stomach. I don¡¯t know who to believe anymore. My whole world is upside down.


    He takes my arm and steers me into the living room, making me sit on the couch. I expect him to sit across from me, but he sits on the coffee table and grabs my shoulders.


    ¡°Adriana, this is really fucking important. What else did the Feds say?¡±


    ¡°I told you. They know about me being in your card games, they know Nicky¡¯s game was robbed, and they know people were killed.¡±


    ¡°Fuck.¡±


    Vince covers his face with his hands in an uncharacteristic show of weakness.


    ¡°Oh, and I might go to jail for participating in illegal gambling.¡±


    His head snaps up. ¡°Did they say you were under arrest?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Did they say you would be arrested if you didn¡¯t give them information?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    A sigh leaves his mouth. ¡°Then you have nothing to worry about. They don¡¯t have shit on you, otherwise they would have arrested you.¡±


    I sink into the couch, every inch of me trembling. ¡°You¡¯ve ruined my life.¡±


    His shoulders curl forward as he looks down. ¡°It¡¯s not ruined, Adriana.¡±


    ¡°It is!¡± I stand up, but he pushes me back into the couch. ¡°They killed my dad. They ruined my childhood. How many other lives have you ruined? How many other innocent people have to die before you realize that this life is fucked up?¡±


    ¡°This is who I am. You knew who I was, Adriana,¡± he says in a quiet, cold voice. ¡°All of a sudden, you have a problem with it? I don¡¯t buy it.¡±


    My voice falters. ¡°My dad died because of people like you.¡±


    His mouth twists. ¡°What exactly do you mean? I¡¯ve been nothing but good to you, Adriana. I never hurt you, have I?¡±


    Heart pounding, I shake my head, but I¡¯m still determined to hate him.


    ¡°Face it. Your father was far from innocent if he was borrowing money from organized crime. Even you said they didn¡¯t mean to kill him. We don¡¯t kill people who don¡¯t pay back loans.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, right!¡±


    ¡°It would defeat the whole purpose!¡±


    Shut up.


    I shake my head, frustrated tears squeezing from my eyes. Fuck him. Fuck all of them. His hand lies on my knee and I want to smash it because there is no one else to take out my anger on.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry about your dad, I really am, but his death had nothing to do with me. Don¡¯t punish me for something I didn¡¯t do.¡±


    ¡°It just doesn¡¯t feel right. Every night I see him die.¡±


    He sits down beside me and pulls me into a hug. I¡¯m so fucking weak. I cling to his chest and against my will I feel better. Then a sick wave threatens to drag me under the sea when I imagine dad¡¯s killers with Vincent¡¯s face.


    ¡°We¡¯ll find out who did it.¡±


    What?


    ¡°Because I love you¡­because you¡¯re everything to me, I¡¯ll find out who killed him. And you¡¯ll get justice.¡±


    My throat is ice. ¡°I-I don¡¯t know if I want that.¡±


    ¡°Yes, you do.¡±


    Somehow, his heated gaze sees directly through my skin and flesh, into the sick desires of my heart. Maybe that¡¯s why he chose to reveal to me his real desire the first night we were together. Just the thought of it makes me burn.


    His heat wraps around me as his finger move across my jaw, tipping my head up. His angry mouth and tongue descend over my lips. I can barely kiss him back, because his mouth travels to my neck and sucks hard. My core tightens and I dig my fingers into his soft hair. I can¡¯t help but want him. I know it¡¯s wrong, and his offer to kill my father¡¯s murderer is insane, but at the same time I feel so empowered by it.


    He¡¯d do anything for me. Kill for me.


    My jacket falls from my shoulders. He reaches around my waist and pulls my shirt right off my head, followed quickly by my bra. He nts hot kisses down my throat and his hands slide up my belly to grab my breasts. I moan into his hair, which is thick with his unique, masculine scent. Heughs richly as I sit up while straddling his waist, my breasts flush against his face.


    His arms squeeze my thighs through my jeans, and then his hand makes a circle around my ass. I know what he¡¯s going to do and I wrap my arms around his head. A sharp stingnds on my ass as he ps me hard. His mouth takes my nipple and bites, his tongue ying with the sensitive flesh, and I moan.


    Suddenly, he flips me over so that I¡¯m on my back, and his body hovers over me. He grips my jaw painfully and gives me a sharp p with his other hand. For a moment I¡¯m stunned, close to tears.


    ¡°That¡¯s for running off and not answering my calls. You put me through hell today. Don¡¯t do it again, Adriana. I mean it.¡±


    The threat in his voice makes me swallow hard, but he follows it with a tender kiss. I¡¯m getting a whish from his constant mood swings, but it all feels so good that I don¡¯t care.


    ¡°Promise me you won¡¯t.¡±


    He pulls back, looking at me with a mixture of aggression and lust.


    ¡°I-I promise.¡±


    Fingers tap against my cheek again. ¡°Promise what?¡±


    ¡°I promise I won¡¯t run off.¡±


    ¡°Good girl.¡±


    He bends over me, unzipping my fly. The tight jeans snag on my hips and I feel a small thrill as he yanks them harder. They fly off my legs. He pulls off the sexy ck lingerie panties he bought for me and a shudder runs through his body. His hand cups my mound and his finger dips into me. It¡¯s so slick that there¡¯s hardly any resistance.


    ¡°You were made for me.¡±


    He grabs my arms and pulls me upright like a doll, and I do the same thing to him. I grab him through his jeans and reach back to hold all of him. He wants to pick me up, but I undo his belt and unzip his jeans. He scoops me in his arms and lifts me up. We make it a few steps until my back ms against the wall, my legs locked around his waist. Then he adjusts himself and ms me against the wall again. His hardness throbs between my legs briefly before it stabs into me.


    Clutching his head, I utter a high gasp. It¡¯s so much more forceful. Every inch of him buries inside me as his wicked mouth makes hickeys on my chest. I squeeze around him as he pulses in and out, hurting my back.


    ¡°I love you,¡± I hiss in his ear. ¡°Oh, God, Vince.¡±


    ¡°You fucking better.¡±


    His length shoves into me again and my breath is knocked out of my lungs. It feels so incredible. Every day with him is always so unpredictable. I wrap my arms around his neck to bring him closer to me, so that our bodies are flush against each other. He begins a frenzied pace and he can¡¯t contain his deep, male groans. He ruts me hard, his thick length impaling me over and over. The nerves inside me are lit like a fuse, and the pressure gathers together. It growsrger. It¡¯s louder. My throat is raw with screaming his name.


    His tongue shoves down my throat and then he moans while his lips are still attached to me. His cock jumps inside me, still buried, and there¡¯s a flooding of warmth. My core contracts against him and pleasure bursts free, melting over all my limbs as Vince lowers me to the floor, kissing me.


    He won¡¯t let go. Vince scoops me off the floor with a devilish look and from the changing color of the walls; I realize he brought me into the bedroom. My lids droop as he lowers me gently into bed. He joins me, stripping the bed to slide under the sheets with me.


    The ache inside me still burns as if I¡¯m missing my heart. Vince reaches out and pulls me into his chest with a happy sigh. I burrow into his arms and copse.


    ¡°Vince?¡±


    His chest rumbles. ¡°Hm?¡±

 39

    I trace a pattern on his chest as my eyes fight to stay open. I¡¯m trying to work out what¡¯s bothering me. Now that Vince promised he would help me, I feel better. Before him, I didn¡¯t have any answers about what happened. Now he¡¯s promising to find out who did it. Sleep drags me into its clutches before I can think of anything to say. His chest rises and falls like the sea. I¡¯m warm. I¡¯m safe.


    Fear billows in my chest as I walk into the stale room, surrounded by people in ck. There aren¡¯t very many people. It¡¯s a wide-open room. Huge floral wreaths surround a long, brown coffin. I can see a tuft of daddy¡¯s hair surrounded by the white, fluffy interior.


    My knees shake and I grip Mom¡¯s hand. People walk beside the coffin in quiet, murmuring session. They asionally reach inside to touch him.


    I don¡¯t want to touch him. I don¡¯t even want to go near the coffin.


    ¡°Adriana, you¡¯re embarrassing me.¡±


    Mom¡¯s fingers tighten around mine in a bruising grip.


    ¡°Please, Mom. I don¡¯t want to!¡±


    ¡°You have to. It¡¯ll be thest time you see him.¡±


    No! I don¡¯t want it to be thest time-I don¡¯t want to see him like this. A loud, wailing cry shakes out of my throat, but nobody pays me any attention. She pushes me along the coffin. I see a powdered face. The lines in his face have vanished, but he¡¯s frowning. I swallow hard when I see his chest rise and fall. I¡¯m hallucinating. The sh on his throat is now a faint line, barely visible.


    ¡°Go on,¡± she urges me. ¡°Say goodbye to your Daddy.¡±


    He¡¯s not my Daddy. He doesn¡¯t look anything like him.


    I reach out and touch the hands sped over his chest. It¡¯s like touching cold wood. I recoil immediately, and shame fills my chest.


    The letter I wrote trembles in my hands, but I slip it inside, careful not to touch any more of him. All the things I never said often enough: I love you, Daddy. I¡¯m sorry for being a brat sometimes. I didn¡¯t mean to break that vase. I told you I didn¡¯t want to go fishing, but I did. I only said it because Mom told me that girls shouldn¡¯t do boyish things like that. I¡¯m sorry.


    A hysterical scream distracts me. Grandma, nearly 80 years old, screams in anguage I can¡¯t understand as she stands nearby. It scares me. Everyone cries after me when I run past the coffin and sprint towards the open doorway, out of that wretched ce.


    I tense upon waking up, my mind still filled with the funeral. I want to shove it out of my mind immediately. My palm spreads over the warm sheets, but Vince¡¯s body is absent.


    Footsteps clip over the hardwood floors and a scream catches in my throat.


    Christ, it¡¯s only him.


    Vince walks into the bedroom, dressed into a charcoal grey suit. His hair looks damp, like he just took a shower. A smile spreads over his face as I drop the sheet from my body and get up out of bed.


    ¡°Maddon, I¡¯ll never get used to this,¡± he says in a low hiss as I walk towards him,pletely naked.


    He¡¯s all I¡¯ve got.


    I grab his tie as his arm curls around my waist. I pull his bemused face towards mine and kiss him softly, pulling back when he tries to deepen it. My hands move along his torso, around his hips to the bulge between his legs. I squeeze him.


    He smirks and pulls back. ¡°Bad girl. Trying to distract me when I need to leave. Don¡¯t think I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re trying to do.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right, I¡¯m trying to stop you. That doesn¡¯t mean I don¡¯t want you.¡±


    ¡°Ah, Fuck.¡± His eyes ze as he takes my head and kisses me long and hard. ¡°I don¡¯t deserve you.¡± Dark eyes flick to the door. ¡°I still got to go, though.¡±


    But it¡¯s so dangerous for him to be out there. I don¡¯t understand, and I know he won¡¯t exin.


    ¡°Please be safe.¡±


    ¡°I will.¡± He kisses my cheek and gives me a smoldering look before he leaves the bedroom. I hear the front door open and close.


    I get dressed slowly because there¡¯s really nothing to do. I putz around for the rest of the day, watching TV, lounging on the couch.


    My phone rings and I grab it absentmindedly, hoping that it¡¯s Maria.


    It¡¯s not.


    ¡°Adriana!¡±


    My mother¡¯s frantic voice sts through the tiny speaker. Jesus. What does she want now?


    ¡°Mom-what?¡±


    ¡°You need to get here right away. It¡¯s an emergency.¡±


    Bored, I change channels on the television. ¡°You¡¯ve done this before.¡±


    ¡°Adriana, I¡¯m not fucking kidding! I need you toe, now!¡±


    I sit up straighter on the couch. She definitely sounds distressed.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t tell you on the phone! Just get here now!¡±


    ¡°All right, Jesus.¡±This text is ? N?velDrama/.Org.


    I hang up and twist my phone in myp. I know I¡¯m not supposed to leave, but there¡¯s something seriously wrong at Mom¡¯s house. My gut clenches as her voice rings in my ear.


    Something¡¯s not right.


    I gather up my shit, snatching my purse, phone, wallet, and coat. Halfway through the door, I shrug on my coat and lock it. Sprinting across the street, I descend the stairs into the warm metro. Only then do I remember that I should probably text my fiance where I¡¯m going.


    My fiance.


    It sounds so weird.


    Halfway there, I convince myself that Mom probably left the stove on and all the crap cluttered nearby caught fire, or she needs me to change a light bulb. I check my phone again and the message is still unsent. Goddamn tunnels.


    Despite my inner voice, I still walk a little more quickly when the doors open to the station. The cold nips at my nose as I ascend the staircase. It¡¯s really bright outside. I¡¯ve forgotten how long it¡¯s been since I¡¯ve actually seen the sky, and it¡¯s a blinding white. A thick white nket covers the sky, mirroring the bright patches of snow on Mom¡¯swn. I try to peek in the darkened windows, but I don¡¯t see anything.


    Stamping down my nerves, I twist the door and shove it open, stumbling in the dark. My mother is down the hall, looking frightened but in one piece. Another sh of irritation heats my skin.


    ¡°She¡¯s here,¡± she says.


    She¡¯s here? Who¡¯s here?


    Her eyes are not focused on me.


    There¡¯s a sound of a footstep, the scrape of a shoe on carpet, and I turn right into it. A man aims a gun at my forehead and I open my mouth-


    ¡°Don¡¯t fucking scream.¡±

 40

    ¡°Surprise.¡± His lips pull into a grin, revealing two rows of stained teeth.


    My heart pounds behind my ribs, my eyes wide as I seek out my mom, who has her hand covering her mouth. Vomit rises up my throat, but I swallow it down. It burns.


    The grin bes a grimace. ¡°I ought to blow your fucking brains out.¡±


    Mom stands behind him. ¡°No, Richie!¡±


    The metal digs in my temple and I flinch horribly.


    ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± I tremble. ¡°Please don¡¯t kill me.¡±Original from N?velDrama.Org.


    I stare into his angry gaze-a face that looks so familiar. He¡¯s a stocky man with jet-ck hair and eyes, slicked back hair with a sharp widow¡¯s peak. His thick ck eyebrows are narrowed in an expression of violent contempt.


    ¡°Richie, don¡¯t hurt her.¡±


    ¡°Shut your fucking mouth.¡± He turns his head sideways to address my mother.


    ¡°W-what¡¯s going on?¡±


    He turns back to me. ¡°You¡¯re going to call that cock-sucking piece of shit Cesare and tell him toe here. And if you tip him off in any way, I¡¯ll kill you.¡±


    Mom strides to his elbow and she grabs his arm. ¡°Richie, that¡¯s not what we discussed-ah!¡±


    She screams as Richie gives her a vicious backhand that leaves her sprawling on the ground. The hateful eyes find me again, cutting deep.


    Under my fear, a sliver of confusion rises to the surface. Not what we discussed?


    ¡°Just give me a fucking reason. I¡¯ve dealt with your piece of shit family and your cunt of a mother for years.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t let you hurt my daughter!¡± She rises to her feet.


    ¡°You want your fucking debts paid off? Then shut the fuck up!¡±


    Her words ring through the apartment, cutting me down to my soul. I forget myself for a moment.


    ¡°What does he mean, your debts will be paid off? What did you do?¡±


    Mom braces herself against the wall and gives me a miserable look. ¡°Oh, Adriana.¡±


    ¡°Me and Vincent have a score to settle. My fucking brother is in the hospital.¡±


    That¡¯s why he looks so familiar. Silvio¡¯s brother. They look exactly alike.


    ¡°The boss wants him dead, anyway. Not that I give a fuck about Tony and his fucking war.¡±


    ¡°Call him, Adriana.¡± My mother stands behind Richie, looking pale but determined.


    A rush of hatred I¡¯ve never felt before consumes my chest. ¡°You were going to agree to let him kill my fiance? For what?¡±


    She winces. ¡°You never even mentioned him to me. I didn¡¯t know-¡±


    ¡°Both of you shut the fuck up!¡±


    I jump at the sound of his voice. His gun digs in my skull with every syble.


    ¡°Call him.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°CALL HIM OR I SWEAR I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!¡±


    My eyes shut as he screams in my face, tears squeeze through my lids and run down my face.


    ¡°If you don¡¯t, I will,¡± Mom says evenly.


    Hatred bubbles in my chest as I reach in my purse.


    ¡°Put it on speakerphone. Do it!¡±


    Helpless, I put it on speakerphone and press my finger over Vince¡¯s name. I won¡¯t lead him to his death. I¡¯ll warn him, somehow.


    What should I say?


    His voice cracks on the speaker.


    ¡°Finally, you answer your phone. I got your text. What¡¯s the matter?¡±


    I swallow hard. ¡°Can youe get me now?¡±


    ¡°Is something wrong? Your voice sounds a little-¡±


    I don¡¯t hear the rest, because Richie¡¯s eyes bulge at me in warning. The gun knocks against my head again. ¡°My throat¡¯s just a little dry. Can you bring me a ss of water-I mean, a bottle?¡±


    Silence.


    Please remember it. I squeeze my eyes and hope that Vince remembers that stupid phrase he taught me if anything happened during those games.


    ¡°Sure,¡± he says in a controlled voice. ¡°How many?¡±


    How many people?


    ¡°Just one, I think. One should do it.¡±


    ¡°Be there soon. I love you.¡±


    ¡°L-love you, too.¡±


    Richie seizes my phone, looking confused and outraged. ¡°What was that, you fucking whore? Some kind of code? What, you think I¡¯m stupid?¡±


    Shit!


    ¡°No! I-I was just-¡± My hands fly in the air as he cocks the gun. ¡°Oh, God. I swear I was just trying to act normal!¡±


    I can see by looking in Richie¡¯s narrowed eyes that he isn¡¯t buying it.


    ¡°C¡¯mere you little cunt.¡±


    He grabs me by the hair and drags me into the kitchen, the gun burrowing into the soft flesh of my neck.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to sit down at the fucking table. If you move, I¡¯ll kill you. Tommy!¡±


    There¡¯s another man in the house? My heart sinks as I copse in the kitchen chair. I¡¯ve fucking killed him. He won¡¯t be expecting another gunman.


    Another man¡¯s shadow moves in the house. ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°You keep your eyes on the door. I want that prick dead.¡±


    ¡°Got it.¡±


    Fuck.


    Richie slinks down the hall, his gun trained on me.


    ¡°Sit down next to her,¡± he barks at my mother, who balks at him.


    ¡°But-¡±


    ¡°Jesus fucking Christ-¡±


    ¡°All right!¡±


    I bristle when she sits down next to me. Herrge brown eyes stare at me beseechingly and I want to strangle her.


    She set me up.


    My own mother. I¡¯ll never forgive her for this.


    There¡¯s no time to think about my rage. Right now, all I want to do is survive the day.


    All of us tense as we hear a knock at the door.


    Vince, no!


    Richie jerks the gun at me. ¡°You, go answer it. Don¡¯t even think about running off.¡±


    My legs somehow move towards the door, my shoulders tightened. I expect the door to blow open. I hope to God Vince figured it out. My palm falls over the doorknob and my fingers close around the brass. I twist it and it creaks open.


    There¡¯s no one.


    I turn around to go back inside, but then I see him, crouched on the side of the house and aiming a gun-at me. I tense as he aims away and presses a long finger to his lips. My lips tremble as I sound out, ¡°two.¡± He nods in understanding.


    ¡°There¡¯s no one there.¡±


    ¡°Lying cunt,¡± the angry voice says behind me. ¡°Cesare,e inside with your hands up, and I won¡¯t kill your whore.¡±


    Before I can move, his hand is wrapped around my throat and he pulls me back into his body.


    ¡°Get off me!¡±


    Suddenly, there¡¯s a sound of a crash in the kitchen. The man aiming his gun at the door, waiting for Vince to step aside, makes a jerking movement.


    ¡°Fuck. He¡¯s not alone. Go check it out!¡± Rotting breath billows over my face. ¡°You fucking stupid cunt. You tipped him off.¡±


    His thumbs cut off my air. My windpipe feels like it¡¯s being crushed.


    There¡¯s a banging noise in the kitchen, then a small series of zwips. A loud crash. Something heavy falls on the floor, shaking the apartment.


    ¡°Jesus, fuck!¡±


    My mother screams from the kitchen. ¡°He¡¯s dead! He¡¯s been shot!¡±


    Good.


    ¡°Richie, I¡¯ming inside,¡± I hear his gravelly voice near the front door.


    ¡°No, Vincent! Don¡¯t!¡± I scream.


    ¡°Shut the fuck up!¡±


    Despite my pleas, Vince walks in with his hands held up, his cks slightly wet from the snow outside. His expression is unreadable.


    ¡°Well, least I know Tony didn¡¯t n this,¡± he drawls. ¡°You really didn¡¯t think this hit through, did you?¡±


    ¡°Fuck Tony! I got her mother to bring her here!¡±


    Vincent¡¯s ck gaze shes in the direction of the kitchen, where my mother stands. His face twists.


    ¡°So what the fuck do you want, eh? What¡¯s your n, here? I have guys waiting outside for you to leave. You can leave here in one piece or you can leave in the back of my trunk. It¡¯s your choice.¡±


    ¡°You almost killed my brother! And for what? This broad?¡±


    ¡°He disrespected me at one of my games and he threatened to kill me. I was well within my rights-¡±


    ¡°You think this is the end? The Vittorios are finished. You are on Tony¡¯s hit list, pal.¡±


    ¡°Well, he came, he tried, and I¡¯m still here. Even I never thought Tony would order a hit on all of us while we were surrounded by family, in such a public ce. Slimy cocksucker.¡±


    The hand around my throat tightens and I w at the fingers.


    ¡°Let her go,¡± he growls again.


    ¡°Go fuck yourself.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no way out, Richard.¡±


    He¡¯s closing my throat of air, shutting the flow of oxygen as I stare at Vince, wide-eyed. ¡°Please.¡±


    Richie shifts, pulling me in front of him as a human shield as he extends his arm with the gun. I scream as the gun fires. Something wet sprays all over my face and Richie¡¯s body falls to the floor with a resolute thud. Vince steps over the threshold, his face a mask of fury. He raises his gun at the body. Pop. Pop. Two bullets sink into Richie¡¯s chest. A third burns a ck hole between his eyes.


    Mom steps in the hallway and screams, mirroring the feelings boiling inside me.


    ¡°Nicky, get in here!¡±


    The short man dashes inside. ¡°Holy fuck,¡± he says as he almost stumbles over the body. ¡°He¡¯s from Jersey.¡±


    Vince doesn¡¯t speak a word; he strides into the kitchen and grabs my mother, who screams bloody murder. She falls to her knees in front of the body and he digs the nozzle of his gun in the back of her head.


    ¡°Fucking stupid bitch!¡±


    No.

 41

    A violent surge of disgust and loathing makes me bend over at the waist and retch. My knees dig into the hardwood floor as a pool of blood creeps towards me. Another body stains the floor. Like a brand, it sears into my mind. My memories can¡¯t fade no matter how much I try to run away from them. His murder keepsing back to me full circle. Another body lies on the hardwood floor of this house. My body wracks with sobs as Vince stands over my mother, preparing to kill her, too.


    I don¡¯t want her to die.


    ¡°Please, Vince.¡±


    He gives me an incredulous look. ¡°This bitch would have seen you killed if it meant she could save her own stinking skin.¡±


    She¡¯s still my mom.


    His jaw sets. ¡°I know she¡¯s your mother, but she witnessed two murders. And we already know the depths of her loyalty.¡±


    ¡°I would never hurt my own daughter,¡± she screams through her tears.


    ¡°You would have helped kill the man I love! How is that not hurting me?¡±


    I stare at her, my eyes hot as she blubbers and cries. Vince gives me an unhappy look as he slides the gun back into his waistband.


    Nicky steps out of the bathroom and hands me a towel, dropping a garbage bag in front of me. ¡°Put it in there when you¡¯re done.¡±


    I dab my face with the off-white towel and the sprinkling of blood peppers the fabric. Vince is on the phone, calling for help.


    They need to get rid of two bodies. Somebody must have heard the gunshots.


    His eyes smolder when they fall on my mother. She still sits on the floor, wiping her eyes.


    ¡°We¡¯ll be watching you, Mrs. Baldino. If you talk to anyone, you¡¯re dead. You will not talk to Adriana. If I find out you¡¯ve attempted to contact her, I¡¯ll put a bullet in your fucking head.¡±


    My heart wrenches with grief when she looks at me, tears flooding her face.


    ¡°Adriana, please. My baby-don¡¯t take away my girl!¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s my girl, now.¡±


    She makes an unnatural sound as he bends down and picks me up. ¡°You¡¯re dead to me, Mom. I don¡¯t want to see you again,¡± my voice shakes with a sob and Vince¡¯s arms wrap around me.


    ¡°No, Adriana!¡±


    I walk through my old house for thest time, the sound of my mother¡¯s crying fading away. It¡¯s like a horrible, ck cloud sits on my shoulders, and I¡¯m not sure if it¡¯s going to suffocate me or rise through the air.


    * * *


    Silence.


    I hate the quiet. It¡¯s suffocating. Despite the fact that I¡¯m sitting next to the man responsible for the bodies soaking in the trunk, I feel like I¡¯m the monster.


    I can¡¯t stomach it. My own mother. I should have let him kill her. A secondter, the thought sickens me. Who the fuck am I?


    There¡¯s no one left who cares about me. Only him.


    ¡°Adriana, talk to me. Are you all right?¡±


    Vince keeps giving me worried looks, like he¡¯s afraid I might have lost my mind.


    It¡¯s possible.


    ¡°No, I¡¯m not,¡± I say in a hoarse voice.


    ¡°You will be. I¡¯m taking you to a safe house. The other guys¡¯ wives are already there.¡±


    So he¡¯s leaving me there. I¡¯m still numb. ¡°Where are you going?¡±


    ¡°To another safe house while we try to make a deal with Tony. If not him, then his capos. I¡¯m not sure they¡¯re all thrilled about this war. The less you know, the better.¡±


    As we drive by, I find myself wishing I was buried under the snow.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe she did that to me,¡± I say in a reedy voice that disgusts me.


    Don¡¯t fucking cry.


    He squeezes my hand. ¡°At least now you know the truth. We found out who your dad owed those debts to. The Rizzos.¡± His voice rises sharply. ¡°I knew those FBI cocksuckers were lying. I¡¯ll ask Jack about it, see what he knows.¡±


    I blink as tears bead on my eyshes. I didn¡¯t even think about that yet. All of it seems so far away, now. I¡¯m still staggering from my mother¡¯s betrayal. Tears keep falling, and I turn my head so that he can¡¯t see.


    ¡°You¡¯re not alone, Adriana. You¡¯ll always have me.¡±


    His hand tightens over mine until the grip is almost painful. I¡¯m not sure he¡¯s enough. I can¡¯t just survive off one person.


    ¡°How¡¯s your mom?¡±


    He exhales a long breath. ¡°Still recovering. She¡¯ll be there, too.¡±


    The car grinds to a halt in front of an unassuming house in the suburbs of Long Ind. Vince inclines his head. ¡°They¡¯re in there.¡±


    He looks at me with a grim expression, and I realize this might be thest time I see him.


    Iunch myself towards the driver¡¯s seat. My arms wrap around his neck as he lets out a grunt. I screw up my face against his chest. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    ¡°Sorry for what?¡±Belongs ? to N?velDrama.Org.


    I cringe as he strokes the side of my face. I don¡¯t deserve his kindness. ¡°I almost got you killed.¡±


    ¡°That bastard was going toe after me one way or another. At least you tipped me off. My clever little thief.¡±


    I¡¯m such an asshole. All those times he pleaded with me to stay put, and I didn¡¯t listen to him. He¡¯s always been there for me when it counted. He¡¯s always cared for me. Why did it take me so long to see it?


    He tips my head back and kisses me. It may be for thest time, so I pull his face closer to mine when his burning lips touch mine. My hands sweep around his shoulders and bury themselves in his fine hair. Then I reach down, touching his chest, his abs, the firm muscles hardening as my palm sweeps over them. His mouth crashes against mine before he holds me back, his mouth parted and his face flushed.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t goodbye.¡±


    ¡°Please don¡¯t take any stupid risks. You¡¯re all I have now.¡±


    The desperation in my voice makes me feel pathetic. I suck in my breath as he kisses the tears from my face.


    ¡°Go inside.¡±

 42

    Fresh tears slide down my face. ¡°Bye.¡± I open the door and run towards the door, knocking furiously as Vince watches me across the street.


    A red-eyed Carm opens the door. She doesn¡¯t blink as she looks at my tear-stained face. She stands back and opens the door. I turn around and wave at Vince, and he drives off. Something goes through me as I watch him go. A silent howl.


    ¡°Come on.¡±


    My attention tears back to the house. It¡¯s a stale, musty ce with moth-eaten furniture and chipping paint. I hear low voices in the kitchen as Carm closes the door. To my surprise, she pulls me into a fierce hug.


    ¡°Adriana, I¡¯m so d you¡¯re okay.¡±


    Her voice sounds like she¡¯s on the verge of tears. Who can me her, really?


    ¡°I¡¯m not really sure I¡¯m okay. How¡¯s Jack?¡±


    Not that I care.


    She pulls back, blinking rapidly. ¡°He¡¯s going to be fine. He needs to spend a couple weeks under observation.¡±


    ¡°Thank God.¡±


    She sniffs and dabs at her eyes with a piece of tissue. ¡°Let¡¯s go in the kitchen. Gloria will be happy to see you.¡±


    Who?


    I walk two steps inside the kitchen before I hear a scream. I tense all over, thinking of gunfire and bodies-


    ¡°Adriana! Oh my God!¡± Mrs. Cesare crashes into me and seizes my middle, hugging me so hard that I think I might pass out. ¡°How¡¯s my son? Is he okay?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s fine. He just brought me here.¡±


    A scowl forms over her face. ¡°And he didn¡¯t evene in to say hi?¡±


    ¡°Mrs. Cesare, it¡¯s dangerous for him to be out with everything happening.¡±


    Her fingers dig into my skin. ¡°Those mezzo fanooks. I can¡¯t sleep at night. My sister¡¯s kids are dead.¡±


    There are four other women sitting around the kitchen table, and I recognize Nicky¡¯s wife as she looks at me from the table with a pity filled gaze.


    ¡°We¡¯ll have another engagement party for you.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll host it at my house,¡± Mrs. Cesare says as she unhooks her arms from around my middle.


    Engagement parties are thest things on my mind. ¡°Thanks, but I don¡¯t think I really want one anymore.¡±


    Her eyes slowly fill with tears, and then she excuses herself, running towards the bathroom. I watch her leave in rm.


    ¡°What did I say?¡±


    Stefani waves her hand. ¡°Never you mind. She¡¯s been crying all day off and on. I don¡¯t me you for wanting out.¡±


    Is that what she thought I meant? The wives look at me with varying degrees of pity and disappointment. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean that, it¡¯s just I don¡¯t really feel like celebrating what with everything that happened. There are more important things.¡±


    ¡°Adriana, you only get married once. Who is your maid of honor?¡±


    I swallow hard. Truthfully, I haven¡¯t thought of it. Do I even want to get married? ¡°Maria, probably. But I don¡¯t know if she¡¯ll even want to after everything.¡±This text is ? N?velDrama/.Org.


    ¡°Vince is a great man. We¡¯ve never seen him be so taken with anyone.¡± Another woman speaks up, her ck hair pinned in a beehive. Like Carm, she looks like she¡¯s been through hell. There¡¯s a sad, resigned look on her face. ¡°Though, you¡¯ll have to prepare yourself for reality.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°After you¡¯re married, Vince will probably get aare.¡±


    What¡¯s that?


    She gives me a pitying look. ¡°A mistress.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Iugh as they all look at me with sympathetic faces. ¡°Vince wouldn¡¯t do that. He would never hurt me. He loves me.¡±


    They smile at me as if I¡¯m a naive little girl.


    Is it true? Am I resigned to a life of this-hiding while wondering if the man I love is going to make it in one piece, making sure his dinner is made while he fucks mistresses on the side? A surge of emotions fill my chest.


    I don¡¯t want that.


    Unable to remain in their presence any longer, I leave the room and retreat upstairs where I hear Mrs. Cesare stifled sobs. I find a room to myself and lock the door. Sitting on the dusty floor, I hug my knees and think.


    What a depressing week.


    Nothing can change, really. I¡¯m locked into this marriage. I suppose I was the moment I took his money. If I left, I¡¯d have nothing. Nobody.


    So there¡¯s really no choice, anyway.


    * * *


    Two days pass without so much of a text from Vincent. I¡¯m going crazy in this house, holed up with these women who act like nothing¡¯s wrong. I spend a lot of time in this room, buried under musty sheets like I¡¯m ten years old again.


    I trudge downstairs at noon. Everyone is sitting in the living room. The TV res with an episode of Keeping Up with the Kardashians and I listen to theirments about the show with wide-eyed wonder.


    How the fuck can they watch that insipid show with all this shit going on?


    Mrs. Cesare sits alone at the kitchen table, smoking a cigarette.


    ¡°Hi.¡±


    She gives me a tight smile, tapping her finger on the table restlessly.


    I¡¯m like that, too. Restless. I take the stack of dry dishes and put them away, her eyes following me as I work. When everything¡¯s put away, I turn around and sit at the table.


    ¡°I¡¯m worried about Vincent,¡± I mutter finally.


    ¡°Me too.¡± Her eyes wrinkle with the pain of not knowing whether her son is okay. ¡°But he¡¯s a capable man, not like his father.¡± She gives me a watery gaze. ¡°I just hope that, when you have kids, you¡¯ll keep them out of this life. I never wanted it for him.¡±


    My face burns as she mentions future children with Vince. God, I don¡¯t even know if I want kids.


    ¡°I will.¡±


    My pocket buzzes. She stares at it as I pull it out excitedly. I hope to God it¡¯s not another notification for a stupid app, but it¡¯s a text message.


    It¡¯s over. Coming to pick you and Ma up.


    ¡°He¡¯sing!¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°He said it¡¯s over. He¡¯s on his way.¡±


    Mrs. Cesare lets out a small shriek before she envelops me in a hug. Her breaths hitch with little gasps as her surprising strong grip squeezes my lungs.


    In the living room, voices lift with excitement as their husbands call them with the same good news. Mrs. Cesare unhooks herself from me as the doorbell rings almost ten minutester.


    ¡°Vinny!¡±


    It¡¯s like an electric shock to my heart. She runs to the door to let him in. He walks inside, wearing a leather jacket and jeans.


    ¡°Ma, I¡¯m okay.¡±


    His long arms wrap around her as he gives her a kiss on her head.


    It¡¯s strange, the feeling I get when he looks up and finds me. Our eyes lock and I feel like a cliche. In a few swift seconds, he crosses over and pulls me into a rib-crushing hug. My body trembles as if I¡¯m going through a seizure. He buries his fingers in my hair and gives me a kiss on the top of my head.


    Every day I buried my feelings for him. So that if he died, it would be easier.


    Vince pulls back, but I¡¯m still buried in his chest. God, I never want to let go.


    ¡°You okay, hon?¡±


    His thumb sweeps over my chin.


    ¡°I-we were all so worried.¡±


    A smile twitches on his face. ¡°I¡¯m all right, little thief. Let¡¯s go home.¡±


    When we get in the car, I¡¯m counting down the minutes till we¡¯re alone. Vince drops off his mom at her apartment, and the moment he slides back inside I give him a steely look.


    ¡°So what happened?¡±


    The smile on his face falters. ¡°Ade, you don¡¯t want to know, and I can¡¯t tell you anyway. This should be the end of it.¡±


    The gunfire from days ago at my engagement party seems to echo in the car.


    ¡°How was it? Being in that house?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t get me started,¡± I mumble. ¡°As soon as I walked in, the others told me how I should expect you to cheat on me with a mistress once we get married.¡±


    Another chill creeps up my spine. Once we get married. I guess I¡¯mmitting to this, aren¡¯t I? I watch his face carefully.


    It twists. ¡°What the fuck?¡± He looks at me. ¡°You don¡¯t believe them, do you?¡±


    I look down deliberately at myp. My shoulders lift in a shrug.


    ¡°Adriana, listen. They¡¯re just bitter. It¡¯s true that I was a bit of a yboy before I met you, but I¡¯m with you now. I¡¯m happy.¡±


    He gives me a smile that makes me dissolve into a puddle. Almost immediately, I dete. Sure, he says that now.


    When he parks the car, I¡¯m ready to bury myself under the sheets.


    ¡°We¡¯re going out, so get ready when you go upstairs.¡±


    ¡°What? Where?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll see,¡± he says when he opens my door.


    I watch his wide grin as we ride the elevator up. I hang on his shoulder and kiss under his ear, my lips teasing him. ¡°Tell me.¡±

 43

    ¡°No. Get your ass inside and get ready.¡±


    He smacks me right in the middle of the hallway and gives me a boyish smile.


    ¡°Dammit, Vince. Anyone can see us!¡±


    A rich sound rumbles his throat. ¡°Are you trying to tell me what I can and can¡¯t do to you?¡±


    I wouldn¡¯t put it past Vince to fuck me in the hallway. Blood drains from my face, but he onlyughs and pushes me inside. Damn, he¡¯s in a good mood.


    ¡°Get dressed.¡±


    ¡°I need to take a shower.¡±


    ¡°Then I¡¯ll watch.¡±


    I smile, but he follows me into the bathroom and stands with his arms crossed. Is he serious?


    It¡¯s almost like the first time I went to his apartment. A tingling sensation wraps around my skin as I shed my clothes. Ites from his gaze. I brush past him, smiling to myself as I set my ring on the counter. I lean inside the shower to turn it on and step inside immediately, closing the ss door.


    Ten seconds pass before the ss door opens, admitting a naked Vince who joins me under the spray. His biceps keep me pinned against him as he lowers his face to mine. His face hangs over me, dripping with water.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want you to think about what they said.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t help it.¡±


    He moves me against the ss wall. Although it¡¯s cold against my back, Vincent¡¯s body heat surrounds me. That delicious sense of anticipation floods my nerves like whiskey. His hands move across my shoulder des down my arms, to the curve of my breasts. Electricity sparks over my skin as he gives them a squeeze. His lips capture my moan and then his hand slips down, moving my thighs apart as the water sprays down, washing away all lubricant. Hard fingers push inside me and his tongue slips in my mouth.


    He knows my body so well, knows exactly where I like to be touched, and yet he is a mystery to me in so many ways.


    Within seconds, I¡¯m moaning loud enough for the whole bathroom to echo. He keeps at it slowly, ying with his tongue as his fingers probe in and out.


    Fuck.


    ¡°Vince, please.¡±


    Vince regards me under a mop of soaking wet hair. He grins. ¡°Please what?¡±


    You know what.


    A sh of irritation makes me twist my mouth. The fingers sink in deep enough to turn my scowl into a moan. ¡°Please fuck me.¡±


    ¡°Why should I give you what you want? You undermine me at every turn.¡±


    I know he¡¯s just ying with me, but I¡¯m desperate to argue. ¡°I stayed at the safe house. I didn¡¯t go out.¡±


    The fingers inside me twist. Oh, God.


    ¡°That¡¯s true,¡± he admits. ¡°Once you¡¯re my wife-¡±


    My face pales at the word.


    ¡°I won¡¯t tolerate this disobedient shit anymore.¡±


    I don¡¯t even care about what he¡¯s saying. There are three fingers inside me, and his hand still twists and pulls. An obscene wet sound makes me gasp.


    ¡°Vince, please-¡±


    ¡°Not until I hear you say it.¡± His eyes glitter with that cruel menace I see now and again.


    ¡°I belong to you. I¡¯m yours. Everything, Vince-¡±


    He scoops me up in his arms and lifts me. His cock fumbles at my lips before he shoves forward with ruthless lust on his face. The water makes for a rough entrance. He moves up my raw walls, pounding me as he grunts in my ear. The pleasure and painbine together, so much so that I confuse which is which.


    ¡°You¡¯re mine, too.¡±


    He utters a littleugh in my ear. ¡°Yes, I am,¡± he whispers in my ear. His hips dig into me and I wince. ¡°Always, baby.¡±


    He punctuates the end of his sentence with a ruthless thrust of his hips. His mouth is busy on my neck, but I hear his shuddering gasps. It¡¯s all too much, his naked body writhing against mine, the heat of the water and his mouth, the hard length pulsing inside me.


    He grunts in pain as I clench my fingers in his hair. My core contracts and my body convulses as the dam breaks, Vince¡¯s hips hammering it home. Electricity shoots from my fingertips, dancing all over my skin. He pulls out and utters a groan as he grips himself andes on my stomach.


    I slide down his body as he lowers me carefully to my feet. I lean into his arms. Warmth fills my chest when he kisses my head.


    ¡°Why would I want anyone else when you give me everything I need?¡±


    I smile sheepishly under his intense gaze and turn around to face the spray. We wash each otherboriously. He looks deliriously happy to be with me, the darkness purged from his mood.


    ¡°Where are we going?¡± I ask him when we¡¯re finally out of the shower.


    ¡°I¡¯m not telling.¡±


    I watch in mild fascination as Vince dries his hair and gets ready. It takes him a lot sooner to be done with everything, of course. He¡¯s dressed in a slim, ck suit, looking just as delectable as the day I met him. His hands wrap around my stomach as I add the finishing touches to my makeup. I look at us in the mirror and can¡¯t believe my reflection.


    I barely recognize myself.


    ¡°Come on. The city waits.¡±


    Vince takes my hand and leads me out of the apartment, into the garage to his ck BMW. I¡¯ve given up asking him what the surprise is. Is it another dinner? Another mob gathering? What?


    Once we¡¯re inside, he takes the steering wheel in his hands but doesn¡¯t turn on the ignition. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    Bewildered, I look around at him. He¡¯s still staring into the concrete wall of the garage. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I know I¡¯ve made you suffer. Your rtionship with your mom is over because of me and I know that sometimes I scare you.¡±


    My jaw drops. He mes himself over the mess with my mother? ¡°Vince, I feel a lot better with her out of my life.¡±N?velD(ram)a.?rg owns this content.


    It¡¯s the first time I¡¯ve admitted it to myself, but it¡¯s true.


    ¡°Don¡¯t feel bad about that. It wasn¡¯t your fault.¡±


    ¡°But I do scare you.¡±


    ¡°Yes, sometimes.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to.¡± He gives me another one of his lost looks, like a scared little boy seeking approval. ¡°I¡¯ll work on it, but I can¡¯t change who I am.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± I reach over and touch the back of his head. ¡°I don¡¯t want you to change. I love you the way you are. You¡¯ve always been there for me. Always stuck by me.¡±


    I need him.


    ¡°I can deal with it, Vince.¡±


    He smiles, finally getting that bit of approval that he needed.


    The car res with Jazz music as he takes me downtown, all the way into Lower Manhattan, past the 9/11 Memorial. I don¡¯t get it.


    ¡°What¡¯s in this part of town?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll see. Be patient.¡±


    God, what the hell is it?


    He parks the car and I get out before he can walk around to the other side. Grinning mysteriously, he takes me outside where the sky is a deep orange. We¡¯re overlooking the East River. I walk along his side as he takes me into a small building. A dark blue helicopter sits on a square of concrete.


    Excitement sizzles through my veins as he approaches thending pad, where a man in flight gear waits. ¡°Mr. Cesare, this way please.¡±


    We¡¯re going on a helicopter ride?


    ¡°Oh my God, Vince!¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re going to take a little ride over the city,¡± he says, looking pleased that I¡¯m so excited. He leads me to the chopper. ¡°After you.¡±


    I¡¯ve never been inside a helicopter. Hell, just sitting inside one makes me giddy. Vince climbs inside the white leather seats, looking as excited as I feel. I grab the headset and slip it over my ears as the pilot climbs in.


    The long des chop the air like knives, and the engine roars to life. I grab his hand and scream into the microphone as the ground lifts under our feet. The ss dome surrounding us gives the illusion of floating in midair. I watch as Lower Manhattan shrinks into a strip ofnd. The helicopter flies over the gem-like East River, circling around to fly up the Hudson. We circle around the light green Statue of Liberty, which is so small from this height. Then we¡¯re flying over the concrete jungle. I can see the whole city stretched out in front of me, burning orange with the sun. My whole life is in that small strip ofnd. We head uptown and the long, green strip of Central Park sprawls next to us. It¡¯s incredible.


    Vince squeezes my hand and I beam at him as he passes me a ss of champagne. There¡¯s a bucket of ice near his feet with a bottle dug into the ice. He pours one for himself and Iugh as we bump sses together. Hours ago, I was huddled in a safe house and now I¡¯m sipping champagne in a helicopter.


    I down the ss and set it at my feet. I lift the headset from my ears. It¡¯s loud as fuck, but I want to sit in his arms. My heart pounds as I slide over the seats. My legs slide over hisp as he takes me in his arms. God, I know I¡¯ll never feel as good as I do in his arms. He takes off his headset and presses his lips to my ear.


    ¡°I wanted to do it like this. This was how I was going to propose to you.¡±


    My chest constricts as he pulls back with a sad smile. Already tearing up, I fling my arms around his neck and kiss his ear.


    ¡°Yes, Vincent. I will!¡±


    I utter a small scream when the helicopter sweeps around suddenly, and Vinceughs.


    End of book 1. Hope you¡¯ve enjoyed it. Continue reading for book 2.

 Chapter 1 of book 2

    VINCENT


    She stands in the middle of my bedroom, blindfolded. My ck tie wraps around her head. Even though she¡¯s clothed, her limbs shiver because she¡¯s waiting for me. Her mouth is parted, almost as if she seeks my lips. Tiny hands grope the air, searching for my warmth. The leather cor I bought for her wraps around her little neck.


    Standing there, I watch her for a moment. She looks so deliciously vulnerable. I take a few silent steps until I¡¯m standing right behind her.


    Sensing my movement, she turns.


    ¡°Vince.¡±


    I grab the ring affixed to her cor and yank her backwards into my chest. My fingers dive into her silky hair and I yank her neck back, exposing her diving neckline and her perfect tits, rustling under her tank top. She jumps a little when my lips brush her ear.


    ¡°Not Vince-sir.¡±


    Her throat bulges as she swallows. ¡°Yes, sir.¡± A little smile tugs at her mouth, as if she finds it amusing.


    Oh, fuck that.


    ¡°Do I amuse you, Adriana?¡± My lips gently brush against her neck as my fingers dig into her hair.  ¡°Do you think this is a joke?¡±


    She whines in protest. ¡°No. No, sir,¡± she says quickly.


    ¡°Are you sure about that?¡±


    I run my fingers lightly over her tank top, curving around her tits and down her t stomach. Her lips widen and she lets out a small sound-a frustrated moan. A tingling sensation spreads over my cock at seeing her respond so quickly to my touch. Wrenching her hair again, I gather her pouting lips in mine. She deepens the kiss, her tongue flicking inside my mouth. Warmth fills my chest when she wraps her arms around me tightly, and for a minute I forget about the game we¡¯re trying to y.


    I love this girl. She¡¯s perfect for me-was always perfect.


    I stamp down on those feelings and break the kiss, pulling her hair roughly. ¡°I asked you a question.¡±


    Her flushed face burns. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m sure. Sir,¡± she adds.Original from N?velDrama.Org.


    Such a perfect girl. Obedient. And mine.


    ¡°Take off your pants.¡±


    When she hesitates, I rip my palm down on her sweet ass and she flinches.


    ¡°Don¡¯t make me do it again.¡±


    I¡¯d love to do it again.


    Her thumbs hook on her jeans and she pulls them down her smooth, irresistible legs. She teases them down, inch by inch, knowing how much it affects me. My cock twitches when I see the ck silk panties I bought her, stretching over her beautiful ass. My eyes follow her hands hungrily. I grab her waist and she leans into my chest. I want to kiss her, but I turn her body around so that she¡¯s facing the bed. Breathing fast, I grip the edges of her t-shirt and lift it up over her head. I can¡¯t fucking undress her fast enough. Her long, brown hair tumbles to her shoulders. She gasps as my fingers make quick work of her bra, and then my fingers press between her shoulder des. I stop for a moment to admire the view of her topless. Goddamn.


    Stooping down, I grab the edge of her panties and pull them down. Her legs shiver, and I sweep my hands up the long legs, palming her ass. I push her back down so that she¡¯sying face forward on the bed, her long hair sprawling on the mattress. My cks feel extremely tight and I want nothing more than to drop my pants and fuck her until she screams.


    My hand tightens over her, and her shoulder muscles tense up. She knows what¡¯sing.


    SLAP!


    Her body flinches as my palmnds on her backside, the sound music to my ears. I raise my hand again.


    SLAP!


    This time, she whimpers. The sound is a lot louder, moreplete. A beautiful, red burn blossoms on her cheek. I grab it, pinching roughly, loving the high-pitched squeal I get from her.


    I stand back for a moment, overwhelmed with the fact that she¡¯s mine, and that I can do anything I want to her. She never stopped me from fulfilling my fantasies. She never used the safe word to stop because she loves everything I do to her.


    My hand slips up her inner thigh and slides into her slick entrance. ¡°You¡¯ve always been a little slut, haven¡¯t you? Deep down inside, you were waiting for a man topletely dominate you. To own you.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the slut,¡± her voice rises in challenge. ¡°How many women have you been with before me?¡±


    My voice rises into a growl, but inwardly I¡¯mughing. My little thief loves to provoke my wrath. ¡°What the fuck did you say?¡±


    I grab her cor and wrench her upright. Her body falls into my chest and her hands reach around her back to touch my leg. Her fingers slide up my cks before anchoring around my rock hard cock. I bite my lip and hold back a sigh when I feel her fingers stroking the sensitive flesh. From the mirror, I can see her little smile. She¡¯s so bad at this.


    ¡°Turn around and suck my cock.¡±


    My powerful voice booms in the bedroom. She turns around in my arms, giving me a flushed smile before she drops to her knees. I grab a fistful of her hair as she unzips my pants. I sigh as she releases my cock from the confinements of my pants. Her tongue darts out, teasing the head of my cock.

 2-2

    Grabbing her head with both hands, I force myself through her lips into her wet, warm mouth. I close my eyes as I feel her tongue riding underneath. It¡¯s like dipping into a hot bath, immediately pleasurable. Her moist lips are tight around my cock and she doesn¡¯t protest when I bury myself to the hilt. It feels so fucking amazing. I grip her jaw and squeeze as I pulse inside her gaping mouth, until she finally gags. I pull out and give her a moment to breathe.


    ¡°Do you like it, baby?¡±


    She¡¯s so eager to please that I let it slide. She knows that she¡¯s supposed to call me ¡®sir.¡¯


    ¡°I do. Very much,¡± I say in a strained voice.


    I stroke her cheek before plunging back inside. Her lips are like a ring of pure softness around me, and when she sucks, her cheeks tten against my cock. Pushing into her wet mouth, she gags again. I slip out and bend down to grab her cor. Still blind, she follows my arms, her mouth still open.


    My lips crash over hers. I tongue her bottom lip into my mouth and bite hard, my cock t against her stomach when she moans into my mouth.


    ¡°I want you badly.¡±


    Jesus Christ, I can¡¯t take it when she says things like that.


    Her hands grip my waist and move up my torso, her fingernails dragging lightly. She knows it drives me crazy. We break apart and I rip my shirt off my head. Now we¡¯re both naked. The blindfold is still snug over her head. My hands slide down her waist and anchor over her raw ass, lifting her up to throw her over my bed.


    I climb over her body, whichys underneath me like a beautiful sculpture. Her hands are limp at her sides, her body slightly curved into an S. She senses my heat above her and her lips part, almost as if my very presence is enough to make her pant. I run my fingers lightly over her breasts, resisting the urge to manhandle them and trace her curves with my tongue and bite down hard. Her skin shivers and she reaches up for my head.


    ¡°Please, Vince.¡±


    Fuck, how can I deny her when she does that?


    ¡°Please what?¡± I say in a tight voice.


    ¡°Please fuck me.¡±


    The words burst from her mouth in desperation and excite me to my very core. Blood rushes to my cock. It¡¯s involuntary at this point. I move her legs apart and she wraps them around my back.


    So willing. It¡¯s hard for me not to give her what she wants, so I give into it.


    I impale her in one, swift stroke. The sound she makes as I enter her makes me shudder. Her heat radiates around me, her muscles gripping my cock as I sink into her. When I move back, it¡¯s like her body is trying to pull me back in. I sink back into her delicious warmth, her body soft under mine. Pleasure tingles down the tip of my cock, all the way down my shaft. It urges me on. Faster. Harder.


    I grip her tiny waist and pound her pussy, digging every inch of me inside her. She yanks my hair and moans my name, driving me to the edge.


    Her breath tickles my ear as I moan into her neck. My cock thickens inside her tight, wet walls as I pound away. My heart rate is jacked and thick breaths leave my mouth. I hold her tight, pulling her hips towards me as our bodies join together. Over and over and over. Ecstasy rips through me, up my abdomen and spine, glowing in my head. My jaw clenches shut and my heart pounds against my chest.


    I growl into her neck, the heat building up so high I can barely stand it, and then a jolt shoots through me. My hips ride against her and a loud, ragged sigh leaves my mouth. Hot cum gushes through my shaft with waves of intense pleasure. I press into her, even though I¡¯m alreadypletely buried. Her muscles contract around me, milking me of every drop.


    Iy over her body, still buried inside her. She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me over and over, and I tug the blindfold from her head. Her warm brown eyes stare at me in a sleepy, deeply satisfied look.


    The hot bursts of pleasure sizzle away like fireworks, disappearing into the void. And everythinges back. The pressure. The stress. My guilt over the lies I tell her. The biggest lie I¡¯ve told her is that everything¡¯s fine; we have nothing to worry about.


    A long time ago, I epted that I was already dead. If you ept that you¡¯re already dead, you¡¯ll have nothing to fear. But now she¡¯s in my life, and I can¡¯t just go about life the same way. I can¡¯t not worry about her, because if I die, what¡¯ll happen to her?N?velD(ram)a.?rg owns this content.


    You know what will happen.


    I roll onto my back and she follows, curling on my chest. She kisses my throat as I swallow hard, staring up at the ceiling. I pray that she doesn¡¯t see anything in my eyes.


    No one knows about the feds watching her. Not even Jack. And it has to stay that way; otherwise he¡¯ll kill her.


    And probably me, too.


    ¡°You¡¯re so quiet,¡± she says, lifting her head from my chest. ¡°You look worried.¡±


    ¡°Thinking about Jack in the hospital.¡±


    At the mention of his name, her eyes harden. She just doesn¡¯t understand that we all live by the same code. Omerta. The code of honor and silence.


    ¡°How can you care about someone who wanted me dead?¡±


    It¡¯splicated. He¡¯s like a father to me, but it¡¯s more than that. I would follow him into the gates of Hell. Jack helped my mother for many years after my dad¡¯s death. He took me in and gave me a purpose. He even delivered me my dad¡¯s murderer-a retired cop. After he outlived his usefulness, Jack gave me his address.


    It was years ago. I went there and waited for him to return home, and when he did I knocked him out. When he woke up, the prick denied he had any involvement.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t kill your father,¡± he kept screaming. I emptied my revolver in his chest and stole the money in his wallet. The bastard didn¡¯t have much to rob.


    My father may have been an asshole, but he was still my father. And he deserved justice. I wasn¡¯t close to my father. In my eyes, he was a drunk who beat on Ma, but I was expected to bring him justice.


    The same way Adriana¡¯s deserves justice.


    Loyalty-that¡¯s what the family is about. Blood, honor, sacrifice, but most importantly-loyalty. Even if I may not always agree with Jack¡¯s decisions, I¡¯ll still obey him.


    But I won¡¯t when ites to her. I know deep down that I could¡¯ve never followed through when Jack wanted me to get rid of her. She¡¯s the only exception.


    My chest tightens when I think about it. ¡°He just didn¡¯t trust you, that¡¯s all.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s all?¡± She raises herself, her hair falling around her narrowed eyes.


    Sometimes, I think she forgets about my line of work.


    ¡°I could say the same about your mother,¡± I remind her gently.


    Her eyes look dented with pain and I feel like an asshole, but it¡¯s true. Her mother, that schifosa, tried to have me killed to settle her fucking debts. I wanted to put a bullet in her fucking worthless head, but Adriana was there and she was so upset.


    I couldn¡¯t do it.


    I couldn¡¯t be the one who killed her mother.


    Her eyes shine when I cup her cheek with my hand.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    The guilt weighs down her voice, but she has no idea how guilty I feel from the constant lies spilling from my mouth, even though I think she suspects. My fiancee isn¡¯t an idiot. She reads the news, but no longer asks me questions.


    ¡°I have to pay him a visit. Will youe with me?¡±

 2-3

    From the look zing in her eyes, I know that she doesn¡¯t want to, but it¡¯s disrespectful not to show up. She doesn¡¯t know that. I¡¯ve been trying to ease her into my life slowly. Certain things will be expected from her as my wife. It looks bad for me, not having her there. Makes them think I can¡¯t control my woman. Makes me look weak.


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t think so,¡± she says with her jaw clenched.


    ¡°Adriana, this is not up for discussion.¡±


    ¡°Fuck him,¡± she spits out.


    I take her jaw in my fingers, applying a bit of pressure. ¡°You¡¯re fuckinging,¡± I say in a low voice.


    Her eyes sh towards me. Defiance.


    ¡°Do I need to spank you again? You¡¯re still wearing the cor.¡±


    I flick one of the metal rings attached to her cor as her face colors with a deep blush.


    ¡°If you really want me to, I¡¯ll go,¡± she says finally.


    ¡°I do.¡±


    Her eyes look troubled as my fingers undo the leather sp around her neck, the supple leather unwinding from her easily.


    We were nearly killed only a few weeks ago. The Rizzo family tried to take us all out and they nearly seeded. Adriana¡¯s back tenses and I know she¡¯s thinking about the same thing. She curls into the crook of my arm and traces my chest.


    ¡°How do you do it? How are you so strong?¡±


    I smile to myself.


    The shooting was hard on me. I never expected that I would be shot at with my friends and family surrounding me at my own engagement party. I would be lying if I told her it didn¡¯t faze me. It shook me.


    I kiss the top of her head and run my fingers down her sexy back. ¡°I don¡¯t know. You get used to it.¡±


    She shakes her head. ¡°I can¡¯t get used to it.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to. That¡¯s why you¡¯re mine.¡± I distract her by pulling her body over mine. Goddamn, I¡¯m a lucky son of a bitch. ¡°I protect you and provide for you, and all you have to do is spread your gorgeous legs-¡±


    She punches my shoulder and Iugh at her annoyed face. ¡°I¡¯m not your whore.¡±


    ¡°Of course not, baby. You know I love you, right?¡±


    Adriana still pouts and I take her chin gently.


    ¡°Right?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    Then she smiles, and it¡¯s amazing how good it makes me feel.


    * * *


    Hospitals.


    I fucking hate them.


    They always make me nervous, no matter how many fucking times I visit them. It¡¯s the one ce where I¡¯m not in control. No amount of bullying, bribing, or threats can make these fucking doctors do exactly what I want them to do. It¡¯s up to their skills and luck.


    It pisses me off.


    That sharp, chemical smell burns my nostrils as I walk down the gleaming hallways, a twisted shadow of my reflection staring up at me. Adriana clings tightly to my hand as we walk into the waiting room, a bright room that burns my eyeballs. Paulie, recently promoted to captain, stands up from the lime green chair when he sees me approach. Sal, Nicky, and Tommy stand in a small circle.


    Good, everyone¡¯s here.


    Paulie wraps his arms around me and pounds my back.


    ¡°How is the boss?¡±


    He pushes his sses up his long nose and shrugs. ¡°He¡¯s all fucked up on meds, but the doctors say he should make a full recovery.¡±


    The pressure in my chest simmers down somewhat. ¡°Thank God.¡±


    Beside me, Adriana gives Paulie a thin-lipped smile as she pretends to be happy for Jack. She doesn¡¯t see Paulie¡¯s frown and I want to bend her over my knee and spank her in front of them. Could she be any more transparent about her dislike for Jack?


    Filing that away forter, I turn towards the short, irritable man who gives my fiancee a wide smile.


    Careful, asshole. She¡¯s mine.Original from N?velDrama.Org.


    ¡°Nick, how you doin¡¯?¡±


    He shrugs. He¡¯s still sore over being passed over for the capo promotion. If he wasn¡¯t such a reckless, violent fuck, I would have rmended him.


    ¡°Can¡¯tin.¡±


    I curl my arm around Adriana¡¯s waist and catch a scent of hervender shampoo. It acts like a balm for my mind and I squeeze her waist.


    ¡°I should go see him.¡±


    Nicky nods and points me in the direction of the room.


    Energy floods my veins as I walk towards the room, Adriana pinned to my side. I open the door and the sight of him lying on white sheets, tubes entering and exiting his body makes my legs stiffen in the doorway. He looks up at me through rheumatic eyes and is suddenly ovee with a coughing fit. For the first time, I see him as an old man. I don¡¯t know why, but it makes my heart race. Even Adriana feels stiff in my arms when she looks at him.


    His ashen face rolls to the side and cracks into a wide smile. ¡°Vinny, my boy! Come in!¡±


    I stride up to him and clutch his veined arm. My chest tightens as I look into his watery blue eyes and I don¡¯t breathe until Adriana slides beside me. She reaches up and touches my shoulder, a small gesture that allows me to inhale again.


    ¡°I¡¯m not so bad, Vince. It looks worse than it is. They¡¯re discharging me today.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s great.¡±


    His eyes slide over to my fiancee. ¡°Nice to see you, Adriana.¡±


    I wish I still held her hand, so I could squeeze it.


    ¡°Yeah. d you¡¯re okay,¡± she says in a voice barren of emotion.


    Jesus fucking Christ.


    Her brown eyes are remorseless as she turns around when I pinch her arm roughly. ¡°Go wait outside.¡±


    I¡¯ll deal with youter.


    I wait until the sound of her heels cking on the linoleum disappears. The door swings shut behind her, and Jack gives me a shrewd look.


    ¡°This war with the Rizzos-it can¡¯t go on, Vince,¡± he says in a surprisingly clear voice.


    My stomach clenches. ¡°It¡¯s safe to talk openly here?¡±


    Jack presses a button on the side of his bed. The bed moans as it pushes up, so that Jack is sitting upright. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s safe. Doctor-patient confidentiality. Cops can¡¯t bug hospitals.¡±


    Both of us have a goodugh at that.


    Still smiling, my voice turns grim as I force myself to confront the situation at hand. ¡°We need to have a sit-down with Tony. We don¡¯t have the manpower to win this war. I think Tony knows that.¡±


    My heart beats a violent tattoo against my chest.


    Jack gives me a shrewd look. ¡°He just tried to blow your head off. All of our heads, in fact. I want the cocksucker dead.¡±


    Easier said than done. He¡¯s the boss of the Rizzo family, for Christ¡¯s sake.


    I squeeze his shoulder. ¡°I know. Believe me, I know. But we¡¯re in no position to fight back. I think you should ask John in Montreal to help organize this sit-down.¡±


    The Cravotta Crime Family boss in Montreal is friendly with Jack, and he might be able to secure a meeting with Tony. On the plus side, he¡¯ll probably back us up if Tony decides to do something stupid.


    He makes a sour face. ¡°That French speaking fuck?¡±


    ¡°What? I thought you were on good terms with the Cravotta family.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I guess so.¡± His mouth sets in a firm line. ¡°There¡¯s something else. I did some digging on your fiancee.¡±


    Ah, shit.


    My stomach twists. ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°Her father pissed off the Rizzos by agreeing to testify against Richie, who is missing.¡± His eyes burn into mine.


    I don¡¯t dare blink. No one knows about his death. Not yet. If they did-if the Rizzos found out I killed one of their made men, I¡¯m fucked. I¡¯m dead.


    And I¡¯m not just living for myself anymore.


    My throat bulges and I swallow the painful lump. ¡°So what?¡±


    He looks at me like he wants to p my face. ¡°What the fuck were you thinking? Did you really think I wouldn¡¯t find out?¡±


    The energy rush to my head makes my hand slip on his bed. Oh, Fuck.


    ¡°No one else knows, Jack. I n to keep it that way.¡±


    ¡°You better fucking hope they don¡¯t find out, because if they do, there will be nothing stopping Tony from sanctioning a hit on you. I won¡¯t go to war with the Rizzos just to save one captain.¡±


    ¡°What the fuck was I supposed to do, Jack? That asshole lured me to Adriana¡¯s mother¡¯s house to whack me. These fucking Rizzos fight dirty, and then Tonyins when I fight back? Fuck him.¡±


    I don¡¯t understand the hardness in his eyes. He looks at me like I¡¯m a problem, like I¡¯m making sloppy mistakes. I¡¯m not.


    ¡°I love you, Vince, but it won¡¯t matter to them. To them, you¡¯ve vited the rules again.¡±


    Fuck. I know he¡¯s right.


    His hand snakes through the bars and grabs my wrist. ¡°You need to get rid of her mother.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    I yank my arm out of his grip. Is he fucking crazy?


    ¡°She¡¯s not trustworthy. She has to go. Give her a couple months, she¡¯ll be singing to the feds about you. About us.¡±


    Just the thought of it fills me with dread. It would destroy her. No.


    I move away from him as a dizzying spell ovees my body. My chest feels way too tight. ¡°No,¡± I manage to croak out. ¡°I won¡¯t fucking do it.¡±


    But he¡¯s right. I know he¡¯s right.


    ¡°Did you think being in this business was going to be easy?¡±


    Fuck off.


    ¡°It would devastate Adriana.¡±


    ¡°You swore to put this family above everything. Everyone. That includes your future wife and children. Do you know how many times-¡±


    ¡°I love her, Jack.¡± My voice shakes and I clear my throat to strengthen it. ¡°Don¡¯t make me do this.¡±


    The boss¡¯ gaze slides to hisp, and he adjusts the nkets on his legs. ¡°I knew you getting with this broad would be a fuckin¡¯ problem.¡±


    My fists clench together as white-hot energy burns away my fear. I would like to reach in that hospital bed and strangle him. ¡°She¡¯s not a fucking problem. She¡¯s going to be my wife.¡±


    Jack can be such an asshole.


    He heaves a sigh when he sees how I won¡¯t back down. ¡°Rx, kid. We¡¯ll table the issue with her mother for now-¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡± I look at him warily. Inwardly, I don¡¯t quite trust that Jack means what he says. He¡¯s a prudent man, and he¡¯ll get rid of her if he wants to.


    ¡°But if we¡¯re going to do this sit-down, you need to be prepared. Keep your fucking head down and do not cause a problem for me. Try to keep your temper under control, or this might end badly for you.¡±


    I want to roll my eyes. ¡°You don¡¯t need to say that. I¡¯m not a moron.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, well.¡±


    Wiseass.

 2-4

    I might die tonight.


    It keeps running through my head in a soft whisper.


    I expect it to happen. They¡¯re reckless. They¡¯ve already shot at us in a public restaurant surrounded by family. What the fuck do they care about rules? The only thing that gives me hope is that John will be there, mediating this meeting.


    Still, why the fuck am I making it so easy for them?


    Because it¡¯s better to walk to your own death. To actually choose it, instead of it jumping out at you, striking you down like a lightning bolt.


    Staring out into the city from my apartment makes me breathe easier. I look down at the quiet rumble of traffic, the haze rising over Central Park, and I feel removed from all of the politics within the families. Sometimes, when I feel guilty, I just stare out of this window and remind myself that we¡¯re all a bunch of ants scurrying around. What will it matter to the universe if one of them is gone?


    But I¡¯m not floating in space. I¡¯m a human being. I¡¯m just as much of a ve as the rest of these poor bastards walking around this city, but at least I know who I am.


    At least I aplished that.


    I never got to do all the things I wanted. Never saw Italy, never got married, or had kids.


    My heart pounds a dreadful beat. I want all those things. I never realized how badly I wanted them until I met her. When there¡¯s nothing between you and death but your intelligence or your guts, it¡¯s easy. In the past, I would have dly walked in the line of fire for Jack because we were part of the same family. This was my life.


    Now she is.


    Adriana sits at the small round table that she dragged near the windows, pouring over sheaves of paper almost spilling from the table.


    I cannot deny the small sting of envy when I look down over her shoulder, at the notes strewn with mathematical symbols and phrases I¡¯ll never understand. She¡¯s so much smarter than I am. A part of me wonders what my life would be like if I had gone to college. What career would I have chosen?


    I can¡¯t even fathom honest living anymore.


    She wraps her arm around my leg and squeezes my thigh, turning her head to give me a kiss on my stomach. I feel tightness in my chest that strengthens when Iy my hand on her gorgeous head. Words can¡¯t describe the happiness I feel when I see her ring gleaming on her finger, to know that she¡¯s mine.


    ¡°Vince, did you say you had to be somewhere tonight?¡±


    The happiness detes like a balloon bursting.


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    Her head turns as she looks up at me with a slight frown. ¡°Something wrong?¡±


    Oh, you don¡¯t even know.


    Instead, I smile at her. She nuzzles my stomach and her mouth kisses a trail up my abdomen. My cock stiffens in my pants and she smiles when she sees it. She stands up, hands around my waist.


    This fucking woman can get me hard so easily. Every stroke of her hands sets off a million nerve endings. She kisses my chest as her hand reaches around my thigh and strokes my cock. It hardens ufortably.


    ¡°God damn it, Ade.¡±


    I move her hand away from my cock, and she gives me a wide grin. It makes me want to shove my cock down her throat to get rid of her gloating smile. Grabbing her shoulders, I pin her against the wall as I seek out those gorgeous, full lips. My tongue sweeps across her bottom lip, and I pull down her jeans. My hand spreads across her smooth belly and I dip my fingers behind her panties. Reaching back, I stroke her soaking clit and she moans into my mouth.N?velD(ram)a.?rg owns this content.


    My woman is so hot for me that I can feel her wetness all over my hands. My two fingers tease through her folds and stab upwards. I feel her around me, as smooth as the inside of my cheek. She kisses me back desperately as I twist my fingers.


    Goddamn, it¡¯s hot.


    ¡°Vince-oh, Vince.¡±


    My cock is so hard in my pants that it¡¯s painful.


    I love her. I want to fuck her. I¡¯m going to tease her like she teased me.


    ¡°You want me so badly, don¡¯t you?¡±


    Her mouth opens in another gasp as I wrench my hand. ¡°Yes!¡±


    I chuckle in her ear, loving the way her body writhes against mine. Her nipples peak through her t-shirt and I¡¯m tempted to grab her tits, but I know that if I do, I won¡¯t be able to stop myself. My hand slides from her panties and she looks at me questioningly, her face flushed.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    ¡°I need to leave.¡± I can¡¯t quite suppress my grin as she grabs my waist.


    ¡°No, you can¡¯t just-¡±


    ¡°Yes, I can,¡± I say, shooting her a warning look.


    My fingers are still wet with her juice. I raise them to her face, and brush them against her lips. She leans forward and sucks them clean, probably hoping I¡¯ll break down and fuck her.


    I don¡¯t.


    When they¡¯re clean, I tap her face with my hand. ¡°Be a good girl and don¡¯t masturbate. Wait for me. If you do it anyway, I¡¯ll know.¡±


    ¡°Oh,e on!¡±


    I push her away gently and I hurry out the door. Self-control can only go so far, and I¡¯ve nearly spent all of mine.


    It¡¯s only till I¡¯m outside that I realized I forgot to tell her that I love her.

 2-5

    I drive past the restaurant before looping around to find parking.


    Fuck it. If they want to kill us, they wouldn¡¯t make it so obvious.


    I stop the car, and Jack and I share a look before we exit. Whatever happens, happens. Put everything behind you.


    Several streetmps are busted, shrouding the sidewalk in darkness. The low visibility makes me nervous. If I can¡¯t see anything, I can¡¯t protect Jack. I already almost failed him once at the restaurant. Jack and I don¡¯t say anything as we approach the darkened windows. Gambini¡¯s. I can barely make it out.


    I reach out and open the door, expecting a rain of bullets, screams, something, not a fat asshole patting me down for weapons. He takes my glock and finds the piece strapped to my leg.


    ¡°Vince-Jack,¡± the guard nods at both of us.


    I¡¯m too full of energy to say anything. I nod at him and step inside.


    It¡¯s a small restaurant. Looks homey-very traditional, old school Italian. The cliched red and white-checkered tablecloths cover the small tables. Wooden chairs surround the quaint tables. They look like they were made for smaller people, because Tony looks sorge in the chair.


    ¡°Hey guys, take a seat.¡±


    Tony, the fat fuck, sits behind one of the round tables. He doesn¡¯t even get out of his chair as we approach.


    Disrespectful fuck.


    His captains, who are seated around him, glower at me. George, the consigliere, sits at Tony¡¯s right. There¡¯s a bottle of wine on the table with nobel, a couple of sses and white tes. Big heaps of ziti sit on the te in front of Tony. He digs into it with his fork, his hand almost swallowing the silverware. It¡¯s so quiet, that the only sounds I hear are the tter of Tony¡¯s fork against the te and his chewing.


    To my relief, I spot John seated at the table with his protection nking him. Johnny French, they call him, or ¡°Frenchie¡± to his back. He isn¡¯t really French, but like most Italians who grow up in Montreal, he speaks it fluently.


    My feathers settle down somewhat. Good. I feel a little less naked.


    Johnny stands up and embraces Jack. ¡°How are you?¡±


    ¡°Not bad, not bad. This is Vince.¡±


    ¡°Ah, the hothead. I¡¯ve heard about you.¡±


    John winks at me, trying to get me to rx, but I can¡¯t.


    ¡°Rx, Vince.¡±


    I can¡¯t rx, not when I¡¯m staring at the man who almost had me and Adriana killed. Not to mention my mother, for fuck¡¯s sake. I¡¯m regretting the suggestion for this sit-down already.


    Jack grunts as he sits down in the chair. He¡¯s still in pain from the surgery, but he keeps his back straight. From the outside looking in, he looks just fine. It wouldn¡¯t do to show any of these assholes weakness. I take my ce behind him. One of the captains, a guy my age, sneers at me from across the room.


    Fuck you, too.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get down to business, shall we?¡± Johnny suggests.


    ¡°Thanks foring down, John.¡±


    The two bosses stare at each other from across the table.


    ¡°Okay,¡± Jack relents. ¡°I¡¯ll start. You came into our restaurant while we were surrounded by family members and you tried to end us. Well, we¡¯re still fucking here and we want an end to all of this violence. It¡¯s bad for business and it makes us look like savages to those in the old country.¡±


    Tony barely looks up from his te as Jack talks. He shrugs. ¡°And?¡±


    I¡¯m already bristling from his fucking attitude.Belongs ? to N?velDrama.Org.


    ¡°And what?¡±


    ¡°What, you¡¯re going to act like nothing¡¯s wrong while that piece of shit stands behind you? First, he beats the shit out of my made guy. Now his brother and another one of my guys are missing. I hear you, Jack, but we have a fucking problem as far as he¡¯s concerned.¡±


    I tense behind Jack as Tony¡¯s small eyes sh malevolently towards me.


    ¡°He disrespected our family at one of our games. He was violent towards one of the dealers. I was there and saw all of it. Vincent¡¯s response may have been a little overboard, but he tried to make it right.¡±


    Tony sneers at me. ¡°Look at you, hiding behind your fuckin¡¯ boss like a coward.¡±


    I move around Jack and lunge towards Tony, but Jack grabs my arm.


    ¡°I can fucking speak for myself, Jack!¡± I turn back towards Tony as hatred boils through my veins. ¡°Yeah, I beat the piece of shit to a pulp, and I¡¯d do it again. He was way out of line. Then when I try to make it right, you assholes threaten to rape my fiancee.¡±


    He has an irritating little smirk. I¡¯d like to reach across the table and rip his fat fucking head off.


    ¡°I had to retaliate. I could have killed him. I didn¡¯t.¡±


    I did him a fucking favor.


    Tony blinks. ¡°You broke half the teeth in his mouth. How am I supposed to respond when you keep attacking my guys? Two of them are missing.¡± He gives me a pointed re.


    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t know anything about that!¡± I snarl into Tony¡¯s face.


    Like fuck, I don¡¯t. I put several rounds in his chest and head. I¡¯d do it again, and again, and again. As for the asshole who threatened Adriana, he had it fuckinging. Fuck them all.


    One of the captains leaning against the wall, the one who eye-fucked me earlier, straightens. ¡°Watch your fucking tone, asshole.¡±


    Jack gives me a quelling look before he turns his attention back to Tony. ¡°Tony, we¡¯re not here to argue with you. We¡¯re here to put everything behind us and work towards a solution.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, ¡¯cause you¡¯re dying left and right.¡±


    ¡°Hey,¡± he snaps, looking angry for the first time tonight. ¡°I could have gone to friends of ours in the old country, but I didn¡¯t. I¡¯m trying to make things work between our families before we kill each other. This conflict is destructive to both of our businesses, whether or not you¡¯d like to admit it.¡±


    The New Jersey boss sets down his fork and shoves aside his te. One of his soldiers takes it away immediately as he takes a small sip of wine, stirring the ss and sniffing as if tasting Jack¡¯s proposal. ¡°I¡¯m willing to discuss terms with you, but I have two missing men, Jack.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and you killed several of mine, not to mention two of Vince¡¯s cousins.¡±


    That fat asshole looks up from the table, looking at me. A smile stretches over his grotesque face like a jack-ontern.


    My hands shake at my side.


    ¡°Adriana Baldino,¡± he says suddenly.


    ¡°What¡¯s she got to do with anything?¡± I ask defensively.


    Jack gives me another enraged look.


    ¡°Her family owes us a lot of debts, not to mention her father almost fucked us over when he agreed to testify.¡±


    The captain who told me to settle down shifts suddenly, I see his arms cross out of the corner of my eye.


    I don¡¯t like where this is going.


    ¡°I¡¯ll pay whatever debts she owes.¡±


    That can¡¯t be all.


    His eyes roll towards me. ¡°No.¡±


    The breath catches in my throat and my heart plummets. ¡°No? What do you mean, no?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s going to earn it herself, by working in one of my casinos. I hear that she¡¯s a good dealer, and I want her.¡±


    ¡°NO!¡±


    Jack stands up, his face furious as he grabs my arms and yanks me down into a chair. ¡°Sit the fuck down,¡± he growls in my ear.


    ¡°She has nothing to do with this!¡±


    The boss is unaffected by my rage. He calmly grabs a cigar from inside his jacket and lights itboriously. Sparks fly and smoke surrounds him, making him look like a cartoon viin. He waves the cloud of smoke away.


    ¡°I don¡¯t give a fuck. This is payback for your fuckin¡¯ attitude. In addition, you¡¯re going to give me twenty percent of your action.¡±


    Desperation crushes my lungs and I lean over the table, staring at him. ¡°Tony, since when do we bring women in this?¡±


    Ignoring me, he turns to Jack. ¡°She¡¯ll be working closely with one of my captains.¡±


    ¡°Who?¡±


    He gestures towards the man in the back, who told me off for yelling at his boss. He steps forward, wearing a fitted suit. Dark blue. Light brown hair and deep blue eyes. He looks a few years older than me. I haven¡¯t really heard anything about him.


    ¡°Carmine Lhesi.¡±


    The look he gives me is one I recognize. That dead-eyed, vacant look I see in so many of my soldiers. He hides his brutality well under his charming smile, which he gives to Jack.


    With the faintest note of a sneer, he talks to me, ¡°Your girl is quite popr. Stories about her reached all the way to Jersey. I¡¯m excited to meet her.¡±


    Something snaps. I lunge across the table, intent on punching every part of his body. The chair knocks to the floor and Carmineughs as I grab his jacket. Someone ms me in the sr plexus and all the air is knocked out of my lungs. They wrap an arm around my throat and yank me back. Stars burst in my vision as my air is cut off. The arm disappears and I gulp down air.


    ¡°Go fuck yourself!¡±


    Carmine sneers at my rage, adjusting his suit as his soldiers pull my arms back so far that I feel like they¡¯re going to pop out of my sockets.


    ¡°Get him the fuck out of here!¡±


    Tony looks bored as he waves off the men. ¡°Leave him be. Carmine, don¡¯t provoke him.¡±


    They let me go and I¡¯m ovee with an urge to reach into my jacket and blow that piece of shit to pieces, but they already frisked me. What the fuck is his problem?


    Jack tries to cover for me, apologizing for me as if I¡¯m a fucking five year old.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Tony. He¡¯s a bit of a hothead.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Aren¡¯t we all?¡±


    ¡°I think that¡¯s it then.¡±


    They shake hands and I swallow my disgust. I stalk towards the exit, my shoulders shaking as I take the weapons back from the guard. I¡¯m hoping that the asshole will follow me outside, but he doesn¡¯t. Instead, Jack joins me, gripping my arm painfully.


    ¡°What the fuck happened to keeping a cool head, eh?¡±


    I rip my arm out of his grasp impatiently, keeping my voice low because we¡¯re still in earshot of the restaurant. ¡°In case you didn¡¯t fucking notice, that asshole talked about making a pass to my fiancee.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t give a fuck what he said. Tony has a hard on for you, why are you making it so easy for him?¡±


    The pressure builds up in my chest until I can¡¯t take it anymore. ¡°We look like a bunch of fucking assholes! What the fuck is this deal? Bringing my fiancee into this?¡±


    Jack takes my arm again, forcing me to stop. I look around into his eyes, which look zed over with pain. I remind myself that he just got discharged and that he¡¯s probably still in a lot of pain. It took a lot out of him to meet the Rizzos, but it needed to be done. He couldn¡¯t look weak.


    ¡°I realized something when I got shot in that restaurant. I don¡¯t give a fuck about pride or ego-I just want to live. You want her to live, don¡¯t you?¡±


    The brief image of her lifeless body is enough to build pressure behind my eyes. ¡°Of course, I do.¡±


    When I look in Jack¡¯s haunted eyes, I know that I¡¯ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe, even if she hates me for it.


    ¡°We came very, very close to dying, Vinny. All of us-the whole family could be wiped out if we go to war with Tony. We need to make sacrifices to survive, or we¡¯ll all die.¡±


    I love her too much to take risks. It doesn¡¯t matter how many times she goes to work for Carmine, as long as shees home to me.


    I¡¯m still not okay with it.


    Finally, I nod at him. ¡°All right. I¡¯ll tell her.¡±


    But she¡¯ll never forgive me.

 2-6

    ADRIANA


    Maria grips my wrist in a vice-like hold as she steers me through the wedding cake store. Our appointment is in ten minutes, and Vince still hasn¡¯t showed up. Her face glows with excitement as she walks through the store, clutching a clipboard of wedding material to her chest. I didn¡¯t expect Maria to take her job as maid of honor so seriously, but she cut out and clipped hundreds of pictures from magazines and we analyzed hundreds of patterns and color themes that I like for over two hours. And this is just for the freaking cake. As far as cakes go-if I can eat it, I¡¯ll like it.


    But nothing is ever that simple.


    ¡°Did you ever decide if you wanted a traditional fondant or marshmallow fondant?¡±


    I give Maria a nk look. I have no idea what the fuck that is.


    She jumps suddenly. ¡°Oh, and there¡¯s also marzipan fondant. I personally prefer the taste of almonds to corn syrup, but that¡¯s just me.¡±


    Where the hell is he?Belongs ? to N?velDrama.Org.


    The ss door suddenly opens and I whirl around to see Vince, looking fresh in his ck suit. A dark look weighing on his face brightens slightly when he sees me. He walks inside and gives me a strained smile.


    ¡°Hey.¡± He wraps an arm around my waist and gives me a quick peck on my cheek.


    ¡°There¡¯s our angry young man!¡± Maria gives him a half amused, half exasperated look.


    He does look angry. Last night, he came home and didn¡¯t speak a word to me. I know better than to ask questions, but still. I can¡¯t help but wonder if I did something wrong. Then he notices me watching him and his eyebrows lift slightly.


    ¡°I¡¯m not angry, just busy.¡± He straightens his suit. ¡°Where is this broad?¡±


    I elbow Vince¡¯s ribs, but it¡¯s toote.


    ¡°I¡¯m right here!¡± A cheerful voice with a heavy, Jersey ent emerges from behind the counter. The woman belonging to the voice is dressed in a leopard print, skintight one-suit. She wearsrge, golden hoops for earrings and her face looks like she dived headfirst into a makeup bag.


    ¡°Holy shit,¡± Vince mutters under his breath.


    She extends a w-like hand to Maria, who takes it immediately. ¡°We¡¯re so happy you could fit us in for today. I¡¯ve heard so much about the bakery.¡±


    ¡°Of course! Are you the lucky bride?¡±


    ¡°No, I¡¯m the maid of honor,¡± Maria blushes slightly as she looks at me.


    She gestures to me with very long, fake fingernails. ¡°Hello, how are you? I¡¯m Danielle.¡±


    ¡°Adriana,¡± I say quickly, taking her hand lightly.


    Vince extends his hand. ¡°Vincent. Nice to meet you.¡±


    Danielle sps her hands together. ¡°Oh, you two are so cute. You must be so excited!¡±


    We¡¯re slightly at a loss for words.


    ¡°Yeah-uh, we are.¡±


    Maria¡¯s eyes bulge at me and her fingers whiten on the clipboard.


    ¡°-and I¡¯m really grateful that you fitted us inst minute.¡±


    ¡°No problem, no problem. Well,e in. We have a lot of different vors for you to try. This is so exciting!¡±


    She seems more excited by this than I am. Honestly, this is probably the part of wedding preparations that I looked forward to the most. Who doesn¡¯t like eating a bunch of free cake? The only one who doesn¡¯t look happy to be here is Vince, who sits down around the table with a long sigh, like it¡¯s a waste of his time.


    Geez. What¡¯s wrong with him?


    The table is already set up with at least two dozen small slices of cake. Some of the cake slices are red, some look like chocte, others are white. I salivate as Danielle ces sses of water and a fork in front of us. I grab mine eagerly.


    ¡°All right, so we have a lot of vors here and I really want you to try everything. The white cakes will have different vors than the chocte, and the same goes for the red-velvet. We have a chocte salted caramel, chocte strawberry, champagne strawberry, lemon vored cake with a lemon buttercream,vender¡­¡±


    And she goes on and on until I feel like my brain mightbust. She points at each slice as she names the vor, and I have to inwardly apud her for her amazing memorization skills.


    I stab my fork into a random chocte one and taste it. An explosion of rich chocte and slightly salted caramel melts over my tongue. It¡¯s delicious.


    ¡°Vince, you gotta try this one.¡±


    I take it with my fingers and bring it to his mouth. Vince looks forbidding, but I press the cake against his lips and he takes a bite. He chews and swallows, his shoulders lifting up slightly in a shrug.


    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s good.¡±


    Disappointed, I turn back towards the cakes. Maria shoves three of them towards me. ¡°Try them, Ade. I¡¯m thinking since you wantvender bridesmaid dresses, it¡¯ll look fabulous in your wedding photos. It¡¯llplete your theme.¡± She gestures towards the white cake with the light purple filling.


    ¡°Maddon, it doesn¡¯t all need to match for Christ¡¯s sake.¡±


    Maria shoots Vince a re as I try the cakes. They¡¯re much lighter than the chocte ones, and also very delicious. I can¡¯t decide. There are too many choices, and I¡¯m starting to get full.


    ¡°I like that one,¡± Vince says with a mouthful of cake, pointing towards a white one with bits of strawberry.


    ¡°Ah, the champagne and strawberry cake.¡± Danielle sweeps over to his side. ¡°You¡¯ve got to try more, though.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t need to try any more. I want this one.¡± He sets down his fork and shoves the piece towards me.


    I pop it in my mouth and immediately taste the champagne soaking the cake. The strawberries add a wonderful light taste to the richness of the alcohol. ¡°I like it, too. We¡¯ll do this one.¡±


    Danielle looks flustered. ¡°But honey, you haven¡¯t tried all of them yet. You should really-¡±


    Vince¡¯s face darkens and I know he¡¯s a few seconds from yelling at her, so I cut him off.


    ¡°Danielle, thank you so much for all the choices, but we¡¯ll take this one.¡±


    Looking slightly appalled, she shrugs and gives a small sigh. ¡°Well, okay. If you¡¯re sure.¡± She then reaches towards the counter to take a sheet of paper. ¡°Now, we¡¯ll have to talk about the design of the cake.¡±


    Maria leans forward, ¡°Adriana hasn¡¯t decided what kind of fondant she would like.¡±


    ¡°Oh, would you like to try some samples?¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡±


    Danielle whisks away to the back to get samples and I take the opportunity to lean closer to Vince, who looks vaguely annoyed.


    ¡°Hey, what¡¯s wrong with you?¡±


    ¡°Nothing, I just have a lot on my mind.¡± He forces a smile and rubs my back, but as soon as he thinks I¡¯m looking away, his face falls with discontent.


    ¡°Vince, you only get married once. If you didn¡¯t want toe here, you could have just said so.¡±


    He looks at me sharply. ¡°I do want to be here.¡±


    Then what¡¯s the problem?


    His face strains as he fights to keep whatever it is inside him.


    ¡°Well, here we are!¡±


    Danielle returns with a te of pieces of white and cream colored frosting. I hold one in my hand. It shines under the light.


    ¡°That one is regr fondant.¡±


    My first thought is that it¡¯s very gummy and sugary. Vince makes a face and I grab for the less shiny, but sticky fondant.


    ¡°That one¡¯s marzipan.¡±


    The sweet, nutty vor of almonds explodes over my mouth. It reminds me of those Almond Joy chocte bars.


    ¡°I like that one.¡±

 2-7

    The door swings open and ms shut so hard that I can feel the vibrations through my feet. We¡¯re finally back from the cake tasting, and Vince seems to be in a shitty mood. I wait for him to walk closer, to give me a beaming smile as his arm wraps around my waist. My skin tingles in anticipation, and then I get a closer look at him. The look on his face makes the blood drain from my limbs.


    Vince walks past me without a smile or a hint of happiness in his eyes.


    He gets like this sometimes, but I never know why. Since everything that happened, we agreed that the less I know, the better. I don¡¯t particrly want to know everything that he does, anyway.


    It still doesn¡¯t stop me from wondering.


    Vince takes off his leather shoes and hurls them down the hallway. Then he rips off his jacket and throws it on the floor as if it did him personal harm.


    ¡°Fuck.¡± His lips mouth the word several more times as he paces back and forth, his dark eyes shing.


    Okay. That¡¯s a bit more dramatic than usual.


    Then he walks to the freezer, pulls out the bottle of vodka he thinks I don¡¯t know about, and two sses from the cupboard. He pours two sses.


    His face steams with rage. The olive-skinned face that I know so well is clenched together. I can see him barely holding it in, probably for my sake. His ck, fiery gaze meets mine for a moment and I look away, heart beating fast. He grabs both sses, pounds one after the other, and then he sinks his face into his hands.


    Jesus.


    Nerves flutter in my stomach as I stand up and walk towards thepletely still Vince. I¡¯m almost afraid to touch him, as though he¡¯ll jump violently or snap at me. My hand lifts to his dark hair and I tremulously lower it until the fine strands tickle my palm.


    He doesn¡¯t move.


    I let it fall down his trim neck, to the slightly wavy bristles, and across his shoulder. I seize his shoulder muscle and I dig in hard with my thumb, trying to loosen him up. He finally responds, letting his hands drop and turning into my body. Still seated, he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me closer, and his head rests on my chest. My skin tingles when I feel his fingers lightly stroking the exposed skin on my lower back, but it¡¯s not sexual.


    For once, Vince seems vulnerable. Scared.


    Holy shit.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± I ask, hating how reedy my voice sounds.


    ¡°I haven¡¯t been telling you the truth.¡±


    I pull myself away from him, starting to feel a sharp, prickling sensation over my skin. He can¡¯t even look at me.


    ¡°I need to ask you to do something,¡± he says finally. ¡°Something that I promised I would never ask you to do again.¡±


    My mind runs, heart beating frantically. I think of gunfire smashing through the thick panes of ss at the restaurant, the loud cracks shattering the air, and blood. Thick pools of dark red.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°They want you to work for them. As a dealer in a casino.¡±


    Is that all? My heart still thuds like I¡¯m running a marathon. ¡°Who?¡±


    Vince lifts his head and begs me with his eyes. ¡°The Rizzo family.¡±


    The Rizzo family. The thugs who murdered my father and made my life hell. Heat flushes my face and I step away from Vince.


    ¡°How could you ask me that?¡±


    He looks miserable. ¡°Believe me, if I had a choice, you would never see them again.¡±


    ¡°What kind of trouble are you in?¡± My voice rises sharply, bouncing off the ceilings. ¡°I thought you said that everything was fine!¡±


    He lied.


    Vince¡¯s mouth presses into a firm line. ¡°It¡¯s not. It was never fine. We almost all fucking died weeks ago, remember? That¡¯s not going to go away because you or I want it to.¡±


    ¡°So you decided to lie to me?¡± I rip my hand out of his grasp as hot anger bubbles in my chest.


    He stands from the stool. ¡°I wanted to keep you the fuck out of it. That¡¯s why I lied. I did everything I could so that I could protect you and I tried fighting against it, but I have no control over Tony. He¡¯s determined to punish me, and this is how he¡¯s doing it. You¡¯re a small piece in this whole thing, but you¡¯re the piece they want. They want you to work until you pay off your father¡¯s debts. They won¡¯t take my money.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t fucking believe this!¡± I return the angry look on his face. ¡°Why should I be responsible for my dad¡¯s debts? I haven¡¯t done enough supporting my mother half my life? Why do we have to do this?¡±


    ¡°Because if we don¡¯t, they will kill us all.¡±


    I stumble back from the gravity of his words. I¡¯m overwhelmed, I¡¯m angry-


    ¡°Jack is desperate for a truce,¡± he sighs. ¡°Tony came up with these terms and wouldn¡¯tpromise. I don¡¯t really have a choice. They still don¡¯t know about those two guys who showed up at your mother¡¯s house.¡±


    Only Vincent¡¯s hands running up my arms make me feel like my body is still capable of warmth. His fingers run over my arms lightly before they curl around my biceps. I can already feel my anger with him melting away.


    He¡¯s right.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know-¡±


    ¡°It won¡¯t be that bad.¡±


    He leans in slightly and kisses my forehead. The heat of his lips makes my breath quicken, and then he does it again and I shudder.


    ¡°It¡¯s in a casino. It¡¯ll bepletely safe, unlike the bullshit we had at my card games.¡±


    Like anywhere is safe. ¡°A mob-owned casino,¡± I remind him. ¡°Might as well hold a billboard to the FBI.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not owned by-oh, fuck.¡± His eyes widen suddenly and his hands tighten on my arms. I feel fear transferring from the bruising grip of his fingers to my heart like an electrical impulse.


    ¡°No one knows that the FBI is tailing you. Not Jack or anyone else. If they knew-if they found out-fuck.¡±


    Jesus.


    The same bastards who killed my father will kill me. I can see it written all over his face.


    ¡°Oh my God. I¡¯m going to be sick.¡±Belongs ? to N?velDrama.Org.


    Turning away from him, I slip off the stool and head straight for the door. Violent images and sounds churn through my head. I gulp down air. Everything¡¯s smaller. Dizzy. I need to get out.


    ¡°Where the fuck do you think you¡¯re going?¡±


    His raised voice follows me as I stumble down the hallway, but for once he doesn¡¯t follow. I grab my coat from the closet and m the door on my way out.


    When I¡¯m downstairs and breathing in the crisp air of the Upper West Side, I feel a little better. I need to get away from all the madness, just for a little bit. Vince will understand.


    Heaviness fills my chest as I walk down the quiet streets. Why am I such a coward? Why can¡¯t I just deal with it like he does? I know I¡¯m not perfect, but he loves me. I never get to show him how much I love him, too.


    I¡¯m not as strong as he is.


    ¡°Adriana.¡±


    My scream slices through the night as a man stares at me through a car window. A ck car rolled up beside me without me even noticing. The man raises his eyebrow as I clutch my chest, which feels like it might explode.


    ¡°You scared the shit-¡±


    ¡°Sorry-¡±


    ¡°-out of me.¡±


    He smiles apologetically and shrugs. Who the hell is he?


    ¡°I¡¯m Jamie. The boss would like a word with you, if you don¡¯t mind.¡±


    ¡°Jack?¡±


    The passenger window on the Mercedes rolls down and I see Jack¡¯s venerable face staring at me impassively. ¡°I just want to talk. It¡¯s about Vince.¡±


    Another painful thud against my ribs makes my voice crack. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Come inside, please.¡± This is not an invitation I can refuse.


    Even though I don¡¯t trust this asshole, for once I¡¯m eager to hear what he has to say. Does he have some way out of it? Something that will fix it all?


    Trembling, I reach for the door handle and open it, stepping inside as Jack moves into the car.


    Once I close the door, I shudder in the dark interior.


    ¡°Go,¡± he says to the driver.


    My hands il out as it suddenly moves forward. ¡°You didn¡¯t say we were going anywhere!¡±


    Jack¡¯s face looks grim. ¡°We¡¯re going to meet someone. Tony Rizzo, the boss in Jersey. You know him?¡±


    I know of him. Based on my history with the Rizzos, I have no desire to speak to him, much less be in his presence.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    Yellow light slides across his face ominously as he shakes his head. ¡°I don¡¯t know yet.¡±


    Well that sounds fucked.


    ¡°Vince doesn¡¯t know where I¡¯m going.¡± I dig into my purse for the phone, suddenlypelled to tell my fiance that his boss just abducted me, but he grabs my wrist very much like how Vincent grabbed mine. His grip is surprisingly strong for such an old man.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, honey, but Vince can¡¯t know about this. Not yet, at least.¡±


    The world shrinks around me. My legs feel trapped against the car seat in front of me, and the walls squeeze. All the windows are closed in the car, and I suddenly have the urge to roll them down. Can¡¯t breathe.


    I manage to gasp out a question, ¡°Why not?¡±


    He ignores my question. ¡°Just pull up here, Jamie.¡±


    The driver stops the car and my stomach roils as Jack waits for me to get out. I open the door and spill out, stumbling a little. Maybe there¡¯s a subway nearby, and I can make a break for it.


    But I¡¯ve tried outrunning them before.


    We¡¯re somewhere on Canal street, the part of Chinatown with all the counterfeit purse shops. My head reels with the strangeness of it.


    Jack palms my back as he moves forward, looking quite nervous himself. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s gotten the boss of New York City so wound up, but it doesn¡¯t seem like he¡¯s against me. He seems like an unwilling participant.


    I hope.


    We enter a brightly lit shop filled to the brim with counterfeit Louis Vuitton and Coach purses.


    What the fuck? He wants us to meet here?


    For a moment, I¡¯m tempted to stuff one of the purses inside my jacket.


    Jesus Christ, Adriana. I thought you got your shoplifting under control?


    A ck man sits behind the counter, looking bored as we huddle in. ¡°He¡¯s in the back.¡±


    ¡°Come on, sweetie.¡±


    Jack prods me with his fingers and I surprisingly move forward.


    Whatever. This is probably just a bizarre dream. I might as well go along with it.


    In the back room there are shelves and shelves stuffed with boxes of counterfeit purses, fake quilted leather, cheap stuff. A hulking man sits behind a table erected in the middle of all of it.


    Tony Rizzo.

 2-8

    I have a bizarre inclination tough.


    At the sight of me, he smiles cordially and motions for me to sit down. I take my ce dreamily, staring at a balding man with dark eyes and a big, Roman nose. Jack settles down next to me.


    ¡°How you doin¡¯? I¡¯m Tony.¡± He speaks with a strong Jersey ent.


    I take his proffered hand, confused by the warmth in his voice. He nods to Jack.


    ¡°Thanks foring, both of you.¡±


    ¡°Sure, Tone.¡±


    I look at Jack, who looks just as perplexed as I am.


    There¡¯s nothing but the sound of a fan¡¯s des slowly revolving above us with a slight humming sound. My eyes water from staring at him.


    ¡°I know Vince probably told you what I want you to do for me, right?¡±


    ¡°Y-yeah.¡±


    ¡°Listen, I¡¯m not interested in punishing Vince.¡± He smiles at me, and I notice one of his front teeth is crooked. ¡°What I want from you is something a little bit more sensitive. Something I couldn¡¯t talk about in front of Vince.¡± He shifts his massive bulk, sighing suddenly.


    My face feels hot. I feel like something¡¯s closing in on me. ¡°I don¡¯t understand why I¡¯m here.¡±


    The small eyes narrow at me. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you in a minute.¡±


    ¡°Um-okay.¡±


    There¡¯s a beat of silence where he stares at me, as if trying to evaluate whether I¡¯m trustworthy.


    ¡°I want you to get close to one of my captains, the one who will be working with you at the casino.¡±


    I swallow hard. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Get friendly with him. Gain his trust.¡±


    Jack¡¯s tone is suspicious. ¡°What¡¯s going on, Tony?¡±


    ¡°I think one of my captains is talking to the Feds, and I need someone to investigate him for me. His name is Carmine Lhesi. We¡¯ve suspected him for a while, but none of my guys have ever found anything on him. What I really need is someone who will exploit his weakness, someone like you.¡±


    Stunned, I look at his face for any hint of humor. Any sign that this is a practical joke. ¡°Me? What are you talking about? What could I possibly do?¡±


    I nce at Jack, and he looks just as dumbstruck as I feel.


    ¡°He¡¯s always had a bit of a blind spot when ites to broads, and you just happen to owe me a debt.¡± He smirks suddenly and I feel a rush of hatred for him. ¡°You¡¯ll work under him at the casino, get close to him, and who knows? Maybe he¡¯ll let something slip. What I really need is someone to search through his apartment while he¡¯s there. He¡¯s got to have a wire hidden somewhere.¡±


    ¡°How would I know what to even look for?¡±


    ¡°Look in his fucking phone. Get him to take off his clothes and look through them carefully.¡±


    A wave of hot rage crashes over me. Does he expect me to suck his cock and cheat on Vince? I don¡¯t know whether to p him or scream at him.


    ¡°You¡¯re the boss. Why can¡¯t you just order him to take his clothes off?¡±


    I meant to offend him, but he merely smiles at me. ¡°There are certain privileges that belong to made men. I can¡¯t just do that. Besides, his guard might be already up. I¡¯ve already had my guys search through his apartment several times when he wasn¡¯t there. Nothing.¡±


    How fucking convenient.


    ¡°She¡¯s engaged to one of my captains, Tony.¡± The edge in Jack¡¯s voice surprises me. At least someone¡¯s angry on my behalf.


    ¡°I won¡¯t do it,¡± I sputter. ¡°Never. Vince would find out, he¡¯d go nuts.¡±


    Tony reaches forward and pats my hand in what he must think is a sympathetic gesture. ¡°You¡¯ll have to break up with him. Just for a little while.¡±


    I snatch my hand away. I don¡¯t care if he¡¯s the boss of New Jersey. ¡°No fucking way!¡±


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t she just tell him that it¡¯s only temporary?¡±


    I re at Jack. Like Vince would ever agree to this.


    ¡°No. First off, he would never let her do it. Second, he¡¯s too emotional. He¡¯d ruin the whole thing. That¡¯s why he needs to believe this is real.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Tony.¡±


    I cross my arms firmly over my chest, ring at both of them. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter, because I¡¯m not doing it.¡±


    Tony¡¯s eyes snap towards me and the heat in them sends another jolt to my heart. ¡°Doesn¡¯t your mother live in Bushwick?¡±


    My stomach is cold.


    He gives me a grin, malice shining in his eyes. ¡°Bad area. Something awful could happen to her.¡±


    Like I give a fuck.


    But then a vision of my mom lying on the floor, dead makes the nausea double in my throat. I swallow hard as I look into his ck eyes. Eyes that remind me of tunnels.


    ¡°I don¡¯t c-care.¡±


    ¡°If you don¡¯t help me, well, something might happen to your mother. And maybe to your fiance. Who knows?¡±


    Jack ms his fist against the table and Tony merely nces at him.


    ¡°If you¡¯re making threats against my guys, we¡¯re going to have a fucking problem.¡±


    ¡°Please, give me a fucking reason to put a bullet in that asshole¡¯s head. You know that I have every right to get rid of him after everything he¡¯s done. And I know he killed those two guys. I may not have proof, but I know he fucking did it.¡±


    Jack stares back into Tony¡¯s eyes, red-face but determined.


    Holy shit, he¡¯s going to kill Vince.


    This is spiraling out of control. I don¡¯t want to be here. I want to be anywhere but here. The light in the room darkens and I blink rapidly, trying to get a grip over myself.


    ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll just go to the police!¡±


    Both men freeze when I say that. I didn¡¯t mean to say it-it just burst from my mouth.


    Shit.


    ¡°Are you fucking kidding me?¡± he says with augh in his voice.


    Jack opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.


    ¡°You¡¯re not giving me much of a choice.¡±


    He smiles his terrifying grin. ¡°If you mean that, then I¡¯ll kill you right now.¡± To prove it, he removes a small pistol from his jacket and points it at my chest. ¡°You better convince me that you didn¡¯t mean what you just said.¡±


    Thest time I stared into a gun, I was on my knees. The carpet burned my skin. Nicky was shot and two others were killed. Heat flushes my face and the air is thinner. I¡¯m not made for this. I¡¯m not Vince. I don¡¯t have one iota of his strength. I can¡¯t even fucking save myself, how am I supposed to save him? Then I look into his fat face and remind myself that he was probably responsible for my father¡¯s death.


    ¡°Your family killed my father. Go ahead and do it. I won¡¯t work for you.¡±


    I¡¯ve never said something so stupid in my life, but right now I¡¯m so angry that I don¡¯t care if I¡¯m dead.


    Tony grins at me, looking amused at my bravado.


    ¡°What if he gives you the name of the man who killed your father?¡± Jack asks, his grip on my knee is so forceful that I know there will be bruisester.


    He¡¯s trying to say: Shut your fucking mouth.


    Tony¡¯s small eyes squint at me. ¡°You¡¯re still upset about that? It was an ident.¡±


    ¡°Tell me who it was, and I¡¯ll do it.¡±


    ¡°Your life and Vince¡¯s life on the line aren¡¯t enough?¡±


    ¡°This is something I¡¯ve wanted for a very long time. It¡¯s the least you can do.¡±Belongs ? to N?velDrama.Org.


    He stares into my eyes, looking shocked. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll tell you, but not until you¡¯ve fulfilled your end of the bargain.¡±


    A shuddering breath leaves my mouth and I wipe my hands on my jeans. Jesus, I came so close to dying. I need a drink right now.


    ¡°What makes you think I can find out whatever it is you want me to find out? What makes you think I can even get close to him?¡±


    The sweet smile on his face ispletely at odds with the dead look in his eyes. ¡°Because you made a guy whose reputation was to stick his dick in everything that moved fall head over heels for you. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll do fine with Carmine.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not an actor. I¡¯m just a college student.¡±


    I can¡¯t do this. There¡¯s no way. I open my mouth to argue, but I know by looking into Tony¡¯s runty little eyes that it¡¯s no good.


    ¡°If you do this and you expose Carmine, we¡¯ll erase all the debts from your family, you¡¯ll know who was responsible for your dad¡¯s death, and you¡¯ll never hear from me again. I swear it.¡±


    ¡°And Vince?¡± I ask, my voice trembling. ¡°Will you leave him alone and stop hunting him down?¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± he says in a voice that¡¯s not at all convincing. ¡°I promise.¡±


    I know that I¡¯m one of those people he preys onpassionate, trusting people-idiots, in other words. The thought of anything horrible happening to my mother turns my stomach, but if anything happened to Vince I just don¡¯t understand how I¡¯d be able to go on.


    Jack refuses to shake Tony¡¯s hand as we leave, but I do it. It¡¯s another one of those gestures. A handshake seals a deal, which neither party can break. Those are thews of physics. I¡¯m desperate enough to believe that it¡¯ll mean something to this man.


    Yeah, I¡¯m an idiot.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be in touch, Ms. Baldino.¡±


    I leave the purse store and hold it all together, eyeing a clutch that I¡¯m almost tempted to rip off the hanger because I¡¯m so upset. I hold it together until Jack falls into step behind me and takes my arm, making me stop.


    ¡°Adriana,¡± he hisses in a low voice, ¡°you don¡¯t have to do this. We¡¯ll find some other way to settle things.¡±


    My lip quivers as I look into Jack¡¯s angry, worried face. ¡°Did you not look into that psycho¡¯s eyes? This is the only way,¡± I say miserably.


    I can¡¯t believe he¡¯s actually trying to stop me.


    ¡°We can hide your mother,¡± he suggests feebly. He doesn¡¯t mean it. He doesn¡¯t mean any of it.


    ¡°Oh, please. Like you wouldn¡¯t be d to see her gone.¡±


    He heaves a long sigh and I twist the engagement ring around my finger, and I look at it in the darkness. Even in the low light of the streets, it shines. Tears slowly fill my eyes until it¡¯s nothing but a smear of grey in my vision.


    My voice is so thick, I can barely sound out works. ¡°He¡¯s going to be so-How am I supposed to do this? How am I supposed to tell him that it¡¯s over?¡±


    I look at Jack pleadingly, but I can¡¯t make out his face. He¡¯s just a blur of colors.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, hon.¡± The softness in his voice somehow breaks through my armor. He pulls me into his chest and I can¡¯t help but burst into tears and cling onto his arms.


    This is so fucked up.

 2-9

    ¡°He¡¯s like a son to me. I don¡¯t like it either, but you have to make sacrifices for the family.¡±


    ¡°He would do the same for me,¡± I say fiercely, to myself more than to him. ¡°He would do anything for me. He¡¯s already done so much. It¡¯s my turn, now.¡±


    Jack pulls me from his arms gently. ¡°I¡¯ll handle Vince. I¡¯ll make sure he doesn¡¯t do anything stupid while you¡¯re-separated,¡± he adds finally.


    The pain from inside me twists my face, hammering between my heart. ¡°Can¡¯t we just tell him?¡±


    He shakes his head. ¡°Limey fuck that he is, Tony¡¯s right. Vince-he¡¯d never stand for it. He would start a war we could never win.¡±


    I know he¡¯s right. Vince has to believe we¡¯ve broken up, and he has to stay away for his own sake. I¡¯ll have to hurt him badly enough so that he¡¯ll want to stay away from me. It¡¯ll be worth it in the end, right? If he¡¯s alive? Even if he doesn¡¯t forgive me for what I did to him, for what I¡¯ll do with Carmine.


    Anguished sobs burst from my mouth as I cover my face, already feeling the burn of shame. Jack¡¯s heavy hand falls on my shoulder.


    A car rolls up to the curb and the window rolls down, revealing Jamie¡¯s face. ¡°Hey, everything okay?¡±


    No.


    ¡°Adriana, get inside.¡± Jack¡¯s hand slides from my shoulder as he walks in front of me to hold the door open. I climb inside the leather interior and frantically wipe my eyes.


    ¡°Take her back to Vince¡¯s.¡±


    Oh God, what am I going to say when I get back? How will I be strong enough not to break down and tell him everything? I just have to act upset, that¡¯s all. Christ, I have to think of an excuse for why I want to break up with him!


    As I leave Jack¡¯s car, his head sticks out the window. ¡°Adriana, I¡¯ll check in often to see how you¡¯re doing. Maybe I can coordinate with Tony so that you¡¯re not alone with him.¡±


    A swell of gratitude fills my chest. Maybe he¡¯s not a heartless bastard. ¡°Yeah, that would be nice.¡±


    He smiles and drives away, leaving me shivering in the street.


    My heart thumps faster as I climb up the steps to the apartment building, my legs dragging like lead. Dread pounds a sickening beat in my chest as I enter the elevator. The numbers increase steadily.


    I don¡¯t want to do this.


    They killed my fucking dad. They destroyed my family, and now they¡¯re taking him away from me. Fuck them! Fuck them all!


    You have to fucking do this, a vicious voice snarls inside my head. He would do anything for you-he already has. So quit whining, and suck it up!


    I imagine what he¡¯ll say, how furious he¡¯ll be.


    It¡¯s in his best interest. He¡¯ll thank me when it¡¯s over-when he realizes I¡¯ve saved his life.


    Wishful thinking.


    The elevator pings and I freeze as the doors open, and the dread drags me down again. I don¡¯t know how, but I walk outside and head towards our apartment.


    The door pushes open as I turn the lock, and I flinch as if I expect Vincent to pounce on me at any moment. The apartment is quiet, but I hear his footsteps. I see his dark silhouette at the end of the hallway. The ss behind him is filled with the gray skyscrapers, which lighten in the early hours of the morning.


    I want to run into his arms. Instead, I drop my purse and duck into the bedroom, avoiding him altogether. Without even bothering to undress, I slide under the steel blueforter and huddle on the side of my bed. I close my eyes, relishing the smell of him wrapping around me, but my eyes fly open when I hear him pause near the doorway.


    Please think I¡¯m upset.


    ¡°Where were you?¡± he says in a low voice.


    I don¡¯t answer, pretending to give him the cold shoulder. A stab of pain hurts my chest when I hear his frustrated sigh after a moment of silence.


    I hate this shit. I hate doing this to him.N?vel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.


    He gives up, tearing off his clothes with frustrated, violent movements. Then he slides into bed next to me, the bed jerks as he moves to his side, his back facing me. He makes no move to touch me. I turn around without being consciously aware of my movements.


    Heys there,pletely silent as his broad back expands with breaths. I want so badly to reach out and touch him, to wrap my arm around his waist and tell him that everything is okay between us, but I can¡¯t. A dull ache pounds, the emptiness in my heart growing like the distance between us.


    Before I can stifle it, a sob shakes from my throat and Vince turns around. His wide, ck eyes see my tortured face before I can turn around and hide it.


    Shit.


    ¡°It¡¯ll be okay, Ade.¡±


    He nestles close to me, pulling my head under his chin. My lips touch his chest and heat res through his skin, into mine. I lift up my head and kiss his throat, which vibrates under my lips.


    ¡°Adriana?¡±


    My head moves at its own ord and I kiss him. At first, his lips are firm against mine, as if he didn¡¯t expect it, but then they crush against mine. His arms tighten around me as I shift my body over his, and melt into him. A desperate voice screams in the back of my head.


    You¡¯re supposed to break up with him! Remember?


    It takes all of my resolve to push against his broad chest, ending the kiss. Fire zes in Vince¡¯s eyes, and darkness shrouds his eyes. A slow smile spreads across his face.


    ¡°You know how I feel about being teased, Adriana. I don¡¯t like it.¡±


    A shudder runs through me when his gritty voice hisses in my ears.


    God, no.


    Just don¡¯t look at him.


    His fingers dig into the back of my head painfully. ¡°When you¡¯re in my bed, you¡¯re mine.¡± His growling voice makes my skin heat.


    How can I hide from him how I feel?


    Hot lips seek out my neck, plucking my flesh. His teeth bite down softly at first, and then hard enough to make me yelp. Lowughter washes over me as my palms push against his chest, weakened by his kisses.


    ¡°Do you want me to stop?¡±


    It¡¯s another one of his games. I¡¯m supposed to say no. ¡°Yes.¡±


    My back arches as he nts another steaming kiss under my neck, and another over the swell of my breast. Against my will, a moan shudders from my lips.


    Another low chuckle makes my face heat.


    ¡°I think you¡¯re a liar.¡±


    Yes, I am a liar. And I¡¯m a terrible person. If I had one ounce of self-restraint. If I loved him at all, I would stop this. End it.


    ¡°Red.¡±


    Vince stops. His hands fall away from my hair and his head moves back. The monster burns with anger and confusion. ¡°Ade?¡± he says in apletely different voice.


    I turn away from him, heart hammering. ¡°Just leave me alone.¡±


    Another angry breath leaves his throat. ¡°Fucking Christ.¡±


    The sounds of the sheets being ripped back, his heavy footsteps, and the m of the door resonate through me. I hear them over and over again in my head,pensating for the gaping silence that seems to swallow me whole.

 2-10

    Tonight.


    I have to break up with him tonight.


    I don¡¯t think he has any idea. Where the fuck should I do it? A part of me is deathly afraid of his reaction, but I start work at Carmine¡¯s today. This needs to be done.


    Vince is out of the apartment, and for that I¡¯m grateful. It gives me time to think. I already have a suitcase packed with my clothes.


    I just need to call Maria, my former roommate at Columbia.


    The phone trembles in my hands as I dial her number, biting my lip hard.


    Don¡¯t pick up.


    ¡°Hey, you! I was wondering if you were ever going to call. I had so much fun at the cake tasting the other day!¡± Her surly voice garbles out of the speaker. ¡°How¡¯s Vince? You know, we really should think about floral arrangements for your wedding-¡±


    ¡°Maria, I¡¯m breaking up with him.¡±


    It breaks my heart to hear the shock in her voice, all the excitement about nning my wedding gone. ¡°You-what? Why?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just-it¡¯s getting too crazy. I haven¡¯t told him yet, but I was wondering if I could move back into the dorm.¡±


    ¡°Of course you can, but what the hell happened?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you all about itter. He¡¯s going to be back soon.¡±


    ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    There¡¯s a moment of silence.


    ¡°Not really.¡±


    My voice cracks for the first time during our phone call.This text is ? N?velDrama/.Org.


    ¡°I¡¯ll talk to youter, Maria.¡±


    She makes another cluck of sympathy. ¡°Well, okay,¡± she agrees in a depressing tone.


    The phone goes dark as I end the call, and I stare at it as if it can give me the answers I desperately need. Then it vibrates in my hand, and I almost drop it. The caller is unknown.


    I answer it. ¡°Hello?¡±


    A sinister, Jersey ent crackles through the speaker. ¡°Adriana, it¡¯s Tony.¡±


    Oh, fuck you.


    ¡°What?¡± I bark into the phone. ¡°He could be here at any minute.¡±


    ¡°You need to do it tonight.¡±


    ¡°I know, I was going to-¡±


    ¡°548 Oak Grove Lane. Bushwick-¡±


    ¡°Why are you giving me my mother¡¯s address?¡± My stomach turns. I haven¡¯t eaten anything all day except for several piping hot cups of coffee. I want a drink so badly I can taste it.


    ¡°To remind you what¡¯s at stake.¡±


    You are human garbage.


    ¡°I know what¡¯s at stake, thanks,¡± I snap into the phone.


    Why the fuck am I being so hostile? Do I not realize who this man is?


    ¡°Then why haven¡¯t you done it already?¡±


    I grit my teeth.


    ¡°I will. Tonight. It¡¯s not that easy, you know.¡±


    ¡°Well, I think it would be. Or perhaps you¡¯d like me to add to the list of people who would get fucked over if you screw this up? If you tip him off in any way, well, let¡¯s just say I might pay your mother a visit. And maybe Mrs. Cesare, too, since you don¡¯t seem to give a shit about your own flesh and blood.¡±


    Tears sting my eyes. What kind of animal would threaten a man¡¯s mother? ¡°Isn¡¯t that against your code?¡±


    ¡°Do it tonight at La Serva¡¯s. Some of my guys will be there, watching you.¡±


    The phone goes dead as I¡¯m still holding it to my face. It¡¯s hot against my skin, and my tears fall thick and fast.


    * * *


    ¡°What made you want to pick this ce?¡±


    His question catches me unawares as we walk towards the restaurant. It¡¯s a swanky ce in Midtown. Expensive. White tablecloths. Waiters dressed in suits.


    Oh, Jesus Christ. I want to cry. This is so not how I wanted to do this.


    ¡°Um-I heard it was good,¡± I lie quickly.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± he says, opening the door for me. ¡°It¡¯s a popr ce for friends of ours.¡±


    His arm wraps around my waist as we approach the hostess, and I don¡¯t think my heart can beat any faster when she shows us to a small table. There are couples seated all around us. It¡¯s a quiet, intimate restaurant. Low lit. Romantic.


    The perfectly wrong ce to break up with someone.


    I look around the sea of heads, trying to find a pair of men who look like they could be in the mob, but all I see are couples eating dinner. Vince pulls out my chair and I sit down, dread filling my stomach again. He sits into his chair with a sigh and I study his handsome features, suddenly obsessed with memorizing every detail: the ck wave of his hair, his gem-like eyes, so dark and bright at the same time, and that gorgeous dent at the bottom of his throat. He gives me a wide, happy smile as he watches me and I feel a sick wave of guilt.


    So when the fuck am I supposed to do this? Before or after dessert?


    The waitress appears before I can summon up the courage, and I order a ss of wine before Vince can object. He res at me as she returns, pouring the ss as I watch it greedily.


    The waitress leaves after pouring him a ss and I grab mine before he can do anything, and I take a huge gulp. Oh, God. It¡¯s like ecstasy. It¡¯s so delicious and it goes down so smoothly. It ttens my nerves almost immediately.


    ¡°You¡¯re not supposed to drink,¡± he says, glowering.


    ¡°I need it.¡±


    Vince¡¯s eyebrows narrow. ¡°So what¡¯s this about? You said that we needed to talk, which is usually code for something really bad. So talk.¡±


    I twist the ring around my finger, my nerves ramping up again. Vince¡¯s dark face looms in front of me as I try to scout the restaurant.


    I don¡¯t want to do this.


    Tony will kill everyone you love.


    The engagement ring falls on the table. I take it, my hand shaking, and drop it in front of him. Then I take another giant gulp of wine.


    ¡°What the fuck are you doing?¡±


    Look at him.


    He looks more angry than hurt. He probably thinks this is some sort of game-a ruse. I shake my head, willing tears toe.


    ¡°We¡¯re done.¡±


    A stunned silence follows my words, broken only by the waiter, who slinks up to the table.


    ¡°Can I get you any-¡±


    Vincent just shoots him a re that makes the waiter¡¯s face pale in fear, and he walks off.


    ¡°Like hell we are. I don¡¯t know what kind of sick game this is-¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not a game,¡± I say in a hollow voice. ¡°I¡¯m moving in with Maria and I¡¯m leaving you.¡±


    He looks like I just reached across the table and pped him. ¡°Is this because of the casino thing? I told you that I don¡¯t have a choice, Ade.¡±


    Keep it together. Don¡¯t fucking cry.


    ¡°I know it¡¯s not your fault, but I promised myself I¡¯d leave you if anything like this ever happened again. I don¡¯t want to be mixed in this anymore, I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    The horrible silence stretches between us, making me burn brighter as he sits there and says nothing. Then I finally can¡¯t take it anymore, and I look at him. His face is red, too, and flushed with anger.


    ¡°You came to me,¡± he says between his teeth. ¡°You said you didn¡¯t have a problem, that you could deal with it. Did I just imagine it when you said that weeks ago? When I saved your fucking ass from your cunt of a mother, and you told me you would never leave me?¡±


    I¡¯m so sorry.


    His outrage affects me, even though I don¡¯t mean the things I¡¯m saying.


    ¡°I-I lied,¡± I say, staring down at myp. ¡°I was afraid of you. I always have been.¡±


    The look on his face is worse than anger. His face flushes red with embarrassment and then twists in self-loathing. ¡°You lied to me all this time?¡± he asks in a small voice. ¡°Why?¡±


    Hurt him enough so that he¡¯ll nevere back.


    My voice rises in a sharp tone. ¡°You never gave me a choice. There was always something-your boss¡¯ threats, the FBI, the Rizzos just waiting for me to get out in the open so that they could rape me,¡± my voice trembles and I inhale a sharp gasp.


    ¡°I don¡¯t believe this.¡± He sits back into his chair, looking lost. It takes everything inside me not to take his hand, which rests on the table lifelessly.


    Then his ck eyes flicker to me, smoldering. ¡°If you leave, we¡¯re done. I told you in the beginning that I wouldn¡¯t be able to let you go, but I won¡¯t be with someone who is only with me out of fear.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that the point?¡± I take my purse and stand up abruptly.


    I hate myself.


    His eyes narrow as he watches me get up without a second¡¯s hesitation. ¡°It was about the money, wasn¡¯t it? You just wanted me to pay for your tuition. Gold-digging-¡±


    ¡°Fuck you,¡± I snap. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare call me a gold-digger. I never even got to finish my ssesst semester because of you and your fucking family.¡±


    ¡°No, fuck you!¡± he bellows.


    Half of the restaurant is tuned in to our snarling, ugly fight. Couplesugh behind their hands as they stare at Vincent¡¯s red face. I want to disappear. I pray that someone will burst into the restaurant and shoot me. Anything would be better than this.


    I¡¯ve seeded in humiliating him beyond redemption. He shouts something else at my back as I leave, but I don¡¯t hear it. I clutch my hand to my face, trying to stem the flow of tears. I scurry past the sea of bemused guests, who whisper and smirk behind their hands.


    As soon as I walk outside, my phone buzzes.


    Good work. You start tonight.

 2-11

    I arrive at my former dorm in a haze of tears, still wearing the dress I wore to dinner. Maria face whitens when I stumble inside, and she dissolves into tears when she sees me. Luckily, I had the foresight to drop my suitcase at her ce before I broke up with him. The dorm still looks the same, except Maria converted my bed into a surface to hold more of her clothing. She has imed more of the walls by posting photographs and band posters to the walls.


    I can¡¯t even fathom going back to his ce to get the rest of my shit.


    ¡°What the fuck happened? You were so happy!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± my voice croaks out.


    ¡°Did he cheat on you?¡±


    ¡°No!¡±


    ¡°Did he hit you?¡±


    I re at her. She shrugs her shoulders, wiping her face with a tissue.


    ¡°Why are you crying? I¡¯m the one who¡¯s not getting married anymore.¡±


    She wrings her hands hopelessly. ¡°I was so excited about it, and you two looked so happy together.¡±


    In a few hours, I have to get ready. I¡¯m so tired and unhappy that I copse onto my bed, which is a lot harder than I remember. My back protests immediately.


    ¡°We¡¯re just not right for each other.¡±


    Maria swivels in her chair, dressed in pajamas already. I¡¯m surprised she¡¯s not going out. It¡¯s a Friday, after all. She gapes at me, clearly unimpressed by myme excuse.


    ¡°You missed a lot of ss for him. I figured you were head over heels for the guy.¡±


    I don¡¯t even want to think about it.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about it. I¡¯ve got to get ready for work in a couple hours.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re working? Where?¡±


    I avoid her bright, curious eyes. ¡°Some casino near JFK.¡± It¡¯ll take over an hour just to get there by subway. Despite the circumstances, I feel a small thrill at the thought of being a dealer again. It¡¯ll be different thanst time.


    Then I remind myself why I¡¯m there in the first ce: to get close to Carmine. Close enough to get dirt on him that¡¯ll probably get him killed.


    Yeah, that ruins my spirits.


    ¡°You¡¯re working for them again? Jesus, Adriana!¡±


    I sigh heavily and my veins burn with the need to open the mini fridge and guzzle whatever alcohol she has kept in there.


    ¡°Hey, maybe we should hang out this weekend. Get your mind off things.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, sure.¡± I sit up from the rock-hard bed. ¡°I have to take a shower.¡± Avoiding Maria¡¯s sad looks, I slip into the bathroom and remove the dress from my bone tired body. I look at my face in the mirror.


    How did ite to this?


    * * *


    Bright, loud lights announce Worlds Casino, an unremarkable building pped with a sign that burns into the night. It¡¯s so bright that the light bleeds into the darkness and I can see it when I close my eyes. The entrance is bathed in bright purple.


    I push through the chipped, gilded doors and walk over the cheap carpet. The whole ce reeks of cigarette smoke and my lungs tighten. I try to resist the urge to cough.


    Rows and rows of slot machines sh their gaudy lights as they bing and ping, ying their ostentatious tunes. Down the massive hall, I can see craps tables, and even further, ckjack tables. Shiny ck globes above me watch everything I do. The whole ce is crammed with people, mostly the elderly, and college girls who look like they just turned twenty-one. As I approach the high stake tables, the clientele gets younger and more male.


    I scan the tables, searching for Carmine, who I have no idea what he looks like.


    ¡°Are you Adriana?¡±


    I turn around and see a guy my age with rolling ck hair, the sides shaved.


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°Come with me.¡±


    Dumbfounded, I follow him through a set of double doors, which leads me into the VIP section. It¡¯s much smaller here, and much more stuffy with cigar smoke. Men nk the doorways, patting their jackets as I enter. Guards are posted everywhere, but they look quite bored, almost as if they wish someone would start shit. I feel like I¡¯ve just entered another world, a tiny corner of this casino dedicated to mob activity.


    A man stands in the center of it all, watching all twelve or so tables. He must be the pit boss.


    ¡°Carmine.¡±


    The young man calls out to him, and he revolves on the spot, spotting me immediately. His face lights up with a smile and he walks over.


    My insides stiffen as a man in a handsome, dark blue suit walks up to me. He has chestnut brown hair and blue eyes, and he¡¯s older than Vince by a few years. I can see faint wrinkles near his eyes, which deepen when he smiles. A light sprinkling of stubble covers his cheeks, but all of it suits him. I feel like a young, silly girl next to him.


    ¡°I¡¯m Adriana.¡±


    ¡°Carmine,¡± he says in a cheerful voice. ¡°It¡¯s a real pleasure to meet you.¡±


    He takes my hand in his and shakes it firmly, never once breaking eye contact. My first impression of this man is that he¡¯s polite, handsome, and quite charismatic. I can¡¯t help but smile back.


    ¡°How are you doing this evening?¡±


    ¡°Pretty well. You?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m excellent.¡± He beams at me.


    I get the feeling that he¡¯s a happy-go-lucky guy. God, I already feel guilty.


    ¡°Let me show you where you¡¯ll be dealing.¡±


    He shows me to a deserted table and I automatically take my ce behind it. Carmine sits across from me and gives me a sad little smile.


    He leans in secretively. ¡°Listen, I know why you¡¯re here. Tony told me everything.¡±


    I seriously doubt that.


    ¡°You¡¯re not here by choice, but that doesn¡¯t mean that working for me has to be unbearable. I¡¯m a pretty good boss to work for. I¡¯m not gonna give you a hard time so long as you do your job. Okay?¡±


    My lips somehow pull into a smile as pressure builds in my head. He¡¯s nice. My insides harden when I think of Vince and his mother. I¡¯ll do anything to protect them. Even if it means I need to sacrifice someone else.


    How far I¡¯ve fallen.N?vel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.


    ¡°Sounds good, Carmine.¡±


    His fingers smooth over the felt. ¡°You¡¯ll be paid an hourly rate, plus any tips you get from customers. I take fifteen percent of your tips, and you¡¯ll get overtime pay during holidays. The dealer always hits on a soft seventeen. Gives the house a slight advantage.¡±


    My eyebrows rise. Fifteen percent? That¡¯s a lot better than I thought it would be. His tanned face breaks into another smile and I try to gauge him through his hooded eyes. Does he like me? I decide that I should take it slow. I¡¯m in no hurry to ¡®get close¡¯ to this man who I feel nothing for, but I think he would find it suspicious if a recently engaged woman started hitting on him.


    ¡°Well, I see customersing in. Gotta go.¡±


    He gives me a roguish wink and gets up from his seat to greet the new guests. I ster on a fake smile as they surround my table for ckjack. Carmine stands nearby, his eagle-like eyes watching me out of the corner of my eye.


    I wonder if the men at my table are connected somehow, or if they¡¯re just wealthy businessmen flying into New York who just want to blow off some steam. Two forty-ish men dressed in cks join my table with a giant box of chips. Three other join, immediately engaging me in small talk.


    The cards fly out of my hands. I love the suspense-the energy. I can feel it building in my body, healing me. All of my worries fade away, and all I focus on are the tiny printed spades and hearts.


    It¡¯s a casino, so there are several decks in the shoe. It¡¯s much harder to count cards, but I do it anyway to amuse myself. The chips fly towards me, and I pocket any tips I receive. People at the table make small talk with each other, and their bets get a little more extravagant as cocktail waitresses bring them free drinks. I watch as Carmine walks around each table, making sure each guest is having a good time, handling any issues orints thate up. I¡¯m trying to learn as much as I can about him.


    Then there¡¯s movement at the door and I look up.


    Oh, shit.


    Vincent.


    My heart pounds hard against my ribs when I recognize him, a mixture of relief and fear overwhelming me. It¡¯s only been one day, but I already miss him. I wonder how he¡¯s doing.


    He¡¯s standing there, as bold as brass, looking at me like he¡¯d quite like to strangle me or bend me over the poker table to fuck me. Who knows.


    Thest thing I need is Vincent causing a scene at my new job, but his head finally turns away from me towards Carmine, who heads him off.


    Fuck.


    They talk to one another in hushed tones. I can¡¯t conceal how awkward this is, and I¡¯mpletely distracted by his presence. So much so that one of the yers snaps at me.


    ¡°Come on, we¡¯re waiting here.¡±


    I smile painfully and return to the game. My eyes still flick towards them, and I think I see Vince¡¯s eyes ncing back towards me just as frequently. Suddenly, a cocktail waitress slides up next to him. She¡¯s dressed in a skimpy outfit and her hand rubs the back of his neck.


    When he gives her a polite smile, I feel my world crashing. My guts are ripped out of my body.


    He¡¯s mine. Get your filthy hands off him.


    He¡¯s not anymore.


    Suddenly, that realization hits me hard. I feel sick. The weak walls I built up for this copse, and an overwhelming wave of sadness crashes over me. I can¡¯t take it. All the stress burns in my chest like a cancer. And then a sob shakes from my throat and I¡¯m crying in front of my bewildered customers.


    Jesus. It¡¯s a nightmare, but I can¡¯t stop.


    Carmine notices me before Vince does, and then he turns away from the waitress to see me and his face falls. He looks like I¡¯ve just kicked him in the stomach.


    Carmine is there in seconds, beside me. ¡°What¡¯s the matter, hon?¡±


    This couldn¡¯t be going any worse. I wipe my eyes furiously, looking away from Vince. ¡°Nothing-nothing-¡±


    He looks from me to Vince and seems to understand with a single nce. ¡°Go take a break.¡±


    ¡°What? But I¡¯ve just started!¡±


    His hand falls on my shoulder and squeezes. His blue eyes wrinkle with sympathy. ¡°Adriana, you can¡¯t work like this. Go on in the employee¡¯s room. I¡¯ll be there in a minute.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡±


    I get up as Carmine gives me a grim nod and I practically run towards the break room. The noise of the casino drops away when the door shuts. Inside, there are lockers and a single table. I sit down and cross my legs, shivering in the cold.


    I have to pull it together and act like it doesn¡¯t bother me. He might even start seeing other women, who knows?


    Just the thought of it makes me sick.


    The scrape of the door makes me jump in my seat, and Carmine walks through, looking grim.


    I sit up straight. ¡°Carmine, I¡¯m so sorry. It won¡¯t happen again, I was just a bit upset.¡±


    He straightens his suit and takes a seat next to me. ¡°Stop apologizing. Vince told me you guys broke up. I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t know or I wouldn¡¯t have had him meet me here.¡±


    A frown spreads over his face as if he thinks it¡¯s his fault.


    ¡°He wasn¡¯t there for me?¡± I ask in a small voice.


    ¡°No, he was just here on business.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± I say, a little crestfallen. So he¡¯s already moved on.


    He gives me another sad smile and touches my shoulder while he takes a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and offers it to me.


    I¡¯m really struck by his kindness. I take it from him and stammer thanks as I dab my eyes.


    ¡°I know how you feel. Break-ups are always hard. I can¡¯t imagine breaking up with someone I was engaged with.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s really hard.¡±


    More than you know.


    ¡°When I was young, I was crazy about this one girl. No matter what I did, she didn¡¯t feel the same for me. I mean, I tried everything, but she could care less. It took me years to get over her. Sometimes, I wonder if I¡¯m really over her.¡±


    A muscle jumps in his jaw as he tells me this, and there¡¯s a faraway look in his eyes. Like he still thinks of her and misses her. It pulls at my heartstrings.


    It¡¯s strange to hear a stranger talk so openly, but there¡¯s something refreshing about that.


    ¡°I thought I loved Vince,¡± I tell him, folding his handkerchief over and over. ¡°I left him only a couple days ago. It¡¯s still hard to see him, even if I¡¯m better off without him.¡±


    Carmine makes an assenting noise in his throat. ¡°Yeah, he strikes me as a bit of a hothead. He told me to go fuck myself when I said that he shouldn¡¯te around here anymore.¡±


    Horrorstruck, I look at him above my hands, but he merely looks amused. ¡°I-I¡¯m sorry-¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t apologize for him, sweetie.¡± He pats my hand in a conciliatory gesture and gets up.


    ¡°Carmine-the girl who you fell in love with-do you still think of her?¡±


    He traces his finger over the table before he looks back at me. ¡°All the damn time.¡±

 2-12

    VINCENT


    Glittering cocktail waitresses strut by on stilettos, and aside from the music booming from the interior of the casino, it¡¯s not very noisy. The sound of chips shoved together and murmured voices raised and lowered in victory and defeat fill the small room. It¡¯s a big space, but my eyes scan over the heads immediately to look for her. The VIP room of Worlds Casino is a mixed bag of gangsters and wealthy men. I stand in the midst of twelve or so poker tables. Most of them have men as dealers behind the tables, wearing suits, except for one.


    A stunning woman sits behind a table of admiring men. Adriana wears the dark blue dress that I bought her. It¡¯s one of my favorites. It has a diving neckline, which gives a nice view of her cleavage. Her long hair is tied up in a knot with a few dark tendrils curling over her creamy breasts. The dark lipstick makes her look like a cruel, Italian goddess. She smiles at something one of the yers says and then she looks up and sees me. She freezes with her mouth slightly parted in shock.


    We¡¯re not fucking done, sweetheart. Not by a long shot.


    She blind-sighted me at the restaurant. I didn¡¯t get a chance to react to what she said. I¡¯ve had a night to think about it, and I¡¯ve decided that it¡¯s all bullshit. She didn¡¯t enjoy being with me? What about the time when I made her moan so loudly that the neighbor pounded on her bedroom wall? It wasn¡¯t real, my ass.


    We¡¯re done when I say we¡¯re fucking done.


    I take a step forward, not sure whether I¡¯ll kiss her or yell at her, but a man stops my path. Carmine, dressed in one of his preppy suits, blocks my way.


    ¡°Vince, good to see you.¡±


    I tear my eyes away from her to look into his shit-brown eyes. ¡°I can¡¯t say the same.¡±


    Heughs. ¡°You are as charming as ever.¡± He holds out his hand expectantly.


    Reaching into my jacket, I pull out the envelope stuffed with cash.


    He takes it and thumbs through the contents.


    Like I¡¯d try to stiff him. Asshole.


    ¡°I heard you and Adriana were on the outs. Don¡¯t think about talking to her right now. I don¡¯t want any drama at my VIP games.¡±


    Like you can fucking stop me. ¡°It¡¯s none of your fucking business.¡±


    Suddenly, I feel someone touching the back of my neck and a female body pressing into my side. I turn into her arm, convinced it¡¯s Adriana. She¡¯se back to her senses, finally. But no, it¡¯s the fucking cocktail waitress. A flood of disappointment sends me crashing. I give her a strained smile and I step away.


    A woman¡¯s muffled cry makes my head turn. Adriana¡¯s bends over the table with her head in her hands as her shoulders shake. The yers look at each other ufortably as their dealer cries. They try to give her napkins, which she ignores.


    What the fuck?


    I don¡¯t understand what just happened. Did one of the yers say something?


    Or is it because of me?


    Some sick part of me can¡¯t help but feel a little relieved that she might still care, but I feel it at the same time as the knife twists in my abdomen. I want to destroy whoever hurt her.


    Carmine walks over there and touches her shoulder, his hands all over her as he whispers something in her ear.


    Fuck you.N?velD(ram)a.?rg owns this content.


    She gets up and disappears behind the Employees Only door. Carmine sits down at the table with a genial smile and quickly deals out cards.


    ¡°Sorry, folks. She just broke up with her fiance, so she¡¯s a little upset.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s single?¡± One of the guys leans in with a wide smile, joking.


    mes of heat shoot up my chest.


    No, she fucking isn¡¯t.


    Carmineughs. ¡°Yeah, I guess so.¡± He clears his throat. ¡°All right, guys. Here¡¯s the river.¡±


    After he finishes the game, he returns to my side. He has the balls to look pissed.


    ¡°Listen, Cesare, I think it¡¯s best if we do our business somewhere else from now on. I can¡¯t have you upsetting my dealer.¡±


    I bristle. ¡°Oh, she¡¯s your dealer now, is she?¡±


    He grins at my anger. ¡°Yeah, she is. If you have a problem with that, take it up with Tony. From the look on her face, she doesn¡¯t want you around, anyway.¡±


    That strikes a nerve. I¡¯m so close to smashing his face in. I can visualize my fist cracking over his skull, and kicking in his ribs when he¡¯s on the ground.


    ¡°The only way we¡¯ll have a problem is if you touch her again.¡±


    His smile doesn¡¯t falter. ¡°You can fuck off with your attitude. I¡¯ll do whatever the fuck I want with her. She¡¯s not your fiancee, yourare, or anything. You have no authority over me, so you can shove your alpha-male posturing bullshit right up your ass.¡±


    I¡¯ll fucking kill you.


    I know what he¡¯s doing. He¡¯s trying to piss me off, and he¡¯s not even being subtle about it. Any decent wiseguy knows to stay the fuck away from another guy¡¯s ex, except this asshole. I give him onest smile to let him know that I¡¯m on to him, and then I turn my back on him.


    I don¡¯t know why the fuck he¡¯s trying to rile me up, but I won¡¯t let him get to me. I won¡¯t.


    I m my fist into the double doors, making them fly open as I leave the VIP room.

 2-13

    The grimy windows block out most of the sun in the dimly lit deli. We¡¯re holed up in the back, me and the guys. I¡¯m trying to go through my books, looking down the list of names on the sheet of paper, which rests on the long, wooden table with a pastrami sandwich sitting on a te next to me. Even though I only had a cup of coffee for breakfast, I have no taste for food.


    I came home this morning to see that Adriana cleared everything of hers out of the apartment.


    What the fuck happened to us?


    If I wasn¡¯t tied up with work, I¡¯d march over there and I¡¯d drag her back to my ce because none of this makes sense. She can¡¯t just leave me on a whim, especially when I¡¯m the only man standing between her and Jack¡¯s wrath.


    The guys shoot pool behind me, talking in low, hushed voices as if I¡¯m on my deathbed. It makes me want to strangle someone. Nicky and Frank, two of my soldiers, keep shooting me sympathetic looks as I sit there. I don¡¯t know how it got out, but everyone already knows that Adriana moved out. This fucking ce is worse than a sewing circle. Fucking gossips.


    ¡°Vinny, There are plenty of other broads out there.¡±


    None like her. No other woman has ever made me so fucking crazy. I look at the other guys¡¯ wives and I don¡¯t see what I¡¯m missing. I never wanted a wife like that-I knew that I would cheat, but I never looked at any other women when we were together. Why would I?


    ¡°Fuck!¡± I shove the te away and stand up.


    The short man shrugs, still holding onto his pool cue. ¡°I don¡¯t understand it. She always looked happy when she was around you, especially after all that stuff with her mother.¡±


    I narrow my eyes at Nicky, warning him to shut up. We can¡¯t discuss that in front of anyone, especially when there might be a rat in my crew. Fuck, Ipletely forgot about it.


    ¡°Yeah, I don¡¯t get it.¡±


    One of the younger guys pushes himself off the wall. ¡°Forget her, Vince. She¡¯s a cunt.¡±


    I look at him, feeling a hot surge of anger in my chest. ¡°What the fuck did you say?¡±


    He shrugs unconcernedly, not quite noticing the rancor in my voice. ¡°She¡¯s a cunt.¡±


    He tries to raise his hands, his eyes round when I vault over the table. The guys scream at me.


    ¡°Vince, don¡¯t!¡±


    In a few seconds, I wrap my hands around the prick¡¯s throat. He screams as I m his head against the wall, choking off his yells.


    ¡°Stop! What the hell¡¯s the matter with you?¡±


    A hand clenches my shoulder, but I elbow it away. ¡°Fuck off!¡±


    ¡°Vince, c¡¯mon. That¡¯s enough!¡±


    The others hang around me, shouting in my ears as a faint white noise buzzes in my ear. The boy swings at me, and I let go of his neck long enough to bury my fist into his stomach. He doubles over, crying out in pain. Angry red marks wrap around his neck and a cold feeling slips down my stomach. My anger dissolves like dry ice.


    What¡¯s wrong with me?


    ¡°Vince, what the fuck?¡±


    ¡°Jesus.¡±


    The guys grab my arms before I can do more damage. He writhes on the tiled floor and cries like a little bitch as I stand above him.


    Frank gives me a wide-eyed look that makes me feel like a psycho.


    What the fuck am I doing?


    ¡°Jesus Christ, Vince.¡±


    I turn away from the crumpled boy, raising a shaky hand to my face. ¡°Take him to the fucking hospital.¡± I reach into my pocket and grab a fistful of cash, cramming it into Nicky¡¯s hand.


    Then I walk outside to breathe.


    I¡¯m really losing it because of some broad. I feel out of control. Angry. Lost.


    I need to focus on what¡¯s important-the informant in my crew. I need to follow each of them. Jack still has no idea that the Feds talked to Adriana, and if Tony finds out, she¡¯ll be dead for sure. She might want me out of her life, but she has no idea how much she needs me right now.


    * * *


    My car weaves in and out of traffic as I follow Paulie around New York. Tailing someone in this city isn¡¯t easy, but it has to be done.


    Someone¡¯s been talking, and I need to find out who it is. After which, I¡¯ll get permission from Jack to whack the son of a bitch.


    Out of all of them, I suspect Paulie the least. The man is such a hardass for the rules. That¡¯s why he was made captain. There are dozens of possibilities. The rat might not even be in my crew, he could be in the other captains¡¯ crews. I have my work cut out for me, and not being able to talk about it with the others makes this even harder.


    I pull up a block behind Paulie as he visits theundromat. Theundromat, for God¡¯s sake. He doesn¡¯t even trust hisare to pick up hisundry, that¡¯s how far his stick is up his ass.


    This is useless. I would have to search his apartment to find out for sure. The feds might already know that I¡¯m on to them. They probably are.


    Fuck.


    I start the car and pull away from the curb. Then I take the bridge towards Brooklyn.Belongs ? to N?velDrama.Org.


    I¡¯m such a jerk-off for what I¡¯m about to do.


    Jack¡¯s warning is stuck in my head, and I feel like I need to do something to warn her mother. I nned this days ago, but I got distracted with all this bullshit over Adriana. Seeing Adriana in tears at Carmine¡¯s game reminded me of how horrible I¡¯d feel if something happened to her mother. Even if that bitch did try to kill me.


    After a smoldering drive across the Brooklyn Bridge, I park outside her shit-hole of a house. The brick steps are crumbling and the frontwn looks like a jungle. When I get out and march up to her front door, I don¡¯t even bother knocking. I kick open the door and it flies inward easily, as if it¡¯s been kicked in many times before.


    ¡°Oh, God! No!¡± Her voice screeches like a banshee.


    My eyes burn as I step inside the house, almost as if I expect the whole ce to be doused in piss. I snap my head towards the source of the scream and grab the woman fleeing the living room, and I hurl her back inside.


    ¡°Rx, I¡¯m just here to visit.¡± I take a good look at her heavily bruised arms and legs. ¡°Ah, shit.¡±


    Mrs. Baldino cries when she recognizes me, pulling down her filthy shirt as if I might tear it off. ¡°Don¡¯t kill me!¡±


    ¡°Why so worried?¡± I ask her, leaning over her trembling body. ¡°You haven¡¯t been talking to anyone, have you?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she moans.


    A quick search of her eyes makes me nod in approval. ¡°What are all those bruises from?¡±


    She sits up. Jesus, she looks like shit. Her hair is overgrown, half of it blonde, the other half a dark brown. Her fingernails look picked raw.


    ¡°I thought you sent them.¡±


    I set my mouth in a firm line. ¡°No. I guess the Rizzos have been calling.¡±


    She nods. ¡°They want to know what happened to Richie and that other guy.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you mean the two guys you called over here to kill me?¡±


    That makes her flinch.


    Despite how much I despise her, I still feel a bit guilty looking at all those bruises covering her thin arms. Maybe because she reminds me a little of Adriana.


    ¡°Listen, you need to get out of town. The sooner, the better.¡±


    She gives me a mournful look. ¡°This is my home.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, did the bruises on your arms not give you a clue? They¡¯re going to kill you soon if you don¡¯t get out now. I can¡¯t hold back Jack any longer.¡±


    Her eyes well with tears. ¡°Where am I supposed to go?¡±


    Sighing, I reach into my pocket and grab a roll of cash. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. Just get out of here.¡±


    ¡°How¡¯s Adriana?¡±


    I look down at her, seeing her brown eyes swim with tears. I notice that her eyes are exactly the same shape and color of Adriana¡¯s. This does not help.


    ¡°She¡¯s all right.¡± I sink down to my knees and hand her the whole roll. ¡°Get out of town. And buy yourself some fucking clothes.¡±


    ¡°Please take care of her for me,¡± she says in a watery sob. ¡°Please, Vincent.¡±


    For some reason, her grief hits me hard. A knot twists in my stomach and I bury it under a bristling sneer. ¡°Why the fuck do you think I¡¯m here?¡±


    I stand up and walk out of there, too upset to stay there a moment longer. I can still hear her sobbing ringing in my ears, and it reminds me of myself, of my own grief over losing her.


    I¡¯m going to see her.


    My mind is made up the moment I slip into my car. I¡¯ll drive to her campus and break down her door if I have to, but we¡¯re having a fucking chat. I¡¯m not going to be able to sleep until I do. My car throttles back over the bridge as I drive towards Columbia.


    When I park the car and walk through the campus, I remember when we first started dating. When I told her she would be better off marrying a medigan, but she wanted me anyway. My chest tightens when I think about it.


    I wanted to fuck her the moment I met her, but I tried to keep a respectable distance because she was working for me, after all. And usually I fucked them and got tired of them. All of those girls from respectable, Vittorio family members bored the hell out of me. I was supposed to marry one of them and have kids. I suppose it would have been fine if I hadares on the side, but I watched my ma cry to herself so many times when she waited for my father toe home, knowing he was out drinking and whoring.


    I couldn¡¯t do that to a woman, so I resigned myself to a bachelor¡¯s life.


    Then I met her and she changed everything. The night I took her home, I was hooked. She was this incredibly sexy, headstrong girl, who would also drop to her knees at mymand and let me do anything I wanted. Who let me fulfill my darkest fantasies.

 2-14

    And then I got to know her. She was so independent, so different from all the other girls. She didn¡¯t care about jewelry. She didn¡¯t want gifts. Adriana always told me they made her feel like a ¡°kept woman.¡± Whatever the fuck that meant. Still, she would always smile when I got her something and thank me profusely. She just wanted to provide for her mother and finish her education. I admired that. She was loyal to a fault, even though it burned her at times.


    My head fills with all these things as I waltz into her dormitory. The guard hardly lifts her head as I stride up the stairs. The security in this ce is a joke.


    Minutester, I¡¯m at her dorm, praying that Maria isn¡¯t there. Usually, I would just let myself in, but I twist the doorknob and it¡¯s locked. I knock several times.


    The door opens and my heart squeezes. She stands there, dressed in pink pajamas even though it¡¯s past noon. Her long, brown hair is a bit tousled, like when she gets up immediately out of bed. Her eyes are puffy and red from crying, but the tears make her eyes burn brighter. She looks beautiful, even when she¡¯s upset. It takes my breath away for a moment, and I need a second to remember why I¡¯m so pissed at her.


    ¡°Can we talk?¡±


    ¡°Vince,¡± she says in a hushed voice. Her eyes are wide, but then she blinks and they close away, like shutters over windows. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be here.¡±


    ¡°I just want to talk to you. You never really gave me a chance to say what I needed to say.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± she says, rolling her eyes.


    That pisses me off. I step inside much more quickly than she anticipates, and then I corner her against the wall as my skin radiates heat.


    ¡°Don¡¯t fucking treat me like I¡¯m your asshole ex. I¡¯ve been nothing but good to you, Adriana. I deserve your respect.¡±


    Tears glisten in her eyes.


    I already feel bad for scaring her, and I feel even worse when everything inside me wants to bend her over my knee for doing this to me and spank her until her ass burns bright red. She looks so perfectly vulnerable.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Vince,¡± she says as a tear slips down her face.


    That¡¯s an odd response.


    Still, the air squeezes from my chest when I see her looking so upset. I take her head in my hands and she blinks rapidly as I wipe her tears from her face.


    ¡°You don¡¯t look very happy to be on your own.¡±


    Adriana bites her shaking lip as even more tears fall down in angry red streaks. ¡°T-that¡¯s because you won¡¯t leave me alone.¡±


    Her feeble voice makes me smile for the first time in days.


    ¡°You¡¯ve always been such a bad liar, Ade. You don¡¯t want me to leave you alone.¡±


    ¡°I-I-¡±


    I ce my finger on her lips to silence her. ¡°I don¡¯t believe that you faked every moment with me. I know you meant it when you said you loved me.¡±


    The tears fall thick and fast. She tries to hide her face, but I take her chin and give her a small kiss. She sighs when I pull away and her face smooths over. How could I ever doubt myself? I know this woman. I know the way she thinks. Even now, she¡¯s giving herself away. She¡¯s leaning into my body. Taking her in my arms, I maneuver her to the couch and pull her onto myp. She curls up against my chest like nothing changed between us.


    I sigh into her hair. ¡°What¡¯s going on with you?¡±


    Adriana sits up, fixing me with a pained look. ¡°I meant what I said. I don¡¯t want to see you anymore.¡±


    ¡°Adriana-¡±This text is ? N?velDrama/.Org.


    ¡°Vince, please just listen!¡± She swallows hard and continues in a lower voice. ¡°You¡¯re right. I do love you.¡±


    Heart racing, I try to keep quiet even though I just want to kiss her.


    ¡°I love you so much that it hurts everyday to be away from you, but I can¡¯t keep living like this.¡±


    My mouth is dry. ¡°Like what, babe?¡±


    She gasps in a high voice as tears thicken her throat. Her eyes look like dark gems. ¡°You¡¯re just going to end up dead or in jail one day. You know it¡¯s the truth.¡±


    My eyes squeeze shut. I rarely think about my own death, and I hate that she does. As for jail, yeah, that¡¯s always a possibility. But what can I do? It¡¯s part of the life.


    ¡°You can¡¯t think about stuff like that.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t help it!¡± She pushes herself off my legs, away from me. ¡°I don¡¯t want to have to wonder whether you¡¯re going toe home or not. And I do not want my future jeopardized because of all the illegal shit I¡¯ve done. No more.¡±


    For once, I¡¯m speechless.


    I want to fight against it. What she says breaks my heart, because it¡¯s true. The other women-the mob wives, they put up with it because they get taken care of. They get jewels and clothes and whatever the fuck they want, but Adriana was never really into that shit. She loved me for me, without all the perks. That¡¯s why I¡¯m crazy about her. She¡¯s genuine.


    She doesn¡¯t deserve a life like that.


    A horrible, cold feeling punches my gut.


    She doesn¡¯t deserve all this shit.


    If I love her, truly love her; I¡¯ll let her go. A strange pressure builds behind my eyes. It¡¯s so swift and sudden, like a kick to the ribs.


    But I love her. And she loves me. It should be simple, right?


    ¡°It¡¯s just too much for me, and I need you to respect my decision and stay away. I won¡¯t be able to get over you otherwise.¡±


    She¡¯s telling me to go away, but she keeps crying. I can¡¯t promise I¡¯ll do what she says, but I¡¯ll try. I¡¯ll try.


    Because she deserves better.


    It hurts to admit that. I¡¯m not good enough for her, but I knew that from the beginning.


    This woman destroyed me. I feel myself breaking apart, piece-by-piece, as I realize that this is goodbye.


    Then if this is goodbye-


    I wrap my arm around her back and sweep her back into my arms. My lips fall on her pouting lips, releasing that hot electricity that sits like a reservoir in my heart. It shoots out everywhere, making my skin hypersensitive.

 2-15

    Then I lift her up in my arms, our lips still attached. She kisses me like I¡¯m thest man in the universe, her fingers almost ripping out my hair. Our chemistry was always insane-I¡¯ve never been fucked so good by a woman in my life.Belongs ? to N?velDrama.Org.


    I focus on that. Her body. Her big tits and bubble ass, which I spank hard. It¡¯s easier to reduce her to tits and ass. She clings to me as I walk down the hallway. I set her down in her bedroom and weave my fingers through her hair. She moans like a whore when I yank hard and run my tongue along her neck. I suck hard on her neck, giving her a huge hickey where I¡¯ll know she¡¯ll have to cover up with makeup, because I¡¯m still pissed. Iugh when she shrieks and tries to push me away, but she still raises her arms when I take off her t-shirt.


    I stop thinking when Adriana kisses the nape of my neck, her hands stroking my sides. She wants charming, sweet Vince, but I¡¯m all out of him right now. Right now I¡¯m angry.


    Grabbing her tits with my mouth, I bite down hard until she yelps, leaving a bright red mark that¡¯ll leave a bruiseter.


    Mine.


    She screams when I swirl my tongue around her nipple. She¡¯s always so sensitive there. The little nub hardens in my mouth and I bite it lightly.


    ¡°Vince.¡±


    I reach down her wless body, stroking her smooth stomach until I stop above her jeans. I undo her button and zip it down. Then I shove my hand between her panties to feel how wet she is. She¡¯s soaking.


    Fuck.


    A man always appreciates how wet he can make his girl. I think I can make her cum from my voice alone. One of the many, many perfect things about her. A twinge of sadness momentarily distracts me, but then her palm rolls over my cock and I forget about everything else.


    ¡°So eager,¡± I hiss, smiling down at her.


    A deep blush fills her face, making her look so gorgeous that I can¡¯t help but kiss her. She kisses me with so much force that I almost have to step back. Then I grab her bottom lip between my teeth and bite.


    Adriana pulls back and lifts her hands. She runs her fingers along thepels of my jacket. They tickle the back of my neck. Her lips run up my neck, nting kisses along my jaw. I grab her hair and yank her back.


    ¡°Did I say you could kiss me?¡±


    She flinches at the roughness in my voice. ¡°No, I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    The hackles settle down somewhat. Inside, there¡¯s still a swirling vortex of emotions, the aching realization that I¡¯ll never see her again.


    I fucking hate that it bothers me so much.


    ¡°Why did you make me love you?¡±


    The anger behind my question makes her eyes bead with tears. Fuck that.


    I rip down her jeans and panties. My hand smooths over her perfectly round ass as my eyes drink her body. I mustmit her every curve to memory, every freckle, and every beauty mark.


    She flinches when my hand disappears from her skin. The loud p of my hand against her left cheek rings across the room. I don¡¯t stroke the sore flesh like I usually do. I want her to remember me through the pain stinging her skin.


    She doesn¡¯t ask why I¡¯m punishing her.


    She knows damn well why.


    I sit down on the chair and make her bend over myp. She hangs over the edge, her long brown hair falling around her head. I wrap my palms around her smooth calves and stroke them. Then I move up her beautiful thighs to her perfectly round ass. The left cheek is a bit pink, but the right one is nk.


    SMACK!


    My hand rips down on her hard, and I feel her chest heaving on my legs. The warmth of her spanked ass makes my hand heat up. I spank her again, and again, and again. Much harder than I ever have. I want her to feel me long after I¡¯m gone. I want to punish her.


    ¡°Stop, Vince!¡±


    Those aren¡¯t the fucking safe words, and she knows it. ¡°Oh, you want me to stop? This will be thest time you get to me.¡±


    She doesn¡¯t say anything; she just trembles on my legs.


    It¡¯s only until I grab her shoulders and look at her red face, raw with unshed tears, that I realize how fucked up this is.


    She should have used the safe word. She should have done it a long time ago-months ago. Why the fuck didn¡¯t she?


    ¡°Vince,¡± she says, raising her hand to my face. She beseeches me with her eyes.


    ¡°Don¡¯t Vince me. You might not be wearing the cor,¡± my fingers brush her bare neck, ¡°but you¡¯re still mine. Onest time.¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    Looking into her sad eyes makes me angry. She has no right to be sad after what she put me through. I thought that we were going to have a future together. Now that¡¯s all fucked.


    I wrap my arms around her back and legs and lift her up. Where should I fuck her? There¡¯s the bed, obviously, but I want ourst time to be memorable. A grin hitches on my face when I remember how we fucked in the forest, in in sight of all those people.


    She stiffens when I bring her out her bedroom door, into the living room. With her still in my arms, I open the blinds so that everyone has a nice view inside.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± she snaps.


    Turning my head, I gather her earlobe in my teeth and bite down. ¡°Whatever the fuck I want with your body. You¡¯re going to remember this for years. And when you¡¯re with someone else, you¡¯ll still be thinking about me, even when he¡¯s fucking you.¡±


    It¡¯s dark inside her dorm room. If I really wanted to attract attention, I¡¯d turn on the lights, but I think that would be too much for her.


    ¡°You¡¯re crazy,¡± she says,ughter shaking from her voice.


    Yes, I am.


    I set her down on the couch and clear all the shit off her coffee table. Then I pick her up andy her on the table. It¡¯s the perfect size for her. I¡¯ve thought about doing this ever since I saw it, but never had the opportunity. Sheys on the table like a perfect, obedient ve. The sight of her nude body makes my pants tighten. Her tits sit on her chest in round orbs and her hair fans out behind her. I grab her legs and push them apart, and then I sink down to my knees. Iugh as people walk past the dorm outside, oblivious. All they would have to do is nce inside and they would see her.


    My face lowers over her pussy, which contracts when I breathe over her. My tongue flicks out over her glistening pussy, my hands stroking her legs. Her legs shudder when she feels my tongue stroking her clit. Her stomach sinks as she sucks in breath, but her head is turned towards the window. I p her thigh hard and she yelps.


    ¡°Stop staring out the window. Focus on me.¡±


    I smile against her pussy, hearing her shuddering breaths as I stroke her swollen clit. I close my mouth around her and suck hard. She arches her back, lifting her beautiful tits to the sky as she moans. My heart skips when I see someone walk by-a mousy-looking girl who nces inside and then quickly looks away.


    My chest strains against holding in myughter. At least one Columbia student has seen me eating her out.


    Adriana tightens her legs around my head,pletely oblivious. I tten my palm over her stomach as she moans to the ceiling. Every sound she makes hits my cock. I can feel my damp underwear chafing against it. Christ, I can¡¯t take it anymore.


    I kiss her onest time before I stand up and pull down my cks. I grab my cock in my fist and look down at her flushed body, her legs wide open for me. I grab her legs and lift as the pebbled head rests between her slick folds. Then I ease inside.


    God, it¡¯s bliss. Her body tightens around me as I sink inside. It¡¯s so wet and warm. She tightens around me. I love how she gasps when I thrust inside her. Her face twists with pain and then melts away with the pleasure. I pound her hard, relentless in my thrusts as she twists on the coffee table.


    Now the whole world has a perfect view of me nailing her on the coffee table. Several more people pass by and do a double take. Iugh as my hips smack against her. Let them all fucking stare at us. I don¡¯t care.


    It¡¯s a perfect position to have a full view of her body beneath me. Goddamn, she¡¯s beautiful. I jerk her body backwards as I thrust, and she screams.


    All right, enough of this. I pull out and quickly grab her shoulders, turning her around so she has a direct view of the window.


    ¡°Get on your hands and knees.¡±


    Her voice trembles. ¡°No, Vincent. I can¡¯t. It¡¯s too-¡±


    My hand ps her ass hard. ¡°Do as I say.¡±


    She moans as she gets on all hands and knees.


    I grab her hips and sink my dick into her. There¡¯s no one outside, but just the thought of being caught fills me with excitement. She feels amazing.


    Adriana arches her back and I grab a fistful of her hair, yanking her into me as I fuck her. I can¡¯t stop running my hands over her body, over the two glowing cheeks, which I smack again. The thrusting now is involuntary, her muscles pull me back inside as I pull back. I grab her waist and lift so I can nail her deeper, and she moans so loudly I¡¯m sure the whole floor can hear her.


    Breathing hard, I pull out and take her off the table. I sink into the couch as she straddles myp. My hands move over her arms and into her hair as she takes hold of the head of the couch. Her body rises and falls in front of me until she lowers her head to kiss me. I breathe in the scent of her hairvender. A smell that makes me inexplicably sad.


    My hands move down her tiny neck to grope her tits. I will not be down while I¡¯m fucking her. Not while these beautiful things are bouncing in front of me. Then I grab her hips to take control again. I thrust upwards as she tries to meet my rhythm. Smack. Smack. Smack.


    My cock burns with a need for release, and now I know I can¡¯t slow down for anything. She digs her fingers in my hair.


    ¡°I love you.¡±


    She cries into my ear and I feel her muscles clenching around my cock. I groan when I feel it, and then I know it¡¯s soon-any moment now.


    And then the sweet release of my orgasm hits me. I keep myself buried inside her still pumping as hot streams burst from my cock. She grabs my head forcefully and kisses me, plunging her tongue inside my mouth.


    I love you, too.


    Then almost as quickly as it came, the pleasure fades away into memory, and I¡¯m left with my trembling rage. My sadness. I can¡¯t stay here when every kiss she gives me feels like torture. I lift her and set her aside, pulling my pants up and zipping them as quickly as possible.


    She touches my leg and I look at her. Her eyes tell me that she wants me to stay, to hold her. If I did, it would only make leaving her harder.


    ¡°Goodbye.¡±


    Adriana¡¯s face screws up and the terrible sound of her crying follows me as I leave her dorm. I m the door behind me. I just want to leave while I can still feel her hands all around me. My cock aches with the ruthless pounding I gave her. I just wanted to fuck her with all of my anger, and be done with it.


    How fucking stupid am I?


    My chest feels like there¡¯s a python coiling around me, constricting my air.


    I¡¯ll give myself one day to feel sad about Adriana, and then I¡¯ll move on.


    My voice cries out inside my head and my eyes burn without tears. Inside, everything screams with the agony I¡¯m feeling. The gaping emptiness.

 2-16

    ADRIANA


    There¡¯s a faint smell of piss in this bar, which gets stronger the closer I get to the restrooms. After walking several blocks of crumbling streets and dodging the ostentatious ringing of stic cups with coins, I found the bar where I¡¯m supposed to meet Tony. Men with ragged t-shirts and baseball caps nce at me from the bar in disbelief, as though they don¡¯t believe my presence. I ordered a drink, but considering the clientele and the sses marked with fingerprints, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be drinking it. A drunk man who sits nearby keeps ncing at me with a leer. I¡¯ve never felt so unsafe in my life.


    He wanted me to meet him in the back of the store without Jack, but I insisted on a public ce. No way am I going anywhere alone with that psycho.


    There¡¯s rowdyughter from the bar-a sound that makes me clench my hands. Then a man in a white tank top slips off his stool, heading to the bathroom. He stops when he passes my table.


    ¡°Whoa.¡±


    He looks like a typical Jersey guido. Slicked back hair, shaved sides, and a fake tan. His eyes slip up and downboriously as he checks me out.


    ¡°What?¡± I say a little aggressively.


    Just get the fuck away from me, please.


    A grin lights up his face. ¡°You want to go home with me, baby? I don¡¯t see a ring on your finger.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not interested.¡±


    ¡°Why, do you have a boyfriend?¡±


    I re at him and his red, hostile eyes stare back. ¡°No,¡± I say a little louder, ¡°I¡¯m just not interested.¡±


    The urge to apologize rises inside me, but I stamp it down. I will not apologize to this fucker. I will not be bullied by yet another man. Fuck him.


    His eyes hot, he walks until his torso is level with me. The idiot flexes his rippling biceps as he leans over me. ¡°Why are you being such a bitch?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a bitch. I¡¯m just not fucking interested in you. Now go away.¡±


    Go away. It bursts out of me. When I was little, it was my mantra. I used to tell strangers, dogs, other children I didn¡¯t like to go away.


    ¡°You¡¯re just a dumb slut,¡± he mutters finally when he shuffles to the bathroom.


    Whatever.


    I¡¯m more annoyed than offended. The man I¡¯m meeting scares me a lot more than that Jersey Shore wannabe jerk.


    The door creaks open and a man¡¯s huge bulk squeezes inside. Right away, he finds me sitting at the booth in the back. He waves to the bartender and orders something, and then he makes a beeline towards me. Tony grins down at me and suddenly takes my arm.


    ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go in the back room.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I rip my arm from him. ¡°We can talk here.¡±


    He gives me another amused look. ¡°I own this bar, sweetie. I promise that if I wanted to, I could kill you right here in the open.¡±


    And there¡¯s no one to save me. Now that I¡¯ve driven Vince away for good, I¡¯m horribly alone. I think he knows that.


    I stand up carefully, like I¡¯m about to vomit. He takes my arm, leading me into the back while I try to swallow my tears. I know I haven¡¯t been sessful. What will he do to me? Will he beat me? Rape me?


    He shoves me into a tiny office that smells of mold and I tumble into the chair. The wheels squeak as it rolls back slightly. Four walls. Closed in.


    You can do this.


    ¡°It¡¯s been a couple weeks. What have you got for me?¡±


    He stands in front of me, blocking the only way out. His thick arms rest on his hips.


    ¡°N-not much.¡±


    Tony frowns and wipes a frustrated hand down his face.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Tony. I¡¯m trying. He¡¯s very hard to read-I¡¯m not sure if he even likes me like that.¡±


    The suggestion makes him blow air out of his nose. ¡°Of course, he fucking does. Show him some pussy and he¡¯lle running.¡±


    I¡¯m not a whore, you piece of shit.


    ¡°I did what you asked,¡± I say in a tight voice. ¡°I broke up with Vince and made sure that he¡¯ll never bother me again. I will get close to him, but it¡¯s going to take time.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have time!¡± He grabs the arms of my chair and leans in, screaming in my face. ¡°I¡¯ve given you a lot of fucking leeway, but if you don¡¯t do what I asked you to do, I will start by getting rid of your ex¡¯s mother. I know you went to your mother and warned her to leave town. Stupid bitch!¡±


    My head reels back when his hammy hand ps my face. It burns hot and tears of rage spring into my eyes, but I keep it out of my voice.


    ¡°What? She¡¯s gone?¡±


    My mom left the city? When the hell did that happen?


    I look at Tony¡¯s small eyes, which are narrowed in suspicious. ¡°Don¡¯t fucking y dumb.¡±


    ¡°That wasn¡¯t me, I swear to God. I haven¡¯t seen her in months.¡±


    It was probably Vince. Vince warned her to leave, I¡¯m sure of it. Thinking about him just makes me want to cry.


    Flecks of spit hit my face when he screams. ¡°She¡¯s going to talk and it¡¯s all your fucking fault!¡±


    He kicks the chair and my head ms against the wall. Stars burst in front of my vision.


    ¡°I-I swear, I didn¡¯t tell her anything!¡±


    ¡°Like fuck you didn¡¯t!¡±


    Oh, Vince. I need you right now. I need you so fucking bad. My face screws up, but I think my tear ducts are permanently dried up.


    ¡°I¡¯ll make something happen tonight, Tony,¡± I say in a high voice that doesn¡¯t seem to belong to me. ¡°I swear. I will.¡±


    His face twists into that terrifying, mad grin. ¡°You fucking better or I start by putting two holes in Mrs. Cesare¡¯s fucking head. I can win this war, but the Vittorios can¡¯t.¡±N?vel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.

 2-17

    I used to think that I was a smart girl. I pick up things easily. I adapt. I am adept at getting 100 percent on exams. Other things that people don¡¯t see, I notice. That¡¯s what makes me such a good student and card dealer.


    How could such a smart person get herself in such a situation?


    I don¡¯t really consider myself human anymore. I¡¯m just a bundle of nerves and fear. Constantly sick to my stomach, wondering when Tony¡¯s patience will run and I¡¯ll meet my end as I¡¯m walking to ss. Or in this shitty dorm room. Right in front of Maria. Two holes in the head. Or they could make me disappear sopletely that no one would ever hear from me again. Not that anyone would go looking.


    A smart person would go to the police or the FBI. They could maybe protect me, but then I would be spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, and I would be throwing Vince under the bus.


    I¡¯m fucked.


    I read the same sentence over and over again. I¡¯ve read it nearly five times, but I can¡¯t decipher anything out of it. It¡¯s all gibberish.


    Setting down the calculus book, I watch Maria. She¡¯s curled up on her bed as she talks to her boyfriend on the phone. Her giggles constantly crack through my concentration. The lighthearted sound irritates me. What I wouldn¡¯t give to be that carefree.


    I shove the book out of sight. Who the fuck cares about ss? I have bigger things to worry about right now. More than anything, I want to run back into Vince¡¯s arms and exin everything. I just want to give up control and let him protect me. I¡¯ve done it so many times that I can¡¯t count. Which makes me feel so useless.


    Dad¡¯s cold body sits in that grave plot I stopped visiting, quietly rotting into dust while I help his murderers kill a man who has been perfectly nice to me.


    Grow a backbone and forget about your issues with the Rizzo family.


    Blinking back tears, I reach into our mini fridge to grab the bottle of vodka. I hesitate for a moment before I unscrew the cap. There¡¯s no more Vince to keep me away from what I want the most. I pour a generous amount into my coffee mug as Maria watches out of the corner of her eye, and I take a sip. A small shudder runs through my body as it burns down my throat.


    Ah, it feels good.


    It¡¯s nice not to have him breathing down my neck about every drop of alcohol I consume. It calms me, numbs all feeling so that I don¡¯t feel my racing heart.


    How the fuck do I make this guy like me?


    Maybe if I go there a bit tipsy, I¡¯ll have a bit more courage to-to I don¡¯t know, flirt. Maybe I won¡¯t be consumed with this nauseating dread and paralyzing fear that Mrs. Cesare might end up dead if I don¡¯t make major strides with Carmine tonight.


    He¡¯s just such a decent, polite guy that the guilt I feel makes it that much harder.N?vel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.


    It¡¯s either him or us.


    Maria ends her phone call and tosses her phone on the bed, giving me a beady look that I ignore.


    ¡°Another drink, eh?¡±


    The judgment in her voice makes me snarl. ¡°Yeah.¡±


    She tosses her thickly highlighted hair behind her shoulders. ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re doing okay? Ever since you and Vince broke up, I don¡¯t know-you¡¯ve been different.¡±


    I know she¡¯s delicately hinting towards the fact that I¡¯m a fucking mess. So what? She has no idea what I¡¯m going through.


    ¡°I¡¯m a bit stressed, that¡¯s all. It has nothing to do with him.¡±


    She stares at me, probably seeing right through my lies as easily as a knife sliding through butter.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know how these mafia assholes got you, but it¡¯s pretty easy to tell that they have some kind of hold on you. I don¡¯t know what it¡¯s about, but I¡¯m worried, Ade.¡±


    I set the mug down and iron my face with my hands, rubbing hard. ¡°I am in a bit of trouble, but it¡¯s temporary.¡±


    Maria blinks rather rapidly as she inhales sharply. ¡°Is it serious?¡±


    ¡°Maria, please stay out of this.¡±


    She gives me an extremely offended look. ¡°I¡¯m only trying to help you-¡±


    I stand up, feeling more and moretled by the second. ¡°No, you¡¯re being nosy.


    ¡°Have you considered-I mean, have you thought about going to the poli-¡±


    ¡°Are you out of your goddamn mind?¡± The air seems to vibrate with my screams. ¡°Stay the fuck out of it!¡±


    Maria blinks rather rapidly, her face burning red as my words seem to strike her in the face. I hurt her. At once, I feel a wave of remorse. Why am I yelling at my best friend? Why am I doing any of this?


    ¡°Sorry.¡± Tears burst from my throat and I sink to the floor, appalled with myself. ¡°Oh, fuck.¡±


    There is no way out of this.


    She climbs down her chair and sits down beside me, throwing an arm around my shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s okay. It¡¯ll be okay.¡± Her voice is thick with tears. She sounds like she hardly believes it.


    I let her arms surround me, desperate for a sliver of hope. I miss her. I miss just hanging out with her and not having to worry about all this shit, going to ss, hanging out in cafes. I miss it all.


    She waits until the tears subside before talking again. ¡°What does Vincent think about all this?¡± she says softly.


    ¡°He doesn¡¯t really know, and I n to keep it that way.¡± I raise my tear-stained head from her shoulder and wipe my eyes. ¡°I¡¯ve got to get ready for work.¡±


    Maria¡¯s mournful gaze follows me as I disappear into the bathroom. I stand under the shower, hoping that the hot water will somehow seep into my brain to give me a sudden jolt of understanding-an idea that will solve all my problems.


    I¡¯m too drunk to think.


    * * *


    The lights in front of Worlds Casino seem more hazy than usual, or maybe it¡¯s the alcohol fucking up my brain. The colorful lights in the casino blur together, the sounds oddly distorted.


    Jesus Christ.


    After Tony¡¯s threats, I needed to do something to numb the gut-wrenching, paralyzing fear. I actually held my cell phone in my hand and my thumb trembled over the ¡°call¡± button next to Vince¡¯s name. Tony did threaten to kill his mother.


    I don¡¯t think he¡¯ll really do it. It was a bluff-just something to scare me into action.


    It worked.


    My heels scuff on a hole in the carpet of the casino, and I nearly stumble.


    A venomous voice that sounds remarkably like Vincent¡¯s hisses in my head. Pull yourself together, for fuck¡¯s sake.


    A weaker one screams: I can¡¯t do this! I¡¯m just a college kid!


    You will do this for me. You love me, don¡¯t you?


    My heartbeat calms down as I spot Carmine¡¯s slick figure in the dark, VIP room, his arms folded. I walk towards him slowly, and he gives me the same cheerful smile he gives me every weekend.


    Smile. Touch him. Do something!


    Deep dimples crease his face, along with the faint lines near his eye. ¡°Hello there. You look nice, today.¡±


    Nice. Not beautiful or pretty, just nice. I pulled all the stops with makeup and picked out my most beautiful dress. It clings to my every curve. What¡¯s it going to take to get a decent reaction from this man? He¡¯s wearing a ck suit, which reminds me of Vince and makes my heart heavy.


    His eyebrows lift. ¡°You all right? You look a little-¡±


    Thinking of Vince makes my throat close, and then it¡¯s hard to speak. I force myself to look into Carmine¡¯s eyes, though. ¡°Yeah.¡±


    Light fingers touch my cheek. Carmine¡¯s face hovers above me, creased with worry. ¡°Tell me.¡±


    Tell me. That edge of authority in his voice, however slight and tempered with sweetness, reminds me of Vincent. He doesn¡¯t ask. He expects.


    ¡°My mother left town without saying goodbye.¡±


    His jaw tics as he looks at me. Of course, Carmine would know all about my mother¡¯s history. He would know why I have a debt to pay. A sudden thought freezes my insides. Maybe he knows who killed my father.


    ¡°Tony thinks I told her to leave.¡± I suddenly hold up a hand over my face, as if I¡¯m ovee with emotion. ¡°I haven¡¯t talked to her in months. It¡¯s just-¡±


    Carmine¡¯s expression is stony and I wonder if I¡¯ve offended him. I turn around to leave, and his hand gently takes mine and pulls me closer. He pulls me right into his arms and holds me tight enough to make me wheeze. I haven¡¯t been hugged like this since I left Vincent. It¡¯s like I forgot how good they feel. I close my eyes and pretend he¡¯s Vince, but the wrong voice speaks into my ear and it shatters my calm.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?¡±


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t think so.¡± I blush hard when I pull away. I try to avoid his steady, sincere gaze, which is filled withpassion. ¡°Sorry, I shouldn¡¯t talk about it. Just forget I said anything. I¡¯ll get to work and-¡±


    His handsome face cracks withughter and he shakes his head. ¡°Adriana, you¡¯ve got to learn to rx. It¡¯s okay to be upset once in a while.¡±


    He says it with such obvious sincerity that I can¡¯t help but feel light. Even Vince was never this sensitive.


    ¡°You¡¯re very sweet.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t tell the others,¡± he says, his eyes beaming.


    I smile back at him, affected by warmth in his voice. He really is one of the nicest men I know, and it¡¯s such a shame-shut up.


    ¡°I¡¯ll just get to work, then.¡±


    He nods and I head towards my table, a little relieved. He¡¯s still watching me when I sit down at my table, and a small thrill of triumph shoots into my chest. I¡¯ve finally got his attention.


    But it¡¯s still not enough for Tony.


    The brief thrill dies like a t soda barely sizzling on your tongue.


    The night passes by quickly. As usual, there¡¯s no trouble with any of my yers and they tip generously. Carmine sweeps past my table several times and I beam at him when he does.


    When the night ends, I wait until everyone else has cleared out before approaching Carmine with my chips. I¡¯m bleary eyed and tired from working all night, but I still need to make progress with Carmine to keep Tony happy.


    ¡°Thanks.¡± He takes the box of chips from me, smiling as he briefly looks at its contents. ¡°This is great, Adriana. Well-¡±


    Just fucking do it.


    ¡°Do you want to get a drink with me?¡±


    My heart beats violently as Carmine turns towards me, surprise lighting his face.


    ¡°Sure,¡± he says in a mild voice. ¡°I¡¯ll just cash these in and meet you at the bar?¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    Jesus Christ what do I have to do to get through to this guy?


    It¡¯s frustrating.


    He gives me a curious look, but heads off in the direction of the cashier while I stalk towards the bar. It¡¯s brightly lit and obnoxious, and thepletely wrong ce for a first date.


    He arrives in a breeze of cologne that immediately reminds me of Vince. I force my face into a smile as he sits down next to me. Carmine smiles again as he looks at me, his eyes wrinkling in a way that is almost endearing.


    I fucking hate this. I don¡¯t want to do this to him.


    He turns his head as the bartender approaches. ¡°I¡¯ll have a scotch on the rocks, please. And she¡¯ll have a-¡±


    ¡°Rum and coke.¡±


    So, now what?


    ¡°How¡¯ve you been?¡± he asks conversationally.


    ¡°Good,¡± I reply automatically, before remembering about my lie. ¡°Well, not really.¡± I release some of the tension balled up in my chest in a sigh. ¡°My mom and I never really got along much, but still.¡±


    His jaw tics as he stares straight ahead. ¡°Yeah, I know what you mean. My mother and I don¡¯t have the best rtionship. I still visit her every month, but any more than that and I go crazy.¡±


    Carmine gives me a good-natured smile. He looks like he¡¯sughing at his own private joke. Then he reaches forward and his fingers just graze my knee. ¡°So, what¡¯s this about, hon?¡±


    Fuck.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Why am I here?¡± An apologetic smile spreads across his face. ¡°You¡¯re always so scared around me.¡± He turns away from my burning face to take the scotch as it arrives. He takes a measured sip as I wrap my mmy hands around mine.


    It¡¯s not you I¡¯m afraid of.


    I take arge gulp of my drink as my mind screams in panic. You fucking moron, you nearly screwed this up! ¡°I¡¯m just nervous around you, that¡¯s all.¡±


    Yeah, right.


    My face burns deeply as Carmine chuckles into his drink, but I hope that only convinces him that I¡¯ve a crush on him.


    ¡°I make you nervous, huh?¡±


    There¡¯s a hint of a smirk in his voice, which gives me hope.


    Then he hooks his foot around the metal footrest of my stool and he drags me closer to him. It¡¯s a sudden, sharp jerk and I throw my hands out. They identallynd on his thighs and I pull them back as if I¡¯ve been burned. Hisughter rings in my ears. It¡¯s like nails on chalkboard, but when I look at him, there¡¯s no cruelty on his face.


    ¡°Hell, maybe you have a crush on me. I don¡¯t know.¡± He leans in so close I can count the stubble on his cheek and my chest freezes. ¡°But when I look at you, I see a frightened little girl. A girl who definitely wants something from me. Why don¡¯t you just try asking for it?¡±


    We¡¯re so close, I can feel his breath when he talks. All I have to do is lean in to kiss him, but his expression is unreadable. He sees right through my pathetic act.


    I swallow hard and try not to let my eyes water as he stares at me, his breath billowing over my face. ¡°I don¡¯t want anything from you-I just want to get to know you.¡±


    Carmine sits back and grabs the scotch. He tilts his head as he downs it in one shot and ms it against the counter. The noise makes me jump.


    ¡°There¡¯s one thing you should know about me, Adriana.¡± He speaks in a different voice that makes the hair on the back of my head stand up. His eyes pin me to my seat as his voice rises. ¡°I hate liars. It¡¯s insulting and disrespectful. I don¡¯t tolerate that shit, so don¡¯t treat me like I¡¯m some kind of jamook you can easily manipte.¡±


    My hands tremble and I clutch the ss tighter. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to give you onest chance to tell me the truth.¡±


    Stunned, I sit there in silence as Carmine folds his arms and watches me, waiting for me to speak. What do I say? After several moments, he raises his eyebrow.


    ¡°Go home, Adriana.¡± He stands up from the stool and ps down money for our drinks. Then he turns to me with an impassive look on his face. There¡¯s no smile, no twinkle in his eyes, nothing. ¡°And don¡¯t ever fucking lie to me again.¡±

 2-18

    The moment the cold air stings my cheeks and I¡¯m out of the casino, I dig my phone out of my purse to call Vince. After dropping it into my purse a million times, I realize that the screen is ck. No battery.


    Another letdown. Another failure.


    It¡¯s cold. I wrap my arms around myself and shiver as a breeze chills me to the bone. I just cannot fucking believe how badly I¡¯ve failed Vincent.


    I¡¯ve killed him.


    I¡¯ve killed all of them.


    Hopeless fatigue settles over my shoulders. It¡¯ste, and I¡¯m exhausted. I haven¡¯t eaten all day-but all of my pain drops away when I think of Vince¡¯s lifeless body.


    I sprint towards the metro and decide take it to Manhattan. At least, I¡¯ll be able to warn him. I only hope I¡¯m not toote.


    Failure. Loser.


    How could I screw this up so badly?


    Because you were fucking afraid. Your fear of screwing up made you screw up.


    Clenching my fist over my dress, I let out a strangled yell that makes half the subway car¡¯s inhabitants nce at me. Then I get out at the wrong stop and I walk six blocks as I wrap my coat around myself. Finally, when I get there I stare at the high-rise apartment with a suffocating sense of loss.


    I can¡¯t.


    I can¡¯t just give up now, when I¡¯ve barely tried. Vince is counting on me, whether he knows it or not.


    My heart races when I realize that I¡¯m giving up on running back to him. I won¡¯t be able to see him again. I won¡¯t hear his loving whisper in my ear, or feel the warmth of his hands stroking my naked flesh.


    The giant Macy¡¯s across the street catches my eye and I feel a sudden impulse to go inside. It¡¯s just starting to open. Six a. m. I feel like my head was beaten with a bat.


    The bright lights inside the store pierce my eyeballs. Once I walk into the women¡¯s section, my fingers start to itch. It¡¯s been a long fucking time since I¡¯ve stolen something. I never really tracked the exact moment when I stopped, but I know that it had something to do with Vince.


    Of course it would. I was fucking happy with him. We were fine, getting ready to be married, and then all of a sudden-boom. It¡¯s all gone. My support system. Gone.


    Brightly colored silk shirts shimmer in the harsh lighting. They¡¯re beautiful. I run my fingers through the fabric, which flows between my fingers like water. I grab a few and stuff them into my jacket. I do it so quickly that I don¡¯t even realize what I¡¯ve done until I feel the lump near my stomach. My eyes dart towards the exits and the familiar thrill creeps inside me, driving away all nervous thoughts. I tear the safety strips from the fabric, not caring about the huge holes I¡¯ve made in them. And then I want a huge drink, too. I want a whole bottle. It doesn¡¯t matter what, they all do the trick.


    More. I want more.


    The brightly colored blouses attract my eye like shy billboards: STEAL ME! Kate Spade, Michael Kors-they¡¯re all conquests. Bright leather slips into my jacket and I work quickly to wrench the strips out.


    ¡°Can I help you?¡±


    A burly African-American man stares at me, his hands resting on his hips.


    Oh, shit.


    I¡¯m halfway between tearing a security sensor, and my heart stops. ¡°No, I¡¯m good. Thanks.¡±


    He purses his lips, his eyes lingering on a carelessly discarded security sensor on the ground. His frown deepens. ¡°Miss, you¡¯re going to have toe with me.¡±


    ¡°No, I think I¡¯ll be going.¡±


    I take several steps towards the exit, and his arm shoots out to grab me. The sudden jerk of his arm jostles me and a purse slips under my jacket, smacking loudly on the floor.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to need toe with me,¡± he repeats.


    My face burns and I feel close to tears as he drags me away. It¡¯s the most humiliating moment in my life. He frog marches me into the manager¡¯s office through a series of doors and calls the police. After several minutes of sobbing in the office, I open my coat and fling all of the stolen crap on the floor. They lie on the floor like beautiful, ruined things.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with you?¡± the guard asks aggressively. ¡°Stealing wasn¡¯t enough? You had to ruin all the clothes?¡±


    I don¡¯t answer him. I¡¯m too ashamed to look at him.


    Then the police officer shows up and handcuffs my hands. I¡¯m led outside the store into the back of a squad car like amon criminal, which I am.


    I can¡¯t handle this. I can¡¯t take this. Everything is fucked, and it¡¯s my fault.


    Once we¡¯re at the police station, they shove me into a holding cell, and a bit of relief floods through me. Tony can¡¯t get me in here, at least.


    What about Vince?


    My body slumps onto the stainless steel bed. I¡¯m so tired that I can¡¯t cry.


    * * *


    ¡°Well, you knew what would happen if you didn¡¯t do your job.¡±


    Tony¡¯s face lights up in the darkness in brief, red shes as he lights his cigar. It¡¯s like a giant firefly in the night, lighting the wisps of smoke around his face.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I tried!¡±


    I¡¯m against a brick wall, tied up in ropes. I can¡¯t budge a muscle as Tony¡¯s round facees closer and closer.


    ¡°I said in the beginning what would happen. You didn¡¯t take it seriously.¡±


    We¡¯re somewhere in the city. The streets are ck and slimy with rain. Tony¡¯s huge body blocks it all. His grinning face widens, it seems to go on and on and on.


    ¡°What did you say?¡± I stammer. ¡°In the beginning.¡±


    ¡°I said you would get burned.¡±


    And that glowing, red cigar? He sticks it right into my bare shoulder. I hear the sizzle of flesh, the sharp, burning pain-


    Someone pokes my shoulder and I jerk violently, staring into the eyes of a very annoyed cop.


    ¡°Geez, kid. I just wanted to tell you that you¡¯re free to go.¡±


    I sit up blearily, my back aching from the rock hard bed. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Charges have been dropped. Someone¡¯s waiting for you.¡±


    What? How the hell did that happen?


    I walk out of the cell, privately thinking that there must have been a mistake. They caught me in the act. How could the charges be dropped?


    Then I see him.


    Carmine.


    Oh, fuck. This can¡¯t be good.


    He unfolds his arms, giving me a ck look as I enter the station.


    ¡°Thank you, Officer Brown. I owe you one.¡±


    ¡°No problem, Carmine.¡± The policeman shakes his head at me and turns back around.


    Carmine normally groomed hair looks slightly tousled, as if he just woke up. He¡¯s wearing jeans and a t-shirt, looking out of his element in casual clothes.


    ¡°Quite an interesting morning you¡¯ve given me.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry,¡± I say in a quiet voice.


    He takes my arm, his grip a little biting as he leads me out of the police station. Once we¡¯re out of earshot, he speaks.


    ¡°You¡¯re fucking lucky he owed me a favor. Oh, and paying off the store department people is going toe out of your fucking end. How could you do something so stupid?¡± Carmine leads me to his car and opens the door. ¡°Well?¡± he barks.


    I flinch from the anger in his voice and beseech his eyes. ¡°I was upset over our conversationst night,¡± I say in measured voice as I return his stare. ¡°And I-I have issues. I used to have a stealing problem.¡±


    The anger on his face doesn¡¯t quite disappear. ¡°Jesus,¡± he says after a beat. Then he lets out a long sigh. ¡°Well, get in.¡±


    ¡°Where are we going?¡± I ask as I slip inside.


    ¡°My ce.¡± He ms the door a little harder than necessary and enters the driver¡¯s door. ¡°You wanted my attention and you fucking got it.¡±


    His ce? Things are looking up.


    ¡°I swear to God, I didn¡¯t want to upset you. I¡¯m really, really sorry.¡±


    He shakes his head as he pulls out of the parking lot. ¡°You¡¯re fuckin¡¯ lucky you¡¯re a woman. If any one of my guys pulled that crap, they¡¯d be missing several teeth.¡±


    Jesus. I¡¯ve never heard him speak this way, but then again, I¡¯ve never seen him pissed off.


    I grip the armrests as the car as he guns it forward. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    ¡°Stop saying, ¡®sorry!''¡± He pounds the steering wheel in frustration.


    I grimace as he leads us into Jersey, into a nice residential area where he stops in front of a home with a neatly trimmedwn.


    ¡°This is where you live?¡± I expected him to live in an apartment, like Vince.


    ¡°Yeah, so?¡± He pulls into the driveway and yanks on the parking brake. When the engine dies, he leans back and momentarily closes his eyes. ¡°Goddamn, I¡¯m tired.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sor-¡±


    The sharp look he gives me makes me stop abruptly. ¡°Get inside,¡± he says in a gritty voice.


    Well, I¡¯ve made it inside his house. Tony will be pleased. What does it matter about the circumstances? I scramble from the car and walk up the driveway as Carmine glowers at me. It¡¯s such a quaint, unassuming house. Just like him, I guess.


    Carmine steps in front of me to unlock the door and then he shoves it open. ¡°In.¡±


    I quickly duck inside. What strikes me immediately is the mismatching, old furniture. It¡¯s old and antique looking, but some of it is in bad shape. Stuffing poking out of holes. All of it looks like it used to belong to his mother and he¡¯s had a hard time letting them go.


    ¡°Have a seat.¡± Carmine gestures towards the couches. He runs his hand through his hair, shaking his head as he walks past me into the kitchen.


    I sink into a couch that looks the least frayed while Carmine does something in the kitchen-making a pot of coffee, perhaps? I smell it as he pours two cups in white, chipped mugs.


    When I see the lines under his eyes, a swell of guilt rises in my stomach. He sets the mug down in front of me and sits beside me, closing his eyes and sipping.


    This is an opportunity. To snoop. To get closer to him.


    His arm stretches over the head of the couch and I run my fingers over his hand. His eyes fly open.


    ¡°Carmine, thanks for everything. You didn¡¯t have to help me out like that.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I did,¡± he sighs.


    Something has been nagging at me this whole time. ¡°How did you even know I was there?¡±


    ¡°I have connections. When one of the officers realized that one of my people was arrested, he called me immediately.¡±


    I wrap my hands around the mug and take a sip. Chocte mocha with a tiny bit of sweetness. It fills me up with warmth, and I feel better. I stare into its dark depths as I talk to him. ¡°You were right about me.¡±


    ¡°About what?¡± he says, a faint note of irritation in his voice.


    ¡°I am scared all the time. Scared of Tony and what he¡¯ll do to me if I don¡¯t make enough at the casino to cover my family¡¯s debts. He told me what would happen.¡±


    I hear the sound of his head turning towards me and his hand drops down to lightly stroke my bare shoulder. I squeeze my eyes shut as my body inwardly recoils.


    Don¡¯t.N?velD(ram)a.?rg owns this content.


    He shakes his brown head. ¡°You don¡¯t need to worry about Tony.¡± Firm fingers squeeze my shoulder. ¡°Hey,¡± he says in a tone that makes my head turn towards him. ¡°I mean that.¡±


    ¡°I do anyway.¡±


    I can feel his eyes on me, searching my body for clues that I might be lying, but it¡¯s the truth. Tony terrifies me. He just doesn¡¯t know the real reason why.


    ¡°You¡¯re such a delicate little bird, aren¡¯t you? I still can¡¯t believe what you did,¡± he says in a thundering voice.


    I am disgusted with myself. ¡°Me too. I¡¯ve never really been caught before, but I¡¯ve never had so much stress. It¡¯s mostly under control.¡± My voice fades as his lips thin. ¡°I have problems.¡±


    ¡°So do I, hon. That doesn¡¯t mean you get to do something stupid that gets you time.¡±


    My breath shudders when I inhale. ¡°I was upset.¡±


    A smile cracks over his face. ¡°Over me?¡±


    I¡¯m embarrassed and afraid of the confident smile on his face. His hand curls around my shoulder as my face burns. My heart hammers as he strokes my bare arm. As ufortable as it is, as much as I wish another man was holding me, I allow him to pull me into his chest. My dress slips up my thighs as he pulls me over hisp. My heart jack-knifes against my chest, blood racing. I can see every line on his face, deepened by his smile.


    ¡°Is this what you want, Adriana?¡±


    No, I want Vince. I don¡¯t say a word. Let him draw his own conclusions.


    A low growl rumbles in the back of his throat as his hand sweeps up my neck, his thumb gently massaging my jumping vein. My hands are frozen, but I force myself to touch him. I can look through his clothes at the same time. They tten against his muscr chest and move over hispels, down his neck and inside his jacket. His body isn¡¯t as lean as Vincent¡¯s, but it feels smooth. Powerful. He lets out a chuckle that I feel in the tips of my fingers. His face follows me, seeking my lips.


    ¡°Ah, all you had to do was ask, sweetheart.¡± His lips move along my jaw.


    ¡°I tried,¡± I breathe.


    He pulls back and looks at me seriously. ¡°Yes, you did. My apologies for not believing you.¡± He strokes the side of my face, tucking away strands of hair. He sucks in breath when his lips reach my ear. ¡°I always liked you, Adriana. From the first moment I saw you. I thought you were beautiful.¡±


    Beautiful. He thinks I¡¯m beautiful.


    I¡¯m not. I¡¯m a monster to use a man like this, to manipte his emotions to get what I want-which inevitably will lead to his death. I don¡¯t want him to give mepliments, or hear about his problems with his mother, or anything else that humanizes him. I don¡¯t want to feel anything for him.

 2-19

    Already teary eyed, I turn my head into his and his lips fall against mine. He takes my head in his hands as his soft lips kiss mine. I don¡¯t feel anything as he kisses me, except a burning betrayal of Vince. It¡¯s wrong. I love him. Carmine¡¯s a nice man. He¡¯s an attractive, sweet guy, but I just don¡¯t have feelings for him.


    But that¡¯s not the point.


    Pretend he¡¯s Vince.


    Without seeing his face, it¡¯s easy. My hands travel up and down his body, up his hard, lean muscles, around his t chest, searching for a bump somewhere. A wireless microphone.


    God, I miss Vince. I give up on the search and bury my fingers in his short hair, deepening our kiss as he ys with the shoulder straps of my dress. I break away from him and kiss his bristly jawline, imaging Vince¡¯s face, his lips parted in bliss. I nt kisses under his jaw, right under his ear. Lowughter shakes through his chest.


    ¡°You¡¯re a vixen.¡±


    Carmine¡¯s voice snaps me out of it and I pull back, his arms still around me. He regards me like an art connoisseur analyzing a sculpture. His actions are perfectly measured and controlled, unlike Vince. His blue eyes burn brighter and his finger moves along my bottom lip, teasing as he leans in closer.


    A loud, banging sound at the front door makes me spring away from him.


    ¡°Open the fucking door!¡±


    Both of us recognize that voice.


    ¡°Oh, no.¡± I give Carmine a terrified look. ¡°Vince.¡±


    Carmine gently moves me from hisp and stands up, looking unworried but determined. His hair is a little disheveled as he makes a beeline for the door.


    Oh, fuck. This is going to get ugly.


    He unlocks the door and opens it, moving his body in front of the crack. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I know she¡¯s here. Open the fucking door.¡±


    Vincent¡¯s deep voice fills the living room. My heart soars at the sound of his voice, reminding me how much I can¡¯t stand to be away from him.


    ¡°I don¡¯t take orders from you, Cesare.¡±


    He takes a deep breath. I can hear him reining in his anger. ¡°I heard what happened. I just want to see if she¡¯s all right.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s fine.¡± The smirk appears in his voice. ¡°More than fine.¡±


    The door creaks as he opens it wider, so that the sliver of Vince can see me sitting on Carmine¡¯s couch. Vincent¡¯s dark eyes zero in on me, and then he bursts inside, shoving aside Carmine like a bear swatting a cub. I have to fight the joy I feel when I see him, because it¡¯s bad for him to be here.


    Vince stands on the other side of the coffee table. His face is lined with fatigue, and his hair grew a little longer. He looks me over and takes in my appearance, my frazzled hair and the strap of my dress pushed down my shoulder. Then he looks at Carmine, who shrugs with a shit-eating grin.


    ¡°What the fuck is this?¡± he bellows to Carmine, who looks supremely unconcerned. He gazes back at me, his eyes full of poison.


    ¡°It¡¯s really none of your fucking business.¡± Carmine says in an icy voice as he walks in between me and Vincent.


    The betrayal on Vince¡¯s face is like a knife through my heart. ¡°You¡¯re with this piece of shit now?¡±


    ¡°Careful, asshole.¡± Carmine finally shoves Vince¡¯s chest.


    He looks so wounded that he doesn¡¯t even try to fight back. His eyes never leave my face as desperate hope keeps him fromshing out.


    I swallow hard under his tortured stare. ¡°Vince, we broke up. It¡¯s none of your-¡±


    Pain momentarily fills his face. I¡¯ve hurt him. Again. I hate myself.


    ¡°You fucking bitch!¡± He takes a step towards me, but Carmine grabs the back of his jacket and yanks him back.


    ¡°Easy.¡±


    ¡°Vince!¡± I can¡¯t believe he¡¯d call me that, but of course he would. He thinks that Carmine and I are-


    ¡°You lied to me,¡± he says in a deadly voice as Carmine holds him back. ¡°I let you go so you could have a normal life with a normal guy. The second you¡¯re free, you run into the arms of another guy who¡¯s connected? What the fuck, Adriana!¡±


    ¡°Vince-¡± My eyes well with tears.


    It¡¯s not true! I love you, I love you!


    ¡°It just happened. I didn¡¯t n-¡±


    ¡°Fuck you!¡± His red face crumples with pain and rage. ¡°You ripped my fucking heart out!¡±


    Carmine shoves Vince¡¯s chest hard as he backs out of the room. ¡°All right, that¡¯s enough.¡±


    The disgust contorting his face makes me think that he¡¯ll unleash his wrath on Carmine, and I¡¯m right. He whirls around faster than Carmine can react, and he plows his fist into Carmine¡¯s jaw. I stand up, screaming.


    Carmine explodes upward, recovering so quickly that it catches Vince by surprise. He hammers him in his stomach. Once. Twice. Vince lets out guttural groans and brings down his elbow, stabbing Carmine¡¯s back viciously.


    ¡°STOP! Both of you!¡±


    Carmine drops to the floor and I rush over to him before Vince can kick him. He stares at me for a moment with so much venomous hatred that I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll hit me, but he lowers his fists. I wrap my arms around Carmine¡¯s head and Vince turns away from us, disgusted. He walks right out of the door, and I get onest look of his face twisted in pain.


    I did this to him.


    The door ms shut and I turn my attention back to Carmine, even though I want nothing more than to chase after Vince. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    I stroke his brown hair. His face is red, but at least he¡¯s not bleeding. He grabs my arm and kisses it, giving me a painful grimace. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    He stands up effortlessly, as if he gets into fights all the time. He locks the door, breathing a sigh. ¡°See youter, asshole,¡± he mutters.


    When the sound of Vince¡¯s car peels away, Carmine joins me and ces a tentative hand on my back.


    ¡°You okay?¡±


    I shake my head. ¡°It¡¯s been a long day.¡±


    ¡°Is that true?¡± he asks. ¡°What he said about why you broke up?¡±


    My shoulders shake. ¡°Carmine, I had to tell him something to get him off my back. I tried telling him the truth, but he wouldn¡¯t leave me alone. Now I¡¯ve made things worse.¡±


    I feel sick when he leans in and nts a kiss on my head.


    ¡°Don¡¯t feel bad about it. He¡¯s just a puffed-up, angry jerk because he lost a great girl. His feelings are not your problem anymore.¡±


    I¡¯m trying to do the right thing and spare Vincent. So why does the right thing make me feel like shit? I would be just as hurt if I was in his position.N?vel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.


    So make it worthwhile. Remember why you¡¯re here.


    Even if it makes you feel dead inside.

 2-20

    CARMINE


    The waves roll over the golden sand, the foam hissing as it pools around my feet. I curl my toes into the muddy-like sand with a boyish glee that has stayed with me for years. I walk alone, my footprints marking the sand as waves dart forward like white fingers on the shore. It¡¯s a great day to be on the beach. There are families and kids milling about everywhere.


    A boy sshes through the surf as he chases his sister, running into my legs.


    ¡°Sorry, mister!¡±


    I ruffle his golden curls and continue on my way, beaming to everyone who passes me.


    I feel light.


    But when I look at the roller coasters on the boardwalk and hear the joyful screams of children, I feel that ache inside me pounding. When I was a kid, I always wanted to go to Coney Ind. My neighbor¡¯s parents would invite me all the time, but mother was a spiteful woman. She would never let me go anywhere.


    My finger absentmindedly rubs the perfectly round scars on my chest. Cigarettes. Whenever I see one, I want to vomit. They¡¯re everywhere in the city. Even here on this beach, some assholes decide to litter the sand with their cancer sticks.


    ¡°Stop crying!¡± she would scream. ¡°Stop crying or I¡¯ll give you something real to cry about!¡±


    The glowing, red end of a cigarette. Such unimaginable pain like you would never believe.


    I stop on the beach, seething.


    She ruins everything. Even now, she haunts me.


    Maybe because she¡¯s still alive.


    I try thinking about the girl who does make me happy, who chose me. Finally. My heart is already bursting with affection for her, but I know-I¡¯ve learned the hard way to take it slow with girls. Thest one said I was too intense. I pped her hard when she said that. What the fuck does that mean, anyway? I¡¯m too loving? I care too much?


    It hurt my feelings. I know I shouldn¡¯t have hit her, but she was a bitch, wasn¡¯t she? Then she called the police, and I had to get Tony involved. Jesus Christ, it was a mess.


    But I¡¯ve had my eye on Adriana for a long fucking time. None of them know how long. Not even that piece of shit, Cesare.


    I nce at my watch. Nearly noon. There¡¯s a lot of shit to get done today, so I drop my sandals and slide my feet in them. Time to work. Heading towards the nearest pay phone, I call Officer Cramar, the cop I¡¯ve been feeding info to.


    ¡°This is Patriot,¡± I say when he picks up the phone. ¡°Meet me now under the bridge. I¡¯ve got something for you.¡±


    * * *


    There¡¯s not much under Brooklyn Bridge. A small strip of sand where the dirty waterps. Trash strewn all over. Broken ss. Junk.


    I drive my car as close as I can to where we¡¯re meeting, and then I wait behind the brush with my hand buried in my jacket. Officer Cramar has been useful to me, but he¡¯s outrun his usefulness. She¡¯s mine now. There¡¯s no need to keep feeding him shit about Vince.


    But I can¡¯t just cut him loose, after all. The officer¡¯s continued existence poses a threat to me. He knows what I look like. One word from his fucking mouth to someone in my crew, and I¡¯m dead. Of course, if that cheese-eating fuck Tony had half a brain, he would suspect me already. There¡¯s no fucking way he has anything on me. I¡¯ve covered my tracks. It¡¯s still dangerous to be a rat. They still won¡¯t do anything to me without proof because of their precious omerta.


    It makes me chuckle out loud. Where is Tony¡¯s code when he¡¯s in the strip club, cheating on his wife? Where was his code when that piece of shit Cesare killed Ritchie? I¡¯ve tried and tried again and again to get rid of Vincent. First, by egging on Ritchie to avenge his brother. Then by ratting on Vince. Now he¡¯s gone because his girl got sick of him. Ironic, isn¡¯t it?


    Officer Cramar walks in front of my vision. He¡¯s not a small guy, but he was easy to manipte all the same. My arm flies out of my jacket with the pistol and I aim for a split second. The officer slips on some sand and then he sees me, aiming a gun at him. His eyes widen and he holds his hands up.


    ¡°Put your fucking hands down.¡±


    He obeys. ¡°Carmine, what are you doing?¡±


    ¡°Just so you know, this isn¡¯t personal.¡±


    I pull the hair trigger and two neat bullets sink into his skull with hardly a sound, taking half of his brain out as his eyes roll up in the back of his head. His bodynds with a surprisingly loud thud on the sand, dead. Then I work quickly.


    Gripping his hands, I drag him up the slope and pop open my trunk. He¡¯s a heavy bastard, but I manage to roll his body into my lined trunk. I take thetex gloves and bag from the trunk and then close it. I walk back down to the beach, whistling to myself as I gather all of the blood and bits of brain into the bag, wiping every trace of him on that beach.


    There¡¯s still the matter of his car.


    I pop open the trunk and shove the bag inside, along with my gloves. Officer Cramar¡¯s tongue sticks out as he quietly spills of all life. I¡¯m d I lined it well, because there¡¯s yet another stop I have to make. Flipping open my cell, I call the tow-truck guy who never asks me any questions. I pay him extremely well to keep quiet, but I know that someday I¡¯ll have to get rid of him, too. The more people who know, the more risk I assume. I¡¯ve been doing this way too long and I¡¯ve never been caught because I am very careful.


    Killing a cop is not something I¡¯ve ever done before. In broad daylight, no less. They¡¯ll look for his car. Doing this could get me killed. Tony could easily use this as an excuse to bump me off.This text is ? N?velDrama/.Org.


    The tow-truckes rolls down and the bit of anxiety eases out of my chest. He rolls down the window to talk to me. Reaching inside my jacket pocket, I pull out an envelope full of cash.


    ¡°It needs to be unrecognizable, do you understand?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡±


    ¡°Thanks a lot, Charlie.¡±


    He¡¯ll bring the cop¡¯s car to the dump and their machines will crush his car into a soda can. Gone without a trace.


    I climb into my car, giving myself a once over before I drive out of there. Next is a bit of business for Tony. A hit. Most captains let their soldiers do their dirty work, but I don¡¯t. Killing doesn¡¯t bother me, and neither does the messy disposal of their bodies. I take pride in how well I do my job. They don¡¯t suffer if I don¡¯t want them to. Really, I¡¯m not that much different than a butcher.


    But this guy won¡¯t need to be cut up. I can just leave him there. I don¡¯t have the trunk space, anyway.


    Benito de Serva.


    I¡¯m not sure what he did, but whatever it was, Tony wants him dead. So here I am. I park a couple blocks from his apartment, giving my trunk a small pat.


    I¡¯ll take care of you soon, buddy.


    Then I march up the concrete stairs to his apartment. He¡¯s really the perfect hit. Lives alone. No job. No one who wille looking for him.


    It¡¯s pretty boring, actually.


    Iugh when I grasp the doorknob and it turns easily, allowing me inside. He might as well have an invitation.


    It¡¯s dark inside and I grip my pistol. My heart thrums with anticipation for the fight, the moment he¡¯ll see me and scream. There¡¯s a slightly bad smell and I see boxes and boxes of pizza stacked almost to the ceiling. A depressing couch sits in front of a TV ying cartoon reruns, and he sits there, nodding off. He looks like a middle-aged man. Thin as a rail, despite all the pizza boxes. I could just shoot him now in the chest, and he wouldn¡¯t be the wiser.


    But that¡¯s so boring.


    So I walk up until I can see his brown hair fluttering slightly with his breath, and I kick his legs hard.


    He wakes up with a shuddering gasp and sees me with a gun pointed to his chest. I expect screaming. I expect a fight.


    Instead, his eyes slowly fill with tears. ¡°Please, God, no.¡±


    ¡°God doesn¡¯t exist.¡±


    Sometimes it¡¯s fun to y with them a little, but I¡¯ll admit that I don¡¯t like crying. It¡¯s so noisy.


    He backs away on the couch. ¡°Tell Tony I have the money! I have it!¡±


    ¡°You do?¡± I grin. ¡°Where is it?¡±


    Ben points towards the mantelpiece, where there¡¯s a small envelope. I look inside and thumb through the cash. Laughter bursts from my throat. ¡°A few grand does not equal fifty thousand. You¡¯ve kept Tony waiting for way too long. Sorry, man.¡±


    ¡°No, please! Don¡¯t! I have kids, man!¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ll survive without a father. I did.¡±


    His face purples as he kneels in front of me, sping his hands together in prayer. Deep, shuddering moans leave his mouth as he shakes on the floor, begging me for a reprieve. ¡°Please Jesus, God. Save me. Help me, God!¡±


    Something twists inside me when I see him praying. Suddenly, I want to cause him pain. Fuck this asshole.


    A cruel grin spreads across my face. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what, Ben. I¡¯ll give you half an hour for your God to save you. If he doesn¡¯t, you¡¯ll die. Understand? Pray as much as you like, but don¡¯t make a fuckin¡¯ sound or I¡¯ll kill you before your time is up.¡±


    I sink into a rocking chair, smiling as he copses on the floor, sobbing. I nce at my watch. ¡°You better pray hard, Ben. Twenty-nine minutes left,¡± I say with a lilt in my voice.


    Watching him blubber and cry on the floor, quietly whispering prayers into the carpet amuses me for a while, but then it bes boring. I nce at my watch.


    ¡°Fifteen minutes left.¡±


    He lets out a small shriek and a fresh wave of tears cascades down his cheeks. ¡°Please, God! Hail Mary full of grace-¡±


    I¡¯m about ready to shoot the fucker. Hearing him recite the prayers over and over makes me feel sick to my stomach. My mother used to make me kneel in salt and recite them over and over again, because she said I was a wicked child. Hours into it, my knees would be bleeding. If I cried? I¡¯d get the cane on my back. Or the belt. She¡¯d flog me until I passed out. Then I¡¯d wake up in her arms and she¡¯d stroke my face and cry.


    Five minutes left.


    His voice gets a little more hysterical after I announce it.


    ¡°If you don¡¯t shut up, I¡¯ll kill you.¡±


    The fool would be smarter to charge me and scream, but he clings to hope too strongly. I stand up from the chair and he¡¯s still begging his God. One minute left.


    ¡°Please, I¡¯ll do anything! Jesus save my life, please!¡±


    I shrug. ¡°I guess your God doesn¡¯t care about you.¡±


    I raise my gun to his forehead.


    ¡°No, wait!¡±


    The silencer narrows down the crack of the gunshots, but it¡¯s still loud. Two in the forehead and I empty the rest in his chest. His mouth gapes open, and his eyes roll back. His face is a mask of blood as he falls backwards.


    Dead. Gone.


    I back out the way I came, eager to get out of that ce. Officer Cramar is waiting for me in the trunk, after all. There¡¯s much to be done.

 2-21

    I arrive at the deli near the back entrance in Jersey. I could have brought him to my house to butcher him, but I really don¡¯t like bringing my business home.


    The sun shines brightly as I step outside my car. Beautiful day. I probably got here just in time. He¡¯s only been dead for a couple hours, but soon he¡¯ll start to smell. Two of my soldiers meet me outside and I point towards my trunk.


    ¡°Jesus,¡± one of them says as he looks inside.


    ¡°Brian, let¡¯s go. Get him inside, now.¡±


    I follow them into the back, where the giant saws are. Perfect for cuttingrge chunks of meat. Or people. They remove his clothes quickly while I watch, cing them in a thick, bowling bag. Then they shove his body on the table with the electric saw. Officer Cramar lies naked on the table, his penis small and shriveled in a bed of dark hair. Dark hair covers his chest and his eyes stare forward, his mouth slightly parted.


    The electric saw turns on, the screaming noise somehow makes Brian gag. They position the head next to the saw, and it slices through the officer¡¯s neck as if it was made of butter. Dark blood gushes from the stump of the neck and Iugh when Brian presses his arm to his face, his stomach heaving. Even Johnny, the more seasoned soldier, grimaces when he grabs the head by its hair and drops it in the bowling bag.


    ¡°Haven¡¯t you pussies seen a dead body by now? It¡¯s just meat.¡±


    Without the head, the corpse spills ckish blood from its stump all over the table and Brian throws up on the floor.


    ¡°Fuck!¡± Some of it almost sshes on my shoes. ¡°Get a grip and clean that shit up!¡±


    The body is pale now, so pale it doesn¡¯t look remotely human anymore.


    Fuck¡¯s sake, I¡¯ll just do it myself.


    I stick his hands through the saw, marveling at how easily it cuts through sinew and bone. Then I dump those in the bowling bag and zip it up. Perfect.


    I¡¯m always amazed at how much blood the body contains, especially near the head. When the heades off, it¡¯s like a burst of liquid. Gallons and gallons. Then I turn around the corpse and slice off the legs. No blood at all. I don¡¯t need his legs cut off, it just makes it easier to fit in a bag.


    By the time I¡¯m finished, he barely looks like anything at all.


    Life is meaningless when it can be taken away so easily. Within minutes I can transform a human being into chunks of meat. What¡¯s the difference between this and the pig carcasses hanging in the freezer? I dump the corpse into a garbage bag and shove it in Brian¡¯s arms. He looks like he might throw up again.


    ¡°Take it to Meadonds. I¡¯ll take care of the rest.¡±


    Meadonds, New Jersey. The mob¡¯s favorite ce to dump bodies. The murky swamps are perfect for hiding a recent kill.


    ¡°And hurry the fuck up about it,¡± I say to his back as he carries the bag in his hand, holding it far away from his body.


    Taking the ck bowling bag containing the head, hands, and clothes, I walk outside and breathe in the fresh air. I see them hosing off the table when I leave. Good.


    A long drive to a farm on Long Ind takes a couple hours, and I have a date tonight with Adriana. That angel. Excitement burns through my veins when I think about her. She¡¯s the perfect girl, really. Great body. Italian. Smart. Even better looking than her mother.


    Taking the shovel, I stab the soft earth and dig a nice, big hole. They¡¯ll never find poor Officer Cramar. Without his head and hands, it¡¯ll be impossible to identify the corpse in Meadonds without a DNA test. No dental records. No fingerprints.


    Christ, I¡¯m tired. The dirt flies in the air in a shower of brown chunks as I work tirelessly. Finally, when it¡¯s big enough, I drop the bowling bag inside.


    ¡°So long.¡±


    I give the bag a merry salute before I cover it back up with earth. Then I scatter the earth around it, cing the grass on top so that it doesn¡¯t look disturbed. I look down at the small mound for a moment. One minute, you¡¯re a walking, talking person and the next your head¡¯s chopped off, buried under feet of dirt in a leather bowling bag.


    People die all the time and there¡¯s nothing you can do about it. We¡¯re all a bunch of savages barely constrained by rules,ws, and religion. Fuck it all.


    I kill because I have to. Because I need it. Because it keeps me strong.


    My ma beat me, starved me, and rained her weapons on my back until Ipletely broke. She kept me in a cage. She called me a demon. Sometimes, I still cry over it. I cry like a little bitch and I hate myself for being so weak and I punch a hole in the fucking wall.


    Do you know what it¡¯s like being so fucking scared all the time any reminder of her makes you vomit in your mouth? The sight of her still makes me flinch. Bullied at school. I was the weird kid who burst into tears for no reason. Then I was the violent kid. Detention. Emotional issues. Dropped out of school and got a job robbing homes for a low-level soldier in the Rizzo family. From there, I worked my way up.N?velD(ram)a.?rg owns this content.


    Thinking about all this shit makes my head ache. I throw my shovel in the car and m the hood, wishing there was someone else around who I could destroy. It¡¯s funny. Everyone in the family looks at me as the calm, cool, and collected guy. Mature. Strong.


    I¡¯m not. I¡¯m fucking nuts. I know that. I¡¯m trying to heal the sickness inside me. The endless, white-hot rage that calls for blood. The only way I feel good about myself is if I kill, maim, and hurt. I¡¯ve restrained myself a lottely. Using guns instead of knives, or my own bare hands. It¡¯s progress.


    I want to be better.


    Especially for her.

 2-22

    She waits for me at the base of her dorm building, wearing a small, shy smile. Adriana wears dark skinny jeans and a tight, leopard-print tank top, which stretches over her breasts. She wears a glittering ne that I¡¯d love to grab ahold of. Her thick, brown hair falls over her back. Typical guidette. Bombshell.


    I told her to wear something casual, and she still manages to look gorgeous.


    ¡°Carmine.¡± Her pink lips mouth my name.


    Everything inside me wants to kiss her, but I hold myself back and link hands with her instead. ¡°You look beautiful, Adriana. As always.¡±


    She walks into my arms and wraps her arm around my waist, and I feel goosebumps all over my arms. I suck in my breath when I feel her tits rustling against my chest and step back from her, grabbing ahold of her hands.


    Control.


    ¡°Where are we going?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a secret.¡± I grip her hand and guide her to the garage where my car is parked.


    It¡¯s a nice night. Happy young couples walk by us, heading towards the bars and clubs. I¡¯ve something different in mind for her. Something exciting.


    I open the passenger door for her, my eyes lingering on her body as she bends into my car. I take another deep breath and slide into the driver¡¯s seat.


    ¡°So how are you?¡± I say to break the silence.


    Adriana looks nervous. Her hands twist in herp and her knee jigs restlessly. Does this girl ever calm down?


    A shaky sigh leaves her mouth. ¡°I¡¯m good. A bit nervous. First date jitters.¡±


    Truth be told, I¡¯m a little nervous, too. I¡¯m just really good at hiding it. ¡°Me too.¡±


    She grins at me as I pull out of the parking lot. ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Pretty girls make us guys nervous.¡±


    I reach over and suddenly grab her thigh, tickling her. She squeals and beats my hand away. I do it again.


    ¡°Carmine, stop!¡± she pleads throughughter.


    Sheughs so hard, there are small tears in the corner of her eyes.


    ¡°I just wanted to make youugh a little, and it worked!¡±


    When I look at her again, a somber expression reces the mirth dancing on her face. I notice that a lot. A light switches and a deep sadness ovees her, like the shadow of a dark cloud from some deep, dark corner in her mind. She carries it with her all the time.


    I understand that.


    I drive toward Queens to begin our little adventure for tonight. 80¡¯s pop music res through the speakers and I turn it up, singing along under my breath.


    Adriana stares, biting her lip to keep herself fromughing.


    ¡°Oh,e on. You sing in the shower, don¡¯t you? What, I can¡¯t sing the Police in my car?¡±


    She giggles. ¡°It¡¯s just so unexpected.¡±


    We fly over the bridge, which is lit up at night. New York City glows behind us as I drive towards Queens.


    ¡°I have no idea where we¡¯re going.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the idea.¡±


    There¡¯s a strip of the highway here where there are drag races: the belt parkway that wraps around Brooklyn and Queens. And we¡¯re going to be in one.


    The highway wraps around the water, and there¡¯s a line of cars already waiting as I loop around, right before Bet Field. I roll down the window as I pull up beside them.


    ¡°Hey, wanna race?¡±


    ¡°Frank, it¡¯s me!¡±


    I move the shift until it¡¯s in park, and then I rev the engine. Adriana looks at me, looking excited and scared. ¡°Make sure your seat belt¡¯s on.¡±


    ¡°Is it safe?¡± she whispers.


    I shrug andugh.


    ¡°Hey,¡± he says to me. ¡°On three?¡±


    The sound of three, four cars revving their engine gets my blood racing. Headlights shine behind me. There are even more cars joining the race. Adriana holds her armrests, looking terrified. I grin at her.


    ¡°One.¡±


    ¡°Two,¡± I say.


    I yank back the shift into drive and peel off before he can say three. Tires scream and smoke billows around my car. I yank the steering wheel to the left, cutting off the other cars as I stamp down on the gas. Adrenaline burns through my veins as my back ms into the seat.


    ¡°HOLY SHIT!¡±


    She screams as the tires squeal, when I make a wide left turn. Frank inches up closer beside me on the right. It¡¯s a mad race. I weave in and out between cars, cursing as Frank¡¯s Lexus darts in front of two cars I¡¯m trying to squeeze in between. Adriana lets out a high-pitched scream as I shove my car between them, almost causing a car crash.


    ¡°ARE YOU CRAZY?¡±


    I throw my head back andugh with the sheer joy of it all, mming it towards Frank. Other cars start to weave closer like a hive of bees pursuing a target. Luckily, this highway is pretty much straight.


    God, it¡¯s a rush. I¡¯m going so fast that every car seems to move extremely slow. I easily switchnes, forcing the others to retreat as I power on ahead. It¡¯s all a blur of white and yellow. Then I slow down, because there¡¯s too much traffic ahead. Adriana¡¯s mouth is open in a silent scream. She looks frozen.


    ¡°You okay?¡±


    She gives me a shakyugh. ¡°That was insane.¡±


    ¡°Want to do it again?¡±


    ¡°S-sure. Just be careful.¡±


    ¡°No such thing.¡±


    By the end of the second race, Adriana¡¯s face is white and I¡¯m worried that I scared her. I pull over to the side of the road and slide the top to reveal the skylight. It¡¯s a clear night and the stars wink above us peacefully. She is as still as a trained bird, staring ahead with wide eyes. I brush the hair from her shoulders and she shivers at my touch. I lean over and wrap my arm around her dainty shoulders. Her lips part as my other hand takes her chin.


    There¡¯s something in those dark pools that I can¡¯t yet identify. A healthy dose of fear, yes, but there¡¯s something else. She wants something from me, but is scared to get it.


    I take her trembling lips in mine and kiss her, my hand moving down her neck to the strap of her tank top. It feels incredible, like electricity shooting my lips. I y with her strap, sliding my fingers through to stroke her. She moans into my mouth and my hand dips lower to brush over the soft skin. My thumb strokes the top of her breast while the rest curls around. I squeeze her and grab the back of her neck. She kisses back timidly, her lips soft against mine.


    Slowly, I¡¯m losing control. I want to fuck her right in the backseat of my car. Her hands will be pressed against the window and she¡¯ll pant and moan for me. I want that so badly.


    ¡°Can we go to your ce?¡±


    She leans back, that fearful, timid look back on her face.


    ¡°Sure we can.¡±


    I try to ignore the groaning disappointment in my pants, but soon enough I¡¯ll have her alone.


    * * *


    She sits down on my kitchen table, and when I take a seat next to her, her face blooms in color. I would have never pinned her as a shy girl.


    When I saw her with Cesare, I assumed she was an easyy. That asshole never really did put an effort into getting pussy. It¡¯s not like I don¡¯t get my fair share, but I¡¯m just not into banging girls to get notches on my belt. I just want one, and I wanted her. The way I see it, she was mine from the beginning. I knew her mother. I knew her way before that jerk-off waltzed in her life.


    It made meugh to see his pain when he barged into my house.


    Fuck. You don¡¯t know what pain is.


    When I think about it, I don¡¯t really know why I hate him so much. It alwayses down to the fact that he had her before I did. He touched her, tasted her, fucked her. When she belonged to me all along.


    ¡°Carmine, what¡¯s that on your neck?¡± She points at me, looking slightly paler than usual.


    I wipe my over my neck and my fingers glisten with blood. Shit. Some of it must have sttered on me. Definitely possible.This text is ? N?velDrama/.Org.


    Sloppy.


    Iugh it off as I get up and wash my hands, wiping my neck with a paper towel. ¡°Probably just from cutting myself shaving.¡±


    But I didn¡¯t shave today. She knows it and I know it.


    The implicit lie hangs over both of our heads, dangling there. She epts the lie handed to her and nods her dark head.


    I sit back down next to her, my cock hardening in my pants. She would look so hot bent over the kitchen table, with me nailing her from behind.


    ¡°Come here.¡± I pat my legs and she dutifully rises to her feet with a small smile. I take her hips and position her so that she¡¯s straddling my waist.


    Her hands flutter over my hair as she sits down over me. I¡¯m ovee with the feeling of her body sitting on myp, right over my throbbing cock.


    I want her.


    Her neck is smooth under my fingers. So frail. I wrap my fingers around her tiny neck and yank her towards me. I study her lips, her straight nose, tiny earlobes begging for a nibble, and her big eyes. Fear shines through them. What is she so fucking afraid of? I could give her something to cry about, but I¡¯m being nice. She has no reason to be afraid of me. Yet.


    She presses her finger over a round, circr scar below my neck. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    Everything inside me tenses when she touches it.


    Carmine, stop crying! Don¡¯t you dare look at me like that-you son of a bitch. You worthless fanook.


    My heart pounds and my teeth clench together. I want to shove her away. The sharp, circr sting still burns when she touches it.


    ¡°There¡¯s more,¡± she murmurs, looking down my shirt.


    Of course, there are fucking more.


    She touches each of them, and pain radiates in my skin, echoing from decades ago. I jerk away from her fingers.


    ¡°Don¡¯t.¡±


    Her fingers fly away. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    My hard-on is a distant memory. I bury my face into her chest and I try to think about her creamy tits, but my mind is on the scars lining my body. I don¡¯t even like taking off my clothes, because then they always ask questions. Questions I¡¯m not ready to answer, but I will when the time is right.


    Pulling back, I can see one forming on her lips. She swallows it down, looking somber.


    That¡¯s why she¡¯s perfect for me

 2-23

    VINCENT


    The blonde swings her ponytail as she watches me from the kitchen. She teased me all night with her skinf-tight, ck jeans, staring at me under her longshes with fuck me eyes. My cock gives a twitch in my pants as I imagine her gagged and bound on my bed, but the girl in my fantasies always looks like Adriana. Maybe banging Blondie will get my mind off her.


    Jack eats his penne a vodka, eye-fucking me when the blonde returns with a bottle, giving me such a seductive smile that it ought to be fined. I grab her tiny waist when she tries to leave and pull her onto myp.


    ¡°Mr. Cesare!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve been teasing me all night. It¡¯s rude.¡± She squeals when I squeeze her hips. ¡°Tell her, Jack.¡±


    Grinning, I nce towards Jack, who doesn¡¯t look at all amused. What¡¯s his goddamn problem?


    ¡°I think you should let her get back to work.¡±


    Fuck that. Adriana¡¯s fucking that scumbag, Carmine Lhesi.


    She¡¯s giggly, this girl. She ys with my hair, fucking it up, but I don¡¯t mind because her tits are in my face. Then I yank her closer to me and my lips crush against hers. I try to lose myself in her, tasting strawberries on her lips. It¡¯s all wrong. She¡¯s too soft. Blondie doesn¡¯t do anything for me. She squeezes my arms and pulls away, biting her lip.


    ¡°Something wrong?¡±


    I disguise my indifference with a smirk. ¡°What¡¯s wrong is I have to wait for your shift to end to get you alone.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the boss,¡± she leans in and mouths my ear. She bites my ear. ¡°Can¡¯t you send me home early?¡±


    Adriana used to do that. She would bite my ear and whisper filthy things that would make my dick so hard that I could pound nails. I don¡¯t even have a chubby with this woman.


    This isn¡¯t helping. All I think about is how much I miss her and agonize why the hell she¡¯s with Carmine. Seriously. What does he have that I don¡¯t?


    ¡°No, get your ass back to work.¡±


    I push her off myp and as she turns around, I lift my hand and p her ass. The sound cracks through the quiet, moody atmosphere. Her face burns a brilliant magenta as guests wheel their heads around and stare at me with contempt.


    Tacky. Not gentlemanly. I don¡¯t care.


    Jack glowers at me from across the table. ¡°You want to fucking embarrass me some more?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I snap, grabbing the ss of wine and draining it.


    ¡°I think you should leave the girl alone.¡±


    ¡°Oh, so now who I fuck is your business?¡±


    I don¡¯t care if he¡¯s the boss.


    ¡°I¡¯m just saying, you might regret it.¡±


    What the fuck is that supposed to mean?


    My jacket pocket buzzes and my hand dives into my pocket. I nce at the ck screen and a small shock runs through me.


    Maria.


    Adriana¡¯s roommate. What does she want? I jam it against my ear.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Hi Vince, it¡¯s Maria. You know-¡±


    ¡°I know who you are. Why are you calling me?¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s about Adriana.¡±


    My fingers bite into the phone. ¡°Adriana and I broke up, Maria.¡±


    She chooses to ignore that fact. ¡°Vince, she¡¯s in pretty bad shape. She¡¯s been drinking nonstop and she dropped all her sses.¡±


    My chest tightens. She dropped her sses? Jesus.


    I don¡¯t care, I don¡¯t care. I repeat it like a mantra in my head, but it doesn¡¯t make a fucking difference. I do care. Even if she¡¯s a fucking bitch and a liar. There¡¯s also the fact that Carmine and her make no sense together.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see how any of that is my problem anymore.¡±This text is ? N?velDrama/.Org.


    Her voice grows impatient. ¡°Oh,e on, Vincent. I know you guys are going through a rough patch-¡±


    Rough patch?


    ¡°She is fucking someone else, Maria. I want nothing to do with her anymore.¡±


    ¡°No, she¡¯s not! I don¡¯t think she¡¯s dating him, Vince. She hasn¡¯t spent a night away from here. Something is wrong with her. Something¡¯s not right.¡±


    I try to ignore the glee soaring in my chest.


    ¡°Tell somebody who cares.¡±


    ¡°Vince, you¡¯re all she has. She doesn¡¯t have any family-¡±


    I m the phone on the table, ending the conversation.


    Jack¡¯s eyes narrow at me. ¡°Who was that?¡±


    ¡°Her bitch friend trying to get me to help Adriana with her drinking problem. Like I give a fuck.¡±


    But my heart pounds with the possibility that maybe, maybe Maria is right. I know deep down that I¡¯m still in love with her. I can¡¯t rip it out of my chest, as much as I want to.


    You¡¯re acting like a fucking jerk-off. Fuck Blondie and forget about that bitch.


    Adriana¡¯s bodyys on the floor, her eyes zed as her hands curl around a bottle, choking on her own vomit. A chill grips my spine like icy fingers running down my back. Whatever my feelings are for her, I don¡¯t want that to happen.


    And it¡¯s my fault that she no longer has a mother. I remember the promise I made to her. To take care of her.


    But she¡¯s not mine anymore.


    I nce down at my te at the half-finished stracatto, but my appetite is long gone.


    Why did she have to fucking call me?


    There is a loud bang at the entrance and low, male yells. All thoughts of Adriana vanish as male choruses of ¡°Freeze!¡± make me sit up straight.


    I¡¯m already grabbing the piece strapped to my ankle. Truth be told, I never really got over the whole restaurant shooting. I feel like I¡¯m trapped in one of my nightmares. Fuck, not again. No-


    ¡°Put it down, Vince,¡± Jack says. ¡°We¡¯re being raided.¡±


    Men in business suits sh their badges as men in FBI vests prowl through the restaurant, weapons drawn.


    Oh, fuck.


    Shaking, I stand up with Jack and we make a beeline for the kitchens.


    Don¡¯t run. Just walk calmly. We need to get the fuck out of there before they get us.


    We enter the steam filled kitchens, my eyes focusing on the glowing, red EXIT sign. The kitchen staff look up as we enter.


    ¡°Mr. Cesare-Vincent!¡± A gruff voice yells out my name from behind.


    Fuck.


    I watch hopelessly as Jack hurries through the back of the restaurant. I turn around. A balding FBI agent shes his badge to me.


    ¡°You¡¯re under arrest.¡±

 2-24

    Tax fraud.


    Moneyundering.


    I fume as I sit behind a solid table, cameras pointed in my direction as I stare into the two-way mirrors. Bright lights st me overhead. I guess that it¡¯s supposed to bother me. I grin into the mirrors and sh those cocksuckers the bird.


    The balding prick sits across from me. He tries to scare me into talking by throwing out how many years I¡¯ll get in prison if I don¡¯t cooperate. ¡°Their sources¡± led them to my arrest. If convicted, I¡¯ll spend a minimum of thirty-five years in jail. The lies pour from his mouth as another prick leans over me, his tie almost touching my face. I guess he¡¯s trying to intimidate me.


    Are you fucking kidding me? I could snap him in half if I wanted to.


    A smile spreads over my face as he gives me what I¡¯m sure he thinks is a threatening leer. ¡°You¡¯re wasting your time. I¡¯m not going to talk.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not thinking straight. We¡¯ve had agents at that restaurant for weeks. We know you use it as a front.¡±


    No fucking way that¡¯s possible. All lies. Only a few people know. The manager of the restaurant, whose pockets are lined so deeply there¡¯s no way he¡¯ll talk, Jack, me, and maybe a few others in my crew.


    The blood drains from my head. I feel weak.


    The rat. The informant, whoever he is, telling my business to the feds. Only me. Why? Why haven¡¯t the others been targeted?


    ¡°I don¡¯t know anything about that. I¡¯d like to speak to mywyer.¡±


    I¡¯ve said that phrase so many times that it¡¯s practically burned in my brain. It could be the manager. Someone might have squeezed him to give up documentation that would prove all this shit. I¡¯ll have a fucking talk with him.


    Who the fuck would be so stupid?


    Whoever they are, they¡¯ll know that I know by now.


    ¡°We¡¯re willing to take information about the Rizzo Crime Family. We know that there¡¯s been friction, despite the truce you managed to forge.¡±


    The more he talks, the harder my heart pounds. I¡¯m going to find this rat fuck, and when I do, I¡¯ll cut off his balls and feed them to the dogs. Never in a million years would I rat on them, even though I hate Tony. I swore an oath. We don¡¯t talk to the police, even about our enemies.This text is ? N?velDrama/.Org.


    I swallow a lump in my throat. ¡°I¡¯d like to speak to mywyer.¡±


    ¡°I told you it was a waste of time.¡± The asshole leaning over my chair finally walks away, adjusting his tie.


    Agent Palmer gathers the man folder in his hands and fixes me with a heavy stare. ¡°He might not want to talk, but maybe your soldiers will. Maybe that short-tempered guy. What¡¯s his name? Oh yeah, Nicky Santoro. He already has a grudge against you for not making captain.¡±


    How. The. Fuck. Does. He. Know. That.


    I focus on keeping my face smooth. nk. Don¡¯t let them on to anything.


    The balding, humorless prick leaves me in the interrogation room as two cops in inclothes grab my arms, shoving me roughly. My shoulder jams into the doorframe.


    ¡°Hey, at least buy me dinner first.¡± I give him a wicked grin that he doesn¡¯t return.


    Cops are all the same. Egomaniac assholes with a lust for power. The higher up they are, the worse they get.


    ¡°Fucking waste of space guido.¡±


    He just wants me to rise to the bait.


    The cop grabs my arm and leads me down the hall, back to the holding cell.


    ¡°If I didn¡¯t do my job, you assholes wouldn¡¯t have one. You¡¯re wee.¡±


    ¡°Are you done running your mouth?¡±


    ¡°Are you done jerkin¡¯ off?¡±


    He unlocks the holding cell and I wink at him before he shoves me inside.


    ¡°Don¡¯t go anywhere.¡±


    * * *


    Jack¡¯s veined hands drum in front of me restlessly over the washing machine as he watches me, waiting for me to tell him what I know. That there¡¯s an informant in our crew. He¡¯s still dressed in his exercise clothes. Tracksuit and tank top. He still intimidates me. I know he can have me killed in a blink of an eye and that I¡¯d probably never see iting.


    That¡¯s why I¡¯m so nervous to tell him that there¡¯s a rat.


    It took hours to bail out of my holding cell, then I met with mywyer, and then I drove straight to Long Ind to Jack¡¯s house. I can¡¯t keep it from him any longer. Doing so risks my life, and the lives of everyone in the family.


    Sorry, Adriana. I can¡¯t protect you anymore.


    ¡°When¡¯s your court date?¡±


    ¡°In a few weeks.¡± My hands run over my suit, ttening it over and over again. ¡°I¡¯ve got to tell you something.¡±


    Jack sighs, knowing that my reluctance to speak is code for, ¡°I fucked up.¡±


    ¡°The feds picked up Adriana a few months ago. They didn¡¯t charge her, they just wanted information. She didn¡¯t talk.¡±


    I wait for the explosion of rage, for his hands to wrap around my throat and m me against the wall, but none of it happens.


    He just stands there, watching me.


    I guess I¡¯ll keep talking.


    ¡°Ever since then, I knew there was a rat in my crew. They know about the-what happened at one of my games. They knew Adriana was working for me. I didn¡¯t want to tell you because I knew you didn¡¯t trust her.¡±


    And I knew you would want her dead.


    Still, he doesn¡¯t move a muscle. He doesn¡¯t look at all surprised. ¡°Any leads?¡±


    I shake my head, balling my fist against my leg.


    ¡°It just so happens that Tony let me know about his concern that there might be an informant in his crew. It¡¯s possible that rat could be double-dealing with the police department, giving up information on both our crews.¡±


    I rake my fingers through my hair. ¡°Jesus.¡±


    His lip curls. ¡°That still doesn¡¯t change the fact that you should have told me the second you knew Adriana was picked up by them. I ought to bash your fucking face in.¡±


    The basement rings with Jack¡¯s cruel voice. When I speak, my tone is much lower.


    ¡°You would have killed her, and I was in love. What do you want me to say, Jack?¡± My voice trembles. ¡°She turned out to be a fucking liar. Hell, maybe she did talk.¡±


    ¡°No, she didn¡¯t.¡±


    The conviction in which he says it stuns me. Why is he suddenly on her side? What am I missing? He never trusted her. Jack let me know every fucking day that he didn¡¯t approve.


    ¡°How are you so sure?¡±


    ¡°She wouldn¡¯t do that to you.¡±


    Now that we¡¯re broken up, she¡¯s a saint?


    ¡°She¡¯s fucking-¡±


    Jack loses his patience. ¡°Jesus Christ, you are so fucking stupid!¡±


    For the first time, Jack¡¯s voice raises to the ceiling. He even smashes his fist against the washing machine, which vibrates like a gong.


    I can¡¯t even begin to understand what the fuck is going on.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to go.¡± I don¡¯t think I can take much more of this. Jack¡¯s strange unconcern with the rat rms me much more than his statements about Adriana.


    ¡°Where the hell are you going?¡±


    ¡°To your strip club. Nicky¡¯s there.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t do anything stupid!¡± he calls out to me as I ascend the staircase.

 2-25

    Big, fake tits. As far as the eye can see.


    Topless girls in G-strings strut on a stage lit up in deep, purple lights. Johns are lined about around the circr perimeter, clutching one dors bills in one hand and their cocks in the other. In my ck suit, I¡¯m bathed in darkness.


    Strip clubs were never really my thing, but Nicky spends a lot of time here. At the bar, I see Nicky nursing a drink as he watches the girls on stage. My insides tense up.


    Even though I know that FBI fuckhead was wrong, I¡¯m still rattled by what he said. I still keep thinking, what if? What if Nicky really was pissed off enough to do something stupid? It wouldn¡¯t be the first time.


    A stripper with balloons for tits notices me as she finishing ap dance. ¡°Hi, Vince!¡±


    ¡°Hey, sweetie.¡± I give her a quick, cursory nod. ¡°I gotta go talk to Nicky.¡±


    Nicky sees me approach and slides off the stool, extending a short arm to me. ¡°Oh, he¡¯s back from the dead! How¡¯ve you been?¡±


    His small, round face grins widely. He has no clue what¡¯s been going on.


    ¡°My restaurant was raided by those fed cocksuckers. They seized everything.¡±


    ¡°Fuck.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. I don¡¯t got enough on my fucking te?¡±


    He pats my back, looking horrified. ¡°Jesus. Have a drink with me.¡±


    Yeah, I think I will.


    I sink into the stool with Nicky, who still watches me, dumbstruck.


    ¡°I¡¯ll have a whiskey.¡±


    The ss slides into my hand and as soon as I smell the harsh liquid, I remember Maria¡¯s plea for help. My lips burn when it glides down my throat, adding to the bitterness I¡¯m already choked with.


    ¡°You¡¯re still pissed off about Adriana, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    I m my ss on the table as Nicky¡¯s eyebrows crease. ¡°I can¡¯t believe she¡¯s with that piece of shit, that¡¯s all.¡±


    Heughs. ¡°Yeah, I saw them together the other day. She has no fucking idea what she¡¯s walking into.¡± He takes another drink.


    That¡¯s a weird thing to say.


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡±


    Nicky¡¯s small dark eyes suddenly look away. ¡°Are you sure that you want to know?¡±


    I hate these goddamn games. ¡°Just tell me, Nick.¡±


    Nicky shrugs his shoulders, looking flustered. ¡°One of the Rizzo guys told me some stories about him. The man has problems. He beat a stripper to death while he was high on coke.¡±


    Holy fuck.


    This is the man she prefers?


    ¡°Why?¡±


    He shrugs, suddenly letting out a bizarreugh. ¡°Who the fuck knows? Maybe she didn¡¯t want to suck his dick. Anyway, he did it right outside of the club. Tony forced him to pay off her family. She was just a whore, but still.¡±


    The empty ss might shatter in my hands, because I¡¯m holding it so hard. ¡°Jesus,¡± I finally spit out.


    ¡°As far as I know, it was only one incident. Maybe it¡¯s not a big deal.¡± Nicky shrugs.


    I stare at him. ¡°I fucking doubt that.¡±


    Sickness coats my stomach and I suddenly feel a crawling, disgusting emptiness. It expands like a sinkhole, and everything copses inside. I m the drink on the bar and wipe my hands on my knees.


    I need to tell her.


    ¡°Why the fuck didn¡¯t you tell me sooner?¡±


    He looks up from his drink, surprised. ¡°I thought-I mean you guys broke up, so it didn¡¯t really matter.¡±


    Still hazy from the whiskey, I stand up.


    I can¡¯t just let her date him without warning her, but thest thing I want is to show up at her dorm.


    Forget about how it looks. Could you live with yourself if anything happened to her?


    ¡°Vince, it¡¯s not your problem,¡± he raises his hands. ¡°Fuck that twat.¡±


    My hands twitch and zing heat scorches my face. ¡°Shut the fuck up about her.¡±


    * * *


    ¡°Open up!¡±


    I hammer the door to her dorm, trying to be quiet so I don¡¯t alert the RA on her floor. Then I decide I don¡¯t give a fuck.


    BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG.


    My fist rattles against the door again and again.


    A girl¡¯s voice growls behind the door as she struggles with the lock. ¡°Hold on. Jesus.¡±


    Adriana¡¯s tall roommate wrenches open the door, her snarling face calming down the moment she recognizes me. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s you. Hi.¡±


    ¡°Where is she?¡±


    Maria blinks through her shock. ¡°Um, she¡¯s not here, sorry. S-she¡¯s at a bar, actually. I was going to meet her, but maybe you can go instead.¡±


    At a bar. Perfect.


    ¡°She¡¯s at The Dead Poet.¡±


    Something resonates inside me. I¡¯ve heard of that bar, because it¡¯s right by my fucking apartment in Upper West Side.


    ¡°I know it. It¡¯s near my ce.¡±


    A knowing smile spreads across her mouth. ¡°She still loves you, Vince. I am sure of it,¡± she says in a low voice. ¡°She doesn¡¯t talk about him at all. A couple times, I wondered if she was forced into it.¡±


    I feel guilty for how hopeful that makes me feel. ¡°Whatever. Bye Maria.¡±


    ¡°Good luck!¡±


    My head is in a fog as I jog down the steps. Forced into it? Maybe he has already threatened her. I can¡¯t untangle my thoughts because they¡¯re all confused. There¡¯s something going on that I¡¯ve missed, and I know I have bigger things to worry about, but I can¡¯t shake the feeling that she¡¯s in trouble. She needs me.


    I speed towards my apartment, thinking that I could just walk to the bar. That¡¯s another thing-why did she choose a ce so close to my apartment? I¡¯m not a fucking egomaniac, but that must mean something. Right? Of all the bars in New York, she chose this one. A few blocks from my ce, hoping she¡¯d run into me.


    Okay, that¡¯s a stretch.


    The Dead Poet is a small, dark little ce. ck door, ck frame, ck everything. I¡¯ve never actually been inside. It¡¯s cramped inside, with dozens of frames with quotes. I spot her in the very back, buried in a mason jar of booze. I sweep through the throng of people quietly before she can make a scene.


    When I approach her, I see how thin her arms are. Her hair hangs lifelessly. Her face is pale and gaunt, and her lips move soundlessly. She doesn¡¯t even look up when I pull the chair out in front of her and sit down.


    Adriana looks like she¡¯s on the verge of a breakdown.


    What happened to you?


    My anger with her fades to the background because seeing her like this is like a vicious punch to my gut. She looks like a beaten dog.


    ¡°Ade.¡±


    She lifts her head and finally recognizes me. The look of misery on her face momentarily cracks. It¡¯s like a ray of sunlight hitting her face, making her glow for the first time in weeks. She smiles and then painfully buries it, turning her head away.


    ¡°W-why are you here?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m here because Maria called me. You¡¯re off the rails.¡±


    ¡°I can have a drink without her permission,¡± she snaps suddenly. ¡°Or yours.¡±


    The sharp look in her eyes makes me want to p her. I want to grab her neck and take her little pink mouth in mine, and then force her head over my cock.


    Jesus Christ, do not get hard in this ce.


    ¡°Maria says you hit the bottle everyday and that you dropped all your sses. sses that I paid for, by the way.¡±


    Her eyes gleam as she stares back down at the table, looking so low that my heart makes a sickening thud.


    ¡°Damn it, Maria,¡± she says under her breath. ¡°Why are you here?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m here to take you back home. You¡¯re not well without me and as far as I¡¯m concerned, you¡¯re still mine.¡±


    I didn¡¯t mean to say that.


    She looks up at me with the most strangest, hopeful expression. It¡¯s like a green light. Go ahead, do it.


    ¡°We broke up,¡± she says in a t voice.


    I ignore her. ¡°I also came to warn you about Carmine. He has a history of violence with women.¡±


    Suddenly, her back tenses. ¡°What? He¡¯s never-but he¡¯s so nice all the time. Are you sure?¡±


    I¡¯m d you and that asshole are getting along so well.


    ¡°Yes, I am.¡± She looks like she¡¯s on the verge of tears. ¡°You need to be very careful when you leave him.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not leaving him.¡± The corners of her mouth droop and she takes a shuddering breath.


    What? ¡°I¡¯m sorry, did you not hear me? He beat a girl to death, if you want to know the details.¡±


    Adriana flinches horribly and then shakes her head. She looks defeated. ¡°I heard you fine. It doesn¡¯t make any difference.¡±


    Doesn¡¯t make any difference?


    ¡°What the fuck is going on? I tell you that the man you¡¯re dating has issues with women, and you don¡¯t blink an eye?¡±


    Now I understand why Maria was convinced there was nothing going on between her and Carmine. She looks like she suffered years of misery.


    She lifts up her ss to her trembling lips, but I grab her wrist. She gives me a venomous look when I dig my thumbs into her wrist, forcing her to put it down. I drag the drink towards myself so that she can¡¯t grab it again.


    Adriana is like a shell. My hand lifts to her face to wipe the hair away from her eyes, which are like dark pools, shimmering with tears.


    ¡°We broke up, Vince.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, you keep saying that,¡± I say in a bored voice. ¡°I can tell by looking at you that you want me. Let¡¯s go home.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    I wait it out as she squirms in her seat, tortured but unable to pull herself away from me. Years of experience with worming information out of people makes me realize that she¡¯s on the verge of telling me something I¡¯m not supposed to know.


    Adriana¡¯s small face pulls away from my hand, even more tears streaking down her face.


    A sharp pain pieces my chest. This is torture for me. Torture.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what the fuck is going on, but I want no part in watching you destroy yourself.¡± I gesture towards the drink in front of her. ¡°This shit isn¡¯t going to make your problems go away.¡±


    I get up to leave and the chair scrapes the floor as I push it back.


    ¡°No, don¡¯t go!¡±


    She lunges at me and takes my hand, sobbing on it. Huge wracking sobs shake from her chest as she cries all over me. It¡¯s so loud that the other patrons nce at us nervously. My chest tightens horribly, and I can¡¯t help but feel it¡¯s all my fault.


    Shit.


    I move closer to her and stoop down, taking her thin shoulders in my hands. ¡°Adriana, let¡¯s go to my apartment. We can talk there,¡± I say in a low voice.


    Her eyes grow round like saucers. ¡°No, I can¡¯t!¡±


    I am going to smash something.


    ¡°I can¡¯t do this. You¡¯re fucking some other guy and you keep ying with me like I¡¯m your goddamn toy. I¡¯m sorry, but I need to move on.¡±


    Suddenly the tears subside enough for her face to burn a deep, angry red. ¡°Everything I¡¯m doing is for you, you piece of shit!¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    What does that mean? How-?


    Her face suddenly blushes and she looks horrified at her mistake.


    Jack¡¯s words suddenly echo in my head: ¡°Jesus Christ, you are so fucking stupid!¡±


    A sudden, nauseating thought drops in my head. A couple times I wondered if she was forced into it. What if she was?


    She buries her face in her hands and yanks on her hair. Adriana looks quite deranged. ¡°Oh, God.¡±


    ¡°Ade, is someone forcing you to be with Carmine?¡± My trembling hands seek out her head, but she stands up and ps cash on the table.


    She gets in my face, her lips trembling. ¡°If you ever cared about me at all, you won¡¯t interfere. You will not tell anyone.¡±


    I¡¯m right. I¡¯m so stunned that I almost let her walk around me. I side step in front of her, and she gives me a pleading look.


    ¡°You¡¯reing with me to my apartment, and you¡¯re going to tell me everything.¡±N?velD(ram)a.?rg owns this content.


    I feel scared, as if something I¡¯ve been avoiding is about to corner me. My hand closes over her wrist and then I drag her towards the exit before she can say a word.


    ¡°Vince!¡± She tries twisting her arm out of my hand. ¡°Let me go, or I¡¯ll scream!¡±


    I whirl her around so that her arms are against my chest, resisting against me feebly.


    ¡°Go ahead,¡± I grin as her pupils shrink into small circles. ¡°I¡¯ll knock you out if I have to, but you¡¯reing with me.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t understand! I can¡¯t be seen with you!¡±


    Who the fuck told her she had to be with Carmine? Jack?


    Heat rises in my face and my teeth clench together. All this time, he knew.


    He knew and never said a fucking word to me. The strange things he said about Adriana prove it. But why?


    Maybe the fear in her eyes isn¡¯t paranoia. Maybe it¡¯s real.


    ¡°Who is doing this to you?¡±


    She pulls away from me, still struggling. Her eyes are blinded with tears. ¡°Let me go, Vince. Please.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    She won¡¯t tell me? Fine, I¡¯ll drag it out of her. I steer her towards my apartment building. The streets are thankfully devoid of people. Her eyes dart around as if searching for something. Someone. Then she stops moving and her arm shakes in my grasp.


    A shadowy, male figure walks towards us. The streetlight illuminates the face I¡¯ve been seeing in my dreams thesest couple weeks, haunting me. Gloating at me.


    ¡°Carmine, thank God!¡±


    Adriana¡¯s strangled voice yells for him, and once again I feel a stab of betrayal. What is she doing?


    The fucking bastard looks calm and collected. He even has the nerve to smile at me. His windowless, empty eyes stare at me.


    Adriana tries to jerk out of my grasp, but I keep her against my chest. Every instinct inside me screams to keep her away from him. Not because she¡¯s mine, but because he¡¯s dangerous.


    ¡°Fancy seeing you here. Both of you.¡± His voice rumbles as he nces towards Adriana.


    I want to kill him so badly. I visualize myself reaching into my jacket pocket to grab my piece, to see his body jerk back when I pull the trigger. But I can¡¯t kill him here.


    ¡°It¡¯s not my fault. He dragged me from the bar. My roommate t-told him where I was.¡±


    The fucking lies. I let go of her roughly and she runs into Carmine¡¯s arms, who runs his hands anxiously over her face. ¡°It¡¯s all right, hon.¡± A smile twitches on his face. ¡°You¡¯re safe.¡±


    Adriana basically told me that she was not with Carmine out of her own will. She was crying, shaking, and miserable. Now, she lookspletely different. She looks at him like how she used to look at me, and it¡¯s like all the air left my lungs. She lurks behind him, fear suddenly blossoming on her face as she looks over Carmine¡¯s shoulder, directly in my eyes. She mouths something: Don¡¯t.


    ¡°I had a feeling she might be here when she wasn¡¯t returning my calls, and I was right. I can see that you don¡¯t give a damn about what she wants, but maybe you¡¯ll care if I put a fucking bullet in your head. Stay the fuck away from my girl.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s not-¡± My voice stops when I see Adriana violently shaking her head. I need to at least find out what¡¯s going on before I do anything. I¡¯m so fucking confused, I want to scream.


    My stomach turns as I realize that the whole break-up might have been a farce. Something to keep me away from both of them.


    I shrug at Carmine, gritting my teeth when I see Adriana wrap her arm around his. Then I turn my back on him, even though everything inside me fights against it.


    Besides, I have work to do.


    I need to find Jack.


    I¡¯m going to find him and kill him.

 2-26

    There¡¯s a garroting wire I always keep in my trunk. Perfect for this kind of thing. Usually when wiseguys whack each other, it¡¯s silent. Friendly, even. They never know it¡¯sing. Your friends will be around you, smiling andughing, and suddenly you¡¯ll feel a punch in your chest and then you¡¯re bleeding on the floor, looking down a nozzle. Bam. Dead.


    Whacking a boss is no joke, though. The other families could exact revenge on me. Or another captain. I¡¯ll need to leave town for a long time. Probably indefinitely. I¡¯ll take Adriana with me.


    I¡¯m not exactly in the best state of mind to think about ns.


    I just need to sneak up on that sick fuck and strangle him until he stops kicking. There is the problem of his wife being in the house, but I¡¯ll deal with that when I get there.


    He fucked me over. Whatever deal he has with Carmine cost me the love of my life. He made her suffer.


    And for that he¡¯s going to die.


    My car screams down the highway to Long Ind. I¡¯m going so fast that I realize I might die on the way to kill Jack, so I slow down.


    Why did she get forced into this? And why won¡¯t she let me help her?


    I think of them together, of the things she must be doing with Carmine until I feel so sick with anger. I pound on the steering wheel and scream my head off. Part of me wants to wheel around and drive straight towards Carmine and run him over, but I can¡¯t kill him while Adriana¡¯s there. The car explodes with a long string of the most vile insults I can think of and before I know it, I¡¯m almost at Jack Vittorio¡¯s house. The boss of the family. My father figure.


    Some father you were.


    I rip open the glovepartment and quickly pull on the ck leather gloves. I¡¯m parked a safe distance from the house, so I get out and open the trunk. I slip the garroting wire inside my jacket, the silencer, even a ckjack, and all the tools I need to kill. Because I¡¯m determined to see him dead.


    There¡¯s the slightly problematic thing that I want to ask him why. I want to hear him defend himself. If I kill him, I¡¯ll never get that.


    Creeping through backyards of neighbors, I vault over the fence into his yard and I see him standing on his back porch, smoking a cigar. Fucking perfect. I¡¯m hiding behind the trees. All I have to do is keep moving from shadow to shadow, and sneak up behind him, or wait until he turns around. And then I¡¯ll have him. Or I can just shoot him now.


    Some of the fire leaves me. How could Jack do this to me?


    My jacket buzzes and I curse under my breath, opening it to read whatever the fuck someone¡¯s texting me.


    Come home. We need to talk. ¨C Ade


    I read it several times until the white burns my eyeballs. Come home now? My lips touch the screen.


    Jack stares into the darkness, almost as if he can sense me there. He digs the cigar in the heel of his shoe, the red light snuffing him out. Then his back turns towards me. He walks towards the sliding ss door, and opens it.


    Then he¡¯s inside.


    I sit there, stewing. I inhale the scent of the trees and think about her message, imploring me to wait.


    Fine, Adriana. I¡¯ll wait.


    One day won¡¯t make much of a difference for me.


    For Jack? It might just be hisst night alive.N?vel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.


    ADRIANA


    What the hell am I going to do?


    I pace in the darkness of my dorm. I finally got rid of Carmine after giving him an excuse that I didn¡¯t feel well, and then he dropped me to my dorm. Maria¡¯s out with her boyfriend, so I have a few, precious hours of blessed silence and solitude.


    When I think about my problems a few months ago, I want tough. A few months ago, all I had were a few debts, a crazy mother, school, and a dead dad. Compared to this, it was child¡¯s y. I have threats hanging over my neck, making me so ill that I can barely move. On the way to the casino the other day, I had to stop to vomit in a trashcan.


    My gaze shes towards the mini-fridge where I know there¡¯s more liquid poison to drown it all out. And it makes it worse, but I can¡¯t stop.


    Even if it¡¯s destroying me.


    I stoop down to my knees. Powerless, I open the door and grab the cool bottle of vodka. I grab the coffee mug and pour. Then I wince and down it.


    It slips harmlessly down my throat. Water. Maria must have dumped it all.


    Shrouded in darkness, I almost trip over the abandoned mathematics books from all my sses and my heart sinks. Maria lets me squat in the dorm, even though I¡¯m technically not supposed to be here.


    Goddamn it. I¡¯m sopletely screwed.


    Is there no escaping this?


    I¡¯m sick of being his pawn. I¡¯ve sacrificed everything and I let him control me.


    Not anymore.


    I have to let go of my fear and ept the possibility that I might die, and be okay with that. I chose this when I chose Vincent. This life is anything but morous. It¡¯s murky and deadly.


    Vince is going to do something. I know he is. I knew it when I saw the shadow in his eyes when I went to Carmine. He won¡¯t stand for this, and he¡¯ll be killed. He won¡¯t see iting.


    But I do.


    I can stop it.


    Adrenaline sears through my veins, clearing my mind of all that foggy poison. The steps areid out in front of me clearly. It¡¯s so simple that I don¡¯t know why I never thought of it before. I know exactly what to do.


    My hand dives into my purse to grab my cell phone. I open it and quickly type a text message to Vince: Come home. We need to talk. ¨C Ade


    I won¡¯t y by Tony¡¯s fucking rules anymore. I won¡¯t stay away from him. The monsters who destroyed my life when I was a child won¡¯t destroy my adult one, too. No more.


    It¡¯s time to fight fire with fire.

 2-27

    I let myself in Vince¡¯s apartment with the same key I was supposed to get rid of months ago. He never changed the locks. I allow a small smile to myself.


    Nothing has really changed, except the ce looks a bit messier. His clothes are haphazardly thrown in theundry basket, which looks like it¡¯s been piled up for days, and there¡¯s a stack of dishes in the sink. He was always so meticulous about keeping everything clean.


    Somehow this little derailment of his habits makes me choked up. I copse onto the couch and my fingers graze over a discarded jacket. It still smells like him.


    I¡¯m tired as fuck and I could sleep for years. My head sways a little. I get up to keep myself awake and I wander into Vince¡¯s study. He never used it. It was always my ce to work. The big mahogany desk was perfect for spreading all my books to study. Sometimes, Vince would keep mepany and read a book. I smile at the memory.


    A jacketed arm suddenly slides around my neck and yanks me hard. I grapple with the steel arm around my throat and utter a scream as he spins me around. My back hits the wall and I stare into Vince¡¯s livid eyes.


    ¡°Shit, it¡¯s you.¡± He shoves me, suddenly angry. ¡°I could have killed you.¡±


    I didn¡¯t even hear himing. My heart¡¯s still beating in heart attack territory, and I smooth my hands over my neck, coughing. For a moment, he looks just as scared as I feel, but then his eyes narrow.


    His hand wraps around the back of my neck and squeezes. My heart thumps wildly as he forces my head to look up, and then his hot lips are on mine. His body rustles against mine, pinning me against the wall as I respond hungrily. It¡¯s like he¡¯s stolen every drop of energy in my blood and now there¡¯s only a faint buzzing. My hands lift to his sides and I wrap my arms around him, squeezing so hard that he grunts.


    I missed him so fucking much.


    I pull his head against my mouth, my lips trembling into a moan as warmth spreads over my skin, where he¡¯s touching me. Desire, so absent these days, mes into a raging forest fire. I haven¡¯t touched him in weeks, and now we¡¯re alone and he¡¯s all mine.


    He pulls back, breathing hard, his face only inches from mine. ¡°I had to do that after watching that fucking asshole with his hands all over you.¡±


    The grittiness in his voice makes the heat rise in my cheeks. I feel faint. Dizzy. Like the first time he kissed me. I ce a palm on his chest to steady myself.


    ¡°Vince, I-¡±


    ¡°You have some ballsing here, you know. I could have taken care of that prick. Why did you stop me? Is this another one of your fucking games?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not supposed to be here, but I can¡¯t stay away from you. I can¡¯t do it without you anymore.¡±


    Vincent¡¯s angry breath blows a strand out of my face. ¡°You¡¯re speaking in fucking riddles.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    His hand is still balled in my hair and his fingertips brush the base of my neck. A cruel grin spreads across his face. ¡°You¡¯re sorry? Oh, that¡¯s fucking nice. I¡¯ve just spent thest couple months looking like Joe Jerk-off to everyone I know, because the woman I was going to marry dumped me and ran into the arms of another fucking mafioso.¡±


    His fingers curl in my hair and I wince at the pain. I want to defend myself, but then he runs a thumb down my neck and a violent shiver runs up my leg. The sharp contours of his body dig into mine, and I slowly move my hands around his rock hard waist to the base of his lower back.N?velD(ram)a.?rg owns this content.


    ¡°Do you know what that was like for me? People in this business don¡¯t respect a man whose fiancee runs off to another guy. Especially one that¡¯s fucking connected. I should kill Carmine. You had my ring on your finger. He should have left you alone.¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t like I had a choice. I can tell you everything if you just-¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not in the mood to listen. Do you want me back, Adriana?¡±


    The condescending tone makes me flinch, but his free hand wraps around my breast and squeezes hard. His hot mouth and lips wrap around my ear as his erection digs into my hip. My core clenches when I feel the outline of him.


    Of course I want you back.


    ¡°Maybe I don¡¯t want you back. Maybe I¡¯m just going to fuck you and throw you back outside. I¡¯ll leave you with asting memory of my cock before letting you go back to that fanook. But before you even touch it, you¡¯re going to have to beg for it.¡±


    So we¡¯re ying that game.


    His hand still wrapped around my neck, he leads me out of his study and guides me down the hall by using his palm to push my ass forward.


    ¡°Vince, I should tell you-¡±


    A loud, ringing p on my ass cuts off the rest of my words. My body flinches again as his digs his fingers in my flesh painfully.


    ¡°Shut up and keep walking.¡±


    We stop at the foot of the bed and Vincent¡¯s hand finally drops from my neck. I need to tell him!


    ¡°Vince, I need to tell you something!¡±


    ¡°It can wait.¡±


    A low growl reverberates in his throat before he rummages in his drawer for something and a loud noise that I instantly recognize as duct tape makes my limbs tremble. He walks in front of me and tears a strip off with his teeth.


    ¡°Maybe you¡¯ll learn to shut the fuck up with this on.¡±


    I¡¯m horrified as he approaches me with the piece of tape. The Vincent I need-the one who will listen to logic and reason, isn¡¯t present. The darkness took over him. He¡¯s in a mood and I¡¯ll have to appease the monster to get Vincent to listen to me.


    His lips quirk as he ttens the tape over my lips, his forehead against mine. The fingers trace my cheek and lips, and he leans in ever so slightly to kiss the imprint of my mouth. I can see a sh of him-the man I love, in his tender gestures.


    Then he moves behind me and yanks my arms behind my back, and the sweet moment is lost. Something metallic jangles as he ps cold steel around my wrists and tightens. I try to pull them apart, but an unyielding chain prevents me. Fuck.


    His lowughter washes over me as he watches me struggle. Taking my handcuffs, he twists them so the metal digs into my wrists and pushes me over the bed. My face hits the bed and his peals ofughter dig into my brain.


    ¡°Aw, are you angry with me?¡±


    I am.


    I try to twist around, but he has his hand on my back. I¡¯m not sure if I want to kiss him or scream at him. Then I hear the sound of scissors snapping. I moan into the duct tape as I feel them scraping against my skin. My t-shirt falls from my back as he slices it off.


    We¡¯ve never done this before. A rush of energy goes straight between my thighs. There¡¯s something incredibly hot about being wanted so badly that he¡¯ll rip the clothes right off my body.


    He sets the scissors down and tears my shirt off with his hands. I feel his fingers moving over my bare skin and barely suppress a shudder. I hear it ripping. Then he bundles the ruined fabric in his hands and throws it on the opposite side of the bedroom.


    The coolness of the metal stings my shoulder as he slips them under my bra strap.


    Snap.


    The cool air makes my nipples contract, but then I feel a bounce on the bed and a silk tie trailing on my back, and suddenly his hands are wrapped around my breasts. The heat from his hands feels incredible, and then he bends over to kiss my naked shoulder, and I want him so badly that my entire body convulses when I feel his lips on my bare skin.


    ¡°Your body betrays you, Adriana. You want me. You need me. And I¡¯m going to hear you beg for me.¡±


    I moan into that little strip of tape covering my lips as he gives my breasts a final squeeze and then the bed bounces again as he stands up over it. His hands move around my jeans. Fingersboriously unbutton my jeans. The sound of the zipper makes me moan in anticipation and then I feel him tugging them down. They glide down my legs and I kick them off. Vince returns to the bed, the mattress groaning. He slips a finger down my panties and I feel his body against my back. I want to turn over, to touch him. I miss him so badly that tears of relief bead in my eyes.


    He gives a deeply satisfied sound as his finger slips down my incredibly wet core. Then he squeezes my ass after slipping his hand out, and I know he¡¯s dying to spank me and hear my screams lift to the ceiling.


    But instead I feel something cool and metallic slipping inside my underwear.


    ¡°Let¡¯s see how well you handle this.¡±


    There¡¯s a clicking noise, and suddenly the small, metal ball is vibrating inside my panties. Vince reaches around my waist and slips his hand in between my panties he adjusts it until I can feel it vibrating against my clit, and then my back arches almost as if there¡¯s an invisible hand pressing down.


    Oh my God.


    He rotates it so that I never really get the full st of pleasure, but it¡¯s electrifying. All of a sudden, I want his thickness inside me to ease the screaming ache. The vibrator teases every nerve ending around my sensitive clit, making me scream into my duct tape.


    Once again, his chuckles cut through my moans as he ys with me. ¡°I think you¡¯ll be begging me before long. Too bad I won¡¯t be able to hear you.¡±


    My chest heaves and I squirm against his hand, fighting against the ball vibrating against my most sensitive area. Every part of it calls for something thick and long to plunge inside my pussy. Vince turns my head and kisses the tape covering my lips.


    ¡°Stay there and don¡¯t flinch. I¡¯m going to watch you.¡±


    He walks around the bed. I¡¯m still bent over my waist, my hands handcuffed behind me. My nipples are as erect as his cock, and they rub painfully against theforter. Vince takes a seat at the chair beside the bed, crossing his legs. Dark eyes sh at me as I feel myself peaking. I¡¯m going to lose it if he doesn¡¯t take it out soon.


    He crosses his legs and stretches himself over the arms of the chair. His face lights up with a seductive smile. Vince wants me just as badly as I want him, but I¡¯ll need to put on a show for him.


    It vibrates between my legs, sending harsh, electrical shocks to my core. Holy shit. It¡¯s touching me in just the right spot. It¡¯s increasing and increasing, and I try to twist to get away from the constant stimtion, but another jolt sizzles through my clit. My legs convulse and I groan through the tape as a wave of pleasure crashes over me, but the fucking thing continues to buzz and almost immediately the pressure ramps up again. And Vince knows this. His smile lets me know.


    I look at him pleadingly, helpless with my arms handcuffed on my back. I try to plead him with my eyes. Please! I can¡¯t take this!


    ¡°You have no idea how sexy you look right now.¡±


    Another jolt strikes my core. With a muffled cry, I buckle my legs. He unwinds his legs smoothly and rises to his feet. Within seconds he¡¯s beside me.


    Tsking, he winds his head around my shoulder. ¡°I told you not to move.¡± He picks up a remote and I heave air through my nose as the frantic buzzing stops.


    I know what¡¯sing next and I grind my teeth in preparation.


    The pping sound is worse than the feeling of his palm striking my ass. I moan into the tape as he spanks me a second time, the burn spreading on the other cheek. He leans forward and rips the tape off my mouth. I gulp down air right before he spanks me hard, his fingertips searing into my flesh. Then he rubs the burn to soothe my pain.


    My shackled hands touch his legs, which stand behind me. Vince wraps his arms around me and slides his hand down my panties, and another smooth chuckle enters my ears. I blush as his fingers run up and down my clit, the sensitive area still throbbing.


    ¡°Vince, please. I want you.¡±


    ¡°I can tell.¡±


    I slide up, my fingers anchoring on his erection. ¡°You want me, too.¡±


    He yanks on my handcuffs, removing my fingers from his shaft. Then he grabs my shoulders roughly and spins me around so that I¡¯m looking into his eyes.


    ¡°Beg for it.¡±


    He takes my head in his hands and I waver on the spot, staring at his lips. The intensity rolling from his eyes makes my legs tremble. Vince¡¯s eyes flick down to my body and I can see the resolve in his eyes crumbling.


    ¡°I want you. I always want you. I was an idiot to think I could live without you.¡±


    His fingers pinch my neck. ¡°Yes, you were. What else?¡±


    ¡°I love you and I need you.¡±


    I¡¯ll say whatever the fuck he wants, as long as he fucks me, but it¡¯s one hundred percent true.


    My head tilts up as he moves a finger under my jaw, and then his heat envelops me. His mouth consumes my lips, biting and sucking. My nipples are rubbed raw against his jacket. Growling in my mouth, he rips it off. If I had my hands, I would unbutton his blood-red shirt. He grabs a fistful of my hair.


    ¡°Show me that you need me.¡±


    How can I show him?


    He lets me go and I look down at the erection tenting his pants. His hand weighs heavily on my head and I follow the pressure, dropping to my knees. Since I can¡¯t unzip his cks, he does it for me, gripping his cock in his right hand.


    We¡¯ve never it quite like this. I¡¯m surprised at how excited I am when he smacks it against my lips.


    ¡°Open.¡±


    I obey him and he passes through my lips with a deep sigh. I wrap my lips around him as I move my head up and down, sucking near his head. He groans every time I do it. Jesus. The sounds he makes are like a jolt to my core. I suck him harder, faster, eager to please him. Then he grabs my head and takes over, thrusting his hips. The length of him pulses inside my mouth, gagging me. He closes my lips with his fingers as he thrusts deep.


    ¡°Fuck, you feel so good.¡±


    He pulls out to let me breathe. I get a good few lungfuls of air before he buries himself again. I swirl my tongue around him and suck, asionally looking up into his strained gaze. Then he pulls out of my mouth.


    ¡°Get up.¡±


    He helps me stand and within seconds he kisses me harshly, his tongue forcing inside my mouth. I almost fall back from the force of his body.


    ¡°Your my fucking toy. Your body belongs to me.¡± He reaches down and slides two fingers between my legs. ¡°This belongs to me.¡± He says it in a gritty voice that makes my pussy clench over his fingers.


    My heart races when he suddenly picks me up in his arms and throws me over the bed. Ind on my back, the handcuffs digging into my skin. He tears the shirt from his head, his muscles rippling under his olive skin. His tanned arms grab my legs and he pulls hard, dragging me closer to him. Heart racing, my legs hook around his thighs and I feel the pebbled head of his cock pushing against me. The first thrust knocks the breath from my lungs. He doesn¡¯t wait for me to adjust; he dives in and pulls my hips against him in ruthless smacks.


    It¡¯s so much better than the vibrator, because that gaping emptiness fills with his thick length, which throbs inside me. Then he leans over my body, his face red as he lunges into me. The shock reverberates through my entire body, until it escapes my mouth in a moan. He wraps his arms around my shoulder, his face buried in my neck.


    ¡°I¡¯m yours. I belong to you.¡±


    He says nothing, but his cock digs into me, painful and amazing at the same time. Vince grips my neck and squeezes as his breaths be more frenzied. He pounds away at me, my legs wrapped around his waist as both of us lose ourselves in each other. The back of my mind screams for more. Faster. Harder.


    Vince yells out a mingled moan and swear word. His legs shake and my core clenches tight around him. The first spasm is like a fuse, and I contract around him as the best feeling in the world makes me copse on the bed. His cock jumps inside me, twitching as I feel bursts of him unleashing inside me. Then he reaches around the bed and pulls me on top of him, unlocking my handcuffs.


    I rub my wrists as Vince gives me a sleepy smile, pulling me close to give me a sweet kiss. The look in his eyes reminds me of when we were together. I¡¯m just so happy to be with him right now, even if it¡¯s only temporary. I hate to do this to him, to destroy this happy moment, but I have to. I nt a kiss on his damp chest and curl into his arms.


    ¡°Tony wanted me to break up with you. He¡¯s the reason all this happened.¡±


    Right away, his body tenses under me.


    ¡°His men followed me into the restaurant to make sure that I did it.¡±


    ¡°What the fuck? Are you making this up?¡±


    I push myself up and I give him a bewildered look. ¡°Why would I make it up?¡±


    Gradually, his face tightens as a shadow crosses his face. ¡°This whole fucking time Tony was behind this? Why?¡±


    I grab his shoulder as he tries to roll out of bed and pull him back. ¡°He was going to kill you and your mother if I didn¡¯t do what he said.¡±


    A spasm of fear moves up my leg when that ck look slides over his face like a dark mask. He¡¯s always been my protector, but sometimes I forget how dangerous he is.


    ¡°I¡¯ll fucking kill him.¡± He gently pushes me aside and sits up on his elbows. ¡°Why the fuck didn¡¯t you tell me?¡±


    This was exactly what I was afraid of.


    ¡°Please don¡¯t get angry, Vince. Please.¡± A sob suddenly shakes my throat at the shame I feel for lying to him. ¡°They didn¡¯t want you to know. They knew you¡¯d never let me-¡±


    His lip curls as he stares into the distance. ¡°He thought he could take my fiancee from me and give her to Carmine like somemon whore.¡±


    ¡°No, that¡¯s not what it was about,¡± I snap. ¡°Tony thinks Carmine is an informant. He wanted me to get close with him.¡±


    Rage infuses his face. ¡°What, like you suck his dick and he¡¯ll spill his secrets? I don¡¯t believe this!¡±


    ¡°Shut the fuck up!¡±


    The anger momentarily leaves his face as he stares at me in shock. It¡¯s probably the first time I¡¯ve ever sworn at him like that. My eyes slowly fill with tears and he moves beside me and wraps an arm around my waist.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t do anything with him.¡±


    ¡°I know. I¡¯m sorry,¡± he says in apletely different voice. His body trembles. ¡°You¡¯ll never have to see him again.¡± His hand tightens around my waist.


    ¡°I-I¡¯m supposed to meet them both tonight and tell them about my progress.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll meet them with you.¡± He bends over the bed and grabs his boxers, pulling them on. Then he yanks open a drawer and grabs a revolver.


    Jesus.


    I sit up on the bed and extend a hand. ¡°Vince, calm down.¡±


    ¡°Calm down? Are you serious?¡± He spins the revolver to check that it¡¯s loaded. ¡°They went behind my back and used you for their fucking needs. They¡¯ll both die.¡±


    The way he speaks scares the shit out of me. ¡°First of all, I was the one who wanted to do it. Jack tried to talk me out of it. Second, you can¡¯t just go charging down there. You can¡¯t kill a boss.¡±


    He ms the revolver on the dresser, his hands balled into fists. ¡°What the fuck do you mean about Jack?¡±


    My lip trembles at the betrayal shining on his face. ¡°I wanted to do it for you. You¡¯ve always done so much for me and I¡¯ve never really paid you back. I¡¯ve never been able to show how much I love you.¡±


    He looks like his whole body throbs with pain. ¡°You think I wanted this? You think any of this makes me feel better? Tony and Jack used you this whole fucking time and I waspletely clueless. I could have fucked around with other women.¡±


    I wince and look away from him, but at the same time I feel a wave of relief.


    He could have, but he didn¡¯t.


    ¡°I just wanted to keep you safe-¡±


    ¡°That is not your fucking job!¡± He paces around the bed, looking outraged. ¡°And it¡¯s not worth it if you¡¯re drinking yourself to your own death, and if you¡¯re dropping all your sses. Jesus, Adriana! What were you thinking?¡±


    ¡°I was thinking about you and your mom.¡±


    And in the end, I wasn¡¯t strong enough to hold up the charade. I caved like a weakling.


    ¡°How the fuck were you supposed to find out anything about Carmine? That guy is not going to leave a fucking wire lying around. He¡¯s not a moron!¡± He shakes his head violently.


    ¡°We just have to be patient. I¡¯m getting to know him, he¡¯s told me things he¡¯s never told anyone-¡±


    He wheels around, giving me a very angry look. ¡°For Christ¡¯s sake, Adriana. This thing with you and Carmine is fucking done. Don¡¯t even think about it. End of fucking story.¡±


    My heart thuds against my chest when I see that frightening look directed towards me. ¡°I can¡¯t just stop now. I told you, I¡¯m meeting with Jack and Tony today.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going with you.¡±


    I inhale a shuddering breath as I look at his determined figure. There¡¯s no way he¡¯ll let me go on my own. ¡°I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s a good idea.¡± I bite my lip thinking of what Tony will say when he finds out.


    Fuck.


    He gives me a small smile. ¡°It¡¯s toote for regrets, Ade.¡±

 2-28

    Down a darkened street, we walk together. It¡¯s some ce in East Vige, and even though I know the chances of running into Carmine are slim, my hand still slips in Vince¡¯s grasp. I grind my feet to a halt when I see the silhouette of a man standing outside the pizza ce. The little pizza joint where I¡¯m supposed to meet Tony is just a block away.


    ¡°What?¡±


    I drag him to the side, out of view, and he follows reluctantly. He rolls his eyes when I press a finger to my lips.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if I can do this.¡±


    He¡¯s silhouetted in the night, and he steps closer to me. His hands wrap around my face, trying to soothe me. ¡°Baby, rx. We keep having this conversation every few blocks.¡±


    The vein on the side of my neck throbs. ¡°You don¡¯t know what it¡¯s like to be alone with that man. To have him hurt you.¡±


    He clutches my hand and squeezes hard. I never told him about that. ¡°You¡¯re not alone anymore. You¡¯ll never be alone again.¡±


    I just don¡¯t know.


    ¡°C¡¯mon,¡± he says, trying to nudge me.


    I¡¯m ttened against the wall. ¡°Promise me you¡¯ll stick to our n, Vince.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t like it,¡± he growls.


    ¡°It¡¯s the only way to save both our asses.¡±


    ¡°Jack won¡¯t buy it. Tony might.¡± His head moves down the street as his fingers caress my neck. ¡°It¡¯ll buy you enough time to search his office, and that¡¯s it. I won¡¯t let you go to his house.¡±


    ¡°Ok, fine.¡± Inwardly, I have no idea how I¡¯ll be able to stall Carmine.


    His face twists. ¡°He¡¯s still going to fucking die. Just not tonight.¡±


    I don¡¯t share Vincent¡¯s lust for revenge. It will be a miracle if we get out of this unscathed. I look aside to his hard-set jaw, which betrays none of his fear. He¡¯s a powerful force, and I feel sorry for whoever will pay for his wrath. He¡¯s always been expressive. Vince lets the whole world know what he¡¯s feeling. He doesn¡¯t hide from anyone, but now I¡¯m asking him to. For both our sakes.


    The guard posted at the restaurant gives Vince a once over and frowns at me. ¡°He¡¯s not supposed to be here.¡±


    ¡°Too fucking bad,¡± Vince snaps.


    Easy.


    I squeeze his hand and look inside the low-lit restaurant, and they¡¯re nowhere in sight. The guard pats down Vince, taking his concealed guns before opening the door for us. The air inside the restaurant feels shallow. I take in deep lungfuls, jumping at every sound. Red-checkered tablecloths cover every surface. Vince¡¯s hand at my backforts me, letting me know that he¡¯ll always protect me. Behind the booths, Jack and Tony sit, concealed from the front of the restaurant. Jack looks unhappy. He turns around at the sound of us walking and utters a strange, hissing noise when he recognizes Vince. Tony¡¯s balding head turns towards me, rage emanating from his pores as he gives me that dark smirk.


    ¡°Cesare, good to see you.¡±


    ¡°I hear you¡¯ve been busy making deals behind my back with my girl.¡±


    A few seconds of ringing silence follow Vincent¡¯s smoldering voice.


    Jack rises to his feet and steps towards Vince, who stiffens. ¡°Calm down, Vince.¡±


    His fingers bite into my waist. ¡°I¡¯m having a real fucking hard time staying calm, Jack. You lied to me.¡±


    Tony wipes his meaty hand across his mouth, looking agitated. He shoots me a death re. ¡°I cannot believe you fucking told him.¡±


    I can feel him trembling with the effort of holding everything inside. Please, Vince.


    ¡°Don¡¯t talk to her. You have no fucking right to talk to her. She¡¯s my responsibility. If you wanted something from her, you should have asked me first.¡±Belongs ? to N?velDrama.Org.


    The smirk of rage on Tony¡¯s face falters. He looks confused. ¡°Why don¡¯t you both sit down?¡±


    He pulls out a chair for me before sitting down himself. Vince¡¯s hand rests over my thigh possessively, and he gives me a gentle squeeze as he eye-fucks Tony.


    Careful, Vince.


    ¡°What do you want?¡± he growls.


    Vince¡¯s face twitches. ¡°I¡¯m willing to not retaliate based on the interest of bringing peace to our families. I¡¯m not giving you any of my action anymore. I think that¡¯s fair, considering you decided to treat my fiancee like a whore.¡± His voice rises towards the end of his sentence, the outrage breaking through the cracks.


    Jack leans in. ¡°Vince, she wanted to do this.¡±


    His face burns. ¡°I have nothing to say to you, Jack.¡±


    Tony smirk deepens and his eyes lower, looking impressed with Vince. ¡°Fine, but I still need her to get close to Carmine.¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you just search his apartment while he¡¯s gone?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you think I haven¡¯t fucking tried everything already? The guy is smart.¡±


    I lean in across the table. ¡°I¡¯m getting closer to him, Tony. He¡¯s told me things about his mother he¡¯s never told anyone. She used to burn him with cigarettes. I saw the scars on his chest.¡±


    The cool facade Vince adopted sharply drops away. The disgust on Vince¡¯s face fills me with guilt.


    Tony waves off my information. ¡°Who the fuck cares about that? I need to know who he¡¯s talking to. I need proof.¡±


    ¡°All I¡¯m saying is that I¡¯m getting closer to him. I¡¯m getting there. Just be patient.¡±


    Vince gives me a sharp look. ¡°You¡¯re not going to his house anymore, goddamn it.¡±


    ¡°Vince, I need to! I still haven¡¯t-¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll shut the fuck up and do as you¡¯re told, or you¡¯ll get my fucking hand across your face. You¡¯ve disgraced me by sleeping with that asshole.¡±


    Even though I expect it, even though he told me he would have to say those things, it still hurts to hear those wordse out of his mouth and to see the contempt on his face.


    ¡°I did not sleep with him.¡±


    ¡°Vince, shut the fuck up.¡± This time, the orderes from Jack, whose troubled gaze is fixed on Vince.


    Lips trembling, I look down at my hands in myp.


    ¡°You just keep doing what you¡¯re doing, and all your debts will go away.¡±


    He smiles at me kindly without bringing up the fact that he repeatedly threatened to have the man sitting next to me killed.


    Fuck you.


    ¡°And you,¡± Tony growls. ¡°Stay the fuck away from her when she¡¯s with Carmine. We need to figure this out. For both our families¡¯ sake.¡±


    I take that as our cue to leave. Vince says nothing as he stands up from the table, shooting Jack a poisonous look as I stand up, too. His face is stony as I follow him out of the restaurant, following swiftly by Jack. Vince¡¯s mask slides away, revealing white-hot rage. His fingers clench and open, as though itching to ce them around Tony¡¯s throat.


    ¡°Vince, hold on a second,¡± Jack calls out as I struggle to meet Vince¡¯s strides. ¡°Let me exin.¡±


    He stops for a moment and lifts his head, as though searching for self-restraint. I take ahold of his wrist.


    ¡°Jack, you¡¯re lucky you¡¯re the boss. Stay the fuck away from me.¡±


    Taking my hand, we walk across the street, away from Jack. I look over my shoulder and see him standing there, his hands deep in his pockets.

 2-29

    tes and tes of food cover the dining room table: baked ziti, roast beef in the homemade gravy, sd, Italian country bread. Maria slides up next to me as I salivate over it all barely able to keep myself from taking this or that.


    ¡°Thanks for inviting me. I haven¡¯t been to a Sunday dinner in a long time.¡±


    She grins. ¡°Of course.¡±


    A squirm of desire rustles inside me when she raises her winess and bumps it against mine, which is filled with soda. It¡¯s nice to get away from all the mafia shit for a little bit. Still, I feel a twinge of guilt when I think about Vince eating dinner with his mother, who still thinks we¡¯re broken up. I wonder if she hates me. She must.


    Maria¡¯s mother wraps her arms around me and kisses my cheeks when she sees me, looking distraught. ¡°Honey, I¡¯m so sorry to hear about your engagement.¡±


    It takes me a moment to realize what she means. Oh, yeah. We broke up. Sort of.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, really. I¡¯m doing fine.¡±


    Her eyes widen a little bit. I suspect Maria may have told her about my recent decline into drinking myself to a stupor every night. Without Vince, I wouldn¡¯t have been able to stop.


    ¡°What about your sses, honey?¡±


    ¡°I sorted them out with my professors. They gave me withdrawals instead of failing grades. I told them what happened and they went easy on me.¡±


    Thank God for that. I¡¯m skating on thin ice at that school. My heart skips a beat. I¡¯m already feeling anxious about it. I don¡¯t like getting bad grades in anything, but I was a bit preupied. I still am. Poor Vince wasted a semester of tuition for nothing.


    We sit down to eat and I have the first decent meal I¡¯ve had in a long time. I sigh as the sweet tanginess of the meatballs hits my tongue. While we¡¯re eating, the TV res in the background.


    ¡°-forty-five year old Detective Cramar, father of three, has been missing sincest Wednesday. On Friday, his wife made an emotional plea for her husband¡¯s return. At the moment, the police department suspects foul y, but there were no signs of a struggle at the detective¡¯s home-¡±


    Maria¡¯s mother lifts an irritated head. ¡°Jackie, can you shut that thing off!¡±


    ¡°I want to hear it,¡± her father counters.


    ¡°Turn it off! I won¡¯t have the TV on while we¡¯re eating.¡±


    Her snappy retort closes the argument and I try not to look at the TV desperately before it shuts off. The meatball turns to ash in my mouth. I don¡¯t know why I feel so shaken. Jesus, I can¡¯t get away from all this, even when I try.


    At the end of dinner, the police officer is out of my mind. Maria¡¯s mother presses a tupperware stuffed full of leftovers in my hands.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, really Mrs. Foresta.¡±


    ¡°Take it,¡± she insists, pinching my forearm. ¡°You¡¯re too skinny. You need to eat more.¡±


    I smile at her, waving at Maria as I leave the house. The sky¡¯s dimming to a dark orange hue and I feel pretty good. Maybe I¡¯ll go to Columbia¡¯s student center and y a bit of pool, challenge some of the students to a game or two. As I hear the sound of a car behind me, I instinctively walk to the right, away from the curb. A brown car suddenly stops beside me, the windows rolled down.


    ¡°Adriana!¡±


    Fuck, what now?


    A familiar man sticks his head out the window. Agent Palmer.


    ¡°Get in.¡±


    * * *


    Never thought I¡¯d be back here again.


    They have me in the same room, but it looks smaller because there are at least four agents surrounding me. Some are standing up, looking down at me like I¡¯m scum.


    Forcing the jumpy feeling down, I swallow hard. I¡¯ve done nothing wrong. Nothing.


    ¡°Long time no see, Ms. Baldino,¡± Agent Palmer raises an eyebrow. ¡°So you¡¯re dating Carmine now, huh?¡±


    What the fuck do they care?


    I sit there m-shell, arms crossed tightly over my chest.


    ¡°So Vince¡¯s legal problems no longer interest you?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with Vince?¡± I ask despite myself.


    The one standing over me, a young guy who looks Italian, gives me a smirk. ¡°He was arrested a while ago: tax fraud, moneyundering. His court date is soon. Yeah, one of our witnesses came through.¡±


    Agent Palmer gives him a sharp look and he swallows the cocky look, turning around.


    What? What did he say?


    ¡°So?¡± I say aggressively. ¡°What¡¯s that got to do with me?¡±


    ¡°Besides the fact that we know you were present for the card game robbery and you witnessed two murders, and possibly a third, your former boyfriend is in a lot of trouble. He¡¯ll be lucky to ever see the light of day.¡±


    The bald man¡¯s face blinks tiredly at me. I never realized how perfectly symmetrical his whole face is, like a bored frog.


    ¡°We¡¯re willing to wipe his te clean-and yours, if you give us some information.¡±


    Crap.


    My heart thuds against my chest. This-this seems like a great opportunity, but Vince warned me countless times: Never talk to the police. I won¡¯t be able to protect you from them if you do. There¡¯s just too much at stake, and I can¡¯t trust them anyway. I shake my head. ¡°Sorry, but no.¡±


    An older man with round spectacles ms his fist on the table, and I jump.


    ¡°Are you aware about the disappearance of Officer Cramar?¡± he snarls.


    I flinch from the heat in his gaze. ¡°U-um yeah, I saw it on the news.¡±


    ¡°We know someone in one of the families did this. If you think the federal government is going to ignore a dead cop, you¡¯re out of your fucking mind. Talk to us. Give us something, and we won¡¯te down on all of you like a ton of bricks.¡±


    I lean forward, staring at him. ¡°I don¡¯t know anything about that. How could I?¡±


    Agent Palmer gives him a look. ¡°Ed, there¡¯s no way she would know about any of that-¡±


    ¡°Bullshit!¡± he screams suddenly. ¡°They let her work at their card games. She¡¯s obviously privy to more information than most women. One of his CIs killed him, and I know it¡¯s either the Vittorios or the Rizzos. It¡¯s always one of them.¡±


    But none of the agents seem to take him seriously.


    CI? Confidential informant?


    Informant.


    Carmine.


    He killed a cop.


    I stand up shakily, looking down at my white hands. ¡°I don¡¯t know anything and I¡¯d like to go now.¡±


    It might not be Carmine, I tell myself as they escort me out of the building. Killing a cop, is he insane? It might be him, or it might not be. The way he spoke, it almost sounded like there were multiple CIs. Or perhaps they have no idea of the identities of the CIs. Only the cops who dealt directly with them would. That would make sense.


    It¡¯s only until they drop me at the same block, that I realize I forgot the tupperware in the police station. Damn it.


    The car peels away, leaving me fighting for air as I look up and down the street. Hopefully, no one saw anything. Then I see something that knocks the air from my lungs.


    Carmine.


    Leaning against a fence with his arms crossed. Staring at me. He pushes off with a hand and slowly approaches me with a forced grin.


    RUN!


    Everything inside me screams to take off in the other direction. He saw. He knows. I can¡¯t move a muscle. His light eyes are fractured in the sunlight, reminding me of broken ss.


    ¡°What, no kiss?¡±


    A nervousugh leaves me throat. ¡°Carmine, I didn¡¯t expect to see you there.¡± I lean in and nt a kiss on his scruffy cheek.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t expect to see you with them.¡±


    His hand closes over my arm as he gives me a deadly look that makes my stomach fall. I¡¯ve never seen him like this. He¡¯s always been so nice. Sweet.


    I try to twist out of his arm. ¡°You¡¯re hurting me. I¡¯ve no idea what you¡¯re-¡±


    His nostrils re. ¡°Such a little liar.¡±Belongs ? to N?velDrama.Org.


    My arms twists behind my back as he maneuvers me around towards the car parked on the street.


    ¡°Carmine!¡±


    His arm pins me against his chest, his other hand holding my arm in a grip that sends stabbing pain up my arm with the slightest movement.


    ¡°Get in the car.¡±


    Tears burst in my eyes when I try to fight him off.


    ¡°I¡¯ll break your arm if you try to fight me off again. All it takes is a little bit of-¡±


    ¡°Stop!¡± The bones grind in my arm and I can feel them straining. It hurts so badly that I cry in relief when he stops twisting.


    ¡°Do as I say.¡±


    Vince, help me. Someone. Anyone!


    His arms drop from me as he walks in front of the car and opens the passenger door, unsmiling.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± I cradle my arm against my chest, sliding in the seat. Carmine ignores me, mming the door.


    Vince warned you. He said Carmine was dangerous, you just never believed him.


    I dissolve into tears as Carmine reenters the car with a murderous look on his face.


    ¡°Why are you doing this to me?¡±


    ¡°Because I just saw my girlfriend getting dropped off by a car full of feds.¡±


    My heart races and my throat feels cut off all air. This was what Vince always warned me about. ¡°Carmine-¡±


    ¡°Please shut the fuck up until we get to my house.¡±


    He¡¯s going to kill me, isn¡¯t he?


    We spend the rest of the ride in silence, tears streaming down my face continuously.


    The car barrels into the driveway. Carmine ms the brakes and we barely miss the garage.


    ¡°Fuck!¡±


    He gets out of the car and I scramble to get out first because I¡¯ve never been so scared in my life. I unbuckle my seat and open the car door, and he grabs my hair, yanking me upright.


    ¡°You thought you could lie to me about this? Huh?¡±


    There¡¯s an unreasonable, vicious look on his face that I¡¯ve never seen before. ¡°Carmine, please stop!¡±


    ¡°Keep your voice down.¡±


    He shoves the small of my back, his fingers sliding down to my shoulder to grab me in case I run away. I feel sick down to the very marrow of my bones. He opens the door and shoves me through so that I stumble. When I turn around, he¡¯s all over me, his hands clenched around my throat as he kicks the door shut.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been talking about our business, haven¡¯t you?¡±


    I stumble down on the staircase, which dig into my back. His fingers wrap around my neck and squeeze hard. I try not to fight back, to look guilty.


    I can¡¯t breathe. I can¡¯t-


    My nails dig into his arms, leaving long red streaks. He won¡¯t leave me with an opportunity to speak. I¡¯m going to die and Vince will never know. He¡¯ll hate himself for not being there. Carmine hardly seems to struggle as he strangles me. My lungs burn. Finally, I knee him hard in his stomach, and his heavy weight moves, pinning mepletely. ck spots. I p him, but it¡¯s so weak that my hand seems to stroke his face.


    Something ps my cheek and I open my eyes. Carmine¡¯s face is still in front of me. The stairs still dig into my back, but at least his hands aren¡¯t wrapped around my throat. My face is wet with my tears.


    ¡°Start fucking talking or it happens again.¡±


    I stare into his eyes and there¡¯s nothing but emptiness, and I wonder how I ever found this man sweet and charming.


    ¡°The feds picked me up, but I didn¡¯t say anything to them. I swear to God, Carmine. I¡¯d never talk to them.¡±


    His hand wraps around my throat and I dig my fingers underneath.


    ¡°No, please don¡¯t!¡±


    He ps me hard with his other hand and I stop, tears burning down my cheeks. The p stings my cheeks.


    ¡°What did they want?¡±


    ¡°They-they just want information,¡± I say quickly. ¡°They¡¯re fishing, that¡¯s all. They¡¯re worried about some cop who¡¯s missing.¡±


    Carmine¡¯s lips part and his fingers loosen around my neck. He gives me a very stern look before he continues in a hard voice. ¡°Adriana, what did they say exactly? Take your time and think about it.¡±


    My vein pulses against his fingers, reminding me that at any moment he could cut off the flow of my oxygen again. ¡°They-they said something about CIs. That one of them probably killed the cop. Either the Vittorios or the Rizzos.¡±


    His eyes widen ever so slightly, but he doesn¡¯t say anything else. They dart all over my face, as if deciding something.


    ¡°Carmine, I swear I haven¡¯t told anything to them. If you don¡¯t believe me, you can ask Vince. I¡¯ve been picked up by them before.¡±


    ¡°What the fuck?¡± His fingers pinch my throat. ¡°He knew about this and didn¡¯t tell Jack?¡±


    ¡°He was supposed to, but he didn¡¯t. He didn¡¯t want to see me get hurt, and he knew I was telling the truth.¡±


    He exhales through his nose, nodding. ¡°He took a big risk.¡±


    I suck in breath, which is still a bit hard with his hand around my neck. ¡°Please don¡¯t tell anyone. I¡¯m telling you the truth.¡±


    He lets go of my throat and sits back, looking unnerved. ¡°I can¡¯t believe Cesare would keep a secret like that from his boss.¡±


    I inhale sharply. ¡°He did me a huge favor.¡±


    ¡°All right, I¡¯ll keep your secret-¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Carmine,¡± I gasp.


    ¡°-But it¡¯ll depend on you. You have to show me that you¡¯re trustworthy.¡±


    Fucking hell. Like I don¡¯t have enough problems.


    ¡°¡®Course. Like I said, you could always ask Vince.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t need to ask that douchebag anything.¡±


    He stands up and towers over me. My wrists are raw from clenching the stairs. He offers a hand, but I clutch the rail and lift myself up.


    I can¡¯t stomach his touch right now.


    ¡°I need to get changed for tonight. There¡¯s a big game.¡± He grips my jaw suddenly. ¡°Don¡¯t mess it up.¡± Then he leans forward, his lips hot and biting against mine.


    Bile rises in my throat and I move my head away. His hands were just wrapped around my throat.


    ¡°The fuck is your problem?¡±


    Then he touches my hand. I jerk away violently, unable to disguise the disgust on my face.


    Don¡¯t touch me.


    Part of my disgust stems from my own inability to judge a man¡¯s character. I really thought that he liked me, that he was a nice person.


    He killed a woman before.


    ¡°You tried to kill me.¡±


    Carmine¡¯s face burns red and he curls his teeth, his lips trembling. It¡¯s scary. ¡°No, I didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°How could you do that to me?¡±


    Despite myself, I feel the sting of tears in the corner of my eyes. Ipletely misjudged him. I thought he was sweet, a little overprotective, and sensitive, but violent? Deranged? No way.


    ¡°You¡¯re overreacting, Adriana.¡±


    ¡°I passed out. You could have killed me.¡±


    ¡°What you did was serious.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t do anything!¡±


    His features stiffen with rage. ¡°I¡¯m going upstairs. When Ie down, I expect you to put this behind you.¡±


    Let him go! Search the apartment!


    Suddenly, the reason why I¡¯m here rushes into my head. The sooner I can find something credible for Tony, the sooner I can be rid of Carmine.


    I turn my back on him, heading downstairs. I wait until I hear his footsteps creaking upstairs and then I scamper throughout the house.


    Where should I start?


    I run past what looks like an office. My brain is firing off a thousand different synapses, my hands darting at everything. Bookshelf, desk, drawers, chair. I start at the desk, first. I open the drawer and rifle through the contents, trying to be quiet but thorough. There are sheaves of paper with bets and people¡¯s names and addresses. I slip my phone out of my pocket and take a picture. It¡¯s so frustrating, because I have no fucking idea what I¡¯m supposed to look for.


    Running my fingers along the edges, I try to feel for a false drawer. I quickly open the other drawers. Nothing but junk. Pages and pages of crap. mming it shut, I look at the next one on top.


    The floor above me creaks and the sound of leather patent shoes clipping on stairs startles me. There¡¯s more crap inside this one: pencils, erasers, pens, and a photograph of someone who looks vaguely familiar.


    Mom.


    I grasp the photo in my hands. It¡¯s a picture of my mother when she was much younger, with wavy dark brown hair. I can see my resemnce to her in it.


    Why does he have a picture of my mother in his desk?


    Something violent goes through my body, like a spear impaling my flesh. My hands tremble and my heart gallops ahead and I have no idea why, I just know that I am terrified.


    A footstep outside the door. I drop the photo inside and lean against the drawer, closing it as Carmine walks inside.


    ¡°What are you doing in here?¡±


    Shit.


    He¡¯s wearing a brand new suit. At least, it¡¯s one I¡¯ve never seen before. It¡¯s a dark charcoal grey and it fits him perfectly. ¡°You look really nice in that suit.¡± He looks down at himself briefly and I scan the desk, seizing a picture frame. ¡°I was looking at this photo.¡±


    Ignoring the turmoil inside, I swallow hard as he slides in behind me and looks over my shoulder. It¡¯s a picture of a small boy in the arms of a man with the same eyes and nose as Carmine.


    ¡°Your dad?¡±


    Carmine¡¯s face softens as he joins my side and looks down at the photo.


    ¡°Yeah.¡± His warm hand slides up my arm. ¡°I don¡¯t remember him much. Just little things like how his beard used to scratch my face when he kissed my cheek. He would buy me cannolis all the time.¡±


    ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°He left.¡± His jaw sets and a painful look zes over his eyes. ¡°And my ma never saw a dime from him all these years. Can you believe that?¡±


    I hate how I feel sorry for this asshole.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. My dad died when I was really young, so I know how it feels.¡±


    Suddenly he takes the picture frame from my grasp and sets it down carefully on the desk. ¡°I¡¯m sorry about your dad.¡±


    Why do you have a picture of my mom in your desk?


    The question sits on my tongue. I feel it burning my mouth.

 2-30

    CARMINE


    She fucking saw it.


    The second I saw her face, I knew. The question is-why the fuck was she looking through my desk?


    The hair raises on the back of my neck when I look at her sitting behind the poker table. She smiles sweetly at the guys clustered around her. The busted light above her head softens the brightness around her, making her look softer, too. And more human. They¡¯re on her like flies on honey and one of them actually takes her hand in his.


    Goddamn it.


    The floor manager is looking the other way, so I walk across the room and ce a hand on the guy¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°Excuse me, sir.¡±


    Adriana looks up from the game nervously, grimacing.


    He wheels around, and I recognize him instantly. He¡¯s a made guy, but he¡¯s drunk off his ass and his hand is still touching her. Aside my annoyance from his obvious disregard from the rules, I¡¯m pissed. Anger rises in my throat like acid.


    She¡¯s mine.


    ¡°You can¡¯t touch the dealer.¡±


    ¡°Carmine, fucking rx. I just dropped twelve grand in one of your games.¡±


    The wiseass grins at me like I¡¯m fucking asshole and he squeezes her hand.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but those are the rules. Let go of her.¡±


    Adriana gives me a look like I should drop it, but I ignore it.


    ¡°Geez, he¡¯s got a stick up his ass.¡± He gives her a grin, which she reluctantly returns.


    This fucking guy.


    Smiling painfully at the others, I lean in so that only this prick can here me. ¡°I¡¯ll break your fucking hand off if you don¡¯t let go of my woman.¡±


    Finally, the moron gets the message and lets go of her with an apologetic look. ¡°Sorry, Carmine. I didn¡¯t know.¡± I didn¡¯t know she was yours.


    That¡¯s beside the point, but whatever. A victory¡¯s a victory, even if I¡¯m not supposed to threaten guests. I just can¡¯t control myself when ites to her-and women in general.


    Adriana¡¯s grateful, flushed face betrays nothing. She doesn¡¯t know yet.


    I¡¯ve always regretted that day. I was young and stupid, and madly in love with an older woman. A married woman. We were just supposed to scare them. I used to collect payments. Every week, I visited their house, asionally catching a glimpse of the cute little girl. The girl I¡¯m looking at right now.


    I killed her father. I ripped open his neck in front of her and watched him bleed out. It was stupid. I thought we could be together if he was gone.


    Jesus fucking Christ, what¡¯s wrong with me?


    The boss at the time was livid when he found out what I did. I lied through my teeth about the whole thing, that it was an ident.


    It wasn¡¯t. I wanted her. And then her husband was dead, and she was free, but she wanted nothing to do with me after that. She just wanted a younger guy to fuck around with. She never actually considered leaving her husband. I was just a dumbass. Why would she want me after what I did to her kid?


    The boss made sure I stayed away from her. They threatened her against talking to the cops, and life went on. I fucked other women, fell in love and got my heart broken countless times, and now I have her daughter.


    It¡¯s so fucking wrong, but I don¡¯t care.


    I love her.


    And when we get more serious, I¡¯ll force Tony to end this ridiculous punishment. She¡¯ll move in with me and keep the house tidy, and have dinner ready when Ie home. At night, she¡¯ll warm my bed.


    My thoughts pull irresistibly back to the night before, when she cringed at my touch. I¡¯ll admit that I assumed the worst, but it hurt to see her flinch from me. Her brown eyes widened in the feeling I know only too well and the slightest bit of self-disgust settled in my stomach.


    Ma did much worse. Didn¡¯t she see the cigarette burns? Does she even realize how hard it is for me to work in a casino, surrounded by that putrid stench all the time? The acrid, burning smell throws me into the most bitter memories. Not just smoke, but the smell of burning human flesh.


    Everybody gets smacked around by their parents. Shut up, Carmine.


    Shoving it out of my mind, I focus on the present. I scan the floor, but every dealer seems to be doing fine. Customers continually filter in and out of the VIP room. Then I see something that ruins my day.


    A cop.


    I know he¡¯s a cop instantly from the inherent sense of entitlement. Every cop always gives out an air of smugness, and this one¡¯s no exception. He shes his badge to the guards. I¡¯m on him before anyone else can blink. He is in his thirties, with short-cropped hair and a waxen face.


    He¡¯ll be hard to win over.


    ¡°Officer, how may I help you?¡±


    ¡°My name is Officer Delgado. I¡¯m looking for Carmine Lhesi.¡±


    The guard gives me a grim look.


    Fuck¡¯s sake.


    ¡°I¡¯m Carmine. What¡¯s the problem?¡±


    ¡°I just have a few questions. Is there somewhere we can talk?¡±


    The smile on my face is painful. ¡°Sure.¡±


    A dozen eyes watch as I walk across the casino and open the door to the employees only section. My office is hidden in the back. It¡¯s a tiny, cramped thing I rarely go into. I hope to fucking God Tony hasn¡¯t bugged it. I¡¯ll have to checkter.


    The cop strides in and I close the door behind us, taking a seat behind my desk. He sits down across from me, refusing to smile back.


    What the fuck does this prick cop want?


    He gets right to it. ¡°Are you aware of Officer Cramar¡¯s disappearance?¡±


    Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit. I smile genially. ¡°Who?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s cut the crap, Carmine. I know for a fact you were one of his CIs because I was his partner.¡±


    Heat flushes my face and my eyes dart to the door. ¡°You have some fucking ballsing in here, talking about that shit. Are you out of your fucking mind? Anyone could hear this conversation.¡±


    He reaches into his jacket, unperturbed by my reaction, and takes out a small notepad. ¡°Where were you on the 13th?¡±


    It¡¯s the day I got rid of him. Even though sh of panic spikes through my nerves, I keep my body very still.


    Don¡¯t look away.


    ¡°I was in the casino. I have security tapes, if you¡¯d like to see them.¡±


    I¡¯m not a moron. I always prepare for this shit. I made sure to have security tape of myself dated on that Wednesday. There were no witnesses. This cop is just fishing for information.


    That¡¯s what I tell myself, at least.


    ¡°Sure.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s go, then.¡±


    The cop follows me outside, towards the security booth where the eye watches over everyone. I can¡¯t wait to get him the fuck out of here. Too many people have seen me talking to this fucking cop already.


    I knock on the door and George opens, blinking at the cop standing behind me. ¡°George, do me a favor and take a break.¡±


    ¡°Sure thing.¡±


    Giving me a wide-eyed look, he leaves the office. Sighing, I let Officer Delgado in and sit down at the desk. I know exactly where the tape is because I ced it there days ago, but I pretend to rummage around the drawers as he watches me like a hawk.


    Finally, I find it.


    ¡°Here it is!¡±


    I give it to the officer so that he can see the date of the tape himself, and then I pop it in the ck and white TV.


    ¡°Mind if Ie a little closer?¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡±


    He doesn¡¯t need to. I walk in and out of the camera¡¯s view, inly recognizable. The date and time at the bottom of the screen confirm my story, but the cop fast-forwards the tape as if to catch me in a lie. When the tape runs out, he leans back, looking extremely disappointed.


    ¡°Something wrong, officer?¡± I barely contain the sneer in my voice.


    He doesn¡¯t hear it. ¡°My partner is missing. We¡¯re investigating anyone who had contact with him in thest couple weeks.¡±


    ¡°Maybe he got tired of being a cop and decided to skip town.¡±


    That earns me a re. ¡°Listen to me, you piece of shit. I know one of you assholes is behind this. We traced hisst cell phone call to a pay phone near Coney Ind. The only people who use pay phones are criminal scumbags like you who need to use an outside line.¡±


    Watch your step, Officer Delgado. I killed one cop, and I can easily kill another one.


    ¡°I don¡¯t appreciate your usations and youing in here like this, talking about my business out in the open.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be in touch,¡± he says in a frosty tone. ¡°Don¡¯t leave town without calling me.¡±


    Whatever.


    I show him out of security and back into the casino. I just want to get him out as fast as possible,  to remove his ass from the premises. I¡¯m on his heels as he weaves between the tables, ncing here and there. In the entrance, a man whose bulk seems to be wider than the doorway fixes his mean, small eyes on me.


    Tony Rizzo.


    Holy fucking shit.


    The cop passes by him, giving him a snide look like it¡¯s only a matter of time before he has us all locked up. I approach Tony, nerves fluttering in my stomach when he gives me that squinted, mean smile.


    ¡°What the fuck was that about?¡± he says when the cop disappears behind the doors.


    ¡°Nothing, Tone. Prick was just breaking my balls about a fight that happened a week ago.¡±


    Tony¡¯s grin widens dangerously and my hands twitch at my sides.


    Something¡¯s wrong.


    He grabs the scruff of my neck, snarling in my face. ¡°What were you thinking you stupid fuck?¡±


    ¡°Tony, what the fuck?¡±


    In front of everyone, he drags me. I see Adriana¡¯s pale face watching anxiously as I¡¯m thrown into the men¡¯s bathroom. Thankfully, it empty. I turn around steadily as he locks the door behind him.


    ¡°The fuck is your problem?¡±


    Tony¡¯s red face shakes with fury. ¡°You¡¯re my fucking problem. I talked to the guys at the deli and I know you killed that cop.¡±


    My insides turn to ice.


    Not good.


    Not good at all.


    He grabs my neck and ms me into the wall hard enough to crack the ster. Stars burst in front of my vision and I want more than anything to beat the shit out of this asshole, but I know I¡¯ll get killed.


    ¡°They recognized the fucking guy on TV and told me about it. You must be out of your fucking mind! Thest thing I need right now are feds crawling up my ass.¡±


    Shit.


    ¡°Tony-I can exin-¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯d love to hear this.¡±


    ¡°During thatst job, there was a cop inside his apartment. I had to do them both! When I found out he was a cop, I took care of everything. Even his car.¡±


    Tony¡¯s face is an inch away from mine as he bellows at me, little flecks of spitnding on my face. His crooked teeth are bared as he growls. ¡°Why the hell didn¡¯t you tell me?¡±


    Cause you¡¯re a dumb, fat fuck who wouldn¡¯t be able to calm down.


    ¡°I knew how you¡¯d react.¡±


    I keep my face in a neutral line, even though I¡¯mughing at him inside.


    He jabs his finger in my face. ¡°We do not touch cops, do you hear me? A hit like that brings the family heat we don¡¯t need right now. I¡¯m this close to settling our problems with the Vittorios. If you fuck it up for me, I¡¯ll kill you.¡±


    ¡°Why settle things? Why not just get rid of them?¡±


    Killing Vincent Cesare would be the highlight of my career.


    ¡°Because, you dumb prick, Jack has Johnny on his side now.¡±


    Right. The Cravotta family boss in Montreal. They¡¯re a big family, and a war against the Vittorios and the Cravottas would be a bit too much to handle.


    ¡°What did you do with the body?¡±


    ¡°Rx. I buried his head and hands in a farm on Long Ind. They¡¯ll never fucking find it.¡±


    At the sound of my confident voice, Tony¡¯s hackles settle down and he backs away finally letting go of my suit.


    ¡°You better hope they don¡¯t.¡±


    Then he storms out of the bathroom, the door swinging in his wake.


    I¡¯m not convinced that Tony will let things slide, but it¡¯s time to pay a visit to Johnny and Brian.


    Then I¡¯ll think of what to do.


    * * *


    My rage builds around me like an electrical cloud as I get in my car. I had ns today, but now they¡¯re all fucked. I told Adriana she had to take the metro today. I think on some level she felt relieved-that look she gave me when I squeezed her neck said it all, really. She looked at me like I was some kind of monster.


    It wasn¡¯t such a big deal. Why do women have to get into hysterics about everything? Sometimes people do violent things out of love. My Ma beating my hands with a wooden spoon when I stole snacks from the cupboard-that was done out of love. She was trying to teach me to be a good boy, but I never listened. I know I¡¯m rotten to the core, just like she always said. Look at what I do for a living.


    But you only stole the snacks because you were starving.


    A soft, low voice in my head speaks in my head. Tears spring in my eyes suddenly. I shake my head violently, nearly crashing into traffic as I m the brakes.


    No. Ma loved me, she just didn¡¯t know how to show it without hurting me.


    The other voice in my head simmers with quiet disagreement. I don¡¯t like thinking like this. It just upsets me.


    Adriana¡¯s frightened face haunts me as I drive to Jersey. The stormy, grey clouds above my head reflect my mood as I park and step out of my car. Brian and John should already be inside. Carefully, I approach the back door of the deli and watch them shoot pool and eat sandwiches inside the employee area. There are no captains there. Great.


    They¡¯reughing when I enter the room. Brian leans over the pool table, shutting up immediately when he sees me enter.N?vel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.


    ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡±


    John, a young guy with spiky ck hair, stands against the wall with a pool cue. He is still smiling. ¡°Nothing, we were just breaking balls.¡±


    ¡°Come on, I want to hear the joke.¡±


    Cocksuckers.


    He gives Brian an uneasy look. ¡°Carmine, rx. We¡¯re just letting off some steam.¡±


    The other men back away nervously as I approach John, whose hand clenches over the pool cue. I can practically taste his sweat. The fucking bastard.


    ¡°What did you say?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Carmine.¡±


    I corner him against the wall, looking into his wide eyes. It¡¯s my own fault for having a reputation for being a nice guy.


    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re sorry? That¡¯s nice.¡±


    I smash my fist into the side of his fucking head. The room explodes with gleeful yells as I pounce on him, pinning him on the floor as I channel every drop of my rage into my fists.


    ¡°Carmine, what the fuck?¡± he screams.


    Grabbing a beer bottle from the pool table, I smash it over his head and it explodes in a thousand pieces. ss shards are lodged in his face, blood streaming down in little rivers. Then I wrap my fingers around his throat and squeeze.


    ¡°You told Tony about the guy I brought here, you fucking worthless piece of shit. What, did you think I wouldn¡¯t find out?¡±


    His eyes bulge as I squeeze harder and then strong arms wrap around me, yanking me back. The jerk-off gulps down air and my shoes slip from the ss. Brian looks at me with a deer in headlights look, confirming his guilt. A ball of fury builds up in my chest and I lunge towards him.


    ¡°Carmine, calm down!¡±


    ¡°Get the fuck off me!¡±


    Brian holds up a hand as if to cate a wild animal. John cries on the floor, clutching his face in pain. ¡°I had to tell Tony the truth. He¡¯s the boss. What did you expect?¡±


    I rip my arms out of their grasp and aim the broken beer bottle at his face. ¡°The next time you go crying to Tony Rizzo, I¡¯ll do you worse than Johnny over there.¡±


    I throw the beer bottle as hard as I can, aiming for his face, but Brian ducks out of the way and it explodes.


    ¡°Oh! What the fuck, Carmine?¡±


    I don¡¯t give a fuck.


    One of them stoops down to help Johnny, who is still crying like a little bitch. They all look at me like I¡¯m crazy. The floor is covered in shattered ss and flecks of blood. My chest heaves, my fingers itching to wrap around Brian¡¯s throat.


    ¡°Fuck all of you.¡±


    My gravelly voice trembles in my chest. Shaking, I turn my back on them and walk out.

 2-31

    ¡°Mr. Lhesi?¡±


    I turn my head to the Italian receptionist, who gives me an uneasy smile.


    Must still look pissed off.


    Immediately, I brighten at her and set the flowers on the counter.


    ¡°Are those for your mom? They¡¯re beautiful!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, they are. Thanks.¡±


    ¡°Um-your mother is in her room. Go ahead!¡±


    For a moment, I¡¯m tempted to just leave the flowers and go. Do I really have the patience to deal with her today? The receptionist¡¯s encouraging smile makes me take the flowers off the counter and walk down the hall.


    A huge, deep green golf course stretches beyond the ss outside. Every surface inside gleams, from the hardwood floor to the picture frames. Not a speck of dust. A man ys ragtime on a grand piano in themon room and he smiles at me as I pass. Everyone looks happy to be here. They better be at five grand a month.


    I take a shuddering breath as I stop in front of Ma¡¯s bedroom and knock on the door.


    A perpetually angry voice shouts. ¡°Who is it?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s me, Ma.¡±


    ¡°Carmine! Come in.¡±


    I twist open the door, my nose twitching as I inhale a stale smell. It¡¯s a big room with nicer furniture than I have at my house. There¡¯s a sofa and a big, stuffed armchair, a 20-inch lcd screen, and a giant window with white curtains, kept firmly shut.


    It¡¯s dark inside. Everywhere.


    I set the vase of flowers next to her head carefully. The yellow flowers seem to wilt in her presence, or maybe that¡¯s my imagination.


    Ma is buried under herforter; her grey hair long and unkempt. Red-rimmed eyes seek me out-as if ming me for something.


    ¡°What did you get those for?¡±


    I inhale air. ¡°I thought they would brighten your room a little.¡±


    She waves them off dismissively. ¡°I don¡¯t need those. What¡¯s the point in giving me something if it¡¯s just going to die?¡±


    Just fucking say, ¡®thank you.¡¯


    ¡°Nothingsts, Ma. That¡¯s why it¡¯s important to enjoy things in life.¡±


    Her eyes narrow at me. ¡°There¡¯s nothing in life to enjoy. I¡¯m so sick I can¡¯t even get up out of bed.¡±


    I roll my eyes. ¡°You¡¯re not sick, Ma. It¡¯s all in your head.¡±


    Her eyes bulge out of her sockets. ¡°How dare you!¡±


    My heart jumps in my chest when she screams at me. ¡°The doctors said so.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you think you know everything, don¡¯t you?¡± she snarls. ¡°You can¡¯t even get a wife. That¡¯s what I have to live with, with the shame that my son is a fag.¡±


    My chest tightens and heat fills my face.


    Step back from the bed. Don¡¯t hit her.


    ¡°I am not a fag.¡±


    ¡°Yes you are,¡± she grins nastily. ¡°With the way you dress and how you always cry and beg me-¡±


    I almost lunge at her, but I grab the ss vase of flowers instead. A brief vision of me grabbing them and smashing the ss into her skull fills my eyes.


    ¡°I have a girlfriend.¡±


    Suddenly, her attitude does a 180-degree turn and a smile widens her face. ¡°Is she Italian?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    ¡°Well, are you going to marry her?¡±


    I already know that I want to. ¡°Someday.¡± Thinking of Adriana dispels some of the tension and my hand rxes on the vase.


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you bring her here, then?¡±


    ¡°We just started dating, Ma.¡±


    Suddenly she screws up her face. ¡°I know why-you¡¯re ashamed of me. Oh Lord, what did I do to deserve a son who is ashamed of his mother? Do youin about me to her? I bet you do.¡±


    I¡¯ve told her a few things. My insides twist with guilt.


    ¡°Why do you always have to be this way?¡±


    ¡°Oh, poor you.¡± she snaps ¡°I¡¯m the one stuck in this nursing home. Left here alone to die.¡±


    Fucking hell.


    She dabs at her face with a corner of her bed sheet.


    ¡°Jesus Christ, you¡¯re not alone. You¡¯re surrounded by people.¡±


    Ma grabs her tissue box from the nightstand, burying her face in cotton as she sobs. ¡°I gave my life to my child and he repays me taking the Lord¡¯s name in vain.¡± She gives me a venomous look. ¡°You¡¯ve always been such a little bastard-such a spiteful, hateful child.¡±


    Darkness fills my vision. ¡°Who was the one who burned cigarettes on my chest? Who starved me, beat me, made me kneel until my legs bled?¡±


    ¡°I never did any such thing!¡± she moans. ¡°Why would you make up such horrible lies about your mother?¡±


    I grit my teeth, my body burning with hate for her. She used to say it all the time, until I doubted my own memories. I wondered if I really was crazy-that I imagined it all.


    I didn¡¯t imagine the scars all over my body.


    ¡°They¡¯re not lies, even if you refuse to admit them.¡±


    ¡°I bet your girl that you¡¯re dating is a lie, too. Why would anyone want to be with you?¡±


    It¡¯s like I¡¯m floating above myself.


    I see myself lunge across the bed, grabbing a pillow and burying it in her face. Her muffled screams don¡¯t even reach my ears.


    I¡¯ve snapped.


    Maybe it¡¯s because it¡¯s a question I ask myself all the time, and to hear it from my own mother is too much to bear.


    Her nails dig into my arms, scratching, but she¡¯s too frail to fight me off. She has to die. Even if I stop now, she won¡¯t hesitate to call the police and put me in jail. I know that.


    Bitch. Fucking bitch. Cunt. She was always a nasty woman. She was so terrible that she drove my dad away. He wanted nothing to do with us because of her.


    She ruined my life.


    Made me who I am.


    And I am the monster she says I am. When I kill, I¡¯m numb. There¡¯s not a damn thing to stop me from doing it because I like it. I feel powerful.


    Gradually, her moans fade and her limbs stop kicking. It takes over ten minutes for her to die. I lift the pillow, almost hesitantly.


    Her mouth is open like a gaping fish, her eyes staring.


    Jesus, what have I done? I killed my mother. I killed my mother.


    The pillow drops to my feet and my back hits the wall as I inhale deep, panicked gasps. They saw mee in here. What the fuck am I going to do?


    I killed my mother.


    She wasn¡¯t all bad, wasn¡¯t she? Didn¡¯t she take care of me when I was sick, hold me when I cried, didn¡¯t she apologize for every burn on my body, every mark she ever made?


    Oh, God.


    I sink to my feet and take one of her hands, which is still warm. My throat is thick with tears when I bring it to my lips. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Ma. I didn¡¯t mean it. I didn¡¯t mean it!¡±


    Her ssy eyes stare upward, unmoved.


    She used to say the same thing.Belongs ? to N?velDrama.Org.


    It¡¯s nearly a half hour before I get enough sense to leave through the open window. I can¡¯t call for help. They¡¯ll know she was smothered. They¡¯ll know it was me. I¡¯ll have a few days, at least, before the autopsy finds fibers around her mouth and inside her lungs, her bloodshot eyes, the high levels of carbon dioxide in her blood.


    I get the fuck out of there, slipping through the window and running over the golf course back to the parking lot. I just can¡¯t believe that after everything I¡¯ve done, my mother was my downfall. If only I coulde back at night and set fire to her room-but no, it¡¯s too much. I have to leave town.


    My whole life is here. Everything I¡¯ve worked for. I can¡¯t just leave here.


    My hand trembles on the shift of my car.


    Maybe I¡¯m overreacting. I wiped that room of all my prints. Without anything linking me to the murder, there¡¯s no way they¡¯d be able to convict.


    No, fuckhead. They have footage of you going inside the room.


    When Tony finds out about this, he¡¯ll go apeshit. I need to leave town.


    But I¡¯m not leaving without her.

 2-32

    VINCENT


    I walk along the windows of my apartment as if I¡¯ll be able to spot her from here, looking down at New York¡¯s metropolitan jungle.


    Why the fuck hasn¡¯t she called me yet?


    ¡°Fuck!¡±


    My voice echoes throughout the lonely apartment and I try not to think of what her silence might mean. Adriana isn¡¯t stupid; she knows that we¡¯re both in dangerous positions. I made it very clear how important it was for her to call me regrly so that I knew she was safe. It¡¯s almost been two days, and I still haven¡¯t heard back.


    He must¡¯ve gotten to her.


    I already drove to Maria¡¯s parents¡¯ house and looped around. There was no sign of her inside or out. She wasn¡¯t at her dorm, which wasn¡¯t easy to check because I¡¯m not even supposed to be seen near her.


    My neck snaps around as the front door rattles with keys. I sweep into the foyer; heart beating a little faster than usual as I grab the piece strapped to my leg and aim it at the door. Adriana¡¯s head pokes through and she screams when she sees the gun aimed at her head. Fuck. I put it away immediately.


    ¡°Damn it, Adriana. You better have a good fucking exnation.¡±


    She slides in, wearing a low-cut dress that shows off her cleavage. For a moment, I forget my anger and I just want to tear her clothes from her body.


    Adriana¡¯s whitened face seems to shine in the hallway. She kicks off her heels and suddenly tackles me with a hug.


    I grunt as her body collides with my chest and wrap my arms around her shaking shoulders. Fuck. What now?


    ¡°He-he choked me. Vince, I thought I was going to die.¡±


    White-hot rage consumes my head as a pounding beat in my head keeps me from thinking of anything but how exactly I¡¯m going to kill Carmine.


    I hold her against me until I hear her squeak with pain, and then I cken my grip. ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°On Sunday, the feds picked me up right outside Maria¡¯s parents¡¯ home and when they dropped me back there, Carmine saw. He was waiting for me.¡±


    No.


    A zing sensation travels up my spine. If Tony found out-


    ¡°He took me to his house and-¡± she copses into sobs. ¡°It was horrible.¡±


    I¡¯m desperately holding in my rage for her sake. Don¡¯t scream. Don¡¯t yell. Just act like everything¡¯s fine.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take care of him, Ade. Don¡¯t you worry. He¡¯s seen hisst fucking sunset.¡±


    She sighs into my chest and looks up at me, neither relieved nor unhappy with my decision.


    ¡°Vince, there¡¯s something else. I found something in his apartment-a photo of my mom. Why would he have that?¡±


    I shake my head. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Who cares? ¡°We have bigger things to worry about, like the fact that Carmine saw you getting picked up by the FBI. We can¡¯t let him tell Tony.¡±


    Both of those pricks need to die.


    Her nervous face looks up at me. ¡°They wanted to know who killed that missing cop. Do you think he might have done it?¡±


    Missing cop. Oh, Jesus. The one that was in the news recently?


    ¡°Fuck, I don¡¯t know. I guess it¡¯s possible. He¡¯spletely out of his mind.¡±


    ¡°So what do we do?¡±


    I have to admire her bravado. My arm curls around her waist as I bend over and kiss her head.


    ¡°You¡¯ll stay here and you won¡¯t do a goddamn thing. I¡¯m serious, Adriana. No phone calls, giving or receiving, unless they¡¯re from me.¡±


    She nods, looking tired. My fingers brush against the faint bruises on her neck and pressure builds up behind my eyes.


    ¡°I can¡¯t wait until all this is over. Will it ever be?¡±


    ¡°It will. I promise.¡± I take her delicate chin in my hand and give her a soft, quick kiss.


    I can¡¯t believe he got her-again. Right under my fucking nose. I can¡¯t stand this anymore. I feel vited. He took her throat and nearly strangled her to death. When I get ahold of him, I¡¯ll make him beg for me to kill him.


    Adriana rubs her neck, making a pained face. I want to break down. I want to sumb to madness and kill every asshole that touched her in thest few weeks: Carmine, Tony, Jack, and anyone else who threatened and stalked her.


    This whole thing is just out of control. Everybody has lost their ce. Even me.Content provided by N?velDrama.Org.


    I just feel powerless.


    But not anymore. I¡¯m going to take things into my own hands. No more tiptoeing around bosses and fucking rules. No more ying nice. No more pretending I give a fuck about this stupid deal.


    There are bruises on her neck from a man who she was forced to date. A man she would¡¯ve never met if she was never in my life.


    Would she be better off not knowing me?


    The sudden thought stuns me. I shove it away, refusing to think about it anymore.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    I take her face in my hands, searching her eyes for a clue for something that¡¯ll make her crash, make her rpse.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be okay if I¡¯m with you, I just want him out of my life.¡± Adriana lowers her head. ¡°I wish I could¡¯ve found out something. Makes everything I did seem pointless.¡±


    It¡¯s too painful for me to stay here, and my self-restraint is cracking. ¡°I need to go.¡±


    Her eyes well with tears and she clutches my sides, her nails digging in. I hate to see the tears in her eyes.


    ¡°Don¡¯t cry, baby.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t fucking help it!¡± She bursts out, wiping her hands over her eyes.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine, baby. I¡¯m always fine.¡± A smile twitches on my face. ¡°You¡¯re the one I have to worry about. You¡¯re constantly getting into trouble.¡±


    I worry about her all the time.


    ¡°Maybe I should handcuff you to my bed,¡± I say with a weak smile, trying to cheer her up, ¡°so that when Ie back, you¡¯ll be right where I want you to be.¡±


    Her look of amusement turns to rm when I take both her wrists and hold them behind her back. ¡°Vince, no!¡±


    For a moment, I seriously consider doing it, but there¡¯s no time for games.


    ¡°I love you.¡±


    Her arms tighten around my middle and I sigh into her hair. I just want to stay here and curl up with her on the couch, and forget about all this bullshit.


    ¡°I love you, baby. Always.¡±


    I kiss the top of her head and her arms unwind from me. I give her a stern look.


    ¡°Do not fucking leave this ce under any circumstances.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t.¡±


    For once, I don¡¯t see any desire in her eyes to disobey me.


    ¡°If I find out you¡¯ve ced so much as a toe outside this apartment, I¡¯ll whip your ass until it bleeds. So don¡¯t do it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not an idiot, Vince. I don¡¯t want to die.¡±


    The corners of my mouth lift as I turn around, heading for the door. All lightness drops away from my eyes as I think about what I¡¯m going to do and the bastards who will pay. They will fucking pay.


    * * *


    Where is that son of a bitch?


    I¡¯ve checked the casino, I peeked inside his house, and I¡¯ve been to the deli in Jersey.


    It¡¯s like he¡¯s gone.


    My car parks into the Crazy Horse strip club parking lot. The rest of my crew is here, and maybe they have information. I enter through the back, knocking furiously. Patsy, a balding man with sses, opens the door for me.


    ¡°Vinny!¡±


    ¡°Hey, Pats.¡±


    I walk into the room and see Nicky, Tom, Paulie, and every other captain already inside, and Jack.


    Fucking Jack. My mood sours immediately.


    Jack sits at a round table, counting money with Paulie. I make a beeline for Nicky.


    ¡°Hey, look who¡¯s here!¡±


    I cut to the chase. ¡°I need to find Carmine Lhesi. Do you know where he is? He didn¡¯t show up to work today.¡±


    Nicky gives me a bewildered look. ¡°How the fuck should I know where he is?¡± He reaches in his jacket and gives me an envelope stuffed with cash.


    I take it and shove it in mine, not even bothering to count it. Collecting what¡¯s owed me is thest thing on my mind right now.


    But I can¡¯t just go shouting about finding Carmine. If I¡¯m going to whack him, it¡¯ll have to be secret. Silent.


    I also need to kill that fat fuck, Tony. I¡¯ll wrap my hands around him until his eyes bug out. Piece of shit. I should¡¯ve shot him in the face at that sit-down with John and Jack.


    One crisis at a time.


    ¡°You all right, Vinny? You look pissed.¡±


    ¡°I need to find Carmine.¡±


    Suddenly, Jack appears at my elbow and tugs my arm. I have to resist the urge to shove him away.


    ¡°Vince, we need to talk.¡±


    I¡¯m about to tell him off, but his blue eyes harden and I remember the time he buried his gun in a made guy¡¯s stomach and shot him for pping his niece around. I helped him get rid of the body, and we passed around the story that he went into the Witness Protection Program. Under that calm gaze, unpredictable fury boils. He¡¯s the boss. I have to respect him.


    ¡°Fine.¡±


    I follow him into the back, that memory burning in my mind as he takes me into his office.


    ¡°Have you heard?¡± he asks me.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Carmine¡¯s mother is dead. The nursing home called Tony. They think he strangled her while he was visiting.¡±


    A ripple of shock runs through my body. ¡°Holy shit.¡± I can¡¯t even imagine doing that to my own mother. ¡°What a sick fuck.¡±


    ¡°Tony donates a lot of money to that ce, so they¡¯re trying to get the coroner¡¯s office to write natural causes on the death certificate. Anyway, Tony is pissed. This could be it.¡±


    Somehow, this gives me a bad feeling. Carmine must be feeling desperate.


    ¡°I need to find him.¡±


    ¡°No. You poking around will only make things worse. Let Tony deal with him.¡±


    I grit my teeth. ¡°We should deal with both of them.¡±


    ¡°Are you fucking nuts? He¡¯s a boss, Vince.¡±


    ¡°A boss who tried to have us all killed, remember? I don¡¯t trust the fat fuck. After everything he¡¯s done, he deserves it.¡±


    Jack grabs my shoulders. ¡°For Christ¡¯s sake, listen to yourself! You¡¯re talking about whacking a boss, Vince-¡±


    ¡°Who tried to kill us all a few weeks ago! Jesus, what happened to your balls?¡±


    Jack¡¯s fist whirls out of nowhere, smashing into the side of my face. I grunt as the force of his blow sends me reeling, and then he grabs my neck and ms me against the wall.


    ¡°You got something you want to say to me?¡±


    Yeah. You¡¯re a dickless asshole who¡¯s going to run this whole family into the ground.


    My head radiates with heat. ¡°Oh, there¡¯s a lot of shit I want to say to you.¡±


    ¡°Go ahead, asshole.¡±


    I swallow hard, looking into the blue eyes I used to trust. ¡°I¡¯m doing this, Jack. Adriana was almost killed again by that fuck, and I¡¯m going to put an end to him now. With or without your approval.¡±


    He lets go of me and steps back, running a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. ¡°How is she?¡±


    ¡°Okay, considering the circumstances. She¡¯s at my house.¡±


    ¡°Look, there¡¯s something you should know.¡± Jack gives me a wary nce as he sits down, looking nervous. ¡°I found out stuff about Carmine that-I found out from Tony that he used to be obsessed with a woman who lived in Brooklyn years and years back. He was supposed to collect payments from the family and that¡¯s it, but he killed the husband. She lived in Bushwick.¡±


    A beam of understanding shoots through his eyes into mine.


    ¡°It couldn¡¯t be Adriana¡¯s dad, could it?¡± A rush to my brain makes my vision dark for a few seconds. ¡°Oh, Maddon.¡±


    ¡°I just found this out. That sick fuck had it bad for her mother. There¡¯s no way he didn¡¯t know about her from the beginning.¡±


    My body feels strangely hollow, as if someone reached in and yanked out all my guts.


    Tony must have known, too, and he still sent her after Carmine.


    ¡°I need to go-I need to see her.¡±


    He shouts something, but I¡¯m already out the door. I sprint towards my car without knowing why. I drive home so fast that I almost kill myself. Then I sprint up the staircase without missing a beat because there¡¯s fire flowing in my veins.


    I jig the doorknob to my ce, and it swings wide open.


    Oh, no. No, please.


    Shit.


    I grab my gun and enter the apartment, my ears straining for any sound. My arms swing from room to room, thoroughly searching without any sign of her.


    ¡°Adriana! ADRIANA!¡±


    My throat bes hoarse from my bellowing. A violent, nauseating feeling ovees my body when I see water from the bathtub spilled all over the tiles like blood, the only sign of a struggle in the house. I look at the puddles of water and I almost want to cry. I see red pools instead of clear ones, and I see what Adriana might look like after he¡¯s through with her.


    I search every fucking room, but she¡¯s not here.

 2-33

    ADRIANA


    When Vince leaves, I lock the door behind him and wrap my arms around myself. I saunter into the living room and copse onto the couch. My eyes close as I sink into the couch and try to rx, but Carmine¡¯s fingers itch at my throat and my eyes fly open, heart pounding. As much as I know that Vince is more than capable of getting rid of Carmine, I still feel a stab of anxiety when I think about them fighting. Carmine is capable, too, and strong, ruthless, with an edge of madness.


    I shake my head and get up, wandering around the house.


    What should I do while Vince is gone?


    Like anything can take my mind off him.


    My eyes wander from the TV to the bathroom attached to the bedroom.


    Maybe a nice hot soak in the bathtub.


    My shoulders loosen up just thinking about being surrounded by fragrant, warm bubbles. I pad into the huge bathroom barefooted and smile when I notice that Vince kept all my bath products. He was just waiting for me to return. I lean over the edge and turn the knobs on the tap. A strong, white stream of water fills the bathtub. I take the purple bottle filled withvender bubble bath and I pour it near the jet. Within seconds, the bath fills with white foams and the floral smell rises from the water. I strip the clothes from my body painfully, like peeling bandages from a wound, and then I turn the taps off, shutting the roar of the water, and gingerly slip inside.


    I hiss softly as the heat burns my skin and I sink into the water gradually. My hair fans out over the edge of the wfoot tub and I stretch my feet so that the tips of my toes peek out of the foamy water.


    Man, I needed this.


    The heat from the bath soothes my muscles, warming my neck where there¡¯s still a bit of soreness. My wet arms sting with the cold air when I raise my elbows out of the water. I slip them back inside the hot water, shuddering as the warmth envelopes my skin


    Clip, clip, clip, clip.


    A soft sound behind me turns the hot water into ice. My heart pounds against my chest, unable to deny the crawling, sick feeling that I just managed to bury.


    That¡¯s not Vince.


    Then a low male voice makes a hissing sound. I whirl around, the water sloshing over the tub as my eyes move up the grey tiles to a pair of loafers and cks that almost seem to blend in the color scheme of the bathroom, and finally to a handsome face with a bleeding stare.


    I scream and cross my arms over my chest as Carmine walks into the bathroom, wearing a sadistic grin.


    ¡°Oh, no. Don¡¯t cover yourself on my ount, please. I¡¯m enjoying the view.¡±


    What should I do?


    I shiver in the warm water. ¡°What are you doing here?¡±


    The grin fades from his face. ¡°I could ask you the same fucking question.¡±


    My lips tremble as I fail toe up with a good lie. I nce towards the door but I know I¡¯ll never make it. I¡¯m naked, wet, and confined in this bathroom. He¡¯ll shoot me. He¡¯ll shoot me right in this bathtub. I imagine him raising an arm, foam flying into the air as he fires into my chest.


    ¡°Well, well, well. I came here to kill Cesare and instead I find you here, naked for me. What a pleasant surprise.¡±


    ¡°Carmine-¡±


    His blue eyes sh dangerously. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare. You¡¯re a worthless whore, just like your mother.¡±


    I swallow my questions about my mother. He looks furious enough to hit me. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Carmine. I¡¯m weak.¡±


    ¡°Yes you are,¡± he says, eyes zing. ¡°Luckily for you, I¡¯m in love.¡±


    What?


    Oh, God. My body trembles as if he just uttered a threat. He doesn¡¯t love me; he just thinks he does. Wrapping hands around a woman¡¯s throat-that isn¡¯t love. It¡¯s abuse. It¡¯s in to me, seeing him standing there, that he can¡¯t tell the difference.


    He¡¯s close enough so that all other thoughts vanish and I can only think of my own blinding fear, the sickening dread as he kneels to my level and runs his fingers over the edge of the bathtub.


    He rolls his sleeve before he sticks his arm inside the foam and tugs on the chain. The drain sucks the water noisily as Carmine¡¯s wet hand trails up my back and shoulders. Then he stands, watching the water spiral into the drain as I hug my knees, covering myself.


    ¡°Carmine, this is-¡±


    ¡°Get up.¡±


    Fuck no. I don¡¯t want to get up. I don¡¯t want to go anywhere near him.


    He kicks the side of the tub impatiently. ¡°Get the fuck up or I¡¯ll give you another set of bruises.¡±This text is ? N?velDrama/.Org.


    The voice leaving his throat sounds nothing like him. ¡°What happened to you? What happened to the sweet man I met in the casino?¡±


    The question seems to throw him. Carmine blinks and his contemptuous expression softens somewhat, but he recovers quickly. ¡°He found out that his girlfriend was cheating on him. If I have to ask again, I¡¯ll-¡±


    I stand up quickly, legs shivering in the cold. His eyes follow my curves greedily for a moment before he rips a nket from the hanger and holds it out in front of me. I extend an arm to grab it, but he snatches it back. Anger rustles in my chest as I step out of the tub, arms still wrapped around my breasts and groin. The white towel wraps around my back as he pats me down, wiping the water from my limbs. His eyes are bloodshot, but his movements resonate with deadly precision and barely restrained calm. He looks like he hasn¡¯t slept in several days.


    The towel drops to the floor.


    No, please.


    The backs of my legs hit the tub as he closes the distance between us. The coarseness of his suit rubs against my skin unpleasantly as his breath billows over my neck. His heavy eyes lick me from head to toe as he wraps an arm around my bare waist. My skin is still damp enough to make wet spots on his suit. I think of sex and suddenly a freakish hollowness opens up inside me.


    I beg his eyes. ¡°Please let me go.¡±


    He ignores that. ¡°Put your arms down. I want to see you. All of you.¡±


    No, I don¡¯t want to.


    A sick feeling starts to worm its way into my stomach. I know where this is going but I desperately don¡¯t want to think about it, because to say it out loud would make it final. Complete.


    My voice trembles, higher in pitch than usual. ¡°Please don¡¯t make me.¡±


    But Carmine regards me with cruel indifference. His hand runs along my corbone, his palm just bushing over the top of my breasts. ¡°I haven¡¯t made you do anything yet, but I should have. I should have fucked you that first night you came over to my house.¡±


    His hands encircle my arms and pull them away from my breasts, and I feel horribly exposed. He sighs as he slowly takes them in his hands, gently kneading the flesh.


    ¡°You have amazing tits. No wonder that asshole had such a hard time leaving you alone.¡± He pinches one of my nipples hard, watching my face with a leer for my reaction.


    His hands feel cold and invading. When he pinches me, I feel pain and I flinch from his touch.


    Please God, let Vincent stop this. Please!


    I stand like a statue, too frightened to speak, and then he takes me in his arms and his mouth descends over mine. His tongue shoves inside my mouth, and it feels slimy and not at all erotic. I blindly step forward as he drags me, my mouth and lips unmoving. My head ms against the grey wall as Carmine shoves me forward and I cry out in pain.


    Then his hand gropes my breast hard while the other reaches down my waist. He moans into my mouth as he explores my body and I try to go away inside. To not feel anything. I focus on the feeling of the cold walls digging into my spine. He shifts his body and his erection digs into my abdomen and I¡¯m seconds from losing it.


    I move my head to the side, away from his mouth. ¡°Carmine, get off me!¡±


    His hand is like a vice over my jaw as he forcefully turns my head back. ¡°Shut the fuck up.¡±


    His lips move to my neck and he bites down hard. His teeth break through my skin and I scream in pain.


    ¡°Did you think you could hold out your pussy for all those weeks? I tried to be nice. To be a gentleman, and then you fuck Cesare behind my back?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t-¡±


    His hand wraps around my throat as he screams in my face. ¡°Shut up!¡±


    His other hand, still palming my breast, digs in painfully and twists. Then he reaches lower and lower, until he¡¯s between my legs. His middle finger grazes my clit and he painfully forces it through.


    ¡°No!¡±


    Carmine pulls away, looking incredibly wounded for a moment, and then his hand makes a sharp movement. He ps my face so hard even my eye burns with pain, and then I¡¯m shoved to the floor.


    ¡°You want to behave like a whore, then I¡¯ll treat you like one.¡±


    The sickening sound of his belt unwinding from his cks fills me with gut-wrenching pain.


    ¡°NO, CARMINE!¡±


    My screams echo on the tiles as I seem to watch from above as his cks drop down, just enough to free him from the confines of his pants. I turn around and crawl towards the door, tears blinding my vision, but he grabs my waist and ms his hand on my back. The sharp blow resonates inside deeply, injuring my kidneys. I thrash around until I¡¯m on my back and Carmine kneels above me, furious, and his cock in his hand.


    ¡°Please don¡¯t hurt me!¡±


    Something breaks inside him. The cruel look on his face shatters and confusion lightens his face. He looks around the bathroom as if he just woke up in an unfamiliar ce, and then he shoves himself in his pants. Relief floods my veins and I sob even harder when he zips his pants.


    Oh, God. It came so close. I was going to be-I can¡¯t even think about the word.


    ¡°Fuck.¡± His face burns red as I rip myself away from him and curl into a ball, hugging myself. ¡°Jesus, I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    Carmine takes the towel from the floor and approaches me cautiously, wrapping it around my back as I clutch it firmly over my chest. His knees hit the tiles with a loud thud and all of a sudden he pulls me into his chest.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m so fucking sorry.¡±


    Suddenly his touch is no longer cruel, it¡¯s warm. Protective.


    Get the fuck away from me, you psycho.


    His hand pins my head to his chest while the other soothes my back.


    ¡°Adriana,¡± he says in a choking voice, ¡°I never wanted to hurt you. I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m sorry for everything that I¡¯ve done.¡±


    My chest still shakes with sobs, but I let him hold me. Anything to keep him from raping me.


    ¡°Vince!¡± I scream. ¡°Vince, help me!¡±


    He¡¯s nowhere around, but I couldn¡¯t hold it in any longer.


    Carmine¡¯s arm snakes around my neck and holds me ufortably. The vein in my neck throbs ufortably against his arm. Then he closes his arm around my in a V and the other side of my neck feels tight.


    ¡°Carmine, I can¡¯t-¡±


    ¡°Shhh.¡±


    My head swims as the blood from my neck is choked. I dig my nails into his thick arm as hard as I can, but every struggle seems to drag me underneath. ckness.

 2-34

    I wake up on a soft surface and a hand pping me awake. A man¡¯s face swims in front of me-Carmine. My heart squeezes painfully as a jolt of adrenaline pierces through it and I back away from him, almost falling off the couch.


    ¡°Easy, Adriana. You¡¯re safe.¡±


    Safe? I¡¯m not fucking safe.


    I blink blearily and sit up on the couch. I¡¯m wearing one of Vince¡¯s robes, but we¡¯re in Carmine¡¯s house. The only light on in the house is themp on the end table. A horrible shock runs through my body.


    ¡°How did I get here?¡±


    Thest thing I remember was pressure against my neck, and then I passed out.


    Carmine sits across from me on the coffee table, looking anxious. ¡°I put you in a sleeper hold and brought you here. You weren¡¯t being cooperative.¡±


    It¡¯s only a matter of time before Vince finds us. Stall him.


    Suddenly, he hangs his head and massages his forehead. ¡°I¡¯m in a lot of fucking trouble.¡±


    Good. Keep him talking. I swallow my nerves and try to sound concerned. ¡°Why? What happened?¡±


    He rubs his eyes. ¡°I killed that cop. And my mother, too.¡±


    I wrap my robe more tightly around my body, as if it can protect me from him. The light is gone from his eyes, almost as if he¡¯s dead, too. He sps his hands together and looks over my shoulder, wide-eyed.


    ¡°Why would you do such a thing?¡±


    He bursts into oddughter that makes me a chill run up my back. ¡°Listen to you, acting all innocent.¡± He ps his thighs. ¡°You talk to me like I¡¯m some kind of psycho, like I run around killing people every goddamn day. I always do things for a reason, Adriana. The cop was a necessity. He knew too much and it was his time to go. My mother was an ident, but that bitch had iting for years.¡±


    Jesus.


    He¡¯s nuts.


    That cold, hateful look is back on his face. The one that makes me doubt that he was ever human.


    ¡°She did abuse you. You told me how much she scared you as a kid.¡±


    Carmine stands up and sits down next to me on the couch. He leans his head back and murmurs. ¡°Sometimes, I wonder what I would¡¯ve been like if my dad raised me.¡± He opens his eyes and turns his body towards me. ¡°Adriana, I know I¡¯m fucked up.¡±


    My lips part as he looks at me, his eyes fractured with pain. I don¡¯t say anything.


    ¡°You would understand if you knew what I went through as a child, but I¡¯m trying to be better.¡±


    Please don¡¯te any closer to me.


    He watches me for a moment, waiting for me to say something-to tell him that it¡¯s okay, and that I trust him. It¡¯s not okay. I don¡¯t trust him.


    I nod my head and he looks away, relieved.


    ¡°Tony is going toe after me. And that fucking asshole. When they do, I¡¯ll be fucking ready. They¡¯ll be thest casualties before we start our new life.¡±


    He caresses the side of my face as my mind goes nk with terror.


    ¡°What do you mean, ¡®new life?''¡± My skin grows hot when he smiles.


    ¡°I¡¯m taking us out of this shit hole.¡±


    What?


    ¡°-But my life is here. My school. Everyone I¡¯ve ever known. I can¡¯t leave.¡±


    ¡°Yes, you can.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t leave, either. You¡¯re in a-you can just leave, Carmine.¡±


    He smiles crookedly. ¡°Well, if they want to kill me, they can try.¡± Carmine grunts as he stands up, pacing up and down the room. ¡°Fuck Tony and his bullshit. After I do him, we¡¯ll leave this ce. We¡¯ll just drive somewhere far away where nobody knows us. I have lots of cash in this ce that we could live off for a long time.¡±


    ¡°Carmine,¡± I say in a louder voice. ¡°I¡¯m not in lov-¡± I stop at the look on his face.


    He stands up and I can feel the heat emanating from his figure. ¡°You don¡¯t, but you will.¡± Carmine reaches inside his jacket, pulling out a gun. ¡°I can wait for as long as it takes.¡±


    Fuck.


    My fists ball at my sides. ¡°I¡¯m not going anywhere with you.¡±


    Carmine gazes down at me, bewildered by my stubbornness. ¡°Do you realize what I¡¯ve fucking done for you? I betrayed the Rizzos so that I could be with you. Because I love you, and you¡¯re the only person who can make me into a better man. I¡¯m sorry for everything I¡¯ve done to you-everything with your family. Why can¡¯t you just fucking see that?¡±N?vel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.


    What the fuck is he talking about?


    The gun waves in his hand and I duck out of its sight, scrambling off the couch to hide from him. His loud footsteps corner me against the wall and I let out an ear-splitting scream as his gun wavers near my head.


    CRACK!


    The front door sts open and Carmine ms into the wall, his arm outstretched. I throw myself on the floor as holes the size of craters explode near Carmine¡¯s head.


    ¡°Motherfucker!¡±


    I can¡¯t see anything in the house from the floor, can¡¯t hear anything but my own screams. What the fuck is happening? Who is shooting us? On my hands and knees, I crawl behind the sofa. I rest my back against the couch and flinch horribly at the sounds of them exchanging gunfire. Picture frames shatter and cheap ster blows from the walls like chunks of white confetti. I inch my head above the sofa and see Carmine pinned against the wall, shooting at the open door.


    Suddenly a handnds on my shoulder and I scream. Carmine wheels around with his gun and I raise my hands. An explosion bursts my ears and the body behind me crashes into the floor with a thud. I look at him.


    A dark-haired man whose face I know very well is screwed up in pain, a dark hole burning through his shoulder. His gun lies on the floor next to his hand.


    ¡°Fuck,¡± he mouths.


    ¡°Vince!¡±


    No, no, NO!


    I swallow his wound with my hands. The blood pools around it immediately, staining my hands. A rough hand grabs my shoulder and shoves me aside. Carmine aims his gun.


    ¡°NO!¡±


    I tackle his legs with every bit of strength inside me and he stumbles backwards. Then I position myself over Vince¡¯s body and Carmine looks at me with poison in his eyes.


    I will not let him die. I will not.


    ¡°Carmine, I love him. Please don¡¯t-please don¡¯t kill him.¡±


    His face twists in fury. ¡°I fucking saw you first!¡± he screams. ¡°I knew you. I knew your mother.¡±


    Behind me, Vince sits up against the couch and tries to push me aside. His fingers still brush over the gun, but Carmine is so upset that he¡¯spletely forgotten about it.


    ¡°What-what are you talking about?¡±


    Vince leans forward, I feel him against my back. ¡°He killed your father. He collected payments-¡±


    A hole explodes into the sofa right next to his head, missing him by inches.


    ¡°Shut the fuck up.¡± His face is red, strained, but he doesn¡¯t deny what Vincent said.


    The man in my nightmares who dragged his knife across Dad¡¯s throat is him? Carmine? I don¡¯t believe it.


    ¡°I don¡¯t believe it.¡±


    He looks at me with the same tortured look he gave me when he told me about killing his mother. ¡°It was a mistake, Adriana. I was in love with your mom. I just wanted us to be together.¡±


    It¡¯s absurd. I can¡¯t believe it. My father died because some lunatic thought he could have my mother.


    ¡°You were in love with my mom?¡±


    ¡°She-she was always nice to me when I went over there. I was a boy, and I made a terrible mistake-¡±


    ¡°You killed him!¡± I scream suddenly. ¡°That wasn¡¯t a fucking mistake! You selfish, piece of shit. You ruined my life!¡±


    Remorse fills his face until Vincent groans painfully and then rage thickens his features. He shoves me to the side as he buries his gun against Vince¡¯s forehead.


    ¡°It¡¯s all your fucking fault. Why can¡¯t you just fucking go away? I gave you up to the fucking cops, and you¡¯re still here. How?¡±


    Vince looks at Carmine square in the eye. ¡°You don¡¯t want to kill me. You want Tony. He set you up.¡±


    A forced grin stretches his face. He nudges the gun. ¡°Go ahead. Spin your little fairy tale.¡±


    I force myself to remain calm. When I look at Carmine, I¡¯m filled with disgust.


    ¡°It¡¯s true, Carmine. He forced me to end my engagement to Vince to get closer to you because they knew all along that you were talking tow enforcement. They wanted me to find proof.¡±


    An anguished look spreads over Carmine¡¯s lined face as he steps back, looking from me to Vince as if to catch us in a lie.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t find out until recently, but Tony told me himself. He¡¯s the one who has been jerking us all around for months. He needs to die.¡±


    Vince makes a face and I turn towards him. His entire sleeve is soaked with blood and I press down on the wound.


    I kissed my father¡¯s murderer and actually liked him in the beginning. I hate myself.


    ¡°How could you do this to me?¡±


    The tone of betrayal in his voice makes me angry. A throb of ragebines with the grief I still feel over my dad.


    ¡°You killed my dad. We¡¯re even.¡±


    Carmine chokes and momentarily lifts his gun as he grabs the sides of his head, looking deranged. ¡°I can¡¯t believe this.¡± Then he points the gun at us shakily. ¡°You both should die.¡±


    ¡°I had no choice. Please let us go!¡±


    ¡°Do you love him?¡±


    I freeze beside Vince, acutely aware of the gun pointed to my chest. I grasp Vince¡¯s hand and my eyes squint, waiting for the explosion-for sudden death. For some reason, my brain has calmly epted this.


    ¡°Yes, I do.¡±


    The anguish on his face makes me feel a little guilty. He looks down at his feet for a moment and a spasm of energy moves through his body. He raises his gun and aims it at Vince, who scrabbles for handle of his. Vince shoves me aside when I move my body over his, and another horrible crack splits the air. Vince falls on his side and I see smoke spiraling from Carmine¡¯s gun.


    Crack. Crack.


    Vince fires from the floor at an angle and Carmine screams as it cuts into the side of his face. He dives into the kitchen as gunshots st from Vince¡¯s gun and then I hear the sound of a screen door opening and rapid footsteps.


    Then I hear nothing but the sound of Vincent¡¯s haggard breaths, and the ticking of the grandfather clock.


    From the moonlight in the kitchen, a pool of darkness spills around Vince¡¯s body, which remains so still that if it weren¡¯t for the sound of his breaths, I would think he was dead. Then his eyes-his beautiful, dark eyes that I love so much, slowly close.

 2-35

    CARMINE


    I yank the parking brake and hightail it out of my house before the copse. Neighbors will have heard the shots and I don¡¯t want to be here.


    I don¡¯t want to be anywhere.


    My heart feels like it¡¯s been torn apart. It¡¯s so painful that my chest shakes with sobs as I drive down the street. She hurt me. She destroyed me. I ran out of my own house like a coward, because I couldn¡¯t stand to see the hatred on her face. I meant nothing to her.


    I just want the pain to fucking end. All my life, I¡¯ve been a fucking joke with women. My own mother treated me like I was scum, and every woman since her has done the same thing. The same thing always happens to me.


    You¡¯re not worthy of love.


    I¡¯ll just fucking drive my car to the bridge, jump out, and hurl my body over it. That¡¯s it. I don¡¯t want to live anymore. This crushing sadness. The aching, endless drip of loneliness with no end in sight. I¡¯m done with being humiliated, crushed, and led on. Wasn¡¯t I nice to her? Wasn¡¯t I always?


    Smashing my fist into the car radio makes me feel better. I pound it until shards of stic stick into my skin, bleeding.


    She was a fucking cunt to lead me on. I feel like such a fucking loser.


    An image of her clinging to him, begging me to spare him, burns in my mind. Their love for each other was in as day. It was so obvious and incredible, that it made me feel so small inparison.


    I just wish I had that.


    Ashamed, I ran from them like a fucking coward. With any luck, that fucker will bleed out and then she¡¯ll feel the pain I¡¯m in right now.


    Bitch.


    I pull my car into the empty parking lot next to Coney Ind boardwalk and I get out, mming the door shut. The salty breeze whips my hair and I gulp air down as if I¡¯m drowning.


    I have no idea why I drove here. I don¡¯t even remember driving.


    My eyes are drawn to the giant Ferris wheel, which is lit up merrily against the night sky.


    ¡°Carmine, let¡¯s go!¡±


    ¡°But I want to y. Why can¡¯t I y with the other kids?¡±


    ¡°Cause you¡¯re a nasty, spiteful little boy. I¡¯m protecting the other children by keeping you away from them.¡±


    My heart aches. I internalized it and cried alone in my bedroom. I wished I were good so that I could y with the other kids. Why did I have to be born so evil?


    The oceans roars in front of me and for a moment I consider running into the waves with open arms to let it consume me.


    Fuck suicide. My eyes steam with a vision of Tony,ughing his fat ass off when he realizes what he¡¯s done to me. The vision mingles with my mother throwing her head back in shrillughter.


    I¡¯m a monster. I¡¯m no good for anyone.


    Then if I¡¯m a monster, I¡¯ll be the worst kind possible. I¡¯ll find Tony and kill every one of his supporters. They may not have been involved in Tony¡¯s n, but they were just as untrustworthy.


    I only fucked over people who were going down anyway, with the exception of Cesare. Why the fuck would Tony care I was feeding shit to the cops about him? Didn¡¯t he want the Vittorios dead?


    Then I¡¯ll get rid of Adriana and Vincent. They humiliated me, and they need to die.


    If I¡¯m going down, they¡¯re all fucking going down. I don¡¯t care if I die, but I will not go down as some kind of loser. I will be feared. They¡¯ll respect me-all of them!


    My hand shakes as I return to the car and open the door. My hands hover the steering wheel, whitened with rage except for the tiny flecks of blood where I smashed in the radio. It¡¯ll be hard to get to Tony, especially when he¡¯s always surrounded by people. I have plenty of guns in my trunk. I could get my semi-automatic and open fire once I get inside. I might die in the process, but I have nothing to live for anyway.


    I start the car and pull out of the boardwalk, driving carefully down the streets. Thest thing I want is to attract attention.


    He could be at a number of ces: the deli, his house, the bar he owns, the casino, the restaurants. I nce at my watch. At this time, the fat fuck is probably stuffing pasta down his throat.


    I drive down to Jersey City and I think about crashing my car into the restaurant. What will I do after I kill them? Take off? A violent whirlwind of thoughts keeps me from making a decision. I don¡¯t know what to do, and it doesn¡¯t matter. I don¡¯t care about living anymore. I just want to cause the people who hurt me as much pain as I fucking can before I go.


    I park on the other side of the restaurant, and from here I can see Furio guarding the entrance. Bending over, I slide my semi-automatic into my jacket carefully, and then I clutch the handle of my knife.


    Time to die, assholes.


    I cross the silent street of this crumbling city and my eyes lock on Gambini¡¯s, the restaurant. Smiling, I approach Furio as my right hand twitches by my side.


    ¡°Carmine, the boss has been looking for you.¡±


    I embrace his thick shoulders with my left hand while my right hand grabs the knife in my belt and stabs him between his ribs. It enters him silently as Furio gives a strangled gasp. He sighs when I pull it out and I stab through the muscles several more times, feeling his warmth gushing over my hands. Then I step back and allow him to copse to the concrete, knife still clutched in my hand. The blood covering my de reminds me of strawberry jam. I smile at that and kneel down, wiping it off his trousers.


    ¡°Sorry, man,¡± I say to the dying guard. I have no beef with him, but sometimes that¡¯s how it goes. Oh well.


    I peer inside the restaurant and smile. No one noticed anything. I¡¯m like a fucking ninja. Securing the knife back inside my belt, I grab my semi-automatic.


    Visualize it.


    There are guys everywhere, but I can get them quickly if I focus. I see myself firing at each person in rapid session; their bodies iling as giant holes explode in their body. Adrenaline runs through my veins and I take a shaky breath before I casually open the door. The guard by the door sees me, recognizes me. I extend a hand with a smile.


    He reaches for it-BAM. The hair trigger gets him immediately. I turn around before I see him drop to get the two others across the room. The rat-a-tat of gunfire fills my ears as I get them quickly, and then I turn towards Tony¡¯s table. He¡¯s surrounded by his capos. Bullets fly in my direction but I stand up straight and unleash my fury on all of them. Blood sprays the checkered tablecloths as every captain flies in the air, smashing into tables nearby. I walk closer and barely flinch when their gun nozzles sh at me. Blood and brain matter sprays into the air like pink mist. Holes gouge into the walls and when I stop, the restaurant is deadly silent. Death is quiet.


    Tony¡¯s dinner is covered in blood and he looks at me without fear, fury etched on every line on his face. The body of John, the first captain I shot, still sits in his chair. His mouth gapes open obscenely as blood drips down his ears and nose. The top of his head is blown off. I ce a hand on the guy¡¯s shoulder and shove him off the chair. Then I take his ce, sliding into the chair across Tony with my gun pointed at the fucker¡¯s heart.


    He stares at me as I settle into the blood soaked table. I grab the ss of wine sitting in front of me and tip it down my throat.


    ¡°What the fuck did you just do?¡±


    I m the ss back on the table and notice that there are bloody fingerprints all over the ss. I¡¯ll have to wipe thoseter.


    ¡°You fucked me over, I fuck you over.¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± His face is nk, but his eyes burn with malice.


    Piece of shit.


    ¡°I should smash in your fat fucking head for what you did to me. I know about Adriana.¡±


    Tony holds his hands up to cate me and that makes me grin. He looks surprised. None of them ever took me seriously.


    I¡¯ll bet you do now, you fat fuck.


    ¡°Carmine, think about this.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve thought about it a lot, actually. What your face would look like when I shove my gun in your mouth.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s your n, huh?¡± he snaps. ¡°How the fuck do you think you¡¯re going to get away with this.¡±


    ¡°Well, I just killed all your captains, Tone. After I kill you,¡± I shrug. ¡°I don¡¯t fucking care if I live. I just want to see your blood all over the floor.¡±


    His face whitens. ¡°Carmine, let me go and I promise I won¡¯t go after you. I already covered up your mother¡¯s death for you-¡±


    Nothing passes by me.


    ¡°You were saving your fucking fat ass as much as you were saving mine. Don¡¯t lie to me.¡±


    Tony ms his fist into the table and I almost shoot him.


    ¡°Fine!¡± he screams. ¡°I knew you were ratting us out to the cops and I wanted you to do something stupid-something that would get your ass in jail, so I sent that girl after you.¡±


    He seizes a butter knife on the table.


    ¡°You think I¡¯m fucking stupid, don¡¯t you?¡±


    The nozzle of the gun wavers in his face. Tony can¡¯t keep his eyes off it.


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t-¡±


    He¡¯d say anything to save his ass.


    ¡°I was trying to get that piece of shit Cesare in jail-to get rid of him! Isn¡¯t that what you wanted, you stupid fuck?¡±


    Tony flinches from my voice. ¡°Please put the gun down.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    I shove the chair back when I stand up, keeping the gun trained on Tony¡¯s face.


    ¡°Anyst words?¡±


    He lowers his hands. ¡°Yeah, fuck you.¡±


    Tony dives to the floor as I open fire. I step to the side and see the fat fuck curled on the floor, three neat holes in his back. He reaches for his gun and slips in his own blood. His head bursts into meaty fragments as I aim and fire.


    Fucking asshole.


    The deafening shots make my ears ring and only when Tony¡¯s face is mauled beyond recognition do I stop firing.


    A wailing song outside sends a jolt through my heart.


    Time to leave.


    It¡¯s only when I stand in the doorway and look back on the carnage that I appreciate the magnitude of what I just did. I¡¯ve butchered the Rizzo family. Technically, as the only captain still alive, that would make me the boss.


    Too bad I can¡¯t stay here.


    But what if I did?


    I run across the street, almost tripping over Furio¡¯s body as I jump into my car. The lights from the street barely illuminate his body. I can almost imagine what the inside would look like in daylight, beautiful, bright red stter all over the walls, which would turn brown as it dried.


    I couldn¡¯t be the boss of New Jersey, not without supporters.


    I wrench open the door and slide inside the car seat, my blood still boiling. It was immensely satisfying to see that prick die, but the joy seemed to run right through me.


    I¡¯m still alone. By morning, I¡¯ll be facing murder charges when Adriana tells the cops what happened.


    My hand turns the key in the ignition, an ugly flush filling my cheeks.


    Down the street, I see something strange. A woman walking with an older woman¡¯s gait. The yellow light from the street burns her face, which twists in that hateful look I know so well.


    Mom?


    Holy fuck, she¡¯s supposed to be dead.


    She seems to spot me cowering in the car and then rushes forward, her hand rising with a kitchen knife.


    ¡°Come here, Carmine! You little shit! I¡¯ll stab you in the eye!¡±¡±FUCK!¡±


    I yank the wheel to the left and floor it, my right headlight smashing into the car parked in front of me. Then I burn a red light as my heart pounds so hard that the blood rush makes me dizzy.


    She¡¯s still there. How does she still exist?This text is ? N?velDrama/.Org.


    A weak, powerless feeling ovees me. I thought that if I killed her, she would be purged from my mind. The torture and the self-ming would finally stop.


    Maybe it¡¯s because she¡¯s alive. Adriana.


    I thought she was the woman of my dreams; the girl who would finally rece my mother. I shouldn¡¯t have wanted that, because it is exactly what she did. She reced my mother, a continuation of my torture.


    That cunt used me. Tried to have me killed.


    So I¡¯ll kill her.

 2-36

    ADRIANA


    It¡¯s thirteen years ago and I¡¯m kneeling beside my dad as a growing pool of blood spreads underneath him.


    ¡°No, please. Wake up, wake up!¡±


    Vince-my dad,ys still. His mouth moves soundlessly, his eyes still closed. Tears from my face ssh on his cheeks, and he flinches.


    Save him. Get to the phone.


    I stumble over his legs in a panic to rip the phone from the wall. I dial the numbers and wait until a voice clicks.


    ¡°9-1-1 what¡¯s your emerg-¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s been shot,¡± I yell into the phone. ¡°Twice. Please, get here quickly.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s your address?¡±


    I scream into the phone. ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± I just want to scream at the pointlessness of it all. No matter what I do, someone I love gets hurt.


    ¡°Ma¡¯am calm down. Look for some mail and tell me the address.¡±


    ¡°For mail?¡± I ask stupidly, notprehending.


    ¡°There may be an address on an envelope-¡±


    I look around wildly, searching for something, anything while Vincent dies on the floor.


    Fuck, he¡¯s dying. He¡¯s going to die unless I do something!


    Mail!


    There are envelopes sitting on the kitchen counter and I dive for them, reading the address to her.


    ¡°Please stay on the line. They¡¯reing.¡±


    I drop the phone so that it hangs from the wall and I return to Vince. I rip open his jacket and bunch his shirt over the gunshot wound in his chest, trying to stem the flow. His face screws up in pain and a small breath shudders from his lips.


    ¡°Vince, Vince. Stay with me.¡±


    The door ms open, scaring the shit out of me. I think of Carmine, who must being back to kill us, but instead paramedics rush inside the dingy, dark apartment with a stretcher.


    I stand aside as they work quickly, padding his wounds and lifting him onto the stretcher. I follow it out the door and climb into the ER vehicle with them. I sit down near his feet as they cut away his clothes. Every moan he makes, every painful groan cuts me right down to my soul. The pressure inside my throat builds up and I keep swallowing my tears down, refusing to lose it. The only reason I don¡¯t is because I¡¯ve got it in my head that he needs me to be calm. I grab hold of his leg and squeeze him, feeling his warmth behind the thin fabric.


    There¡¯s no way in hell that Vince will sumb to this. He¡¯s always been so strong. Imprable. Seeing himid out like this turns my world upside down.


    ¡°Is he going to be okay?¡±


    They ignore me. The paramedic slips on a stethoscope and rattles off his blood pressure. Another inserts a line into his arm.


    The next few minutes are spent in agonizing silence, punctuated asionally by Vincent, whose painful moans make me ball my hands into fists.


    ¡°It¡¯s going to be okay, Vince,¡± I keep repeating. ¡°It¡¯ll be okay!¡±


    The van screeches to a halt and I move aside as the doors fly open. They whisk him away and I climb down, following them as my heart beats in my throat. I jog near his head and try to hold his hand. His bare chest looks pale under the harsh lights of the hospital, the bright red blood swathing his side like a stroke of a giant paintbrush.


    Tears choke my throat. ¡°Vince. Vince, it¡¯ll be okay. It¡¯ll be all right!¡±


    Please be all right.


    The paramedic stops me from following them further when we go inside. ¡°Ma¡¯am, you¡¯re going to have to stay here. He needs surgery.¡±


    ¡°Oh, God.¡± I cup my mouth and watch hopelessly as they disappear behind the double doors.


    ¡°The doctor will update you.¡±


    He ces a warm hand on my shoulder as tears finally flood over my cheeks. I wipe my face and notice that there¡¯s blood all over my hands.


    * * *


    The hospital waiting room is so bright that I can barely keep my eyes open. It¡¯s as if they¡¯re designed to be as ufortable as possible while you agonize about your loved one.


    It keeps ying over and over in my mind.


    The vicious look on Carmine¡¯s face when he raises his gun at me. Blue eyes narrowed in jealousy. He wanted me and Vince dead. I sit up straight and look around, suddenly fearful, but the room is deserted except for two other people.


    A young couple sits across the room. He pulls her onto hisp and they kiss passionately, as if they¡¯re in a private room. They look content just to be in each other¡¯s arms. Like they don¡¯t need anything else. He saved me.


    He threw himself over my body to catch the bullet that was meant for me.


    Now, he might be dying.


    ¡°Hey, Adriana.¡±


    A familiar voice makes me lift my head. A short, Italian man stands in front of me, looking aghast.


    ¡°Nicky.¡±


    I stand up and he gives me a fierce hug. The pain from everything boils over and sobs shake from my chest. Behind him, I see Jack, Paulie and the rest of Vince¡¯s crew, standing at a respectable distance.


    ¡°Vince is in surgery right now.¡±


    Hours ago, I watched as they wheeled Vince¡¯s body into emergency surgery. One bullet hit his shoulder; the other sank into his chest.


    Nicky squeezes me. ¡°Vince is a tough guy. He¡¯ll be all right.¡±


    ¡°You have to find Carmine,¡± I beg him. ¡°He¡¯s going toe after us again.¡±


    ¡°We will.¡±


    A surge of hatred rises in my chest. ¡°Please tell me that you¡¯ll make him suffer.¡±


    I almost forgot that the piece of shit murdered Dad. He had the balls toe into my life, when he knew the entire time who I was and what he¡¯d done to my family. For years I wondered what my life would¡¯ve been like if Dad lived. He might¡¯ve curbed my mother¡¯s behavior and maybe I wouldn¡¯t be a fucking alcoholic. Maybe I wouldn¡¯t have panic attacks or nightmares.


    Fuck him.


    Vince was the one who helped me through it all. A fresh wave of tears spills over my cheeks as I draw breath sharply. He saved me, but I couldn¡¯t save him.


    ¡°We¡¯ll try,¡± he says softly, patting my back. ¡°Listen, the cops will be here soon. You can¡¯t tell them anything.¡±


    ¡°I-I won¡¯t.¡±


    He pulls back and gives me a small smile, and then Jack joins us. For the first time since I met him, he looks shaken.


    ¡°I wish he told us where he was headed. We could have backed him up.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t me yourself. Carmine kidnapped me from his house. I think when he saw that I wasn¡¯t there, he went straight to Carmine¡¯s house and-¡± my chest tightens and I can¡¯t continue. ¡°Please find him.¡±


    ¡°We will, hon. I¡¯m sorry this happened to you. I¡¯m sorry about everything.¡±


    He slides an arm around my shoulder and squeezes me.


    A pair of cops enter the waiting room and make a beeline towards us. Jack tenses at my side and I inhale deeply, preparing to fend off their questions.


    ¡°Adriana Baldino? We¡¯d like to ask you some questions, if you don¡¯t mind.¡±


    A police officer with a concerned look on his face addresses me and I nod at him. Nicky, Paulie, and all the others watch me carefully.


    ¡°We know that you made the 9-1-1 call from 3654 Monument Boulevard, and there were reports of shots being fired in the household. We wanted to get your witness statement.¡±


    ¡°A man came in the house and shot me and Vincent. I don¡¯t know what he looks like.¡±


    ¡°Ma¡¯am,¡± he begins impatiently. ¡°We need more information. Do you know the whereabouts of Carmine Lhesi? Was he the shooter?¡±


    I blink at him and shrug my shoulders. His gaze slides to Jack instead and pulls photographs from inside his jacket. The photographs clearly show Carmine entering a restaurant.


    ¡°Do you know this man? Do you know where he is?¡±


    Jack smiles and shrugs his shoulders.


    The officer gives us all an extremely frustrated look. ¡°Don¡¯t you want to help your friend? We¡¯re trying to find the man who did this.¡±


    But after a few minutes of silence, he stuffs the photographs back under his arm and turns around to leave.


    ¡°They¡¯ll be back, Ade. No matter what, keep your mouth shut. This is for Vince¡¯s sake, too.¡±


    We all turn around when we see a man in a white coat and blue scrubs leave the double doors and approach us.


    Oh my fucking God he¡¯sing towards us.


    I search his face desperately for any hint of an emotion. Does he look sad? Wary? Happy? The doctor¡¯s face is decidedly neutral.


    ¡°Are you Adriana Baldino?¡±


    I hold my breath, as if anything I say might blow him away. ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Vincent is out of surgery and he¡¯s in stable condition. Both bullets missed vital organs and I don¡¯t expect there to be any nerve damage to his arm. He¡¯s a very, very lucky man. There¡¯s still a risk for infection, so he¡¯ll need to be on antibiotics for a while.¡±


    Jack squeezes my shoulder. ¡°Thanks, doc.¡±


    I can¡¯t speak. I feel far away.


    ¡°You can visit him in a little bit. The nurse will let you know.¡±


    He smiles at us and walks away, and I¡¯m left reeling.


    ¡°Did you hear that? He¡¯s going to be fine!¡± He shakes my shoulder.


    He¡¯s going to be fine.


    I heard, but I don¡¯t really believe it. Tension loosens from my shoulders and I slump in Jack¡¯s arms, suddenly exhausted.


    We follow the nurse into the room half an hourter, with me fighting the urge not to sprint ahead of her. I have to see that he¡¯s all right. Will he hate me for all the shit I¡¯ve dragged him into?


    The moment I see his dark head propped on pillows, his eyes alert and awake, I burst into tears. The weight of thest few hours was unbearable, and keeping my emotions firmly stamped down was even harder. He smiles at me from the bed and I take a seat near his head, looking at all the tubes attached to him. His right hand holds a button to the morphine drip, which he periodically clicks on. A ze covers both of his eyes. He looks exhausted, but fine.


    He really is fine.


    ¡°Hey,¡± he croaks out.


    ¡°I was so worried.¡± I take his hand in mine and tears slip down my face when he smiles at me. The broad, confident smile I¡¯m so used to is weakened somewhat, but it¡¯s still him. He¡¯s unbreakable.


    ¡°I told you not to worry about me,¡± he says in a slightly slurred voice. ¡°Fuck, this shit is so good.¡±


    Jack approaches the bed. ¡°Hey, tough guy.¡±


    Vince¡¯s eyes fly open again. ¡°Jack, Carmine is still out there. You can¡¯t let her leave.¡±


    I rub his bare arm. ¡°I won¡¯t. I¡¯m staying here with you.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re on it, Vince. You just rest.¡±


    He fights to keep his eyes open. ¡°I won¡¯t rest until he¡¯s dead.¡±


    * * *


    Fingers y with my hair, smoothing the strands over my face. It tickles and I smile. Opening my eyes, I see Vincent wide-awake on the hospital bed, the ze gone from his eyes. Brilliant sunshine streams in through the blinds.


    ¡°Kiss me.¡±


    He speaks with that same undeniable authority that he had the moment I met him. His eyes ze as I lean over the bed carefully and give him a quick peck on his lips. When I pull away, his eyebrows are furrowed.


    ¡°What was that?¡±


    ¡°Vince, you were just shot. I don¡¯t want to hurt you.¡±


    His arm lifts to my face and sweeps around my head, and then he pulls me closer so that his lips crush against mine. His feverish lips kiss me over and over until I feel lightheaded, and when he lets go it¡¯s only because he needs to breathe.


    ¡°I¡¯m d you¡¯re feeling better.¡± A smile twitches on my face.


    ¡°I just want to get out of here. I hate hospitals.¡±


    ¡°The doctor might discharge you tonight. I don¡¯t know how, but you didn¡¯t get any nerve or bone damage. It¡¯s a miracle.¡±


    For some reason, at the sound of my words his face falls. He looks depressed. What did I say?


    He speaks slowly. ¡°It¡¯s a miracle you aren¡¯t dead. He got you in my own house. In my own fucking house. I don¡¯t think I can ever forgive myself.¡±


    Those passionate, wide eyes that I love so much are wet. He closes his eyes as if in pain.


    I take his head in my hand and I stroke his hair. ¡°You saved me. If it weren¡¯t for you, who knows what would¡¯ve happened to me.¡±


    ¡°If I wasn¡¯t in your life, you wouldn¡¯t have gone through any of this shit. I feel so fucking guilty for everything that¡¯s happened to you.¡±


    I squeeze his hand hard. ¡°Vince, I wasn¡¯t happy before you. I had no one who cared about me. Now I have you, and yes, it hasn¡¯t been a quiet ride, but at least we have each other. Because of you, I know who murdered my dad. That means so much to me.¡±


    My voice is thick with tears. His eyes re open and his hand suddenly clenches over mine.


    ¡°I don¡¯t feel good about it. He¡¯s out there biding his fucking time, and we¡¯re sitting ducks in here.¡±


    ¡°Vince, he can¡¯t get us in a hospital.¡±


    ¡°Are you basing that on the fact that he has a normal, healthy brain? He¡¯s a fucking lunatic who was obsessed with your mother, and now he¡¯s obsessed with you.¡±


    His frustration at being confined in a bed couldn¡¯t be more evident. He struggles to sit up and I help him press the button to lift his bed.


    I can¡¯t pretend that Vince¡¯s warnings don¡¯t scare the shit out of me, but I¡¯m trying to put on a brave face for him. A soft knock at the door makes us both tense.


    The door opens, admitting Jack who has a look on his face that makes my stomach drop.


    ¡°Vince, I¡¯ve some news. Ade, do you mind waiting outside?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not letting her out of my goddamn sight until that psycho is dead. You can say whatever you need to say in front of her.¡±


    Vince glowers at both of us, daring us to object. If it keeps him calm, I¡¯ll stay.


    ¡°Fine,¡± Jack says impatiently. He tightens his jacket around himself and sits down next to me. ¡°They found Tony and his capos shot to death in his restaurant. Someone went on a fucking rampage.¡±


    His eyes widen. ¡°Jesus. When?¡±


    ¡°It happenedst night. Security footage captured a guy walking in there and out several minutester.¡±


    ¡°It has to be Carmine, right?¡±


    Vince suddenlyughs. ¡°I can¡¯t believe he managed that by himself.¡± A smile spreads on his face. ¡°Hey, this is great news.¡±


    Jack shakes his head. ¡°I¡¯m not so sure, Vinny. The soldiers in Rizzo¡¯s family are scrambling to elect leadership while other families poach their territory. I¡¯m d that asshole is gone, but the war in Jersey could spill on our turf if we aren¡¯t careful.¡±


    ¡°Who the fuck cares? The Rizzos are finished, that¡¯s what matters.¡±


    ¡°Not if Carmine decides he wants to be boss. He has a lot of loyal soldiers after what happened yesterday. They¡¯re scared shitless of him.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯d like to see him be boss with half of New Jersey¡¯s police force after him. He probably whacked that cop, stupid fuck.¡± Vince rubs his chin thoughtfully and then he grabs the railings of his bed, almost as if he wants to lift himself out. ¡°I can¡¯t just fucking sit here when that psycho could be anywhere.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing you can do. I have everyone on the streets cracking heads to find out where the bastard is. No one has seen him.¡±


    ¡°Fuck.¡±


    The blood roars in my ears as I listen to their frank conversation. Neither of them has ever talked so openly in front of me. I stand up and move to the window, looking down into the streets below us as if I might spot Carmine leaning against a wall.


    ¡°So, how are you feeling?¡±


    ¡°Good, good¡­¡±


    The conversation dissolves into a discussion about Vince¡¯s health and when he¡¯ll be on his feet again. Then the door flies open and Vince sits up in his bed, wincing horribly, and I grab the windowsill.


    It¡¯s Carmine. He¡¯s here to kill us.


    An older woman dressed in a Sunday dress bursts into the room, followed by an exasperated nurse.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, sir. I couldn¡¯t stop her!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m his mother!¡±


    It¡¯s Mrs. Cesare. A surge of heat rises up my neck when she tears across the room and flings herself over Vince¡¯s hospital bed. I wonder how much Vincent told her about our ¡®break-up.¡¯ He sends me an angry look.


    What? I didn¡¯t call her.


    ¡°Ma, what are you doin¡¯ here?¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± she asks in an almost offended tone. ¡°I¡¯m your mother! Oh my God.¡±


    She plucks at the tubes leading to arm, the gauze fastened over his wounds. She sps her veined hands around her mouth and a noisy sob shakes from her mouth. ¡°Look at what happened to you. My poor baby.¡±


    His face burns scarlet. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not fine.¡± She fusses over him, fluffing his pillow and smoothing out his bed sheet. She wipes her eyes. ¡°Who did this to you?¡± Her hands vibrate with a mother¡¯s rage, as if she wants to call the parents of the kid who hurt her son.


    ¡°Erm-I think I¡¯ll go. Good seeing you, Gloria.¡± Jack approaches her to give her a kiss and then he leaves with a relieved air.


    ¡°Bye Jack.¡±


    I have a sudden urge to leave the room with Jack, but Vincent¡¯s pointed re warns me not to leave him alone. I take a step forward and Mrs. Cesare notices my presence for the first time. She jumps, uttering a little scream.


    ¡°Adriana!¡±


    I give her a hesitant smile. Vince¡¯s eyes bulge out and he waves his hands behind her back. ¡°Hi, Mrs. Cesare.¡±


    My cheeks burn as she fixes me with an intense stare.


    ¡°Are you and my boy back together, then?¡±


    ¡°Y-yes.¡±


    She bursts into tears andunches herself at me, her arms almost straining my neck as she gives me a fierce hug.


    ¡°I was so upset when Vinny told me you guys were over. What happened? Did he say something-¡±


    ¡°MA! That¡¯s enough!¡±


    ¡°Never mind, it doesn¡¯t matter!¡± A pink tinge rises in her cheeks as her son res at her. ¡°I¡¯m just so happy you¡¯re back together. I didn¡¯t have any hope for my son when you left him. He¡¯s handsome, but he has no manners.¡±


    Ignoring Vincent¡¯s violent hand gestures, I look at Mrs. Cesare¡¯s beaming face. ¡°I didn¡¯t leave him by choice. It¡¯s a long story.¡±


    Vincent grabs the sides of his head and utters a low growl. ¡°You¡¯re driving me up the wall and it hasn¡¯t been five fucking minutes. Leave her alone!¡±


    Mrs. Cesare turns around to the hospital bed, a very angry look on her face. ¡°How dare you talk to me like that? I¡¯m your mother, not some maid.¡±


    ¡°This wasn¡¯t the best time for you toe and visit. It¡¯s not safe. That¡¯s why I didn¡¯t call you.¡±


    ¡°Safe? What do you mean?¡±


    Vince sits up in his bed and bellows at the door. ¡°NICKY!¡±


    I jump at the noise. ¡°Vincent, rx. I¡¯ll go get him.¡±


    I cross over the room past a bewildered Mrs. Cesare and I open the door, finding Nicky posted at the entrance.


    ¡°Nicky, Vince wants you.¡±Belongs ? to N?velDrama.Org.


    He follows me inside and makes a sound of jubtion. ¡°Hey, there he is! You feeling okay?¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± he says through his teeth. ¡°Could you take my mother outside and please do not let her out of your goddamn sight?¡±


    ¡°But I just got here!¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t rx when you¡¯re in the same room, and I need rest.¡±


    Whoa, that¡¯s a bit harsh. ¡°Vince!¡±


    Mrs. Cesare looks like he just pped her face. Her eyes fill with angry tears, and she walks out of the room followed by a bemused Nicky. I round on him once the door closes.


    ¡°Vince, how could you do that to her?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t fucking start.¡± He settles into his pillows, looking molested.


    I close my mouth as I approach his bed and his arm reaches out for me. He touches my face as I sit down next to him. Then he lets out a long sigh.


    ¡°Damn, I can¡¯t wait until this is over and we can get back to our normal lives.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s normal?¡±


    He smiles. ¡°nning our wedding.¡± He twists a strand of my hair between his fingers, winding it so that I¡¯m forced to lean closer. He lifts his head to kiss me, his lips soft against mine. Fluttering butterflies soar in my stomach as he deepens the kiss. Vince lets out a low, satisfied growl when I pull away.


    ¡°When this thing with Carmine is over, I¡¯m going to take a couple months off. I need a break.¡±


    I suck in breath. ¡°Can you do that?¡±


    He shrugs painfully. ¡°Jack will probably give me a month.¡±


    We both need a break. I just want to have school and the wedding to worry about. I¡¯m not sure how I feel about the Vittorios. Jack¡¯s support was nice, but it would be even nicer if we didn¡¯t have to deal with all this shit anymore.


    Fat chance I¡¯ll ever get him to agree to that.


    ¡°Adriana, get me my jacket.¡± He nods towards the jacket draped over the chair and I take it.


    ¡°Look inside the left jacket pocket.¡±


    ncing at him with a puzzled look, I dive my hand inside and my fingers close around a small box. I pull it out and open it. It¡¯s my ring.


    A wave of emotion suddenly floods my face and I take the shimmering ring in my fingers delicately, sliding it back on. It looks delicate on my finger. Beautiful.


    ¡°I never wanted to give it back.¡± I sniff hard and rotate it in the light. ¡°Thanks for not pawning it.¡±


    He gazes at it wistfully. ¡°I never really gave up on you. I couldn¡¯t.¡±


    He¡¯s the best thing that ever happened to me.


    I lean forward and kiss him again. I¡¯m possessed with an urge to climb into the hospital bed with him, to feel his smoldering touch all over my skin, but then there¡¯s a knock at the door. I wipe my face.


    A small nurse edges inside and walks towards the bed, checking his dressings.


    ¡°When can I get out of this goddamn bed?¡± he asks rudely.


    ¡°We can try getting you a wheelchair, if you like.¡±


    ¡°Yes, please.¡±


    When she returns with the chair, Vince is determined to get out of bed by himself. It¡¯s frustrating to watch him sit up painfully and then slide off the bed. He turns around and sinks into the wheelchair.


    ¡°Much better.¡±


    He grins at me from the chair and I turn away, shaking my head. It surprises me how fast he¡¯s bounced back. The doctor said he got incredibly lucky. Most people need physical therapy, but Vince might not even need that.


    There¡¯s a knock at the door. It opens, revealing a man in a dark blue uniform that makes my stomach do backflips. He steps into the room without waiting to be invited in.


    ¡°Adriana Baldino?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°I have a few questions for you I¡¯d like to ask in private.¡±


    Vince swears and gives him a beady look. ¡°Look, you can talk to herwyer.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll just take five minutes, ma¡¯am.¡±


    I look from him to Vince nervously. ¡°Okay.¡±


    Vince catches my hand. ¡°Come right back.¡± His eyes burn with urgency.


    The officer looks strangely tense as I smile at Vince and join his side. We leave Vince¡¯s room and walk past the waiting room, down a series of empty hallways. My pulse starts to quicken when he stops in front of a door and opens it for me.


    ¡°Get in,¡± he says in a tight voice.


    ¡°Officer, what¡¯s-¡±


    Suddenly, his hand shoves the small of my back and I stumble into the dark, empty room. I wheel around, but the officer closes the door and his back covers the window. I twist the doorknob and m my shoulder into the wall, and then an arm reaches around my throat, yanking me back.


    I scream as I¡¯m pulled into a man¡¯s chest. His palm swallows my scream and I hear his low hiss in my ear.


    ¡°Hello, Adriana. How¡¯s Vince doing?¡±


    Carmine!


    His other hand winds around my waist and holds me snug. I struggle in his grasp, screaming useless words that won¡¯t prate the thick door. He bends my neck backwards painfully, and I feel excruciating pain when I try to lift it.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting to catch you alone, and I¡¯ve finally managed it.¡± He inhales and exhales in my ear. His voice sounds nervous. It makes the hairs on my neck stand up. ¡°I just want you to know that I loved you and that I really regret this.¡±


    ¡°Carmine, no!¡± I scream into his hand.


    I was so worried about what Carmine was up to outside the walls of this hospital that I never imagined he could be a threat to me here.


    His hand ttens my lips. ¡°Shut up.¡± His lips kiss the top of my head. ¡°You chose Vincent over me, even though I could¡¯ve given you everything you wanted. You women are all the fucking same.¡±


    I jab my elbow into his side and he spins me around, mming me into the wall. Carmine looks haggard, his eyes are bloodshot and his clothes-filthy. He looks at me with the same contempt in his eyes before he tried to kill me.


    Defuse the situation.


    ¡°I love him, Carmine. Maybe if I met you first-¡±


    ¡°-You¡¯re a vicious person,¡± he says in a low growl. ¡°I was fine before I met you, but then you went behind my back with Tony to screw me over. How could you agree to do that? To fuck over someone you didn¡¯t even know?¡±


    I flinch from the ugly words hurled at my face. He¡¯s right, but I still can¡¯t spare him any sympathy. There¡¯s just too much violence between us already.


    ¡°Carmine, wouldn¡¯t you do anything for the person you loved? That¡¯s just what I was trying to do. I knew it was wrong, but I did it anyway to save him.¡±


    He ms his fist into the wall next to my head.


    ¡°What¡¯s so fucking special about Vincent?¡± he bellows in my face. ¡°Why can¡¯t you fucking love me like I love you?¡±


    Because you killed my father.


    My voice rises hysterically as I try to save myself. ¡°Carmine, listen. I liked you a lot when I first met you. You were handsome, polite, sensitive-you were a decent guy! I know that if I met you first, I would have dated you. But then you hurt me. You choked me.¡±


    His face creases in pain. ¡°I said I was sorry.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean that I forgave you. Vince never raised a hand against me, and he never will. That¡¯s-that¡¯s why I can¡¯t love you.¡±


    Also, you killed my fucking Dad and I want nothing to do with you.


    Still, he refuses to listen, shaking his head like I¡¯m an irksome fly. ¡°People act out all the time, that doesn¡¯t mean that I-Christ, Adriana! You never even gave us a chance.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not normal,¡± I say in a hushed voice. ¡°It¡¯s never okay to hurt someone you care about. I¡¯m sorry that you grew up to believe that, but it¡¯s wrong.¡±


    Carmine looks down at his feet, tears in his eyes. He looks at me like I¡¯ve hurt him, like I¡¯m the cruel one.


    ¡°Just let me go, and I swear I won¡¯t tell anyone.¡±


    He sniffs hard and lifts his head, a trembling smile on his face. ¡°Let you go? I don¡¯t think so. Good fucking riddance, Adriana.¡±


    His strong hands link around my throat before I can beg him not to. I stamp down hard on his shoes, digging in my heels into his toes. Carmine doesn¡¯t budge. His thumbs press down over myrynx and I¡¯mpletely blocked from air. My heart races with everything I¡¯ll never be able to do.


    ¡°Just rx, Adriana.¡±


    Fuck you. I won¡¯t give up!


    But even if my mind won¡¯t give up, my body is. My muscles scream for oxygen. I tear at his fingers desperately, gouging them with my nails, but he won¡¯t let go. Carmine¡¯s face streams with tears. He looks like he regrets it already.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    I sink down to the floor, my legs giving out. Carmine follows me. My hands are limp and nothing really seems to matter anymore.


    Vince! Help.


    Even the voice in my head is faint. Carmine¡¯s lips move and I don¡¯t hear anything. All I feel is an excruciating burning in my lungs. My skin tingles and my face touches the cool tiles.


    At least I¡¯ll get to see Dad.


    The door bursts open and several pairs of legs walk inside. The stifling grip around my throat ckens, and a sliver of oxygen makes its way into my lungs. Blood churns behind my ears as I gasp like a fish onnd. Sound returns to my ears as I turn on my back.


    Carmine flies against the wall as a tall, lean man wearing spectacles-a man I recognize as Paulie, shoves him hard. There are two others standing in the room: Vince and Nicky. The shorter man forces Carmine to kneel and takes his hands behind his back.


    Vince is like an angry god, standing tall as if nothing happened to him, screaming something unintelligible as he swings his good arm, smashing his fist against Carmine¡¯s face. Pain crushes both of their faces.


    ¡°FUCK YOU! FUCK YOUR MOTHER!¡±


    His head rips to the side, blood spraying across the room. Paulie and Nicky jerk him back upright so that Vince can hit him again and again and again. Sickening, meat-like smacks fill the room, and I see blood blossoming over the gauze on Vincent¡¯s chest. Then Paulie walks around and tries to stop him.


    ¡°You fucked up your stitches,¡± he says in an even voice. ¡°Let me take over.¡±


    ¡°Vince!¡± I manage to croak out his name.


    Carmine¡¯s face is a bloody mess-unrecognizable. He drops to the floor like a stone and Nicky kicks his side savagely, his little face lit with malice. At the sound of my voice, Vince immediately drops to my side, his hands shaking. There¡¯s blood all over his chest and shoulder. It looks like he destroyed his wounds.


    ¡°Breathe, Adriana. Just breathe.¡±

 2-37

    I don¡¯t know if I can ever breathe easily again.


    Wrapped up in Vincent¡¯sforter, I shiver and wish I had a stiff drink. Something to ease the pain. Something to make me forget.


    Even though he¡¯s in maximum-security prison, I still wake up with the sound of his voice in my ear, his fingers around my throat. He fractured the cartge around my throat. It¡¯s hard to swallow anything and I can¡¯t be in the dark alone.


    Weekster, Vince is on the mend and I¡¯m stuck in hell. Worse is the way he looks at me, like I¡¯m a fragile ss doll.


    He stoops in front of me, his eyes wide and dark. ¡°Adriana.¡±


    Careful fingers peel away theforter and he strokes my side. His eyes grieve for me. He doesn¡¯t understand what it¡¯s like to feel like every shadow might be someone who wants to kill me.


    ¡°Jesus,¡± he says, looking at the horrific bruises on my neck. Rage simmers in his eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Adriana. He may be in prison, but he won¡¯t be alive for very long.¡±


    I don¡¯t even want to know.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to watch over me every day. I know you have stuff to do.¡±


    His eyes crease. ¡°Ade, I¡¯m not leaving you alone. Not when you¡¯re like this.¡± Vince bends over and nts a kiss on my head. ¡°Now, get up. I¡¯ve a surprise for you.¡± He smiles when I swing my legs over reluctantly. Then he grabs my hands and pulls me up. Taking the silk scarf from my nightstand, he carefully wraps it around my neck and brings me out of the bedroom. In the living room, I see a woman sitting on the grey couch with her legs crossed. Her wave of highlighted hair sweeps over her shoulders as she turns to look at me.


    ¡°Adriana!¡±


    It¡¯s Maria.


    ¡°I thought you could use your best friend,¡± he says in a low voice.


    She stands up, beaming at Vince and I. A lump rises in my throat when I see her smile, and I realize how much I¡¯ve missed her. Before he can step away, I give him a kiss on his cheek.


    ¡°Thanks.¡±


    ¡°No problem, hon.¡±


    Then I run across the room and join her on the couch. A spread of wedding magazinesys on the coffee table and Maria nearly chokes me in a hug.


    ¡°Hey, sweetie. Long time no see.¡±


    My throat constricts and I choke out a sob. I don¡¯t know why it feels so good to be holding her. Maybe she reminds me that everything has finally calmed down. I can finally hang out with my best friend like a normal person, and not have to worry about being shot.


    ¡°Vince told me that you¡¯ve been through a lot.¡±


    I inhale a shaky gasp. ¡°Being away from him was the worst time of my life. They made me-¡± I stop suddenly, aware that I¡¯m not supposed to talk about this with anyone. My arms squeeze her sides before I finally unwind myself from her.


    ¡°I think everything might be fine now.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± Maria bites her pink lip, eyes all over my face. I¡¯m sure the bruises are visible through the scarf.


    ¡°I just need to heal from everything that happened.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t have to talk about it, hon.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± I give her a watery smile.


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what we do have to talk about!¡± She motions towards the many wedding magazines.


    ¡°You never stop, do you?¡±


    She gives me an excited grin. ¡°I love weddings.¡± She palms through the pile. ¡°Okay, we need to look through these cause we are way behind schedule. God, just look at this.¡±


    I love her for being able to drop something like this and carry on like it¡¯s no big deal. She picks one of them and shows me the table arrangement spread and I look to my left. Vincent stands there for a moment, smiling, and then he disappears into his office.


    * * *


    A sea of shifting turquoise and deep blue stretches out to the pink horizon. I stand on a tiled balcony, which lifts above the cluster of brightly colored homes, clustered behind bright green cliffs. Endless rows of green grapevines wind around the cliffs and I breathe in the citrus air. Lemon trees surround the small hotel.


    It¡¯s incredible.


    I hear his footsteps behind me and suddenly an arm snakes around my waist. I¡¯m wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts, and the movement sends sparks all over my skin. His mouth finds my ear.


    ¡°What are you doing up so early?¡±


    I smile. He never misses a thing.


    ¡°I just couldn¡¯t sleep.¡±


    He nips at my ear as his hands travel over my body. ¡°I¡¯m surprised,¡± he says in a husky voice. ¡°After what we didst night.¡±


    It¡¯s strange and incredible to be with him out here, all the way in Italy. Here, he¡¯s not a mobster. Here, he¡¯s just Vincent. My husband.


    A flush blooms over my cheeks as he wipes the hair from my face and kisses me. ¡°I don¡¯t want to go back.¡±


    He sighs into my back. ¡°I know.¡±


    I turn around in his arms, unable to ignore the desire heating my core any longer. His hands move down my back, over my bare ass, which is still sore fromst night. My hand runs over the ugly scars on his chest and shoulder, a horrible weight sinking inside me.


    Vince snatches my hand and pulls me close to him, a dangerous glint in his eyes. ¡°You¡¯re doing it again.¡±


    I can¡¯t help it.


    ¡°Sometimes, I just think, maybe-¡±


    Maybe we should go into witness protection.


    ¡°No.¡± The roughness returns to his voice. ¡°Don¡¯t even think about it, Adriana. Especially now that we¡¯re married. I¡¯m always going to be who I am. Why can¡¯t you understand that?¡±


    My heart thumps as he pulls me back inside the room, pinning me gently against the wall. I just feel his hands running up and down my neck. ¡°I-I just want us to be safe.¡±


    His eyes soften. ¡°I love you, Ade. I¡¯ll always keep you safe. Always.¡±


    I love him, too.


    He taps my nose lightly. ¡°You¡¯re my wife now. I don¡¯t want to hear you mention that again, or you¡¯ll get my hand against your sweet ass.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t tell me what to do.¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes. I can.¡± A smile spreads over his face. ¡°And things are going to change around the house. If you haven¡¯t made dinner by five o¡¯ clock every night, guess what¡¯ll happen?¡±


    His fingers gouge into my ass, twisting hard.


    My core tightens as his hand grabs me. ¡°I¡¯m not a mob wife. You can fix your own goddamn meals.¡±


    Vince lets out augh that he barely covers up with a growl. ¡°You did not just fucking say that.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I did.¡±


    He grabs me, spinning me around so fast that I shriek, and suddenly I¡¯m ttened on the bed as Vincent climbs over me, eyes teeming with energy.


    ¡°You will behave as is expected of you. Not because you fear punishment, but because you love me and you¡¯ll do anything for me.¡±


    Warm hands suddenly slide under my t-shirt, touching my bare stomach. I suck in breath as he moves higher, right to the curve of my breasts. Usually light fingers, he moves over the swell, circling around my nipple. I gasp and my core clenches tightly, electricity spreading over my skin.


    My pulse throbs in my throat as a slow smile spreads over his face. He knows exactly what he¡¯s doing to me. He can feel my heart racing under my breast. I look into his eyes, which smolder at me.


    ¡°You¡¯re the best thing that happened to me, Vince. I would do anything.¡±


    His eyes harden like ck marble. The monster shifts in front of my eyes, wearing his sardonic grin. ¡°Anything?¡±


    Yes, dammit.


    I keep my mouth firmly shut, tired of ying this game. My hands lift to his silky hair and I yank him down, so my lips fasten over his. His body weighs down over mine, his hardness digging into my hips. It sends a shock to my pussy. His hand slides between my legs and he feels the wetness gathered there. Tsking, he kisses my neck and pulls himself back.


    Frustrated, Iy beneath him. I badly want my sweet Vince, but instead I have him. The other Vince, who excites and terrifies me, the bloodthirsty man who wants to hear my cries of pain. His palm wraps around my jaw, his fingers pping my cheeks lightly. My blood rages.


    ¡°Don¡¯t look at me like that.¡±


    ¡°I love every part of you. I just sometimes want you to be gentle.¡±


    He sits on me, his fingers brushing over my breasts to my fragile neck. It still hurts to swallow. His expression unreadable, I help him lower his briefs until he¡¯s freed. I grab him in my hands, the thick, warm length hardening in my grasp. The turmoil in his eyes builds up and then I let go of him. He lowers himself between my legs. The anticipation ramps up in my belly, my legs hitch up to his shoulders. He¡¯s holding back with every ounce of self-restraint. Vince does it for me because he loves me, and I need this.


    Even when Vince is trying to be soft, he shoves between my legs with one swift stroke. I gasp as I feel every inch of him sliding deeper and filling me uppletely. He buries himself to the hilt and his face trembles above me with the effort of not rutting me like a madman, or pping, spanking, and pulling my hair. Vince pulls out torturously and buries himself back in.


    ¡°Faster, Vince.¡±


    He obeys, his hips riding me at a quicker pace. He breathes deeply and his hands anchor on my shoulders, pulling me against his thrusts. We¡¯ve never done vani. It¡¯s different. It feels slow and sensual. I feel safe. My hands twine in his hair and then they move to his muscr shoulders and back. I love every part of him.


    His throbbing length rides against my clit, giving me eye-rolling pleasure. I yank his head down and seek his parted lips, kissing him with a frenzy that makes him dig into me just a little bit harder.


    I touch his face, which is screwed up in concentration. The monster rustles behind his eyes impatiently, but Vince shoves him aside. Frustration and love shines through his eyes as he looks down at me. He¡¯d do anything for me. Vince lowers himself, and he makes sounds that I¡¯ve never heard before-deep-throated gasps and sighs. Our lips meet while he thrusts forward. We kiss, gasping together as our bodies join. His hand snakes under my head and he yanks my hair, unable to fend off the monster any longer. My body ms into the bed as he fist pulls hard, nearly tearing out my hair. An impatient, growling noise leaves his throat and he rams me hard.


    I tighten my core, biting his shoulder as the pain in my hair intensifies. Vince can¡¯t slow down, his breaths have that familiar, urgent quality and mine are just as frantic. I feel him pulsing inside me, and then finally he lets out a guttural groan and his hips thrust hard into me. I fall apart in his arms and his hand is still tight in my hair as his chest heaves against my breasts. His hips pulse a few more times as my body explodes. My back arches as my pussy contracts around him, releasing a wave of pleasure that makes me sink into the sheets.


    Vince kisses my neck over and over, still breathing heavily. My hands move from his damp back to the back of his neck. He pulls back, looking at me under heavily lidded eyes. He wears a satisfied, sleepy smile on his face and kisses me on the nose.N?vel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.


    ¡°I love you, Vince. I can¡¯t believe that I get to keep you forever.¡±


    He smiles at that and rolls over so that his head lies on the pillow. I turn towards him and his arm wraps around my waist, pulling me close.


    ¡°I get to keep you. You¡¯re just along for the ride.¡±


    ¡°One day that smart mouth will get you in trouble.¡±


    His eyes light up like a hound scenting prey. ¡°Oh, yeah?¡± He rolls back over me and takes my arms, pinning them above my head with one hand. The other trails softly down my neck and chest. ¡°What kind of trouble?¡±


    I can¡¯t think when he¡¯s touching me like that. My skin heats up and my wrists twist in his grasp. Suddenly, he drops down and gives me a tender kiss, one that makes me want more.


    He lets my arms go, stroking my cheek with a thumb. Suddenly, his voice is serious. ¡°I don¡¯t think I would¡¯ve lived very long if I hadn¡¯t met you. I owe you everything, Adriana.¡±


    Tears spring into my eyes. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°I was a careless guy. I would¡¯ve been killed eventually. I know that.¡±


    I can¡¯t say anything. I¡¯m stunned to hear him admit this.


    ¡°When I met you, I started caring about the future. I started to feel¡­afraid.¡± He looks away, almost as if embarrassed by the admission that he was scared of gunshots and knives aimed at himself. ¡°You make me want to be a better man.¡±


    He brings me into his chest as happy tears spill from my eyes. I look over his shoulder, to the bright sunshine now streaming into our room. It fills me up with hope.

 2-38

    VINCENT


    The city sprawls out underneath me. The delivery trucks move to and from their destinations like the micro machines I used to y with as a boy. It used to puzzle me. To enthrall me. How could so many people live in such a small ce?


    Before, I didn¡¯t understand that the city was mine. With the Rizzos gone, I¡¯m staking out my im. Anyone who has business with me knows to be on time, or I¡¯ll break their fucking legs. Anyone who so much as sneers at me loses their teeth. I will not allow anything like the Rizzos to happen again, and this is how you do it.


    Jack promoted me to underboss. I get a cut from all the capos, now. No more running bullshit errands-I spend most of my time making phone calls. The feds are watching us so closely, he sends me out to give his orders. I¡¯ll deal directly with the other bosses until the heat cools on our backs.


    Fucking Carmine.


    Last I heard, he was trying to give orders from his jail cell.


    Just because you shot Tony Rizzo, don¡¯t make you Tony Rizzo.


    I slip a phone out of my pocket, my thumb hovering over a name. Looking around, I don¡¯t see my wife. She¡¯s finally happy again, but there¡¯s still an undercurrent of sadness in her eyes. There¡¯s still the fact that that piece of human filth killed her father, and her mother is gone, too.


    But I can bring her back. I could tell her that the Rizzos are gone. It¡¯s safe for her.


    Jack won¡¯t like it.


    I y with it in my hands, debating, deciding. She wants her mother back, I know it, and I can¡¯t forget the way she begged me to take care of her daughter.


    Finally, I open the phone and click on her name. It rings three times before she picks up.


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s me. Vincent.¡±


    She sucks in breath. ¡°You told me you would never call unless-¡±


    ¡°Adriana¡¯s fine. We actually-we¡¯re married.¡±


    A moment of stunned silence follows my words.


    ¡°Congrattions.¡± There¡¯s another beat of silence. ¡°Can I talk to her, please?¡±


    I shut my eyes against the pain in her voice. ¡°Listen, I called because something changed. It¡¯s safe for you toe back to New York, if you want.¡±


    ¡°What? Are you sure?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m sure. Come home and visit your daughter. I know she misses you.¡±


    I hold the phone away from my ear as she breaks into sobs.N?vel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.


    ¡°Thank you. Oh, Vince, that¡¯s all I wanted-¡±


    Shut up.


    ¡°I still haven¡¯t forgotten what you tried to do to me. Our prior conditions still apply. No begging her for money. Your debts with the Rizzos are done.¡±


    ¡°I just want to see my daughter again.¡±


    ¡°You will. I¡¯ll see youter. Goodbye.¡±


    I close my eyes for a moment as I end the call, wondering if I¡¯ve made a huge mistake. When I open them, I hear a noise. Crying.


    Adriana stands behind me, holding her hands to her face as tears stream down her face. ¡°You called my mom?¡±


    Ah, shit.


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    She lunges at me and throws her arms around my neck, sobbing into my shoulder. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you¡¯d do that for me.¡±


    I sigh into her body, my arms wrapping around her waist. My heart clenches and releases. I¡¯m just so relieved that it was the right decision. ¡°I¡¯m your husband. Of course, I would.¡±


    Her burning face pulls back and she seizes my hair. ¡°I love you so fucking much.¡±


    She kisses me with a ferocity that surprises me and simultaneously makes my pants feel tight. My arms loop around her and I pick her up, cing her against the ss as her legs wind around me. She nearly yanks my hair out as she kisses me, but I respond just as passionately. My heart hammers against my chest. She moans into my mouth as I seize her lips and bite them.


    ¡°You fucking better.¡±

 Book 3 chapter 1

    MARISA


    The inside of Joe¡¯s apartment is fucking freezing. I don¡¯t know whether he keeps it low because he¡¯s some goddamn demon who needs it at a precise temperature because otherwise he¡¯llbust into mes, or whether he¡¯s doing it to get to me.


    I¡¯m a prisoner. I¡¯m his. That¡¯s what he keeps saying to me in the dark, his low, gritty voice making my skin tingle as his lips whisper against my ear. His arm wraps around my naked stomach and pulls my body into his chest and his warmth engulfs me like a bath. The front of my body still feels the sting of cold until his zing fingers travel up my stomach and tease the curve of my breasts. I shiver and arch against him as pleasure clenches inside me.


    His lowugh reverberates in my ear. ¡°See, Marisa? Your body knows it¡¯s mine.¡±


    I want to strangle him, except I can¡¯t because I¡¯m handcuffed behind my back. Yeah, that¡¯s right. I¡¯m handcuffed, and he¡¯s taking full advantage.


    The logical, angry part of me wants to fight him. Wants to escape. Not just for self-preservation, but out of pride.


    ¡°What you¡¯re doing is wrong.¡±


    I wince at the sound of my words. They¡¯re so childish.


    ¡°God, I know, but it doesn¡¯t feel like it. Does it?¡±


    Another moan hisses through my teeth. He grabs my left breast and squeezes, and then his thumb makes a circle around my nipple, teasing the sensitive flesh. I turn in his arms with some difficulty. He¡¯s still gorgeous. That smile he gives me looks more seductive in the low light, but I can¡¯t deny he scares me. The handcuffs around my wrists aren¡¯t a joke, even if he finds them hot.


    ¡°Joe¡­what¡¯ll happen to me?¡±


    The question shakes out of my throat, but he doesn¡¯t stop smiling. He has me exactly where he wants me. Joe pulls me closer until my leg is forced over his thigh, and I can feel the heat of him all around me. It makes me dizzy. His finger runs along my jaw and forces my face to meet his lips, which ze against mine. I forget about my question and respond back hungrily, my breasts flush against his chest.


    I want him.


    I want him and I can¡¯t help it.


    He always does this. He deflects the serious questions, makes me forget, and distracts me with his tongue. When it¡¯s over and he¡¯s panting in my neck, buried inside me so deep I can feel every twitch-then the questionse back.


    What will they do to me? Am I safe?


    But I have no courage to ask him.


    3 MONTHS EARLIER


    Pink rhinoceros slippers with yellow teeth smile at me from the coffee table as I bob them back and forth. In my head, there¡¯s an inner monologue of them talking to each other. It goes something like this:


    Hello, Mr. Rhinoceros! How¡¯re you today?


    (In a British ent) Oh, I¡¯m doing well. *Grumble grumble*


    Whatever is the matter?


    I¡¯ve a toothache!


    I can help you with that, old sport. Open your mouth.


    No! Unhand me!


    Pipe down. This¡¯ll only take a minute.


    I don¡¯t think you¡¯re qualified for this!


    Oh, shut up!


    Don¡¯t touch me!


    I mouth the words as I flex my slippers,ughing to myself as the voices get more and more high-pitched and stereotypically British. The sound of someone clearing her throat snaps me out of my bliss and I gaze over the coffee table.


    Jessica gives me a snide look over the arm of her chair that I ignore.


    ¡°Oh my God, Marisa. Those slippers make me want to vomit.¡±


    I give her a sharp look. ¡°They¡¯re cute. You used to love Randy.¡±


    ¡°Used to.¡± She rolls her eyes, turning her head back to the television. ¡°I¡¯m embarrassed for you.¡±


    Man, when did she lose her sense of humor? Part of me feels a sharp sense of loss. My sister and I used to be best friends. I was her hero-the big sister. She copied everything I did, and I looked out for her. We both loved that stupid rhino kid show. It¡¯s the one childish thing I still cling to.


    Okay, maybe not the only one.


    Dad and I still watch Merrie Melodies cartoons on Sunday. It was a tradition that started when I was seven. My hand grabs the ss of wine sitting at my left, and I suddenly feel self-conscious and ridiculous.


    I loved that goddamn rhino. Growing up, I had stuffed animals, bedsheets, and underwear, everything-the whole nine yards. There was somethingforting about that big, pink costume. I¡¯m twenty-seven.


    Enough already.


    My mother¡¯s voice echoes inside my head. Jessica definitely took after her, even when Dad raised us after the divorce.


    ¡°You better not let Nathan see those slippers,¡± she says with her back turned to me, her eyes focused on the TV screen.


    My childish glee from ying with my slippers fades like the memory of a dream, bing hazier by the second. Just the thought of my older brother makes my insides squirm. It¡¯s not that we don¡¯t get along. We get along fine now that we¡¯re older, but when we were young, Nathan¡¯s face haunted my nightmares and whenever I¡¯d see him, I¡¯d flinch. It¡¯s just hard to forgive him for the things he¡¯s done. I haven¡¯t, really. I just y along and pretend for Dad¡¯s sake.


    ¡°I mean, that¡¯s probably why you don¡¯t have a boyfriend.¡±


    Actually, it¡¯s more because Nathan always scared them away.


    The few times I introduced guys to the family, Nathan would pull them aside and have a talk with them, and then I never saw them again. Nathan would look on stoically as my face streamed with tears and I screamed until I was hoarse in the throat.


    ¡°He wasn¡¯t right for you, Marisa. I had to run him off.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s my decision, not yours!¡±


    Dad always cut in before anything serious happened. He¡¯d reprimand Nathan and tell me quietly to be patient with my brother, assuring me that he only loved me and wanted to protect me.


    I want to decide who¡¯s right for me, thanks.


    I really hated him for that, but I chose to maintain a rtionship with him for Dad. Plus, the family business needed me, and I needed to get along with Nathan if I wanted to help with it.


    It¡¯s not like I have time for dating. Ever since I graduated to join Nathan in the family business, I haven¡¯t had time for myself. One day I will. I¡¯ll slow down and take my time, but first I have to learn the ropes, and that means going to work every single day. Saturdays. Sundays. Holidays. New York City never sleeps, and neither does the Worlds Casino, which Dad owns.


    ¡°It¡¯s not like I¡¯d wear these on a date.¡±


    ¡°Pssh.¡±


    The right slipper falls with a soft thud and I let the other one fall, too. Dad walks into the living room, along with Nathan, whose eyes immediately narrow at the slippers beneath my feet. Great. That¡¯s all I need-an excuse for Nathan to call into question my maturity and somehow link that to my inadequacy to work at Worlds Casino.


    ¡°Kids, dinner¡¯s ready.¡±


    Screw you, brother.


    I slip them back onto my feet, abandoning the ck pumps I wear to Sunday dinner, and join them in the dining hall. Dad gives me a wicked grin when he sees the colorful slippers. The dining table is long and huge, even though there are only four of us. I take my ce at Dad¡¯s left as his personal chef asks me if I would like another ss of wine.


    ¡°Sure.¡±


    Nathan looks up from his te, smirking. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t you prefer chocte milk?¡±


    Ass.


    ¡°Nathaniel, stop it,¡± Dad says in a weary voice. His veined hands sp together and he bends his face into them.


    rmed, I ce a hand on his shoulder. ¡°Dad, are you all right?¡±


    He lifts up his face and nods, looking paler than usual. ¡°I¡¯m just a little out of sorts today.¡±


    After dinner is over I linger at his house for the longest and rece my slippers with my ck pumps. Hesitating, I tuck the slippers into my purse and give Dad a hug goodbye.


    ¡°Bye, dear. Call me when you get home.¡±


    ¡°I will.¡±


    When I pull away, I notice how tired he looks under the harsh lights in the foyer. Long shadows run down his face, giving me a chill as I leave the house and make the long drive toward Manhattan. My mind is in a fog as I lean in the elevator, clutching the slippers close to my chest.


    Dad is getting older.N?vel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.


    He¡¯s only sixty, but the lines in his face are carving deeper. He¡¯s lost that shine of youth. His eyes are duller, there¡¯s less pep in his step, and he looks tired.


    It scares me.


    I toss the slippers in the living room and give Dad a call to tell him I¡¯ve arrived. He doesn¡¯t pick up.


    ¡°Weird.¡±


    I slump down on my couch, tired as hell but not ready to go to bed yet. Everything in this apartment looks so polished. Not a Tinkerbell poster or stuffed animal in sight. It¡¯s strangely devoid of personal effects, like a staged home, or a spread in Martha Stewart Living. It doesn¡¯t feel like home yet. The bright-pink slippers sit under my coffee table, horribly shing with the decor. I slip my feet inside them immediately, reveling in their warmth andfort.


    Maybe I¡¯ll watch a Disney movie. I haven¡¯t in ages.


    The phone rings beside me and I pick it up immediately, assuming it¡¯s Dad. It¡¯s not.


    Nathan¡¯s anxious voice crackles through the speaker, filling me with white-hot fear, because he is never scared.


    ¡°Marisa, it¡¯s Dad. He¡¯s in the hospital. The chef found him passed out on the floor in the kitchen.¡±


    ¡°What? We just saw him! Are you sure?¡±


    ¡°Yes, goddamn it! Get over here, now!¡±

 3-2

    Keep calm.


    That¡¯s what I tell myself, over and over, as his gray hand lies limp in mine and his chest rises and falls with a horrible rattling sound that makes my blood race. My thumb runs over and over the protruding veins on his hand, one that I know very well. How many times did he catch me when I tried to run across the street?This text is ? N?velDrama/.Org.


    Slow down, Marisa! You¡¯re going to get hit by a car.


    A watery smile spreads over my face when I think about how he used to chase me around.


    Now he¡¯s confined to this bed with a million tubes feeding his body with drugs. My eyes wander over him to the white walls.


    Nathan leans against the wall in the hospital room, watching me, his eyes curiously dry. Finding nofort in my brother¡¯s gaze, I turn back toward my father¡¯s face. He looks, or at least I think he does, at the ceiling. He looks from side to side, searching or scanning for something, his dry lips murmuring nonsense.


    ¡°Dad?¡± I whisper. ¡°Can you hear me?¡±


    I lean closely over the hospital bed as I ask him for the thousandth time. I¡¯m desperate just to hear something from him: a grunt, an insult, anything that would indicate he isn¡¯t beyond our reach. But he already is.


    Dad¡¯s dying.


    It hits me like a sharp p to my face. My face and eyes burn, but I swallow the tears down. Tears won¡¯t help Dad.


    Hell, nothing will.


    Even if I spent all the money in the world to pay for the best doctors and the most advanced treatments, I still wouldn¡¯t be able to stop the inevitable. Death: the universal equalizer.


    ¡°You know he can¡¯t hear you.¡±


    Nathan¡¯s arrogant voice digs into my brain and I raise my head to re at him, hating him. He never cared about Dad. He hasn¡¯t shown an iota of remorse that our dad is dying this entire week. What¡¯s wrong with him?


    He looks away from my stare. ¡°Sorry.¡±


    How many times have I heard that from him?


    Slipping my hand from Dad¡¯s, I stand up and decide to make a brief trip to the cafeteria. I haven¡¯t eaten in-I don¡¯t know how long. The phone in my purse vibrates in a constant murmur-Dad¡¯s associates wondering what the hell happened to their CEO. Nathan¡¯s rings silently, too. They have questions I have no interest in answering. I¡¯m just trying to be there for my dad. He¡¯s all I care about right now.


    I sweep past my brother without a word, but he shifts and I hear him following me out the door.


    ¡°Marisa, wait-¡±


    He grabs my arm and makes me halt in my tracks. The tight grip on my wrist forces me to look into Nathan¡¯s icy eyes.


    ¡°He¡¯s my dad, too. I don¡¯t understand why you treat me like I¡¯m some kind of viper.¡±


    Because you are.


    The countless lies he sang into my parents¡¯ ears, and how in family photographs he used to pinch my sides so roughly that tears would stream down my face, and the countless times he med me for something he did run through my head. Jessica and I learned to fear our brother at an early age. He was prone to violence, but he was smart-he never left a mark. I just wanted us to get along. We were a family, after all. It¡¯s important to get along with your family, no matter how awful they can be.


    He mellowed out in his twenties and became one of the most sessful men I know. When I think about my brother, I can¡¯t help but feel a mixture of gut-wrenching fear and awe.


    Sure, he was a bastard when he was younger, but he isn¡¯t anymore. I don¡¯t know why I can¡¯t let it go. It just still stings, even after all these years.


    ¡°When I-if I get thepany, I¡¯ll make sure you and Jess get a fair share.¡±


    Jessica isn¡¯t here. She decided that her time was better off spent getting a mani-pedi, and she¡¯d booked it ages ago.


    At least Nathan¡¯s with me.


    If only I could look at him and see the handsome, polite, capable man everyone says he is and not the cruel boy who taped my pet frog to a stick and beat it to death against a tree because I used one of his favorite CDs. He used to p Jessica¡¯s face when she was a toddler. All of that rage-it didn¡¯t go anywhere. It¡¯s just hidden inside him. Everybody hides their demons. Buried feelings wrestle inside me.


    That was a long time ago. He apologized. All of these feelings are just getting in the way of mending things with him.


    Dad hated it when we argued. He said it made us look like a dysfunctional family. Sometimes I med myself for not letting go, because a lot of the fights were my fault. Because I was still angry. Even though I said I forgave him, I never really did. More than anything, I¡¯d like to never have to deal with him again, but then an angry voice creeps in my head. It¡¯s not good to fight with family. You have to put up with them, because they¡¯re blood.


    I have to stick it out because Dad needs me.


    My hand slides out of his grasp. ¡°You think that¡¯s what¡¯s bothering me? Our father is dying.¡±


    His finely shaped eyebrows pinch together. ¡°Marisa, I¡¯m not a monster. Dad owns a hugepany. He¡¯s been away for a week and there are probably thousands of things that require his attention right now. You and I will have to pick up the ck.¡±


    Nathan and I, running Dad¡¯spany?


    ¡°I don¡¯t even want to think about it.¡±


    My voice shakes and he slides an arm around my shoulders, and I curl into his chest. He wraps his arms around me and I cry, finally sumbing to tears. Nathan changed when he got older. He¡¯s different. He became the protective, slightly possessive older brother who I looked up to. He helped me learn the ins and outs of the casino business, and introduced me to Dad¡¯s associates.


    ¡°We¡¯ll be fine, Marisa.¡±


    His soothing voice burrows in my chest, giving mefort, even if it¡¯s not the kind offort I seek.


    What about Dad?


    Dad won¡¯t be fine ever again.


    * * *


    After bolting down a dry muffin and searing hot coffee that burned my throat on the way down, I head back towards Dad¡¯s room. The white walls burn as I pass by, the equally bright, polished tiles underneath my feet bouncing all the light from the ceiling into my eyes.


    I step inside an elevator and smash the fourth floor button. The stainless steel reflects my haggard reflection.


    Code blue. Fourth floor. Code blue.


    The cold, female voice barely registers in my head when the doors ping open to the fourth floor. My coffee still burns my hand. I¡¯m hoping that the strong smell might rouse my father. He always had to have his coffee in the morning or he wouldin of migraine headaches. I step out of the elevator to a smallmotion. Doctors in white coats and nurses in scrubs hurtle down the hallway inside a room. The same room Dad¡¯s in.


    A cold feeling grips my heart like an icy hand reaching in between my ribs. I toss the coffee inside a garbage can as panic slowly rises in my throat like vomit. Sprinting down the hallway, I hear raised voicesing from the hospital room and Nathan stands outside. He gives me a wide, anxious look.


    ¡°Marisa, he¡¯s-¡±


    Something¡¯s wrong. I look inside the room, and the doctors seem strangely still. It¡¯s like they¡¯ve given up.


    ¡°Time of death-¡±


    ¡°NO!¡± I elbow my way inside, heart hammering when I look at the tubes shoved down Dad¡¯s throat. How dare they give up on him so easily? Don¡¯t they understand? Don¡¯t they realize how important this man is? ¡°Try again!¡±


    ¡°Ma¡¯am, you need to leave the room.¡±


    A doctor wearing a surgical mask addresses me sternly. I scan the group of indifferent nurses and doctors and feel a surge of loathing. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare give up on him! He¡¯s donated tens of thousands of dors to this hospital. You owe him.¡± Tears silently fill my eyes. ¡°Please!¡±


    I can¡¯t look at my dad. I can¡¯t see the way his cheeks have already sunken in and feel how cold his hand has gotten. It¡¯s like dry ice.


    ¡°Ma¡¯am, please. We tried everything we could-¡±


    ¡°No, you didn¡¯t!¡± I scream so loudly that the walls seem to tremble. ¡°He just needs a little bit more time, for God¡¯s sake. Can¡¯t you just-Nathan, help me!¡±


    My brother squeezes through, his eyes narrowing at me. He grips my shoulders and pulls me away from the bed, away from Dad. ¡°Marisa, it¡¯s over.¡±


    I fight him, shoving his chest away from me. ¡°Shut up. No, it¡¯s not. You¡¯re just-¡±


    ¡°Marisa!¡± he bellows in my face. ¡°He¡¯s gone. He¡¯s gone.¡±


    Blue eyes cut into mine, the razor sharp rity slicing inside me. My heart beats heavily, as though it throbs with a knife stuck inside.


    He¡¯s gone.


    Dad¡¯s bare feet have a bluish tinge and his face is sunken in like parchment paper draped over a skull.


    Oh, Jesus. My Dad-my rock. He¡¯s gone. Gone.


    How could this happen? People recover from strokes all the time, and Dad had the best doctors looking after him. I made sure of that. I called in every favor I had and pulled strings to get the best. Even the best wasn¡¯t enough.


    ¡°Time of death, 6:32 am.¡±


    Nathan holds me tightly. He¡¯s the only man left in the world-the closest thing to my father. Dad! I want to scream. Don¡¯t go! Don¡¯t leave me!


    I can¡¯t do this without him.

 3-3

    How the hell did I get here?


    I¡¯m in arge, empty room that smells dusty. Faded purple carpet covers the floor and nd walls don¡¯t really make me think of death so much as a nursing home stuck in the 80¡¯s. Men in suits mingle in the room, clutching their styrofoam cups of coffee as my brother and I stand sentry near Dad¡¯s casket.


    Funeral homes never really made sense to me. Why am I paying for a giant, empty room with shabby decor reminiscent of a few decades ago? What¡¯s with that, anyway? Why do they always look so dated? There¡¯s nothing to do except talk, and if you get hungry, too bad. There¡¯s onlyplimentary coffee, and the crappy kind that stays in those metal tubes for hours. And that¡¯s not even in the room, probably because there¡¯s some kind of ridiculousw forbidding the distribution of food in the same area as a dead person.


    Dead person.


    I can¡¯t even bear to look at the solid form resting inside the white pillows. His face looks nothing like him, but at least there are photographs everywhere. Giant wreaths of flowers above his casket make my nose itch. Somehow, that makes me want tough.


    What¡¯s wrong with me?


    Days ago, we were all working at the same job together. Dad was talking about making some renovations at the casino, which Nathan and I opposed because we were in the slow season. Jessica was doing whatever the hell she does all day at her apartment. I argued with my dad about something small, something stupid-how exactly to cook a perfect medium rare steak. Dad cooked them on the pan, when I liked to finish them in the oven. We had a big argument about it. Both of us are so goddamn stubborn. I know I got it from him. I¡¯ve no idea what I got from Mom; she¡¯s basically a stranger to me.


    All of this runs through my mind, and I search frantically through it to grasp something that will make me say, ¡°A-ha! This can¡¯t be real!¡±


    I¡¯m not sad.


    I¡¯m in denial.


    A man I have never seen before extends his arm to me as I stand beside my father¡¯s open casket.


    ¡°So sorry for your loss,¡± he says.


    I¡¯ve heard at least a dozen different versions of this in the past few hours. The corners of my lips pull upwards painfully.


    ¡°Thank you foring.¡±


    Beside me, I hear Nathan uttering the same words as we greet business associate after business associate. Heat rises to my chest like tiny, hot needles pricking my sensitive skin.


    I didn¡¯t fucking want them here. Nathan and I argued about it.


    ¡°Some of them are shareholders in thepany-members of the board! Are you fucking crazy? Do you know how insulting it would be if you told them they couldn¡¯te to the funeral?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care!¡± I screamed back. ¡°I don¡¯t want to turn Dad¡¯s funeral into a schmooze fest. For fuck¡¯s sake, it¡¯s a private affair. They don¡¯t need toe.¡±


    We screamed at each other until we were hoarse. Finally, we came to apromise. The burial would be private, with only family members and a select few others. Everyone else would be allowed to attend the wake and ceremony.


    So it¡¯s two days of this.


    Two days of standing up for hours in ufortable clothing and heels and pretending to care that the people who worked with Dad are at his wake, while they pretend to care about his death. They¡¯re people whose names I forget almost the instant I shake their hands.


    Dad wouldn¡¯t want me to be like this. The casino was everything to him.


    I swallow hard as a venerable man in cks approaches. I recognize him as one of the board members of Worlds Casino. Mr. ckwell¡¯s lined face nces inside the coffin briefly and he pats the coffin.


    ¡°Poor Dominic,¡± he shakes his head sadly. ¡°None of us saw thising. I¡¯m so sorry.¡±


    I heave a long sigh. ¡°It was very fast.¡±


    His coarse hand doesn¡¯t quite let go of mine. ¡°This may have happened fast, but a few of us know who he wanted in control of thepany. I just wanted to let you know that you¡¯ll have full support of the board. Take your time and grieve, and it¡¯ll be waiting for you.¡±


    A slight shock runs through me as I look into his knowing eyes. What the hell does that mean? Nathan¡¯s getting thepany, isn¡¯t he? I can only regard him in stunned silence as he smiles and nods, and then his hands slip from my fingers as he approaches Nathan.


    I turn slightly, listening hard as he wrings Nathan¡¯s hand, but he makes no other mention of my father¡¯s business.


    A stab of unease wrestles with the numbness inside me as I stare out into the crowd of murmuring people. I never actually seriously considered the possibility that I might inherit the majority of my father¡¯s shares, and not Nathan. I always assumed it would be him. He was the oldest and the most capable of all three of us. Mr. ckwell made it sound like I would be-


    No.


    I won¡¯t think about that. Not now. My stomach turns as I nce towards my left, to the body resting beside me.


    He¡¯s not even buried yet. Shame on you.


    It presses down on my chest and head, and I look around anxiously for a disapproving face as if someone nearby heard my thoughts.


    A dark-haired man interrupts my train of thought. He wears a perfectly fitted inky-ck suit, whichpliments the olive tone of his skin. Suddenly I feel warm all over. I¡¯m not sure why, but maybe it¡¯s his high cheekbones and dark, mncholic eyes. He¡¯s like a stereotype for tall, dark, and handsome. He hasn¡¯t noticed me staring at him yet; he looks inside the coffin with both hands grasping the edge, his fingers white. The man finally turns towards me, his Adam¡¯s apple bobbing as he looks at me with little emotion. No, there¡¯s a lot buried underneath that cool te he tries to hide under. He keeps his limbs unnaturally still to keep them from shaking and his face stays nk, but anyone can see the deep sadness lurking in his eyes. The dark eyes swirl with it.


    Jesus. He¡¯s intense.


    I hold out my hand first, genuinely curious about him already.


    ¡°Thank you foring.¡±


    His hand is pleasantly cool, but mine feels hot. It slips in his hand.


    Crap. That¡¯s embarrassing.


    He blows a sigh through his nose. ¡°I didn¡¯t know your dad very well, but from what I heard, he was a real decent guy. I¡¯m really sorry that you have to go through this.¡±


    The intensity of his gaze makes me feel vulnerable. I can tell that he means it, that he knows what loss feels like. I¡¯m slowly starting to feel it: the stomach dropping, red-eyed, gulping for breath sadness that eats you from the inside out. I feel smacked awake. The small amount of warmth he gives me eclipses everyone else¡¯s shitty condolences and apologies, and my hand trembles inside his.


    Keep it together. Don¡¯t fall apart in his arms.


    ¡°I-thank you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Joe DiFiore.¡±


    It echoes inside my head. It has a nice ring to it.


    He squeezes my hand and then lets it fall gracefully to his side. I¡¯m holding in my breath, still taken aback by everything about him. I¡¯ve been around lots of men and it takes a lot to intimidate me, but I definitely feel like a girl standing next to him. He stands with a shameless confidence, like a man who knows exactly what he wants, and what he wants is to get the hell away from the coffin.Belongs ? to N?velDrama.Org.


    That much is clear.


    ¡°You worked with my dad?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Not directly, but I¡¯m with ck Diamond Entertainment.¡± Noticing my nk face, he goes on. ¡°We supply the casino with mechanics to fix the machines-¡±


    There must be hundreds ofpanies on our payroll. I don¡¯t recognize all of them yet. ¡°Oh, I see.¡±


    ¡°My boss, Jack Vittorio, couldn¡¯t be here. He wanted me toe in his ce.¡±


    I¡¯m a little deted.


    He talks in a smooth, slow cadence but I notice that his eyes look hard. Anxiety flutters in my stomach as I watch his eyes narrow. I¡¯m supposed to recognize his boss¡¯ name, and I don¡¯t. Shit.


    ¡°Right.¡± Behind him, there are at least twenty more people waiting to shake my hand and offer condolences and all of the energy I¡¯ve managed to muster up from all the coffee I could handle seeps out of my bones. My eyes droop and I wish I could just be spirited away from this ce.


    Fuck.


    I can¡¯t do this. I can¡¯t smile and shake hands when all I want to do is fall apart.


    Nathan¡¯s smooth voice punctures my thoughts as the handsome man watches me without a smile or glimmer behind his eyes. Someone leans in the coffin and touches his hand, and my eyes suddenly fill with tears when I think about how they¡¯re going to put him in a hole in the earth and shovel a mound of dirt over him.


    I¡¯ll never be able to touch him again. I¡¯ll never hear his voice again.


    Turning away from Joe, I try to stifle my tears behind my hands. ¡°I-I¡¯m sorry.¡± I want tough at the ludicrousness of that statement. Why am I apologizing for crying at my own father¡¯s wake?


    This man that I hardly know steps in closer and takes my hand between his two cool ones and squeezes hard. At once, I¡¯m consumed with a mixture of grief, surprise and almost-indignation. Who the hell is this guy? Why is he touching me? I¡¯m so used to shaking hands that it feels incredibly confusing to have my personal space vited like this, but at the same time I want more. I want to beforted with his arms around my waist and I even want his lips on my cheek. My skin burns just thinking about it. His cologne wraps around me in a pleasant cloud. It smells musky and I pick up notes of sandalwood. His face turns to my head.


    ¡°It¡¯ll get easier.¡±


    Then he lets me go and that incredible warmth pops like the burst of soap bubbles, and I wrap my arms around myself to try and get it back.

 3-4

    The door closes behind me, shutting me into my apartment.


    Finally. This day is over. Finally.


    Mom and Nathan wanted me to stay over Dad¡¯s house for longer, but I had to tear myself away as soon as I could.


    I¡¯m just exhausted.


    In the middle of my dark apartment, my shoulders slump. I kick off the aching ck pumps and walk barefooted into my bathroom, stripping off my clothes as if they¡¯re bandages wrapped around wounds. My whole body feels sore.


    It was a horrible day, but at least it¡¯s over.


    I kick my pile of ck clothes to the side as I open the giant ss door to my shower and yank on the handle. All six showerheads st water in multiple directions, taking only seconds to heat. My feet curl on the rough surface of the shower floor. I designed the whole apartment when I turned twenty and when Dad¡¯s trusts came through.


    Ever since then, I felt like my nose was ground against the cement floor every day. I have all this money, but I don¡¯t feel like I¡¯ve earned it. Every moment was spent preparing to work in Dad¡¯s business. I never traveled. I don¡¯t have friends. Boyfriends? Forget about it. Between learning Dad¡¯s business and Nathan¡¯s overbearing nature, I never had time. Oh sure, I had a few in college, but they fizzled out like duds of fireworks.


    Frankly, I¡¯ve never been happy.


    It feels so stupid to say it out loud. So incredibly selfish. ording to the rest of the world, I don¡¯t deserve to be unhappy. I¡¯m an ungrateful, whiny, rich girl.


    But when I try to think about what I want, my mind draws a nk.


    Well, there was that hot guy at the funeral. I wouldn¡¯t mind spending more time with him, that¡¯s for sure. He was just so handsome. My skin heats up just thinking about how hot he looked in that suit, and how I felt warm all over when his hands gripped mine.


    Jesus, listen to me. Lusting after a guy I met at Dad¡¯s funeral.


    After a half-hour waste of water, I shut off the streams and grab the fluffy, white towels hanging around the rack. I sigh as I wrap them around my waist and hair, looking in the mirror at my petite reflection. There¡¯s something about being clean that makes everything feel better.


    I¡¯m settled into my pajamas, but there¡¯s a hollow feeling in my stomach that has nothing to do with food. There are photos of him all over my apartment. Every time I see one, it¡¯s like a punch to my stomach. I pick up a photo of all of us: Mom, Dad, Nathan, Jess, and me. They weren¡¯t together for very long. The few memories I have of them together were filled with fights so loud that they shook the walls. When we divorced, Dad got custody of us. I¡¯m not sure whether she really wanted kids. She just wanted the lifestyle.Belongs ? to N?velDrama.Org.


    Anger runs through the photo and up my arm. She just left us-left Jessica and I to fend for ourselves. I yed Mom and tried to keep the peace in the house between all the siblings. I¡¯m still doing that.


    I slump into my couch in a sort of exhausted, dead haze. The phone sitting on my end table shes with Nathan¡¯s name. What the hell could he want now?


    Picking up the phone, I ce it against my ear. ¡°Hi. What is it?¡±


    Trantion: What the hell do you want?


    ¡°Hey, Marisa. Listen, Jess and I were wondering when you wanted to visit Dad¡¯s attorney to read his will.¡±


    Not even a day has gone by.


    ¡°God, Nathan. Couldn¡¯t this wait a week? His funeral was today.¡±


    ¡°Marisa, I know that,¡± he says in a carefully controlled voice. ¡°But we can¡¯t wait a week. Dad¡¯spany needs our attention now. If you want to take a couple weeks off, fine, but at leaste with us to the attorney¡¯s office so we can get this out of the way.¡±


    I stand up from the couch and pace back and forth in front of the television, shaking my head. The heat in my chest makes me want to hurl the phone into the brick firece.


    ¡°There¡¯s something seriously wrong with both of you.¡±


    Nathan sucks in breath and even I¡¯m a little surprised at my tone. I never, ever snap at my brother. I never show him that I¡¯m angry. It¡¯s just easier to shove my feelings aside and try to get along.


    You need to get along with your brother, Marisa. He¡¯s your brother.


    I shake my head.


    ¡°What is your problem? I am trying to make this transition as smooth as possible.¡±


    ¡°Our dad just died, and all everyone seems to care about is what¡¯ll happen to the goddamnpany.¡±


    Once again, I have to swallow my surprise. I¡¯m never this open with people, even my own brother. The more I snap at him, the angrier I get. I¡¯m ready to seize a mug and throw it at the wall. Fuck him. Fuck Jessica.


    ¡°Yeah, I do care about thepany. I¡¯ve only spent half my life invested in it. Dad¡¯s dead, and it sucks, but I¡¯m not going to let hispany go to shit because you¡¯re a weakling. Grow up, Marisa. We¡¯re meeting there at four on Friday, with or without you.¡±


    There¡¯s the Nathan I remember.


    He ends the phone call before I can scream back at him. My arm swings and I throw the phone into the couch¡¯s cushions. Christ, I don¡¯t know why I¡¯m so angry.


    My eye catches another framed photo of my dad and my throat thickens with tears.


    Yes, you do.


    * * *


    The bars from the Brooklyn Bridge cast long, narrow ck shadows on my younger sister¡¯s face. They scan her face and whip off. I adjust my sunsses as the sun¡¯s re beams right into the windshield, blinding us both. I think about all the times my dad and I used to walk Brooklyn Bridge. He was such an active man. All day, he was constantly moving.


    ¡°As soon as my moneyes through, I¡¯m going to get a bigger apartment.¡± Jessica offers me a gum-popping, wide smile. ¡°Don¡¯t you think I should?¡±


    I jerk my head to the side as I grip the steering wheel. ¡°I think you¡¯re twenty-three and you should save your money for more important things.¡±


    Despite there being only a few years of difference in age between us, I¡¯ve always felt so much older than her.


    Jessica rolls her thickly outlined eyes at me and kicks out her leopard-printed legs. ¡°Ugh, I forgot how boring you are.¡±


    I ignore the sizzle of heat inside my chest. ¡°Jess, you shouldn¡¯t talk to me like that. I¡¯m your sister. Dad would¡¯ve wanted us to get along.¡±


    ¡°Oh, please. Daddy never cared about anything but his stupid work. What good did it do to him, in the end?¡±


    My face flushes suddenly and my fingers whiten on my steering wheel.


    ¡°He aplished a lot in his lifetime. More than you or I ever will.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, he ignored his kids and wife, who heter divorced. He may have been sessful at work, but he failed when it came to his family life.¡±


    Her words gall me so fucking much. ¡°That is not true.¡±


    ¡°Whatever,¡± she smirks bitterly, looking out the window. ¡°He never came to one damn ser practice, or dance recital, or y, or anything.¡±


    ¡°No, he was too busy working hard to make sure that you could participate in all of those things. So you can buy your fucking mansion in the Hamptons or whatever the hell it is you want now.¡± I shake my head at her. ¡°Speaking ill of a dead person is a new low for you.¡±


    She gives me a malicious look with her overge eyes.


    Goddamn spoiled brat.


    At least I can count my lucky stars that I¡¯m not like either of them.


    I pull into the parking lot of thewyer¡¯s office, a small nondescript building. Nathan¡¯s blond head gleams in the sun as he stands outside, arms crossed, waiting for us.


    ¡°You¡¯rete,¡± he says in greeting as we step out of the car.


    I shrug my purse over my shoulder. ¡°Someone couldn¡¯t decide what jacket to wear.¡±


    She tosses her honey-blonde hair over her shoulder and gives me a flippant shrug. ¡°Whatever.¡±


    ¡°Whatever¡± is her constant refrain.


    Our shoes scuff on the cement as we make our way to the doors, my blood rushing to my head. It gets worse when the receptionist greets us cheerily behind the desk and gets up right away.


    ¡°Mr. Pierce has been expecting you. Right this way.¡±


    She leads us into a dark, mahogany office with three chairs. Mr. Pierce is a bespectacled old man with a kind, open face. He gets up from behind the desk and shakes all of our hands, giving me a warm smile. It feels genuine, unlike most of dad¡¯s associates.


    ¡°Good to meet you.¡±


    My breath is frozen in my lungs and all I can manage is a squeak. Nathan res at me. He was always so touchy about manners. There are two seats in the front, which Nathan and I take. Jessica takes a seat behind us.


    ¡°Right, well. Mr. Toffoli has indicated to me that you all have limited time, so I¡¯ll try to make this as quick and painless as possible.¡± He sits back down behind the desk and picks up a sheaf of paper. ¡°Your father gave me a letter apanying thest will and testament to exin why he made his choices.¡±


    Beside me, I hear Nathan straighten in his chair. ¡°Is that so?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± He balls his fist in front of his mouth and gives a mighty cough. ¡°You¡¯ll need to sign here.¡±


    We pass around the document to sign, Nathan squirming in his seat as the old man goes through all the procedures.


    He begins reading the will, most of it a chain of legalese that I can barely decipher. ¡°I appoint Marisa Toffoli as the new Chief Executive Officer and majority owner of Worlds Casino with a few conditions. If she performs poorly or vites her contract, the shares will be divided amongst her siblings. I bequeath 60% of mypany¡¯s shares to Marisa. For my children, Nathaniel and Jessica Toffoli, I leave them each 20% of my shares.¡±


    Holy fucking hell. He named me CEO. Not my older brother who charms and impresses everyone. Me.


    He also gave me most of the shares.


    A wave of shock ms into me like a huge tidal wave. This can¡¯t be real.


    I feel Nathan¡¯s apoplectic rage next to me and I have a strong, bizarre desire tough.


    What a steaming pile of shit you gave me, Dad.


    I can¡¯t even look at Nathan. My face burns so hot that I¡¯m sure I look like a bright red fruit. I flinch when I hear him speak. His voice is thick with rage.


    ¡°What?¡±


    Poor Mr. Pierce looks flustered under Nathan¡¯s bright re. ¡°It¡¯s right here in his will. Would you like me to read the letter?¡±


    ¡°Are you sure you read it right? Let me see it!¡± He leans forward and snatches it out of Mr. Pierce¡¯s hand and reads it. His long, blond eyebrows narrow as he reads further. Jessica leans in and looks behind her shoulder, her normally sallow face twisted in sadistic pleasure.


    ¡°Oh, snap. He really did it.¡±


    I¡¯m horrified by her tone. ¡°Jessica.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    Nathan¡¯s hot gaze nces over the paper to look at me. It¡¯s terrifying. Ugliness twists his face as he res at me in disgust.


    ¡°What did you do to him?¡± he snarls.


    ¡°Nothing,¡± I say vehemently, appalled by the look on his face. ¡°I had no idea about this. I always thought that you would be the one to inherit hispany. Everyone did.¡±


    But Nathan doesn¡¯t believe me. The will crumples in his fist. ¡°Did you go behind my back? What the fuck is this, Marisa?¡±


    ¡°L-listen. Why don¡¯t we all settle down and I can read the letter. Maybe it can help shed some light-¡±


    Somewhere behind my shock I feel a ripple of anger. So I would¡¯ve had to con Dad into changing his mind? I¡¯m not good enough to lead thepany?


    ¡°I didn¡¯t go behind your back. I would not do that!¡±


    Our heads snap towards Mr. Pierce as he begins to talk. ¡°Dear Nathaniel, Jessica, and Marisa. I know that my decision mighte as a bit of a shock, but it hase to my attention within thest few years that Marisa possesses all the qualities that thepany needs in a leader: fairness, decisiveness, integrity, experience, andpassion. She has proved her dedication to our family¡¯s legacy. She is not only a natural leader, but also a great manager.


    ¡°To Nathaniel, I know this must be extremely disappointing, but please keep in mind that this was an excruciating decision I had to make, and it was a decision I made with great care. You¡¯re a very bright, passionate young man, but I think that youck the ability to develop close rtionships with others. I worry that I¡¯ve failed you, because you seem tock the interpersonal warmth that I expect from my leaders. Coworkers have reported to me that you tend to be cold, and the person who leads thispany cannot be cold. Your strengths lie in your ability to executeplex tasks, and I just believe that Marisa would be better suited in a managerial position-¡±


    ¡°That is such bullshit!¡± He stands up and pounds the desk in front of him with his fist.


    Holy crap.


    My heart pounds in my throat. It wasn¡¯t pleasant to see Nathan¡¯s reaction as Mr. Pierce read Dad¡¯s words, but at the same time I feel a small thrill of triumph. Dad saw through Nathan after all. He saw behind the pomp and the nice face and saw the ugliness inside.


    ¡°Nathan, calm down.¡±


    He whirls on me,shing out like a maniac. ¡°Don¡¯t you fucking dare. I know you had something to do with this.¡±


    How the fuck can he think like that?


    His lips shake as he points an using finger at me, his hair trembling around his face.


    ¡°You¡¯re out of your damn mind.¡±


    ¡°Who taught you everything about the business? Who set you up with your first clients? I¡¯ve been in this for at least two years longer than you. How the fuck could he pick you over me?¡±


    Red-faced and angry, I search inside myself. Did I ever really expect Dad to hand thepany over to me? No, but now that I think about it, maybe I do deserve it. I¡¯m just as capable as he is, and Dad knew it.


    Jessica looks at both of us with a wide grin, clearly enjoying the fight.


    ¡°This-this is really out of hand. Your father had his reasons-¡±


    ¡°Bullshit!¡±


    Mr. Pierce almost drops his sses. ¡°Young man, there¡¯s really no need for cursing in this office.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care!¡± He turns back towards me, his eyes zing. ¡°You better watch your fucking back. Every wrong move you make, I¡¯ll be watching. I¡¯m still a member of the board.¡±


    The knife in my chest twists. He looks scary. I¡¯ve never seen him so enraged. It reminds me when he was a child and how he would scream and punch and hurt until he got his way. ¡°Nathan,e on!¡±


    He doesn¡¯t wait for another second. Nathan storms out of the office, leaving behind Jess, me, and the stuttering Mr. Pierce.


    ¡°Dear me,¡± he says, clutching his chest.


    ¡°Fuck.¡±


    Thanks a lot, Dad.

 3-5

    JOE


    Depression is like disappearing.


    Most nights I don¡¯t get much sleep, and when I do my dreams are violent and disturbing. During the day, I walk around in a zombie-like stupor. I¡¯m numb and my eyes burn. Things that used to get my rocks off, made me smile, whatever-they all crumble in my mouth like ash. Tasteless. Odorless. I alternate between pacing restlessly and sitting in front of my TV in a silent torpor. Rage boils in my insides, making me sick, making everyone around me sick, too.


    All my friends distanced themselves from me because I changed. I changed so much that I hardly recognize the man in the mirror. The sad, miserable sack of a man I¡¯ve be, whose eyes are gouged with deep lines and who hasn¡¯t shaved in a week. Or maybe it¡¯s the man reflected in old photos. I just loathe him. That smiling fuckwit never knew how good he had it. What a fucking moron.


    Commercial.


    Commercial.


    Anothermercial.


    FX. Starz.


    Back to the beginning.


    My thumb clicks on the arrowpulsively as I scroll through the channels. My vision blurs because I¡¯ve been staring at the screen for so goddamn long. It¡¯s incredibly bright and it burns my eyes. I can¡¯t see shit, but I still keep clicking as if I¡¯m searching for something.


    I want something to fill this fucking emptiness.


    Giving up, I turn the TV off and the pleasant hum of the screen disappears. The hollow feeling in my chest opens wider and I look around my shitty apartment. So many ways to kill yourself: the Draino under the sink, just waiting to burn through your insides, the kitchen knife grinning on the counter, and the piece strapped to my leg. Sometimes, I lie in bed and try to will my heart to stop beating.


    The temptation flies away when I think about my ma¡¯s anguished face when Janice died. She couldn¡¯t take it if I died, too.


    I stand up and pace around the coffee table, passing by photo frames I¡¯ve turned around so that I don¡¯t have to see her face. My stomach gnaws, and I¡¯m dimly aware that I haven¡¯t eaten anything all day. I stumble into the kitchen and rip open the fridge. Nothing but condiments and beer. No matter.


    Nothing really matters.


    In the bathroom, I look at my miserable face and a sudden wave of self-loathing consumes me. That hollow man staring at me isn¡¯t me. He¡¯s a shell of who I used to be. The bathroom fills with the sound of buzzing as I grasp the electric razor and shave myself, attempting to change my appearance so that maybe a sliver of the old me will shine through the mess.


    Still the same.


    My eyes burn when I think about what I¡¯ve lost, and I strip off my boxers as the pressure in my head builds.


    God fucking damn it. It was that girl at the funeral the other day. She wore that little ck dress, wearing that slightly shocked expression, as if she didn¡¯t understand how exactly she got there. God, I know that feeling.


    It brought back all the memories from my sister¡¯s funeral. All the pain rushed right back to my heart, squeezing me. A few days and I¡¯m at rock bottom. Again.


    I rip open the shower door so violently that it rattles, and then yank on the knob as I copse on the wall in front of me. Cold water sprays over my bare back and my muscles tighten. My eyes squeeze shut.


    I see bright, white tiles and Janice¡¯s body lying on the floor, her dark hair spilled around her hair like blood.N?vel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.


    No.


    My eyes open into the spray, my teeth clenched together as I fight the memory away, but it ys in front of my eyes anyway. It¡¯s as if my brain wants to torture me.


    I was at myare¡¯s when my ma called me. I still remember how she wrapped an arm around my waist, her lips trailing my neck when I got the call. Everything was fine. I was a capo, a captain in the Vittorio family, and I had a real piece of ass for a girlfriend and aare on the side. I dreamed about this since I was a kid. The world was mine. I was finally making really good money, and people on the street knew who I was. There were millions of girls in New York, and I could have my pick of any of them. Life was good.


    ¡°Joseph, you¡¯ve got toe to the hospital.¡±


    My back straightened on the bed, and I pushed the girl away from me. ¡°Ma? What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    She was crying. ¡°It¡¯s your sister.¡±


    She didn¡¯t need to say anything more. I assumed it wasn¡¯t too bad. Janice was a little reckless, sometimes. Sorta like me. I sprung off the bed and grabbed my clothes. Myare sulked on the bed as I pulled my clothes on.


    ¡°All you ever want to do is fuck,¡± she said in a low voice.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that the point of having aare?¡±


    I was an asshole with girls.


    ¡°How about I tell your girlfriend about us?¡±


    I gave her a deadly look.


    ¡°My sister¡¯s in the hospital, you sick cunt. There is no us.¡±


    And I never saw her again.


    Mom was waiting for me inside the ICU. I started to feel very uneasy. The people in the rooms looked in very bad shape. I walked closer and passed the window. My breath caught in my throat. I remember the moment. The precise moment when it all fell apart-it was when I took the handle of the door to my sister¡¯s room. After that, I changed forever.


    She was t on the hospital bed,atose. My ma was bent over her, crying.


    ¡°She was shot. Your sister was shot.¡±


    Shot? How was it possible? I was the one in the life. I was the one who had a need to pack heat, not her.


    I didn¡¯t understand.


    Then the details filtered in. She was at a convenience store, which was robbed. The gunman panicked and shot at the store after he left, hitting Janice in the chest. The paramedics told me that she asked for me, in the few precious minutes that she was still alive.


    And then she was not.


    The next week was a haze-a bunch of guys, patting my back as they moved down the coffin and a shitload of food delivered to my ma¡¯s house that we didn¡¯t touch because we had no appetite.


    It wasn¡¯t fair. She didn¡¯t deserve to die. I did. I¡¯m the asshole who cheated on his girlfriend, who hasmitted every kind of violent crime. Why my sister?


    My fist smashes into the shower wall as a strangled yell leaves my throat. Again and again I pound the wall, until my hand hurts so badly that it distracts me from the pain I¡¯m always carrying around. Like a chronic illness that always burns inside you, the pain never quite disappearing, just fading to a dull ache.


    The one who deserves it is still breathing, but he¡¯s unreachable. I would have killed the man who did it, but unfortunately the cops got him first. He¡¯s serving a life sentence.


    I could get his brother.


    Fuck it. I can¡¯t stand this anymore. I¡¯ll have my revenge and if Jack has a fucking problem with that, he can kill me.


    So be it. I don¡¯t give a fuck anymore.


    I m the knob in and it cuts off the spray. Acid runs through my veins as I grab the hanging towel and pat myself down quickly before throwing it into the hamper with all my strength.


    I¡¯ll get rid of that fucker, and no one¡¯s going to stop me.


    There¡¯s hardly any clean clothes left in my bedroom. I¡¯m supposed to meet Jackter, so I take the remaining suit left in the closet and pull it on. I reach underneath my pillow and grab the revolver. The metal feels hot to the touch and it zes up my arm, almost as if it¡¯s an extension of my hand. Then I tuck it in my waist and shrug on the jacket.


    For the first time in months, I feel something other than numb disbelief and crushing despair.


    What should I do with his body?


    I can figure that outter.

 3-6

    The inside of my car is hot, or at least I imagine that it is. My temper keeps my chest burning and it radiates outward, until the whole car feels like an oven. I nce inside the darkened windows of the restaurant and hold my gun in myp, running my fingers over the sharp edges. I can¡¯t catch a glimpse of him yet. It¡¯s only three, but he should be inside, prepping for the night shift.


    A shadowed form moves inside the restaurant and I make my decision, signing on the dotted line.


    I¡¯m condemned. Going to Hell. Whatever, I¡¯ve known that for a long time.


    I open the door and leave the car, not even bothering to hide the gun in my hand. Why should I hide it?


    ¡°Joe.¡±


    A small voice I recognize makes me turn my head. Nicky Santoro stands ten feet away, his short figure rigid with shock. How the fuck did he find me here? The muscles in my face harden as Nicky walks closer to me. I have good reason to hate this guy. He took my position when Vince decided I didn¡¯t have the chops to be capo anymore.


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be here, man. You¡¯re supposed to be meeting with Jack.¡± His voice bes taut as his eyes look me up and down. ¡°What the fuck are you doing?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s it look like? I¡¯m going to kill the bastard¡¯s brother.¡±


    ¡°In broad fucking daylight? Are you out of your mind?¡±


    Yes, and I don¡¯t care.


    Nicky walks closer to me, unperturbed by the gun clenched in my hand. ¡°Put it away before someone sees us.¡±


    Fuck.


    ¡°Do not fucking stop me, Nick. I need this.¡±


    I hate the way his eyes wrinkle as he looks at me.


    I don¡¯t need your fucking pity.


    ¡°It¡¯s the least you can do after taking my fucking job.¡±


    ¡°Put the gun away,¡± he hisses. ¡°Have you lost your mind? Jack told you not to-her death was all over the news. You¡¯ve already beaten the shit out of the guy-¡±


    I got him after he left the restaurant and he didn¡¯t even fight back when I beat his fucking face in. I beat him so badly that I sprained my wrist, and even then Vince had to subdue me to stop me from killing the guy.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t enough,¡± I say in a raw voice. ¡°His brother gets to get up in the morning and do whatever the fuck he wants, but Janice can¡¯t do anything ever again. He killed my sister, and I¡¯ll kill his brother.¡±


    I take a step forward and his hand shoots out, grabbing me.


    ¡°He had nothing to do with it.¡±


    Heat flushes over my skin and I rip my arm from his grasp. ¡°I should be able to get rid of that asshole¡¯s brother, and you know it. An eye for an eye. Justice.¡± I look into the darkened restaurant again, tempted to shove Nick aside and kick open the door.


    It was an agonizing death. A bullet straight to the gut, which ricocheted through several major organs. The paramedics told me that she was crying for me.


    ¡°Get my brother. I need my brother.¡±


    You know how many nightmares I had when they told me that?


    She bled out and died in the ambnce. Janice should have been safe.


    I should have saved her. Fuck, she wanted me and I wasn¡¯t there. I¡¯m in the most powerful crime family in the East Coast, and I couldn¡¯t keep her safe. And for months I agonized about the senseless violence that resulted in her death, the should-haves and could-haves, the gut-wrenching powerlessness I felt when he was sentenced to life in prison. I didn¡¯t want that fucker in jail. I wanted his life in my hands. I wanted to be in a room with him, alone with a pair of pliers and a blowtorch. I never got that. All I have is my loss.


    I can¡¯t believe she¡¯s gone, like actually-never-going-toe-back, gone. Every day I go through this hellish cycle of denial, anger, bargaining, and depression. I can¡¯t ept it. I won¡¯t.


    Nick spreads his hands. ¡°It¡¯s not like I agree with Jack, but he¡¯s the boss, and he doesn¡¯t want you to whack the guy.¡±


    ¡°Fuck Jack!¡±


    Nicky¡¯s fist swings out of nowhere and clips me across the face. Blood bursts into my mouth and I stumble a few steps.


    ¡°Watch your fucking mouth. I¡¯m not fucking around anymore, Joe. Get in your car and go. You need to see the boss.¡±


    The fury is like an open sore inside my stomach, eating away at the walls. I want to lunge forward and smash the prick¡¯s face in.


    ¡°Don¡¯t give me that look, you prick. I¡¯m just trying to keep your ass from getting killed.¡±


    One of his hands rests on his hip, where I know he holds a gun. I eye it warily.


    Fine, asshole. I¡¯ll do what you say just this one time, but I¡¯ll be back here to finish what I started.


    I tear my gaze away from the restaurant and nod to Nicky without another word.


    He doesn¡¯t understand. How could he?


    Janice was a year younger. We were best friends. I used to joke that she was more of a brother than a sister, because she liked doing all the shit I did. We yed hockey on the street, went camping, yed cards, we went to high school together, everything. She¡¯s in every good memory I have. How am I supposed to go on without her?


    Every day is a struggle just to get up, to find a reason to open my eyes. It really hit me hard when I went to that funeral the other day. Fucking hell, it was thest thing I wanted to do. I felt for that girl. From what I heard, it was very sudden and unexpected, but what I told her was a lie. It didn¡¯t get easier for me.


    * * *


    Nicky is like a shadow next to me, a shadow I long to leave behind. He nks me as we walk towards the deli. Jack sits outside around a small patio table, smoking a cigar while Vince, the underboss, sits across from him. He¡¯s in his mid thirties. Good-looking guy, but aplete prick. His left hand glimmers with a small wedding band. Jesus Christ. I still can¡¯t believe he¡¯s married.


    ¡°Oh, there he is!¡± Vince stands up and gives me a wide smile as he wraps his arms around my back and pounds me.


    ¡°Hey, Vince,¡± I say in a toneless voice. ¡°Jack.¡±


    I nod at the Vittorio Crime Family boss, the man who gave me the position of capo before Vince yanked it away from me. He still doesn¡¯t trust me.


    ¡°Nicky, thanks for bringing him in.¡±


    ¡°No problem, Jack.¡± Nicky gives me a grim look before he walks past the table and enters the store.


    Vince¡¯s eyes darken as he pulls away. ¡°You were supposed to be here earlier.¡±


    Fuck your mother.


    I¡¯m still fucking pissed at Nicky. ¡°I¡¯m here now, aren¡¯t I?¡±


    Vince res at me for a moment, looking like he¡¯d quite like to punch in my face, but he relents.


    Jack gets up from his seat and puts out the cigar. ¡°Come inside, Joe. We gotta talk.¡±


    The ss door swings open and we walk past the customers gathered inside the deli, into the back rooms, which hold a pool table, several desks, a dartboard, and chairs. Paulie, Nicky, and all the other captains are already there. Nicky looks away from me as soon as I walk in.


    Paulie looks up from under his eyesses. ¡°Did you hear? Carmine Lhesi is still fucking giving orders from prison to the New Jersey outfit.¡±


    The underboss shakes his head darkly. ¡°Can someone tell me why the fuck he¡¯s still alive?¡±


    Jack walks around the pool table. ¡°Forget about Carmine, Vince. He¡¯s in jail. They¡¯ll get to him when they can. I¡¯m more worried about the Worlds Casino.¡±


    ¡°Money,¡± he says under his breath. ¡°It¡¯s always about cock-sucking, motherfucking money.¡±


    Jack ignores him. ¡°The death of Dominic Toffoli could note at a worse fucking time. I got the feds all over my ass every fucking hour of the day because of that lunatic Carmine, and this business is one of our greatest assets.¡± He crosses his arms over his chest.


    ¡°What do you know about this broad? Can she be trusted?¡± I ask him.


    ¡°Her old man could.¡± He runs his fingers over the felt. ¡°Anyway, that¡¯s what I needed to talk to you about. I want you to go there. Help her. Make sure she doesn¡¯t do anything stupid.¡±


    My fists clench at my sides. ¡°And if she does?¡±


    ¡°What the fuck do you think?¡± Vince explodes. ¡°Smack her around. Scare her. Put the fear of God in her.¡±


    I nce at him sharply. Sometimes, I wonder if he has any brain cells. ¡°This is not the kind of woman you smack around, Vince. She has a lot of connections.¡±


    ¡°Then lick her pussy.¡±


    The rest of the guys explode withughter, but it all chimes around me like nonsense words. I can¡¯t feel any of it. It rolls right off my shoulders like rain running down my back. Vince¡¯s face brightens withughter, but it falls when he sees mine.


    ¡°Jesus Christ, lighten up a little.¡±


    Fuck you.


    ¡°Joey,¡± Jack cuts in. ¡°This is very important. You cannot fuck this up.¡±


    All of their eyes rest on me. They¡¯re like wolves staring down at me, just waiting for me to trip so that they can eat me alive. I¡¯ve lost their respect after what happened at the heist months ago. I fucked it up because I was too distracted over-over everything that happened with my sister.


    ¡°Rx. I¡¯ll handle it.¡±


    Fuck, it won¡¯t be hard. It might even be enjoyable. I¡¯ve never had problems with girls. You just give them a little bit of attention, make them feel special, and then they¡¯re eating out of your hand.


    Then I think about her small round face and how her eyes filled with tears when she talked to me, and guilt and duty sh together.


    ¡°Just get close to her. I can¡¯t imagine her dad wouldn¡¯t have told her about us-¡±


    ¡°I told you. She acted like she had no fucking idea who we were. I even dropped your name. No reaction.¡±


    Vince gives Jack a worried look. ¡°That¡¯s weird.¡±


    I shrug. ¡°Whatever. We¡¯ll find out when I see her.¡± Suddenly amongst them, I feel a strong desire to return to my apartment. To be alone. ¡°Is that all, then?¡±


    Jack¡¯s pinched face turns to me and he jerks his head, motioning for outside. I can feel the rest of the guys¡¯ eyes on me as I turn my back. I know that they¡¯re probably talking about me already, but can¡¯t bring myself to care. My eyes squint in the sunshine as we walk outside and Jack motions towards the patio table with two chairs.


    Fuck.


    ¡°Sit down.¡±


    I sit down and look straight into his watery eyes.


    He¡¯s not a very impressive figure, but somehow he always manages to lookrger than life. He leans across the table, taking more than half the space. ¡°Joe, I need you to put your grief behind you.¡±


    A small spark of anger sizzles inside me as I stare at his lined face. What would he know about this kind of loss? ¡°I have.¡±


    ¡°No, you fucking haven¡¯t. It¡¯s all over your face. You¡¯re moping all the goddamn time, and I¡¯m sick of it.¡±


    ¡°All due respect, Jack, I do not mope. Do you see me crying? No. I¡¯m dealing with it like a man, but she¡¯s my sister. We were very close.¡±


    Isn¡¯t that what this whole fucking thing is about? Family? How could this piece of shit look me in the eye and tell me that I¡¯m grieving too much?


    ¡°She was your sister. She¡¯s gone.¡±


    My jaw twitches. The callousness in his voice lights that desire inside me to strike back. Don¡¯t scream at him. He¡¯s the boss. He¡¯s the boss.


    ¡°Go out with the guys. Have a drink. Fuck around. Do whatever it takes to get this out of your system. I want the old Joey back.¡±


    The tremble in his voice makes me look up at him. I know he wants me to be better, but I can¡¯t just flip a switch for myself.


    I can¡¯t fucking go back.


    ¡°I know it¡¯s not what you want to hear, but I¡¯ll never be the same man again.¡±This text is ? N?velDrama/.Org.


    ¡°Why are you fucking doing this to yourself?¡± He ms his hand on the table, but the vibration doesn¡¯t even make me flinch. ¡°You¡¯re not just some soldier in the family, Joe. I made you captain because I believed in you. And you fucked it all up.¡±


    I¡¯ll never be able to live that down. ¡°It was just that one time.¡±


    ¡°Still, you walk around like you don¡¯t give a shit about anything anymore. Frankly, you seem like you¡¯re cracking up. You¡¯re one of those guys who wants to get caught.¡±


    Heat rises in my chest and something else, something that makes my palms sweat. ¡°That¡¯s quite a leap. I do not want to get caught.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, well, you better prove to me that you¡¯re willing to put in everything you¡¯ve got into this family. This is not a fucking part-time job. The moment you were made, you signed up for life. You can¡¯t ck off or quit, or I¡¯ll find someone else to do your job.¡±


    My vision slows down and shrinks into a tunnel, where all I can see is Jack¡¯s face. I swallow hard.


    I¡¯ll get rid of you if you don¡¯t smarten up.


    Basically, that¡¯s what he¡¯s telling me right now. He doesn¡¯t trust me and I¡¯m on thin ice. This is what my behavior thesest few months has cost me.


    I don¡¯t want to die.


    The thought ms into me with the force of a wrecking ball. Despite wishing I were dead every morning, when confronted with the actual possibility of real death I feel suddenly-


    Afraid.


    I clench my fists and the nails bite into my palms. ¡°I know what I signed up for, and I¡¯ll get the job done. I promise.¡±


    Jack¡¯s unrelenting stare softens slightly as he leans forward and ps my shoulder. ¡°You¡¯re a good kid, Joey. Just go see Marisa as soon as possible and call me with a report.¡±


    I stand to my feet a little shakily, prepared to sprint to the casino if that¡¯s what it takes to keep him from popping me. ¡°All right. Bye, Jack.¡±


    Energy courses through my veins as I turn my back on him and walk back towards my car. My body feels renewed. Electric.


    There¡¯s nothing more stimting than a death threat.


    I will get the job done. Not just because I have to, but because I want to be remembered as a stand up guy.

 3-7

    There¡¯s a scaffold in front of the dpidated Worlds Casino sign and workers removing it, preparing to rece it with a more modern sign. Lord knows, the casino could do with a remodeling, but the new owner seems to be sparing no expense. New carpet everywhere, new paint, new everything. She sectioned off several areas of the casino to start the remodeling slowly while keeping it open for business. Smart. It might hurt business for a couple weeks, but at least the ce will be updated from all the god-awful 70¡¯s decor.


    I climb the steps to the manager offices and sh my badge to security. Recognizing me, they move aside and I walk down the hall, looking for the President¡¯s office. It¡¯s a huge ce with tons of hallways, but I remember where the office was.


    Her old man¡¯s namete is still attached to the door. How interesting. I raise my fist and knock three sharp raps.


    A muffled female voice booms out. ¡°Come in.¡±


    I twist the handle and walk inside the brightly lit office, which is kind of a mess. There are papers strewn all over the oak desk and behind the massive pile of papers sits the girl I met the other day. She looks smaller because she¡¯s buried in paperwork and sitting in that massive chair. Her light eyes nce up from the desk and freeze. Something goes through me when our eyes meet. My heart thuds against my chest.


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s you.¡± A faint blush rises in her cheeks, making her look even prettier. ¡°Mr. DiFiore?¡±


    I step into the room, a smile crossing my face despite myself. Good, she remembers me. ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s just Joe.¡±


    She stands up and moves from behind the desk. Marisa wears a pencil skirt and a white blouse, one where I can see the outline of her bra. Sexy. Her dark blonde hair is swept up in a bun, and I have a sudden desire to see her undo it, to see it fall over her shoulders in a wave and to take a fist of it in my hand and-


    Jesus. Calm down, boy.


    Marisa shakes my hand and blushes again at the contact. A pleasant, triumphant feeling makes me swallow down a smirk. If she likes me, this might be a lot easier.


    ¡°What can I do for you, Joe?¡±


    ¡°Actually, my boss wanted me toe here to help you with the transition. I can answer questions you might have.¡±


    She runs a shaky hand over her head. ¡°Well, I could definitely use the help, but I¡¯m still not sure who you are, though.¡±


    I pinch my hand with my thumb, fighting the unease inside me. This girl doesn¡¯t know who the fuck we are.


    ¡°My organization worked with your father for many years.¡±


    She motions for me to sit down and grabs a stack of papers, sitting next to me. ¡°What was it? ck Diamond something?¡±


    ¡°ck Diamond Entertainment.¡±


    Her small hands tremble as she takes the sheet of paper from the pile. I wonder when was thest time she slept.


    ¡°Are you all right, hon?¡±


    Marisa¡¯s eyes widen at my tone and I inwardly kick myself for talking to her like she¡¯s just some ordinary girl. She heaves a great sigh. ¡°I¡¯m-I¡¯m fine, thanks. Just a little tired.¡±


    ¡°This must be a very stressful time for you.¡±


    Her eyes quiver as she looks at me, and for one horrifying moment I think that she might burst into tears, but she swallows it all down. ¡°Yeah, it is. I¡¯ve a lot of work to do. I¡¯m just saddled with all this paperwork. It¡¯s crazy.¡±


    ¡°I can help you sort through them.¡±


    She continues on, hardly listening. ¡°The worst part is that my siblings hate me for getting the job over them, especially my brother.¡± Her cheeks blush magenta and I can see that she immediately regrets opening up to me. ¡°Sorry, I don¡¯t know why I said that. It must be the fatigue. I¡¯m a little overwhelmed, that¡¯s all. There¡¯s not many people I can talk to about this stuff.¡±


    I don¡¯t know what I did to earn her trust, but I¡¯m marking it as a good thing. My first impressions are that she seems lost and a little lonely, a girl that can be easily charmed and swayed. Even though my heart beats hollowly in my chest, there¡¯s a spark I feel between us. It¡¯s barely there, but alive. And I¡¯m going to take advantage of it.


    Maybe I¡¯ll even get to fuck her.


    God, that¡¯s tempting. Just the thought stirs some life into my cock. I wonder what she¡¯d look like naked, how her tits would feel in my hands.


    I don¡¯t know what it is, but Jack made me realize that there were very few fates worse than death. I don¡¯t believe in God or an afterlife. There¡¯s nothing waiting for us but darkness. Emptiness. No conscious thought.


    Even though living with this pain feels like it¡¯s killing me, it¡¯s better than never experiencing anything ever again. Like sex, for example.


    What would sex with her be like? Is she one of those uptight, missionary only types or would she let me fist her hair and pound her on that desk, her legs wrapped around my waist?


    She¡¯s a fine specimen. I nce up her legs to the skirt hugging her hips and the see-through blouse, which reveals a tantalizing hint of flesh and the white bra covering her tits. She looks delectable now, especially with how vulnerable she looks. Her small lips are slightly parted and her eyes are a little wide from fear. I want to slide her onto myp and tell her that everything¡¯s going to be okay.


    I definitely wouldn¡¯t mind taking one for the team.


    A smile spreads over my face and Marisa gives me a puzzled look.


    Shit. What the fuck were we talking about?


    ¡°Sometimes, I feel the same way,¡± I say hastily. ¡°As for your siblings, they¡¯lle around.¡±Belongs ? to N?velDrama.Org.


    ¡°I really hope so.¡±


    She¡¯s still pink in the face, and for a moment we just watch each other. I¡¯m surprised by how much I want her. Lately, I haven¡¯t really felt like fucking anyone. Depression is death to desire, and for some reason I¡¯m not feeling the weight of my sister¡¯s death right now.


    It¡¯s really fucking hard not to hit on her right now. The only reason I¡¯m not is because Jack would flip out if I fucked this up.


    I gesture towards the paper she holds before she can ask me any questions. ¡°What¡¯s that you have?¡±


    ¡°Oh, um-actually, it¡¯s a list of corporations that we deal with. I¡¯ve just been going through them and I¡¯ve noticed a lot of strange things about them. Some of them don¡¯t have any real addresses, a lot of them are connected to the same people, over and over.¡± She squints at another list. ¡°Vincent Cesare, Paulie Marziliano, it just goes on and on.¡±


    I stare at her. She¡¯s just listing all the captains in our family.


    She hands me the highlighted list and I stare down the names. Most I recognize as Jack¡¯s dummy corporations he uses tounder money, others I¡¯m not familiar with. It¡¯s clear from looking at her tired face that she has no idea her dad was working with the mob.


    Well, fuck.


    ¡°I¡¯ve actually frozen all transactions with these ounts until I can figure out what¡¯s going on.¡±


    ¡°You what?¡±


    She looks at me wide-eyed, rmed by the heat in my voice.


    Jesus Christ. Jesus fucking Christ.


    I struggle to keep my voice even. ¡°Miss Toffoli, believe me, you do not want to do that. Many of these are connected with my employer, and we¡¯ve had a rtionship with your father for years.¡±


    ¡°Well, exin it to me then, because I don¡¯t see any evidence that these corporations do any work for us.¡±


    I bite the inside of my lip. ¡°Well, for starters, protection in the VIP rooms-¡±


    ¡°No. I have the names of all of my securitypanies in my head. Not one of them belongs to any of these.¡±


    Unfortunately for all of us, Marisa is an inconveniently sharp woman. What the fuck can I say? I¡¯m going to have to scare her, and I really didn¡¯t want to have to resort to that. She keeps talking while I think of what to do.


    ¡°I cannot find any reason why so much money has been going into these ounts. I have no idea why my dad let this go on for so long, but I¡¯m stopping it now.¡±


    Goddamn it.


    ¡°You¡¯re making a big mistake and I don¡¯t think you realize what the consequences will be.¡±


    Marisa gives me a sharp look, no longer looking confused. She looks pissed. ¡°You¡¯re way out of line. I¡¯m the President of thispany.¡±


    I get up from my chair and I grab the arms of hers, leaning in until she¡¯s forced to sit back.


    ¡°What are y-¡±


    She shuts up when my face is inches from hers. Her pupils shrink into small, round dots and her mouth parts. I can practically smell the fear from her skin.


    ¡°No, you¡¯re out of line. You have no idea who you¡¯re dealing with, honey. This is much bigger than you understand.¡±


    Her small face twists with rage as her arms tremble. ¡°I understand perfectly. You¡¯re trying to extort money from me.¡±


    There it is. It¡¯s finally out in the open. I don¡¯t like seeing the way she shrinks in her chair to get away from me. ¡°You¡¯re going to reopen those ounts immediately, or we¡¯re going to have a fucking problem.¡±


    She flinches from the roughness in my voice. ¡°I¡¯m going to call security.¡± She tries to get up, but I grab her shoulder and shove her back into the chair. Her wide, terrified eyes stare up at me.


    ¡°Goddamn it, you stupid girl. I am trying to help you. Don¡¯t make me hurt you.¡±


    My fingers dig into the fine bones of her shoulder, but I¡¯m unable to cause her any real pain. Fuck. Maybe Jack¡¯s right. Maybe I have gone soft.


    ¡°Get away from me! Security!¡±


    Stupid bitch!


    My hand immediately ttens over her mouth, but it¡¯s too fuckingte. Rent-a-cop guards burst in her office, and I let them haul me away from her chair. She springs out of her chair and grabs the phone.


    ¡°Get him out of here. I¡¯m calling the police!¡±


    No, no, no, no, NO! You¡¯re doing everything wrong!


    She looks up at me under her frazzled hair as they yank my arms back.


    A slow grin spreads over my face. ¡°You¡¯ve just made a big fucking mistake. This isn¡¯t over.¡±


    Marisa¡¯s face whitens as she gestures violently towards the door. ¡°Take him out of here!¡±


    Now Jack will think I¡¯ve really lost it.

 3-8

    MARISA


    The lights over my head give the illusion that it¡¯s still daytime, but Dad¡¯s office window-my office window, is ck. The casino parking lot stretches out beneath me, the asional sound of jets taking off andnding rattling the window.


    What a long, crappy day.


    Who knew that Dad left things in such a mess? I spent the whole day going through all those dummy corporations and canceling the payments to those ounts. I check my watch and it¡¯s nearly eight; I¡¯m already bing my father. My hands still shake when I leave my office and lock the door. I wave goodbye to the people still working and head downstairs. The music in the casino pounds through my head until I can feel my brain swelling against my skull. When I leave the casino, my head snaps from side to side to look for anyone who might be waiting for me.


    I can¡¯t believe that actually happened.


    It all seemed surreal. That Joe guy (whoever the fuck he was) was charming one minute and jumping down my throat the next. He tried to tell me how to run my ownpany. Who the fuck does he think he is? Obviously, he was behind some kind of huge scam going on right under my dad¡¯s nose. It¡¯s hard to believe, frankly. How could Dad spend so much time here and never pick up on all of it?


    The crazy thing was I didn¡¯t have a chance to talk about the whole incident to anyone at work. The police officer hauled him away and I filed a report, and then I went to the bathroom for fifteen minutes to cry in a stall. That look he gave me when he was dragged out of the office haunts me. His eyes looked dead.


    I¡¯ve never been threatened like that by anyone in my life, except Nathan, perhaps. The incident reminded me of all those times Nathan would lock me in my bedroom and corner me when I did something to upset him. My stomach clenches as I remember the horrible things he¡¯d say to scare the living daylights out of me. And yet, I¡¯m struggling with the desire to call him and talk about it.


    I have no one else. Just him and Jessica.


    Sure, I¡¯ve friends, but they wouldn¡¯t understand anything about what I¡¯m dealing with right now.


    I hurry to my car, suddenly shaky and nauseas. I unlock my Lexus and jam the keys in the ignition, heart hammering wildly.


    You¡¯ve just made a big fucking mistake. This isn¡¯t over.


    I wish I didn¡¯t live alone. Maybe I should call Jessica and have here over, just to feel a little less alone. I would call Nathan, but he currently hates my entire existence. He still thinks this was all my doing. As if. When have I ever done anything dishonest? I¡¯ve only put up with him my entire goddamn life because I didn¡¯t want to leave Jessica alone. Who would protect her if I was gone? Dad always left Nathan in charge when he left the house, and his bullying didn¡¯t stop-even when he turned eighteen. She was too young and I just couldn¡¯t leave, and even now she has no idea how ruthless he can be. I still feel scared for her. There were so many times when I just wanted to fuck off and cut ties with him, but Dad would get so upset.


    Screw you, Nathan.


    My stomach growls loudly as I pull into the parking garage under my apartment. I groan, thinking about my empty fridge, but I¡¯m too freaking tired to go out anywhere. I think I¡¯ll order in and zone out in front of Netflix to try and forget the horror of today. Tomorrow¡¯s another day, and I¡¯ll have to contact the police to investigate this mess. I push my keys in the door and unlock it, shoving it in. The door swings open toplete darkness and I shiver instantly.


    I don¡¯t want to go in. I¡¯m still so fucking rattled from that nut, but I force myself in anyway, and I close and lock the door.


    A swishing sound makes my heart jump. Is it a voice? I¡¯m too afraid to turn on the light, because I¡¯m scared it¡¯ll reveal something I won¡¯t want to see.


    It¡¯s nothing. You¡¯re just jumpy tonight.


    Yeah, I¡¯m jumpy. I got attacked in my office. Attacked by a hot guy, and not in a good way. In a shit-your-pants, unpleasant kind of way.


    There it is again, the unmistakable swish of fabric and then suddenly an arm wraps around my waist and pulls me into his chest. His other hand smothers my scream and a rough voice hisses in my ear.


    ¡°Hello, Ms. Toffoli.¡±


    The smooth male voice is instantly recognizable. It¡¯s him. Oh my God, how did he get here?


    He¡¯s here to kill me.


    The light res on before my mind gallops into full-blown panic. The light illuminates the giant foyer and three other men in suits. The callused hand covering my lips blocks my high-pitched scream. I¡¯m trapped, pinned against Joe¡¯s hard body as the oldest man approaches my upright, squirming body. He¡¯s in his sixties and has a shock of white hair, and a gun rests on his hip.


    Oh, God. Someone, please help me!


    ¡°Do you know who I am?¡±


    He has a venerable voice, but it¡¯s strong. The kind that ripens with age. I know from looking at him that screaming and struggling will be useless. There¡¯s no pity in his eyes, just impatience. The men behind him look just as callous.


    Joe¡¯s hand uncovers my lips slowly and wraps around my neck gently. My heart pulses hard into his fingers. It¡¯s strange to be touched like this. His hand moves to my shoulder and I blush hard when Joe¡¯s lips brush over my ear. The sudden surge of warmth confuses the hell out of me.


    ¡°Answer him.¡±


    Answer him, damn it.


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t know you. I don¡¯t know any of you.¡±


    My eyes scan the man with the ck-rimmed spectacles, the other one with thick, dark hair who looks at me with poison in his gaze. None of them look familiar.


    ¡°My name is Jack Vittorio and I¡¯m the boss of the Vittorio Crime Family.¡±


    Crime family?


    I stare at him and my eyes flick from man to man. ¡°What, like the mafia? Is this a joke?¡± My voice rises to the ceiling, echoing around us harshly.


    ¡°Do we look like we¡¯reughing?¡±


    I feel like I¡¯m in some absurd crime drama TV pilot. My eyes scan the men in front of me-yeah, they¡¯re Italian, but this is New York City. We¡¯re everywhere. There¡¯s no such thing as the mafia anymore, is there? These guys must be joking. This must be some sick joke Nathan cooked up, or it¡¯s a scheme to force me to embezzle money.


    ¡°Did my brother put you up to this?¡± I ask, looking at each of them in turn. ¡°How much did he pay you?¡±


    The man in the back, the one with a handsome smile,ughs. ¡°Is she for real?¡±


    Jack¡¯s whole face darkens. ¡°I don¡¯t have time for this shit. You can google my nameter. Your dad might have prepared you for your fucking job. He never exined anything about our arrangement, did he?¡±


    ¡°A-arrangement?¡±


    ¡°I tried to tell you,¡± Joe says in my ear. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t listen.¡±


    I¡¯m confused and I feel stifled in Joe¡¯s suffocating grip. I shift my arms, but Joe¡¯s arm pins them against my body in a vice grip. ¡°There¡¯s no need to hold me captive. I¡¯m not going anywhere.¡±


    Jack looks over my shoulder and nods, and his arms unwind from my body. I step away from him. The absence of his heat around me makes me tremble where I stand.


    I look at Jack square in the face. ¡°My dad never mentioned anything about you. His death was very sudden.¡± The air feels sharp; it cuts my lungs. ¡°Listen, I wasn¡¯t born yesterday.¡±


    ¡°I just told you who I am.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± My tongue darts out to moisten my lips. ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean I believe you.¡±


    Impatience narrows Jack¡¯s face even further and he steps forward. ¡°Why don¡¯t you shut up and just listen.¡±


    I back up, acutely aware of the gun strapped to his waist and I back into Joe¡¯s solid body. I bounce from his chest like he¡¯s a brick wall.


    ¡°Your father and I had an arrangement. I use the casino to turn my cash into a legitimate business, and we skim a little off the top. That¡¯s what all of thosepanies are for. In return, I help you cook the books and offer you protection.¡±


    Cook the books? This snide bastard has no idea what he¡¯s talking about. My hollowughter rings in my apartment.


    ¡°My dad does not-didn¡¯t falsify financial information about the casino. He¡¯s not a criminal.¡±


    The guys behind Jackugh at me, the hallway echoes with their mirth. My body heats like a furnace.


    Even Jack¡¯s face lights up with a grin. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, hon, but he was. The Worlds Casino has been in the red for years now; why do you think your old man asked me for help?¡±


    This must be a scam. I don¡¯t buy it.


    ¡°In the red? That¡¯s impossible! I¡¯ve seen the financial statements!¡±


    ¡°Are you even listening to me? We cooked the books.¡±


    I¡¯m shattered.


    If this is true, everything I¡¯ve known was a lie. My dad misled shareholders. No wonder he was so stressed all the time.


    ¡°Then-then I¡¯ll sell thepany.¡±


    ¡°No, you won¡¯t.¡± The old man¡¯s face looks troubled, but the threat is implicit in his voice. ¡°Or the man behind you will break your legs.¡±


    I turn around and stare at Joe¡¯s impassive face, and I feel a rush of corrosive hatred. His eyes meet mine and quickly look away.


    ¡°Joe¡¯s going to be watching you for the next few months until we decide you¡¯re trustworthy. Drop the fucking charges against him. I¡¯ll let this one time slide because you didn¡¯t know who we were, but now you do and there¡¯s no excuse. The next time you call the cops on one of my associates, I¡¯ll knock your fucking teeth out. I don¡¯t care if you¡¯re a woman.¡±


    My chest feels ufortably tight. Somehow, the threat of violence against me scares me less than the reality of mypany. ¡°But how am I supposed to keep this up? What if I¡¯m audited by the IRS? They¡¯ll find out eventually.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that. We have professionals to keep that from happening, and I¡¯ll let you file for bankruptcy when I decide to pull out of the casino. If that ever happens.¡±


    Jesus.


    My whole life-my dream-it¡¯s shattered at my feet. Jack Vittorio took a shotgun and sted it into oblivion. I want nothing to do with this. Everything I¡¯ve worked for was a sham. I don¡¯t want it anymore. It¡¯s toxic. They¡¯re toxic.


    ¡°Are we clear about what needs to be done? Drop the charges against Joe and set up the ounts. If you don¡¯t, we¡¯ll go after your brother and sister first.¡±


    I¡¯m too shocked to take it in. There¡¯s a hollow feeling in my chest that only gets worse as they stare at me. To my horror, I feel a lump rising in my throat. Oh, Jesus. I really don¡¯t want to cry in front of these people.


    ¡°Fine. Whatever.¡±


    He rolls his eyes at me as he motions to the guys in the back to leave.


    ¡°Chin up, kid. It¡¯ll get easier,¡± he says as he breezes past me.


    The man with spectacles moves past me without a word and another one gives me an apologetic smirk before leaving. I seem to stand there for ages, my eyeballs fixed somewhere at the end of the hallway. Then I turn around and Joe¡¯s standing a foot away from me.


    I yelp and jump backwards, clutching my chest as my heart beats painfully against my ribs. What the fuck is he still doing here? He looks at me with that same irritating, emotionless expression he carries around all the time. I want to p him, to hurt him, to make him feel a tiny bit of the horror inside me.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be there early tomorrow to help you.¡±


    Bile rises in my throat. ¡°Are you going to break my legs if I do something you don¡¯t like?¡±


    He takes a step forward and he towers over me. He must be at least six feet and I¡¯m only 5¡¯4¡å. Dark eyes ze down at me. ¡°Why, are you nning to do something stupid?¡± he asks in a toneless voice.


    Fuck him and his indifference. If it weren¡¯t for his eyes, I would think he was dead inside. ¡°Fuck you.¡±


    His eyes harden. ¡°You¡¯re not mad at me,¡± he says in a low voice. ¡°You¡¯re mad at your old man.¡±


    I flinch from those words. Mad at my father? How could I be mad at a dead man?


    ¡°No, I¡¯m definitely mad at you.¡±


    I swing my arm before I can stop myself, aiming for his face. A loud smack echoes in the foyer as my palm rips across his stubbled cheek. His head whips to the side, his handsome face already blossoming with an angry, red mark. Joe reels his head back and looks at me with murder in his eyes. A slow, deadly smile spreads across his face.


    What the fuck did you just do?


    What an incredibly stupid thing to do to someone who has license to do whatever he wants with me if I don¡¯t deliver on my promises. My breath hitches and I snatch back my hand, backing away.N?vel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.


    He grabs my wrist and squeezes hard enough for me to yelp. ¡°Do you just go around hitting people when you don¡¯t have your way?¡±


    My back hits the wall, but I refuse to be intimidated by this man. ¡°Don¡¯t you?¡±


    The edge of his mouth lifts slightly into an involuntary smile.


    ¡°So you do feel human emotions. I was starting to wonder.¡±


    Lord, Marisa. There¡¯s a time and ce for a smart mouth.


    I know that I¡¯m supposed to be scared of him, but I don¡¯t feel on edge when I¡¯m around him. His eyes are too passive, even if his body is not.


    ¡°You¡¯re in denial,¡± he says suddenly, unaffected by my insult. ¡°Jack will make good on his promise, believe me.¡±


    It cuts me to my core. Yeah, maybe I¡¯m a little in denial. I never knew the mafia existed until tonight-never knew that my dad was a crook. A fraud. He went into business with these sharks and then he died and dumped the mess onto me.


    I¡¯m allowed to be in denial.


    ¡°Maybe you¡¯re in denial about your line of work.¡±


    Joe lunges at me, grabbing my wrists as his body moves into mine. My back ms into the wall and I gasp from the pain, and then his lips crush against mine.


    What?


    I go limp against the wall, stunned. I expected him to hit me, for his fists to batter against my body. Instead, he¡¯s kissing me.


    Why?


    I don¡¯t care about why when his lips are against mine and the most intense heat I¡¯ve ever felt passes through them into my face and neck. Jesus. Even his hands wrapped around my wrists feel like hot brands against my skin.


    ¡°What are you-?¡±


    ¡°Shut up.¡±


    His ragged voice cuts me deep and makes me shiver all over, but at the same time I feel a ripple of anger. No one talks to me like that. Then he leans forward and takes my lips again, and I taste something sweet from his tongue, something like scotch. An unexpected thrill shoots up my abdomen as he nts stunning kiss after kiss on my mouth. I tremble as heat chases away the paralyzing cold in my body and I respond back without thinking, addicted to it. I sigh when his thumbs caress the sensitive skin over the inside of my wrists, a feeling that makes me arch against him.


    God, I need this. I need to feel wanted by somebody. Even if it¡¯s fake, I need to feel like someone cares about me.


    His hands finally let go of my wrists and I gasp into his mouth as he traces my neck and shoulders. Then his face pulls back suddenly and we break apart, breathing heavily. He has his palm against my neck, and my vein throbs against his hand. He holds me against the wall, looking dazed. My whole body glows with warmth and my skin feels oddly sensitive. I want more of him. I¡¯m flying high, and the small smile on his face brings me back down to Earth.


    The fuck am I doing? He¡¯s a monster.


    He ruined my dream.


    ¡°Get the fuck out of my house,¡± I breathe in his face.


    Still smiling, he gives my shoulder a squeeze and leaves out the open door.

 3-9

    Prominent casino mogul dies.


    Millionaire Dominic Toffoli¡¯s will passes on torch to daughter.


    Vittorio family not suspected in deadly Rizzo shooting.


    Jack Vittorio: monster or phnthropist?


    He¡¯s definitely a monster.


    The ck text bleeds into the white screen and I blink my raw eyes. After scourging a hundred different news articles, I¡¯m forced to ept that the mafia exists.


    I sigh angrily, shoving theptop away as thoughts of Joe burst into my head, unhindered. The scrape of his rough cheek against mine and the musky scent that clung to me after he left the apartment, and the way his lips took mine-it was as though he owned me. He felt free to do whatever he wanted with me, no matter what it was. I stalk into the bathroom and my eyes narrow at my flushed face. I attack my hair angrily with my brush, smoothing it out violently.


    Why do I care if I look nice? He shouldn¡¯t have kissed me and I shouldn¡¯t have let him. What¡¯s wrong with me? He¡¯s obviously a violent man, filled with the kind of trouble I want nothing to do with.


    I¡¯m stuck with him, whether I like it or not.


    And I have to get to work. I need to find evidence about everything Jack said, and I¡¯ve just spent a ton of money renovating the casino. I absentmindedly rip off my fingernails, wincing when I tear off too much. Work. Just the thought of it makes my stomach roil. I don¡¯t want to cooperate with these horrible men. I never wanted this.


    My legs shake as I walk out my apartment and lock the door, wondering for the thousandth time how they managed to get inside my ce without damaging the lock. I called a locksmith first thing in the morning right after I dropped the charges against Joe, for all the good that¡¯ll do.


    Nathan might know something about all this. Then again, he might not. If he knew, he would have told me. Warned me.


    I¡¯m on my own, just like Dad.


    I barely pay attention to the road on the way to work. Somehow I manage to drive there safely in my foggy state, eyes barely staying open. I didn¡¯t get much sleepst night. Slipping into the executive entrance, I climb up the stairs to my dark office and flip on the light.


    A man sitting on the chair in front of my desk turns his head and blinks at me. I jerk violently, tossing my purse aside. Itnds with a loud thump and my back ttens against the wall.


    ¡°Jesus!¡±


    His lips thin. ¡°It¡¯s Joe, actually.¡±


    Fuck¡¯s sake. ¡°What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you in my office?¡±


    He raises a beautifully carved eyebrow. ¡°To make sure you fulfill your end of the deal.¡±


    Irritated and heart still racing, I bend down and snatch the purse off the ground. ¡°Did you have to scare the bejesus out of me?¡±


    He lifts one of his shoulders in a shrug. ¡°You scare easily. Thanks for dropping the charges against me, by the way.¡±


    I glower at him as I walk around my desk and sit down shakily. It strikes me as strange how I remember his lips on my face more than I remember his hand wrapped around my mouth to shut me up. Joe looks slightly more at ease, but he still wears that scowl he carries around everywhere. Haunted eyes stare at me from across the desk until I shiver and look away.


    ¡°I brought you some coffee.¡±


    It sits in front of me in a cup. Starbucks. Seized by a sudden rush of indignation, I take the hot cup of coffee and immediately dump it in the trash.


    His face darkens. ¡°What the hell is your problem?¡±


    The anger in his voice makes my rage falter for a moment. ¡°Let¡¯s get one thing straight, Joe. You are not here to tell me what to do. You¡¯re here to help, and what happenedst night will not happen again.¡±


    A small smirk pulls at the edge of his mouth. ¡°You kissed me back.¡±


    My teeth grind together so loudly that I¡¯m sure he can hear it. ¡°It will not happen again.¡±


    ¡°Whatever you say, hon.¡± He grins at me again to let me know that he doesn¡¯t take anything I say seriously.


    This is going to be a fucking problem. I don¡¯t know what he sees in me and why, but I¡¯m definitely not interested in him. He¡¯s just a thug. A mobster. I don¡¯t associate with fucking mobsters.


    It doesn¡¯t help that he keeps staring at me with that nk face. He¡¯s a fucking robot. No emotion whatsoever.


    Then I notice two duffel bags sitting on either side of his feet. They¡¯re huge, ck bags.Content provided by N?velDrama.Org.


    ¡°Do I even want to know what¡¯s inside those?¡±


    He kicks one with his foot. ¡°Cash. Jack needs to put this money through the casino.¡± Suddenly, his voice rises in volume. ¡°Which is why we need those fucking ounts opened as soon as possible.¡±


    Moneyundering.


    I can¡¯t speak. There¡¯s a noise outside my office, the sound of someoneughing, and I flinch horribly.


    ¡°This is why you have to listen to what I say.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have to do anything you say,¡± I explode.


    He¡¯s on me in a sh. Joe gets up and two stridester, he stands over my chair and I¡¯m fighting to get out. A terrifying look is on his face before he bends slightly and takes hold of my hair. His fingers dig inside painfully and wrench hard. I yelp as pain smarts over my skull, and then he bends my neck over the head of my chair as if he¡¯s about to slit my throat. His breath hisses over my throat like a knife.


    ¡°Let¡¯s face it, sweetheart. I am here to tell you what to do, so I¡¯d appreciate it if you toned down the rudeness. I don¡¯t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to.¡±


    My vision clouds over with tears that I¡¯m too powerless to wipe away. They streak down my face instead. Why did you do this to me, Dad? Frustration from my job and grief over Dad¡¯s death mix together in a confusing blur. I can¡¯t tell what¡¯s what anymore, and Joe looks into my eyes without a shred of sympathy.


    ¡°I fucking hate all of you.¡±


    ¡°Do your fucking job. All I¡¯m trying to do is mine.¡±


    He lets go of my hair, his fingers sliding through the strands as he turns around briskly and walks back to his chair. My neck is still bent over the head of the chair. I stare at the ceiling as tears leak out of my eyes. My chest shakes with silent sobs as images of when they lowered Dad into the earth sh in front of my eyes.


    It¡¯s not fair.


    I wipe my face and pull myptop in front of me so that I don¡¯t have to look at him. I go through the list of ounts I have to reopen and make the necessary phone calls, reopening all of them as Joe listens silently. Then I m the lid down and re at the man lounging in the chair.


    ¡°There. Will you leave me alone now?¡±


    He merely looks up. ¡°You have a board meeting in five minutes.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I open myptop and look at my calendar. ¡°Fuck!¡± I stand up abruptly and Joe follows suit as I sprint across the room and yank open the door.


    Joe jogs at my side as I walk down the hall at a brisk pace. ¡°Why are you in such a hurry?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m the goddamn President of thepany!¡±


    ¡°Exactly. You can do whatever the fuck you want.¡±


    I make a frustrated sound as I tear around the corner. I yank open the doors to the conference room and catch Nathan¡¯s beady look, and Jessica¡¯s smirk-wait, what? Why is Jessica here? The rest of the board members smile at me when I enter the room.


    Chimes of ¡°Good morning!¡± echo around me and I murmur back in response, still flummoxed by Jessica¡¯s presence. Their eyes zero in on something over my shoulder, and I turn around toe face to face with Joe. Oh, right.


    ¡°Um-this is Joe DiFiore. He¡¯s a personal advisor and he¡¯ll be attending board meetings from now on. I apologize; I know that this is unusual.¡±


    I recognize Mr. ckwell from the funeral. He nods his head. ¡°Not at all.¡±


    It¡¯s much harder to face them when I know now that Dad was deceiving them by providing fraudulent financial reports.


    Nathan gives me an icy stare as we take our seats. We still haven¡¯t talked since that disastrous meeting at the attorney¡¯s office. It¡¯s clear from looking at his face that his opinion of me still hasn¡¯t changed. My insides squirm unpleasantly. I didn¡¯t want this.


    ¡°Marisa, the board convened today because there has been an offer from Lences Holdings to buy out thepany-¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I say in a loud voice, cutting him off. Jesus, the hair on the back of my neck rises as they all look at me. ¡°I¡¯m not interested in selling thepany.¡±


    I¡¯m acutely aware that Joe sits beside me. If there¡¯s an inkling of a sale, I could get in a lot of trouble.


    ckwell raises an eyebrow. ¡°We¡¯ve received a very generous offer. Are you sure you don¡¯t want to hear the details? Your father was considering selling thepany before he passed away, that¡¯s why I bring it up.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m positive,¡± I say in a firm voice.


    ¡°I¡¯d like to put it to a vote.¡± My brother¡¯s cool voice cuts through mine and the blue eyes seem to stab at me from across the room.


    Goddamn it, Nathan. You don¡¯t know what you¡¯re doing.


    ¡°No.¡±


    Jessica¡¯s face looks puffy and tired, as if she spent the night drinking. She lifts her head, a defiant gleam shining through her eyes. ¡°Yes.¡±


    What the fuck?


    My hands balled into fists, I watch as Nathan gives a hissing ¡°yes¡± without a moment¡¯s hesitation. I re at both of them and Jessica blushes pink and looks away. The rest of the board votes negatively, and I try to savor my triumph over the bitterness I feel over Nathan.


    My hands tremble over the table. ¡°If that¡¯s all, can we adjourn?¡±


    ¡°Certainly.¡±


    Chairs scrape back as people stand up, and Nathan stands up stiffly, walking past me without a word. I follow him outside, determined to talk. My heart pounds as I chase him in the hall. He seems determined to ignore me forever.


    ¡°Nathan, we need to talk. I don¡¯t understand why you¡¯re trying to rope Jessica into this.¡±


    He whirls around finally and I stumble backwards from the wrath radiating from his pores. I can almost smell it-a harsh metallic smell that reminds me of blood. ¡°She has just as much of a stake in thispany as I do.¡±


    My stomach hardens. ¡°She¡¯s never had the slightest interest in thepany. You¡¯re trying to bend her ear. What kinds of promises have you made her? This is our legacy, and I¡¯m not going to sell!¡±


    His lip shakes. ¡°Correction, it¡¯s your legacy.¡±


    I recoil from the spite in his voice. ¡°It¡¯s not my fault Dad chose me. It hasn¡¯t exactly been a pic, you know.¡±


    ¡°Oh, next you¡¯re going to say that I should be d Dad didn¡¯t make me the owner? Fuck him and fuck you!¡± He yells in my face, flecks of spit spraying me.


    I look around. People are gathered down the hall, watching us. My cheeks burn and I tug him into my office.


    He ms the door shut and rounds on me, and I have a vivid, visceral recollection of him just like this when we were younger. Nausea creeps up my throat as he approaches me.


    ¡°Give me your shares, and I¡¯ll let this go.¡±


    My heart lodges somewhere in my throat, choking me. ¡°N-no! I¡¯m not going to do that!¡±


    ¡°Then we¡¯re going to have a fucking problem. I deserved this, not you. I worked for this, not you! It should have been me!¡±


    The volume of his voice vibrates the walls of my chest. It¡¯s like a force exploding outward, and I flinch from the waves of destruction, but I hold my ground, however shakily. ¡°I am not seven years old anymore. You can¡¯t bully me. Dad found me a better candidate for the job, so just deal with it.¡±


    ¡°I will fucking kill you!¡±


    Nothing could have prepared me for the mad look in his eyes, his cool hands suddenly attached to my throat, mming my body against the wall with a deadly confidence as if he had done it hundreds of times before. I look into his eyes, pleading for him to stop, to remember that I¡¯m his sister, but there¡¯s nothing but hatred inside them.


    There¡¯s a loud noise and suddenly Nathan¡¯s hands fly off me as if he was burned. He holds his hands up as Joe stands in the doorway, his eyes wide with shock.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t do anything-just-I didn¡¯t mean-¡± The babble of excuses I¡¯ve heard a million times before rattle from his mouth. Nathan tries to smile at Joe, to win him over like he won so many others, but Joe isn¡¯t buying it.


    The door ms and I grasp my neck, rubbing my sore throat. Nathan attempts to leave the room, but Joe grabs him by his blond hair and ms him face-first into the wall.


    ¡°What the fuck-ah!¡±


    I¡¯ve never seen this violent side of Joe. His whole face contorts with fury and he looks at Nathan as if he is the lowest form of life on Earth, like he¡¯s subhuman. He grinds Nathan¡¯s face into the wall, pinning his arms behind him.


    ¡°You think you¡¯re fucking slick, don¡¯t you?¡± he growls near Nathan¡¯s ear. ¡°Beating on your own sister?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t beat her! Get the fuck off me!¡±


    ¡°Joe, stop it!¡±


    ¡°Do it again, and you¡¯re dead.¡±


    ¡°Joe!¡±


    He lets Nathan go with a shove, who res at both of us with deep disgust.


    ¡°Who the fuck is this?¡± His voice shakes with betrayal and outrage.


    ¡°I¡¯m the guy who just stopped you from strangling your sister.¡±


    Nathan regards him for a moment and then turns his back and leaves out the door. Joe grabs the handle and opens the door to run after him, but I m it shut.


    Joe¡¯s face turns towards me, hissing. ¡°Marisa-¡±


    ¡°Please.¡± I take his hand and yank him away from the door. ¡°Please, don¡¯t. He¡¯s my brother.¡±


    I don¡¯t know why I¡¯m defending him. Maybe I¡¯m fucking terrified of him, I don¡¯t know. Maybe I don¡¯t want to see any violence inflicted on him, even if he¡¯s a prick who deserves it. Already, my mind is making excuses for him. He didn¡¯t mean it-he was upset. Anyone would be upset. I squeeze my eyes shut as tears build up inside them and Joe¡¯s hand turns in mine so that he¡¯s holding my hand.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care who he is. He was way out of line.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t, all right?¡± I spit out, my whole body shaking. Tears leak out of my eyes and I almost jump at the feeling of his hand on my cheek. His thumb wipes away my tears and my breaths instantly calm. Why is he doing this?


    His widened eyes stare down at me. Surprise and something else that might be pity shines through them. ¡°Listen, I get it. I¡¯m Italian, too. I get that family is important to you, but there are limits.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll make things worse. I don¡¯t want him going after anyone else.¡±


    Like Jessica.


    ¡°Marisa, I get that, but not only a minute ago, he had his hands wrapped around your throat. Don¡¯t you care about your own safety?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t pretend you care. You would do the same thing if Jack gave you an order.¡±


    His hand falls from my cheek and hisforting warmth disappears. His stare drops to the floor and he clenches his fists. When he looks back up at me, his gaze is filled with that haunted, sad look. I feel it like a sword running through my body.


    Joe picks up the duffel bags still lying on the floor and leaves out of my office without another word. What I said must have upset him. Good. He has no right saying that shit, when he probably does the same thing every day.


    So why then do I feel so bad about it?

 3-10

    JOE


    There¡¯s an old park bench in the distance, surrounded by misty white light. There¡¯s no ground, sky, or horizon. I¡¯m in a white box. Where is this?


    My footsteps make no noise as I make my way towards the only fixture as a hooded shadow walks beside me. He wears a fedora and a long, dark trench coat. Tufts of dark hair peek out from under his hat, but when I try to see his face, he turns away.


    ¡°No, you mustn¡¯t.¡±


    A ringing sound fills my ears. Something isn¡¯t right. ¡°Who are you?¡±


    ¡°Come.¡± His voice echoes in my ears.


    That¡¯s all he says as he strides forward, always at my side, matching my pace exactly. I find myself trusting him, but I don¡¯t know why.


    A woman sits on the chipped park bench.


    Janice.


    My sister.


    My chest feels like it¡¯s caving in. I sprint towards the bench, my legs heavier than normal. She¡¯s dressed in the clothes she died in. ck skinny jeans and an overge t-shirt. Her long brown hair is parted perfectly in the middle. At the sight of me, she smiles. It¡¯s just like how I remember.


    This is a dream. No, don¡¯t think that.


    ¡°Janice? Where are we?¡±


    She looks around, looking just as oblivious as I am. Her shoulder lifts in a small shrug, but she doesn¡¯t speak.


    I bend down as the man stands beside me like a raven. Strangely, I don¡¯t mind his presence. ¡°Janice, are you okay here? Are you happy?¡±


    She beams at me and nods. Why can¡¯t she speak to me?


    I look around the ce. It¡¯s just white light, endless whiteness. Janice extends aforting hand to me. I try to touch her, but I can¡¯t. My limbs are too heavy.


    ¡°Come back to me. I miss you so much.¡±


    She shakes her head.


    Of course she can¡¯t.


    The man in the trench coatys a heavy, warm hand on my shoulder. ¡°Let her go. She can¡¯t ascend to Paradise because you won¡¯t let her go.¡±


    The bench disappears and I¡¯m left alone in the noiseless white. ¡°Janice? JANICE! JANICE, COME BACK!¡±


    But my voice doesn¡¯t make a sound. I¡¯m gasping at the air.


    No, I don¡¯t like this. Get me out. OUT! GET ME OUT!


    I sit bolt upright in my bed, the yelling from my mouth scaring the shit out of me. A strange sense of vertigo rolls through my head. It¡¯s like I plummeted several stories from the dream back into my bed. The sheets stick to my mmy skin and I peel them away from my warm body, my heart still thumping hard.


    Fuck.


    It¡¯s not like I haven¡¯t had nightmares about Janice, but this one was one of the worst. I can¡¯t stand it. I can¡¯t take this anymore.


    The empty apartment rebounds my screams and I think about the gun hidden in my drawer. How nice would it fucking be to take the easy way out. To blow out these thoughts out of my skull along with my life. I¡¯ve had enough of this empty, hollow nothingness.


    Suicide is not regarded kindly by the family. Jack probably wouldn¡¯t give my mother jack shit if I offed myself. They wouldugh at my corpse at the funeral. What kind of man kills himself over his dead sister?


    My phone rings beside the bed and I snatch it immediately, afraid of where my thoughts are headed. It¡¯s Vince.


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a package I need you to pick up.¡±


    I need to collect money from someone.


    ¡°Who and where?¡±


    ¡°Frank Moretti. It¡¯s on 698 Sunset, in Queens. He may need some persuading.¡±


    I¡¯ll need to beat the shit out of him.


    ¡°All right. When do you need this?¡±


    ¡°Tonight. Meet me at my ce.¡±


    The phone dies in my hands.


    d for a reason to get out of bed, I slip out and pad into the bathroom to take a shower. Just thinking about how I¡¯m going to be raining my fists on some fucking asshole¡¯s body makes me dete. Janice never approved of my job. When I became a made guy, we had a celebration at my house. Everyone was there-all the captains in the family, Jack, my mother, but not Janice. She was furious.


    ¡°What you do for a living is horrible. You¡¯re just a thug, Joey. A goddamn piece of muscle for Jack.¡±


    It¡¯s not just about beating down people who won¡¯t pay up. When I was captain, I organized heists. I tracked shipments of expensive suits or designer shoes-I¡¯d give a few to my ma. Sometimes, I¡¯d help Vince with his card games before he became underboss. And of course, there would be hits. When I did my first guy, I threw up right beside the body. Bits of his brains sshed on my shirt when I shot him. Disposing of the body is even worse. If it¡¯s a body Jack doesn¡¯t want to be found, then I usually use the electric saw at the pork sausage deli that Jack owns. You get used to it quickly. A lot faster than you¡¯d realize.


    I never dwelled on the morality of it all for very long. The only people I killed were connected. If you go into business with mafia, and you fuck with us, prepare to get clipped. They deserved it, each and every one of them. A few made the grave error of insulting a made guy or his girlfriend, fucking an ex, or touching a current me. Yeah, there¡¯s a lot of that. It can get out of hand, I¡¯ll admit it.


    I never had a crisis of conscience about it, but Janice hated it. Half the guys who grew up in the neighborhood entered the life. Those who weren¡¯t full-blooded Italians became low-level street thugs. Associates. I joined because it was a fast, easy way to get money and I hated school. They made me feel like I belonged. Plus, I never had any brothers so it was nice to be surrounded by them. It felt like a family.


    Twisting the taps, I shiver as the cold air strikes my body.


    Family that¡¯ll get rid of me if they sense an iota of weakness.


    I was naive to think that Jack cared about anything other than money.


    * * *


    The sonovabitch kneels prostrate in front of me like a man begging for ughter. I rip my fist across his jaw and he barely sways on his knees.


    Fuck, I¡¯m not into this today.


    I stand in a shitty, run-down apartment with broken light fixtures and shards of ss all over the crappy carpet. It has the stale smell of old farts and my eyes water from just five minutes of this.


    Stupid piece of shit.


    I rake my hands through my hair and give a violent kick to his couch.


    ¡°Come on, for Christ¡¯s sake! I¡¯m going to get the money from you anyway. Why do you wanna make me do this?¡±


    His coked-out eyes widen. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about!¡±


    A sh of irritation makes me want to hit him again. Why do they all do this? ¡°I¡¯m here for a reason, and I won¡¯t go until you give me the money you owe Jack.¡±


    I don¡¯t want to beat the shit out of him. I really don¡¯t. All the heart left me after the other day, when that girl told me I was no better than her sister-beating piece of shit brother, and she¡¯s right, isn¡¯t she?


    I still would have never hit my sister. I didn¡¯t tell her that. I never got to say that, and it¡¯s bugging the hell out of me. I¡¯ve never doubted myself this much.


    There¡¯s nothing in me that wants to hurt her, but I¡¯ve a job to do.


    Maybe there¡¯s a way around it. Maybe you can get her to like you.


    All I know is that ever since that day, I haven¡¯t been able to sleep because I keep thinking about what she said and the way she looked at me. Like I was scum. I¡¯m not. I¡¯m a good guy who does bad things out of necessity. I don¡¯t enjoy it.


    Okay, fine. That¡¯s a stretch. I¡¯m not a good man, but I¡¯m not that bad. Right?


    The junkie sways on his knees from vertigo. The temptation to let this guy¡¯s nonpayment slide is irresistible, but I can¡¯t do it. There¡¯s no room for mercy in this business. I muster up all the rage I feel over Janice¡¯s death and I channel it into a ck ball in my chest. It burns my insides, and then it¡¯s easy to picture him as the devil. My footshes out, kicking his abdomen. It connects with his ribs in a sickening thud. He cries out and falls to his side, and I kick him over and over again until his voice rises into a scream.


    ¡°Couch! It¡¯s in the couch!¡±


    The junkie cries as he rolls on the filthy floor.


    ¡°Was that so fucking hard?¡± I bellow into his face. Shaking my head, I step over his body and flip over the cushions, unzipping them all to find stacks of cash inside. I find more cash than what¡¯s owed to me, but because the prick tried to lie to me, I take it all.


    ¡°Next time, don¡¯t fucking lie.¡±


    He nods, face pressed against the floor as I make a sound of disgust and leave the shitty apartment. The dark cloud follows me even after I¡¯ve left the stench of that ce.


    I¡¯m supposed to give the money to Vince, but I drive to my mother¡¯s house first. She lives in Long Ind in a nice, quiet suburb. She sits out in the front porch, a cigarette smoke trailing from her lips. She buries the cigarette in the overflowing ashtray as she sees me exit the car.


    ¡°Joseph!¡± Her bony arms reach out for me as I climb up the steps, and the stench of cigarettes overwhelms me as I give her a hug.


    ¡°Hi, Ma. How¡¯s it going?¡±


    Ma gives me a feeble shrug and a quivering smile. Between the two of us, she took the death of my sister the hardest. She hit the bottle a lot, and I had to pay for her rehab. Now she¡¯s chain-smoking, but at least she¡¯s sober. It still makes me upset to see the lines in her face.


    ¡°Did you go to the doctor this week?¡±


    She makes a nomittal sound and I wince as I hear her deep voice croak. ¡°Yeah, I went.¡±


    ¡°And?¡±


    She sighs under my stare. ¡°Doc says I have early stages of emphysema.¡±


    I slump into the chair next to her, heaviness in my chest. Fuck. ¡°You¡¯ve got to take care of yourself, Ma. Here, I brought this for you.¡± I reach into my pocket and give her the extra money I pinched from that junkie.


    ¡°I can¡¯t ept this, it¡¯s too much!¡±


    My hands close around hers, forcing her to take the cash. ¡°Just take it, Ma. I had a really good week.¡±


    She stares at the wad of money in her hands. To my astonishment, I see tears beading on her eyshes. One drops on her hands.


    The hell just happened? ¡°What¡¯s the matter?¡±Belongs ? to N?velDrama.Org.


    Her lip quivers and she carefully avoids my gaze. ¡°Nothing, I¡¯m just thinking about your sister.¡±


    The mention of my sister brings back everything I¡¯m trying to avoid. I make a face and my mother notices.


    ¡°I can¡¯t help it,¡± she says in a small voice.


    Her voice wavers unsteadily. My heart feels sluggish, as though it pounds with msses running through the arteries.


    ¡°She was so young.¡±


    I can¡¯t do this. I can barely handle my own thoughts.


    Ma looks at me with an extremely wounded expression as I stand up.


    ¡°I-I¡¯ve got to go.¡±


    ¡°But you just got here!¡±


    The pain of her loneliness strikes me hard, almost as if she threw a heavy object at the back of my head.


    I¡¯m lonely, too. It shames me to admit it.


    I slide into my car and shut the door, but I have nowhere to go, really. There¡¯s no one I can call my friend. Marisa¡¯s tear-stained face shes through my mind again.


    I am not a terrible person.


    Fuck it. I¡¯ll just go see Vince.


    I start the car and leave my mother¡¯s house, driving towards Vince¡¯s ce in Manhattan. It¡¯s always a bitch to go there because there¡¯s hardly any parking, but what can I do? He calls the shots.


    It¡¯s Friday night and the Upper West Side is already packed with people. I park the car and take my time towards Vince¡¯s ce, strolling among dozens of happy, oblivious people who I¡¯d love to strangle. I shove my hands deep inside my pockets so that my hands are preupied. It would be nice to get into a fight and break open someone¡¯s skin with my fists.


    Why am I so pissed off?


    It¡¯s because of that girl. She really got under my skin.


    I shrug off thoughts of Marisa as I take the elevator to Vince¡¯s apartment, trying to bury my intense dislike for the man before I see him. I knock hard on his door and it opens up to reveal a pretty woman, her face halfway done with makeup.


    Must be his wife.


    ¡°Hey, I¡¯m here to see Vince.¡±


    She smiles at me and then yells over her shoulder. ¡°Vince! Joe¡¯s here!¡±


    I step into the rich motherfucker¡¯s apartment, my eye wandering all over the deep blue-gray walls, the dark wooden floorboards, gleaming in the setting sun.


    ¡°Can I get you anything?¡± she asks me as we wait for Vince.


    ¡°Nah, thanks.¡±


    Vince appears in the hallway in a suit and he gives me a grin. He wraps an arm around his wife¡¯s waist and gives her a kiss on her head. ¡°Joe and I have to talk. I¡¯ll be ready in a few minutes.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± She beams at him before turning around and giving me a small wave. ¡°Nice to see you, Joe.¡±


    He watches her disappear into the bathroom with a small smile that looks entirely out of character for Vince.


    I adjust my face when Vince turns back to me, the happy look gone from his face. He gestures his head to the office, and I follow him inside. It¡¯s a dark, richly decorated study with a varnished, oak desk that¡¯s syed with textbooks. His lean body rests against the desk as I reach inside my jacket to pull out the envelope of cash.


    ¡°Did he give you any trouble?¡± Vince asks as he takes it from me to count the cash.


    Asshole still doesn¡¯t trust me.


    ¡°A little.¡±


    He stuffs the envelope in his jacket and his dark eyes flick towards me again. ¡°I heard about you visiting that restaurant.¡±


    Fuck you, Nicky.


    The dark, forbidding look in his eyes incenses me. I fold my arms across my chest. ¡°So?¡±


    He reaches out with a long arm and smacks the side of my head. Heat zes over the skin where he struck my face.


    ¡°What the fuck is wrong with you?¡± He hisses between his teeth. ¡°Why can¡¯t you let this go?¡±


    My ribs feel like they¡¯re going to break. I step forward and snarl in Vincent¡¯s face. ¡°Fuck you. She¡¯s my sister. How would you like it if something like that happened to your wife? Would you let it go?¡±


    The heat in his eyes drops somewhat and I set my jaw in grim satisfaction. I turn around to leave, but he catches my arm.


    ¡°I¡¯ve lost people close to me, too. I have sympathy for you, I really do, but you¡¯re taking this way too fucking far. Leave the guy alone. He didn¡¯t do anything, anyway.¡±


    ¡°An eye for an eye.¡±


    ¡°If there wasn¡¯t such a big news story, I¡¯d let you kill the prick, but we can¡¯t afford to get you arrested. Jesus, be smart.¡±


    This has nothing to do with the family, or being smart, or whatever the fuck they care about. It¡¯s about justice.


    I pace in front of Vince, moving back and forth to keep my legs busy, anything to keep me from lunging at him. He watches me; his eyes trained on me like a cat¡¯s precise gaze.


    ¡°I know that you¡¯re still pissed at me for taking your position away, but that doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯ll never get it back. You need to show me that you¡¯ve moved on.¡±


    I¡¯ll never fucking move on, you stupid fuck.


    Vince stands up straighter. ¡°Go out with Nicky tonight. He¡¯s at The Tangled Vine. It¡¯s only a few blocks from here. I¡¯d go with, but I¡¯m going out with my wife.¡±


    ¡°No thanks,¡± I say coolly.


    I¡¯d rather get kicked in the balls than hang out with that prick.


    Vince grabs the scruff of my neck and pulls me close enough so that I feel his warm breath on my face. ¡°I¡¯m not asking you. You¡¯re fucking going,¡± he says in a quiet, deadly voice. ¡°You¡¯ll hang out with Nicky and have a good time. You¡¯ll talk to some girls and getid, and maybe that will convince you to move from this self-destructive path.¡±


    It almost makes me want tough. My lips pull into a smirk and Vince¡¯s expression softens.


    ¡°Whatever.¡± This is ridiculous.


    ¡°I mean it, Joe. You¡¯re going to get yourself whacked if you aren¡¯t careful. The boss has already lost faith in you. Don¡¯t put it past him, or any of us.¡±


    That sounds like a threat. I bristle under Vince¡¯s fierce gaze.


    Go ahead and fucking try.

 3-11

    The Tangled Vine is an upscale, frumpy wine bar where women like to prowl for rich sugar daddies. I hang outside, gritting my teeth against the crowd of well-dressed people inside. My insides fight between my will to live and my contempt for small talk and crowds. Nicky is at the edge of the bar, chatting up a leggy woman wearing a sequined cocktail dress. Thest thing I want is to hang out with him, especially when he bbed to Vince. Anyway, I¡¯ll just be a cock-block for him. I tend to avoid ces like this.


    If I don¡¯t go, I know that it¡¯ll get back to Vince.


    My breath billows out in a cloud in front of me as I make my decision and grab the brass handle of the bar. Squeezing inside, I make my way toward Nicky. I p his shoulder and he turns around with a delighted grin. There¡¯s an unupied stool next to him. It¡¯s loud as fuck and I want to leave immediately.


    ¡°Sit down, you crazy fuck.¡± He motions towards the broad beside him. ¡°This is my friend, Joe.¡±


    The blonde extends a manicured hand towards me, which I shake briefly. ¡°How you doin¡¯, hon?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m doing great, thanks. I¡¯m Karissa.¡±


    She beams a little too brightly at me and inwardly Iugh. I¡¯m not the slightest bit interested.


    I knew I would be a cock-block.


    Nicky¡¯s small frame shifts towards me. ¡°What are you doing here?¡± he shouts over the noise.


    Vince thinks I need to hang out with you.


    ¡°Vince thought that I should see you. I was delivering a package at his ce.¡±


    The blonde scoops one of her friends out of thin air, it seems, and shoves her towards me. Ah, fuck. She¡¯s just as tall and has a pretty smile, but she doesn¡¯t really do it for me. Maybe I ought to fuck her anyway.


    She smiles shyly. ¡°Hi, I¡¯m Marnie.¡±


    I shake her hand. ¡°How you doin¡¯?¡±


    She slides over the seat next to me and Nicky turns his attention back towards Karissa, who keeps ncing at me. Burying my smile, I order a rum and coke.


    ¡°So what do you do?¡±


    ¡°Unemployed,¡± I lie. I figure it¡¯s the quickest way to get rid of this broad.


    Her face falls slightly. ¡°Oh, I see. I work in sales. Well, I sell makeup.¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡± I¡¯m not remotely interested, but I take arge gulp of the drink while I listen to her prattle on and on about shit I don¡¯t care about. The alcohol burns down my stomach, making me pleasantly warm.


    I endure nearly a half hour of this, and then she stands up. I¡¯m so bored that I want to cry. Perhaps she¡¯s noticed mypleteck of interest, finally.


    ¡°Listen, I¡¯ve got to go, but let me give you my number. You can call me anytime!¡±


    My head pounds with the sounds of dozens of people shouting over the booming lounge music. I look into her hopeful face and eyes and shake my head. ¡°That¡¯s not going to happen.¡±


    Her face blooms with color. ¡°Why not?¡±


    The tone of her voice attracts Nicky¡¯s attention.


    ¡°Because I¡¯m not interested in you.¡±


    ¡°W-what do you mean?¡±


    Her face pales and I feel a stab of guilt for making her feel bad, but it was her fault for being so boring.


    ¡°It means exactly what I said: I¡¯m not interested.¡±


    She twists her mouth as the full weight of my words settle on her. ¡°Well, fuck you!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d rather not.¡±


    I shrug my shoulders as she lets out an indignant sigh and tugs on the girl hanging around Nicky.


    ¡°We need to leave!¡± she shrieks into the girl¡¯s ear.


    ¡°Why, what¡¯s the problem?¡± Nick turns towards her, all smiles and charm.


    She gives him an angry look. ¡°Your friend is a fucking asshole!¡±


    I snort into my ss as Nicky¡¯s face fallsically. The girl-Pauline or Marnie or whatever the fuck her name is-drags Nicky¡¯s broad away, who shrugs hopelessly at him.


    Nicky ms his fists on the bar and stares at me. ¡°What the fuck¡¯s the matter with you? You cock-blocking asshole!¡±


    I drain the ss and smile at his furious face. ¡°She was boring me to death.¡±


    Nicky looks like he wants to yell, but he shakes his head with a harshugh. ¡°Jesus, man. You give Vinny a run for his money.¡±


    The rest of the night is spent with me steadily getting drunker and waving off any women who try to talk to me. Nicky¡¯s surrounded by two more women and I have no interest in staying another hour longer. The ce is packed with people, but I feel remarkably isted. The incessant noise and the music drill into my brain, and I want to scream back at them, all of them, to shut the fuck up.


    I don¡¯t even bother saying goodbye to Nick; so far I¡¯ve failed miserably as a wingman. I pay my tab and leave the bar shakily. Too drunk to drive home, my feet pound the streets of the Upper West Side. My soul zes as I walk past dozens of people and I feel horribly empty, despite all the drinks I had. All kinds of women smile at me as I walk by, but the hole in my chest swallows them. They¡¯re nice for a brief moment, and then they drop into a furnace and be all ck and shriveled. It¡¯s like I¡¯m locked in a soundless, padded room where no one hears my screams, nor does anyone care.


    Marisa.


    Just thinking about her freezes my chest.


    I want to talk to her. I want to convince her that she¡¯s wrong.


    Jack gave me a list of ces she frequents. We¡¯ve been watching her closely for quite some time, and I know that one of the bars she likes to go to is on the east side. I stomp down the subway steps and take the train across the city to the east side, hoping that she won¡¯t make a goddamn scene when she sees me.


    It¡¯s a low-lit ce and from where I stand outside, I see her in there, surrounded by a few of her friends. She stirs her cocktail with a straw, looking morose. I almost lose my nerve to go in there, but then I see a man my age attempting to get her attention, and I shove open the doors. It takes me a few seconds for me to move through the crowd of people. Marisa sits at the bar, dressed in a ck cocktail dress that clings to her curves. For once, her honey-blonde hair is down and it spills all over her shoulders in slight waves. She looks beautiful and I feel a fresh wave of remorse for bringing so much pain into her life.


    I slide up against the jackass trying to hit on her and hiss into his ear. ¡°Get lost, asshole. That¡¯s my girl you¡¯re talking to.¡±


    He¡¯s a thin, balding man who nces up with irritation shing over his face, but it melts away when he sees my face. ¡°Fine. Whatever.¡±


    He gets up and leaves as Marisa looks at me with her mouth slightly open in shock. Her girlfriends eye me with interest. I lean against the bar and give them a wide smile. ¡°Ladies, do you mind excusing us for a moment? I need to talk with Marisa.¡±


    At the sound of my voice, they look at one another andugh. ¡°Of course, we don¡¯t!¡± They titter excitedly and I wait patiently as one of them hisses something in Marisa¡¯s ear that makes her blush. The girlfriend gives me a huge, encouraging grin. ¡°Take your time!¡±


    I smile back and give them a satisfied nod as they move away. Marisa looks at me like she wants to tear me apart with her bare hands, but my heart pounds with being so close to her.


    I want her.


    ¡°So I¡¯m your girl now?¡± she says in a voice trembling with anger or amusement-I¡¯m not sure.


    A smirk widens my face. I hadn¡¯t meant for her to overhear that. ¡°I had to take care of that jerk-off somehow. You looked bored, anyway.¡±


    ¡°How did you even find me?¡±


    I say nothing and just give her a wink, which makes her face flush. Her eyes are all over me as I drag the stool outboriously and sit down, my knees facing her body. The bartender catches my eye and meanders over.


    ¡°Get me a vodka tonic and another one of those,¡± I gesture towards her ss.


    ¡°Right away.¡±


    Marisa still looks vaguely irritated. ¡°To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?¡± she asks in a slightly less abrasive voice.


    I lean on the bar and hook my feet on the bottom of her bar stool. I¡¯m close enough to smell the perfume wafting from her neck. It¡¯s a seductive scent that makes my eyelids feel heavy. Now that I¡¯m here, I feel a bit embarrassed. God, what is it about this chick?


    The bartender slides the drinks towards me and I take a small sip of mine. It punches my brain, fogging my thoughts. She takes the ss I slide to her and manages a small smile for me.


    ¡°Mostly, I¡¯m here to hit on you.¡±


    She tilts her head up andughs, her eyes beaming at me. ¡°As if I want anything do to with you.¡±


    I lean in closer, watching how her eyes dte. I slide a finger across her bare knees, and her body freezes. There¡¯s heat emanating from her body. I can feel it.


    This girl wants me.


    ¡°Oh, not now, but you will.¡±


    Sheughs nervously; her cheeks still a pretty red color. ¡°How does that work?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a patient man.¡±


    Another nervous giggle leaves her mouth, and she takes another sip. ¡°You¡¯ll be waiting for a long, long time.¡±


    I doubt that.


    ¡°I¡¯ve also been thinking a lot about what you said the other day.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah?¡± she hides her smile behind her ss filled with amber liquid.


    ¡°What you said the other day really bothered me.¡±


    Her face is flushed with alcohol. She gives me a wavering smirk. ¡°Right.¡±


    The ss trembles in my fist and I lean close to her. Her lips part as her eyes widen slightly.


    ¡°I¡¯m not the kind of guy who goes around threatening women, all right? I would nevery a hand on a girl.¡±


    ¡°But you did.¡±


    Fuck.


    Her words add a huge dent to the armor I¡¯ve built up around myself.


    ¡°I just needed to scare you a little to get you to do what Jack wants.¡± I wince when I hear how bad that sounds.


    Herughter cuts into me. ¡°Do you want a fucking trophy?¡±


    I know she likes me too, despite her tough-girl attitude. If she didn¡¯t, she wouldn¡¯t lean in to hear me talk, and she wouldn¡¯t be ying with her hair and looking right at me. Marisa wets her lips and I imagine her tongue ying inside my mouth. She¡¯s giving me every signal that she¡¯s into me.


    ¡°Why are you giving me such hard time?¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯re full of shit,¡± she says, slurring her words. ¡°You are just using me to get what you want. You all are.¡± She tips back her head, and swallows her drink, but keeps her eyes on me. Her foot bumps into my leg when she shifts in her seat. Goddamn, just the feeling of her bare skin on my cks is enough to make my cock throb.


    ¡°My job is to keep you from doing something stupid that¡¯ll get you killed. I¡¯m not benefiting from this whole thing. To be frank, I don¡¯t give a shit about the casino. I¡¯m just doing my job.¡±


    ¡°Your job?¡± she snorts. ¡°What exactly is that?¡±


    ¡°I do whatever Jack wants me to do.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re hispdog. I see.¡±


    I let some of the grittiness fall into my voice. ¡°Are you trying to piss me off?¡±


    She shifts in her seat and lowers her eyes.


    Good. She looks guilty.


    Her hand strays close to my knee and I reach out to take it. It¡¯s like a torch. The moment our hands touch, her body shudders. I squeeze her hand.


    ¡°There¡¯s no difference between our jobs, Marisa. You did whatever your father wanted, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    Smoldering blue eyes look at me. ¡°My job is legal.¡±


    ¡°Hardly.¡±


    Suddenly, her face falls and I feel like aplete dick. I stroke her hand with my thumb, the rough pad grazing over her soft skin.


    Marisa recovers quickly and lets out anotherugh, but she looks flustered. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I believe you, but I¡¯m too drunk to argue right now. I don¡¯t want to talk about the fucking casino.¡± She gives me a wide smile, which is at odds with her watery gaze, and my heart constricts. ¡°I¡¯d rather hear you whisper sweet nothings in my ear.¡±


    The heat of all these bodies pressed in the bar, the alcohol flushing my skin, and the warmth stirring my cock is a bit too much to bear. I take a strand of hair dangling over her tits and curl it around my finger. ¡°I can do that with you at my ce. Or yours, if you prefer.¡±


    Those eyes practically scream for me to fuck her. If she didn¡¯t want to fuck me, she would have left a long time ago. Instead, color blooms on her cheeks and her hand trembles inside mine.


    Her other hand grazes my thigh. Jesus Christ, it¡¯s like electricity running through her fingers. She leans in, and I have a clear view of her tits. She leans on the hand clenching my thigh, which is dangerously close to my dick. It¡¯s incredibly warm and I imagine what it would feel like without clothes.


    ¡°That¡¯s very forward. I¡¯m not sure I like that.¡±


    ¡°More forward than your hand almost touching my cock? Hey, I¡¯m notining.¡±


    Definitely not. I can feel it stiffening in my pants, and it¡¯s a bit ufortable.


    She squeezes my thigh, giving me a wicked grin. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen you look so happy.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d be happier if you were naked and in my bed.¡±


    Her face burns a deep shade of magenta. ¡°You know, did it ever ur to you that women don¡¯t like to be talked to like that?¡±


    Says the girl with a hand an inch away from my cock, which is getting harder by the minute. Man this is fun. It¡¯s been so long since I¡¯ve even attempted to flirt with a girl, and I forgot how fun it is.


    ¡°It has, but I know for a fact that you like it.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah? How?¡±


    I can¡¯t wait any longer. She¡¯s much too close, and all I have to do is lean in slightly. I take her head in my hands and bring her face closer to mine. She breathes in suddenly, her nostrils ring, and then I kiss her. Her soft lips kiss me back hungrily, her hands reaching inside my jacket to wrap around my back. Her fingers squeeze my back muscles and she sighs into my mouth, making my cock stiffen in my pants. God, it feels amazing. The skin on her neck is as smooth as silk, just like her mouth, which responds so eagerly to me. I fucking want her.


    We break apart and a real smile twitches across my face. I could fuck her right now.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to hurt you, Marisa. Believe me. I¡¯d much rather fuck you.¡±


    You did not just say that. Jesus.


    For a moment, Marisa quite looks like she wants to give me a p, but sheughs and squeezes my back again. ¡°Well, at least you¡¯re honest.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the alcohol.¡±


    Sheughs, the bell-like sound making me feel lighter than I have felt in ages. I want more. I want to scoop her onto myp.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know why I like you. Maybe I¡¯m just drunk.¡±


    ¡°You are tipsy, but you like me.¡±


    ¡°I do?¡±


    I smile. ¡°Yeah.¡±


    Her small hand curls around my tie and tugs it sharply. My head dips down and she catches my lips. I almost gasp when her tongue slips into my mouth.


    Fuck me.


    I grab her waist and pull her onto myp, not caring about anything else than this woman making my dick so hard that it¡¯s painful. She smoothes her palms over my chest and bites my lip, and I groan into her mouth. Both of our bodies are zing hot and I want to tear her dress from her body, and run my tongue over her every curve. Goddamn.


    We break apart and Marisa seems to be fighting with my shirt. She wants to shove her hands underneath. I take her hands in mine andugh softly, kissing her cheek.


    ¡°You¡¯reing home with me,¡± I whisper in her ear.


    Her body vibrates with a delicious shiver and her eyes slide to mine sluggishly. ¡°I-I don¡¯t know.¡±


    She¡¯sing home with me.


    I p a handful of cash on the bar counter and slide off the stool with her. Immediately, she looks around for her friends and waves to them. ¡°Bye!¡±


    After they wave back, we head towards the exit. I hold open the door for her and she totters outside, nearly stumbling on her heels.


    She¡¯s way too drunk. Well, fuck. There goes my ns.


    Marisa turns around with her arms outstretched, smiling at me in a naughty,e-fuck-me vibe as she tries to walk backwards.


    ¡°Where¡¯s your car?¡± I ask her.


    Marisa shakes her head and clings to my side as I wrap an arm around her. ¡°Came on the subway.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take you home.¡±


    ¡°I thought we were going to your ce?¡±


    My cock stiffens in my pants and I squeeze her side. ¡°You¡¯re wasted. It¡¯s not going to happen.¡±


    We walk slowly to the metro. She gives me a frustrated sigh. ¡°Oh, please. Spare me your gentlemanly crap. Aren¡¯t you supposed to take advantage of me?¡±


    My chest shakes withughter. ¡°I told you that I¡¯m a good guy.¡±


    Marisa turns her blonde head to look at me thoughtfully. ¡°You keep saying that.¡±


    ¡°Maybe because it¡¯s true,¡± I say with a bit of an edge in my voice.


    She stops in the street and turns in my arms, staring up at me with wide eyes. ¡°No, it¡¯s not. None of us are good. What I¡¯m doing could get me locked up for a long time.¡±


    I hadn¡¯t thought of that. I¡¯ve always looked at it as a consequence of the business. Yeah, I won¡¯t lie to her, that¡¯s a possibility. It happens.N?velDrama.Org (C) content.


    But for a person who has lived straightedge their whole life-to be thrust into a life of crime, that must be overwhelming. Her whole body screams it. Her bottom lip shakes as she stares up at me, waiting for-what?


    ¡°You¡¯re just trying to survive, hon. We¡¯re all trying to survive.¡±


    Me especially.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make you a bad person, does it?¡± I trace the edge of her bottom lip and she blinks rapidly and looks away.


    ¡°I¡¯m so confused. My whole world¡¯s been turned upside down.¡±


    I felt like that when my sister died. Shit, I remember that she¡¯s still trying to deal with her dad¡¯s death. I take her hand in mine as she looks at me with a horrible, lost expression. I cup her cheek with my other hand.


    ¡°It¡¯s best to keep moving.¡±


    My hand drops from her face and I tug her hand, walking down the steps to the subway with her. We slide into the stic seats and her head falls on my shoulder, her blonde hair spilling all over my jacket. I look at our reflection in the ss across me, and a strange feeling runs through me. It¡¯s like seeing a ghost.


    When we get to my car, she curls up in the passenger seat like a cat. It¡¯s a pleasant, quiet drive, and every so often I nce at her darkened silhouette and wonder.


    She¡¯s still drunk when I walk her to her apartment, and she turns around with a determined air when we reach her door. Her small hands grab my tie again, but I hardly need any prompting to kiss her. Electricity shoots up my spine, when her soft lips brush against mine. My heart races and I can¡¯t stop myself from exploring her body with my hands. The tightness of her ck dress leaves little to the imagination and it¡¯s almost like she¡¯s naked in my arms, but it¡¯s not nearly the same as having a naked girl in yourp to y with. Marisa kisses me like she needs it-needs me. It¡¯s so goddamn hot.


    ¡°Come inside,¡± she whispers in a slight purr.


    Want to. Can¡¯t.


    I shake my head stiffly and try not to think about thest time I had sex, or what her tits would feel like in my hands. ¡°I don¡¯t fuck drunk chicks.¡±


    ¡°You could just sleep over. We don¡¯t have to do anything.¡±


    I pin my arms on either side of her head. ¡°If I go in there, I know I¡¯ll fuck you. I¡¯ve self-control, but not that much.¡±


    Not when a hot girl is practically throwing herself at me.


    Dude, shut up and just fuck her.


    ¡°You just sober up and think about it,¡± I say in a soft voice. ¡°If you still want my cock inside you, well, that can be arranged.¡±


    ¡°Shit,¡± she hisses, her face burning so brightly that it¡¯s like a beacon.


    I¡¯m not trying to be a rude bastard, but she turned me on and now my head is filled with all the things I¡¯d love to do to her body, and I can¡¯t help it-I haven¡¯t had sex in months. Suddenly I am vividly aware of that small fact.


    ¡°Joe,¡± she whispers, raking her hands up and down my chest. Her lips are slightly red from kissing me and just that alone makes my cock jump in my pants.


    I take her hands in mine and hold them away from me as a growl leaves my throat. ¡°I can¡¯t. I am really sorry, but I can¡¯t.¡±


    You¡¯re a fucking moron. Just fuck her!


    She shakes her head slightly. ¡°Why are you so-why are you doing this?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m supposed to watch out for you, remember?¡±


    Her eyes look overge as she stares up at me, suddenly fearful. ¡°Do you mean it?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, of course. Why? What¡¯s going on?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t ever leave me alone with him.¡±


    The way she says him leaves no doubt who it is. Her brother. That psycho. I get a cold, nauseating feeling in my throat whenever I think of him. I¡¯ve known guys like him and they never change. They just get better at covering their tracks.


    ¡°He scares me. He always has.¡±


    I run my knuckles along her jaw. ¡°I won¡¯t. Promise.¡±


    ¡°Tomorrow I¡¯m supposed to meet him for lunch. Can youe with me?¡±


    Of course I can, but that doesn¡¯t mean I can¡¯t y with her. ¡°What are you going to give me in return?¡±


    Her eyes widen. ¡°Um-you want money?¡±


    The hallway echoes with myughter. I shake my head. ¡°I don¡¯t want your money.¡±


    ¡°What, then?¡±


    ¡°You. I want you.¡±


    My hand wraps around her head and she gasps in pain as I grab her hair. My mouth descends over hers and she sighs into my mouth. It¡¯s like I¡¯ve just taken a hit of coke. My heart races forward, miles ahead. And then I reach around her back and grab her sweet little ass.


    ¡°Joe!¡±


    God, I¡¯vepletely lost it.


    All control.


    ¡°You¡¯ll be my ything in return for my protection. Those are my terms, sweetheart.¡± I nt another kiss on her stunned face. ¡°Take it or leave it.¡±


    ¡°I-I thought you had to help me regardless-¡±


    ¡°You thought wrong.¡±


    Her throat moves up and down. I¡¯ve stunned her into silence. ¡°I guess you¡¯re not such a good guy after all.¡±

 3-12

    MARISA


    BAM! BAM! BAM!


    My head jerks from the pillow and I wipe drool from my mouth. There¡¯s a fist hammering at my door, mimicking the pounding in my head. God, what happenedst night? It¡¯s a confusing blur of shapes and sounds, and somehow I untangle the confusing web as I sit up in bed, blinking blearily at the sun. I catch a glimpse of myself on the mirror near my bed. I look like a horror show.


    BAM! BAM! BAM!


    Who the fuck-oh, it¡¯s probably my maid service. I changed all the locks when the mafia guys broke into my apartment and never gave the maids the new key. My insides freeze as I wrap a robe around myself. God, that¡¯s probably how they got in. I should fire them.


    The cold floor stings my bare feet as I tie the robe and head towards the door, which rattles slightly. I unlock it and open the door.


    Joe.


    The sight of him lounging over my doorway takes my breath away. He wears a white t-shirt that shows off his rippling biceps and a pair of dark jeans. I didn¡¯t expect him to be here. His dark hair sweeps over warm brown eyes and dark stubble, which covers his face and neck. That deep sadness that I noticed the first time I met him lingers in his hooded eyes, but they brighten slightly when he sees me.


    My hand slips slightly on the door when he gives me a smile that makes the skin on my neck tingle. I remember the scratch of his face against my cheek when he kissed mest night. Oh God, I kissed him. I practically ripped off his pants.


    ¡°Good afternoon,¡± he says in a pleasant rumble as he looks me up and down. ¡°Or morning, I should say.¡±


    A flush fills my cheeks as I realize how horrible I must look. ¡°What are you doing here?¡±


    He straightens and crosses his arms. ¡°You asked me toe to your brother¡¯s lunch meeting.¡±


    Lunch meeting. Crap. Yes, I vaguely remember saying something.


    ¡°It¡¯s eleven.¡±


    Oh, crap!


    I step aside and he moves in smoothly. He closes the door and takes my shoulders, and I feel my heart hammering somewhere in my throat. My skin burns at the contact of his fingers.


    ¡°How much do you remember ofst night?¡±


    My breath hitches in my chest as he surrounds me with his presence. There¡¯s something about him that¡¯s deeply terrifying and exciting as hell. Blood races through my veins just at the sound of his voice. Somehow, he¡¯s gotten way under my skin. I don¡¯t know why. There¡¯s no question that he¡¯s sexy as hell, but he¡¯s dangerous. His boss threatened my brother and sister, threatened me. Why the hell would I entertain anything more than business with this guy?


    ¡°Some.¡±


    By the self-assured way he acts around me-the dark smile on his face, I know that he remembers everything. And he won¡¯t forget anytime soon.


    ¡°I really need to get ready.¡± I gesture wildly around the ce. ¡°Make yourself at home or whatever. I¡¯m going to take a shower.¡±


    Tight fingers close over my wrist and yank hard. I squeal as my body bumps against Joe¡¯s hard one. Heart hammering, I can¡¯t say a word as he looks down at me. He gives me a look that some men get when they¡¯ve seen you naked. Joe acts like I already belong to him.


    ¡°You¡¯re not getting off the hook that easily.¡± Then he gives me a knowing smirk, as if he can hear my thoughts, and lets me go. ¡°You sure you don¡¯t need help getting ready?¡±


    Suddenly an image of myself pressed against the fogged ss walls of the shower with Joe in between my legs fills my mind. My chest heats and Joe¡¯s slick smile widens.


    ¡°No-I mean, yes!¡± Dammit!


    Joe¡¯s soft chuckle fills the foyer and I lead him into the living room.


    I¡¯ve got to end this.


    ¡°Listen,st night was a mistake, all right? I don¡¯t want to get involved with you.¡±


    I watch him, heart hammering, expecting him to shout and storm out of the apartment, but he merely looks at me. ¡°Yeah, whatever.¡±


    My voice hardens. ¡°I mean it, Joe.¡±


    ¡°No, you don¡¯t. You may have been drunk, but that doesn¡¯t mean your feelings weren¡¯t real.¡±


    I sputter as he lounges on the couch, apparently at ease. He¡¯s not wrong-I know that from the way heat fills my body from a soft look from him, a touch. It¡¯s like stepping into a warm bath.


    He looks under the coffee table and smiles. What¡¯s he looking at?


    Oh, God. The slippers.


    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡±


    If I was embarrassed before, I definitely am now. My face is hot to the touch, like a burner left on high. I¡¯m too mortified to speak.


    The absurd fuzzy, pink slippers with huge yellow toes sit underneath the coffee table. Joeboriously removes his leather shoes and immediately swaps them for the slippers. They¡¯re way too small for him, but he curls his toes in them andughs. I cringe from the sound.


    ¡°They¡¯re slippers from that kid show, Randy the Rhino. I used to be a big fan.¡±


    ¡°You still are, apparently.¡± He smiles grimly. ¡°I liked the rooster from Looney Tunes.¡±


    ¡°Foghorn Leghorn?¡± I gasp.


    ¡°Yeah.¡± His voice takes a mncholy turn and the smile somewhat drops from his face. ¡°My sister loved Looney Tunes. We¡¯d watch it every Sunday.¡±


    ¡°Me too.¡±


    I shouldn¡¯t feel anything for him, but this stupid connection with kid cartoons and the way he reacted to my dumb slippers makes me like him just a little bit more.


    Joe¡¯s face darkens as he stares out of the window. He kicks off the slippers and ties his shoes back on. Heys an arm over the head of the couch and I suddenly feel a strong desire to sit down with him. Instead, I turn around stiffly and enter the bathroom. I slowly strip myself of my clothes and lean in the shower to twist the taps. Within seconds, steam fogs the ss and I step inside the hot spray.


    It¡¯s strange to be naked in here while he¡¯s out there. Ither my loofah and wash myself, aware of how sensitive my body feels.


    It¡¯s fucked up. I should stay far away from him.


    But how can I?


    I barely know anything about him, just that he¡¯s a soldier in the Vittorio family. We don¡¯t have anything inmon, really. I don¡¯t need to know him to want him, do I?


    You¡¯ll be my ything in return for my protection. Those are my terms, sweetheart.


    My hand freezes in the middle of washing my inner thigh as Joe¡¯s voice rasps into my head. I remember everything.


    Oh, God. He didn¡¯t mean it, did he?


    I shut off the water as a shiver runs through my body that has nothing to do with cold. What¡¯s wrong with me? I shouldn¡¯t be aroused by the idea of him using me, but I am. There¡¯s something incredibly hot about being desired by someone so dangerous. He¡¯s still part of an organization that¡¯s choking Dad¡¯spany-mypany, whose reputation is being poisoned by our association with them. And they¡¯ve all made it clear that I don¡¯t have a choice. I¡¯m stuck with them indefinitely.


    Shit.


    I wrap towels around my body and pat down my hair. My hair protests as I attack it with ab, untangling everything before letting it drape down my back. I turn around to hang it back on the rack and Joe¡¯s standing in the doorway.


    ¡°Fuck!¡±


    My scream bounces harshly off the tiles and I snatch the towel back, wrapping it around myself.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± I gasp.


    ¡°Watching you,¡± he says in a husky voice as he enters inside the humid bathroom, his eyes filled with greed. ¡°You are sexy as hell.¡±


    Joe looks down my neck where the towel barely covers my nipples. My skin burns hot from his gaze.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be disgusting. You shouldn¡¯t be in here.¡±


    ¡°Oh, really? Then why did you leave the door unlocked?¡±


    My mouth parts as I stare into his smiling, irritating face. ¡°I-I didn¡¯t mean to.¡±


    ¡°Or subconsciously you wanted me toe in here.¡± He steps forward and makes a sudden hissing sound that makes my core clench. ¡°I want to fuck your brains out right now.¡±


    Vulgarnguage like that normally makes me taste bile, but from him, a hot line runs from the middle of my back to the space between my legs.


    ¡°Don¡¯t talk to me like that!¡±


    I don¡¯t allow guys to talk to me like this, period. Dad would have never rubbed shoulders with a guy like him. It¡¯s so crude-so vulgar, but damn it if it doesn¡¯t make my heart leap against my chest.


    He quirks an eyebrow. ¡°Why not? Because it¡¯s wrong? Because I¡¯m wrong?¡±


    He takes my hand and squeezes it, bringing it to his lips to kiss. The stubble of his cheek scratches against my skin and I feel a sear of warmth like a hot brand sizzling into my flesh.


    This guy is totally fucking with my head.


    ¡°Yeah, both.¡± I snatch my hand back and tighten the towel around myself. ¡°All of the above.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t have to mean anything, Marisa. I want you and you want me, don¡¯t try to deny it. And we made a dealst night, if you recall.¡± The dimples in his face deepen as he smiles, his eyes shining.


    My back hits the cold walls as he corners me, moving his fingers up my damp arm. I swallow hard, trying to avoid his eyes. Inside my body, there¡¯s a furnace I¡¯m trying to dial down. ¡°Yeah, while I was drunk.¡±


    ¡°You asked me toe inside, and I refused because I was trying to do the right thing. Then you made me realize-why am I trying to be the good guy?¡±


    Now blood pounds in my ears as I search his face, waiting for something to happen. The heat between our bodies is undeniable. His heavy gaze makes me hot all over. A smooth hand wraps around my waist, the fingers bunching in the fabric. Then he yanks and the towel slips down to my stomach, exposing my breasts.


    ¡°Joe!¡±


    The towel falls to the tiles around me feet like a puddle and I wrap my arms around my breasts and groin, trying to hide what he uncovered. My heart jack-knifes into my chest and his eyes rove down my body at all the curves unhidden by my hands.


    I¡¯m naked.


    He¡¯s fully dressed.


    It¡¯s embarrassing. It¡¯s infuriating. It¡¯s-


    ¡°Sexy.¡±


    Joe¡¯s wolfish grin makes my heart pound. I don¡¯t resist as powerful hands pull my bare waist closer to his body. The feeling of his hands on my skin feels too fucking good. His hot mouth is on my neck, his hand buried in my hair as the other grabs my ass. Ragged, deep breaths fill the bathroom as he tugs the arm covering my breasts and it falls away with little resistance. His hand creeps up my abdomen and I bite my lip, not used to the waves and waves of feelings that he¡¯s giving me. Then he grabs my breast in his whole hand and squeezes, and finally I let out a gasp. It¡¯s like an electric current, running down to the glow between my legs. He pinches my nipple roughly and I find his mouth instinctually, both of us guided by something raw and primal.


    I wrap my arms around his neck andunch myself towards him, greedy for every feeling he gives me. He smiles against my lips and pins me against the wall, moving his hand back down my curves. He cups my mound and another electric current surprises me. The fingers move centimeter by centimeter, teasing as I curl my fingers in his hair, nearly tearing out the strands. Then he strokes the wet, glistening area that burns with desire and hisughter hisses in my ear.


    ¡°Admit it. You want me.¡±


    I shudder and utter a loud gasp. His middle finger strokes my clit, and I feel myself squeezing and clenching to desperately fill the ache inside.


    ¡°I¡¯m staking a im. You¡¯re mine from now on.¡±


    Excuse me? I don¡¯t belong-oh, God.


    His finger finally slips inside my pussy, curving up to stroke the bed of nerves that call out for something thick and hard.


    Jesus. I¡¯ve never known a man like him. He maniptes my body as if he¡¯s known it for years. His other hand pinches my nipple and I arch my back into him, uttering a strange noise. Holy fuck, it feels incredible. It¡¯s beginning to be too little. I want more of him, but he won¡¯t give it to me.


    ¡°Joe, please.¡±


    ¡°Tell me that you belong to me, and I¡¯ll get you off.¡±


    Belong to him? What does that even mean? I look up into his eyes, but there¡¯s no humor in them. He¡¯s dead serious. His finger twists inside me and another agonizing wave of pleasure burns through my veins.


    ¡°What does that mean?¡±


    ¡°It means you¡¯ll be myare.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I have no idea what that is. It¡¯s an Italian-sounding word that sounds beautiful when it rolls from his lips.


    His lips twitch. ¡°Aren¡¯t you Italian? Comare. No strings.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like a mistress.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t get hung up on the word. It¡¯s just sex and fun.¡± He lowers his face and kisses my cheek. ¡°I think we could both use a little of that.¡±


    Fun. I¡¯ve almost forgotten what the word means. I tried having fun the other day when I went barhopping with some of my old college acquaintances. It wasn¡¯t fun, not until Joe showed up, at least. As for sex, it¡¯s been several long years since I¡¯ve had any.


    This is the closest I¡¯ve gotten to it in a long time, and now he¡¯s staring me down as he ys with my clit, even though he feels how badly I want him. Christ, this is insane. These people don¡¯t care about me. Even Joe, who pretends to be sensitive and sweet-would hurt me if his boss gave the order.


    It¡¯s just sex. It doesn¡¯t have to mean anything.


    ¡°Just fun?¡±


    Joe smiles and warmth stirs in my chest as he looks at mezily, almost as if he¡¯s drunk on my arousal. ¡°Yeah, just fun.¡±


    I¡¯m not thinking clearly, and I think Joe¡¯s counting on that fact. His hand strokes my clit. How am I supposed to make a sound decision?


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    The moment my whisper leaves my mouth, he inserts a third finger inside me. My breaths are high-pitched as he leans against me, his shirt damp from my body. His mouth fastens over my neck and he sucks hard as he fucks my pussy with his hand. The slick, wet sound fills the bathroom and I reach down his shirt to the bulge in his jeans. His eyes roll back as I sweep my fingers over him and squeeze. Jesus Christ, he¡¯s huge. Where does it end?


    ¡°Damn, you got me hard.¡±


    He bites down on my neck and my body arches into him. I can feel his fingers inside my slick walls, curving upward, getting me to moan into his chest like I¡¯ve never moaned before.


    ¡°Fuck me. Please.¡±


    Joe¡¯s hand pauses inside me and he looks at me, his lips trembling. ¡°I want to, but you have somewhere to be.¡±


    Somewhere to be?


    Oh, right.


    I don¡¯t fucking care about anything anymore, except the feeling of his fingers inside me and how his lips taste slightly sweet and the rock-hard cock in my hands. It would feel so amazing inside me. Joe never stops moving his hand. It pumps inside me, unable to fill mepletely, but striking that ultra-sensitive spot that makes me suck in harsh breaths. I fumble with his jeans and manage to unbutton him, and then I slip my hand underneath the soft fabric of his boxers. Joe hisses as my palmes in contact with his abdomen and then I slide down, into the bed of bristly hair and I wrap my fingers around him. God, it¡¯s so hard. It¡¯s so long. How can he fit it inside his pants? Reaching down, I trace my fingers around the head of his cock. A tiny bead of wetness makes the head slick, and I roll it around his cock.


    The hand between my leg pauses as he takes my hand out of his pants. He raises it to his lips and kisses it, shaking his head with a brilliant smile. ¡°Not today, sweetheart.¡±


    ¡°Why not-ah!¡±


    He plunges inside immediately, and I¡¯m so close that I fist my hands in his hair and pull.


    ¡°You are so fucking wet.¡±


    ¡°Oh my God!¡±


    His mouth is on my neck again and then I feel it. It¡¯s like a seismic wave shattering the earth. I feel broken. The fingers strike the sensitive wall and my pussy clenches around his hand as relief floods me. I can¡¯t fucking take it. Joe lets out a grunt as I yank his hair, crying out to the ceiling as he kisses my neck and rubs my swollen clit.


    ¡°Fuck me.¡±


    His warmth disappears as he steps away from me, breathing hard. His jeans are undone and his cock is livid against his boxers. Joe¡¯s lips part as he watches me slump down the wall. My orgasm shakes through my body and I look at him under heavy eyes, wishing I could give him the same pleasure.


    Joe walks closer tentatively, the hesitation in his footsteps. I lean forward on my knees and touch his legs, which feel so solid next to me. ¡°It¡¯s your turn, Joe.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re fucking right,¡± he says in an abrasive voice.


    I pull his jeans all the way down and run my hands over his legs, which are covered with fine, ck hair. He tugs his boxers down and his cock bounces free, massive and thick. His hand drops to my head, moving over my hair in a gentle caress.


    ¡°Have you ever sucked cock before?¡±


    I look up at him from my knees, blushing hard as I witness his terrifyingly dark face harden. The way he talks to me is so degrading, and I feel a wave of self-disgust for actually liking it. He¡¯s already controlling me.


    ¡°I-not really.¡±


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s fine. You¡¯re good at obeying orders, aren¡¯t you? Just do what I say.¡±


    His harsh voice rings out in the bathroom, slightly condescending as he looks down at me. His hand digs into my hair. ¡°Open your mouth.¡±


    My lips tremble as he wavers in front of me. How the hell am I supposed to fit that in my mouth? My experience nil, I¡¯ve always found the idea of blowjobs disgusting. Despite that, I¡¯m curious. It makes me excited to see him so turned on, and I want to give him more. My tongue reaches out tentatively and I graze the soft head. It tastes like clean skin.


    Relieved, I open my mouth wider and Joe slowly pushes himself inside my mouth. His thickness stretches my mouth, almost to the point where it¡¯s ufortable.


    ¡°Now stick out your tongue.¡±Exclusive ? material by N?(/v)elDrama.Org.


    I feel the hairs on my head separating as he clenches tight, groaning as Iply with his order. As my saliva thickens around his cock, I¡¯m able to move back and forth more easily.


    ¡°Suck the head,¡± he says in a strained voice. ¡°Good.¡±


    My lips tighten around him as I suck, and he moans in response. Even though I¡¯ve just had an orgasm, my body starts to heat up at the sound of deep-throated pleasure. My nipples peak and he begins to thrust slowly. I¡¯m at theplete mercy of this man. He¡¯s owning my body, because he can get me to do things I never even wanted to do. Maybe it¡¯s his throaty voice or his unswerving confidence. He sucks in breath as I force myself to amodate all of him. Joe¡¯s hands tense in my hair and he makes a loud grunting sound and then he pulls out, his face red. I watch in fascination as he pumps his cock with his hand rapidly, and then thick ropes of cum shoot out, draping over my chest. The room echoes with his strained breaths and he sinks to his knees, grabbing my head to give me a fierce look. His breath billows over my face.


    Then he crushes himself against my lips, his tongue forcing inside my mouth. I¡¯m breathless, astounded with how crazy this man makes me. His hand gropes my breast and I moan against his mouth.


    ¡°Your lips were made to give blowjobs.¡± He smiles and pulls back, tucking himself into his boxers.


    ¡°Really? You¡¯re not just saying that?¡±


    He seizes my jaw and kisses me again. ¡°The pleasure was all mine.¡±

 3-13

    How awkward is this?


    I sit in his car, my cheeks probably a permanent stain of beet-red as I look outside the car window, because I can¡¯t look at him.


    I¡¯vepletely fucking lost it.


    How else can I exin the freak fest that happened in my apartment? No matter how hot it was, I shouldn¡¯t have done it.


    I steal a nce at him. Joe looks at ease as he drives the car, as if he gets blowjobs from strange women all the time, which makes my stomach clench.


    He probably does. This isn¡¯t a big deal for him.


    It¡¯s a big deal for me. I¡¯ve never been a friends-with-benefits.


    Are we even friends?


    Christ, this is weird. I¡¯m totally out of my element. I have no idea what I¡¯m supposed to do. How am I supposed to act around him?


    His voice cuts through my thoughts. ¡°Don¡¯t overthink it.¡±


    Joe stares straight ahead and my jaw drops. ¡°How do you-?¡±


    ¡°I can practically hear your thoughts. Stop worrying.¡±


    Easy for him to say. I saw the gun strapped to his leg. If his boss decided to kill me, I¡¯d never see iting. That pounds in the back of my brain when he nces at me. That threat is always there, hiding just out of sight, but it¡¯s there. He said he didn¡¯t want to hurt me, not that he wouldn¡¯t hurt me.


    Of course I¡¯m worried.


    If I can bepletely honest, he scares the shit out of me. He always has this look on his face-this deadpan expression that makes me wonder if he¡¯s an empty shell. Every smile he gives me shes with the unhappiness in his eyes. There¡¯s a lot of darkness inside him.


    Joe gives me a look as he parks the car and we walk out to find the little cafe where I¡¯m supposed to meet Nathan. We walk a foot apart from each other. Half an hour ago, I was between his knees, my mouth wrapped around his cock. It feels like we never shared an intimate moment.


    Awkward.


    I have no idea what to do with my hands, so I let them swing at my side. Joe¡¯s eyes scan the streets, as if looking for potential threats. My heart jumps when he touches my arm and nods to the ce.


    My brother sits at a table outside, fingers wrapped around his smartphone. It looks like it might snap into two. I approach the table tentatively. Nathan¡¯s white shirt flutters in the small breeze. It¡¯s rolled up to his elbows, almost as if he¡¯s prepared for a fight. His blond head looks up at me, and I feel stabbed by the usation in his eyes, which narrow when he sees Joe.


    ¡°What the hell is he doing here?¡±


    A dark smile flicks on Joe¡¯s face as he walks behind me and around Nathan¡¯s table. He gets in my brother¡¯s face as he nts a palm over the table and the other on the back of his chair. Cold eyes stare back at Joe. He¡¯s trying to intimidate Nathan, but no one¡¯s ever been able to do that.


    ¡°I¡¯m protecting my boss¡¯ interest.¡±


    ¡°What boss?¡± he asks in a derisive tone.


    ¡°Jack Vittorio.¡±


    Nathan¡¯s face nches and he balls his hands into fists. It¡¯s clear that he recognizes the name, and he looks at me again in disgust. ¡°You made a deal with these savages?¡±


    Acid crawls up my throat. ¡°No, I-¡±


    Joe leans in closer. ¡°Like I said before, keep your fucking hands to yourself, or you might find yourself at the bottom of a river in several pieces.¡±


    I p my hands to my mouth and hope that the other patrons at the cafe haven¡¯t overheard anything. ¡°Joe, that¡¯s enough!¡±


    Nathan swallows slowly, rage vibrating through his limbs. ¡°Get out of my face, asshole. I have friends in high ces. You can¡¯t touch me.¡±


    Fuck, why couldn¡¯t he shut the hell up? He¡¯s just making things worse.


    ¡°Guys, please-¡±


    Joe just can¡¯t help himself. He grins. ¡°Is that a threat? It sounds like one.¡±


    ¡°Joe!¡± He finally turns around to give me azy look. ¡°Please, stop it. I didn¡¯te here to fight with him. Just go.¡±


    Instead, Joe pulls out a chair next to Nathan and sits down next to him. ¡°I¡¯ve said my piece.¡±


    Before either of them can say anything else, I sit down in front of Nathan. His eyes are colder than I ever imagined. There¡¯s no twinkle in them, no smile on his face, no friendly greeting, nothing that would suggest any warmth. He looks at me as though he loathes me. His hands twitch, as if they¡¯d long to wrap around my throat.


    He¡¯s unmasked.


    ¡°Nathan, I don¡¯t want us to be like this. I¡¯ve been dealing with a lot.¡± I stop momentarily, my eyes filling with tears. ¡°You don¡¯t understand. There are a lot of things going on that Dad never told us.¡±


    Underneath the table, a rough hand seizes my knee and pinches hard. I wince, looking at Joe, who shakes his head slightly. It¡¯s a warning. Right. I can¡¯t tell Nathan about it.


    His gaze shifts to Joe, who continues to stare at him unblinkingly. ¡°I think I know what this is all about.¡±


    My chest feels airless. ¡°You do?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± His nostrils re. ¡°You made some kind of stupid deal with these mobsters. Hell, maybe you got them to change Dad¡¯s mind about his will. Now you¡¯re trying to get them to intimidate me into preventing the sale of thispany-¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not it at all! How can you think that? How the hell would I know how to contact these people?¡±


    He leans in, spitting at me from across the table, his eyes mad. ¡°Cause you¡¯re fucking one of them, and he happened to work for Jack-¡±


    Joe¡¯s wildughter cuts through Nathan¡¯s venomous tone, silencing him immediately.


    For a moment, the unpleasantness in my gut lightens as I watch Joe¡¯s eyes crinkle withughter. It slices through the thick tension on our table and a small smile pulls my face. At least someone realizes how ridiculous that would be. Both of us give him scathing looks as he leans back into his chair. Finally, Joe¡¯sughs subside and Nathan¡¯s contemptuous face turns back towards me.


    ¡°Nathan, you know I wouldn¡¯t do that. You grew up with me. It¡¯s me, your sister. Remember?¡±


    Then his face is nk. ¡°I don¡¯t know who you are anymore, but it won¡¯t change my mind about the sale. Jessica and I deserve what¡¯s ours, and I will not work for you.¡±


    The mention of our younger sister makes anger re in my chest. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have brought her into this. You have no idea who you¡¯re dealing with.¡±


    Nathan stands up, and so does Joe, whose face is an inch from Nathan¡¯s.


    Oh, Jesus.


    All the humor is gone from his face. ¡°Sit the fuck down.¡±


    My brother is not about to take orders from Joe, but he forces him to sit back down with one violent shove.


    ¡°I¡¯ve done some digging on you. I had a bad feeling, and I talked to some of your childhood friends from school. They didn¡¯t have very nice things to say about you.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± he says in a bored voice.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± he smirks and then leans in closer. Joe whispers something in Nathan¡¯s ear that makes his body tense. I listen hard, wondering what the fuck he¡¯s saying, but I can¡¯t catch a word.


    Nevertheless, their effect on Nathan is remarkable. Lips shaking, he turns to me as Joe pulls away with a cruel smile. It¡¯s hard to look at my brother, to be on the receiving end of all that rage.


    ¡°You will regret this. Both of you.¡±


    The chair scrapes the cement as Nathan stands, and I¡¯m so certain that he¡¯s going to lunge across the table to kill me that I¡¯m seconds away from screaming. Joe stands in his way and I bristle as Nathan walks around him. He watches him leave, his eyes bright.


    ¡°What the fuck did you tell him?¡±


    Joe exhales a long sigh, his chest pulsing in and out as he sits in Nathan¡¯s seat. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it.¡±


    Don¡¯t worry about it? I could take the knife sitting in front of me and throw it in his face. ¡°You pushed him way too far. He¡¯s not going to forget this.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m counting on.¡± He clicks his tongue, still watching Nathan¡¯s white form in the distance. ¡°I have a feeling he¡¯s going to be a problem.¡±


    ¡°Stay the hell away from him, Joe. I mean it. If anything happens to him, this whole thing with Jack is done. I don¡¯t care about the consequences.¡±


    Joe¡¯s expression is almost pitying. ¡°He¡¯ll kill you without a second thought,¡± he says in a deadpan voice.Exclusive ? material by N?(/v)elDrama.Org.


    ¡°Just shut up about him.¡±


    ¡°I know that he has no problem with attacking women.¡±


    ¡°I wanted to make peace with him, and all you did was piss him off even more.¡±


    He leans across the table, showing no sign that anything I said offended him. He takes my hands sitting on the table and our faces are suddenly inches apart. ¡°I am not saying this on a whim, Marisa. Your brother is dangerous. He was willing to strangle you based on a misunderstanding. What do you think he¡¯s going to do now that he knows you¡¯re not giving in to him?¡±


    What Joe says disturbs me down to my marrow of my bones. I¡¯m back in my room, surrounded by pink posters as a pint-sized Nathan tears one off the wall, ripping it into pieces. I fight against that wing, awful feeling inside me. I pull my hands away from him, but his fingers wrap around my wrist like a vice.


    ¡°You¡¯re wrong about him.¡±


    Pity. It¡¯s all over his face.


    ¡°I¡¯m not. Reading peoplees with the job, sweetheart, and your brother is one sick fuck. Do me a favor and don¡¯t ever be alone with that guy.¡±


    It makes me really fucking sad that he has such a low opinion of my brother, but some tiny corner inside my heart knows that he¡¯s right. I can¡¯t trust Nathan.


    His thumb strokes my hand and I¡¯m overwhelmed with everything that just happened, and the eyes that refuse to let me off the hook. Joe¡¯s not the type to sugarcoat things. He constantly says things I¡¯d rather not hear and vites my personal space, not that I mind much.


    ¡°I won¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡±


    Then he kisses my cheek. I feel the imprint of his lips. It burns like a brand on my skin. He stands up and I join him. We walk away from the cafe.


    ¡°Listen, I¡¯m going to take the train to work.¡±


    His eyebrows lift in surprise. ¡°On a Saturday?¡±


    I smile apologetically and he shrugs in response. ¡°I¡¯ll take you there.¡±


    ¡°No, really.¡± I rub my neck feverishly. ¡°I just want to be alone. I need to think.¡±


    We stop at a metro station and Joe watches me carefully.


    ¡°Thanks foring with me. You really didn¡¯t have to.¡±


    He gives me a little smile, one that finally looks genuine. He grasps my chin and leans closer as though he¡¯s going to kiss me. My heart pounds so hard that I¡¯m sure he can feel it.


    ¡°Jack would want me to be here.¡±


    I feel cold. The way he says it makes me feel like I¡¯m nothing. Like I¡¯m just a piece of ass.


    ¡°Don¡¯t mistake my duty for kindness, Marisa.¡±


    The stubble under his mouth scrapes my skin, but then his soft lips crush against mine and I suddenly lose all energy in my limbs. He¡¯s a dark, irresistible force, depleting me of all my energy. He makes me want him even though he hardly deserves to be wanted. By his own admission, he¡¯s not a good man, but I kiss him back anyway. God knows, I¡¯m hungry for a scrap of affection, and he¡¯s giving it to me.


    I sweep my hands over his broad chest, feeling the hard, lean muscles rippling under my fingers.  Vividly, I remember how amazing it felt to have his hands stroking my naked skin. I waspletely bared in his arms, but I never got to explore his body.


    Joe pulls his face away from mine, his eyes zing like a quiet, controlled fire. ¡°Don¡¯t forget what I said about your brother.¡± Then he steps away from me, gently disengaging my arms from his waist.


    ¡°I won¡¯t.¡± He¡¯s about to turn away, but I call out his name and he pauses. ¡°Will I see you soon? I mean-outside of work?¡±


    I want to vomit at the hope in my voice.


    ¡°Of course, hon. I¡¯ll take you out soon.¡± Joe smiles and gives me a wink. ¡°See you.¡±


    He leaves just like that, and butterflies soar in my stomach. It¡¯s such a strange sensation. Pain and hope fly together at the sight of him walking away.

 3-14

    JOE


    I can¡¯t escape her.


    Can¡¯t stop thinking about her.


    All the parts of her-especially her wet little mouth, wrapped around my cock. I¡¯m amazed I didn¡¯t fuck her then. I held back.


    Even though it¡¯s a nice change to be thinking about something not involving my dead sister, it still makes me worried.


    That¡¯s twice I¡¯ve gone out of my way to help her. Why? Am I a jamook? Am I letting her control me? I was right about her brother, and Jack would want to know about him, but still.


    Makes me feel out of control.


    Fuck her and get it out of your system. Keep it casual.


    I will. I¡¯ll do it. Tonight. I¡¯ll fuck the shit out of her, and I won¡¯t stay over. I¡¯ll just leave. No strings.


    Jack¡¯s strip club unts a shing, neon billboard with huge electric tits. I open my car door and step outside, my palm a little wet when I m the door shut. I jog across the parking lot to the Employees Only entrance, using my key to open the door.


    Vince, Jack, and Nicky crowd around the pool table,ughing to themselves about something. Vince looks up when I enter and grins that dark smile of his that could mean anything from amusement to bloodlust.


    ¡°You fucking asshole!¡± he roars good-naturedly when I close the door.


    The whole crew is there. They¡¯reughing behind their hands or otherwise giving me strange, respectful nces. Almost as if they¡¯re impressed. Impressed with what?


    Jack nods at me, his eyes shining. ¡°Slick bastard.¡±


    I step towards the pool table, keeping my face neutral so long as I don¡¯t know what the fuck they¡¯re talking about. Vince shoves his pool cue into someone¡¯s chest as he walks around the table. He throws an arm around me and pounds my back. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell us you were fucking the owner?¡± heughs at my stunned face. ¡°This fucking guy!¡±


    My body rocks with his hands pounding my back, giving me congrattions while Jack gives me a fatherly smile, as if I¡¯ve made him proud.


    They already know?


    The hair rises on the back of my neck. ¡°How the fuck did you find out?¡±


    ¡°Sorry, Joey. I followed you after you left the other night.¡± Nicky apologetically shows me his cell-phone, where there¡¯s a grainy photo of Marisa and me in the bar, lips locked together.


    ¡°You¡¯re fucking following me now?¡± My voice rises to a shout, and theughter immediately evaporates.


    ¡°When I told you to lick her pussy, I didn¡¯t mean it literally,¡± Vince jabs.


    ¡°Fuck you!¡±


    I lunge at Vince, but he steps away from me as if he expected it. The guys around me immediately grab my arms and force them behind my back. The arrogant asshole,ughs it up. His dark face shines with amusement as I struggle to get out of their grips and beat his face in.


    ¡°Will you take it easy? It¡¯s just a joke!¡±


    ¡°Vince,¡± Jack admonishes in a tired voice. ¡°Stop giving him a hard time and act like a fucking underboss.¡±


    His eyes never leave mine, but his smile lightens somewhat. It bes friendlier. Not mocking. ¡°You¡¯re right. Sorry, Joe.¡±


    Energy still courses through my veins and I¡¯d like to see him sprawled on the floor, but I force my muscles to rx. I can¡¯t hit the underboss.


    I give him a stiff nod and they let me go.


    ¡°I like your style, Joey. If we have the fucking President of Worlds Casino in our pocket, we can step up the game. Get more involved in the casino. If she likes you, she¡¯ll do whatever you ask of her.¡±


    My insides freeze when Jack talks about it like that. ¡°All due respect, Jack, but I didn¡¯t start fucking her for you.¡±


    The other guys whistle at the chill emanating from my voice. Vince doesn¡¯t look amused. He crosses his arms.


    ¡°Watch your tone when you talk to the boss.¡±


    Fuck you, you piece of shit.


    The boss takes no notice. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect you to, but now that you are, we might as well use this advantage.¡±


    My heart clenches and releases painfully. I don¡¯t want to hurt her. I meant that. Even less do I want to manipte her into giving away more of her control to us¡­to the family. Jack appraises me coldly. If I ever want to be capo again, I need to do this.


    ¡°Honestly, I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s possible. She¡¯s not stupid.¡±


    ¡°I believe in you, Joey.¡±


    The weight of his words settles thickly on my shoulders like a smothering nket. Fuck him for putting that pressure on me.


    ¡°There¡¯s something else. Her brother might be a problem.¡±


    Vince makes a face. ¡°That demented fuck? Why am I not surprised?¡±


    ¡°He wants to sell thepany to Lences Holdings. He¡¯s got the other sister on board.¡±


    ¡°Never heard of thepany.¡± Jack looks at Vinny and takes a small sip of his drink. ¡°So we lean on the brother a little.¡±


    Profound relief sighs out of my lungs when Vince shakes his head. ¡°She won¡¯t like it. She¡¯ll stop sucking Joey¡¯s cock.¡± He shes me a grin.


    Ignoring him, I address Jack. ¡°Let me deal with the brother. If I can change his mind, the sister will follow suit.¡±


    * * *


    The air is thick.


    The smog, the car exhaust, it rolls into my car. It makes my nose squirm, like the thoughts in my head. I¡¯m five minutes from her apartment. I shrug off everything that Jack said about her. I won¡¯t think of that now. The mob controls too much of my life already. A guy has gotta have some things to himself.


    Where to take her? That¡¯s the question, really. Something tells me that a fancy restaurant would bore a rich girl like her. She won¡¯t give a fuck about being wined and dined. Her expectations will be higher, so I¡¯ll take her to do something that¡¯s theplete opposite.


    Coney Ind.


    Yeah, I know. It¡¯s a bit ridiculous, but ever since I saw those slippers in her apartment, those god-awful things, I knew I was dealing with someone different. She¡¯s not like most broads. All those arcades, the bumper cars, the juvenile, mindless fun-that¡¯s what she likes. It¡¯s what she wants.


    That¡¯s my hunch, anyway.


    I¡¯ll give her what she wants, so long as I get what I want.


    I park my car into the visitor section of her apartment and take the elevator to her floor. My heart beats a slow throb as I walk towards her door. I¡¯m not nervous-I¡¯ve dealt with girls like her before. Somewhere, though, there¡¯s anxiety. Jack wants me to use her. Maybe I should. I don¡¯t want to be a soldier forever.


    And let¡¯s face it; I¡¯ve never been a good guy. I was good to my sister, but that was about it.


    My fist knocks on the door.


    She opens it a momentter in a whirl of perfume and silk. Marisa wears a colorful silk tank top over dark jeans. Her dark blonde hair is teased into curls. Pink cheeks darken when she sees me dressed up for her.


    ¡°Joe,e inside for a minute.¡±


    Marisa doesn¡¯t let me answer. She turns around and walks as if she expects me toe.


    We¡¯re going to have to change that.


    I don¡¯t get women. You give them a time for them to be ready, and they never are. They invite you in, they offer you a ss of wine, and they tell you that they¡¯ll be ready in ¡°just a minute¡± when it never really is.


    She gives me a shrewd look. ¡°You didn¡¯t tell me you were going to show up in a suit.¡±


    I look down at myself. ¡°So?¡±


    ¡°So? That changes everything. I¡¯ll need to change clothes.¡±


    ¡°You won¡¯t want to where we¡¯re going,¡± I warn her.


    Marisa shrugs. ¡°If you¡¯re wearing a suit, I¡¯m wearing a dress.¡±


    A smirk flits over my face as I watch her disappear into her bedroom. ¡°Can I at least watch?¡±


    Her roar echoes in the apartment. ¡°No!¡±


    ¡°Why not? I¡¯ve seen it all, already.¡± Iugh to myself as I imagine her face flushing in embarrassment. I inch closer and closer to her bedroom door, which she didn¡¯t quite manage to close. The ruffling sounds of fabric hitting the floor makes my cock stiffen in my pants. I can still picture her quite clearly in my mind. ¡°Ironic isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    She rips open the door, surprising me. Marisa chose a bright orange-red knit dress, which clings to her curves and shows off her creamy-white tits. A gold ne dangles around her throat, the delicate chain disappearing somewhere inside her rack. I try to remember what her tits looked like and I have to swallow hard and remind myself not to touch her.


    Let here to you.


    Marisa raises an eyebrow.


    ¡°It¡¯s ironic that I¡¯ve seen you naked, but I haven¡¯t had sex with you yet.¡±


    As I expected, she blushes violently. It¡¯s endearing, really. Cute.


    ¡°No, what¡¯s ironic is that I¡¯m going on a date with you in spite of everything.¡±


    ¡°In spite of? Or because of?¡±


    The red in her cheeks deepens under my gaze. Her eyes keep wandering. They fix on thepels of my jacket, my hair, and my chin-anywhere but my eyes. I take her delicate hand in mine and pull her gorgeous body closer to me. I can see her bed. It¡¯s so fucking tempting to just push her back into the room and rip off her clothes.


    ¡°Maybe both.¡±


    Her hand shakes in mine.


    ¡°What are you so afraid of? You gave me head, for Christ¡¯s sake.¡±


    Augh shakes out of her throat as she shakes her head. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯ve never really done anything like this before.¡±


    I squeeze her trembling hand and that seems to still her somewhat. ¡°Just enjoy it while itsts.¡±


    She blinks, her eyes finally meeting mine atst. It¡¯s then that I sense her vulnerability. Her fragility. A shaky sigh leaves her lips as her pupils disappear into tiny dots. She¡¯s just barely hanging together.


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    Then she lifts herself onto her toes and her hand grasps my shoulder. Her red lips touch mine and she sighs into me, as if she¡¯s waited for this all day. I kiss her back, devouring her sighs as heat pounds in my heart. Her body fits into mine like a glove, and somehow thatforts me. Holding her just feels good.


    I pull away, my blood racing at that sudden realization. I don¡¯t like seeing the pain in her eyes, the ache of solitude, because it¡¯s like I¡¯m staring at myself.


    You just want to fuck her, that¡¯s all.


    ¡°Where are we going, Joe?¡±


    I clear my throat, her question distracting me from my thoughts. ¡°I had a ce in mind, but it¡¯s a surprise.¡±


    Her eyes light up at the sound of that, and then I know I¡¯ll have to take her there. Fuck.


    ¡°All right. Should we go?¡±


    My face inches closer, until her lips part and a shaky exhale leaves her mouth. I kiss her lightly and she tries to pull me back as I lift my head. She looks at me, cheeks burning, already hot for me. Poor girl didn¡¯t stand a chance. I probably could make the arrangement Jack wants me to have with her work. She looks at me with that starry-eyed, infatuated expression that I¡¯ve seen on so many girls. I¡¯ve used so many of them; taken what I wanted and tossed them aside like a bad habit.


    I don¡¯t know why, but I can¡¯t do that to her. She¡¯s a lost girl trying to navigate through a minefield. I¡¯m just trying to guide her.


    ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s go.¡±


    She takes her purse and slings it over her shoulder, and then takes my hand again. I feel it again-an electric current that makes my hand squeeze hers. We leave her apartment and take the elevator down in silence, Marisa refusing to let go of my hand. I don¡¯t want her to let go. That¡¯s the strangest part.


    But finally, she does when I lead her to my Mustang. I open the car door for her and she slips inside. I enter the driver¡¯s seat and the car vibrates with a throaty growl as I turn the keys. She casts me suspicious looks as I drive out of her garage.


    ¡°Where are we going?¡±


    ¡°Somewhere fun.¡±


    I pull into Manhattan traffic and take 11th avenue down, with the Hudson River on my right. At this time, it¡¯s pretty much stop and go. Fucking traffic.


    ¡°So, tell me about yourself. I hardly know anything about you.¡±


    Shrugging, I give her a nce. ¡°What¡¯s there to tell?¡±


    ¡°Oh,e on. Where did you grow up? How did you get mixed up with a guy like Jack?¡±


    Ah.


    ¡°A guy like Jack? What does that mean?¡± I say it mildly, but I hope she senses the warning in my voice.


    Don¡¯t criticize my boss.


    She either doesn¡¯t sense it, or ignores it. ¡°He¡¯s a bastard.¡±


    That he is. ¡°We¡¯re not that different, really. Cut from the same cloth. You say you don¡¯t know much about me, and that¡¯s true. Well, here¡¯s the truth: I¡¯m a bastard.¡±


    I took advantage of so many people in my life, I¡¯ve lost count. I murdered. I stole. I cheated on girlfriends, on tests, you name it, and I did it. And yet, I was always there for ma and my sister.


    Not always.


    My fingers clench over the steering wheel.


    The sound of a sharp intake of breath makes me nce at her.


    ¡°When you¡¯re working for the devil, how good can you be, really?¡± I grin at her, but she doesn¡¯t return the smile.


    ¡°You helped me with my brother twice, even though you didn¡¯t have to.¡± She reaches across the seat and takes my hand, which rests on the parking brake.


    I let out a humorlessugh. ¡°He had his hands wrapped around your throat. If I didn¡¯t intervene, you¡¯d be dead.¡±


    Her face pales. ¡°He wouldn¡¯t have killed me.¡±


    Shaking my head, I drop the subject. I don¡¯t want to argue with her, but I know I¡¯m right. The things I found out about him would turn her stomach, if she doesn¡¯t know already. Jack would want me to shut up, to let her believe that I¡¯m some sort of Prince Charming sent to save her, but I can¡¯t do it. Part of me wants to warn her to stay away from me.


    ¡°Why are you trying to make me into some kind of hero? I¡¯m not, sweetheart. I¡¯m sorry, but you¡¯ve got me all wrong-¡±


    The fading sunset bleeds a vibrant orange, casting Marisa into a shining silhouette. Her gold ne glows.


    ¡°I know that. None of you can be trusted. I feel like I¡¯m barely staying afloat, and you-you¡¯re everywhere, watching me.¡±


    The car lurches as I stop at the light. ¡°Then why did you want to go on a date with me?¡±


    Marisa stares straight ahead, the golden light making it impossible to see her features. ¡°I¡¯m tired of being alone, and I can¡¯t seem to get you out of my head.¡±


    Her words, or mine?


    I force my face into a smile. ¡°So long as you don¡¯t expect anything from me, we¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°I do expect one thing.¡±


    What?


    She turns her head, and finally I see her smiling face. ¡°Fun.¡±


    We don¡¯t say anything else for a while, until Marisa catches a glimpse of the Ferris wheel in the distance. ¡°You¡¯re taking me to Coney Ind?¡± she says in an excited squeak.


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I park the car, eager to get out and stretch my legs.


    A sudden intake of breath and a whimper makes my stomach cave in. I look at her in horror as her face screws up in pain. She¡¯s obviously trying to hold back tears.


    Jesus. What did I do?


    I get out of the car and walk to her side. She opens the door and I kneel down beside her. ¡°What¡¯s the matter?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s nothing!¡± she gasps. ¡°It¡¯s just-my dad used to take me here all the time.¡±


    Oh, fucking hell.


    ¡°We can leave if you want-¡±


    She shakes her head violently. ¡°No! No, I don¡¯t want to leave. It¡¯s perfect, really.¡± She slides from the seat and stands up with me, wiping under her eyes.


    Seeing her cry like that stirs a tinge of sadness inside me. ¡°How are you doing with that?¡±


    I close the door behind her and take her hand.


    She shrugs sadly. ¡°I haven¡¯t really had time to think about him. I¡¯ve been so overwhelmed with everything else. I¡¯m really afraid of messing up-doing something wrong and paying dearly for it.¡±


    Why is she confiding in me?


    ¡°Keep your head down and do as you¡¯re told, and everything will work out.¡±


    The wind almost takes away her bitterugh. ¡°I almost believe that.¡±


    We walk together towards the boardwalk as the sun drops down. It gets noisier as we walk down the brightly lit boardwalk. The clunk-clunk of the roller coasters, the obnoxious chip-tune music of arcades, and screams of children fill the night. Her face lights up in delight when we pass by the Ferris wheel. We stop for a moment, taking it all in.


    My blood races when she turns around and grabs my tie, pressing her face against my neck.


    ¡°So? What do you feel up to?¡±


    I wrap my arms around her waist, my hands lowering down her curves to the small of her back. She pulls my tie, and I bend my head-lower and lower until her lips touch my ear.


    ¡°Air hockey.¡±


    We go inside the noisy arcades and exchange a few bucks for chips. The pimple-faced attendant doesn¡¯t bat an eysh as we exchange money and head for the air hockey tables. I have a ton of memories ying these games. I try to remember thest time I yed. It¡¯s been years, no doubt. A painful image of a younger Janice running through these arcades makes my heart clench.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to beat your ass.¡±


    Harshughter cuts through all the noise as Marisa looks at me, a challenge in her eyes. ¡°Yeah, right. I yed this game when I was in college. Every Friday.¡±


    She¡¯s a lot better than I thought she¡¯d be. Her hand strikes the disk without hesitation, sending it flying in my direction so quickly that I can barely keep up. She beats me three games out of four, which boils my blood, but I don¡¯t show it. Marisa rubs it in as we walk out of the arcades.


    ¡°You lost three out of four,¡± she hisses in my ear.


    ¡°Oh, good. You can count.¡±


    We exit the arcades, out of the stifling box of video game music and screaming children, and into the balmy night. She takes my hand, leading the way onto the beach.


    ¡°You¡¯re wearing heels,¡± I remind her.


    So she takes them off, grinning.


    Crazy girl.


    The beach is quiet,pared to the boardwalk and the roar of waves crashing on the damp sand. She kisses my cheek and runs ahead of me, her feet leaving a trail of footprints as she runs into the surf. She turns around and beckons to me.


    ¡°Joe, c¡¯mon!¡±


    ¡°What are you, five? I¡¯m wearing cks!¡±


    ¡°So what?¡±


    A sudden wave smashes into the back of her legs and she squeals as it soaks through the bottom of her dress. The foam hisses as it spills forward. Laughter shakes from my chest as I watch her chase after her heels. Oh, fuck it.


    I bend down and uce my shoes, leaving them behind along with my socks, and then I join her. The water crashes into my shins, soaking right through my cks. It¡¯s cold as fuck. Marisa bends over, looking at something in the sand. Behind her, I chop the water with my arm and a wave of freezing water sshes into her back. She whirls around, hair flying. Iugh my ass off as she kicks through the water, trying to get me.


    ¡°You jerk!¡±


    Sheunches into my arms, and we grapple each other, but then another wave of freezing water hits us both and she screams. Her hair drips as she clings to my arms, teeth chattering. Then suddenly, we¡¯re bothughing. My arms wrap around her and I hold her against my chest. I haven¡¯tughed this hard since-since months ago.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get out of this fucking water.¡±


    My legs are soaking wet and probably won¡¯t dry for hours. The suit¡¯s probably ruined, but oh well. It¡¯s not like I don¡¯t have a half a dozen other ones. She nods and we walk back to my shoes. I sit down on the sand, giving uppletely on trying to save my clothes, and she sits down with me. I pull her body between my legs so that her back rests on my chest. I bite my lip as her freezing, wet dress presses against my chest.


    I try to warm her up the best I can, running my hands down her arms. Her body stirs against mine; she slips her hand into my jacket and touches my waist.


    ¡°Thank you so much for this. I haven¡¯t had this much fun in a long time.¡±


    It¡¯s hard to describe the fluttering feeling in my chest when she smiles at me. This wasn¡¯t what I set out to do. I don¡¯t want to feel anything but desire for her, but now it¡¯s muddled with something tender.


    ¡°I had fun, too.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t expect you to go to all this trouble. I thought we¡¯d go to a restaurant or something. It was really sweet of you.¡±


    The open trust in her face makes me feel guilty. I shouldn¡¯t take advantage of her naivete. Maybe I should have just given her what she expected, so that she wouldn¡¯t get too attached to me.


    At least Jack will be pleased.


    I could give a fuck.


    Her rosy-colored cheeks darken as I let out a chuckle. ¡°Sweet? I think you¡¯ve got the wrong guy.¡±


    ¡°Stop pretending. You¡¯ve acted like aplete gentleman this entire time.¡±


    I lean in and whisper into her hair. ¡°We haven¡¯t gone back to your apartment yet.¡± I nt a kiss on her neck, my teeth grazing her soft skin. ¡°I won¡¯t be so gentlemanly when I get your clothes off, I promise.¡±


    Her whole body runs with a shiver that I¡¯m not entirely sure is from cold. The wet dress clings even more tightly to her like a second skin. I can see the outline of her bra and her nipples, hard with cold, poking through the bra. Damn, it¡¯s a sexy look.


    She turns her head, staring at me with wide eyes. ¡°Can I trust you? I mean, you won¡¯t hurt me, will you?¡±


    My fingers bite into her shoulder. ¡°Not unless you ask for it.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll have to do everything-I mean, I¡¯m used to being in control, but somehow that terrifies me right now. Can you do that?¡±


    I understand her. Shecks confidence. That¡¯s fine, because I have plenty. Many women have told me that I¡¯m a great fuck. Theirpliments could have been bullshit, but if it was, I wouldn¡¯t have to block so many of their numbers.


    ¡°Yes. Definitely. I¡¯ll tell you what to do. All you have to do is obey.¡±Exclusive ? material by N?(/v)elDrama.Org.


    This time her chest flushes red, and I can almost see the same heat in her eyes. ¡°Let¡¯s go to my ce.¡±

 3-15

    She talks incessantly on the way up to her apartment. Mostly to herself as a distraction from her nerves. Her hands tremble when she unlocks her apartment door, and I grasp her hand to still it, turning it for her.


    A shakyugh leaves her lips, and my cock hardens, despite the fact that I¡¯m wearing wet, freezing clothes. The air in her apartment is warm, and I step inside gratefully. I shut the door behind us and slide the bolt home. Wide, fearful blue eyes watch me, waiting for me to make a move.


    There¡¯s something about this silence that makes me hard as fuck. I¡¯m finally alone with her. She¡¯s all mine to y with. No distractions.


    Fuck yes. I¡¯m so goddamn happy.


    Her lips twitch into something resembling a smile. She¡¯s still too nervous to breathe. It¡¯s hot as hell. It¡¯s not that I want the girls I fuck to be afraid of me, but this is a license to do whatever I want with her. She¡¯ll do what I want to please me. Because I scare her. Because of the power I hold over her.


    I take her small hand in mine and lead her into the living room. She obeys my pressure without thinking, her hand already soaked with sweat. ¡°When was thest time you had sex?¡±


    She turns her head away, her cheeks ming red at the mere word. ¡°It¡¯s been a long time.¡±


    ¡°A couple months?¡±


    The apartment echoes with her harshughter. ¡°Way longer than that.¡±


    Years?


    A low whistle blows out of my mouth. ¡°How did that happen?¡±


    Her thumb rubs the back of my hand, and she gives me an anxious look. ¡°I¡¯ve been so busy learning my dad¡¯s business, and my brother would always scare off any guys I introduced to Dad.¡±


    A ripple of anger moves through my body. What an asshole.


    ¡°But you weren¡¯t scared of him.¡± Her hair falls over her shoulders as she looks up at my face, beaming.


    She really thinks of me as a goddamn hero. I wrap my fingers in her silky hair and bring her face closer to mine. Then I kiss her, and that breathless feeling almost takes over. My fingers move to her gorgeous neck, and her shoulders. I y with her dress¡¯ flimsy strap, and then I end the kiss, noticing how red her face is.


    Stay in control.


    ¡°We should think of a safe word.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she breathes. ¡°I don¡¯t want one.¡±


    What? That¡¯s a first. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Cause I¡¯m afraid I¡¯ll use it right away. Please, Joe-just do whatever you want.¡±


    Just do whatever you want.


    Jesus Christ.


    Fine, then. I will. I¡¯ll fuck her until she screams for mercy. She doesn¡¯t know how dangerous telling me that is, and she can¡¯t take it back.


    My hands curl into her hair, massaging the back of her head. Her eyes roll into her head. I have to-I have to at least warn her.


    ¡°You¡¯re sure about this? You might regret it.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°I might be too rough for you to handle.¡±


    She bites her lip and thinks about that for a moment, and then she nods. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m sure.¡±


    All right.


    I could just take her to the bed and fuck her hard, but where¡¯s the fun in that? I sit down on the couch and look at the girl in the short red dress, her nipples still perky from the cold. She watches me with a timid smile.


    ¡°Take off your dress.¡±


    Marisa blinks. ¡°Don¡¯t you want to-?¡±Content provided by N?velDrama.Org.


    ¡°Shut the fuck up and take off your dress.¡±


    The heat in my voice seems to spur her into action. She kicks off her heels and reaches down to the hem of her dress, teasing it up her white thighs, over her see-through, ckce panties, up her t stomach and finally over her matching ck bra. The sound of it sliding over her skin makes the blood rush to my cock, and then finally she lifts it over her windswept hair and tosses it next to her.


    Everything inside me screams to rip off those panties and fuck her.


    I lick my lips. ¡°Now climb on top of me.¡±


    She does it slowly. Her knees straddle my waist and her tits are against my face. Her armsy over the head of the couch, on either side of me. My heart clenches and releases, beating faster as she leans in and kisses me in between quivering breaths. My hands slide over her smooth thighs and ass. Blood rushes to my face as desire leaps inside me. She slides the jacket off my shoulders and then she grabs my tie, pulling me closer to her.


    My hands move up her body, relishing the softness and the warmth glowing through her skin. I love the small gasp she makes when I reach up her back and unsp her bra. Her tits bounce free and the straps slide down her arms, giving me full view of her smoking-hot body. I grab her tits in my hands, feeling her shuddering sighs through them as her chest pulses.


    What a marvel it is, the female body-especially hers. She makes my dick hard without even trying. A tingling sensation spreads over my skin. She brushes my hair back and leans into me, her small lips firmly pressed against mine. My hands tten against her breasts. Goddamn.


    I raise my palm up her chest and over the sharp edges of her corbone. Then I grab a fistful of her hair and pull her away from me. She looks at me, wide-eyed, her lips parted. Marisa is on the cusp of asking me for more.


    I haven¡¯t had sex in months. Months. How the fuck did I ever survive?


    ¡°Lay down, sweetheart.¡±


    Looking apprehensive, she shifts on myp, making my cock jump in my pants. Then she slowly lies down on the couch. I squeeze her legs before sliding out from under her to stand up.


    Marisa¡¯s bodyys below me, the shadows in the living room curving around her body, casting half her beautiful face in darkness. Dark gold hair sys out on the couch. I admire her for a moment, sinking down to my knees to drink her in. I run my hand over her smooth abdomen, and her skin quivers.


    Those tits.


    Those hips.


    All mine.


    I want them in my mouth. The couch makes a sound as I lean forward, sying my hands on her breasts. Her chest blossoms with red and she bites her lips, a small moan easing out of her lips.


    ¡°You¡¯re mine, do you understand?¡±


    No, I can tell that she doesn¡¯t.


    ¡°Every inch of your body belongs to me tonight.¡±


    I grab ahold of her erect nipples and I pinch them hard. She arches her back and utters a small whimper. I kneel down and lean over her body. My mouth envelops her breast, tongue swirling around her nipple. Marisa arches her back again and grabs my head, uttering sounds that send jolts of electricity to my cock. I squeeze her hard, addicted to her soft flesh. She¡¯s so fucking hot.


    And mine.


    And the whole world will know it.


    I seize a mouthful of her breast and bite down. She bucks underneath me and squeals in pain but I don¡¯t stop until I¡¯m sure I¡¯ve left a mark. I pull back from her shaking body and I see red teeth marks on the side of her breast. It¡¯ll leave a nice bruise. Looking down her wless body, I see dozens of areas where I could leave a mark. Jesus.


    I look at her flushed face. ¡°The next time you squirm, I¡¯ll punish you.¡±


    Leaning over her again, I kiss the red mark, loving how her blood flushes to the surface. The stubble on my cheek scrapes her skin, and her skin trembles, anticipating the bite. God, I love her body. It¡¯s getting harder and harder not to lose control and fuck her senseless.


    My lips fasten over the area beneath her breasts. Her body tenses under my hands, but I only kiss her.


    ¡°Joe-please.¡±


    Hearing her voice filled with that urgent tone makes me want to grab my cock. Release. It wants release.


    No.


    Yes.


    Fuck.


    My hands grope her body as a trembling energy seizes hold of me. I kiss a brutal trail down her abdomen. I bite hard again, and she twists and yelps. She sits up and I grab her shoulders to shove her down, but she¡¯s irresistible. I kiss her panting lips while she undoes my shirt and rips it down my shoulders. Then she attacks me, her tits flush against my naked chest. Our warm bodies joined together. Oh, fuck. I can¡¯t hold off much longer.


    I sit down on the couch and yank her body over my legs, so that her smooth ass is under my hands.


    ¡°I want to hear you count how many times I spank you.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    I smile to myself. Fuck. Maybe Jack was right about her. All she needed was a good fuck, and she¡¯ll be mine. If this was all I had to do to get her to listen to me, I would have done it a long time ago.


    SMACK!


    The snapping sound of my hand spanking her ass echoes in the living room. Blood flushes to her skin.


    ¡°One,¡± she says in a small voice.


    My palm smoothes her red cheek, easing the pain of the smack. I¡¯m going to keep going until I see an imprint of my hand on her ass. Her face turns to the side to look at me. I raise my hand again and she flinches.


    SMACK!


    ¡°Two!¡± she gasps.


    I spank her again, loving the way she jumps in my hands.


    ¡°Three.¡±


    The burn from her skin seems to transfer into my palm. The air cracks with the sound of my palm striking her raw flesh, over and over, but she doesn¡¯t move. She gasps out thest number. Finally, I take her shoulders and pull her upright, onto myp. She turns into my arms, her ass sitting on my rock hard cock.


    Her fingers suddenly tighten around my rigid cock, through my cks. It thickens in her hands as she leans into my chest and kisses my ear. I¡¯m very sensitive there. Her tongue teases right below my ear, under my jaw. She nts a hot kiss there, and then moves along my jaw, making a zing trail. My heart pounds faster and her fingers tug at my cock. It jumps in her hands.


    ¡°Jesus.¡±


    ¡°Joe, you tease me,¡± she says, an inch from my face.


    I can¡¯t.


    She gasps as I stand up suddenly, yanking her arms to bring her upright. I had ns for her. I was going to make her suck my cock, and I was going to mark her a bit more-but my ns dissolve in my mind like flesh in acid.


    ¡°Hands behind your back.¡±


    She obeys and I spin her around so that her back faces me. Her ass is still bright red from my hand. My arm wraps around her waist and I pin her against me, my cock digging into her ass.


    ¡°See what you do to me?¡±


    Slowly, my body barely an inch from hers, I unravel the belt holding my cks. A shudder runs up her back when she hears my cks fall. I suck in breath sharply when she reaches behind herself and lightly grazes my cock. I wrap my belt around her wrists and loop it around and around. She whimpers when I thread the belt through the buckle and pull hard.


    Now she¡¯s on a leash. Completely helpless.


    I turn her around so that she can see me, all of me. Her blue eyes are fogged over, her mouth open as if I tied the belt around her neck. She¡¯s practically panting for me. I touch her hips, tracing my fingers around the delicate hipbones and then over her shaved pussy. It¡¯s incredibly warm to the touch. She opens her little mouth wider when I do that, blushing hard when I dip my hand and stroke her soaking clit.


    ¡°So wet for me.¡± The smirk in my voice makes her blush. ¡°And helpless.¡± I want to humiliate her. I want her to beg for me, even though I can barely handle having a tied up naked woman at my disposal. Fuck, I want her.


    She trembles forward, unsure on her feet. Her head follows me, desperately seeking a kiss. ¡°Are you just going to humiliate me, or are you going to fuck me?¡±


    If only she knew how hard I¡¯m working to keep myself from doing that. ¡°Maybe, if you¡¯re a good girl.¡±


    Her eyes sh. ¡°Enough of this crap.¡±


    Suddenly, I grip her jaw and give her a small p on her cheek. Not enough to hurt her, but enough to snap her out of this defiance. ¡°You haven¡¯t fucking let go once. I told you. I¡¯m in control, now. I decide when I fuck you, and if you want my cock inside your sweet pussy, you¡¯ll have to show me.¡±


    Her voice quakes with anger. ¡°Show you what?¡±


    ¡°Show me how much you want me.¡±


    The anger slowly disappears from her face, or it transforms into fervent desire. She kisses me hard, using her tongue, and then rips herself away from me just as quickly. Then she looks down at my waist and back at me. And smiles.


    Marisa sinks to her knees. Without her hands, she guides my cock into her mouth. The first contact of her lips makes me inhale sharply. It¡¯s like tongue on steel, flesh on fire. So sudden. So damn good. My hand flies to her head as her tongue moves up and down, and I unconsciously rock my hips into her mouth. Her tight, wet lips are like a suction on my dick. She sucks the head and I swear out loud.


    ¡°Goddamn it, Marisa. Yes. Just like that.¡±


    My hands wrap around her head and the urge to take control builds up inside my chest, right inside my heart. I bury myself deep inside her throat. She doesn¡¯t gag, and then I pump a few more times. It¡¯s so fucking hot. She¡¯s tied up and sucking my cock as if her life depends on it, her tongue making swirls on my shaft. The pressure builds behind my cock. I¡¯m going toe. I¡¯m going to, if I don¡¯t stop.


    I pull myself out of her lips, breathing hard with her. Then some sort of redness takes over my vision. I get like that sometimes when I¡¯m angry. Can¡¯t see anything else. It¡¯s sort of like that. A haze of desire, telling me what to do. It takes me a few seconds to pull her up and march her to the bedroom, and even less to shove her face first onto the bed.


    I yank the belt looped around her arms before she can fall and I climb up behind her. I give her thighs a vicious p, and she spreads them apart for me. My bulging cock pauses for a moment behind her pussy, and then I shove forward.


    Both of us sigh together as I slide into her. Using the belt wrapped around her hands, I thrust forward, yanking her body into my hips. She feels amazing. The tight wet walls contract around my cock, the coiling muscles tugging me as I pull out. Marisa moans so fucking loudly that I think I¡¯ve hurt her, but then her face twists around.


    ¡°Faster.¡±


    I grab her hips and she falls forward, her ass sticking up in the air. The wet smacking sounds of our bodies joining together make me wild. I rip my hand down on her ass, making the burn glow again. I lean forward and grab her silky hair, using it like a cor to make her back arch. My cock pulses inside her. She¡¯s so tight-so wet.


    ¡°Joe,¡± she says, her voice low. ¡°You feel so good.¡±


    I pull out suddenly and flip her around, her hands still tied around her back. She hitches her legs up and wraps them around my waist. I sink into her, meeting her lips with my thrusts. There¡¯s nothing like this feeling-like pounding the shit out of a woman who can barely breathe because you¡¯re fucking her so hard. Strangled, feminine gasps fill the bedroom. She cries out nonsensical words as my cock digs into her pussy.


    We¡¯re both lost in each other. I can only hear her moans, feel her damp, naked skin under mine, her legs tightened around my waist. Nothing else matters but mming my hips against her, again and again.


    ¡°Joe!¡±


    She screams my name and clenches her teeth, her eyes rolling in her head. Tight muscles contract over my cock, squeezing. Something between a yell and a groan bursts from my throat and I fall over her body, wrapping my arms around her neck. She arches her back, her breasts flush against my chest as pleasure rocks up my legs, making me grind into her. My teeth find her neck and I bite down hard just as my hips convulse with an orgasm so intense, I can feel it in my teeth. I open my mouth, gasping into her hair as the shockwaves continue to rock through my body.


    Jesus.


    Christ.


    Marisa lies underneath me, making a painful face. Oh, shit-her hands. I reach around and untie her, throwing the belt off the bed. Her delicate little hands reach up to touch my face and neck, looking up at me with a satisfied, sleepy look. She kisses me, her lips barely touching mine.


    ¡°Joe, you were amazing.¡±


    A smile finds its way across my face. The happy glow still radiates from my chest. ¡°Damn, I needed this.¡± Iy down on my side, conscious of the fact that I should leave now-but I¡¯m so fucking tired. What a stress relief. Every worry and every tinge of sadness has been fucked right out of me.


    She smiles. ¡°Me too.¡± Marisa traces my lips with a long finger. ¡°That heaviness is gone from your eyes.¡±


    I know exactly what she means, but I try to y dumb. I don¡¯t want to go there.


    ¡°I should get going.¡±


    Her fingers tense over my jaw. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°No strings, Marisa.¡±


    ¡°Oh,e on. That doesn¡¯t mean you can¡¯t stay.¡±


    No, it doesn¡¯t.


    Sheys her head on my chest and sudden exhaustion hits me hard. My eyes are heavy. I could stay. I want to stay.


    I should go.


    But her body curls around mine and I¡¯ve never felt so rxed and warm. Drifting off is too tempting, and I allow myself to close my eyes.

 3-16

    MARISA


    There¡¯s a saying I heard somewhere: All men are beautiful in the dark. It¡¯s only when the lights go on, that the superficial judgments begin.


    What a load of bullshit.


    Let¡¯s face it; most men I¡¯ve been with certainly were not beautiful in the dark. They were clumsy at worst and brief at best.


    It¡¯s the way he touches me. The way he fucks me. He makes me feel irresistible. While the rest-well, had their fun and that was that. I thought I had good sex, but I had no idea. I had no idea how good it could be. None of the men I was ever with were even on the same as Joe.


    But it¡¯s always the bad boys who are the best in bed, isn¡¯t it? The ones you can¡¯t keep, even if you wanted to.


    Disquiet stirs in my chest as I watch him swing his legs over the bed and stalk toward the living room. He thinks I¡¯m still asleep. He returns with his clothes in his arms, still mostly hidden by darkness but clearly audible.


    He¡¯s leaving right in the middle of the night like some asshole.


    I wait until he¡¯s fully dressed, silently hoping that he¡¯ll lean over and touch me to tell me he¡¯s leaving. He doesn¡¯t. Joe heads straight for the door.


    ¡°Going somewhere?¡±


    I hear him pause, and then he walks closer. ¡°Marisa?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m wide awake,¡± I say in a clear voice.


    Busted.


    He sits on the bed next to me. I can¡¯t make out a thing, just his silhouette. ¡°I¡¯ve got some work to do. I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t want to wake you.¡±


    He¡¯s obviously lying, and it hurts me. I¡¯m d it¡¯s dark, because if it wasn¡¯t he¡¯d see the sadness building up in my eyes.


    ¡°In the middle of the night?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± He cups my cheek and gives my head a kiss. ¡°See you around.¡±


    I cover his hand with mine, and sit up. He¡¯s already pulling away to leave, but I grab hispels and kiss him. His lips are soft, but mine want to devour him. His musky smell clouds around me, mixed with the faint smell of sex clinging to his skin.


    He pulls back and I feel the smile on my face. ¡°You¡¯re going to get me hard, and I need to leave.¡±


    ¡°I want you again.¡±


    ¡°Of course you do.¡±


    The smugness in his voice ought to be fined.


    I¡¯m not the only girl on his list. He probably has dozens of women lining up to fuck him. With how handsome he is and how great he is in bed, who can me them? But it still makes me burn with jealousy.


    His mouth hovers near my ear. ¡°I need to get going, but you¡¯ll be in my thoughts.¡±


    Sure, whatever. You don¡¯t need to sugarcoat it. ¡°Bye.¡±


    He did say no strings. I don¡¯t really have a right to be upset.


    The bed lifts as Joe stands up and gives me a final pat on the head. It feels conciliatory, and at once I have a bizarre urge to stand up and shove his chest.


    I turn around in bed, not even watching when he leaves my bedroom. My eyes shut when the front door opens and shuts.


    And then I feel cold.


    * * *


    My head buzzes with this man the whole ride to the casino. I can¡¯t get rid of him. His smell, his taste, his touch-I¡¯m addicted. He¡¯s like an infection. Joe makes me feverish.


    What is it about him? I keep asking myself.


    I don¡¯t know. I really don¡¯t. Maybe the way he coldly brushes me aside makes me want him even more. Isn¡¯t that sick?


    Yeah, pretty sick.


    He didn¡¯t so much as text me the next day¡­or the day after. Yeah, I was used, and it makes me feel like crap. I¡¯m just going to go to work, check the fucking financial statements thate in every week and supervise the construction, make sure everything¡¯s on track to be finished by June, and then I¡¯ll go back home and gorge on Spaghetti-o¡¯s. I loved the crocodile shaped ones as a kid, but they don¡¯t make them anymore. Maybe I¡¯ll watch Lion King-No, it¡¯s too sad.


    I can¡¯t think about family right now. My dad¡¯s dead and the brother I looked up to hates every fiber of my being. He wants to see me buried. Jessica? Who the hell knows where she is? She doesn¡¯t return my phone calls.


    Alone.


    I¡¯m utterly alone.


    I¡¯m so goddamn sick of it. I wish I could talk to someone about my fucked up feelings for Joe. Who would understand? I don¡¯t even understand it. I stomp up the steps as I exit the subway, determined not to get down. Dad wouldn¡¯t have wanted it this way.


    The Worlds Casino sign hangs in the sky, the ck letters against a white background. Simple. Clean. I admire the new sign as I walk around, heading for the executive entrance on the side of the building. There¡¯s a busted floodlight on the side and I stop, looking at the shattered ss below my feet. Goddamn it. They¡¯re not cheap, and money¡¯s tight.


    I enter the building and climb up to my office. A sh of golden hair in the hallway makes my heart pound. Nathan pauses for a moment. I tense and give him a nod, which he ignores. Sighing, I enter my office. Are we going to be like this forever? I just want to make up for Dad¡¯s sake.


    The day at work passes by slowly. I¡¯m drowned in emails, and the weekly financial report makes me want to cry.


    ¡°Hey, there.¡±


    The low, lilting voice, suddenly at my ear, makes me jump horribly. Joe closes the door behind him and locks it, a devilish grin on his face. He¡¯s dressed in a slim-fitted suit as ck as sin and he looks at me as if he has seen me naked, which, he has.


    He crosses the room without presumption, aware of the way he makes me feel. Even now, the sight of him makes me feel horribly exposed, as if my secrets are on disy. But more than that-he makes me so incredibly hot.


    ¡°H-hi,¡± I say finally.


    Joe stands over me, cocking his head to look down my blouse. He takes my neck in his hand, and his thumb rubs the faint bruise I covered with makeup. He touches it for a moment, admiring his handiwork. I take his hand away, heart pounding. ¡°Joe, you can¡¯t do this here.¡±


    He grabs the arms of my chair. ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°Because,¡± I sputter. ¡°I don¡¯t want my coworkers knowing about us.¡±


    ¡°Us?¡±


    ¡°This arrangement we have.¡±


    Joe¡¯s rough palms slide over my bare arms, and then he pulls me up so that he can take my seat. He hooks an arm around my waist and I slide onto hisp.


    ¡°You¡¯re mine and I¡¯ll have you when I want.¡±


    I melt into his arms, loving his strength around me, his possessive hands grabbing my waist, his hot mouth, giving me affectionate kisses on my neck. I want more of this. I want him all the time.


    ¡°I like this skirt.¡±


    His hands are not on my skirt. They squeeze my legs, plucking my pantyhose.


    ¡°Easy ess.¡±


    His hand creeps up my thigh and his lowugh makes a shiver run up my spine. ¡°So I guess this means you¡¯re still interested in me.¡±


    ¡°If I didn¡¯t, I wouldn¡¯t have my hand up your skirt.¡± He gives me another peck on my cheek.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t call or anything, I just assumed-¡±


    ¡°I told you I would y with you in return for your protection. I never said I¡¯d be a gentleman.¡±


    What if I don¡¯t want to be yed with?


    But I do. I do. The air feels thin and my mouth opens. His mouth and tongue y with my neck as his hands slowly unbutton my dress shirt. The cool air stings my skin, but his hand warms me. Before I know it, my blouse is yanked down my shoulders. Joe¡¯s expert hands undo my bra. My legs part as he pulls it down my shoulders and tosses it aside. Then he reaches around my skin and grabs my tits.


    Holy shit.


    Moisture gathers in my panties, making me ufortable.


    ¡°Joe, this is-this is crazy.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s crazy is that you¡¯re hiding this body of yours.¡±


    He squeezes my breasts and I shudder, leaning back against his chest as an ache pounds between my legs like a second heartbeat.


    Christ, be sensible. You can¡¯t have sex in an office. You¡¯re the President of thepany? What would Dad say?


    ¡°Joe, we can¡¯t do this here.¡±


    ¡°Says who?¡± He runs a light finger around my nipple and I bite my lip hard, uttering a small moan. Heughs in response. ¡°You agreed to be at my beck and call. I¡¯ll fuck you whenever I want.¡± His voice drops to a whisper. ¡°Let¡¯s face it, you want this as much as I do.¡±


    His finger grazes against the fabric of my panties, right along the line of where my clit throbs. It¡¯s very sensitive, and the moment he touches it, I arch my back and heave a big sigh.


    ¡°Maybe you want this more than I do,¡± he observes with a grin. ¡°That¡¯s okay, though. I like it when my woman needs me.¡±


    I do need him. At least, I need passion. That¡¯s what was missing in my life, and he makes me feel alive. He makes me forget about all the shit in my life.


    My nipples graze over the coarse fabric of his suit as I turn around in his arms, yanking his head into mine as we kiss with a crazed energy. He massages the smear of purple on my shoulder that I spent all morning trying to hide. There are more bruises on my abdomen, and Joe looks at them with a glint of pride in his eyes.


    ¡°You look so sexy with all of my marks over your body.¡±


    I run my hands over his broad chest, loving how hard his body is. I undo the first few buttons as he looks at me with a slightly drunk expression.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t let me return the favor.¡±


    His face breaks into a wide smile, as if I¡¯ve just said a hrious joke. ¡°Right.¡±


    A sprinkling of dark hair peeks through his shirt. I unbutton the whole thing and warm my hands over his body. He closes his eyes in contentment as I lean forward, kissing his Adam¡¯s apple, feeling it bob against my lips. Then I aim my head lower, kissing the corbone that juts out of his olive skin. I bite the delicate skin and suck hard, until a bright red mark glows against it. I feel his chuckle through my mouth.


    ¡°That¡¯s all I allow you to give me.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll allow?¡±


    Amusement shines from his eyes. ¡°Who do you think is in charge here?¡±


    I smile against his chest, feeling suddenly rebellious.


    ¡°Don¡¯t do it, Marisa.¡±


    I do it.


    I bite him on a second spot, hard. He reacts faster than I can process. Suddenly, his hand is around my throat, squeezing, and I¡¯m syed on my desk.


    ¡°I told you not to do it. Do you have a hard time hearing, or are you just stupid?¡±


    My teeth clench together. ¡°None of the above.¡±


    His legs tten against mine. I feel his cock digging into my flesh like a steel bar. ¡°Or maybe you wanted to provoke me because you like having my hands on your ass. You like being punished.¡±


    Before that night, I would have never even fathomed that kind of sex. The way he talked to me, the things he did-all of it was degrading. Disgusting. Except it wasn¡¯t disgusting. It was incredible. So maybe I do want him like that.


    He turns me around so that I¡¯m ttened against my desk, and then he lifts my skirt up over my back. His fingernails scrape my skin as he pulls down my pantyhose and underwear. I sigh when I feel the warmth of his hands on my ass, but that sigh rises into a yelp almost immediately.


    SMACK!


    The sound carries through the office, probably even through the door. My cheeks me when I think about what my coworkers would think if they tried to investigate and found a locked door, and heard the voice of two people. Jesus, this is crazy.


    The fear and embarrassment makes me want him to hurry up. His palm rubs the spot where he spanked me, and I bite down hard as he ps the left side.


    ¡°Joe, not too loud. They¡¯ll hear-¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that? Are you trying to give me orders?¡± His voice trembles withughter.


    I sigh loudly. ¡°I¡¯m serious.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m serious, too.¡±


    His hand rips across my skin, inming the already raw flesh. My voice cries out and I immediately cover my mouth in horror. Joe¡¯s hand smoothes over the burn spreading over my skin, and then finally I hear his belt looping out of his pants, which drop to the floor. I look over my shoulder, and he coils the belt in his hands. There¡¯s nothing funny about the look on his face. It¡¯s intense. It makes the breath hitch in my throat.


    ¡°Joe, please.¡±


    The belt cracks through the air,nding on my burning skin. I cover my mouth just in time to scream into my hand. Tears of pain swim in my eyes, but Joe immediately drops the belt and soothes my body.


    ¡°That¡¯s going to leave a nice mark.¡±


    His fingers grab my hips and suddenly a different sensation runs all of the pain out of my mind. His hardness slides up and down my clit, igniting a firestorm of desire inside my walls. I hate how reedy my voice is.


    ¡°Please.¡±


    For once, he obliges me without drawing anything else from me. I stretch my hands and grab the edge of my desk as his hips push forward. He sinks into me, the thickness spreading me open. I move my legs apart without realizing, waiting for that perfect moment when he buries himself as deep as he can go. Then it happens. He grinds against me and the very head of his cock strikes my core. I clench around it, gasping into my desk as he keeps himself buried inside me. He pumps into me, yanking my hips back to hit inside me so deeply that pain mingles with the pleasure. It¡¯s a sweet pain that only feels better and better the more he fucks me.


    There¡¯s a roar in my ears that pounds in tune with his thrusts. He fucks me like he needs it, like every cell of his cries out for me. He fucks me so hard that it knocks the air out of my chest. I¡¯m almost afraid of the sounds he¡¯s making, until he pulls out and turns me around.


    Pure, shaking desire shines from his face.


    I¡¯m amazed by the strength in his arms. He lifts me up onto my desk with scarcely a sigh, and then my legs wrap around him. His hands grab my hips and he groans, face lifted to the ceiling as he enters me again. Holy shit, he feels even better the second time.


    It¡¯s like a mad race. He pounds the desk-my files spill all over the floor, the pencil holder rolls off, all of it feels like a metaphor for the most explosive sex I¡¯ve ever had. He grapples my neck and holds me down, his expression contorted. I¡¯m lifting up and up. Closer and closer. Then he grabs my tits and squeezes as onest thrust jars my body. He pounds again with a huge sigh, his cock still rock-hard as my own orgasm twitches in my core and explodes like a bomb.


    Joe gives me a sleepy grin and pulls out of me, tossing aside the condom wrapped around his dick. I¡¯m still too shattered to move a muscle.


    ¡°Oh my God.¡±


    There are really no other words.


    He leans down, smiling, and grabs my shoulders to help me up. ¡°I didn¡¯t n on fucking you on your desk, but I couldn¡¯t resist the opportunity.¡±


    His voice sounds strained, as if he just finished running a marathon.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Cause you¡¯re so goddamn gorgeous.¡±


    That¡¯s a sweet thing to say. From the way he looks at me, I can tell that he means it. His eyes are heavily lidded and his lips are set in a neutral line, almost as if he can¡¯t believe a girl like me would be with him. It¡¯s strange, because it¡¯s what I think of him. He¡¯s too beautiful, too dark, too experienced to want me.


    But he doesn¡¯t really want you. He just wants your body.


    It¡¯s like a blow to my chest. I step back from him and grab my pantyhose and underwear, shoving them back on. Sensing my mood, he gives me a puzzled look.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I can do this.¡±


    His face darkens and I feel a small bump of fear. Joe¡¯s not used to being told ¡°no.¡± Even though my mind is determined, my body wants him. I touch his waist as he exhales through his nose.


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand why girls always have toplicate things.¡±


    ¡°I want more than just-¡±


    ¡°-than just me giving you the best sex of your life?¡± He doesn¡¯t look angry. He looks amused.


    I turn away from him and I grab my bra off the floor, feeling like an idiot. ¡°Just forget it.¡±


    His soft fingers at my jaw turn my head back towards him. His mouth is an inch away and I feel strangely light-headed like I always do when he touches me.


    ¡°You don¡¯t know me. You just want me because you¡¯re lonely, because I¡¯ve saved your ass from your psycho brother, and because I fuck you like you want to be fucked. But you don¡¯t want me.¡±


    Even though some of that rings true-I am lonely-that doesn¡¯t mean that I don¡¯t admire him. He was very sweet with me at Coney Ind. I just want more of that.


    ¡°That¡¯s not true.¡±


    He sighs impatiently. ¡°You don¡¯t know me.¡±


    ¡°I know that you¡¯re bad at air hockey.¡±


    He rolls his eyes.


    How? How can I show him that I want him?


    There¡¯s some kind of sadness in his eyes, too. That deep-seated emptiness that made me so unnerved by him in the first ce. He got better as I got to know him. He lost that soulless look, but it¡¯s back now.


    Joe takes both shoulders in his hands. He strokes my skin with his thumbs and I bite my lip to keep from sighing.


    ¡°I thought I was pretty clear from the beginning. Just sex. Just fun.¡±


    It was never that simple. He helped me with my brother twice andforted me.


    ¡°I know, but I can¡¯t help it. It doesn¡¯t feel like just sex to me.¡±


    ¡°Well, it is to me.¡±


    The hardness in his voice almost makes me want to pull away from him, to run and hide. He¡¯s not trying to be cruel, but it feels like it anyway.N?vel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.


    Of course.


    I¡¯m not special. Not to him anyway.


    Just let it go.


    I find my blouse and slip it on, buttoning it back up as Joe looks at me with a ck-jawed expression. I sit back down on my chair and open myptop, trying to tease my hair into something that doesn¡¯t scream, ¡°I just had sex!¡±


    Considering the man I¡¯m interested in is in the fucking mafia, I should be d that he doesn¡¯t want anything more. What in the fucking fuck is wrong with me? Why do I feel so devastated right now?


    When I look up, he¡¯s still standing there. My lips press together. ¡°Is there something you need me to do?¡±


    His face softens. ¡°Don¡¯t be like that.¡±


    I try to focus on the screen. I try not to hold in my breath when he walks closer, but it¡¯s impossible. His finger strokes the side of my face.


    ¡°If you want to fuck me, then fuck me. If not, then get out.¡±


    Joe¡¯s snideughter rings in my ears. ¡°All right. See youter.¡±


    The door ms a little hard behind him, the walls vibrating a little more than they should.

 3-17

    I don¡¯t want to be one of those pathetic women, who hangs on to a guy even after he¡¯s stated hispleteck of interest, but I feel like I might be one.


    I regret it.


    Why couldn¡¯t I just enjoy it, like he said?


    The office darkens as I shut off the light, and I trudge downstairs by myself, avoiding the noisy lights of the entrance.


    Because I¡¯m a fucking idiot, that¡¯s why.


    The door opens in front of me as I push, and I step into the night. The parking lot is eerily silent and the powerful lights flooding the area freak me out, for some reason. Everything is too white. My footsteps seem to echo too loudly as I approach my car.


    Somehow, I know that I¡¯m being watched.


    I bundle my jacket around my waist, suddenly cold as I feel a breeze, but it¡¯s not a breeze. There¡¯s movement behind me. I spin around, as a sharp pain pierces my chest and a man throws something ck-something soft over my head. The ck hood swallows my scream as he twists my arms behind my back and I hear the scream of a car rapidly approaching.


    ¡°Nathan, what are you doing?¡±


    It has to be him. He got me while Joe wasn¡¯t around.


    I grapple with him wildly, kicking out with my foot only for it to connect hard with solid metal. My scream of pain echoes in the parking lot and then he grunts, opening a door and next thing I know, I¡¯m shoved inside.


    ¡°Shut the fuck up. Frank, shut her up!¡±


    A man with a strong Jersey ent in the front seat talks to the man sitting beside me.


    ¡°Nathan! Nathan, don¡¯t do this!¡±


    The car moves and I lunge for the passenger side door, colliding with a man who blocks my exit.


    ¡°Fuckin¡¯ crazy broad. Stay still!¡±


    ¡°NATHAN, PLEASE!¡±


    I¡¯m out of my mind with terror. Never has the edge between life and death been so clear. I¡¯m abducted and in a car, and no one wille looking for me. Not Joe, certainly not my siblings. I imagine my clothes ripped from my body, the faceless men in the car shoving apart my legs to rape me. I try to rip off the hood, and a huge fist ms into the side of my head. Stars burst in the ckness as I keel over like a falling tree, blinded by throbbing pain. Ind on someone¡¯s knee, but he shoves me off roughly.


    ¡°Sit down and don¡¯t fight, or you¡¯ll get another one.¡±


    ¡°Please. Just let me talk to Nathan. Let me exin-¡±


    ¡°Who the fuck is Nathan?¡±


    The low voice to my right, Frank, asks the question.


    ¡°Just shut up, Ms. Toffoli,¡± says the same man from the passenger seat. ¡°It¡¯ll be over soon. We just want to talk.¡±


    Through the pain pounding in my skull, there¡¯s confusion. We? Who is we? My hands fly out as the car makes a sudden left turn. ¡°Who are you?¡±


    A second blow connects with the back of my head and I m into the passenger seat. Tears burst from my eyes as the pain radiates down my neck. The men in the carugh as I curl into myself. Tears drip down my face, soaking through the ck cotton hood. I want to cry out from the pain, so I stuff my fist in my mouth for half an hour and moan into it until the car stops.


    The hood rips from my head and sudden brightness blinds my eyes. Frank, a stout man with pockmarked skin, yanks my arm. I stumble out of the grey Mercedes, looking around wildly. We¡¯re in the midst of a crumbling neighborhood, the kind that I¡¯d never walk through alone. Three other men surround me as I¡¯m shoved down the street and into a dank building, which I recognize as a restaurant. There are dozens of holes gouged into the walls, small round holes that look suspiciously like bullet holes. The strangest feeling creeps up my back.


    A man in his forties with a rectangr face stares at me from a table. He¡¯s dressed in a pinstriped suit. Frank pushes the small of my back and I stumble forward on shaky legs. They want me to sit with this man, whoever he is. A decanter of wine sits in front of him and two wine sses.


    ¡°Who are you? Why am I here?¡± I can barely force the words from my lips.


    ¡°Please, sit down. My name is Jamie. Jamie Ti. I represent Carmine Lhesi.¡±


    I pull back the chair, hyper aware of the men crowding around the table. One ces his hands on his hips and I see a sh of silver. A gun.


    Oh, God. I¡¯m going to die here.N?vel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.


    I copse into the chair, feeling faint as Jamie gives me a shrewd look. ¡°I-I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t know who that is.¡±


    He takes the decanter of wine and slowly pours himself a ss. Briefly, he looks at me as it hovers over the second ss. Like I¡¯d drink anything they¡¯d give to me. I shake my head.


    He swirls the ss and inhales deeply. ¡°You¡¯ve been missing payments for weeks, Ms. Toffoli. Where¡¯s my money?¡±


    I stare at him, aghast. ¡°Are-Do you know Jack? Is this part of his-¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re in Jersey,¡± he growls. ¡°The Vittorios have no hold over me here. Your Dad and the Lhesi family recently began a business rtionship together. You owe us four payments. Ten grand each.¡±


    Are you fucking kidding me?


    ¡°Listen, my Dad never told me about any of his business arrangements. I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    He straightens in his seat and folds his arms, looking unimpressed by my argument.


    ¡°Are you men in the New York mafia?¡±


    Jamie looks around at the others in disbelief and turns back towards me. ¡°I just fucking told you that you¡¯re in Jersey. We¡¯re the Carmine Lhesi outfit. I represent him, which makes me God to you.¡±


    The guys surrounding us let out appreciative chuckles.


    Suck-ups.


    ¡°Why are there bullet holes all over this ce?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re sitting at the table where Carmine ughtered Tony Rizzo, the old boss, and his entire crew.¡± Jamie smiles, as if reflecting on his fondest memory.


    They¡¯re all a bunch of psychopaths. I didn¡¯t even know there was more than one family.


    Of course there is, you idiot.


    Oh, Jesus. Dad, what the fuck did you get me into?


    Frank grabs the back of his chair and looks at me. ¡°Jamie, it¡¯s possible she didn¡¯t know about our arrangement. Her father died a few weeks ago and we¡¯ve never seen any of his kids around him. It¡¯s possible he never even told them about us.¡±


    Jamie takes a huge sip of wine and ms the ss on the table. ¡°What a fucking mess.¡± He slips a hand inside his jacket and I back into the chair as he points the gun straight at my heart.


    ¡°We also know that you¡¯ve been double dealing with New York, and that shit is going to stop right now.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t do that!¡±


    My chest feels like a drum, pounding blood so violently that I shake from its force. Jamie¡¯s gun aims at my face and I flinch.


    ¡°What am I supposed to do? They threatened me and my family.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s simple, Ms. Toffoli. You need to make a choice. Them or us.¡±


    My fingernails dig into the armchairs. ¡°Either way, I¡¯ll die, and your fat paycheck will disappear.¡±


    He smirks. ¡°Then sell thepany to us. Lences Holdings is owned by one of our partners. Let the sale go through, and we¡¯ll forget about any payments owed.¡±


    I¡¯ll still be killed. Joe might do it himself.


    The gun lies t on the table as he takes another drink, his teeth stained purple. Even if I sold thepany to them, there would be no guarantee of my safety. I could testify against them, put them in jail. I¡¯m only safe as long as I dy the shit out of this decision.


    ¡°Choose wisely, Ms. Toffoli, and stay the fuck away from Joey DiFiore. We¡¯ll be watching you.¡±


    Frank shoves me from the chair and I throw my hands out, connecting with a tiled floor that looks suspiciously stained with a dark red substance that can only be blood. Laughter roars around me as I get up in disgust, wiping my palms on my cks. Somehow, I don¡¯t really feel any fear as I¡¯m escorted out of the ce.


    Just shock.


    They don¡¯t bother to put the hood on me as they drive me to some shitty area of what I¡¯m guessing is Newark. The car stops abruptly and Frank raises his foot and kicks me out of the car. My back ms into the pavement and I wheeze as the air is knocked out of me. Smoke blows over my face as the car screams away, leaving me alone in the streets. Several passersby approach me with concerned faces.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine!¡± My palms are bleeding and my head still pounds from the blows.


    One of them is already on the phone with police, and I limp away, terrified. ¡°Hey, where are you going?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine!¡± I scream over and over, even when I realize I have no idea where I am or how to get back. The screams die down to whispers that I utter to myself.


    Fine. You¡¯re fine.


    You¡¯ll just have to fool both of them, that¡¯s all. Everything will be fine.

 3-18

    Four sick days. Four days of looking at myself in the mirror and trying to hide the huge bruise the size of a moon crater on the side of my face with makeup. Four days of eating canned vegetables, and whatever else I can scrounge in the house because I¡¯m too terrified to leave. Four days of ignoring all phone calls.


    Dad hated me.


    He must have. Why else would he put me in this position? Why would he allow all this?


    Tears fall thick and fast down my swollen face, which refuses to go down. Ice only does so much. I wish I had a friend to talk to about all this. Hell, I¡¯m even willing to talk to Nathan, but I don¡¯t think it¡¯s safe for anyone to know about this. Not yet.


    What am I supposed to do?


    I can¡¯t go on like this forever. Eventually, I¡¯ll have to make a choice. New York or New Jersey. Death or death.


    I could talk to the police.


    Yes, talking to the police might be my only viable option, but that still leaves Nathan and Jessica to the mercy of the families. And I¡¯ll be admitting to crimes that might put me in jail for a long time. Is prison any better than death, really?


    Randy the Rhino dances on the t screen television, but looking at the bright screen hurts my raw eyes. No amount of cartoons and chocte can disguise the fact that literally no one gives a shit about me. Despite eating an entire box of Annie¡¯s rabbit-shaped mac ¡®n cheese, there¡¯s a hole in my stomach. I feel just as hungry as I was before.


    I turn the TV off and stand up from the white leather couch that I foolishly bought when I first moved in. In less than a year the whiteness lost its shine.


    Stop feeling sorry for yourself and think of a n!


    A fist hammers against the door and immediately I clutch my chest, wincing against the panic seizing it. They¡¯re already here! Shit-


    Don¡¯t make a sound.


    ¡°Marisa?¡±


    Joe¡¯s voice booms through the crack of the door and I stiffen, my arms held awkwardly at my sides. I don¡¯t dare breathe.


    ¡°I know you¡¯re in there. Your car is in the garage. I¡¯m sorry for what I said, all right?¡±


    Fuck.


    The fact that he thinks I¡¯m harboring some sort of petty grudge over his rejection makes me want tough. If only.


    I walk tremulously towards the door. ¡°Go away! I¡¯m not well!¡±


    His fistnds with a thud on the door. ¡°Four days, Marisa! You can¡¯t just ignore my calls, no matter how pissed you are at me. Open the door, or I¡¯ll let myself in anyway.¡±


    I bristle as he rattles the doorknob. ¡°Can¡¯t I just have one fucking day without any of you mafia pieces of shit disturbing me?¡±


    He ms the door. ¡°Okay, now you really need to open the door. Now, Marisa!¡±


    Fine.


    If he¡¯s here to scream at me, whatever. Get it over with. If he¡¯s here to shoot me? Even better.


    My hand trembles as I grab ahold of the golden deadbolt and unlock the door. Joe shoves the door open before I can twist the handle and ms it closed behind him. My heart squeezes at the sight of him. He¡¯s wearing a leather jacket over a t-shirt and jeans. I¡¯ve never really understood the whole ¡°sight for sore eyes¡± expression until now. I missed him. I want him.


    His eyes ze with heat as he enters my apartment. ¡°What the fuck-oh, shit.¡± His voice drops and so does the fury on his face as he reaches forward without my permission. Joe¡¯s gentle hands cradle my face, brushing back my hair to examine the bruise. ¡°What happened?¡±


    I¡¯m taken aback by the gentleness in his voice, and to my shame I feel tears stinging my eyes. His fingers press into the back of my head and a dull pain throbs inside me. I pull away with a small yelp and he removes his hands, looking stricken.


    ¡°Jesus, they fucked you up.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about it.¡±


    ¡°Your brother did this, didn¡¯t he?¡±


    ¡°No!¡± I brush past him into the living room, not surprised when he follows me. I sink into the couch cushions and Joe joins me, his thigh pressing against mine. My heart kicks up again as he turns towards me.


    ¡°All this time, I thought you were just pissed at me,¡± he says in a low voice, guilt written all over his face. ¡°What happened?¡±


    My eyes flit away from his intense gaze. ¡°I got jumped. They stole my wallet.¡±


    ¡°And they punched your head?¡± He quirks an eyebrow and nces at the kitchen counter. My wallet lies there, in as day. ¡°Nice try. Your wallet is right there.¡±


    Crap. I might have thought of a decent lie before inviting him in. ¡°I-I bought a new one already.¡±


    ¡°So if I looked in there, I wouldn¡¯t see a bunch of your cards in there?¡±


    ¡°N-no.¡±


    He gets up, giving me a suspicious look as he strides to the counter. I stand up, heart hammering. ¡°No, don¡¯t-it¡¯s none of your business!¡±


    The wallet flips open, revealing all of my cards. He looks at me with a strained grin. ¡°Why the fuck are you lying to me?¡±


    I sit down on the couch, m-like. You fell down stairs. You ran into a pole. Got into a bar fight. Excuses, lies, and alibis run through my head, each one feebler than thest.


    ¡°Was it an ex-boyfriend?¡±


    I shake my head and he approaches the couch again, sitting beside me. It¡¯s hard to be next to him without feeling that fluttering heat, without wanting to trust him. He gently takes my chin, turning it slightly to see the extent of my injury.


    ¡°Marisa, I need you to tell me who did this.¡±


    ¡°Why? So you can tell the police?¡±


    The darkness in his eyes terrifies me. ¡°So I can make sure he never does it again.¡±


    I tremble from the heat in his voice and wonder why he cares so much. Then I look at the coffee table. It¡¯s strewn with crap-mostly empty candy wrappers and bottles of beer. At the center of it all is a framed photo of my dad. He wears a small smile, his eyes twinkling at the camera almost apologetically.


    My throat is thick and I can¡¯t see him anymore. Everything is a blur. I blink and my vision clears, tears scalding my cheeks. My chest heaves and I gasp for breath, and before I know it I¡¯ve copsed into my hands. I¡¯m just overwhelmed with all this shit. The grief from my dad¡¯s passing, it¡¯s still there, but it¡¯s so fuckingplicated now.


    ¡°Marisa, tell me what happened.¡± He sounds as if he¡¯s in pain.


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°If you don¡¯t, I¡¯ll go to your brother,¡± he says in a raw voice.


    I gasp into my hands. ¡°Please just let this go.¡±


    ¡°How the fuck am I supposed to let this go? Look at you! This is my job!¡±


    ¡°If I¡¯m just a job to you, then leave,¡± I say in a thick voice.


    My face hurts so badly that the tears feel like they¡¯re being squeezed out. I feel like shit. Joe sits beside me, sighing with frustration. He wants to help me, and I want to believe him. I want so badly to tell him-to tell someone, but I can¡¯t breathe a word, no matter how bad it gets. I turn towards my hands and bury my face in them again. I gasp for breath and sob into them, never feeling so miserable and alone as I do now. The weight of the whole world crashes on my shoulders. I just want to lie down and never get up again.


    The hostility evaporates from his voice. ¡°Come here.¡±


    He just sounds sad.


    I fall into theforting warmth of his chest, pulled in by his strong arms. He even takes my legs and they drape across hisp. God, he¡¯s so warm. I turn my head into the crook of his neck and breathe in his sharp male scent. It soothes me. His hands move over my thighs, gently caressing.


    ¡°This had nothing to do with our end, did it?¡± His voice wavers slightly and he clears his throat. ¡°Right?¡±


    ¡°No, it didn¡¯t,¡± I say into his chest, which expands suddenly and exhales.


    ¡°Why can¡¯t you tell me, then?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t pretend like you care.¡±


    ¡°Do you think I¡¯d be here, holding you like this if I didn¡¯t?¡±


    A tingling sensation spreads over my skin when he brushes back a strand of hair.


    He said no strings.


    ¡°Why?¡± I whisper it into his chest, but somehow he hears me anyway.


    ¡°You need someone.¡±


    It¡¯s true. Maybe I am transparent to everyone. Maybe I¡¯m just a poor, pathetic, whiny girl, but right now I¡¯m d he¡¯s with me.


    The urge to confess grows stronger inside me, building up in a storm of tears. ¡°I don¡¯t want to do this anymore,¡± I choke. ¡°I can¡¯t handle it-I just want to disappear.¡±


    His voice is as taut as a wire. ¡°You don¡¯t mean that.¡±


    ¡°Oh, but I do. My dad died and it¡¯s been a nightmare ever since. There¡¯s no hope, no end in sight. I just want to go to sleep and not wake up again.¡± The secret desire in my heart-to be sleeping next to my dad. I never thought it consciously, but now I am. To sleep forever-it seems like such a nice thing.


    His fingers bite into my arms. ¡°Do not say that.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t understand what I¡¯m going through.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I do.¡±


    How could he understand?


    When he continues, it¡¯s in a voice removed of all emotion. ¡°Eight months ago, my sister was murdered.¡±


    My heart freezes in my chest, and I unstick my face from his chest to look at him. He looks just like how his voice sounds: dead.


    ¡°She was shot identally in a store that was being robbed. She was unlucky, you know. Just at the wrong ce at the wrong time.¡± He pauses for a moment and shuts his eyes. ¡°I thought my world was ending. She was my best friend, and I still don¡¯t know how to go on without her. I¡¯m still trying to figure that out. After she died, the world didn¡¯t make sense anymore. I didn¡¯t think I could everugh again.¡±


    I take his hand in mine, touched by the love he still feels for his sister. A hollow feeling expands in my chest, swallowing all of my misery. I can¡¯t even imagine what that must have been like for him. His hooded eyes look so sad.


    ¡°I know what it¡¯s like to be overwhelmed with loss. You didn¡¯t just lose your dad, you lost your siblings, and the job you thought you had-the respect you held for your dad. That doesn¡¯t mean your life is over, Marisa. It doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯ll neverugh again.¡±


    ¡°Sometimes, it feels like that.¡±


    Them or us.


    Jamie¡¯s voice hisses in my ear and I feel a sudden sh of pain apanied by a wave of heat. I wince and grab the icepack sitting on the table to hold it to my burning face. Nauseating dread fills my stomach, and even Joe¡¯s reassuring hands don¡¯t make me feel better.


    ¡°You¡¯re in deep with someone. I¡¯m going to find out eventually, Marisa.¡±


    Every part of me singes wherever he touches my skin. He massages the base of my neck. ¡°I can¡¯t.¡±


    His fingers ball into my hair as he lets out a forceful sigh. ¡°You¡¯re driving me fucking crazy.¡±


    ¡°Sorry.¡±


    ¡°This isn¡¯t just about a job I have to do for Jack. If someone did something like this to my sister, I¡¯d destroy them.¡±


    The ferocity in his eyes fans out like mes, so much so that I tremble from their intensity. What if that violence was directed towards me? At the same time, I¡¯m jealous. My brother would probably gloat if he saw me like this.


    ¡°Your sister was lucky to have a brother like you.¡±


    His eyes ze over and he abruptly stands up from the couch, turning away from me with a shuddering sigh. Did I say something wrong?


    A lump rises in my throat, as he heads for the door. Please don¡¯t go. I¡¯m desperate to say something that¡¯ll stall him.


    ¡°Do you want something to drink?¡±


    The various knick-knacks on the kitchen counter rattle as he ms his fist on the marble. I¡¯m on my feet before I realize it, raising a tentative hand to his shoulder. He throws it off roughly, and then he grabs my hands. His lip curls.


    I flinch horribly and try to draw breath from a rapidly shrinking hole in my chest. I remember their rough hands on me, pping my face. He notices my fear and a deste look haunts his face.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know why you¡¯re acting like this,¡± he says in a desperate voice. It¡¯s unlike him. ¡°I¡¯m here to help you. Why can¡¯t you just let me?¡±


    Because I don¡¯t trust you yet.


    ¡°I want to, but I can¡¯t.¡±


    I look back towards him unblinkingly, until he lets go of my hands with a growl.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got to go.¡±


    My heart seizes in a way that makes me feel absolutely miserable. His feet clip over the hardwood floors as he walks to the door. I follow him as he turns around to say goodbye.


    ¡°I have to report this to Jack.¡±


    Don¡¯t go. Please don¡¯t go.


    My lip quivers and a tear runs down my face, and Joe looks at me like I¡¯ve destroyed his life.


    ¡°See you soon.¡±


    He reaches out and touches my face again, fingers brushing lightly on my bruised skin.


    * * *


    Make a decision.


    Choose.


    New York or New Jersey?


    The decision seems like it would be an easy one, but both families have left behind a trail of bodies.Content provided by N?velDrama.Org.


    Carmine Lhesi ughters Jersey mob boss and crew


    Mass-murderer Lhesi convicted; sentenced to life


    Vittorio family mobster indicted on charges of fraud, racketeering, murder


    Vincent Cesare, notorious Vittorio mobster, evades jail again


    I wish I could be a mouse. I want to scurry away and burrow in a soft ce and just hide from everything and everyone. The light from myptop shines with the intensity of a small sun. I close the lid and stare at my desk, extremely grateful that Joe isn¡¯t here today.


    Also weighing on my mind-the forty grand I supposedly owe. There¡¯s another board meeting at the end of the week, where Nathan will undoubtedly push for the sale of thepany.


    I need to decide.


    Soon.


    I decide to take a stroll out of the office. Heads perk up from cubicles and chimes of greetings echo as I walk by. A forced smile stretches my face as the greetings fall on my ears. I wonder if any of them really care about me-about my dad. Was he surrounded by sycophants? Is that why he allowed thepany to fall into disrepair?


    Either way, my first priority will be to get the casino out of the clutches of the Vittorio family. By any means necessary. I¡¯ll need to make some cutbacks; I probably will have to let some people go. The VP of marketing is in my crosshairs. So far, his efforts have failed to bring in more traffic into the casino. We should be at college campuses, at the airport, drumming up interest in the casino.


    ¡°Marisa, how¡¯s it going?¡±


    The man I met at the funeral, James ckwell, jogs to my side as I walk along to security.


    ¡°All right,¡± I grunt.


    ¡°Oh my God, that¡¯s-what happened to your face?¡±


    ¡°I-uh-¡±


    His face is widened in concern, and I prepare the same excuse I¡¯ve used on everyone else.


    ¡°I got mugged, but it¡¯s all right. The cops chased him down and I got my wallet back.¡±


    He lets out an incredulous noise. ¡°How horrible!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it was scary.¡±


    I¡¯m trying to shake off this guy before he asks any more questions, but he keeps following me.


    ¡°I was wondering if you¡¯ve given any more thought to the offer presented to us by Lences Holdings. Have you looked at it?¡±


    Fuck.


    James follows me into security, a well-lit room with a hundred different monitors. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve looked at it. I¡¯m still not interested.¡±


    Disappointment shes over his face. ¡°But-their offer is extraordinarily generous, Marisa. Think about how much you¡¯d make! You¡¯re the biggest shareholder-¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter to me. It¡¯s not about the money. I don¡¯t trust them, and I won¡¯t leave thepany in their hands.¡±


    If only he know what he was asking for. He takes my wrist in his hand gently and I look into his pitying eyes.


    ¡°I think you¡¯ll find that you¡¯re alone in that thinking.¡±


    Unnerved by his stare, I pull my arm out of his hand and walk out the door. I hurry down the steps, ignoring the gasps thrown my way. Fucking makeup didn¡¯t help at all.


    Alone? What does that mean? Have they been convening behind my back? Fuck!


    Down the stairs, the hustle and noise of the casino grinds into my ears and I step out the front doors, heading towards my parked car. I parked right under a giant floodlight, but my hands still shake as I dig into my purse for the goddamn keys. I can¡¯t find them.


    It¡¯s a cool night, but starless. The obnoxious lights of the casino pollute the skies with colors. Not a sound. Not a whisper of anything.


    Then I notice him.


    A shadow shifting in between cars.


    It¡¯s just a customer returning to his car. Rx.


    Right.


    My heart lodges somewhere in my throat. I swallow it back down as a cold feeling creeps up my legs, stiffening them like a poison working its way through my body. He wheels around the car in front of me. I see his face. It¡¯s Frank, the one who punched the side of my face.


    He came for me.


    Frank stops in front of me like a murky apparition and smiles, his eyes wandering over the side of my face as he admires his handiwork. ¡°I believe you owe us something.¡±


    His hip bumps against mine and I tten against my car, hands trembling at my sides. ¡°I have ten in the car. I can¡¯t just withdraw that much all at once.¡±


    ¡°Not good, Ms. Toffoli.¡± Hardened eyes sh as he takes my neck in his hand and squeezes slightly. ¡°Well? Where the fuck is it?¡±


    I revolve on the spot, so frightened that I can¡¯t even remember how to open my car door. Blood pounds in my head hard, making me sway.


    Get a grip and open the door.


    I open the door and grab the man envelope stuffed with cash. He snatches it from me and looks inside.


    ¡°All right. You need toe with me.¡±


    His hand flies out and grabs my neck, which is still sore from his attack. I swallow back a scream as he yanks me. My shoes scrape on the cement as I resist him. ¡°I won¡¯t!¡±


    ¡°You stupid fucking cunt,¡± he spits in my face. ¡°Did you think we¡¯d forget about this? That we¡¯d leave you alone? All you had to do was bring the fucking money. Now I¡¯m going to have to pay a visit to your little sister.¡± His voice drops to a carnivorous whisper. ¡°She seems real sweet.¡±


    The fingers bite into my flesh, choking off a response. My vision clouds with tears, and I think about my little sister. She was my little princess. The doll I yed with. I can¡¯t utter a word. My lungs burn and I make horrible gulping sounds as he squeezes. I have to escape. My kneeunches into his stomach, and he doubles over with a harsh cry. His hand slips from my neck and I stumble from the car, dazed.


    Run!


    ¡°Fucking bitch!¡±


    My ankle twists as I lunge forward, a heavy stone block mming into my leg. I m into the concrete, and the skin on my hand burns, but I barely register it. I roll over, pain searing up my leg. Frank is above me, but there¡¯s someone behind him. A man in a dark blue suit holds a gun to Frank¡¯s head, who still hasn¡¯t realized Joe is behind him.


    ¡°Take one fucking step towards her, and I¡¯ll blow your head off.¡±


    Still on the ground, I watch wide-eyed as Frank inclines his head towards Joe, sneering. Joe sounds like apletely different person, his Brooklyn ent more pronounced.


    ¡°Joey DiFiore, is it?¡±


    ¡°Who the fuck are you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m from Jersey, asshole. Carmine Lhesi wanted me to pass on a message to Vincent¡¯s wife-¡±


    ¡°I have a message of my own to your boss.¡± His teeth grind together in a smirk. Usually his smile fills me with warmth, but this one makes me downright petrified.


    He¡¯s going to do something.


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    The sneer on Frank¡¯s face doesn¡¯t quite disappear as an explosion rips through his head. I scream at the top of my lungs as it pierces my ears. A glut of dark blood vomits from the side of his head, and he falls like a marite with broken strings. Frank smashes face-first into the pavement, bits of flesh that look like clotted blood shining on the ground.


    He killed him.


    He¡¯s dead.


    I look over the corpse to Joe standing over the body with rage thickening his features. He wipes his gun with the edge of his jacket, and then he takes a tissue out of his pocket and cleans his face.


    Like it¡¯s the most normal thing in the world.


    ¡°You killed him.¡±


    He merely looks at me. ¡°I¡¯ve done worse.¡±


    Worse?


    ¡°Stop!¡± I cry out when he takes a step closer to me, and then I crawl on my hands and knees, screaming out in pain when I put weight on my ankle. I need to run from him.


    ¡°Stay the fuck still.¡±


    ¡°What the hell is wrong with you? You killed him! There are cameras everywhere around this ce-¡±


    There¡¯s no look of horror on his face for what he¡¯s done. No shock. No self-disgust.


    He¡¯s a fucking monster.


    ¡°I have a guy in the inside who will take care of that.¡± Joe tucks the gun away and looks around for witnesses, and then he kicks the man folder. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡±


    I can just imagine the look of my face as blood drains out of it. My hands shake on the pavement. ¡°I-I can exin-¡±


    He picks it up and gives me a suspicious look. As soon as he sees the hundreds of bills, he drops it, his face a mask of shock. ¡°Marisa, why the fuck were you paying off guys in Jersey?¡±


    ¡°T-they came after me. They said my dad was involved with them, too. I had to pay them off, or die. They wanted me to sell thepany-¡±


    ¡°Why the fuck didn¡¯t you tell me?¡± He screams into the night, standing over me with balled fists, looking like he¡¯d like to kick me. ¡°Jesus FUCKING Christ!¡± He paces in front of me, and aims a violent kick to the corpse at his feet, flipping him over. He rains down with horrible blows, and then he ms his fist into my car.


    Oh my God.


    ¡°Do you realize what you¡¯ve fucking done?¡±


    ¡°No!¡±

 3-19

    He approaches me, his hand shaking-his whole body trembling. ¡°When Jack finds out, he¡¯ll want you dead.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not my fault!¡± I scream. ¡°I was just trying to stall them until I figured out what to do.¡±


    Joe¡¯s menacing face sneers at me, looking just as threatening as the man he just shot. ¡°Stay put. I need to get my car.¡±


    He turns his back on me and walks towards his car, and then a switch flips inside me.


    Full, blown panic screaming inside my head.Content provided by N?velDrama.Org.


    He will kill you. He will kill you. Run! RUN!


    Ignoring the pain in my ankle, I run as fast as I can, stumbling into cars as I head for-what? The casino? The airport? There¡¯s nothing around the immediate area. All I know is the adrenaline racing in my veins, telling me to get out of there, get out of there, get out of there, get out of there.


    Screaming tires and metal slide in front of me, and Joe¡¯s ominous face pops out. I run around the car, and hear the door opening and mming shut.


    No!


    Terrified, screaming, I sprint away from him, but he¡¯s only seconds behind. Then he grabs me. He grabs me so painfully that I forget who he is, and I fight him furiously. ¡°LET ME GO!¡±


    He smothers my screams with hisrge hand, which I bite hard. He grunts and twists my arm around my back. Excruciating pain sears up my arm like an exposed nerve, and then Joe¡¯s gruff voice is at my ear.


    ¡°I can throw you in the trunk with the body, or you cane in the passenger seat with me. If you make a scene, I will pull over and force you in there.¡±


    I nod, tears streaming down my face as he marches me to the door and opens it. I slip inside, biting my lip against the pain radiating from my ankle.


    So this is it.


    Entering the car feels like a death sentence. Joe enters the driver¡¯s seat as he opens his phone, looks at it, and crams it back in his jacket. ¡°Fuck!¡± He gives me a vicious look as he drives back to the body. The lights from the car illuminate the bright red blood and the grotesque head. He keeps the engine running as he parks the car.


    ¡°Stay.¡±


    He barks at me as if I¡¯m some dog. Then he gets out of the car and I close my eyes as he heaves the body in his arms and shoves it into the trunk. The car bounces slightly when he ms the trunk shut.


    When he joins me in the car, he doesn¡¯t say a word to me. He doesn¡¯t even look at me. I get the feeling he¡¯s purposely avoiding looking at me. He slides the phone from his jacket as we drive out of the casino and dials quickly.


    ¡°Vince, it¡¯s me. We have a big fucking problem. Yeah, I know what fucking time it is. Meet me at my house. I¡¯m bringing a package.¡±


    He tosses the phone aside.


    Another wave of hysteria works its way through my body, trembling through my lungs. I don¡¯t understand what was so terrible about what I did.


    ¡°Joe, please. I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    ¡°Will you please just shut up?¡±


    Heart aching, I fall silent. My mind churns with the blood-soaked image of the man in the trunk.


    God, I was so stupid to want Joe. He was right. I didn¡¯t know him.


    The drive to Brooklyn is filled with strained silence. I keep looking behind us at the trunk, terrified that the man he shot will somehow jump out of the trunk, still breathing. Finally, we pull up at his brownstone, and he gets out of the car.


    I contemte making a break for it for a split second, but there¡¯s no way I can outrun him with my injured ankle. Plus, I¡¯m afraid to cross him while he¡¯s in a mood like this.


    While he¡¯s in the mood to kill.


    ¡°Get out.¡±


    He unceremoniously yanks me to my feet and guides me up the steps of his apartment. Opening the door, he pushes me inside.


    It¡¯s a dark, tiny ce. All around the living room is the evidence of restlessness. Half-finished beer bottles, magazines strewn on the floor, a pile of dishes in the sink a mile high, and most disturbing-a gun sitting on the coffee table. It¡¯s a portrait of an unstable mind, and he¡¯s led me right in the center of it. I assume that he¡¯s leading me to the couch, but instead he leads me to his bedroom. It¡¯s not made. Dark sheets and darkforter.


    All my senses feel like they¡¯re on overdrive. The cold air in his apartment is like a knife dragging on my skin. Joe pushes my corbone and I fall backwards onto his bed. Our shoes touch. The air is thin. I breathe and breathe, but nothing goes down.


    I¡¯m scared shitless to have all these revtions right in front of me. There are picture frames on his dresser, turned away orying t. The man has issues. My eyes slide to his unfathomable ones, which stare at me with a mixture of suspicion and anger.


    ¡°How long have you been working with Carmine¡¯s crew?¡±


    I blink at him. ¡°Working? Joe, they kidnapped me from work. You weren¡¯t there. They brought me to a restaurant in Jersey and threatened me. They said I owed them forty grand and that I had to stop working with you if I wanted to live.¡±


    His nostrils re. ¡°And you said, ¡®okay?''¡±


    My chest tightens. ¡°What was I supposed to do? They would have killed me-I had to tell them what they wanted to hear.¡±


    ¡°Fine, but then why not fucking tell me the moment you were out of danger?¡±


    ¡°They said they¡¯d be watching me, and besides¡­you threatened me, too. I didn¡¯t know who to trust.¡±


    ¡°What about the folder of cash?¡±


    ¡°I was going to pay him. It was only ten grand. I couldn¡¯t withdraw forty grand all at once. He got upset.¡±


    Joe crosses his arms, still studying me. ¡°And they told you they wanted you to sell thepany to them?¡±


    ¡°Y-yes.¡±


    He shakes his head and rips off his jacket, hurling it to the ground. Then he unties his tie and throws that away, too. ¡°Do you realize what Jack will do once he finds out that you knew New Jersey was trying to take hold of our investment, and didn¡¯t tell anyone?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know-I didn¡¯t think-¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fucking obvious.¡±


    The barb stings, but I shove my hurt feelings aside. ¡°Joe, what¡¯s going to happen to me?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he says roughly.


    And I don¡¯t care.


    Shaking, I stand up on my feet and try to catch his gaze. ¡°You¡¯ve got to let me go. I have to get out of here.¡±


    He pushes me back down. ¡°Not a fucking chance. I¡¯m not a hero, remember?¡±


    My ankle twists under my weight, and excruciating pain sears up my leg. I clutch it and moan. For a moment there¡¯s nothing but the sounds of my shaking moans in his bedroom, and then Joe bends to my feet with a sigh and gently takes my ankle in his hands. His soft fingers move over my skin like a caress as he takes off my heel. I expect him to take it and twist it, but instead he gently bends my foot and touches my swollen ankle, examining it.


    ¡°Probably sprained it,¡± he murmurs. ¡°You¡¯ll have to keep off it for a few days.¡±


    ¡°If I¡¯m still alive, that is.¡±


    He looks up at me under dark strands of his hair and swallows hard. ¡°Marisa-¡±


    A cold feeling fills my chest. He stood over that corpse with perfect indifference, as if blowing out someone¡¯s brain was no big deal. ¡°You killed that man like it was nothing.¡±


    The hard look returns to his face. ¡°What do you care about some wiseguy in Jersey?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t. It was just¡­¡± Unnerving. Scary as fuck. Take your pick.


    Joe seems to understand from the way I flinch from his gaze. And yet, I am not filled with disgust. What he did shocked me, horrified me, but he was protecting me.


    Will he still protect me?


    The doorbell rings and the air leaves my chest so suddenly, I feel like I¡¯m in a vacuum. I grab his hand without thinking, but he yanks it out of my grip and strides to the door. Already, I see his personality hardening, his movements more purposeful and calcted. I look around the bedroom when I hear a familiar voice outside his door. Joe opens the door and a man I recognize as one of Jack¡¯sckeys steps inside. Two other men join him.


    ¡°Vince.¡±


    The older guy who sneered at me when they broke into my apartment gives Joe a quick hug and looks over his shoulder, right at me. It¡¯s an usatory stare. I clench the sheets on the bed.


    ¡°Where¡¯s the body?¡±


    ¡°In my car.¡±


    Vincent¡¯s dark eyes look around the apartment rapidly as he thinks, and then he turns to the two men. ¡°Take Joe¡¯s car to the shop. No head and no hands, do you understand me?¡±


    My stomach boils with fear and disgust. What¡¯s going to happen? They¡¯re not going to saw off his fucking head, are they?


    But Joe, who didn¡¯t flinch at killing a man, certainly has experience disposing of them as well.


    I had no idea who I was dealing with this whole time.


    It turns my stomach just thinking about the chunks of brain sitting in the parking lot, the way his eyes rolled up in his head before he hit the ground.


    The two guys nod solemnly and Joe unclips the keys to his car, pping them into their waiting hands. They¡¯re gone in a sh.


    Vince closes the door behind him carefully. ¡°Who the fuck was he? What happened?¡±


    Joe sighs and sits down at the kitchen table. I can¡¯t stand waiting in here, hearing everything and yet not being part of their conversation.


    ¡°Someone from Jersey, who said he had a message for your wife from Carmine.¡±


    Two juxtaposing forces fight over the older man¡¯s face. First, there¡¯s the pale of cold nching his face as he sits down on the chair, shortly followed by fiery heat. He lunges for the stray beer bottle sitting on the table. His fingers tighten around it, whitened, until I¡¯m sure it¡¯s going to explode in his hands.


    ¡°That piece of shit-that fucking piece of shit-What was the message?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t let him talk very long. Vince, I get the feeling he was just trying to get under your skin, that¡¯s all.¡±


    Vince explodes, sounding like a mad bull. ¡°WELL IT FUCKING WORKED!¡± He seizes the beer bottle and throws it across the room. I flinch at the sound of it shattering into a million different pieces.


    ¡°Control yourself, for fuck¡¯s sake.¡±


    But he can¡¯t.


    ¡°What the fuck did you just say to me? He threatened my wife again. He should have been killed months ago. I don¡¯t understand why our contacts in prison haven¡¯t done their fucking job!¡±


    ¡°Keep it down.¡±


    My heart feels like it¡¯s going to burst. It¡¯s escting-the whole thing is. I¡¯m hearing things I have no business hearing. I¡¯m seconds away from lunging forward and locking the door.


    ¡°Vince, we don¡¯t have time for this shit. They¡¯re trying to take Worlds Casino from us. They¡¯ve been leaning on her all this time, and probably the other shareholders to get them to sell to Lences Holdings.¡±


    ¡°Her?¡±


    ¡°Her.¡±


    Joe nods his head towards me, and Vincent¡¯s unbottled fury aims itself directly towards me. Iunch at the door, mming it shut and ramming the bolt home as he ms into the door.


    God, what¡¯s going on?


    I hear Joe behind him, trying to calm him down, but he won¡¯t have it. A vivid sh of Nathan trying to beat down my bedroom door as Jessica tried to calm him down burns into my mind.


    ¡°Just open the door!¡± she screamed. ¡°It¡¯ll be worse if you don¡¯t!¡±


    ¡°OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR, YOU BITCH!¡±


    ¡°She didn¡¯t know about your history with Carmine. Will you calm the fuck down?¡±


    The screams ring in my ears as I search his bedroom, yanking open drawer after drawer. What am I looking for? I sweep my hands under his pillow and my fingers touch something cool and metallic. I drag it out from under the pillow. It¡¯s heavy in my hands.


    Oh, God. I don¡¯t know if this is the right thing to do.


    The wood breaks as he kicks open the door.


    I point the gun at the door.


    Aim.


    The door ms open and a furious Vince bursts into the room. He backs up when he sees the gun pointed straight to his heart.


    ¡°G-get the fuck away from me.¡± My voice sounds strange. I hardly know who it belongs to.


    Joe enters the room, but I only have eyes for the man who kicked open the door, who looks at me like he¡¯d love to rip my head off. His chest pulses as he raises his hands, a sneer widening his face. It sends dizzying jolts of fear to my head.


    ¡°Drop that fucking gun, or I¡¯ll shove it up your cunt.¡±


    I raise the gun to his face, my hands trembling more than ever. He¡¯s fucking evil, whoever this guy is.


    ¡°Will you fucking let me handle this?¡±


    ¡°Handle this?¡± he turns around for a moment, ignoring me, to Joe¡¯s white face. ¡°You fucking let this broad lead you around by your dick. You were supposed to control her. Instead, she made you into the biggest fucking jerk-off in New York. If I had known fucking her would have turned you into a jamook, I would have sent someone else to deal with her.¡±


    Deal with her?


    For a moment, I look at Joe¡¯s strained face, which gives me a guilty look. ¡°What did you expect me to do? Beat it out of her?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve gone soft! Ever since your sister died-¡±


    Joe grabs thepels of Vince¡¯s jacket and ms him into the wall, his face inches from Vincent¡¯s. ¡°Don¡¯t you ever talk about my sister.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± he sneers. ¡°All I¡¯m saying is that she has your fucking gun, and she¡¯s pointing it right at you.¡±


    His hands drop from Vincent¡¯s throat and he turns around to look at me, his expression calm. Vincent takes arge step towards me, and I swing my arm towards him.


    Joe raises his hands. ¡°Drop the gun, Marisa. You don¡¯t want to do this.¡±

 3-20

    ¡°Yes, she does.¡± Vincent¡¯s eyes glitter as he stares at me.


    ¡°Will you shut up?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll drop it when he leaves. Don¡¯t!¡± My finger trembles over the trigger, the gun still aimed at his heart.


    It frightens me to see hispleteck of fear. There¡¯s something wrong with both of them. They¡¯re both deranged.


    ¡°I know something you fucking don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°W-what?¡±


    He lunges forward and I pull the trigger several times, but nothing happens. I scream as he wrestles it out of my hands and then he gives me a p that makes tears rush to my face. I fall on the bed and cover my burning face.


    ¡°The safety was on,¡± he says coolly. He ms the gun into Joe¡¯s chest, who takes it numbly. ¡°I need to tell Jack about this shit. You watch that bitch and keep her here.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a board meeting at the end of the week.¡±


    Vince gives me a contemptuous look. ¡°You¡¯re going to send me as a proxy to handle shit while we figure out what to do with you.¡±


    ¡°Vince, I don¡¯t know if the guy I did was made or not.¡±


    He shakes his head. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. It was always going toe to this. Fucking Carmine.¡±


    It¡¯s weird to see them talking to each other like nothing happened between them. They walk out of the bedroom and their voices fade as they say good-bye. The door slowly closes and the stifling silence descends over me. I¡¯m still frozen on the bed. I can¡¯t even look up with Joe reenters the room with the gun still in his hands. It makes a loud noise when he tosses it on the dresser. Then he sits down next to me.


    The weight of his body depresses the bed and I sink closer to him. It¡¯s like sitting too close to a roaring fire. It¡¯s so hot that it actually burns my skin, but it¡¯s better than backing away from its heat and feeling the cold sting my limbs.


    His head turns towards me and I feel his breath hiss over my face. ¡°You¡¯ve made a huge fucking mess. Aiming a gun at my underboss was fucking stupid.¡±


    ¡°H-he was crazy. I thought he was going to kill me.¡±


    He lets out something that might be augh. ¡°Yeah, well, he¡¯s a bit crazy when ites to protecting his wife.¡±


    A part of me wonders if that overprotective streak runs inside him as well.


    He stood up for me, didn¡¯t he? Even though he had nothing to gain from it.


    ¡°Joe, I don¡¯t know what to say. I¡¯m so sorry.¡±N?vel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.


    The energy he disyed when Vincent was in the room seems to have deted. ¡°You made me look really bad in front of him.¡±


    I feel like disappearing under his look of cold disapproval. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to do that to you.¡±


    ¡°From now on, you¡¯ll do what I say, when I say it.¡±


    ¡°But, Joe-¡±


    I get one look of his darkened face before his palm spreads on my chest and shoves me backwards. My back hits his bed and Joe¡¯s stomach brushes over mine as he climbs over me. I feel lightheaded as Iy under him, remembering how amazing it felt when our clothes were shed and he was thrusting over me. The look he gives me makes me want to shrink into the covers.


    ¡°I¡¯m done being the nice guy, so shut up and listen. You fucked up under my watch. I risked my neck to save your ass, so that means you¡¯re mine.¡±


    My skin burns when his hand wraps around my wrist, and all I want is for him to be sweet, but the way he says ¡®you¡¯re mine¡¯ sends a hot trail down my body from my breasts to my core. The other ys devil¡¯s advocate on my neck. I gasp for air when he touches my chest, tracing my corbone. The hands stroking me killed a man. He probably has killed many. How can they be so gentle with me?


    ¡°I¡¯m really sorry.¡± My fingers tentatively reach out for his face, still frozen in stony disapproval, and sweep under his jaw. He doesn¡¯t throw off my hand, which I take as a good sign. The stubble scratches my palm as I wrap my hand around his neck, my fingers brushing over the hair at the back of his neck. ¡°How can I make it up to you?¡±


    When he speaks, I feel his voice through my hand.


    ¡°It¡¯ll take a lot of work on your end.¡±


    ¡°Joe, I¡¯m serious. I don¡¯t want you to hate me, too.¡±


    ¡°Why do you care?¡±


    My throat is thick. A sharp pain suddenly pounds through my skull. ¡°You¡¯re the only person in my life who¡¯s looking out for me.¡±


    The muscles in his face loosen up. ¡°I¡¯m not going to be your hero, Marisa. If they decide that you¡¯re dead, that¡¯s what¡¯s going to happen. I can¡¯t stop it.¡±


    When I look at him, I still believe that he¡¯ll do anything in his power to help me. Maybe that¡¯s delusional.


    ¡°I know that you care about me on some level.¡±


    His hand tightens over my wrist. ¡°Shut up.¡± He growls the insult right before his biting lips and teeth fall over my mouth. His body sinks into mine and I relish at the contact. The movements of his hands on my skin are rough. He pins me on his bed, his weight pressing into me. The somber expression he wears is reced by a mad frenzy. He grabs my jaw and squeezes hard as he pulls back, looking enraged for some reason thatpletely escapes me.


    ¡°When I found out about my sister¡¯s death, the first thing I wanted to do was torture and kill the prick who did it, but he was in jail. Unreachable. So for a long time, I did that for Jack, until every human feeling was purged from my body. I wanted to do it. It was an outlet for my rage, even though I got a bit carried away at times and went too far. Then I found out he had a brother and put him in the hospital. I didn¡¯t kill him, but I wanted to. Even though he had nothing to do with what happened to my sister. That¡¯s the kind of man I am.¡±


    Joe¡¯s horrifying confession steals the breath from my voice. He gives me a ck look, unrecognizable from the charming, sensitive man I¡¯ve spent so much time with.


    What if it was an act? It was all an act to deceive me, so that he could fuck me and get close to me.


    I¡¯ve no time to process this horrifying theory, because Joe relinquishes my jaw and rummages in the nightstand for something. A metallic sound makes my blood chill.


    ¡°No, don¡¯t!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t trust you.¡±


    He takes one of my wrists and ps the handcuffs on until they cut into my skin. He attaches the other end to his headboard. I yank against it, only seeding in hurting myself.


    Joe stretches his length down his bed and props his head on his hand, looking at me wolfishly. ¡°I could get used to seeing you tied up like this.¡±


    The fallen photos, the gun sitting on the coffee table, the shattered ss sitting in his living room, and the wolfish grin he gives me-they¡¯re all pieces from a shattered mind. ¡°You¡¯re really, really sick.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I am. I also want you really fucking bad right now.¡±


    I can tell by looking at the hard bulge in his pants. I get a strange thrill out of it, and then I wonder if I¡¯m sick, too. He slides up against me and I shiver from his closeness. Light fingers trace my corbone and dip down to my blouse.


    Snap.


    Snap.


    Snap.


    He destroys button after button, his fingers teasing my skin as he works down. It¡¯s hell. I don¡¯t want to feel anything but revulsion for him, but he brings me a fucking intense emotional high. It¡¯s like a switch flipping in my brain, and I forget everything about him that¡¯s supposed to scare me. If that¡¯s evolution, then I¡¯m headed for extinction.


    He leans over my body and his lips fall on mine, kissing me under my head and down my neck, to the swell of my breasts. His tongue swirls around my flesh and the room echoes with my harsh gasps. Suddenly, he unsps my bra and pushes the strap off my unhooked arm, along with my blouse. The high reaches a crescendo as he grabs my breasts. His teeth bite down hard, and it¡¯s painful, but the red mark swelling on them reminds me that I¡¯m his, and my pussy builds with heat when I realize what that means.


    Electricity shoots from his lips into my body as he kisses a trail down my stomach, biting hard along the way, until he stops at my cks. He suddenly cups my pussy, feeling the heat under his hands. He looks up, grinning at my flushed face.


    ¡°You just can¡¯t resist me, can you?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    He nts a kiss on my stomach as he unzips my pants and tugs. They catch on my thighs, the slippery fabric offering slight resistance as he pulls them down my legs. It feels like his hands are caressing me. My panties swiftly follow suit; a thrill beating in my chest as they slide off my ankles and fall off. He spreads my legs apart, the air stinging the ce between my legs. He nts a kiss on my upper thigh, and I tremble. It¡¯s much too close.


    Then he slides his thumb over my incredibly wet clit, and he lets out another chuckle.


    ¡°I guess you like being tied up.¡±


    ¡°No, I just like you.¡±


    A smirk spreads on his face. ¡°I like you, too. Especially this part of you.¡±


    His head disappears between my legs and my heart is like a ping-pong ball in my chest. Oh, fuck. I can feel his hot breath billowing over my pussy, and I contract hard. What¡¯s he doing?


    And then I feel it. It¡¯s the most incredible sensation I¡¯ve ever experienced. His hard wet tongue reaches all the way back and licks me.


    ¡°Oh, Joe!¡±


    I scream out his name, my reaction visceral. I can¡¯t control it any more than I can control him. His tongue massages my clit as one hand keeps my thighs apart, the other spreads over my stomach. Holy shit. Holy shit. His hot mouth closes over my clit and he sucks, and I arch my back again.


    ¡°No, don¡¯t! Please!¡±


    It¡¯s too much. It¡¯s torture. His tongue actually slides inside me, burying deep, sliding out to flick my clit hard. Then he closes his mouth over me and sucks hard. My legs tighten around his head and I jerk against my restraint. Part of me wants him to never stop, the other, louder part wants him to just fuck me already. I feel my juices running down my thighs, into his mouth. The sucking, wet noises drive me mad.


    ¡°Joe, I need you. Oh, God. I need you.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± I feel his breath on me. His lips transfer to my inner thigh, and he sucks hard until there¡¯s a bright mark.


    ¡°Please!¡±


    Begging seems to have a profound effect on him. He sits up and tears off his shirt, removing his pants and briefs just as quickly, and then my legs wrap around his waist. I feel the cleft of his cock, pressing between my legs. Intense ecstasy fills my lungs with a sigh as he slides in, his body covering mine. Joe¡¯s face descends over mine, taut with the effort of restraining himself. I take his wet lips in mine, tasting myself as his tongue forces through my lips. He doesn¡¯t let me go, even when I moan.


    The force of him rutting me deep knocks the breath out of my lungs. It steals it away and lifts me high. His cock pulses, ramming me so hard that my head hits the headboard. He pulls my shoulders down and holds me still, fucking me as grunts of pleasure explode from his mouth. My legs lift up to his shoulders and I feel him stabbing my insides. I¡¯ve never given myself sopletely to a man-never been able to hand it over like this. Never wanted to, either. He keeps shattering everything I think I know about myself. I thought I knew enough, but I didn¡¯t know shit. I didn¡¯t know how amazing he¡¯d feel. Every movement he makes is calcted to emphasize our senses. The sound of his voice, ragged with desire for me, makes me want toe.


    ¡°You feel so fucking amazing.¡±


    My free arm wraps around his waist, seizing his bare ass and digging my nails into his muscles. I clench myself hard as he buries himself, unable to fight the roaring pressure inside me. I fall apart in his arms,ing around him, yanking on the sharp handcuff.


    Joe¡¯s lips fasten on mine, swallowing my moans as he pushes down on my chest, my legs wrapping around him again. His face transforms into something much more vulnerable. He looks younger. The stoic mask finally slips away and he gives himself to me, breaking down in a series of shuddering gasps as he ms into me. His legs shake and I feel warmth spreading inside me. Joe bites my ear and sighs, his body copsing over mine.


    I sweep the strands of hair away from his face and kiss his wet forehead. His head lies on my shoulder, his cock still buried inside me as it jerks with the aftershocks of his orgasm. Then he pushes himself away from me, his body stretching out almost as if it was on disy for me. His head rests on the pillow next to me, and he gives me a look I¡¯ve never seen before.


    It almost makes me feel cherished.


    He reaches out and touches my face, the side that¡¯s still bruised and hurting. Joe opens his mouth as though he wants to say something, but he can¡¯t quite do it. He slips out of bed and I turn around, the happiness emptying out of me. The orgasm took away all excitement and left me with crushing reality. Joe flips a switch without saying a word and I¡¯m bathed in darkness. Then I feel safe. A tear burns down my cheek, and then another. I bite my lip to keep from whimpering, but my chest shakes and the slightest sound escapes through my lips.


    He slides back into bed, moving too close to me. A heavy arm wraps around my waist and pulls me into his chest. Then his lips brush against my neck. It¡¯s almost like he¡¯s mouthing something against my skin, but the hand brushing my skin feels like an apology.

 3-21

    My arm hurts like hell.


    I shift it in another position, but metal digs into my wrist and I wince. My eyes, crusted with tears, open in the early darkness to see my wrist still attached to the handcuffs. I twist around in the bed, but Joe isn¡¯t there. I strain my ears, and I can¡¯t hear him in the apartment.


    Maybe I should try to get the hell out of here.


    Fire zes in my chest, filling me with energy as I envision myself sprinting out of his apartment, straight to the police. Even Joe admitted that he wouldn¡¯t be able to help me, even if he wanted to.


    How far would I get, really?


    I sink back into the bed as pressure builds behind my eyes again. It¡¯s everywhere, sitting on my chest and on both sides of my skull, crushing me.


    My father.


    He fucking did this to me. I hate them all: Jack, Vincent, Jamie, and that bastard who hit me, but I feel a mixture of loathing and heart-wrenching betrayal for my dad. He could have named my brother as the owner of thepany, and he¡¯d be in this mess. He would¡¯ve probably handled it better. I was chosen because I was disposable. Easily reced. Dad did not give a fuck about me.


    I yank on the chain again, gritting my teeth when it bites into my skin. It gouges a deep, red mark into my skin, and I revel in the pain of it. It¡¯s so much better than crying, and I hate myself more than anything for allowing this to happen.


    The only glimmer of happiness in my life is also my jailer. How fucked up is that?


    My wrist twists, and I grit my teeth hard as it stabs through my skin. I¡¯ve hardly made any progress. In the kitchen, I heard the scuff of feet and I freeze, holding in my breath as if he can hear that, too.


    Joe walks into the doorway, wearing nothing but a pair of ck briefs.


    Hot.


    I want to kiss that line of dark hair leading from his t abdomen to the tempting bulge hidden under a thinyer of cotton. The smooth look of unconcern is back on his face, but he walks around the bed, a small smirk ying on his lips.


    ¡°Looks like you¡¯re still tied up.¡± Heughs at his little joke.


    ¡°Oh, ha-ha. Can you uncuff me, please? I need to pee. And I need a shower.¡±


    He sits down next to me and my heartbeat starts to pick up. I have a very nice view of him. He¡¯s all lean muscle, and ruggedly handsome, and the bastard knows it.


    ¡°Hm.¡± A broad hand smoothes over my stomach, over my breasts to squeeze them slightly. It freezes. ¡°You fucked up your wrist.¡±


    Joe sighs angrily as he retrieves the key from the nightstand on the other side. He quickly unlocks it and I hiss in pain as it unsticks from my raw flesh. He touches it gently, soothing fingers moving over the raw, circr lines.


    ¡°Thanks.¡±


    I sit up next to him and get up without another word as he lets his hand fall. He follows me out the door and right into the bathroom. I turn around on him incredulously.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to watch me pee?¡±N?vel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.


    His beautifully carved shoulders shrug. ¡°I¡¯m not taking any chances with you.¡±


    ¡°This is fucking ridiculous. What do you think I¡¯ll do?¡±


    Dark eyes watch me. ¡°You did pull my own gun on me. I don¡¯t trust you. Not by a long shot.¡±


    Anger bubbles in my chest as I watch him fold his arms over his chest. I march to the toilet and lift up the lid. Joe tries to retreat a respectful distance, but no matter how you cut it, it¡¯s awkward as fuck when someone¡¯s looking at you. I try to flush as I¡¯m peeing so that he can¡¯t hear anything.


    When I¡¯m done, he¡¯s still there, looking at me out of the corner of my eye. I slide back the shower door and twist the knobs, waiting until heat pours from the nozzle until I step back inside.


    My head lifts up as the hot spray singes my body, easing the aches in my muscles and doubling the throbbing ache in my ankle. I grab the tall Dove liquid shampoo andther my hands with it.


    The shower door scrapes open and I almost slip when I see apletely naked Joe standing there. He pushes his way inside.


    I find my voice somehow. ¡°What¡¯re you doing?¡±


    He joins me under the spray, the water darkening his hair and trailing down his rippling muscles in little rivulets. The temperature of the shower seems to skyrocket. What was a pleasantly warm temperature is now a raging furnace.


    Joe pins me against the ss wall and my back hits it with a resolute thud. He takes my head in his hands, and a devilish grin spreads over his face.


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t resist.¡±


    I¡¯m d that the shower¡¯s heat gives me an excuse for my face to be red. The smile on his face makes me temporarily speechless. My breasts tten against his chest and his head turns, his lips searching for me. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Usually when a girl is naked in my shower, I¡¯m with her.¡±


    ¡°I bet she isn¡¯t handcuffed to the bed, either.¡±


    Humor glints in his eyes. ¡°Sometimes.¡±


    But he gives me no time to respond. With the gentle touch of his finger under my chin, my head turns closer to his, until soft lips kiss mine so tenderly that I feel a different sort of desire stir inside me.


    He pulls away and my heart is still banging against his chest. He picks up the soap, oblivious to the feelings he stirred inside me, and runs his hands down my body as he washes me. I take the razor sitting on the wall.


    ¡°Can I use this?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not going to slit my throat, are you?¡±


    I shake my head and bend over to shave, my ankle protesting slightly.


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be standing on that.¡±


    ¡°I shouldn¡¯t do a lot of things.¡±


    He wraps his arms around my waist and blood rushes to my head, when I feel his cock hardening against my leg.


    ¡°I can¡¯t keep my hands off you.¡±


    A sharp pain shoots up my leg and my face crumples into a whimper. Joe gives me a concerned look and shuts off the water. ¡°You need to stay off that leg.¡±


    He brushes my back as I lean on my other leg. ¡°You¡¯re very bossy.¡±


    ¡°I am the boss of you, remember?¡±


    I turn to his face with a smile, but there¡¯s noughter on his face. ¡°Yeah. Whatever.¡±


    I don¡¯t feel like a fight, anyway. At least, that¡¯s what I tell myself. This was what I wanted, right? For someone to swoop in and take control?


    Be careful what you fucking wish for.


    After we¡¯re toweled and dried, Joe hands me a pair of his ck exercise pants that I have to roll up three or four times, and a Rolling Stones t-shirt that drowns me. He tries not tough at me.


    ¡°We can get some of your clothester.¡±


    He pulls on a pair of jeans and a ck t-shirt, looking far better than I do at the moment. Joe takes my arm and steers me into the living room, which looks slightly better than yesterday. It¡¯s as if he spent the morning cleaning. The broken ss is swept up and the bottles of beer are gone. A wet streak on the coffee table hints that it was recently wiped. A small smile tugs at my face when I sit down. He joins me on the couch and I take in the room for a moment and reel in the strangeness of it all.


    I gingerly take a photo from the end table and study it, my mouth dropping.


    The smile of the man in the photograph is so ostentatious that I have to do a double take to realize that it belongs to Joe. He looks a few years younger; his arm wrapped around what must be his sister-a pretty, vivacious girl with the same eyes. He wears a ridiculous grin, the dimples in his cheeks carved in deeply. He¡¯s fit to burst. What a remarkable change from the sullen man sitting next to me, watching me study the photo. Joe does smile, of course, but it¡¯s never really authentic. He gets amused, heughs-but there¡¯s no joy in his smile. The man in the photo looks like he¡¯s in love with his life.


    ¡°You look so happy.¡±


    He takes the photo from my hands, frowning at it. ¡°I¡¯m not that guy anymore.¡±


    ¡°Is that why you have all the pictures facing the other way? Or is it because you can¡¯t bear to look at her?¡±


    Joe gives me a sharp look, and for a moment I¡¯m afraid I¡¯ve crossed some line. I inch closer to him on the couch as he returns his gaze to the photo, his eyes zed over.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the one who told me that it doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯ll neverugh again.¡±


    He ms the picture frame on the coffee table and I jump into the couch, trembling. ¡°Just because I get to babysit you for a few days doesn¡¯t mean you get to ask questions about my life.¡±


    I don¡¯t know why I¡¯m prying into his life. I guess I just want to help him. He¡¯s running away from dealing with his feelings. It¡¯s so obvious if you look around at the ce.


    But it¡¯s really not the time.


    I avert my eyes from the frightening heat in his gaze. ¡°S-sorry.¡±


    Wepse into silence for a while. Joe watches the news and Comedy Central and flicks from channel to channel restlessly. I fidget in the couch, wrestling with questions I want to ask him, until I can¡¯t take the silence anymore.


    ¡°What¡¯s going to happen to me? Am I going to die?¡±


    Joe looks annoyed until he hears the tremble in my voice. Then he sets the remote down and slides next to me, the heat of his body instantly calming me. He pulls me into his chest and cradles my head in the crook of his neck.


    ¡°That¡¯s not going to happen, Marisa.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t know that.¡±


    ¡°Trust me.¡±


    Trust him? How am I supposed to trust him? He doesn¡¯t even trust me. Hell, I don¡¯t trust myself. I have these weird, inappropriate feelings for a man who is supposed to keep me prisoner here. Maybe he¡¯s even supposed to hurt me. I take his hand in mine and I feel a rush of revulsion for the violence I saw himmit, but he¡¯s never really directed that violence towards me. At times, Joe can be firm, but he¡¯s never hurt me. That¡¯s why I believe him.


    I pull away from him and wrap my arms around my knees. ¡°I¡¯m all confused. I can barely wrap my head around what¡¯s happening, and now¡­¡±


    His body turns towards me. ¡°And now¡­what?¡±


    Can he really not see the conflict I¡¯m struggling with? ¡°I have all these fucked up feelings for you.¡±


    He shakes his head. ¡°Well you picked a great time to talk about them.¡±


    ¡°When else am I supposed to? Between getting the shit beaten out of me and getting handcuffed to your bed, I haven¡¯t had much time.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what to say.¡±


    Say you feel the same way.


    But he shifts and squirms on the couch, looking ufortable at the very idea of talking about feelings. ¡°I feel sorry for you if you think I¡¯m the kind of guy that you want. You¡¯ve seen what I¡¯m capable of.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I have,¡± I swallow hard. ¡°It frightens me, but not as much¡­not as much as if you weren¡¯t in my life.¡±


    He opens and closes his mouth, looking lost. What he does frightens me. Not him. Never him.


    ¡°Look, you can repeat that badass rhetoric that you throw around all the time, but I know you care about me.¡± At least, I fucking hope he does. ¡°I don¡¯t know why it¡¯s so hard for you to admit it.¡±


    He looks down at his hands. ¡°I don¡¯t want to care about anyone. I don¡¯t want to feel anything, that was the whole point of ¡®no strings.''¡±


    ¡°How was that going for you so far?¡± I try to keep the edge out of my voice.


    Deep brown eyes ze over with pain as he rubs his palms together, looking increasingly ufortable. ¡°Not well,¡± he admits.


    So it¡¯s about his sister. He still hasn¡¯t dealt with her passing. It¡¯s a defense mechanism, the oldest one in the book. Don¡¯t get close to anyone, and you can¡¯t get hurt. Unluckily for me, dying seems to be a very likely prospect in the next few days. It¡¯s strange how little I worry about it. Maybe it¡¯s because he¡¯s here.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯m capable of no strings. I don¡¯t think you are, either.¡± My chest squeezes painfully when he looks at me with slightly wide eyes. ¡°I want to be with you. I don¡¯t want to just be yourare.¡±


    His hand finds mine on the couch and squeezes, a pain issuing from his throat as he sighs. ¡°Marisa¡­¡± He looks like he¡¯s on the verge of rejecting me, of saying no. The delicate fortress I¡¯ve built around myself to keep the pain outside is about to copse. ¡°I don¡¯t want to hurt you, but I just don¡¯t feel the same way.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    Shit. I was wrong. I was so wrong and said all of that embarrassing shit.


    He hurt me anyway. My insides crumble and the world falls away. I thought, at least, that I had him, but it turned out that I had nothing. Joe gives me another pitying look as he gets off the couch and walks away, presumably to leave me alone out of respect for my feelings. To leave me alone to cry.


    I don¡¯t feel like crying. I feel empty. That¡¯s it. There¡¯s no hope for me, now. The sting of unrequited feelings hurts less than the pain of a bullet, and the walls feel frighteningly close around me. No escape. No security.

 3-22

    JOE


    I¡¯ve read about this thing that happens to kidnapped victims. It¡¯s called ¡°Stockholm Syndrome.¡±  It¡¯s a phenomenon where victims start to express feelings of sympathy and empathy for their captors. Is there such a thing for something happening in the reverse?


    I feel sorry for her.


    It was bad enough seeing her face all fucked up at her apartment. My heart broke when she cried, her small hands cradling her mangled head. I couldn¡¯t stand to watch her get so upset, so I left. Now that I know who did it, my mind has been obsessed-consumed with thoughts of violent reprisal. I already killed one of the pricks, but the rest will have to go.


    I walk into the living room to see Marisa sitting on the couch, watching the Disney channel. Christ, I didn¡¯t even know that I have it. The moment she sees me, she swallows hard and shuts the TV off. She balls her fists at her sides and cringes when I walk closer.


    ¡°Sorry.¡±


    The tense tone she uses and her darting eyes fill me with searing guilt. She¡¯s back to being afraid of me.


    ¡°You can watch TV if you want.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± she says tersely, but makes no move to turn it back on.


    I frown. I didn¡¯t like rejecting her. Hell, I felt like an asshole when her face fell apart. Of course, I lied out of my ass. The truth is that just hanging around her makes me happier than I¡¯ve been in months. If things weren¡¯t such a fucking mess and if I¡¯d met her under different circumstances, it would be a different story. I just don¡¯t think it¡¯s wise to have her as anything more than aare. Jack wouldn¡¯t like it, and when Jack doesn¡¯t like you, he gets rid of you.


    That¡¯s the reality.


    It was a nice game to y with her, but it has got to end. I have to end it.


    If only the suffocating feeling in my chest would disappear.


    I sit down next to her and absorb her silence, the way her chest rises and falls, the careful manner in which she ces her hands on her thighs. Her face looks a lot better. Almost healed, really, except for a faint yellow shadow on the side of her head.


    ¡°How are you feeling?¡±


    Oh, I¡¯m sure she¡¯s fucking feeling great after you shot her down. Stupid question.


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    ¡°Listen,¡± I begin in a low voice, ¡°about yesterday-¡±


    Marisa suddenly grabs my bicep and a rush of dizziness makes me forget the rest of my sentence when she climbs onto myp like it¡¯s the most normal thing in the world. I have to appreciate the gall of this woman. Did I say she could do that?


    But then she straddles my waist and my mouth is suddenly dry. Blonde hair falls around my hands as I touch her small face, which is wretched with sadness. Her hair tickles my face as she leans into me, and her lips fall on mine, my mouth open in surprise.


    What is she doing? I told her yesterday-


    Dude, shut up.


    My heart pounds a bit faster and I wrap my arms around her back, ying with the seam of her t-shirt. I pull her closer to me, feeling lost in the sensation of her tongue ying with my lips. Both of us are fucked in the head. She¡¯s in over her head, and I¡¯vepletely lost mine. I realize that.


    No strings!


    It¡¯s a feeble shout in the wind, swallowed up almost immediately when she sits up and tears her own shirt off her body. Her naked body. Two perfect tits stare at my face and I feel my jeans tighten around my cock. My hand slides up her silky skin and grabs her tits. She leans forward, pressing herself against my palm. Her breath tickles my ear.


    ¡°You know, this isn¡¯t so bad. No work. Just rxing with you.¡±


    My fingers dig into her sides. She has no idea what the fuck she¡¯s saying, has no idea of the danger she¡¯s in. I¡¯m such a fucking asshole. If I cared about this girl at all, I would give her the two grand I have stashed here and tell her to run. Get out of New York.


    She¡¯s rxed, but I spend the days wanting to w out of my skin. If they want her dead, they¡¯ll expect me to do it-and I can¡¯t! I can¡¯t do this hit for them. Vince was right, I have gone soft.


    Fuck!


    Her hands freeze on my chest. ¡°Are you okay? You look a little tense.¡±


    No, sweetheart. I definitely am not okay by any stretch of the imagination.


    ¡°I¡¯m all right.¡± Then I shake my head, realizing how that sounds. ¡°I¡¯m more than all right. You are beautiful.¡±


    I bury my face in her chest, trying to get lost in the feeling of her tits in my hands. They¡¯re warm and soft, and for some reason they make my cock hard enough to gouge holes through my jeans.Content provided by N?velDrama.Org.


    At the back of my mind, I¡¯m worried about the guy I killed. Sooner orter, they¡¯re going toe after me. They probably already suspect what happened. I don¡¯t know if he was made or not, but if he was that will have serious repercussions for me. Jack might be working out a deal with them right now, and I would have no idea. I won¡¯t know until it happens-you never know. One minute, you¡¯re going out to eat with friends, and the next your head is wrapped by a stic bag, and they sink two bullets in your head.


    I wouldn¡¯t see iting.


    Fuck the half naked girl in your hands.


    I¡¯m about to rip off her pants, when a shing screen fills my body with dread. The small cell-phone to the right of my head ys a merry tone. I look at it. Jack.


    ¡°Fuck! I¡¯m sorry, Marisa. I have to take this.¡±


    She slides off myp and I watch her pick up her t-shirt, feeling deep regret inside my throat.


    I have to answer it.


    ¡°Yeah?¡± I clear my throat.


    ¡°Joe! How are you holding up there?¡±


    I still have a huge boner. I tug my jeans painfully, and will it to go down. ¡°Can¡¯tin. What¡¯s going on?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to be sending someone down to watch the girl. I¡¯ve organized a sit-down with Carmine¡¯s underboss. I want you toe with us.¡±


    The breath catches in my chest as the air suddenly turns ice-cold. The phone almost slips from my hand.


    ¡°That sounds like a trap.¡±


    ¡°Are you worried about that guy? Vince and I have no love for the Lhesi outfit, you know that.¡±


    ¡°All the same, I wasn¡¯t born yesterday.¡±


    This is always how it is. How many times have I watched him trick guys into meeting with him?


    If he wants me, he¡¯ll get me. There¡¯s no hiding from Gio Vittorio.


    ¡°Joe, stop being an idiot. We¡¯re meeting them on our turf, and I need you there to help me calm Vincent. You know how he is.¡±


    Briefly, an image of Vince hurling a beer bottle in my living room shes through my mind. ¡°Yeah, I do.¡±


    ¡°Meet me at the deli.¡±


    * * *


    It¡¯s a breezy night and the sand under my feet reminds me of running on the beach with Marisa on Coney Ind. My heart flutters at the memory, filling me with painful regret. My hand keeps patting my gun as I walk down with the others.


    Nicky walks behind me, his little sour face twisted into a smile I¡¯ve never been able to trust. We¡¯re meeting Carmine¡¯s crew under Brooklyn Bridge. Vincent and the others walk ahead of me, talking. The diseased waterps gently on the ruined shore. I step aside and stop walking.


    I can¡¯t fucking take this anymore.


    My limbs shake as Nicky stops beside me with raised eyebrows.


    ¡°Walk ahead of me.¡±


    He somehow takes it as an insult. He always takes everything badly. ¡°What the fuck is your problem?¡±


    Vince twists his head around and gives me a brilliant smile. ¡°He thinks he¡¯s here to get clipped. Not today, Joey.¡± Then heughs as if he said something hrious and continues down.


    Not fucking funny.


    ¡°This is no ce for a sit-down. It¡¯s more of a ce to lure someone so that they can get fucking killed.¡±


    To my surprise, Nicky¡¯s face cracks with a smile. ¡°Oh, so you care about dying now? I told you all you needed was to getid.¡± He ps my arm affectionately, and I absorb the blow stiffly.


    The short man walks ahead of me and I allow myself to exhale a little. It¡¯s hard. My lungs feel like boulders. I walk down the shore and turn around to see Jack, Vince, and Nicky surrounding a man I recognize as Jamie Ti. A man with the reputation of a snake. He wears a neat pinstripe suit, his gray hair delicately swept back. His long face stretches into a taut leer when he sees me.


    ¡°Ah, Mr. DiFiore. You wouldn¡¯t happen to know where my associate is, would you?¡±


    My face is a mask of cool when I walk between Jack and Vince, shrugging my shoulders. ¡°Who?¡±


    His face tightens. ¡°Frank Costa. My enforcer. He went to Worlds Casino to collect a payment, and never came back.¡±


    I bristle under the heat of his gaze. This guy has the fucking balls to get angry at me, when that moron shouldn¡¯t have been there in the first ce. Beside me, I feel Vince¡¯s heat. He was never good at controlling his anger, and it¡¯s close to boiling over. I¡¯m not surprised to see a look of deep loathing on his face.


    ¡°You¡¯ll never see him again. I had my associates chop him up.¡±


    Jamie hisses through his teeth, an inhuman sound that reminds me of a serpent. ¡°Well, that¡¯s unfortunate because he was a made man. Carmine will want justice, of course.¡±


    His eyes narrow over mine, and I stare right back.


    Go ahead, asshole. Try it.


    ¡°Listen, asshole. The less you mention Carmine, the better this will go.¡±


    He merely looks at Jack, adopting an oily tone as he watches both of them. ¡°We know all about the hit you ordered on Carmine. It¡¯s not going to happen. He has a lot of allies in the joint and people fear him after what he did to the Rizzos. No one¡¯s going to fuck with him.¡±


    The man beside me steps forward violently, but I grab one of his arms and yank him back. Nicky shoves Vince¡¯s chest and forces him backwards, but his face is red with rage. ¡°I don¡¯t see Carmine anywhere. What the fuck is stopping anyone from gunning you down right here, right now?¡±


    Jack continues in a louder voice. ¡°Let me make this clear. The purpose of this sit-down was to give you a warning. Frank¡¯s death will be the first of many, unless you back off. I have allowed you to exist because I was hoping for better leadership than Tony Rizzo or Carmine Lhesi, and I¡¯m not yet convinced by some of the other outfits in Jersey, but if this disrespectful behavior continues, we will hunt you down.¡±


    He steps back and raises his hands.


    ¡°Jack, we meant no disrespect, but we had an arrangement with Mr. Toffoli before he passed, and the girl has missed several payments. It¡¯s uneptable.¡±


    I wondered when her name would crop up. Jamie¡¯s face is filled with carefully restrained rage.


    ¡°You¡¯ll take the ten grand we got from the girl, and that¡¯s it.¡±


    The smirk is back on his face. ¡°All I can do is deliver the message.¡±


    The meeting over, I breathe a sigh of relief as they turn around and we walk back to our cars. I got a slimy feeling from that Jamie Ti. I doubt he¡¯ll hold up his end of the bargain, particrly where I¡¯m concerned.


    ¡°That fucking bitch caused a lot of problems for us,¡± Vince snarls at me as if it¡¯s my fault.


    The insult worms its way under my skin. I know that his rage isn¡¯t directed towards me, but I still feeltled. She doesn¡¯t deserve this bullshit.


    ¡°It¡¯s not her fault that her old man made a bunch of bad decisions.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s just as much to me. If we would have known this earlier-¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I snap. ¡°What would have been different?¡±


    His head turns around at my tone and I get up in his face, heart pounding in my chest. The guys around us exim excitedly.


    For a moment, he looks like he wants to knee me in the balls, but the tense moment breaks and he lets out a littleugh. He backs up, leaning against his arms on the roof of his car as he gives me that sarcastic grin that I can¡¯t fucking stand.


    ¡°Jesus Christ. You¡¯re falling for this girl, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    A sudden sensation runs through me like missing a stair on a staircase. ¡°I¡¯m not falling for her, but she¡¯s myare, so shut the fuck up.¡±


    Nicky and the othersugh their asses off, the sound making the hair on my arms singe. Vince¡¯s long legs shift as he sits up slightly, crossing his arms, a re forming over his face.


    My raised voice attracts Jack¡¯s attention, who looks at us curiously. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±


    Vince opens his stupid fucking mouth before I can. ¡°Joey here is in love with that Toffoli broad.¡±


    Jack raises his eyebrows at me and I roll my eyes, pretending to be annoyed rather than filled with violent rage. Laughter shakes from Vince¡¯s broad chest, his dark hair falling into his eyes. ¡°Look at how angry he is,¡± he tells Jack.


    That¡¯s it.


    Red rage shes over my vision. Hisughing, sneering face seems to echo around me, and suddenly my hands are wrapped around his throat and I¡¯m mming his head into his car hood. He shoves me off his chest, screaming, and my fist smashes against the side of his face and his jaw whips to the side. At least three guys m into my chest, pulling me back before I can get another shot at him. Vince steps back, momentarily dazed. He touches his face and looks shocked to see blood shining on his fingers.


    Jack shoves my chest. ¡°Who the fuck do you think you are? What¡¯s wrong with you?¡±


    I lunge for Vince again, who looks at me as if he¡¯s never seen me before. I can¡¯t exin the violent tornado of emotions inside my chest.


    ¡°I¡¯m fucking sick of being disrespected by you!¡±


    He sneers at that, wiping the line of blood at the edge of his mouth. ¡°Respect is for those who deserve it, not for those who demand it.¡±


    ¡°Fuck you!¡±


    Nicky hisses in my ear. ¡°Watch your fucking mouth!¡±


    ¡°All this for that fucking whore?¡±


    Vince was always an asshole, but he¡¯s never been nasty to me. Everyone¡¯s shouts rise to the stars as whore falls from his lips. It¡¯s not just an insult against her, it¡¯s one against me. I don¡¯t fuck whores. Never have, never will.


    Piece of shit.


    The thin band of restraint snaps inside me. I wrench my arms out of Nicky¡¯s grasp and tackle Vince. His back ms into the concrete and I m my fists into his face, crunching against bone and muscle. He snarls at me and his headunches forward. He strikes the bridge of my nose, which sears with pain. I grab it and he shoves me over. A ruthless kick to my side sends a deep pain through my body, the sharpness of his shoe jutting into my skin.


    ¡°Stop it! Vince-enough!¡±


    Only the boss¡¯ voice reins him in. His feet scrape the pavement as he moves away from my body.


    ¡°Fucking asshole.¡±


    No oneughs when I drag myself to my feet, ring at Vince with a corrosive hatred so strong I can almost smell it. Jack¡¯s whitened face blocks Vincent¡¯s from mine. He sps my shoulder and shakes it slightly. ¡°Joey, what the hell¡¯s gotten into you? The girl is none of your concern-¡±


    ¡°-I know, Goddamn it.¡±


    I just snapped at the boss. Fuck¡¯s sake, do I want a death wish?


    Jack¡¯s fingers painfully grip the back of my neck and shove me towards my car. ¡°Go home and sleep this off.¡±


    Vince¡¯s high voice stabs the back of my head. ¡°You better watch your fucking back!¡±


    What the fuck have I just done?

 3-23

    Once I¡¯ve sent Ben home, I find Marisa on my bed, sitting on theforter. She hugs her knees and turns her head slowly to look at me standing in the doorway.


    ¡°Well, you look like shit. What happened?¡±


    ¡°Got into a fight, that¡¯s all.¡±


    I can¡¯t see her face in the darkness, but I imagine a smirk spreading over her pointed face when I hear her snort.


    My insides crawl. I just need to get out of this ce, to get what Vince said out of my mind. ¡°Let¡¯s go out.¡±


    ¡°Go out? Where?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care. I just need to feel normal for one fucking night.¡±


    Her legs slide off the bed as she gracefully sweeps up to her feet. ¡°Me too.¡±


    It takes her about a half hour to get ready, even when she¡¯s hogging up the whole bathroom. I peek at her reflection as she applies mascara or whatever the fuck it is.


    ¡°You don¡¯t need all that shit, for chrissakes.¡±


    She looks up at me from the mirror, halfway through powdering her face with a giant brush. ¡°Yeah, I do.¡±


    ¡°Oh, so now you¡¯re going to argue with me?¡± I slide up behind her so that I can run my hands over her perfect ass. The ck skinny jeans she wears don¡¯t leave much to the imagination. My head bends around her neck. ¡°Have you forgotten? I¡¯m the boss.¡±


    Her breath catches in her chest when I squeeze her ass. I kiss her wless neck, fighting the urge to leave a huge hickey for everyone to see.


    She turns around, hands lightly touching my face. Her lips touch the ces where Vince punched me.


    ¡°It¡¯s not as bad as it looks.¡±


    ¡°Well, I suppose you¡¯re the expert.¡±


    We leave the apartment on foot, and Marisa stops for a moment to appreciate the fresh air. I just needed to get out tonight. To think.


    My feet pound the pavement next to Marisa¡¯s, and I think about how I used to walk just like this for so many nights after my sister was killed, my eyes raw and my lungs burning. Just restlessly searching for my little sister. In a big city like this, anything was possible, right?


    Now I feel just as lost. My position in the family is probably more uncertain than ever. My right hand still throbs from beating down Vince.Content provided by N?velDrama.Org.


    Fucking asshole had iting for a long time.


    Still, he¡¯s the underboss.


    Marisa takes my hand and a bit of warmth enters my chest from the small gesture. God, this almost feels normal. It¡¯s as though she¡¯s really my girlfriend, and I¡¯m just taking her out. We walk to one of my favorite bars and I hold the door open for her, grinning. She half-heartedly returns my smile.


    Her eyes are still fractured with the pain from my rejection. How can I tell her that it was a lie? That she makes me happier than I dared thought possible?


    It¡¯s a barpletely covered with wood-with oak barrels cut out as makeshift seats. Candles hang in tiny holes in the walls, on the tables, soft golden light making everyone look just a little bit more beautiful. Marisa orders one of their cocktails and I get a scotch, and then we sit together, tucked away in the corner like a couple.


    She smiles to herself. ¡°You know what we look like?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Like we got into a physical fight, and I won.¡±


    I snort into my drink, scotch dripping down my face. My hand is swollen and my face hurts like a bitch. She¡¯s probably right.


    ¡°Imagine that-you winning a fist fight.¡±


    Her small shoulders lift in a shrug. ¡°You¡¯re really not going to tell me what happened?¡±


    The amber liquid burns down my throat, warming my face when I desperately want it to cool. ¡°I got into a bad fight. I hit someone I really shouldn¡¯t have.¡±


    Her tall pink drink pauses near her lips. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°If I told you it was because I was defending your honor, would you believe me?¡±


    She gives me an unhappy look, as though I made a poor joke. Ironic, really.


    ¡°Who did you hit?¡±


    My jaw tenses. ¡°Vince.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± Marisa takes another measured sip and looks away from my face. ¡°I hate him.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, he can be a dick.¡± I set my drink down, studying the grain of wood through the ss. ¡°But he has a lot of power over me, and he has the boss¡¯ ear.¡±


    ¡°So? What can he do?¡±


    What couldn¡¯t he do? ¡°He could send some guys to beat the shit out of me, teach me a lesson. Mock execution. He¡¯s been known to do those. He might demand for a bigger cut.¡±


    She stares at me, open-mouthed. ¡°You people are a bunch of savages. Although, I don¡¯t know why I¡¯m surprised.¡±


    I blink at her and throw up my hands. ¡°What? Things are settled pretty violently, but it¡¯s effective.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m starting to think that I have more freedom than you do. Why don¡¯t you just talk to the guy tomorrow? Go there and apologize.¡±


    ¡°I was going to, yeah. It just kills me that I have to say sorry to that asshole.¡±


    Marisa guzzles her drink, her eyes a little glossy from the alcohol. ¡°No wonder you mafia bastards aren¡¯t as big as you were in the seventies. If you learned a little restraint, you wouldn¡¯t be in this mess.¡±


    Mafia bastards? She¡¯s definitely had too much to drink.


    ¡°We¡¯re doing just fine, thanks. Just because we aren¡¯t in the news so much-¡±


    Some of her drink spills on herp as she moves towards me. ¡°When are you going to leave this shit?¡±


    ¡°Leave the family?¡±


    A small shock runs through me. It never urred to me. Once you¡¯re made, you can¡¯t just leave. Not without a bullet to the back of your head.


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to leave.¡±


    Marisa looks like she wants to argue with me, like she pities me, but she swallows down her criticisms and says nothing. Besides, what the hell would I do? I dropped out of school-was never good at it, really. This was what I was meant to do. Yes, there¡¯s a lot of brutality and violence, but it¡¯s so much more than that. We¡¯re politicians and businessmen and thieves and enforcers-


    Looking at her, I don¡¯t feel like any of those. I just feel like scum.


    ¡°Hanging out with you in Coney Ind was the most fun I¡¯ve had in ages. It was also my first time with you. I think about it a lot.¡±


    She blushes behind her drink as if she revealed too much, but I curl my arm around her back and bring her closer to me. She¡¯s really smitten with me, isn¡¯t she? A warm glow pulses in my chest when she leans her head on my shoulder. I haven¡¯t had a girl like me like this in a long time. Most of the time, they would get clingy and overly emotional, sending me millions of texts a day until I blocked their numbers. The difference is that I like herpany.


    Maybe I¡¯m just attached to her as she is to me. I can finally sleep at night, knowing that I¡¯m not alone.


    ¡°Me too. I ruined my suit, but it was worth it. I got to have you all to myself for the night.¡±


    I trail my finger under her jaw and lift her head until her mouth points towards mine. The kiss is light at first, but she leans into me and deepens it. Something grows inside me-my chest expands and I feel incredibly warm, but it has nothing to do with the alcohol. I¡¯m almost convinced she feels it, too. Her face radiates warmth as she pulls away, looking agonized and blissful at the same time.


    She touches my neck and I sigh at the contact. ¡°Joe, you have to stop doing this to me.¡±


    Fucking hell. She looks so beautiful that I want to tear off her blouse and fuck her in this bar. ¡°What?¡± I ask, distracted.


    ¡°I told you I had feelings for you. You said you didn¡¯t feel the same, and that¡¯s fine, but-¡±


    I take her face in my hands, forcing her watery blue eyes to meet mine. ¡°Marisa, I lied, okay?¡±


    Her tiny lips tremble with happiness. ¡°Why would you-?¡±


    ¡°Because I didn¡¯t want to give you false hope, but I can¡¯t stand it when you look at me like that.¡±


    ¡°Like what?¡±


    ¡°Like I¡¯ve killed your dog.¡± I kiss her again, mentally berating myself for caving in so quickly. I force myself to pull away from her, to remind her that my words are worthless. ¡°I can¡¯t promise you anything, hon.¡± My thumbs stroke the sides of her face. ¡°I wish I could, but I can¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡±


    The light in her eyes shifts and falls like burning coal, and my chest fills with a prickling sense of loss.


    * * *


    I sigh heavily in front of the wooden door.


    I really don¡¯t want to do this. He doesn¡¯t even know I¡¯ming. I could still leave, if I wanted.


    You know you can¡¯t do that.


    Acid burns my throat as I knock on the door, my heart beating a little faster as it always does in anticipation for a fight. His wife, Adriana, answers the door. She¡¯s dressed in casual clothes, her long brown hair tied in a high ponytail, which makes her normally beautiful features more severe.


    ¡°Joe,¡± she says in a stiff voice.


    So he told her about our fight. Great.


    ¡°Adriana, I¡¯m just here to talk to Vincent.¡±


    She sucks in her breath, seething at me. ¡°Get out of my face before I do something I regret.¡±


    Brown eyes ze at me as I cross my arms, fighting the urge tough. She¡¯s a bit of a spitfire, isn¡¯t she? ¡°I¡¯m just here to apologize, I swear.¡±


    The door doesn¡¯t move until I hear a familiar voice boom down the hall.


    ¡°Let him in, Ade.¡±


    I give her a smirk. See? Your husband knows he¡¯s a piece of shit.


    ¡°Lay another hand on my husband, and I¡¯ll kill you.¡±


    I bite my fist as I enter the foyer, a strangledugh almost escaping my mouth. The idea of this girl hurting me is hrious. Her fierce eyes narrow at myughter and her mouth twists in rage.


    ¡°Ade, stop it.¡± Vince¡¯s voice sounds a little embarrassed.


    What kind of guy lets his wife dole out threats?


    I head towards his voice and see him lounging on his fancy grey couch, holding an ice pack to his head. He gives me a steely look. Adriana returns to his side, brushing the top of his head with her hand. She shoots me another sour look that I ignore.


    ¡°You see what you did to him, you freaking jerk?¡±


    Vince gives me a horrified look and I burst intoughter, unable to keep it inside me anymore. The house echoes with the sound. I gasp for air, my hands on my knees as tears leak from my eyes. Even more hrious is the palpable fury on her face and Vince¡¯s red face.


    Who knew that tough-guy Vince is bullied by his own wife?


    An angry look darkens his face. ¡°Adriana, back the fuck off! Will you please give us some privacy?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not done talking about this,¡± she hisses in his ear. Then she stalks past me, bumping into my shoulder as I continue to shake withughter.


    ¡°Laugh it up, asshole.¡± He shakes his head when she ms the bedroom door. ¡°I love her, but sometimes I think she wants to rip my balls off. Fuck¡¯s sake.¡±


    We share a smile and I walk over to the couch, sinking into its cushions. Another bubble ofughter threatens to escape when I see the bruise on his face. Fuck. I got him good.


    ¡°Look, I just wanted to apologize for what I did. I was way out of line.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, you were.¡± He glowers at me with his one eye, and tosses the bag on the coffee table, looking uncharacteristically troubled. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, too. I know I¡¯m always breaking your balls. You just-you remind me a lot of myself. I¡¯ve been treating you like a little brother, and I know it¡¯s not right.¡±


    Seriously?


    The idea that Vince actually thinks of me as a little brother feels a little condescending, but it also surprises me in a way that makes me feel pretty damn awkward.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry you had such shitty brothers.¡± I stand up from the couch, but Vince motions me back down. I sink back into the cushions with a sigh.


    ¡°No, that¡¯s not it,¡± he growls, quickly backtracking. ¡°You¡¯re not a little brother. I just see you making the same goddamn mistakes I did, and it drives me up the wall.¡±


    I¡¯ve never seen him look so agitated. What the fuck is he talking about? My sister?


    I bury my face in my hands as heat burns my chest. Christ, I don¡¯t want to talk about Janice. Not fucking now. Not again. I lift up my head and see him staring at me with a determined look on his face. Burying my resentment, I try to inject a grateful tone in my voice. ¡°Whatever. I appreciate it.¡±


    ¡°Do you love her?¡±


    What?


    Iugh at the question but at the same time, blood rushes to my face. I expect a wisecrack, a jibe, a smirk, but his face is dead serious. ¡°Marisa? How the fuck should I know?¡±


    His voice drops and he nces to the door where his wife disappeared. ¡°I was in the same position as you with Jack.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡±


    ¡°He told me to whack her.¡±


    My eyes feel dry and I lick my lips. I¡¯m only vaguely familiar with the story. It happened not long after I was made. ¡°Why?¡±


    He shakes his head as if throwing off an irritating fly. ¡°It¡¯s a long story, and it doesn¡¯t matter. What does matter is that I sacrificed a lot and almost got killed, but I didn¡¯t give a fuck because I loved her. I just hope that you¡¯re not just protecting that broad out of kindness. We have no room for that in this business. Things might get ugly, and then you¡¯ll have to make a choice. Just make sure it¡¯s a choice you won¡¯t regret.¡±


    I stare at him, open-mouthed. How did he know? How did he see the struggle raging inside me? Vince sinks back into his cushions and grabs the ice pack, holding it up to his face again. I want to ask him more about why he did what he did, but I don¡¯t.


    ¡°Adriana!¡± he bellows.


    She steps into the living room, looking extremely cross as she joins her husband on the couch and slides a hand over his thigh protectively. He turns his head and soothes her with a kiss.


    ¡°He apologized, baby. There¡¯s no need to look so pissed off.¡±


    Adriana responds to his lips, her face softening as he strokes her arm. I wish there was something for me to do because I feel like I¡¯m watching something private between them. My heart throbs against my chest as I watch them fawn over each other, and then I look away. Somehow, watching them together is like a knife twisting in my chest. My tongue curls against the bitter taste in my mouth.


    I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll ever have that.


    Vince¡¯s abrasive voice snaps me out of it. ¡°Could you get us drinks, please?¡±


    Suddenly, she stands up from the couch and gives him a withering look. ¡°Get your own fucking drinks.¡±


    ¡°Adriana!¡± His voice snaps like a whip and the fierce expression on her face falters.


    It¡¯s like watching a battle of wills. Eventually, her re drops and she turns to the kitchen. ¡°What do you want?¡±


    ¡°Get me a coke. Joe?¡±


    ¡°Same.¡±


    Vince gives me a meaningful look as she turns her back: Women.


    We sip drinks on the coffee table, shooting bullshit as his wife gives terse responses. It¡¯s been a long time since I¡¯ve hung out with anyone casually. My sister¡¯s death drove me into solitude and I shut everyone out. Only now do I understand how much that cost me. I feel rxed. Content.


    Only¡­I wish she was here.


    What Vince said got me thinking. Now that I¡¯m away from her, I do miss her. I want her beside me, if only to not feel so lonely as I do right now in their presence. Love her? I don¡¯t know. I can¡¯t answer that question. It scares me too much.


    My phone buzzes in my jacket and I pull it out without thinking.


    ¡°This is Joe.¡±


    ¡°Joe, you need to get over here right away.¡±


    Jack¡¯s voice is panicked, fueled with rage. Vincent sees me tense and motions something. ¡°Jack? What¡¯s the matter?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t say on the phone. Just get to the club now. Where¡¯s the girl?¡±


    Slowly, my insides turn to ice. ¡°I left her with Ben. I¡¯m at Vince¡¯s.¡±


    ¡°Perfect. Tell him toe, now.¡±

 3-24

    The dark carpet pulses with a throaty beat, and I feel it crawl up my leg, right inside my chest to pound like a second heart beat. Except, mine¡¯s going much faster. I wipe my hands on my jeans as Vince walks beside me, just as tense.


    ¡°What is this about?¡±


    ¡°I have no idea. He just said to get over here immediately.¡±


    I feel like we keep having the same fucking conversation. I¡¯m sure that whatever has Jack in such a panic has to do with Marisa, somehow. And it makes blood pound in my brain like a sledgehammer. Fucking hell, I¡¯ve never felt like this before.


    Don¡¯t show weakness.


    I walk around the cocktail waitresses and strippers in a haze, and I rip open the Employees Only door for Vince, who heads straight in. Inside the dark office, Jack and the other capos are already gathered. The scene looks tense.


    Jack¡¯s dark eyes immediately zero in on me and his teeth clench together, his hair shaking with rage. ¡°That fucking bitch sold thepany.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± It sounds like my voice, but it¡¯s Vince¡¯s.


    The guys surrounding Jack shoot usatory res at me. I walk to the pool table where Jack stands and look into his furious face.


    It¡¯s just not possible.Exclusive ? material by N?(/v)elDrama.Org.


    ¡°There¡¯s no fucking way, Jack. I¡¯ve been with her all this time. How the fuck could she do that?¡±


    ¡°You let her get under your skin, you fucking dumbass.¡± He grabs the cor of my shirt and shoves me hard. ¡°How could you let this happen?¡±


    Vince approaches the pool table, looking shocked as he grabs the newspaper sitting on the table, announcing the sale of Worlds Casino to Lences Holdings.


    Holy shit.


    ¡°Jack, I told you. I haven¡¯t let her out of my sight. Not even to take a goddamn piss. How the fuck could she have gotten away with it?¡±


    He releases me, his rage dropping somewhat as he runs a hand through his gray hair. The boss of New York paces in front of me, thinking.


    ¡°She still has her phone, doesn¡¯t she? She might¡¯ve convened with her board while you were out-while Ben was watching her. Useless prick.¡±


    That indeed must have been what happened. A hot rush of betrayal fills my cheeks as I look down at the newspaper, the angry bold letters proving that I was a moron to trust her. She did this behind my back-why?


    Why would she do this?


    Vince snatches it out of my hands and he hurls it back onto the table. ¡°Fuck. We need to act fast. I want that Jamie cocksucker dead. I want his whole crew finished.¡± He ms his fists into the pool table. ¡°We¡¯re New York, for fuck¡¯s sake! It¡¯s time to put them back in their fucking ce!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯ll be that easy. Jamie¡¯s a slippery fuck. We don¡¯t even know where they hang out.¡±


    Jack moves closer to me. I¡¯m still staring at the spot where the newspaper used to be. His oppressive presence fills me with dread; I don¡¯t dare look at him because I¡¯m afraid of what he¡¯ll ask.


    ¡°I want that bitch gone, Joey. Do it tonight and get rid of her.¡±


    The ground seems to fall beneath my feet. A swooping sense of horror vacuums the air from my lungs. My fingers dig into the felt. ¡°No,¡± I say in a shaking voice. ¡°No, I can¡¯t do it.¡±


    He seizes my arm, his nails digging into my flesh. I¡¯m barely able to register any pain at all. ¡°She needs to go.¡±


    Suddenly, Vince is at my side. ¡°Joe, let¡¯s talk in the office.¡±


    His low voice gives me a spark of hope. Maybe he¡¯ll know a way out of this. He said he went through the same thing, didn¡¯t he? Jack nods and I numbly follow Vince into the office. When the door closes behind me, I fall into the chair in front of Vince¡¯s desk, but he doesn¡¯t go behind it. He sits next to me.


    ¡°This is so fucking unfortunate,¡± he says, kicking the desk out of anger.


    I can see him sitting on his chair, his elbows on his knees as he gauges my reaction.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, but I have to agree with Jack. She¡¯s got to go.¡±


    Vince¡¯s face is full of regret, but his eyes are ruthless. There¡¯s no way out of this. He knows it. I know it.


    I want to scream. An image of myself taking the desk and throwing it against the wall burns in my mind. I¡¯m bleeding to death. It¡¯s like my sister all over again. The crushing weight of despair, of never-ending solitude, and fear squeezes my chest until I¡¯m gasping for air. I bury my face in my hands and my eyes burn. My sister¡¯s dead and now she¡¯s dead, too.


    She was thest hope I had for myself, and now that¡¯s gone.


    ¡°I can¡¯t do this, Vince. I fucking can¡¯t.¡± Tears burn my eyes as I shake my head, my voice trembling. ¡°Please, Vince. I can¡¯t do it!¡±


    I can¡¯t look into her eyes and pull the trigger. To do so would be to kill thest human part of me. I¡¯ll never escape my guilt, because I do feel something for her. It explodes out of me, just like Janice¡¯s death. It¡¯s strong and it hurts.


    He wraps an arm around my shaking back and squeezes my shoulder. ¡°All right. I understand. Someone else will do it.¡±


    ¡°No!¡± A raw, animalistic noise leaves my throat as I lift my head and look at Vince. His eyes crease with sympathy, but at the same time, he¡¯s holding back.


    ¡°This has to be done, Joe,¡± he says in a hard voice.


    Has to?


    I sit up without caring that he can see tears swimming in my eyes. There won¡¯t be apromise from him. She¡¯ll die, and they¡¯ll do it their way.


    She will suffer.


    Breath catches in my throat. ¡°I¡¯ll do it.¡±


    I don¡¯t want anyone to hurt her. They won¡¯t be gentle. They might drag it out. Oh, God. The idea of cleaning her up makes me sick.


    The panicked voice inside my head booms in my ear. I can¡¯t do this! I can¡¯t fucking kill her!


    ¡°Think about everything you¡¯ve worked for, Joe. You don¡¯t want to throw all that away.¡±


    Throw it away? But it¡¯s okay for me to throw her away? I can¡¯t just ignore the fact that having her around made me happier than I¡¯ve been in months. Oh, God. What am I supposed to do? She¡¯s the piece of my heart that screams right now. I just started fucking feeling normal again, and now-?


    I have to make a choice and stick with it. Kill her or suffer the consequences. My head pounds as I try to think about the logistics of it all, what I¡¯ll do with her body-and a wave of nausea hits me hard. It¡¯ll be easier-it¡¯ll be less painful to be killed than to do this to her. But the family is my life. My loyalty never wavered until now. Never have I felt so divided, so unsure.


    My heart doesn¡¯t feel divided. It knows what it wants: her. I can¡¯t do this without losing a part of me forever.


    ¡°Joe?¡±


    ¡°You told me I had to make a choice. I¡¯m making one now.¡±

 3-25

    MARISA


    The needle of the grandfather clock ticks loudly. Every tick snaps through me, almost as if it beats in tandem with my heart. The guy that Joe left to watch over me doesn¡¯t say much. He stands against the wall, and helps himself to a beer in the fridge, looking at me as if he doesn¡¯t know what to make of me.


    I wonder how long it¡¯ll be until I can finally go home without being followed. But here¡¯s the disturbing part: I don¡¯t mind being with Joe all the time. We get along pretty well. Pretty amazingly well, if you think about the circumstances. He even cooks for me. Tonight, I wanted to return the favor.


    I¡¯ve started something in the kitchen. My dad made a pretty mean spaghetti sauce. Ben watches carefully as I slice vegetables and throw them into the giant pot. It¡¯s unorthodox to put so many vegetables into the gravy, but I don¡¯t care. Dad didn¡¯t really raise us as traditional Italians. A flutter of warmth stirs in my chest when I imagine the moment he will walk through the door, wearing a beaming smile. He¡¯s reallye a long way since the first time I met him. He doesn¡¯t seem so sad.


    I tip a can of crushed tomatoes inside the pot and stir vigorously. Ben licks his lips as the steam of cooking vegetables and meat fill the small kitchen, and I smile a bit to myself.


    How strange.


    Ben always gives me the impression that he wishes he was somewhere else, but then he gets a phone call, raises the phone to his ear, and his expression shifts. All of a sudden, his face tightens and he looks at me intently after he hangs up the phone. The stare he gives me reminds me of wolves. The energy between us feels different. He moves near the door, his limbs tense as if he thinks I¡¯m going to sprint outside.


    ¡°Something wrong?¡±


    He sters a smile on his face, and for some reason it gives me chills. It¡¯s all wrong. The eyebrows don¡¯t raise, and the eyes are narrowed in malevolence.


    ¡°Nah. Joe will be home, soon.¡±


    In that moment, he reminds me strongly of Nathan, my psychopathic brother who spent my younger years torturing me. I turn my back on the frightening image and grab the wooden spoon, feeling his gaze on the back of my neck.


    He¡¯s been gone so long. Joe told me he was only going to Vince¡¯s house to apologize. Surely, he should be back by now.


    Then a knock shatters the silence, and I jump. Red sauce flies as the spoon drops to the kitchen floor.


    Damn it.


    I grab a bunch of paper towels. Ben gives me a thoughtful re as he opens the door. I bend to my knees and wipe the floor, looking up at the door.


    Joe stands in the threshold, his handsome face frozen and emotionless. A cold feeling runs down my spine as he turns around and looks at me, giving me the exact same smile as Ben¡¯s.


    I freeze on the floor. My hand closes over the wooden spoon like it¡¯s a weapon.


    Joe¡¯s harsh face turns to Ben. ¡°Get out.¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯ll need help.¡±


    The growl thates from Joe¡¯s voice scares me. I¡¯ve never heard something so deadly in my life. ¡°I said, get out.¡±


    The younger man gives me a look like a dog denied a tasty treat, and exits the apartment. He ms the door and I feel the tremble of the walls shaking through my heart.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±


    Joe says nothing as he walks into the kitchen, but he smiles that unnerving smile. I stand up with the sodden paper towels and spoon, throwing the towels away and tossing the spoon in the sink.


    ¡°Nothing¡¯s wrong. Did you make this for me?¡±


    His smile looks strained on his face. He can barely keep it on his lips. The pot bubbles quietly with the sauce as he looks at it. He¡¯s filled with pain that seems toe out of nowhere.


    ¡°Well, not just for you. I¡¯m not that selfless.¡±Exclusive ? material by N?(/v)elDrama.Org.


    It¡¯s a joke. A poor one, but a joke nheless. I expect a smile, at least.


    Nothing.


    Joe reaches over the stove and turns the burner off.


    I touch his hand. ¡°But it¡¯s not done!¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter.¡±


    The way he says it sounds like nothing matters to him. Coldness spreads under my skin as if my veins are pumped with ice instead of blood.


    For a moment we stand there, the ticking of the clock like a bomb. ¡°What does that mean?¡±


    Rough hands circle my neck, his thumbs stroking my sensitive skin. He pulls me in, surrounding me with his protective strength that I¡¯vee to yearn for. I kiss his chest as his hands trail down my body, anchoring under my ass. Iugh as he picks me up, but the look on his face is no nonsense. I can¡¯t tell if he¡¯s turned on or upset. Maybe a bit of both.


    His eyes shine with need. I bend my head, kissing him as he carries me into the bedroom. Joe deposits me on the bed gently and then stands back, looking lost.


    ¡°What¡¯s the matter?¡±


    I sit on the edge of the bed and grab ahold of his belt, eager to feel his skin burning under my hands. His hand grips mine and squeezes hard.


    I look into his widened eyes.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what to do with you. You weren¡¯t supposed to-I wasn¡¯t supposed to be so into you.¡±


    That makes my heart throb against my chest. If that¡¯s true, why does he sound so upset? He pushes me against the bed and climbs over me, clothes still on. The beat of my heart seems absurdly loud. He ces his palm over my stomach and I feel the heavy beat of my aorta jumping into his hand.


    The back of my head stings with pain as he grabs a fistful of hair and pulls hard. His lips crash over me, his tongue darting inside. I can taste alcohol on his lips. He tears my shirt off, kissing down my neck, almost biting. The wetness of his mouth sends dizzying jolts of pleasure up my thigh, into the glowing heat between my legs. Fuck, I want him.


    Secondster, he unzips my pants. The very sound makes my pussy clench. Warm fingers dive in. He wastes no time and curves his finger against my clit. I¡¯m already soaking, clenching over the two hard fingers thrusting inside. Oh my God. His mouth closes over my lip and he bites the sensitive flesh.


    ¡°Joe.¡±


    ¡°It turns me on when you say my name like that.¡± He sighs for a moment, fingers thrusting brutally. ¡°You¡¯re so fucking perfect-and mine.¡±


    My fingers rake over his jacket. I wish I were running them over his bare skin. I¡¯m wet all over his hand. He slides out and rubs my clit as I cling to his neck, moaning. I reach down and grab his cock. It¡¯s hard as a rock and his eyes harden. Joe wants me now. The jeans scrape my skin as he tears them off. He rips my panties-the fabric tears as he grabs two edges and yanks. I feel the dampness of his skin through his shirt and my body clenches as cold air stings my wet core. He doesn¡¯t even pull down his pants. I unzip him and he pulls his cock out. It dives right between my legs and he hammers it home as my legs lift over his back.


    Fuck.


    I¡¯m so loud. My voice bounces off the walls, ringing in my ears until he silences me with his lips and tongue. The pace that he fucks me with is brutal. I can hardly breathe-can¡¯t dwell on any one thing with him enveloped all around me. There are his fingers, grabbing my tits and pulling my hair so hard it hurts, and then wrapping around my throat. Then, there¡¯s his mouth. He finds a spot and bites, and then another, harder and harder until I yelp with pain, and there are the sounds of us joining together filling my ears, along with his guttural moans and my high-pitched breaths. His cock pounds at me like a piston, brutal in his pace, not stopping for anything. He¡¯s never fucked me like this. It feels desperate.


    It¡¯s like there¡¯s a gun to his head.


    Then the feeling of him thrusting is all I can think about. All-consuming pleasure snarls my limbs, holding me hostage to this man¡¯s body. He always makes me feel so amazing. Every moment in his presence is like being slightly tipsy. Oh, God. The feeling I get when he holds me. It¡¯s just-incredible. I scream and dig my fingers into his back. Hees hard, digging into me as his cock jerks. His legs shake and he opens his eyes, his face twisted in pain.


    What¡¯s wrong?


    I¡¯m still lying on the bed, feeling like all my bones are shattered, but he rolls off and sits on the edge of the bed. He leans into his palms. His back still heaves with shaking breaths, and for one extremely shocked moment, I wonder if he¡¯s crying.


    Joe irons his face with his hands, his face stretched with a grimace of pain. I sit up, heart pounding.


    ¡°Hey, what¡¯s wrong?¡±


    His back recoils under my fingers. He stands up while he dresses and stares at me, face indiscernible in the dark. ¡°Come with me.¡±


    He wordlessly stalks out of the bedroom, leaving me stunned. What the hell is going on? Then I grab my t-shirt and pull it over my head, following him out. Back in the kitchen, under the harsh lights, he stands like a terrible, dark God. His hair falls in front of his eyes, which remind me of ck tunnels. There¡¯s no emotion on his face, nothing that would exin the anguish he felt in the bedroom.


    He pulls a chair out. ¡°Sit.¡±


    Fear starts to prickle through my limbs when I sit down.


    Joe does something peculiar-he moves through the house, making sure all the windows are shut. Panic zes inside me. Why? Why is he doing that?


    My heart knows something that my brain doesn¡¯t. It leaps against my chest, pounding my ribs, as he moves from room to room. I stand in the kitchen, my legs trembling, and I nce towards the door, knowing that I should run, but not sure why. I trust him, don¡¯t I?


    He enters the kitchen and opens a drawer of knives, grabbing something inside.


    Then it all clicks together.


    ¡°Joe, how could you?¡±


    Sickened, horrified, I back against the chair and fall backwards, cracking my head on the linoleum. He pounces on me, dead eyes staring ahead as he curls his hands around my shoulder and lifts me up. For once, I don¡¯t feel a thrill from his touch. I just feel cold and empty.


    ¡°Please, Joe!¡±


    He forces me into the upright chair, pinning me with one hand as he grabs the roll of duct tape sitting on the table.


    ¡°Why are you doing this? Talk to me!¡±


    But he won¡¯t even look at me. Every sound in the kitchen is amplified to the thousandth degree. His biting fingers on my body feel like knives.


    You have to run. He¡¯s going to-


    No, I can¡¯t ept it. I can¡¯t. I haven¡¯t worked so hard for all of it toe to this. My chest strains for air as if I¡¯m already dying. One by one, he pins my arms and legs, wrapping tape around them so tightly that I can¡¯t move. The tape constricts my skin and my hands swell with redness.


    ¡°JOE!¡±


    Dead, haunted eyes finally flick towards me. I feel his soul tremble. He looks absolutely destroyed. Devastated. There¡¯s no lightness in his face. Did all of his victims see this before he murdered them? He touches my face and I try not to flinch from the cold. His face leans in close enough so that I feel his frantic breaths billowing over my face. He¡¯s just as close to losing it as I am. Heat rushes into my skin when he kisses my jaw softly, his hands shaking. The breathse in and out more and more frantically. Finally, his lips brush against mine and he grabs the back of my head, kissing me as if it¡¯s thest time. I don¡¯t feel any of it, just a cold horror.


    Joe pulls away, his eyes wet as he takes the gun strapped to his ankle and points it directly at me. It shakes.


    My heart breaks. It¡¯s as if he already shot me.


    ¡°I¡¯m-I¡¯m sorry. You were-¡±


    ¡°-Nothing. I¡¯m nothing to you.¡±


    He¡¯s already referring to me in past tense. In his mind, I¡¯m already dead. He ripped my heart out and stamped on it. Fucked me and now he¡¯s going to kill me. What a sick bastard. He just had to have one more go with my body. No, he never gave a shit about me.


    The gun dips and then rises again. Joe wipes his face with his free hand. Even if he fired, the bullet might miss. His arm shakes so badly.


    ¡°That¡¯s not true.¡±


    Iugh at him. I¡¯m so fucking numb, that I don¡¯t care anymore. I don¡¯t care. The tears running down my face annoy me. ¡°You were going to fuck me and kill me. That¡¯s all I was to you, wasn¡¯t I? Just a great fuck who you could throw away when you needed to.¡±


    ¡°No!¡± The word sounds violent, strangled from his throat. ¡°I¡¯m in love with you.¡±


    I can¡¯t evenugh. It¡¯s ridiculous, but it¡¯s not funny.


    ¡°You¡¯re sick in the head.¡±


    His face screws up in pain, and he clutches his chest as if it actually hurts him. ¡°I love you, but I can¡¯t keep you safe. They want you dead. If I don¡¯t do it, they will-and they¡¯ll-it won¡¯t be as fast.¡± Tears burn down his face.


    It¡¯s like an avnche. My body is hit with huge blows, one after the other.


    But Joe is showing even less resolve than ever. The gun trembles in his hands, moving up and down my body. He turns his head away as if he can¡¯t even bear to look at what he¡¯s about to do, which is end my life.


    I¡¯m going to die.


    Then I cry. The strength I had to snap at him dissolves and I can only think about how shitty my life has been, and how little I aplished while I was alive. Will my siblings even care? Jessica, maybe.


    Chances are, they will never find my body.


    My high gasp bounces off the ceiling. ¡°Please, don¡¯t do this! I don¡¯t want to die!¡±


    ¡°I told you,¡± he says through his teeth, looking deranged. ¡°Don¡¯t expect anything from me. I¡¯m not what you think I am.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not a monster. That¡¯s why you can¡¯t do this. If you do, you¡¯ll never be able to forgive yourself.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± he says in a small voice.


    I lean forward so that the tape cuts into my wrists. ¡°Kill me, and you¡¯re no different from that man who killed your sister.¡±


    For a moment, rage thickens his features and the gun rises to my head. I want to squint and turn away, but I force myself to stare at him.


    ¡°You¡¯re not my sister. You¡¯re not exactly innocent, Marisa.¡±


    ¡°Fuck you. What the fuck did I ever do to deserve this?¡±


    ¡°They know about the sale, Marisa.¡±


    Anxiety shoots through my chest. ¡°Sale? What sale?¡±


    ¡°Worlds Casino. You met with your board members and made the sale to Lences Holdings.¡±


    That is what this is all about? Fury explodes in my voice. ¡°And how the fuck was I able to do that with you watching me day and night?¡±


    He wants to kill me. He has to kill me.


    But he can¡¯t.


    The gun drops away and he ms it on the table. ¡°You called them while I was gone.¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you fucking ask your friend outside if I made any phone calls before you blow my head open? Or better yet, check my phone. See if I¡¯ve made any phone calls in thest week.¡±


    He res at me suspiciously as he disappears for a moment to get my phone. He cycles through the list and his face softens. The phone hangs limply in his hand as he stares at me. All the energy seems to drain out of him. His hand clenches the head of a chair as a look of dawningprehension falls on his face. ¡°Oh, Maddon.¡±


    The chair topples to the floor, but he ignores it. He grabs his hair in his fists and makes an unhinged sound, his eyes white all around.


    I have no fucking idea what¡¯s happening anymore.


    ¡°What is going on?¡±


    ¡°Your brother-your fucking brother.¡± He strides to the kitchen counter and grabs something that looks like a knife.


    I struggle in my restraints as hees closer, convinced that he¡¯s going to sink the de in my stomach. He sinks down to his knees, his expression pained, and he quickly snips through the restraints.


    Have I been granted a reprieve?


    Tears flood down my face and Joe takes me in his arms, nearly crushing me to death as he clutches me to his chest. ¡°I¡¯m sorry! I¡¯m sorry!¡± he cries.


    He made me think that I was going to die. Joe is red-faced and ashamed, but I can barely make him out. Tears blur everything together. ¡°I-I can¡¯t-¡±


    ¡°We need to go,¡± he says urgently. ¡°I think I know what happened, but I need proof from your brother.¡±


    The relief from being granted a reprieve from death still has me breathless. I can¡¯t think of anything else, except how d I am to be alive. ¡°Proof?¡±


    I¡¯m still swimming in tears, the sting of his betrayal buried deep inside me.


    Now¡¯s not the time.


    He kisses my stunned face. ¡°Yeah. I think everything will be okay.¡±

 3-26

    Family. They¡¯re important, right? They¡¯re supposed to be there for you, stick up for you, bail you out of jail, care for you when you¡¯re sick, and all that jazz. Maybe it¡¯s cause I¡¯m Italian, but I always put so much stock into family. Blood¡¯s thicker than water. Family, family, family. It was practically beaten into my head as a kid. Ironic, considering my parents divorced. People who knew us thought we were the picture-perfect family. Such happy kids. Then Mom left, and we were alone for a while. The image wasn¡¯t as perfect. Nathan had one less person to keep him in check.


    My brother really doesn¡¯t live that far away. We drive there in silence as I nervously count down the minutes. Even though I know my life is depending on it, I hope he¡¯s wrong. I hope both my siblings didn¡¯t go behind my back to sell thepany. We¡¯re a family. We weren¡¯t supposed to be like this.


    Lately, though, it seems like my father was the glue holding all of us together. Makes perfect sense, really. The moment he died, it all fell apart. The stitches holding us together were never that strong, but this is so much worse.


    He parks in front of Nathan¡¯s brownstone and I get out, looking up at the intimidating architecture as if my brother stands over me. Joe¡¯s presence creeps up behind me and his palm runs up my back. I can¡¯t fucking bear his touch.


    I cross my arms and move out of the sphere of his arms.


    Fuck him.


    Murdering psychopath.


    ¡°Do you think he¡¯s home?¡±


    It¡¯ste in the evening and I know Nathan usually goes out to eat, but there are lights on in the house. All the fucking lies, the backstabbing, the betrayal-I¡¯m sick of it. Sick of him. I¡¯ve epted it now before I¡¯ve even spoken to him. Nathan did this. Of course he did.


    My fist ms on the door. The door rattles as I reach up high and pound the motherfucker, imagining Nathan and Joe¡¯s faces. He takes my shoulders and pulls me back.


    ¡°Easy, killer. You¡¯re going to tip him off.¡±


    I send him a withering look and he has the grace to look ashamed. He does not get to use pet names for me or be sweet. He does not get to pretend like he just didn¡¯t try to kill me. The door cracks open and a sliver of Nathan shows through the door.


    ¡°Marisa. I¡¯m afraid I¡¯m upied at the moment-¡±


    Joe motions me to step back and then he ms his body into the door, the flimsy chain holding the door closing breaking off. Nathan yells in outrage as Joe flies into the foyer and grabs his neck, mming my brother¡¯s head into the wall. Heart pounding, I step inside and shut the door.


    ¡°Shut the fuck up,¡± Joe hisses.


    Nathan¡¯s apartment is an upscale ce, filled with the most pretentious furniture you could imagine. Antique desks and vases, a long, white b for a couch, and prints hung on the walls that he thought could probably pass as real paintings. It¡¯s all too deliberately color-coded, as if he expected someone to walk into his apartment at any moment and critique it. There are no personal effects. No photographs save for a small one of Dad in the living room. Just to keep up appearances.


    He snarls at me as Joe grinds his face into the wall. I walk close enough to smell his toothpaste-scented breath.


    ¡°You convened with the board behind my back to sell thepany. We both know that that¡¯s illegal. Did you really think that would work?¡±


    ¡°Get this fucking meathead off of me!¡±


    ¡°Not until you admit it!¡±


    He breathes through his nostrils like a bull snorting. Blue eyes cut into me, the irises like the white-blue me of a hot fire. ¡°Yeah, I fucking did it. Only, it wasn¡¯t illegal. You¡¯re out.¡±


    Joe pulls him off the wall and marches him into the living room, throwing him onto the couch. He stands up, but Joe forces him back down. Nathan gives me a look filled with livid fear.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re trying to gain by being here-¡±


    ¡°What did you mean?¡± My voice grows louder. ¡°What do you mean, I¡¯m out?¡±


    A jackal-like smile spreads over his lips. He sits up straight, gripping the edge of the couch. ¡°You were voted out.¡±


    A violent flush fills my cheeks as Nathan gloats with that sickening smile. They voted me out?


    ¡°Don¡¯t look so surprised. You haven¡¯t been living up to the boards¡¯ expectations, and choosing to skip out on work all week didn¡¯t do you any favors.¡±


    His words cut deep into my soul. The ice-blue eyes follow me as I sit down on one of the horribly ufortable chairs. Joe¡¯s face creases in sympathy and he makes a sudden movement, as if he wants toe to my side, but instead he grabs Nathan¡¯s shoulder and squeezes.


    ¡°That¡¯splete bullshit. My associate has attended board meetings-¡±


    ¡°Oh, you mean Vincent? Yeah, the board took to him very well. Especially when everybody knows who he¡¯s associated with.¡±


    Joe¡¯s swift fistes out of nowhere, plying against Nathan¡¯s face. He drops down to the floor and moans in pain.


    ¡°Joe, please. You got your confession. Can we leave, now?¡±


    ¡°No, because it¡¯s all a lie.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not a fucking lie!¡± he screams from the floor.


    Joe shuts him up with a sudden kick to his stomach. His face reddens like a tomato and he makes a hideous sound.


    Jesus, I can¡¯t watch this. He¡¯s still my brother-I don¡¯t feel a shred of satisfaction from watching him scream in pain. Especially when it was all my fault to begin with.


    ¡°Tell me the fucking truth! What deal did you cut with Jamie?¡±


    ¡°That man is a better businessman than you Vittorio fuck-ups. He didn¡¯t have to beat me to get me involved. Fuck you!¡± He cringes as Joe aims another steel-toed boot towards his gut.


    ¡°Nathan, don¡¯t you realize what you¡¯ve done? Dad was involved with the Vittorios. He got mixed up with the wrong people. I was almost killed because of the sale. It won¡¯t go through. It can¡¯t.¡±


    Nathan looks up at me, unconcerned by the hysteria in my voice. ¡°Jessica and I wanted out. Jamie gave me a pretty good deal, so I took it. I don¡¯t give a shit what happens to you.¡±


    Thest piece of clinging hope drops away, quickly eaten by mes. Jessica might have just been a casualty. ¡°Fine, you hate me, but what about your other sister? She has no idea what¡¯s going on, does she?¡±


    He smiles, and this time I feel a small thrill of triumph when Joe seizes him upright and smashes his fist against his face. Nathan¡¯s nose breaks and blood pours out of his nose. He screams and holds his hand to himself, trying to stem the flow of blood.


    I don¡¯t want to be here anymore. I don¡¯t want to look at his face for one more second. I turn my back on the two men struggling together.


    ¡°Marisa, where the fuck are you going?¡±


    My feet hardly make a sound as I leave my brother¡¯s apartment and walk outside. I sit down on the stairs of his brownstone, trying to escape the pain of his vicious words. There is a ringing of truth to them, which makes it all the more worse. I wasn¡¯t good enough to be President. Dad made a mistake.


    Who the fuck cares about Dad?


    I jump at the sound of the door closing and feel a pair of footsteps jogging down the steps. He sits down beside me, his warmth no longer afort. All it does is remind me of how fucked up my life is.


    ¡°We should go before he calls the cops.¡±


    His hands are smeared with blood, his knuckles slightly swollen from beating the shit out of my brother.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe they voted me out. I tried so hard.¡±


    ¡°Marisa, I don¡¯t think he told us the whole story. There¡¯s more to it than that.¡±


    I stand up quickly. Right now, I can¡¯t stomach any kind of reassurance from a man who only hours ago, tried to put a bullet in my head. ¡°Take me to my apartment.¡±


    His face darkens. ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s a good idea.¡±


    ¡°I want to go home.¡±


    Joe stands up wearily. ¡°Fine.¡±


    The ride there is ufortably silent. Emotions broil inside me. I¡¯m just waiting for him to say something wrong, so that I cansh out at someone. This is worse than the day my dad died. I just want to be alone and wallow in the misery of it all. I need to drown myself in cartoons and feel light for a moment.


    I turn on Joe when he follows me to the door of my apartment. ¡°Go home. Do whatever the fuck you people do. You have your fucking proof, and I¡¯m not the head of thepany anymore.¡±


    He recoils as if I struck him. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m ashamed of myself-¡±


    A hystericalugh echoes down the hallway. ¡°Oh! You¡¯re ashamed? Fuck, I would have never guessed that you almost killed someone for no reason.¡±


    He stands there, looking like a browbeaten kid as I unleash my tirade.This is property ? of N?velDrama.Org.


    ¡°How about self-disgust, because you disgust me. I¡¯m probably the biggest moron who ever lived. I actually thought you cared about me.¡±


    Joe takes my hands and yanks me into his chest. ¡°Marisa, I could have never hurt you. Please believe me.¡± His lips tremble, white and shaking. ¡°They would have gotten to you anyway, I was just trying-¡±


    ¡°So death was my only option? I couldn¡¯t have taken a train somewhere? You couldn¡¯t have done that, you fucking asshole?¡±


    ¡°No. They were watching me. Jack knew I was too attached to you. He didn¡¯t trust me to do the job.¡±


    Still, the act was inexcusable. His mouth could run with all the reasons in the world, and I still wouldn¡¯t forgive him. Utter devastation wracks through my limbs and suddenly, tears choke through my voice. I know what I have to do, but it kills me to do it. He¡¯s the only man who ever understood me. He makes me feel like I¡¯m incredible, and no one has ever been able to do that.


    Joe destroyed all of that when he put that gun to my head.


    ¡°I never want to see you again.¡±


    His face falls apart, and for a moment he looks like I¡¯ve stabbed him in the chest. The emotion on his face takes the wind out of my sails momentarily, but then his face hardens. ¡°I¡¯m not letting you go that easily, Marisa.¡±


    ¡°Get the fuck out of my life,¡± I say between gasps.


    I want to shove him out of my face, but he pins both arms on the sides of my head and against my will my skin tingles.


    ¡°You don¡¯t want that. New Jersey might have backed off, but they still might consider you a threat.¡±


    Tears rise in a lump lodged in my throat. I swallow them down. ¡°I don¡¯t have anything you want anymore. There¡¯s no reason for you to give a shit about my life.¡±


    Inches from my face, he speaks. ¡°Yeah, there is. I¡¯m in love with you.¡±


    Nothing but shock radiates down my limbs. He loves me? No, the bastard thinks he does. He¡¯s so fucked up in the head, that he can¡¯t realize what a healthy rtionship is. A sickening soaring sensation fills my chest. ¡°You don¡¯t love me.¡±


    A smile twitches on his lips. ¡°Yeah, I do. Otherwise I wouldn¡¯t have gone through all this trouble to prove your innocence. I would have gotten rid of you and been on my way.¡±


    ¡°God, you¡¯re fucking sick in the head.¡±


    His eyes are dented with pain. ¡°I know, Marisa. I know that. I made a huge mistake, and I don¡¯t deserve your forgiveness. I don¡¯t want it.¡±


    The feeling I get when I look into his eyes scares me. The tenderness in his eyes makes me want to forgive him.


    ¡°You¡¯re more important than the family. You¡¯re the one who made me feel that happiness was possible again. I realized that when I was-¡± His voice is tortured and he takes a step back, inhaling a shuddering breath.


    ¡°When you were about to kill me?¡± I supply, my voice filled with disgust. I turn around and unlock the door. ¡°If youe here again, I¡¯ll call the police.¡±


    ¡°Marisa, please!¡±


    I take great satisfaction with mming the door in his face. Then I crumple against the door, sobbing as I copse.

 3-27

    It feels like a bad breakup, except my brain is too full of shit to process anything. My head rings with the words he gave me before I mmed the door in his face. He loves me. What a fucking joke. He¡¯s either delusional or a liar.


    The TV res with an obnoxious cartoon that only serves to piss me off even more. I¡¯m still in a towering rage-most of it directed towards myself. I throw a beer bottle at the LCD screen and it cracks. Seizing my dad¡¯s portrait, I smash it against the marble countertop until ss shatters all over the floor. What else is there to break? It doesn¡¯t fucking matter. I¡¯m wealthy enough. I can always buy another one, and another one, and another one.


    I wear shoes throughout the house so that the broken ss doesn¡¯t cut into my feet, but I leave it all there, reveling in the destruction. I think of Nathan attending the next board meeting with a broken nose and heavily bandaged face, and a small snort echoes in the house. A secondter, I feel sickened with myself.


    All I can think is: Now what?


    What am I supposed to do with my life?


    Hours of flipping through channels through my broken TV screen and browsing the inte give me no answers. A rumbling sound distracts me from myptop screen. My phone blinks with a new text message. From Joe.


    I¡¯m seized with a desire to hurl the phone across the room, but curiosity wins over rage. I open the phone.


    Check the news.


    A cold feeling drips down my throat as I read his ominous message, and I check out CNN.


    Vition of contract ousts new CEO of Worlds Casino.


    What the fuck?


    I click on the article and read through it, my stomach violently churning as I read more and more. The reasons for me being kicked off thepany: erratic spending patterns, drunkenness, and drug use. All of them lies. Joe was right, Nathan falsified documents and had me kicked out. The whole board was probably bribed or threatened. My stomach clenches horribly.


    He¡¯s evil. He¡¯s a monster.


    My phone rings and I nce at the screen. Jessica. A rush of hatred builds inside me, and I snatch up the phone, ready to scream at her.


    ¡°Marisa,¡± her frightened voice garbles on the speaker. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry. I didn¡¯t know what he was going to do.¡±


    ¡°You sure as hell didn¡¯t try to stop him, did you?¡±


    ¡°I did. I voted against it.¡±


    The phone slips in my hand and a wave of relief pours over me. ¡°You did?¡±


    ¡°I never wanted it to go this far. This was a huge mistake. I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    I bite my lip hard. Don¡¯t cry. ¡°Thanks, Jess.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t even go to board meetings anymore. I met with that Ti guy in New Jersey with Nathan, and he scared the shit out of me. I don¡¯t want to be involved anymore.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s probably a good idea.¡±


    ¡°Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out, or something. Talk about all this.¡±


    I shake my head. ¡°No, I can¡¯t.¡± My house is in no shape and I can¡¯t talk about it. Not with her, at least. The sound of her disappointment makes me tear up. I haven¡¯t lost my sister after all.


    ¡°Okay. I just miss seeing everyone on Sundays, you know? Ever since Dad died¡­we haven¡¯t really done anything together.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, well. I¡¯ve been busy. I¡¯ve got to go,¡± I say in a tight voice.


    ¡°All right. Sorry, again. Bye.¡±


    The phone goes ck and I see other text messages from Joe, but I don¡¯t look at them. Nothing can help fill the emptiness inside me. That casino was my life, and now he¡¯s taken that from me. He stole it, and I can¡¯t even fight back. My fists tremble at that realization.


    What can I do?


    I look at the ck screen of my phone. The suffocating walls of my apartment. It was once a safe haven, now it feels like torture. I¡¯m tired of being in here, but beyond that-I¡¯m just really fucking pissed.


    I¡¯ll go to my brother¡¯s apartment, and I break whatever semnce of a nose he has left.


    I grab my purse on the counter and my jacket, shrugging it on as I leave my apartment and m the door shut. Fucking coward. It wasn¡¯t about my performance at all. No, he had to make all of that shit up to get me canned from my ownpany.


    I won¡¯t let him get away with this.


    The violent thoughts swirling in my head surprise me. I¡¯m not like this. I hate violence. It disturbs me. The murder I witnessed shook me to my very core, and I¡¯ve tossed in bed just thinking about it. The guilt swells in my chest every now and then, even though I know he was dangerous. It still felt wrong.


    Right now, though, I feel like a fight.


    A group of reporters chase me in the parking lot. A woman with a microphone follows me as I approach my car. How the hell did they even get in here? ¡°Ms. Toffoli, do you have anything to say about-¡±


    ¡°No!¡± I unlock the door and climb inside, their camera shes blinding my vision. It makes it hard to back up, let alone see where I¡¯m going. Eventually, my car parts through the crowd even though I¡¯m seized with a sick desire to mow them all down.


    Once I weave out of the traffic in Midtown and enter the bridge, I allow myself to scream. The car vibrates with the sound of my high-pitched voice. My throat tickles and I choke, and the harsh screams stop.


    Nope. Didn¡¯t work. I¡¯m still pissed.


    My hands shake as I recklessly park in front of Nathan¡¯s apartment, almost smashing into a car I vaguely recognize. My feet stomp up the stone steps, rage heating my limbs. I feel so much stronger, with all this blood pumping through my veins. I smash my fist into the door, hurting it. Then again, and again.


    ¡°Come out, you fucking coward!¡±


    I raise my leg and kick it hard. A strangledugh tears from my throat when ck scuff marks from my shoe smear on the door. I¡¯m there for at least five minutes, swearing at the door at the top of my voice, but nothing happens. A neighbor peeks out of her door to stare at me. I ignore her and jog back down the steps, almost bumping into a man standing on the street.


    Move out of the way, you fucking jerk.


    In a blind fury I grab one of the loose rocks sitting next to a tree and I bounce it in my hand. I hurl it at his window, and to my surprise it blows a fist-sized hole through. The ss splinters and cracks, and I bend over to seize another rock. There¡¯s a pair of shoes right beside them. My eyes travel up two legs covered in jeans and up to a trim waist and leather jacket, all the way to his jutting Adam¡¯s apple and sinful brown eyes, wrinkled in amusement.


    ¡°Never would have pegged you as a hooligan.¡±


    He stands in front of me as brazen as brass, even though I told him I never wanted to see him again. A leap of happiness soars in my stomach, but anguish drowns it almost immediately.


    ¡°Never would have pegged you as a murderer. Have you been following me?¡±


    That wipes the amusement from his eyes. ¡°Yeah. I knew you were probably very upset, so I wanted to keep an eye on you.¡±


    I haven¡¯t forgotten the confession he made the other day. That he loved me. There was a time when I would¡¯ve been overjoyed to hear something like that. Now?


    ¡°Did you forget that I never want to see you again?¡±


    He looks away and his face burns, as if I¡¯ve struck him. His hand grabs mine and suddenly I feel very tired. It¡¯sforting to feel his touch, and hating him is exhausting.


    ¡°No, I didn¡¯t forget.¡±


    Am I insane?


    Yes, you are.


    I slip my hand out of his grasp.


    ¡°Take a walk with me,¡± he urges. ¡°Before the fucking cops show up.¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡±


    His footsteps rush to catch up to me as I toss the rock aside and walk down the sidewalk at an extremely brisk pace.


    ¡°I¡¯m really sorry for everything in the papers.¡±


    I grit my teeth. ¡°What are you going to do? I have a brother who would rather see me smeared in the public than win the right to be President fairly.¡±


    ¡°Jamie is probably behind it. Jamie Ti. He¡¯s done shit like this.¡±


    That man in the restaurant with bullet holes. We stop at the street and I pound the crosswalk button. Joe leans on the streetlight pole leisurely, looking downright sexy as the wind ys with his hair and jacket. It hits me hard, and I suddenly feel morose. I¡¯m supposed to be furious with him.


    He takes my hand and I let him. God, I just want to be normal. Is that so much to ask? Hand in hand, we cross the street and enter a small park. I sit down on the first park bench I see and Joe sits beside me.


    ¡°What are you even doing here?¡±


    His arm extends over the park bench, his hand resting right behind my head. He brushes my hair with one finger, and I feel the light touch like a jolt of electricity. ¡°You¡¯re not getting rid of me that easily, Marisa. I meant what I said, and frankly, I don¡¯t feel okay with leaving you alone. I know you must be really upset.¡±


    Yeah, I am.


    The cold stings my eyes and they burn. I can¡¯t trust a word thates out of his mouth, as much as I want to.


    ¡°You were willing to put a bullet between my eyes a few days ago. I can¡¯t forgive that, I¡¯m sorry. I think I deserve someone better.¡±


    A light touch of my shoulder as he parts my hair sends a shudder down my body. God damn it. Heat travels to my chest from his fingertips. Clearly, my heart hasn¡¯t gotten the memo from my brain. This man is bad for me. I don¡¯t want him. I shouldn¡¯t.


    ¡°You do deserve someone better. Well, too bad, sweetheart. I got here first. I love you and I¡¯m not letting you go.¡± His fingers brush over mine as silence falls between us. I don¡¯t know what to say to him. Part of me is vehemently opposed. I want to fight him. The other, stronger part just wants to give in and let his words seep into my skin.


    His voice drops and bes more human. ¡°And I am really sorry for what I did. I hate myself for hurting you, but I miss you and I think you miss me, too.¡±


    Joe¡¯s facial hair is a little more stubbly than usual. There are more creases around his eyes, which look so goddamn sad. It¡¯s as if he didn¡¯t take care of himself for a few days. Then he slides closer without asking for permission. His warm hand anchors on my shoulder and pulls me against his broad chest, and I let him. His head bends and he kisses me, his arms wrapped around me as if he actually loves me. I feel something stirring in my chest for him, too. I can¡¯t fight it. I¡¯m so fucking exhausted.This is property ? of N?velDrama.Org.


    ¡°Kill Jamie Ti and we¡¯ll be square.¡±


    He¡¯s silent for a moment, and then he smiles mysteriously. ¡°Careful what you wish for.¡±


    I swallow hard. I hadn¡¯t really meant it. Did I?


    ¡°I¡¯m going to meet him.¡±


    Joe¡¯s eyes ze. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because he ndered my goddamn name. Maybe there¡¯s something I can do-something I can say that¡¯ll make him-¡±


    A finger trails down my cheek and I look into his pitying eyes. ¡°Honey, you can¡¯t make a man like him do anything.¡±


    I bristle at him. ¡°I¡¯m going to have a talk with him, regardless.¡±


    ¡°Stupid idea. You¡¯ll only get yourself hurt.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going.¡±


    It is a stupid idea, but my head is consumed with it. I can¡¯t just let him get away-I can¡¯t.


    ¡°I can¡¯t take this lying down, Joe.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t even know where he is!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I do. It¡¯s a restaurant filled with bullet holes in Newark.¡± I stand up from the bench, but he catches my arm and pulls me back down.


    His eyes narrow. ¡°I know the ce you¡¯re talking about. It¡¯s way too dangerous.¡±


    ¡°Well, I made it back from there in one piece.¡±


    Joe¡¯s face turns ugly. ¡°Only because they wanted you to.¡±


    ¡°Maybe I can get him to confess to something and record it on my iPhone.¡±


    He shakes his head angrily. ¡°Marisa, you¡¯re being an idiot. You will get killed.¡±


    Heat singes my throat. ¡°You don¡¯t fucking get it. You¡¯re just a mobster. What the fuck do you care about your reputation? This is my life. How am I ever supposed to get a job again with these usations? I can¡¯t just forget about it.¡±


    ¡°Then I¡¯ll go with you.¡±


    ¡°No-¡±


    His fingers bite into my arm and he gives me a deadly look. ¡°Marisa, I¡¯m not letting you go there alone. Don¡¯t test me.¡±


    I struggle with myself, consumed with the urge to deny him. Those brown eyes won¡¯t let me go. There¡¯s no denying them.


    ¡°Fine,¡± I utter finally, ¡°but we¡¯re taking my car. I¡¯ll drive.¡±


    Yes, I¡¯ll drive and he will have to just deal with it.


    Joe clenches his teeth and simmers. ¡°Fine.¡±


    Seized with a surge of energy, I stand up from the bench. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±


    ¡°Now?¡±


    ¡°When the hell did you think we would go?¡±


    Joe scowls at me and walks by my side. ¡°There has to be a way I can change your mind about this.¡±


    My nostrils re. ¡°Nope. Not going to happen.¡±


    My feet kick through the leaves scattered in the park. Grey clouds are broken by tree branches overhead, and I see the road, slightly reflective with rain. I¡¯m not dressed for the rain, but I don¡¯t care. Without even looking, I step into the street and a hand pulls me back. Joe¡¯s voice yells in my ear, swearing loudly as a car barrels down the road.


    ¡°Fuck you!¡±


    The driver¡¯s insult rings in my ears. The close brush with death rolls right off my shoulders like the rain. The car speeds down the street and disappears. Joe keeps me mped to his side, his grip painful on my arm.


    ¡°Jesus, Marisa!¡±


    I yank my arm out of his grasp without a thank you. Suddenly, my anger¡¯s back in full force. Fuck him for pretending to care. I don¡¯t care what he says. I can¡¯t forgive him for what he did.


    He didn¡¯t have a choice.


    Fuck that, too.


    The rain pelts my head as we cross the street, Joe¡¯s hands deep inside his jacket pockets as he walks. He looks deep in thought, his face pinched in a worried expression.


    Rain stters all over my hair, chilling my skin. It soaks through my thin cotton long-sleeve and I shiver slightly. I unlock my car and we get in, Joe settling in the passenger¡¯s seat.


    I sit there for a moment, my wet hair dripping onto my forehead. The cold drops run down my face like tears. I turn the key in the ignition and haul ass out of Brooklyn.


    Joe shoots me unhappy looks as I drive. His mood spreads over me like an oppressive fog and I clench my teeth.


    The rain makes New York¡¯s streets slimy. It¡¯s as if it¡¯s purging all the filth from the city, washing away all the exhaust and the cigarettes littered everywhere, but I don¡¯t feel purged. I feel rotten. The anger coursing through my veins is like poison. When we pass Jersey City, Joe shifts in his seat and takes out his gun, checking the chambers.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    ¡°Making sure everything is in order. If I had known we were going there, I would have brought a different gun.¡±


    A leap of anxiety settles in my chest. ¡°I really don¡¯t think that¡¯ll be necessary.¡±


    The car is silent for a moment except for the pattering of rain.


    ¡°You have no idea who you¡¯re dealing with.¡±


    I give him an angry look. ¡°Yes, I do. If he¡¯s a businessman, he¡¯ll listen to sense.¡±


    ¡°And if he doesn¡¯t?¡±


    I shrug. ¡°I¡¯ll go to the police.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    The pitch of his voice rms me. ¡°They ruined my reputation, Joe. What do you expect me to do?¡±


    ¡°That is not an option,¡± he says in a dark voice.


    ¡°You don¡¯t get to tell me what to do, not after what you did.¡±


    ¡°Marisa, be smart! They will kill you if you go to the police. I can guarantee you that.¡±


    ¡°But-¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t expose them without exposing us, and then you¡¯ll have both families after you. You won¡¯t stand a chance.¡±


    ¡°This isn¡¯t fucking fair!¡± I pound the steering wheel and feel a rush of tears behind my eyes. ¡°This is my life.¡±


    If what he says is true, I can¡¯t possibly go to the police. No matter how angry I am, I don¡¯t have a death wish.


    So I¡¯m supposed to be seen as a drunken moron who spent tens of thousands of her daddy¡¯spany irresponsibly?


    His hand snakes over myp and gently touches my thigh. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    In tears, I look at him. Why does he even care? ¡°Why are you doing this? Why do you care about what happens to me?¡±


    ¡°You helped me more than you know.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t do anything for you. You haven¡¯t told me one reason why you think you love me.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think,¡± he says in a voice with an edge. ¡°I know.¡± Then a smile twitches on his face. ¡°I love you because you¡¯re fun to be around, because you make meugh. I love you because you changed my life. I don¡¯t feel like I¡¯m drowning anymore.¡±


    Tears prick the corners of my eyes, and I suck in my lip biting it to keep from trembling. I take the hand resting on my thigh.


    ¡°Believe me¡­I care about you more than I care about myself. That¡¯s why I¡¯m going with you on this fucking thing.¡±


    Air somehow returns to my lungs. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re at war with Carmine¡¯s outfit. I¡¯ll be lucky if they don¡¯t shoot me on sight.¡±


    Suddenly I realize the consequences of Joe being so far away from New York, with no back up. If he got shot because of me-a sick feeling rises in my chest-I¡¯d feel horrible.


    ¡°Maybe you shouldn¡¯te.¡±


    ¡°I shouldn¡¯t, but I will.¡±


    And nothing I say will stop him. He gives me a beady look, and I realize he¡¯s determined to follow me right into gunfire if that¡¯s what it takes.


    I can¡¯t really describe how that makes me feel.


    Joe tenses when we drive into Newark, his eyes scanning the crumbling streets as if he expects to get shot. It¡¯s not hard to find the restaurant. Joe swears under his breath when we drive past it.


    ¡°If they¡¯ve been here the whole fucking time, I¡¯llugh.¡±


    I park a few blocks away from the restaurant and we get out. His head whips down the streets.


    ¡°Listen, maybe you should let me do the talking. In my world, it¡¯s unusual for a woman to seek out an underboss like this.¡±


    Sexist pricks.


    ¡°I¡¯ve talked to him before, remember?¡± I say to his wide-eyed face. ¡°It¡¯ll be okay.¡±


    My guts churn as we walk closer to the restaurant, Joe gripping the gun inside his jacket. I notice that there are actual beads of sweat on the side of his face. I¡¯ve never seen him look like this. He¡¯s actually scared.


    There¡¯s no guard outside the restaurant. Joe grabs my arm, his hand like ice. I wince and open the door towards me, stepping inside the dpidated restaurant. The tiles slide under my feet and the walls are still a fucking mess, the ster ripped with bullet holes. Joe swallows hard beside me.


    ¡°Jesus Christ. So this is where it all went down.¡±


    His voice echoes in the deserted ce.


    I wonder if I imagined it all. Were the men who abducted me ghosts? Did they materialize out of thin air? I don¡¯t feel ashamed to hold Joe¡¯s hand, not when so much violence happened here.


    Why the fuck am I here?


    ¡°Who the fuck are you?¡±


    I¡¯m shoved to the side as Joe whips out his gun, aiming it toward the voice. I hunch down as Joe stretches his arm, his jaw clenched. ¡°We¡¯re here to talk to Jamie Ti!¡±


    ¡°Put your fucking gun down, asshole. The boss don¡¯t hang around here.¡±


    The man approaches Joe, hugging the side of the restaurant. He points a gun at his face.


    I stand up warily. ¡°This was where I met him.¡±


    ¡°I know you. You¡¯re that fucking asshole who killed Frank.¡±


    It was such a bad idea toe here. ¡°You need to call your boss and tell him toe here. Tell him one of the board members of Worlds Casino wants to talk with him.¡±


    He moves closer in the light, still pointing a gun at Joe. He¡¯s a slim, balding man with round, ck sses. His overge ears make me think of bats as he slips his hand into his jacket and pulls out his cell.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± he asks me.


    ¡°I-I¡¯m Ms. Toffoli. I met him here.¡±


    He gives me a Cheshire cat-like grin. ¡°I don¡¯t know who the fuck you are, but I know the boss wants to get his hands on him.¡±


    The men move around each other carefully. They both jump when I back into a wooden table and Joe looks away, swearing. ¡°I just came here to talk.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t give a fuck why you came here. You¡¯re here.¡±


    Fuck.


    Joe gives me an anxious look as the man opens his phone. We wait for a few tense minutes for Jamie and his men to arrive. They walk in like overweight rats, filthy and beady-eyed except for Jamie, who looks like a suave businessman. The ck suit he wears makes his pale skin shine, and his grey hair is slicked back. He gives us a grin very much like the man who holds the gun against Joe¡¯s temple.


    ¡°You¡¯re outnumbered. Drop the gun.¡±


    Oh, God. What have I done?


    I force my voice into an even tone. ¡°Mr. Ti, this is unnecessary. I only came here to talk to you about your recent-ah-acquisition of mypany.¡±


    ¡°Why is he here, then?¡±


    I nce at Joe. ¡°Frankly, after what happenedst time, I didn¡¯t feel safeing here alone.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think there¡¯s much to talk about. The sale will go through, Ms. Toffoli. There¡¯s nothing you can do to change my mind.¡±


    ¡°How about the fact that I could go to the police and tell them that you intimidated my shareholders and convened an illegal board meeting without me present. All decisions made during that illegal meeting are irrelevant, because I wasn¡¯t there. Do you still think there¡¯s nothing to talk about?¡±


    The men around him instantly tense and Joe gives me a furious look, but Jamie¡¯s smirk widens.


    ¡°All right. Guys, would you give us some privacy? Put the gun down, Georgie.¡±


    Blood seems to melt from my face as they lower their guns. Joe tucks it back in his waistband, looking nervous but relieved. Somehow, my limbs unfreeze and I walk towards a booth. I slide into the red vinyl and Joe¡¯s warmth joins me. He touches my leg gently and gives me a warning squeeze.


    Remember who you¡¯re dealing with.


    I¡¯m on the precipice of life and death with this guy. He doesn¡¯t strike me as someone who can be conned, threatened, or manipted. Maybe he¡¯s still willing to listen to reason. I¡¯ve already epted that it was a terrible mistakeing here, but I¡¯m determined to make something out of it. I can do this.


    Jamie pats himself down as he sinks into the chair across the table. His fine eyebrows narrow.


    ¡°Just so you know, Ms. Toffoli, I don¡¯t respond well to threats.¡±


    Oh, go fuck yourself.


    ¡°Neither do I.¡±


    ¡°Give me one good reason why I shouldn¡¯t kill you both.¡±


    My back straightens and a chill creeps up my spine. I wonder why I¡¯m not more afraid; he certainly has the ability to kill me. Maybe my body is keeping myself calm out of self-preservation.


    ¡°Look, I just want you to make a statement retracting the ims you made against me. You do that, and I won¡¯t go to the cops.¡±


    ¡°Why do you even care? Do you know how much money you¡¯re going to get from those shares?¡±


    ¡°I could give a shit about the money. You¡¯ve ruined my reputation. I¡¯ll never be able to get a job again.¡±


    Harsh fingers pinch my leg. I throw Joe an irritated look.


    Jamie nods sagely and leans in. ¡°How about this? You get the fuck out of my restaurant before I kill both of you. You¡¯re in no position to bargain with me.¡±


    My shoulder wrenches as Joe yanks me to my feet. ¡°We will.¡±


    ¡°It was a mistakeing here, Ms. Toffoli. You better watch your back from now on.¡± Heughs at my nched face, and turns towards Joe. ¡°And you. Consider yourself lucky that it¡¯s the middle of the day, and we¡¯re in a public ce. You¡¯re a dead man.¡±


    ¡°Maybe I won¡¯t go to the cops-¡±


    ¡°Dammit, Marisa, be quiet-¡±


    ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll go to Forbes magazine and give them my side of the story. You don¡¯t think I can¡¯t do damage to you? You¡¯re wrong.¡±


    Joe¡¯s grip around my shoulders is bruising. ¡°Shut the fuck up!¡±


    The underboss stands from the table, his features thickened with rage. ¡°You should leave while you still can.¡±


    We¡¯re already halfway out the door before thest words falls from his lips. Joe shoves me as soon as we enter the rainy outdoors. ¡°What the fuck were you thinking? You¡¯re going to get us both killed!¡±


    My heart pounds as I stumble from his shove, my shoes slipping in the rain. I feel like I¡¯m going to burst. All of it¡¯s so goddamn unfair. ¡°I was trying to save our asses by giving him something to fear from us. Also, yeah, it matters to me that the whole world thinks I¡¯m some kind of drunken embezzler!¡±


    ¡°Why the fuck would you antagonize him like that? Oh, what the fuck-let¡¯s just get the hell out of here before I get shot.¡±


    He grips my arm and pulls me down the street. Anger rustles in my chest when he grabs the keys from my hand and opens the passenger side door. Fucking control freak. I slide into the seat and re at him as he takes the driver¡¯s side.


    Joe yanks on the parking brake and we peel out of there. ¡°Do you want to tell me what you were trying to achieve there? Because you just royally pissed him off, and now he¡¯s out for blood. You do realize that, right?¡±


    I clench my hands into fists. How can he not see this as a victory?


    ¡°Now he has something to fear from me, and that¡¯s leagues better than being someone who can get screwed over whenever he decides.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Marisa.¡±


    He looks out the window despondently.


    I don¡¯t know either. I¡¯m not sure of anything, except that allowing them to fuck with me was too much for me to handle. We drive back to Brooklyn and my nerves settle down like a pot of boiling water. The danger recedes and I feel removed from it all, back in the safety of New York. Joe parks the car and closes his eyes as if he¡¯s had a long day.


    He unbuckles himself and turns towards me, his brown eyes unsure. My chest swells as he leans forward, his cologne breezing around his neck as he kisses my cheek. It¡¯s like a hot seal against my skin, and a fluttering rises in my stomach. Then it disappears, the cold pricking my skin as he pulls away and puts his hand on the door.


    My hand catches his before he slides out of the car.


    ¡°Thank you foring with me.¡±


    A small smile cracks over his face and he raises my hand to his lips, kissing it.

 3-28

    JOE


    I eye the smashed TV screen suspiciously. A crack splits through the brilliant disy of a blue genie dancing across the screen.


    Marisa shrugs at me. ¡°I was angry.¡±


    We¡¯re holed up in her apartment, which is a lot nicer than mine. She has coasters on her coffee table, for Christ¡¯s sake. I don¡¯t know anyone who uses them. I¡¯ve watched enough Disney movies in the past few hours to make me want to scream, but they make her happy. I haven¡¯t seen her smile in a long time, and just seeing herugh makes me feel good.


    It¡¯s been hell, dealing with Jack and the others. First, I almost got killed when I told them I didn¡¯t take care of her. Then I had to shirk my duties to watch over her, and Vince showed up at her apartment, all pissed off.


    ¡°What the fuck are you still doing here?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not letting her go through this alone.¡±


    Vince looked at me with a half-frustrated, half-amused look. ¡°This is my fucking fault for telling you that story about my wife.¡±


    Yeah, probably.


    ¡°Can you at least tell me where her brother is?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure he¡¯s in hiding.¡±


    I refused to go to the deli. Jack wanted to talk. Fuck Jack. He wanted me to kill someone who was innocent. I won¡¯t apologize for what I did. I don¡¯t regret it. Whatever, they can get someone else to do their fucking collections. One thing I know for sure-I¡¯m done doing that shit.


    Marisa finally turns off the movie and leaves the TV on the news. I heave a sigh of relief and she gives me a guilty smile. The couch makes a creaking sound as she crawls onto myp. My heart squeezes and releases when her face nestles in my neck. When I question myself and wonder if I¡¯m losing my goddamn mind to be risking so much for her, all I have to do is remind myself of this feeling. I love holding her, touching her soft skin, feeling her warm breath on my neck.


    Why? Why her?


    She got under my skin from the beginning, when she looked at me with those deep blue eyes, which were swimming in tears at the funeral. I felt a connection with her. And then I got to know her. Couldn¡¯t get enough of her body. The sex was always hot as hell, and having her trapped at my apartment for a week was like a fantasye to life. Having her whenever I wanted: in the shower, on the kitchen table, handcuffed to my bed. She wanted me just as badly as I wanted her.


    Then when Jack told me what needed to be done, I felt like my life was over. That¡¯s when I knew I loved her, because I never cared so much for another girl. I couldn¡¯t stand her being hurt. Even now, it makes my throat close into a pin-sized hole.


    She¡¯s got me wrapped around her little finger, but I don¡¯t dare let her know that.


    ¡°I wish we could leave this apartment.¡±


    ¡°We can if you want.¡±


    Marisa shakes her head. I don¡¯t me her for not wanting to leave. A horde of paparazzi camp outside her apartment every day, waiting for her toe out so they can ask shitty questions like whether it¡¯s true if she snorted lines of coke on her father¡¯s desk.


    ¡°Where would you go, if you could go anywhere?¡±


    ¡°The zoo-or maybe Papabubble. It¡¯s a candy store.¡±


    My skin shivers when her lips move over my neck. She shifts herself on myp and I stifle a groan, feeling my cocking to life. Her hands smooth my chest, and I take her gorgeous head in my hands. I want to feel her lips against mine. I want to swallow every moan she makes, but she looks troubled.


    ¡°There¡¯s something that¡¯s still bothering me,¡± she admits. Her eyes tremble as she meets my gaze. ¡°All of this-dating me and sleeping with me, was it just to get close to me? So you could have more control over me?¡±


    She flinches from the anger burning in my eyes. ¡°Sorry-¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t fuck women because someone tells me too,¡± I hiss, angrily. ¡°Yeah, I wanted to get close to you. I wanted to fuck you the moment I met you, and it wasn¡¯t because you owned a casino.¡±


    ¡°All right, I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    Marisa¡¯s cheeks are pink, just like they always are whenever I whisper filthy things in her ears. Still angry, my hands lift her shirt and she raises her arms. Her shirt flies off and her unmarked, beautiful skin shines under the light. I reach around her back and she leans into me, her soft hair against the side of my face. A quick swipe of my hand, and her bra falls down her arms, exposing her perfect tits. Her chest blushes as I grab one of her creamy-white tits to squeeze. Marisa¡¯s lips part as she sucks in breath.


    ¡°You are right about one thing, though. I wanted control over you.¡±


    Her eyshes flutter right before I pin her against the couch. I kiss her pretty little mouth, anxious to see how it would look wrapped around my cock, which protests against the stiff fabric of my jeans. My tongue slides in between her yielding lips and with my hands, I tug her jeans down her legs. Fucking skinny jeans. They¡¯re always so hard to take off.


    I bite her lip and grab both legs of her jeans, yanking them off finally. She sits up, and the way she nts her hands on the couch makes her tits stick out.


    Control.


    I sit down next to her and grab a handful of her blonde hair, pulling her across myp until my hand grazes over herce panties. My finger trails down her spine, my palm smoothing her silky skin. I stop just above the two globes. The bluece panties are semi-transparent. My mouth waters as I grab ahold of her ass and squeeze.


    God-fucking-dammit.


    I pull the panties down and stroke her smooth skin. It¡¯s been way too long. The need to mark her as mine rises inside me. My blood churns inside my own head as I raise my hand and spank that soft ass. Her legs twitch and she lets out a small yelp. I smooth the red burn that blossoms and then I spank her again. The sound cuts through the air. My hand tingles as it connects with her body, her ass a rosy, pink color. Each time, her back quivers, she gasps, and blood rushes to her skin. The shape of my hand burns on the warm, quivering round flesh. I smooth my hand over the mark.N?velDrama.Org (C) content.


    This was what I wanted from her. I wanted the rich, uptight girl naked across myp, begging for my cock. A spasm of anger moves through my limbs, and I clench my fist over her raw skin. It bothers me that she thought I would fuck her onmand, as if I¡¯m some kind of robot.


    Without preamble, I unbuckle my belt and she turns her head around at the noise. She moans when she catches a glimpse of the leather strip.


    ¡°No, please.¡±


    I lean over her until my cock digs into her ass and she winces at my weight pinning her down. ¡°Are you the one in charge? Did I imagine it when you said you wanted me to takeplete control?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    I barely catch her response. ¡°I can¡¯t fucking hear you.¡±


    She frowns. ¡°No.¡± More resolute.


    ¡°That¡¯s right. So keep that pretty mouth shut while I punish you for suggesting that I¡¯m some kind of man whore.¡±


    THWACK!


    The leather belt snaps on her beautiful ass, an angry red streak searing across her backside almost immediately. She yelps loudly and squirms under me. My lowugh washes over her ears and she aims a look that could kill in my direction.


    Insolence.


    SMACK!


    Another scream lifts to my ears as the beltnds on her other cheek. I¡¯m really not hitting her that hard, but I rub the spot to soothe her anyway.


    A smile twitches on my face. ¡°What do you have to say for yourself?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    My hand gouges her raw ass. ¡°Do you mean it?¡±


    ¡°Yes! I¡¯m sorry!¡±


    ¡°All right.¡±


    I pull her up so that she sits on myp and wrap my arms around her, kissing her red face until she sighs with relief. My cock stirs as her tits rustle against my chest and I feel a sudden, overwhelming need to take her into her bedroom and fuck her senseless.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Joe.¡±


    She wraps her legs around my waist and I stand up with her in my arms. She wears a thoughtful expression that confuses me. The wall groans as I pin her back against it. Marisa makes a small ¡°oh!¡± as her back hits the wall. Heavily lidded eyes look at me. It¡¯s like a fire zing inside my chest when she looks at me with desire smoldering in her eyes.


    There was always a barrier with other women. One girl was never enough, but she wants me just as often as I want her. It¡¯s more than that, though. I actually-I get nervous when I¡¯m around her. That¡¯s never happened before.


    I never gave a fuck about what anyone thought of me before. My heart hammers like I¡¯ve just taken a hit when she tugs my tie. It beats faster and faster, like a loud drum in my head when her lips burn against mine. Then this strange, weak feeling spreads through my limbs. It¡¯s like booze-warm and dizzying, but immensely satisfying.


    Damn it, I love her. I don¡¯t know why, I just feel so fucking weak when I¡¯m around her.


    My hands run over her thighs as her fingers loosen my tie and shirt. She pulls back and wets her lips, looking just as dazed as I feel. Then I one-handedly yank my trousers down and my cock bounces free, a bead of precum glistening on the head.


    ¡°Fuck me.¡±


    She breathes into my neck and blood rushes to my brain. I lift her up and guide my cock into her pussy, which slides around the head. A shudder runs up my legs as I slowly push into her. Marisa gasps, the sound like adrenaline through my veins as she wraps her arms around my head. I feel her pussy widening for me as my cock slides into her. I m into her, gripping her waist as my face is buried in her tits. I grab a mouthful and bite down. She lets out a long hiss that ends in a yelp when my cock stabs into her.


    Her warmth glides all around me, squeezing my length as I pulse inside her. Pleasure spikes into my brain and the urge to fuck her harder focuses into one solitary purpose: to fill her with my cum. My mouth kisses her beautiful, soft skin. Those amazing tits. I grab the other, tongue swirling around her slightly salty skin, sucking down hard as she throws back her head and moans. Then I kiss her throat, and she grunts with every thrust.


    I fuck her so hard she screams, her voice lifting and echoing. ¡°Joe! Joe!¡± It¡¯s a frantic chant that makes my blood pressure rise. My arm is a vice around her waist and I bend my legs, thrusting so hard I can feel her body shake. It feels so amazing. I m her back against the wall with the force of my legs. Then I gather her in my arms, bringing her into her bedroom.


    She falls onto the bed and I pull out of her, her back a red color. I climb up behind her as she rests on all fours, pussy glistening. Her knees tuck inside mine as I grab her waist and guide my cock inside. The warm wetness swallows me once against, deeper than before. She lets out high-pitched yells as my cock digs into her. My hips m against her bouncing ass and my hand rips over her cheek, the beautiful pink color rising to her skin again. I lean forward grabbing her tits which sway in my rhythm. I spank her again and fresh moans lift to my ears.


    She sways her hips to meet mine, and I lean on her back. Her body falls on the bed, and I rip off my shirt and tie, mming into that gorgeous ass. The pressure builds around my cock and she squeezes me. I slide my hand under her chest and grab one of her tits. Everything inside me screams to fuck her faster. She feels amazing and my balls tingle with a sensation that means my orgasm is imminent. Then I let out a growl as my cock twitches inside her. I ram it home ande hard, my hips jerking into her. I kiss her slightly damp shoulder, alternating between affectionate kisses and hard, passionate bites. Pleasure spreads all over my limbs in a warm glow like sunbathing.


    ¡°I love you, Marisa.¡±


    I whisper it into her ear and she turns around, eyes zing. She kisses me long and hard, but doesn¡¯t say it back. My heart clenches as a painful sting eats away at it. I can¡¯t expect her to feel the same way after what happened.


    Then the door in the hallway rattles and shakes. An angry voice shouts behind it. We both jump in the bed.


    I sit up, heart thumping sluggishly as I quickly find my clothes and pull them on. I look at her lying on her bed, her eyes wide. ¡°I¡¯ll get the door.¡±


    ¡°Answer the fucking door!¡±


    I recognize that angry voice and hastily shove on my cks. Marisa wraps a robe around herself as I walk to the door and open it.


    An irritated Vince walks inside without an invitation, wearing a navy suit. He nces at Marisa briefly and turns back to me. ¡°You don¡¯t answer your fucking phone now?¡±


    ¡°Ah-I was busy.¡±


    Vince looks at my haggard appearance and Marisa¡¯s state of undress, and a smile cracks over his face. ¡°Oh.¡± His eyes glint mischievously


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I say, eyes narrowing.


    Can you fucking leave, now?


    A moment freezes between us, and then he sighs, the amusement disappearing from his face. ¡°I have some bad news. The feds just raided Worlds Casino.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    Marisa stares at us down the hall, her eyes wide.


    He ignores her, ck eyes zeroing on me. ¡°I need to know if she¡¯s been talking to the feds.¡±


    ¡°No way!¡± I bristle. ¡°I¡¯ve been watching her,¡± I say in an undertone.


    She runs to the living room and we follow her. The TV still res with the news. I¡¯m surprised we didn¡¯t hear anything. On the cracked screen, a bold headline with a marquee runs:


    CROOKED CASINO: BOARD MEMBERS, MOBSTERS INDICTED IN CHARGES OF BRIBERY & EXTORTION


    A high gasp escapes from Marisa and she ps her hands over her mouth, sinking into the couch. Images of board members arrested from their homes scroll across the screen as a reporter lists a series of names that include several of Jamie Ti¡¯s men. Hair rises at the back of my neck and Vince gives me a significant look.


    ¡°Someone talked to the feds.¡± He aims the statement towards Marisa, who looks at him with daggers in her eyes.


    ¡°Fuck you. I¡¯ve been with him this whole time.¡±


    Jesus.


    I look at him nervously, but he takes it in stride.


    ¡°This is not good, Marisa.¡±


    I grab Vince¡¯s arm, anger searing my chest. ¡°It¡¯s not her fault.¡±


    ¡°Someone talked, and if you ask me, she¡¯s the most likely suspect.¡±


    She stands up slowly from the couch and seethes. ¡°I didn¡¯t say you coulde into my house. Get out.¡±


    I walk to her, my nerves zing, and curl an arm around her waist. Her body feels stiff in my embrace. ¡°C¡¯mon, baby. He¡¯s just trying to help.¡±


    Vincent crosses his arms and smirks. ¡°You need to listen to your boyfriend and shut up. We need to figure out now how much these assholes know. They¡¯re probably going to try to talk to her soon, if they haven¡¯t already.¡±


    Another fierce knock rattles the door, and Marisa¡¯s face pales. All of us freeze in the living room and I don¡¯t think we draw breath.


    ¡°FBI! Open the door!¡±


    ¡°Fuck.¡±


    He clenches his jaw. ¡°We shouldn¡¯t been seen with her. Goddamn it.¡±


    Marisa runs to her bedroom and she pulls on clothes rapidly, motioning me towards the closet. ¡°Maybe you should hide, or something!¡±


    A smile somehow jumps on my face and I look round at Vince, who slinks into the kitchen, out of sight. ¡°Yeah, all right.¡±


    She dashes out and I hear the door creak open. ¡°What do you want?¡±


    Shit. That tone.


    ¡°Ms. Toffoli, we¡¯d like to ask you a few questions. Is it all right if wee inside?¡±


    No. No. Say, ¡®no.¡¯


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Then we¡¯ll need you toe in for questioning.¡±


    ¡°All right. When?¡±


    ¡°Now.¡±


    She sighs impatiently. ¡°Well, fine. Let me get my things.¡±


    The door shuts in the face of the FBI agents and she returns to the bedroom, pale and shaking. I grasp her arms as she makes a whimpering sound. ¡°It¡¯ll be all right, sweetheart. Don¡¯t worry. Just don¡¯t say anything about us or Jamie Ti.¡±


    ¡°Even about him? Why not?¡±


    My chest strains. ¡°You can¡¯t do it. We never talk to the cops about our enemies, just trust me on this.¡±


    Her eyes look doubtful. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Promise me.¡±


    The grittiness in my voice makes her look up. ¡°Okay.¡±


    I stroke her cheek, hating that she has to go through this. ¡°I¡¯ll be here, okay? I¡¯ll wait for you.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡± Her eyes brim with tears as she gives me a quick kiss, and then she dashes out of the room, grabbing her purse. I duck back inside as she opens the door, and then it ms shut.


    I step outside, already feeling the emptiness of her not being around, like a trail of smoke. Vince¡¯s ominous figure stands in the low light of the living room.


    His voice booms out like a premonition of doom.


    ¡°We need to talk.¡±

 3-29

    MARISA


    I wipe my face in the back of the squad car, feeling like a prisoner as they drive me to wherever the hell they¡¯re going to interrogate me. Mypany¡¯s in ruins, and now I might be in trouble. Joe says I can¡¯t tell them anything. Nothing to save myself.


    Could it get any fucking worse?


    I think I probably know who talked to the feds. It was probably Jessica, but there was no way I was going to mention that to them. She probably thought she was doing something good for me.


    Fuck.


    They bring me into a white-walled room, with a giant, two-way mirror. I assume that there are people standing behind it, watching us. Watching me.


    The white walls resemble a block of ice and my back shivers as I pull out one of the ufortable metal seats. Three federal agents, a woman and two men, sit down in front of me. The balding, older man with straight, dark eyebrows stares at me and extends a cold hand.


    ¡°Ms. Toffoli, I¡¯m Agent Eric Palmer and these are my colleagues: Agents Gonzalez and Brown.¡±


    I shake the hand limply, holding in my breath. I manage a sort of frightened squeak.


    ¡°I¡¯d like to express my condolences on the death of your father. It mustn¡¯t have been easy, taking over from him.¡±


    Agent Palmer gives me a piercing look that¡¯s at odds with his words.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t.¡±


    A judgmental tone creeps into his voice. ¡°Especially when you had to deal with mobsters from Jersey and New York City.¡±


    He strikes out at me like a snake, sinking his teeth in deep. Heat immediately rushes to my face and Agent Palmer wears a satisfied smile. Fuck, I¡¯ve just confirmed what he was thinking. I clench my hands on the table.


    ¡°I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. I bet you don¡¯t.¡±


    He opens a folder in front of him and spreads a series of photographs of me with Joey. In some of them, we¡¯re holding hands. A slow burn starts from the base of my neck and spreads to the tips of my ears.


    ¡°Do you know this man?¡± He taps the photos.


    I shrug.


    ¡°He¡¯s a known gang associate of the Vittorio Crime Family. Ms. Toffoli, we¡¯ve seen him at the casino. We know Jack Vittorio was involved in Worlds Casino.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t-I don¡¯t know anything-¡±


    ¡°How did you think we were able to bust all those mobsters in New Jersey? Your dad cooperated with us.¡±


    I forget about my n the moment he mentions my dad. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°We were going to make a deal with him. Information in exchange for a lesser sentence. The IRS audited your casino months ago.¡±


    No. Oh, no.


    ¡°We need your cooperation, Ms. Toffoli. We began investigating your father over a year ago when a known associate of the Rizzo Crime Family in Jersey who worked at your casino became a murder suspect. We know they¡¯ve been involved in moneyundering operations in your VIP rooms, and we know New York is involved as well. We can offer you protection.¡±


    Fear fills my stomach like acidic soda, prickling and tearing at my insides. The whole thing is unraveled. I¡¯m fucked.


    ¡°You¡¯re in over your head and you need our help.¡±


    Maybe he¡¯s right. Whatever they drum up in their investigation will screw me over. The IRS already audited Dad. Oh, God. This is a fucking nightmare. Everything I was afraid of already happened a year ago.


    Pressure builds up behind my eyes until I¡¯m sure my skull will crack. My hands shake and tears squeeze out of my eyes. What should I do?


    Joe¡¯s face swims in my mind.


    Don¡¯t say anything about us.


    Or what?


    Someone shoves a box toward me and I grab the white tissue. I bury my face into the paper and it soaks up my tears, turning it into a sodden mess in seconds. If they audited Dad, wouldn¡¯t they have arrested Jack and the others already?


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry!¡± I gasp. ¡°I won¡¯t help you.¡±


    Agent Palmer leans forward, his nd tie dragging over the desk. ¡°Marisa, these people are monsters. They¡¯ll kill you the moment they believe you¡¯ve talked to the FBI. You need us.¡±


    ¡°What did you give my sister? Did you protect her?¡±


    He sits back, looking annoyed. ¡°She only gave us a tip. She never negotiated any kind of deal with us.¡±


    I stare at him in shock. Aren¡¯t they supposed to help people in danger? What chance does my sister have now that she talked to the feds and gave up who knows how many people? That fucker took her information and didn¡¯t give a shit about what would happen to her.


    ¡°She¡¯s not safe!¡±


    The expressions on their faces say it all, really. They don¡¯t care about my sister because she has nothing to offer them.


    They¡¯re just as bad as the mob.


    ¡°You fucking bastards.¡± I stand up from the table, legs shaking as I walk away from them, and pound the door. ¡°Let me out!¡±


    I¡¯ve got to save her.


    They drop me like an abandoned dog on some street in Manhattan. I stand in a whirlwind of people bumping into me as some guy in a khaki trench coat pushes me out into the street. Then I¡¯m left standing in the middle of the sidewalk as the car drives away, and I try to process what just happened.


    The IRS audited Worlds Casino and found multiple ounts of tax fraud, and gave Dad some kind of deal which probably lessened the jail time he would get, in exchange for ratting out the New Jersey mafia. They¡¯re probably rifling through all the documents in my office right now, and they¡¯ll find Jack Vittorio¡¯s fronts, and then Jack will be furious.


    Basically, I¡¯m screwed.


    Along with my annoying, self-absorbed sister, who in a weak moment of guilt signed her own death warrant. Along with mine. And Nathan¡¯s. He must be furious.


    I head for the subway at once and call Jessica¡¯s phone. No answer. I dial again and again. Nothing. Shit.


    ¡°Pick up your phone!¡±


    The subway rattles slowly to Lower East Side, where Jess lives. I hug my knees on the subway and try not to imagine her lifeless body on her hardwood floors. They could kill her easily.


    Joe¡¯s emotionless face and the callous way he wiped his face of blood burns in my mind. My hands shake as I call him.


    He picks up on the first ring.


    ¡°Where are you?¡±


    ¡°On the subway. I¡¯m heading to my sister¡¯s. She¡¯s not safe, Joe.¡±


    His voice is cross. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have left without me. I¡¯m on my way, now.¡± The sound of him moving through the apartment crackles through the speaker. ¡°Why do you think she¡¯s in danger?¡±


    I bite my lip, eyes watering in the bright lights. ¡°Is Vincent still there?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°She told them, Joe. She told the feds about Jamie and my brother. My dad¡¯s been under investigation for a while.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t say anymore. We¡¯ll talk when I get there.¡±


    A thick wall blocks my voice. ¡°Please hurry.¡±


    The phone dies and I slide it back inside my purse, my eyes anxiously watching the subway map. Next stop. The doors hiss open and I bolt outside, taking the stairs two at a time. The streets roar with a cacophony of traffic and honking. It¡¯s chaos, like the noise in my brain. I feel like I¡¯m screaming as I sprint across the streets because everything is wrong. The moment Dad died, everything went to hell.


    Please be okay. Please.


    I make a silent prayer to my sister¡¯s brownstone as I leap up the steps, my lungs burning. I hammer my fist on the paned ss and shortly a rippling figure approaches me. It¡¯s much toorge and my heart squeezes painfully.


    The door flies open and Nathan stands in the doorway. The bruises are healed, but there¡¯s still a bandage over his nose.


    ¡°Who is it?¡± Jessica¡¯s voice calls out from the living room.


    ¡°Jessica! Are you all right?¡±


    Nathan snarls and tries to m the door in my face, but I throw my leg inside and wince as the heavy wood crushes my leg.


    ¡°Let her inside!¡±


    Jessica appears next to him, frowning. The mascara runs down her face in ck rivers as Nathan steps away with a ck look of disgust.


    ¡°Why are you here?¡± I ask, shoving my way inside.


    I m the door and lock it. Immediately after doing it, I regret it. Thest time Nathan and I were together, Joe was beating the shit out of him. I¡¯m alone now. His face twists with a malicious smile.


    ¡°I was just telling our dear sister what a monumental fuck-up she is.¡±


    She holds a hand to her mouth as her dark eyes crumple in pain. ¡°Shut up!¡±


    ¡°Jessica, the FBI was investigating Dad for a long time. They just used your information as a springboard to raid the whole ce. It would¡¯ve happened eventually.¡±


    My sister looks so fragile in her little ck t-shirt and yoga pants. She trembles as she climbs into a plush armchair. My brother slinks into the room and Jessica hugs her knees, looking thoroughly depressed.


    ¡°Jessica, you need to leave town.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± she sniffs. ¡°Why?¡±


    I shoot my brother an angry nce. So, he didn¡¯t even tell her, did he?


    ¡°The man you met, Jamie Ti, is involved in the New Jersey mafia.¡±


    ¡°The mafia?¡± she repeats incredulously.


    ¡°Yes, dammit. We don¡¯t have time for you to second-guess me. They will kill you once they find out you ratted them out. They already kidnapped me from work. He promised what would happen if I didn¡¯t do what he said.¡±


    She shakes her head as tears streak down her cheeks. The sound of her sobbing fills the room. ¡°Marisa, I didn¡¯t mean to cause all this trouble! I swear! I just couldn¡¯t stand w-what Nathan did.¡±Exclusive ? material by N?(/v)elDrama.Org.


    ¡°Which was?¡± His low voice erupts from the center of the room.


    ¡°You know what you did!¡±


    ¡°Jessica! It¡¯s not worth fighting over, understand? Get your shit together and drive out of here. Now.¡±


    Jessica stumbles out of the chair and the sound of her feet running up the stairs as her crying echoes throughout the apartment makes me close my eyes. A shiver of pain runs up my spine as a ghost image of Jessica¡¯s pink feet stomp up the stairs, wailing. Nathan stood at the foot of the stairs, holding the remains of her favorite doll.

 3-30

    The same man stands at the foot of the stairs, twenty years older. Instead of a doll, he holds the banister, twisting and twisting his hands around it as if it was a neck. He rounds on me, his face tightening with rage.


    ¡°When theye after me, I¡¯ll tell them it was you.¡±


    A knife twists in my chest, puncturing my lungs of air. Malice brightens his eyes as he stares at my throat, and then I remember George. My pet frog that he taped to a stick and beat to death. Tears spring into my eyes. I found him in the backyard, what was left of him anyway. I used to hold him in my hands, loving the damp feeling of his skin as he hopped down my arm. His pink innards were squashed out of his sides as if Nathan had stretched him on concrete and stamped hard. All because I used his Smash Mouth CD without his permission. He made me swear never to tell Mom and Dad, though I suspected Dad saw the body, because afterward Nathan was sent to a therapist.


    ¡°Why do you hate me?¡± Angry tears slip down my face as he watches me impassively.


    ¡°You took everything away from me.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t even want it.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. In fact, that makes it worse.¡± His high, cold voice echoes in the high ceilings.


    ¡°I-I never told them what you did to George.¡±


    ¡°Still with that fucking frog?¡± He gives an angry sigh, stepping around me. ¡°You know people eat frogs, don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°You killed him.¡± My voice trembles. ¡°I loved him and you killed him anyway for no reason.¡±


    The backyard rang with my screams when I found the body. I¡¯ll never forget the pain. It was just a stupid frog, but right now I feel more anguish for that damned thing than I do for my own dead father.


    ¡°You got your fucking revenge. I spent weeks in therapy, trying to convince Mom and Dad I wasn¡¯t insane,¡± he says in a bored voice. ¡°Because I killed your stupid pet. Grow up.¡±


    Grow up.


    Rage boils under the anguish and all the injustice bursts from my throat in a scream. Iunch myself at Nathan¡¯s taller, much stronger body and smash him into the window. I rain fists on his head, reaching for the bandage over his nose. I want him screaming in pain. I want him to feel the horror inside me, but it¡¯s clear that the only kind of pain he can feel is the physical kind.


    ¡°I HATE YOU!¡±


    ¡°Fucking BITCH!¡±


    Jessica¡¯s hurried footsteps make my nerves ze with fear. ¡°Stop, Nathan!¡±


    A sharp blow connects with my temple and I stumble, stars bursting in front of my vision. Another dull blow sends me crashing down. My face explodes in pain as it crunches on the wooden floor. I¡¯m dazed in a fog of pain. He opens the front door and grabs my shirt, so that my head is pushed between the door. Oh, God. He grabs the edge of the door. I know what he¡¯s going to do-


    SLAM.


    Someone¡¯s screams pierce my ears as a throbbing, deep pain cracks my skull. I am dazed. Hands grapple with the door, and I somehow flop over. From my position on the floor, I see Jessica¡¯s arm twist behind her back as Nathan yanks it, tears streaming down her face. I somehow stumble to my feet and charge at him blindly. His back ms into the banister.


    I scream at her. ¡°Go! Take your keys and go now!¡±


    Then I grab his nose and twist it. Sobbing, she grabs her keys and runs out the door, and I¡¯m knocked to the floor, air crushed from my lungs. My hands seek the doorknob, ready to die to stop him from hurting her. I won¡¯t let him chase her.


    The squeal of tires from outside sends relief through my head, even as Nathan ces a palm on my chest and shoves hard. I fly through the door. My legs trip, and hard, unyielding cement stabs my back, my head.


    The blond demon stands at the doorway. ¡°Goodbye, sister.¡±


    Then a pair of hands grab my arms, and a ck bag shoves over my head. There¡¯s nothing but darkness.


    * * *


    My whole body hurts like a bitch and the floor rumbles. There¡¯s a sharp pain in my skull, like a nail trying to pound into my brain. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. My back hurts badly and the position I¡¯m in makes it throb even worse.


    ¡°¡­do her in Pine Barrens. The brother swears it was her, and she¡¯s already threatened to go to the cops. All right. Yeah, I know. We should be back before seven. Bye.¡±


    A thick Jersey ent. The sound of a phone dropped back into a cup holder.Exclusive ? material by N?(/v)elDrama.Org.


    Pine Barrens. I know that ce.


    Slowly, I make sense of my surroundings. I¡¯m in a car and they¡¯re driving me to South Jersey for some reason I¡¯m not yet aware. My cheek rests on something hard. A shoe, which is connected to a leg. I sit up and a pair of hands help me onto the seat, but I immediately pitch forward.


    ¡°Where am I? Who are you?¡± There¡¯s no hood on my head anymore.


    Three unfriendly faces turn back to me. The driver who made the phone call speaks. ¡°We¡¯re taking you to the hospital. Then you need to talk with Jamie.¡±


    The way he says it almost sounds usible. I want to believe him. My heart pounds against my chest and it¡¯s going to break my ribs. If that were true, we wouldn¡¯t be driving to a heavily forested area of New Jersey. I wouldn¡¯t be surrounded on both sides by two men.


    They¡¯re driving me there to kill me.


    I¡¯ve heard about how people react when they know they¡¯re going to die. There are those who calmly ept it, who are afraid but swallow it down anyway, and there are those who freak the fuck out.


    I freak the fuck out.


    Iunch forward and manage to grab the steering wheel, wrenching hard to the right. Someone grabs my hair and yanks me back, but not before the car swerves violently.


    ¡°Fuck!¡±


    The car trembles and there¡¯s a scream of rubber. Then suddenly a shriek of metal as we smash into the guardrail. I¡¯m thrown to the side.


    ¡°Crazy cunt! Kevin, let¡¯s just do her here.¡±


    ¡°Are you fuckin¡¯ nuts? There are too many witnesses.¡±


    ¡°HELP!¡± My screams tear through the car as Iunch at the handle of the door. ¡°HELP!¡±


    ¡°Shut that bitch up!¡±


    A vicious p to my mouth momentarily breaks my screams, and finally they decide to get out of the car. Suddenly I¡¯m shoved onto the cement and told to walk into the forest line. Into the tall pines, which will be my graveyard.


    Oh, God. I¡¯m going to die.


    I think of the man who¡¯s probably waiting patiently at my sister¡¯s house for me to arrive. Joe-his handsome, beautiful face and his lips sweetly caressing mine. My chest fills with warmth even though I¡¯m trudging through this cold, damp forest. I love him! I love him and he doesn¡¯t even know. I never got to tell him-


    ¡°On your knees, you fuckin¡¯ whore.¡±


    He kicks the back of my leg and I fall on my hands and knees, sprawling on a bed of leaves. I crawl furiously, sobbing. Theirughter rings in the forest. Still no gunshot. Faster. Faster. I¡¯ll feel it in a second, a painful stab in my back. My hands scrabble through the dark earth, smearing all over my jeans and hands like bloodstains. Then I hear it.


    Crack.


    I wait for paralyzing pain, for the punch to my back.


    A male scream lifts in the air, and then another.


    Crack. Crack.


    I¡¯m not being shot. They are.


    Suddenly, a bunch of earth flies into the air next to me and I stare at it.


    ¡°Marisa!¡±


    I turn around on my side to search for the voice. Two bodies struggle on the earth, their sides heaving. Thest man hides behind a tree, and then I see a familiar silhouette step out from the tree to aim it straight at him. The pop of more gunfire cracks the air, and then chunks of bark fly from the tree. He steps out and pulls the trigger. The empty chamber spins.


    ¡°HE¡¯S OUT!¡±


    At the sound of my voice, Joe steps out again and crack. The driver¡¯s body stumbles backward as a bullet ms into his chest. He clutches his white sweater, which bursts with dark, arterial blood. Like a broken puppet, he falls on the floor. Joe walks to the two other men who are still breathing and fires more bullets into their chests. Their bodies shake as death seizes them instantly, and then Joe turns to thest one to fire more into his body, even though he¡¯s already dead. A terrible darkness seizes Joe¡¯s face. I¡¯ve never seen that kind of hatred on his face before. Only on that man, Vincent. Only when the empty chamber spins for several times does he stop pulling the trigger, and then he pulls a fresh magazine from his jacket and reloads.


    Crack. Crack. Crack.


    Right into his face.


    I turn my head away as blood stters everywhere. I don¡¯t want to see it.


    ¡°Joe, please.¡±


    The sound of his heavy breathing and his footsteps crunching on dead leaves grows louder and then he stoops down. I fly into his chest, suddenly cold and shaking. I¡¯m aware that I should be crying, but I just can¡¯t feel it. The pressure of his arms is there, and my heart throbs at a rapid pace. I see Joe hugging me as though I¡¯m floating above him, and then I wonder if I¡¯m dead.


    ¡°Baby, are you all right?¡±


    My head still rings with the shots.


    ¡°I don¡¯t-I don¡¯t know.¡±


    He kisses my temple as his arms tighten around me, squeezing me painfully. ¡°You¡¯re okay. You¡¯re safe,¡± he says in a tight voice. ¡°Thank God you¡¯re okay.¡±


    Slowly, several sensationse back. The leaves under my hands, his breath steaming over my skin, the sharp curves of his body, the stubble on his cheek, the beating I took, and the fear, which slowly purges from my body like alcohol during a hangover. Profound relief floods my body and I choke into his chest. He¡¯s always been there for me, from the beginning. Even though he wasn¡¯t family. Even though he barely knew me.


    ¡°I was going to die and I didn¡¯t get to tell you that I love you, too.¡±


    He inhales sharply and his fingers dig into my clothes. His lips touch my head. ¡°I¡¯ll never let you go.¡±

 3-31

    ¡°Four dead men. Four dead made men who she witnessed.¡±


    Jack¡¯s blue eyes kind of remind me of my brother¡¯s, and I quickly look away. We¡¯re in the back of a deli store, of all ces. I sit on a chair around a wooden table across from the rest of New York City¡¯s most dangerous men. Vince, the one I loathe, doesn¡¯t re at me with the same suspicion as the boss. His hand rests in his palm thoughtfully as he looks at us.


    I feel out of ce here, even with Joe¡¯s protective arm curled around my shoulder.


    ¡°I wish he killed more.¡± The nastyment makes a few men seated around the tableugh, but my insides squirm. Since when did I be so bloodthirsty?


    Since they ruined my reputation and tried to kill me.


    It¡¯s true, though. I don¡¯t feel a shred of remorse for the three fallen bodies. Or Frank. There¡¯s nothing wrong with killing someone who was going to kill you.


    What about your brother?


    My eyes slowly fill with tears. There¡¯s a scrape of a chair as Vincent rises from the chair and walks to the refrigerator, digging something out. He approaches me with a white bag hanging in his palm and gives it to me.


    ¡°Here. Put this on your face.¡±


    Pity wrinkles his face as I take the bag from him.


    Somehow, I¡¯ve gained this bastard¡¯s sympathy. Hurrah.


    I press it against my swollen face. My tears feel like ice.


    ¡°What I don¡¯t understand is how they knew you were there.¡±


    I could me the whole thing on him. Tell them that my brother was the one who talked to the FBI and save my sister. Offer his head to them like a sacrificialmb.


    The idea jumps at me and suddenly I find myself talking before I¡¯ve really considered whether I really want to sentence my own brother to death.


    ¡°It was my brother,¡± I choke out.


    You¡¯re a terrible person. You¡¯re worse than them. At least they didn¡¯t lie to you.


    My insides rot.


    ¡°He talked to the feds. I heard it straight from them, and he knew the men who abducted me were outside Jessica¡¯s apartment, waiting for me. I just hope my sister is somewhere safe.¡±


    Joe¡¯s hand tightens on my shoulder. ¡°He was there?¡± he says in a tight voice.


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s really fucking lucky that you were there to tail them, otherwise your little girlfriend would be dead.¡± Jack digs the cigarette he¡¯s smoking in an ashtray bnced precariously on the table. His old, wrinkled eyes stare at Joe. ¡°Four made guys, Joey.¡±


    Vincent lifts his head angrily. ¡°We¡¯re at war with them. What the fuck does it matter?¡±


    A few murmured agreements join Vincent¡¯s voice.


    ¡°Even so, there are other factions who might side with Carmine now. They might think we¡¯ve gone too far. They¡¯ll be gunning for you. Both of you.¡±


    His warning slides down my spine like cold water.


    ¡°So we¡¯ll leave town.¡±


    Jack nods. ¡°Don¡¯t go to Montreal. I don¡¯t want to involve friends of ours in this shit.¡±


    ¡°All right,¡± Joe says in a harsh voice.


    I look at him. His jaw is clenched shut as he stands up. He looks nervous.


    ¡°I¡¯ll give you a call when things have straightened out here.¡±


    Vince gives me a nce and then his dark eyes flick to Joe. ¡°Can I talk to you for a second?¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡±Exclusive ? material by N?(/v)elDrama.Org.


    My heart skips as he briefly holds me to his chest and kisses my icy cheek in front of them. My skin burns, obliterating the cold from the ice pack. ¡°Be back soon.¡±


    Vince throws an arm around the slightly shorter man. As I watch their faces bend toward each other, I¡¯m struck by the simrity in features. God, they could be brothers. Vince¡¯s face is a little more devilish, a little crueler, whereas Joe¡¯s is unruffled. His lips lift asionally in a small smile, never really expressing much. Vincent is more animated-more energetic. Joe is sedate.


    Always calm.


    Always in control.


    No wonder I like being around him. He made me feel a little better while chaos exploded around me. Every so often, his eyes dart towards me and freeze, and a wave of intense heat rolls through my body. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll ever get tired of how he looks at me.


    It doesn¡¯t even bother me that I¡¯ll have to leave this ce. As long as I¡¯m with him, I won¡¯t mind. I just want my sister to be safe.


    The boss, Jack, gives me sidelong looks along the table as he lights another cigarette. A shiver of unease crawls over my skin. Then a warm hand strokes the back of my neck and Joe¡¯s lips move on my ear.


    ¡°We gotta go.¡±


    ¡°What about my sister?¡±


    Cool eyes stare back at me. ¡°We¡¯re going to send someone to protect her.¡±


    ¡°And-my brother?¡±


    The eyes look away, his jaw tensing. ¡°He¡¯ll be taken care of.¡±


    I stand up suddenly, a rush of blood overwhelming my head. ¡°No, I can¡¯t let you-I can¡¯t. I know what he did, but just let him go to jail.¡±


    The guys give me strange looks as Joe takes my head in his hands.


    ¡°You know that won¡¯t work.¡±


    My head swims with memories of Nathan, my mind drudging up every single sympathetic thing he ever did. I know he tried to get me killed, but I can¡¯t help but feel revulsion for what Joe wants to do. I¡¯m not like him. I can¡¯t just disconnect from my humanity, but I wish I could. I wish I could pull the trigger and feel satisfaction running through my veins.


    Ever since I¡¯ve met him, I¡¯ve struggled with right and wrong. What is right and wrong? The old me would have been repulsed at the choices I¡¯ve made now. How many murders have I witnessed and why don¡¯t they bother me as much as they should? Why do I give a shit about my brother who scared me into silence as a child, and threatened me as an adult? The questions bounce around in my head, unanswered. Self-doubt makes my heart race. I feel guilty. I¡¯m leaning strongly into Joe¡¯s dark world, and I feel guilty about it because it¡¯s easy. It¡¯s convenient. It¡¯s so much easier to kill the bastard, to get rid of him. Why stop there? Why not kill all of them-all the people in my way?


    That¡¯s the danger I find myself slipping into, like a deep, sluggish pool. Coils wrap around my ankles, my wrists, tugging me deeper until I can¡¯t breathe. I ept that Joe lives a life that I could never wrap my head around, but must I ept it for my own? Must I kill my own brother?


    I¡¯m afraid of losing myself in this darkness.


    ¡°It¡¯s not just about protecting you,¡± he says, thumbs stroking my cheeks. ¡°He went behind our backs to Jersey. We can¡¯t let this go.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to sign off on this. You do what you have to do, but I don¡¯t want any part of it.¡±


    His hands fall from my face. ¡°All right.¡±


    Joe says his goodbyes to the others while I lean against the wall and cross my arms, blocking out images of Nathan as a boy out of my head. We finally head out and I lean my head against his shoulder, desperate to get out of this ce-to be alone with him.


    He looks happy, too. Joe gives me a wink and smile as he opens the passenger door for me and I slide inside, content to rx in the leather seat. Joe steps into the driver¡¯s seat and turns the ignition. The vibrations through the floor of the car suddenly send a wave of panic through me. I clutch my chest. My heart feels like it¡¯s squeezing, like juicing an orange. I¡¯m being crushed-suffocated.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong? Marisa!¡±


    The rumbling of the car stops and he gets out, wrenching open the door.


    ¡°I¡¯m dying!¡± It¡¯s hard to exin where this wild panices from. Something about the vibrations of the car reminded me-reminded me of being dragged into the woods and almost executed.


    He pulls me from the car and holds me against his chest. The overwhelming urge to hide takes over. I ball myself in his chest, shaking as he holds me like an infant. A pair of footsteps clip on the pavement.


    ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± says Joe¡¯s panicked voice. ¡°We got in the car and she freaked out.¡±


    Vince¡¯s head dips into my vision. ¡°She¡¯s just having a panic attack. Adriana had them after the shooting.¡±


    ¡°Shit.¡±


    The more he holds me, the more the suffocating pressure recedes. I draw a shaky breath. I still feel jumpy as hell, but at least I don¡¯t feel like I¡¯m dying anymore.


    ¡°It¡¯ll be all right. Just take her somewhere quiet where both of you can rx.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m okay.¡±


    Joe helps me stand up and two pairs of concerned eyes stare at me. My cheeks burn and I suddenly feel stupid and weak for copsing in his arms. At the same time, I don¡¯t feel normal. There¡¯s a strange, buzzing noise in my ear and suddenly there¡¯s a crack in the distance, reminding me of gunfire, and I jump horribly.


    Vince raises his eyebrows. ¡°You¡¯re not okay, but you will be.¡±


    After a few more minutes of coaxing, I get back into the car and the anxiety floods back into my chest. I grit my teeth and grab the armrest, shaking as he drives the car. Joe gives me worried looks as we pull onto the highway. I just can¡¯t close my eyes, that¡¯s all. If I close my eyes, I¡¯m transported back into that car driving me to my own death.


    Joe puts music on, probably to distract me, but I can¡¯t calm down. I don¡¯t know why. I know he won¡¯t hurt me. There¡¯s no rational exnation except that I was almost killed earlier today, and being in this car is torture. I feel like I¡¯m in one of those sweat lodges.


    Jesus Christ.


    ¡°Want to y some mini golf?¡± he murmurs suddenly.


    I give him an incredulous look. Mini golf? Seriously? ¡°I don¡¯t think this is the time for mini golf.¡±


    A small smile ys on his lips as he suddenly takes an exit. We¡¯re not even out of Jersey, yet.


    ¡°Joe, I really don¡¯t think this is a good idea.¡±


    Suddenly, he pulls into the parking lot of a huge, grey building with giant, green letters that say: ¡°MONSTER MINI GOLF.¡±


    ¡°Oh my God.¡±


    He pulls into an empty parking space and the growl of the engine cuts off. ¡°Let¡¯s just blow off some steam for a bit. You need it.¡±


    A wave of uncertain relief washes over me. ¡°But isn¡¯t this dangerous? We¡¯re still in Jersey.¡±


    His shoulder lifts up in a shrug. ¡°I really don¡¯t think we¡¯ll run into any wiseguys here.¡±


    Fair enough.


    The inside of Monster Mini Golf ispletely ck, lit up only by rows and rows of softly glowing ck lights. Joe and I walk inside amidst a sea of children and preteens, looking wildly out of ce. He doesn¡¯t seem to mind as he buys golf clubs for both of us, handing me a white ball that seems to glow in the darkness. The pinging soundsing from the arcades remind me of the casino, and my heart clenches in pain.


    I just can¡¯t think about it.


    The 18-hole golf course looks like a highly colorful graveyard. There are cartoonish ghosts surrounding the bright green borders, and every hole has a unique monster.


    Joe grips his tiny putter and aims through the legs of a giant, red dragon with glowing eyes. He swings and the dragon suddenly emits a loud puff of steam, and his ball goes wide.


    He looks extremely disappointed in himself. ¡°It distracted me!¡±


    ¡°Hey, don¡¯t me the dragon for your subpar skills.¡±


    Joe¡¯s body bumps into me suddenly, and a rush of heat floods my cheeks when he brushes hair from my shoulders. ¡°You¡¯re going to be like that, eh? Fine. Bring it on.¡±


    He grins at me and leaves my side, determined to win the game. The rest of the course passes with us teasing each other, and Joe trying to distract me when I swing the putter. On the final hole with the clown¡¯s tongue, he moves up behind me and grabs my waist, rough fingers slipping on my hips.


    ¡°You sure you can do this?¡±


    A shudder runs up my legs, up into the glow between my legs. Damn, he makes me so weak. I feel like a girl with a crush when I turn around and stare at his full lips. A vision of me sucking them sends more electrical shocks through my skin.


    ¡°Yeah, I can!¡±


    I turn around and bend slightly, focusing at the ball at my feet as Joe strokes my ass shamelessly. His lowughter nearly drowned in the cacophony. The white ball zips up the long, obscenely red tongue of the clown into his mouth, then shoots out neatly into the hole.


    I win.


    ¡°Goddamn it.¡±


    As he leans in to kiss me behind my ear, I suspect he may have yed badly on purpose to cheer me up. I turn my head so that my lips brush against his mouth and I feel his smile against my mouth. His hands grip my waist and the sensation gives me a tantalizing image: me on my knees as his hot hands anchor on my waist, thrusting. My tongue teases inside his mouth as I drop the putter. It ngs on the floor, but I don¡¯t give a shit. My hands move inside his jacket, stroking his broad chest and his gorgeous neck, which is flushed with heat. Joe pulls away slightly, not enough to make me feel rejected, but enough to make me pout. He squeezes my sides and gives me a look heavy with lust.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to get me hard and then we¡¯ll both be thrown out.¡±


    ¡°So let¡¯s go.¡±


    A deep, low growl resonates in his throat as he kisses me again, his hands straying a little too close to my ass. Then we leave the miniature golf ce and enter the blessed silence of the night. When we approach the car, I expect him to open the passenger door for me, but he looks at me with a steely grin and slides the seat up.


    ¡°Get in the back.¡±


    He wants me to get in the back of the car?


    A tantalizing bump bulging in his jeans tells me why. I riled him up in the mini golf ce. A little too much. ¡°Joe, we can¡¯t fuck in a car.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve fucked in an office, in a shower, on my bed, on your couch, and now I want to fuck you in my car.¡± He steps forward, grabbing my waist with that dangerous look in his eyes that tells me there¡¯s no way out of this. ¡°I want you now, and I¡¯ll have you in my car.¡±


    I love it when he talks like that. ¡°But-it¡¯s in public and we might make a mess.¡±


    ¡°Just think of it as blessing the leather seats in my car.¡±


    Laughter shakes from my throat to echo around the half-filled parking lot.


    ¡°Get in, sweetheart. I¡¯m going to fuck your brains out.¡±


    I smile at him and step inside, desire already swirling in my stomach as he follows me swiftly and shuts the door. It¡¯s like I¡¯m a teenager again, filled with bliss with the discovery of young love or lust or whatever the hell it was. He moves in close to me, close enough so that his breath warms my neck. Then his hands burn across my shoulders, letting my jacket fall, and then pulling off my t-shirt. Somehow, it feels more sensual in the cold. His lipsnd on my vicle like hot pokers as he yanks my bra away. The sliding sound of his hand on my naked skin makes me shiver, and then he suddenly grabs my tits, his thumbs caressing the erect nipples.


    God, everything he does makes me feel so amazing, even thepliments he breathes into my ear. I¡¯ve never felt so desired-so loved.


    ¡°You¡¯re fucking gorgeous.¡±


    Then he suddenly bites my tits as ifpelled by some mad urge. I grab his cock as the sweet pain sears me. He tears off my pants and I nearly slice my finger open trying to unzip him. It¡¯s a trial just to get his massive cock out of his briefs, but then he hooks his thumbs around them and pulls them off. Every inch of him stands to attention. I just want to lean forward and lick that mouthwatering sight.


    Oh, God. Are we really going to do this?


    I look outside, a stab of anxiety shooting up my spine as I hear voices. Toote, though, because Joe takes my waist and there¡¯s a moment of fumbling between the lips of my pussy. Then sweet, glorious release as he impales me with his thickness. There¡¯s a tiny sting, followed by slick, eye-rolling pleasure. His legs flex as he pounds me ruthlessly. It¡¯s clear he¡¯s in for a quick, hard fuck, but I want him to go on for hours. My hand desperately ttens on the window, making a wet streak where we¡¯ve already fogged.


    ¡°Look at me when I¡¯m fucking you.¡±


    I do. His brown eyes squint in exertion, rolling back in ecstasy as he connects hard with my waist. I link hands around his back, feeling his sweat through the t-shirt. There are no words-I can only moan desperately into his ear, my hands wing at his back.


    ¡°Faster. Harder.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to fill your sweet mouth with my cum, and you better swallow every drop.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯ll do it. Just don¡¯t stop!¡± My scream rebounds harshly in the car, and for a moment I¡¯m horrified, but Joe doesn¡¯t give a shit. He drills my pussy, riding me faster until every breath is knocked out of my lungs before I can draw it down. Then suddenly he pulls out and shimmies up until his waist is level with my face. His cock prods my face and I turn my head to take him in my mouth. I wrap my fingers around him tightly as he pumps in and out, urging me on with moans. ¡°Yes, just like that.¡±


    His hand cups my pussy and dives in deep, striking the bed of pleasure nerves over and over. My chest intes. I breathe hard and suck him harder. He¡¯s getting close. The hand holding my hair pulls painfully. Fingers dive into my wet pussy and it¡¯s as though they¡¯ve lit a fuse to a bomb. Closer and closer. He¡¯s splitting my mouth wide, his hips moving. Then he lets out a huge groan and salty warmth fills my mouth. The fingers curve, anchoring inside me as I fall apart, my orgasm clenching around him as he pumps in my mouth. I swallow down every drop and then he pulls out to hold me in his heaving embrace.


    Joe rolls his eyes andughs. ¡°That was fucking amazing, just absolutely¡­¡± He shakes his head. ¡°You¡¯re incredible.¡±


    ¡°I love you.¡±


    His eyes freeze and his hands stop in my hair. ¡°Do you mean it?¡±


    I don¡¯t know when it happened. Maybe when we went to Coney Ind together. After that, I couldn¡¯t stop thinking about him. Lightning struck and I¡¯m crazy about him. I forgot my head and followed my heart.


    ¡°I¡¯m crazy about you, and I¡¯m not going anywhere.¡±


    He smiles then, suddenly looking like the happy young man in the photographs at his apartment. ¡°Me too.¡±


    We sit in the backseat of his car for a few minutes, basking in that happy glow. I¡¯m already thinking about what my future will be like with him. ¡°You know what¡¯s weird?¡±


    He makes a sound through his throat that I feel through my back.


    ¡°I¡¯m happy, even though I don¡¯t have the casino anymore.¡±


    A long sigh leaves his mouth and he rubs my shoulder feverishly. ¡°We¡¯ll get it back from those fucking pricks.¡±


    To be honest, the casino and all the shit that came with it made me sick. If it was free from Jack¡¯s influence, that would be another story. But it¡¯s not, and I don¡¯t want to deal with it anymore.


    ¡°I don¡¯t need it. I just need you.¡±


    His arms tighten around me and his lips press against my head. Then he snorts withughter. ¡°I never would have believed it. You hated my guts when we first met.¡± He squeezes my arm. ¡°Not that I me you,¡± he adds quickly.


    ¡°Trust me, I wouldn¡¯t have believed it either.¡±


    ¡°I still had to try, even though you hated me.¡± He trails his finger down my arm. ¡°Then they made me watch over you and you just so happened to be in a vulnerable position and I couldn¡¯t fucking resist.¡±


    ¡°You took advantage of me.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and I don¡¯t regret it. Not one bit.¡±


    The finger burning a path over my naked skin sweeps up my neck and turns my face towards him. He crushes his lips against mine and excitement leaps in my chest. I want him again, but his phone rings somewhere in the discarded pile of clothes.


    He lets go and dives into the clothes, picking up his phone. ¡°Yeah?¡± Joe sits up straight. ¡°What do you mean, you can¡¯t fucking find her? Did you ask James in the department to look for her license te?¡± There¡¯s a beat. ¡°Where is it? No, it doesn¡¯t. Fuck, we¡¯ll be there soon.¡±


    ¡°Goddamn it!¡±


    The hair rises on my neck as he ends the call and clenches the phone to his chest. Wide eyes seek mine. ¡°They can¡¯t find your sister.¡±

 3-32

    Lost. Gone. Abandoned.


    Staring at her empty car is like looking at her skeleton. Furious tears wrack from my throat when we find it.


    ¡°Kill him! I¡¯ll rip his fucking throat out! It¡¯s Nathan! Nathan-that fucking piece of shit-he did it. He must have followed her after she left.¡±


    I tear my voice screaming. My shouts ring through the air as I look at Jessica¡¯s car. It¡¯s as if we found her body. Joe paces around the abandoned car, ncing inside for clues. Her car was found only a few miles away from her apartment. Ben, the guy tasked with finding her, gives me an anxious look. Then Joe looks up over the car tentatively. His fear squeezes the breath from my lungs.


    ¡°No. No! She¡¯s not dead! She¡¯s not fucking dead!¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t say anything,¡± he says in that unnaturally calm voice.


    ¡°Don¡¯t look at me like that!¡±


    ¡°Calm the fuck down,¡± he snaps. ¡°He obviously wanted us to find her car-¡±


    ¡°Or he thinks I¡¯m dead.¡±


    My face burns as Joe stares at me from behind the car. He walks towards me, the nk look on his face frightening me until he grabs my arm, moving in close to me.


    ¡°Jamie will know what happened by now. He¡¯ll know that his soldiers failed. It¡¯s possible it was fed down the grapevine to your brother.¡±


    ¡°Why the hell would he do that?¡±


    ¡°Because he wants you dead.¡±


    ¡°Then wouldn¡¯t he ambush us here?¡±


    He opens his mouth impatiently, but a frantic buzzing in his jacket stops him. His hand dives in his jacket and pulls out the slim, ck phone. ¡°This is Joe.¡± Then his voice dips to a low hiss. ¡°Who?¡±


    He presses the speakerphone before I can make a sound.


    The voice that crackles through the speaker is tightly coiled, trembling with violence.


    ¡°It¡¯s Jamie Ti.¡±


    ¡°What the fuck do you want?¡±


    ¡°You and that cunt will meet us at Giovanni¡¯s. You wille alone.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I don¡¯t know if I want to do that.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯lle or I¡¯ll slice open that pretty little neck of hers right after I stick my fat cock up her twat.¡±


    The muscles in my back quiver.


    ¡°What the fuck do you think you¡¯re doing?¡±


    ¡°I am getting my fucking revenge. You whacked four made men without consulting Carmine-¡±


    Joe gives him a derisiveugh. ¡°Fuck you and fuck Carmine. You dumb shits got busted by the feds. You fucking deserve it. I heard they wiretapped all those VIP rooms.¡±


    I¡¯m so furious with Joe, I want to explode. Instead, I kick his shin and he winces.


    ¡°You want me to kill this bitch? Here. I¡¯ll let her talk to you.¡±


    A high-pitched wail echoes into the speaker. ¡°Please, no. Please!¡± The voice dissolves into uncontroble sobbing.


    It¡¯s her.


    It¡¯s my little sister.


    Tears well in my eyes and I grab the phone. ¡°Leave her alone, you sick son of a bitch!¡±


    ¡°Ah, Ms. Toffoli, so good to hear your voice. Come alone. If I get a whiff of any of those other Vittorio assholes, I¡¯ll kill her.¡±


    The phone suddenly darkens before I can scream a protest. Joe snatches it from my hand. ¡°Jesus fucking Christ.¡±


    ¡°What are we going to do?¡±


    Ben uncrosses his arms. ¡°You can¡¯t go there alone.¡±


    He jerks his head. ¡°I know.¡±


    My voice rises into a shriek. ¡°Did you not hear him? He¡¯ll kill her if he finds out we brought anyone with us.¡±


    He takes my shoulders and shakes them. The blood rushing to my head gives me a dizzy spell and I slump in his arms.


    ¡°Marisa, you need to trust me on this. If we go over there alone, it¡¯ll be the same as me taking out a gun and killing ourselves now. It¡¯s the fucking same, and your sister will be dead, too.¡±


    Anger burns my stomach like coffee on an empty stomach, and for a moment I hate him for telling me the cold, hard truth.


    ¡°Then what should we do?¡±


    Suicide mission or not, I¡¯m going there. If there¡¯s a chance to save my little sister, I¡¯m taking it no matter how small.


    JOE


    How the fuck are we going to survive this?


    To be honest, I don¡¯t expect to survive this night. I don¡¯t even expect her sister to be alive when we get there, but how can I tell her that when she looks at me like I¡¯m going to save the fucking day and make everything all right? She¡¯s whistling to herself in the car to some vague children¡¯s song that I kind of recognize.


    Whistling.


    Who the fuck whistles at a time like this?


    She¡¯s all-dee-dah and I¡¯m pissing my pants about this suicidal mission.


    I grind my teeth so hard that I¡¯m sure she can hear it. ¡°What are you doing?¡± I ask finally.


    Marisa turns her small face toward me. There are red streaks down her face and my stomach clenches.


    ¡°I¡¯m trying to keep it together.¡±


    Fuck.


    I link my hand with hers and drive the car, shaking my head.


    The n is simple. Vince and the others will show up in the subways a couple blocks from the restaurant, which is fucking risky enough. Too many cops patrol the metro. If any of them are frisked, the whole n is fucked.


    They won¡¯t expect us to show up alone. I brought a piece, even though it¡¯ll be taken from me.


    Then Vince and the others will have to subdue every guard he¡¯s got without alerting Jamie, and save our asses before he fucking kills us both.


    Stupid fucking n.


    We¡¯ll both be fucking shot the moment we step through the door.


    ¡°You need to be prepared for the fact that we might not make it out of there alive. She might be dead already.¡±


    She inhales a sharp gasp. ¡°Don¡¯t say that, Joe.¡±


    ¡°You need to hear it.¡±


    Newark¡¯s shitty streets roll by my window. Broken streetlights cover the crumbling sidewalk in darkness, where bedraggled men sleep over filthy nkets.


    She reflexively grabs my arm. ¡°You don¡¯t have to do this. Seriously. I can go in there alone-¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going with you. I¡¯ll always go with you.¡±


    Her eyes slowly fill with tears as I park the car on the street right across from the restaurant. I didn¡¯t notice anyone on the streets on the way there, and I send a quick text to Vincent. They might be hidden on the rooftops.


    A grinning man taps on the passenger side window with his gun. I have to stop myself from taking out the gun buried in my waist. Marisa shakily grabs the handle and opens the door. I follow suit.


    Here we fucking go. I hope Vince is at the subway stop.


    He smirks. ¡°Came alone, did you?¡±


    I give him a withering re as he pats me down, finding the gun I¡¯ve strapped to my waist. His hand pats me down dangerously close to my dick. ¡°Easy around the goods, asshole.¡±


    Like I¡¯d hide a gun near my dick.


    He takes the gun strapped to my leg, and shoves it into his pocket. ¡°I don¡¯t know why you bothered.¡±


    He lifts my shirt and finds the concealed knife. Then he runs his fucking filthy hands all over my girl and finds all of her shit, too.


    We¡¯repletely naked without the weapons. My heart hammers hard against my chest as he walks us to the restaurant. Everything inside me screams not to go.


    Get the fuck out of here, this is suicide!


    It¡¯s funny how only a couple months ago, I would have done this without a second thought. I didn¡¯t give a fuck about my life, or anyone else¡¯s. Now that I¡¯m close to ending my life, my heart beats faster and faster, determined to keep me alive. This is wrong. We shouldn¡¯t do this. Vince was right, it¡¯s absolutely fucking nuts.


    But I walk in there anyway.


    I must the dumbest asshole in the world.


    The restaurant looks like a haunted house. Jamie Ti never bothered to patch up the holes, or fix up anything. Probably because he got more business that way.


    Marisa¡¯s arm shivers next to me as we step inside, the asshole¡¯s gun prodding my back. There¡¯s a guard on either side of the door, and they keep a careful watch outside. I see a few in the back of the restaurant, guarding the kitchens.


    ¡°Keep away from the windows,¡± Vincent told me. ¡°Just in case.¡±


    Just in case he decides to rush the fucking ce, guns zing. It was hard enough convincing Jack not to do exactly that.


    Then I see something that makes my stomach drop.


    The asshole brings us to a door leading down into the basement.


    This is it. This is where we¡¯re going to die.


    Fine, then.


    She walks ahead of me, gripping the wooden railing as we walk down. My nose twinges. The smell of gasoline saturates the air. Her nose scrunches together as she notices the same thing and another swell of fear expands in my chest. I feel cold all over.


    There in a midst of old pots and pans and used appliances, Jamie Ti stands next to Nathan. Jessica sits in a corner, her hair and clothes strangely wet and a foul odor wafting from her body. Duct tape covers her mouth but her eyes stare out, livid with fear.


    Jamie looks off. His cks are wrinkled and his hair is unkempt. Beside him, Nathan looks calm, still wearing that splint on his nose. I suppress the urge to give him a gloating smile.


    Marisa trembles with rage. ¡°What the fuck did you do to her?¡±


    A slow smile spreads on her brother¡¯s face. ¡°The same thing I¡¯m going to do with you.¡±


    Jesus. Oh, fucking God.


    Someone grabs her from behind and wraps a rope around her hands. I stand still, my muscles screaming to act.


    You can¡¯t just fucking let them do this to her.


    But there¡¯s a gun digging into my back.


    ¡°What¡¯s the fucking point of this? What are you hoping to aplish, here?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m getting all the shares of mypany. Yours. Jessica¡¯s. I want them all. I was willing to share the business with you, but you pushed me too far.¡±


    Her face crumples in agony and my fists tremble.


    Please, please hit me so I can beat the shit out of you.


    ¡°Well that¡¯s too fucking bad, because I had my will specifically name someone else in the event of my death, and it¡¯s not either of you.¡±Exclusive ? material by N?(/v)elDrama.Org.


    His eyes sh. ¡°You¡¯re lying.¡±


    Marisa¡¯s wildughter rebounds in the cavernous basement. ¡°You think I sat tight with my thumb up my ass after you tried to choke me to death? No, I met with our attorney and made the changes. Even if you kill both of us, you still won¡¯t be the major shareholder. You¡¯ll never be.¡±


    He makes a violent movement towards her, but Jamie ces a hand on his arm. ¡°No matter. All we have to do is find who the prick is.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll never find who it is. Ever.¡±


    His teeth shine. ¡°Well, I¡¯d like to see you say that again with a vice crushing your skull.¡±


    Her mouth trembles, her fists white behind her back. I seriously doubt she had the time to do everything she said she did, but it doesn¡¯t matter. What matters is whether her brother believes it.


    A whimpering noise suddenly snaps my attention. Jessica sits up straighter and bends over, her stomach rippling as she tries to retch from the gasoline fumes, but the tape prevents anything froming out. I take a step towards her, but Nathan blocks my path.


    ¡°She¡¯s going to choke.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the idea.¡±


    Fury boils my insides as I stare at this dead-eyed prick. All those months I spent mourning my sister, and this piece of shit wants to kill both of them. I just can¡¯t fucking conceive of doing this to my own sister. It¡¯s too evil. Too fucked up.


    ¡°Nathan, stop this!¡±


    Marisa¡¯s horrible screams ring in my ears. The guy tying her arms yanks her backwards.


    ¡°You know, even I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d be stupid enough toe alone. I¡¯m d you did, though. Makes my job so much easier.¡±


    The slimy asshole has no idea what¡¯sing for him.


    ¡°You¡¯re a fucking disgrace. It¡¯s your fault that your crew got pinched, not Jack¡¯s, and not hers. Be a fucking man and admit it. Don¡¯t take it out on her.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m doing this to kill as many of you New York assholes as I can. As for these girls, I¡¯ll get a fat payout from them once they¡¯re gone. It¡¯s nothing personal.¡±


    Theyugh with one another as the thug grabs my arms and ties me to a support pole. He uses one of those zip ties around both my wrists, linking them both. He grins as he picks up a red gas can, which sloshes with liquid. Then he hurls it at me. Yellowish liquid sshes all over my clothes, the putrid fumes making me gag. He does the same to Marisa.


    Jesus, we¡¯re all going to burn to death.


    A sound from upstairs makes my heart leap with hope. The rat-at-tat of gunfire sprays through the restaurant, and I imagine Jamie¡¯s men dropping down, one by one. Jack won¡¯t stop until every one of them is dead.


    His eyes lift towards the ceiling.


    ¡°You¡¯re not going to make it outside this building.¡±


    The basement echoes with the clipping sound of his shoes and Marisa¡¯s sobbing.


    ¡°I¡¯ll survive. I always do.¡±


    Then he reaches inside his pocket and produces a slim, ck lighter.


    Snap.


    His thumb strikes the wheel and a brilliant, small me burns in the basement. The whole basement reeks of gasoline-he¡¯s fucking crazy. He holds a rag soaked in gasoline and lights it. It¡¯s submerged in mes, and then he tosses it in Jessica¡¯s direction.


    ¡°NO!¡±


    Ear-splitting screams pierce my brain as the floor erupts in mes. Jessica shrinks against the wall as the heat grows on the floor. Even I can feel it on my legs. I strain against the zip ties and Jamieughs, coughing slightly as he hurtles up the stairs along with Nathan.


    Marisa screams for help, and I¡¯m trying to think of a way to get us out. With all the gunfire upstairs, I doubt anyone will hear our cries for help.


    I strain my muscles against the zip ties, wincing as the cut deeply into my arm. I¡¯ll never be able to force them open. Think. What else? I can cut it open.


    The pole I¡¯m attached to feels old, with hundreds of jagged edges. I tune out the smoke, heat, and screaming, and I move my wrists up and down over a rough spot. mes leap over the walls and Jessica slumps against it, ovee with the ck smoke.


    Harder.


    Acrid smoke burns my lungs, burns the air. Fuck, it¡¯s hard to think.


    I¡¯ve got to get out.


    I drag that zip tie over the jagged edge as hard as I can. The threads snap apart and I almost pitch forward as my hands break free. Holy shit, I did it.


    I stumble forward. There¡¯s a line of fire separating me and Marisa from Jessica. mes dance over her clothes. Shit. I can¡¯t stay conscious much longer.


    ¡°Save her!¡±


    But I can¡¯t. My clothes are soaked in gasoline and if I jump through that wall of fire, I¡¯m fucked. I untie Marisa and ignore her screams for me.


    ¡°Joe, save her first! SAVE HER FIRST!¡±


    Once freed, she runs towards the back of the basement to get something long and red. Fire extinguisher. Fuck, that won¡¯t help against a fire this big.


    I tear my soaked shirt from my body and Marisa sprays the extinguisher towards the fire, clearing a small path for me. There¡¯s ckness all around Jessica¡¯s mouth. I run into the heat and grab her wrists, pulling her out. I loop an arm around her waist and we climb up the stairs. The way is all ck. ck, acrid clouds billow towards the door. She bursts through and I feel the heat at my back.


    We burst into a storm of gunfire. She helps me pull Jessica into the kitchen and I tear the duct tape from her lips. Bullets smash into the ster behind us, and I realize we¡¯ve run directly into Jamie¡¯s crew. Marisa jumps on Jessica¡¯s chest, giving herpressions. My hands slip on the tiled floor. Blood. It¡¯s still warm. Is it mine?


    A loud, crashing sound sends my heart beating fast. I lunge towards the sound, tripping over something solid. A body. There¡¯s a metallic glimmer near his hand. I grab it, the heavy weight giving me instantfort. A man in a suit rises over the cook¡¯s station. He has a gun. Aim. Shoot. I fire the gun at his chest and look away before he drops. There¡¯s another one. Crack.


    ¡°Get the fuck out!¡±


    I fire towards the oily voice, near the red, glowing exit. Jamie slips through the door, along with Marisa¡¯s fucking brother.


    Damn it.


    ¡°JOE!¡± A deep voice booms from front of the restaurant. ¡°Where are you?¡±


    ¡°HERE!¡±


    There are mes crawling all over the walls of the restaurant, now. Jessica sits up next to Marisa, looking traumatized but otherwise all right. Marisa¡¯s tear-streaked face turns towards me.


    ¡°Find him, Joe. Find him and kill him.¡±


    As soon as Vince rounds the corner, I streak towards the exit with my gun. My lungs gratefully breathe in the crisp air. There are men fleeing everywhere, but I¡¯m just looking for one.


    Nathan¡¯s blond hair shines in the night. His long legs sprint down the street, heading towards his car. A murderous rage fills my limbs with energy. I lope after him aiming the gun as I run. Crack. Crack.


    Both smash into the pavement, clouds of dust bursting in the air. He turns around and sees me, and then he raises his hand. The muzzle shes, and I dive to the side, but he¡¯s such a horrible shot that it explodes four feet to my right. I stop, aim, and fire.


    Nathan stumbles.


    I got the fucker.


    My feet pound the pavement and just before I reach his body, a surge of hatred sears against my chest and another round explodes into his back. I kick the gun away from his hand, and it scatters down the street.


    It doesn¡¯t satisfy me to see him bleeding on the street. I want to see his face when thatst flicker of light dies from his eyes. Using one leg, I flip his body over. His face is a mask of blood as he flips over. He groans and spits out a stream of dark blood.


    ¡°What the fuck is it with you and my sister? Does her pussy really taste that good?¡±


    The degrading filthing from his mouth makes me want to use my gun to smash his teeth. Instead, I fire my gun into his thigh. Nothing fatal, but it¡¯ll make his death more painful. He screams and screams and screams.


    ¡°If you had shown your sister a little bit of respect, you wouldn¡¯t be dying right now. I¡¯m going to enjoy watching you die. Take your time. I¡¯m in no hurry.¡±


    That seems to rouse him, even while blood spills from his thigh. ¡°Fuck you. You¡¯re nothing but a goddamn thug. Apdog.¡±


    ¡°At least I¡¯m not dead.¡±


    He flinches and screams as another shot sinks into his throat. His head ms back, and his mouth makes a gurgling sound as he chokes on his blood.


    How fitting.


    I step closer, watching him clutch his throat, struggling to breathe. Fucking asshole wanted his sister to choke to death, and now he¡¯ll get to feel what it¡¯s like. His round eyes search and stare. I wonder what he¡¯s looking for. I wonder what Janice thought of before she died. His red mouth gapes, his face turns blue as his eyes bloom with blood, and then they stop moving.

 3-33

    Steam spirals over the cup of coffee she holds in her hands, staring at her sister lying in the hospital bed. She hasn¡¯t really moved in a few hours. I lean across the doorway, my heart breaking for her. Her sister will be fine, really. There wasn¡¯t much to fix on the outside, but the damage that was done to her spirit-who knows how long that¡¯ll take to heal?


    It¡¯s not everyday the man you call your family tries to kill you in a badly thought out plot to take over the family business.


    A hand grabs my shoulder and I jump. Jesus Christ. It¡¯s just Vince.


    He gives me that annoying smirk and I embrace him. A dull thud pounds through my heart as he ps my back. I owe a lot to the guy.


    ¡°How¡¯s she doing?¡±


    ¡°How the fuck do you think? Her own brother tried to off her,¡± I say in an undertone.


    A long sigh leaves his throat. ¡°She¡¯ll be all right. It¡¯ll take a while, but she¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    He doesn¡¯t look so sure.


    ¡°Jamie is atrge, but we¡¯ll get the bastard eventually.¡±


    I roll against the wall as the lights burn into my eyes. ¡°Jesus Christ.¡±


    ¡°Well, you can tell her that Jack wants nothing to do with the casino anymore. Not with the feds crawling all over it. So she has it back, no harm done.¡±


    The news gives me a sudden shock of hope, but it detes almost immediately. I can¡¯t imagine that the news will cheer her up at all. I don¡¯t think she really cares about it anymore.


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    Sighing, he ps my shoulder onest time and turns around to leave.


    ¡°Listen, Vinny-thanks for everything.¡±


    He gives me a pained smile. ¡°I was worried about you for a while.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know whether you¡¯d evere back to us.¡±


    I make a face, hating that he¡¯s bringing this up again. ¡°Yeah, well-¡±


    ¡°Then you met that girl. I thought you¡¯d lost your fucking mind over that girl, and I was right, wasn¡¯t I?¡±


    I¡¯m in no mood for his shit. Acid bubbles in my throat. ¡°Vince-¡±


    Heughs. ¡°Rx, goddamn it. We all lose our minds over these fucking broads.¡±


    * * *


    The tension in her jaw is so tight that I¡¯m afraid she¡¯s going to crack her teeth. Once she¡¯s in her apartment, she heads straight for the kitchen. I follow her uncertainly. She¡¯s been through so much shit tonight-more than any normal person could handle. So far she hasn¡¯t cried. She hasn¡¯t lost it.


    But she needs to.


    Bending over, she grabs something-a garbage bag from the kitchen. The silence in the apartment is deafening. She grabs both ends and violently shakes the bag, opening it. I¡¯ve no clue what she¡¯s up to. And then a high-pitched gasp leaves her mouth as she lunges at something-a picture frame. I get a glimpse of her father¡¯s face before she throws it into the bag. She moves through the apartment, gathering every portrait of her family-every photo of her brother. The ss shatters in the bag and I hang nearby. I don¡¯t know what to do. I¡¯ve never dealt with anything like this.


    Tears stream down her face as photo after photo crashes into the bag. Her shoulders heave and my chest feels like it¡¯s caving in. I can¡¯t stand watching her cry.


    ¡°Marisa¡­Marisa.¡±


    Her lip quivers and she tightens her fists around the garbage bag, and then suddenly she lets out a scream. She hurls it against the floor, smashes it against the wall with all her strength. The tinkling sound of broken ss is swallowed by her screams of rage.


    Jesus.


    Finally, she stops, red-face and arms shaking.


    I¡¯m almost afraid to approach her.


    ¡°All my life I¡¯ve tried to be there for my family. I stayed even though I hated my brother. I didn¡¯t choose this family. It wasn¡¯t fair that I was stuck with a brother like that. My dad¡­¡± her voice chokes. ¡°He didn¡¯t help me. He threw me to the fucking wolves-¡±


    ¡°He probably thought that only you could deal with all this shit-with the families. He wanted to get out, that¡¯s why he talked to the feds. There wasn¡¯t enough time to exin it to you.¡±


    She looks at me like she wants to believe it. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    Cautiously, I take her hands in mine, forcing her to let go of the bag. ¡°Let it go, hon. You¡¯ve spent a lifetime trying to please everyone but yourself. It¡¯s time to let them go.¡±


    ¡°What about-what about the FBI?¡±


    ¡°They won¡¯t find any evidence against you. You¡¯ll have to pay the penalties, and that¡¯s it. You¡¯re free.¡±


    She wraps her arms around my middle as her face presses into my neck. ¡°I don¡¯t know what I¡¯d do without you.¡±


    The fear fromst night rises inside me once more, when I thought we were all going to die. Her arms squeeze the breath from my lungs and I hug her back, never wanting to let go.


    MARISA


    There¡¯s a small post-it note on my nightstand. I figure it¡¯s a note from Joe, telling me where he¡¯s gone, but instead I read a cryptic message:


    I¡¯ll be back when you finish. Your first clue: the ce where ddin finds Genie¡¯smp. ¨C Joe


    I roll my eyes as a reluctant smile spreads over my face. He does this all the time-prepares these little games while I¡¯m home and he¡¯s out doing something for Jack. A ball of nervousness burns in my chest. It makes me worry when he¡¯s out. Sometimes hees back with blood on his shirt or swollen knuckles, and I worry. I worry that he might note back.


    So he makes me these games at night while I¡¯m asleep, and then I wake up to a note and the treasure hunt begins. At least it distracts me from worrying.


    I have no idea what to make of the first clue. ddin found themp in a giant, treasure-filled cave in the desert, which was shaped into a lion¡¯s head.


    I move the handcuffs from the floor into the nightstand, my face heating when I think about how he fucked mest night. Six monthster, he still gives me the most incredible, most amazing-


    The jewelry box!


    The ck jewelry box I have sitting on my vanity has to be where he hid the next one. Sure enough, there¡¯s another note hidden among my nes coiled in the box.Content provided by N?velDrama.Org.


    Hey, gorgeous! Good job on finding your first clue. ?? Next one: The enchanted object that a furry guy uses to spy on his love.


    My mind draws a nk. I clutch the note to myself, moving around the apartment to look at the purse sitting on the counter, the vase with the long-stemmed roses.


    Roses.


    Furry guy.


    Beauty and the Beast?


    I shake my head,ughing as I enter the bathroom and rifle through my dresser. There¡¯s a note attached to the handheld mirror.


    Hello again, hotness. I have to say, those marks on your neck make you look pretty damn sexy. But, anyway, on to the next clue: That annoying bird hates what?


    My forehead creases. Annoying bird. How many annoying birds can there be? I can only think of Iago, in Disney¡¯s ddin. And he hated crackers.


    Laughing at that, I walk into the kitchen and find a box of saltine crackers, with another note inside.


    The game goes on and on, for nearly half an hour. He¡¯s never put this much effort into a game. Every note has a sweet message that makes my heart melt a little bit, and I tuck them all into my pocket. I¡¯ll want to remember this.


    Congrats! That was yourst clue! Come into the office to im your prize.


    Curious, I tuck the note inside my pocket and scurry around the corner, now positively beaming. In my office, I see my man dressed to the nines. Joe stands in an impable ck suit, his hair groomed perfectly, his shirt ironed without a single crease in sight, his shoes shined, his chin shaved to that stubbly length that I love.


    And he holds out a box.


    A small, ck one.


    Oh my God.


    He opens it and a ring sparkles in the light. My throat closes suddenly when he drops to one knee and plucks the ring from the box. The smile on his face trembles a little bit. He¡¯s confident, but not sure. Notpletely.


    ¡°I love you, Marisa and I want you to be mine forever. Will you-?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I burst out, crying. ¡°Yes, goddamn it.¡±


    His face cracks into a wide smile as he takes my hand, slowly slipping the ring onto my finger. Oh my God. Oh my God.


    ¡°I can¡¯t-I can¡¯t believe it.¡±


    He stands up to catch me in his arms, and I hold my hand out as if it belongs to an alien.


    ¡°Believe it, sweetheart,¡± he says huskily.


    He hugs me so tightly that I feel my ribs cracking. I¡¯m so happy that it wouldn¡¯t matter if I died right now.


    I¡¯d have everything I want.


    Then my eyes pass over a small detail. A small photo sitting on my desk that escaped my purge reminds me of the man I once admired. My dad.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± The confidence in his voice shakes slightly.


    ¡°I love you and I¡¯m excited for our future, I just-I don¡¯t want it to be-I don¡¯t want any part of what you do for a living.¡± I look at his face, which looks worried. ¡°I gave up too much of myself for my family. I won¡¯t do it again.¡±


    He smiles. ¡°Babe, I don¡¯t want you to be a part of it. You won¡¯t ever be involved.¡±


    Soft fingers curl around my jaw. ¡°I mean it. The only reason you were involved is because we had business with the casino. That¡¯s over for good. I promise.¡±


    My eyes burn as he kisses me, and then he pulls away, frowning.


    ¡°I made reservations at a ce with our friends and family, you know, if you said yes. Maybe I should cancel it.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± My voice echoes loudly. ¡°No, I want to go!¡± I lift my face and press my lips against his, loving the way my skin heats when he brushes the hair from my neck. He stuns me with a deep kiss, until my back touches the wall.


    ¡°Well, then,¡± he says, smiling. ¡°Let¡¯s get you ready.¡±

 3-34

    A smattering of apuse greets us when we approach the table reserved for us. Everyone¡¯s there-all of Joe¡¯s friends and work associates and their wives, even Jack, who still gives me a slightly bitter taste in my mouth. The few friends I have, cousins, and even my mother made an appearance, but I only have eyes for my little sister.


    My face burns as they cheer for us and I turn into Joe¡¯s arms,ughing at him. ¡°That¡¯s a lot of people.¡±


    He rubs my back, beaming at them all. ¡°C¡¯mon. Let¡¯s say hello.¡±


    I grip his hand like a vice and he winces as he leads me to the table. Jack bows his head to me. ¡°Congrattions, Joey. You too, hon.¡±


    I smile thinly. I haven¡¯t forgotten how after I sold Worlds Casino, Jack demanded a cut. I gave him enough to cover my Dad¡¯s debts, and then I made it quite clear that if he wanted more, he¡¯d have to go through mywyer. I could have kept the casino beyond his reach, but I just didn¡¯t want to do it anymore. All it did was remind me of my dad¡¯s legacy, of how corrupt he let it be. I didn¡¯t want any part of it.


    Vincent leans over the table and shakes my hand. ¡°I¡¯m happy for you guys.¡±


    ¡°Me too,¡± says his wife. ¡°You guys are so cute together.¡± She gives me a friendly smile. ¡°Wee to the family.¡±


    The family. Not just Joe¡¯s family, but the Vittorio family, too. I¡¯ve epted it because it¡¯s a part of him. I never got to choose my own family, but I¡¯m choosing this one. I choose him.


    I thank her and move along the table, epting congrattions from everyone. It makes my head spin. Then my sister gets up from the table and wraps her arms around me, and then to my surprise, Joe.


    He returns her embrace with a look of slight shock, and to my astonishment Jessica bursts into tears.


    ¡°I never really thanked you for saving my life.¡±Content provided by N?velDrama.Org.


    Joe whispers reassuring words into her ear and she cries in earnest. I love him for how sweet he is with my sister. He¡¯s patient with her in a way that I never was.  Sometimes, he looks at us with such a pained expression. He misses her. Janice.


    ¡°I love you both. I¡¯m really happy for you.¡±


    He beams at her and she finally detaches herself from Joe¡¯s neck to sit down at the table with her face buried in her hands.


    Poor Jessica. She never really recovered from the fire. I lean forward and grab her hand, and she looks up. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry for everything. I was always-I was such a b-brat!¡±


    Iugh at that. ¡°Jess, you¡¯ll be my maid of honor?¡±


    She lunges at me and wraps her arms around my neck, now positively howling.


    Thoughts of another man inevitably creep into my head when she finally calms down and we eat food. It¡¯s right there, between us, and yet we never talk about it. Him.


    I can¡¯t even think of his name. His name is like the whisper of a dark spell-or a curse. Like Voldemort in Harry Potter. Too evil to say out loud.


    That¡¯s what it feels like, anyway.


    Joe looks at me from across the table with a sympathetic smile. He lets me rant and rave about it. Often, he¡¯d hold me at night when all I could do was cry about my brother.


    But the truth is, Jessica and I are better than ever. Without him, we¡¯re happier. We¡¯re thriving. It¡¯s like he¡¯s been poisoning me all these years, slipping it into my coffee, and now that he¡¯s gone, I¡¯m free. I¡¯m happy.


    Across the table, I see Joeughing hard at a joke Vince said down the table. His bright eyes momentarily catch mine, and I feel lighter. He looks just like the man in the photograph, the ones that he proudly disys all over our home. Suddenly, he gives me a wink and I¡¯m filled with that hot, giddy feeling. He mouths something to me: Love you, babe.


    Me too.


    End of book 3

 Chapter 1 of book 4

    TOMMY


    ¡°Please, stop!¡±


    Please, stop. Please, stop!


    It¡¯s useless noise. The words roll right over my shoulders. The noises he makes are like paper clips thrown at a brick wall. They do nothing to me.


    I flinch as a particrly loud scream stabs my ears, and for a second I consider shing open his throat to kill the noise. It¡¯s always the same fucking thing. Same routine. I catch them. I torture them. They scream, beg, fight, and then they die. All of them.


    A man in my position has an intoxicating amount of power. Sometimes, I¡¯ll admit, it goes to my head. I might not decide who dies, but I decide how they die. Sometimes there¡¯s information I¡¯ll need to extract from them, but most of the time I¡¯m just fucking with them. There¡¯s an artistry to what I do. You think it¡¯s easy to break someone, to wear them down until there¡¯s nothing left? It¡¯s not. It takes a lot of energy and a lot of guts. Not many people can do what I do.


    Sure, there are plenty of fucking psychos out there who¡¯d dly take my job, but are they trustworthy? Can you count on a guy who acts as if he¡¯s got nothing to lose?


    No.


    The only danger in doing what I do is losing yourself from the things you¡¯ve done. Pieces of you get ripped away, little by little. You change. You¡¯re like a beast, with blood running down your front and a manic grin on your face. People look at you differently.


    We¡¯re in a stainless-steel room that¡¯s supposed to be used for butchering meat, buttely Jack has me butchering people here, too. In this room, blood saturates the air. It¡¯s a strong, metallic smell that stays in your nostrils for hours. I¡¯m the only one in his crew who can stomach this kind of shit. And you get used to the screaming, the same old pleas, the threats, and all that boring shit.


    We have him strapped to a table. There¡¯s nothing Jack wants from this guy.


    The underboss, Vince, watches from across the room, and I feel his difort. His eyes burn with vengeance as he looks down at the man strapped to the table, but there¡¯s a tic in his jaw. It jumps and just that small detail tells me that he¡¯s ufortable. See, I can read people pretty well. I¡¯m pretty fucking intimate with human emotions. You have to be when you do what I do. I¡¯ve spent hours studying their faces.


    It¡¯s all in the eyes. They change when the person feels hope, when they think I¡¯ve granted them a reprieve. It¡¯s a lightening of the brow and a slight widening of the eyes. Like right now. The poor bastard strapped to the table looks at me with so much hope in his eyes that I almost feel sorry for him.


    Vince crosses his arms, trying to look unconcerned, but his fingers tap his elbow. It¡¯s a nervous tic. Every so often I feel his eyes and look at him. He can only sustain my gaze for a few seconds before curling his lip in slight disgust. I turn my gaze back toward the young man strapped to the table.


    ¡°I liked you the most, Tommy. Please, please don¡¯t!¡±


    His wasted face dissolves into sobs and the tears well up in his ssy eyes, spilling out like blood.


    Yeah, you liked me so much you decided to rat me out, along with everyone else.


    I slide the knife inside Ben¡¯s mouth as he screams, cutting himself all over the de, and then I turn the knife. It pierces his cheek and I make a sharp, flicking movement with my wrist and I make his. His mouth bes a bloody grimace.


    Vince sends another flicker of disgust my way.N?velDrama.Org (C) content.


    It rolls over me. I don¡¯t give a fuck what he thinks. Or what anyone else thinks, for that matter.


    I work my knife through poor little Ben¡¯s flesh, my ears vibrating with his screams. My knife twists as an electrical bolt strikes my brain, sending a sh of heat over my face.


    The man lying on my table belonged to a family I work for. He had privileges I¡¯ll never have. He was a made man. It¡¯s a license to steal, kill, to do whatever the fuck you want, and this asshole took a giant shit on the honor he was given. The fact that I¡¯m half-Italian, that I¡¯ll never be made no matter how much fucking money I make these pieces of shit, pisses me off.


    So I take it out on Ben.


    ¡°STOP! PLEASE!¡±


    Now he¡¯s finally getting desperate. The pain is so intense, he¡¯ll fucking say anything. Anything I want. His young face is a crisscross of wounds, like a sharpening block for a knife. I look at his eyes, whitened with fear.


    ¡°Tommy, PLEASE!¡±


    I bend my face toward him. ¡°What did you tell the feds?¡±


    ¡°Nothing!¡± The gash in his mouth opens obscenely. ¡°Just license tes and shit like that!¡±


    His stubbornness makes my blood boil, and Vincent shifts against the wall.


    ¡°Just tell me, and I¡¯ll end it.¡±


    But Ben knows too much. He knows how much I like this shit, knows it won¡¯t be quick and painless, no matter what I promise. Tears leak out of his eyes and his small body racks with pathetic sobs. Deep, gasping sounds that make Vincent squirm.


    ¡°MOMMY! HELP!¡±


    This happens sometimes. I¡¯ve heard about it happening in war, too. You always see it in the movies. Soldiers dying everywhere, spending theirst breaths screaming for their mommies. Well, it¡¯s not fiction. It happens. Extreme fear and blood loss do strange things to the brain.


    I don¡¯t like it when they do it. That¡¯s why I usually muffle their voices, but in this case I let him scream. We need him to talk.


    Vince curls into himself and swears under his breath, ironing his face with his hands.


    How can he feel pity for this asshole? He¡¯s just as bad as we are. We all deserve this.


    I work on his hands then, knowing how painful that area under your fingernail is. There are special tools I use. A thin, long piece of metal with a razor-sharp tip, as broad as your fingernail. I dig, dig, and dig. Soon his screams are shaking the table and he¡¯s thrashing so hard, I¡¯m afraid he¡¯ll rip out the restraints. He¡¯s like an unbroken horse. Jesus.


    ¡°What did you tell them, you rat fuck?¡± I scream right next to his head.


    Great, heaving breaths shake from his throat. ¡°I told them-I told them about the coke dealing at the strip club, but that¡¯s it, I swear!¡±


    ¡°Oh, fuck me.¡± Vince grips his hair, his eyes wide. ¡°What exactly did you tell them?¡± he bellows. ¡°Ben!¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t! I can¡¯t!¡± Ben closes his eyes and cries like a baby. It¡¯s a high, shrill sound that makes my ears ache. He might as well be a cow screaming before ughter.


    I set the tool down and pick up a knife, and Ben lets out an even louder wail.


    Giving up, Vince throws his hands up, shaking his head. ¡°Just fucking kill him.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not done with him, Vince.¡±


    A steely lookes over his face. ¡°Just do it,¡± he spits out.


    Make me.


    A grin spreads over my face. With this knife in my hands, he¡¯s not making me do fuck all. I want to sink this de right between that fucker¡¯s ribs, and I¡¯m crazy enough to do it. He knows it. I look right at him.


    ¡°No.¡±


    He tenses. ¡°No? What the fuck did you just say to me?¡±


    Vince eyes the knife in my hand. I realize that behind his thinly veiled disgust, there¡¯s fear, too.


    Good.


    ¡°I make a lot of fucking money for you, Vince. I only ask for one thing in return: I handle the hits.¡± The gleaming knife twists in my hand as white-hot anger clenches my jaw, making my face hot. ¡°If you can¡¯t take it, get out of my room.¡±


    ¡°Tommy, this is fucking sick.¡± His dark gaze lingers on Ben¡¯s pale body, which trembles violently as blood leaks out of him.


    Then get the fuck out of my room, pussy!


    ¡°I earned this, and I need it.¡±


    Vince¡¯s eyes glitter strangely as he looks at me for several long seconds. I can feel the judgment rolling off him in waves, which is fucking precious. He swallows hard, nods, and walks out the door. Ben moans horribly when it closes. Thest flicker of hope in his eyes dies when Vince leaves. He knows he¡¯s fucked.


    I start to work on him in earnest. He goes quiet when I¡¯ve extracted every single scream that I can. They all go quiet in the end, and only then do I kill them. With the knife, I swipe open his carotid artery, and he¡¯s dead in seconds. Dark-red blood spills sluggishly from his neck. There¡¯s blood all over the goddamn floor.


    What a mess I¡¯ve made.


    A wave of exhaustion hits me when I clean it all up and give the other associates his body parts to dispose. It¡¯s a catharsis. I don¡¯t glory in the gore of it at all. I don¡¯t like seeing the blood, the fibers of muscle tissue, bone, or any of that shit. It¡¯s the violence that gives me relief from the anger poisoning my blood. It¡¯s as if there¡¯s a monster banging on my ribs, wing to get out. If I wait too long in between kills, he takes over me. The rage consumes me, and I snap. I hurt people who don¡¯t deserve to be hurt.


    I wash my arms in the sink outside the room, but more blood keeps dripping from my soaked shirt, so I tear it off and shove it in the bag with Ben¡¯s arms and legs. I grab one of the deli¡¯s white t-shirts and pull it over my head, growling when several dots of blood bloom on the shirt like pinpricks. Goddamn, that fucker got all over me.


    Then I wring my hands out and push open the double doors to the back of the store. I feel like a doctor delivering bad news to arge family in a waiting room. Their eyes avoid mepletely. They know my arrival means Ben is gone.


    Normally this room is filled with the sound of people talking, bullshitting, whatever. Fifteen or so men are in the room, and you could hear a pin drop. What¡¯s there to say? A made guy was caught talking to the feds. It¡¯s an outrage. It¡¯s a tragedy, too. All of them look pale. Ben¡¯s betrayal shook them. Everyone liked him, even me. Ben had an infectious smile. Many of them regarded him as a little brother, but he talked to the cops.


    We all know what happens when you do that.


    Joe, one of the captains, took it especially hard. He sits in one of the chairs, looking as if his sister died all over again. They probably didn¡¯t hear his screams-the ce is pretty soundproof-but Vince sure as fuck did. Jack ces an arm around my shoulders, unsmiling.


    ¡°Tommy boy, good work. Why don¡¯t you take the rest of the night off?¡±


    I can tell from the unhappy faces that I¡¯m not wee here tonight. It¡¯s not that they don¡¯t like me, but I¡¯m the one who killed the guy everyone liked. The mood just feels strained. My footsteps echo hollowly in the deli, and I leave without so much as a wave, exiting to walk into the stinging air. It feels colder than usual, and it isn¡¯t until I reach my car and look at the rearview mirror that I realize my face is wet.


    An invisible force ms into my chest and I crumple over myself, my face falling into my hands. It¡¯s a strange tightening sensation in my chest. Air shakes through my mouth.


    He always saved me a seat at the poker table, always had a smile for me. He was a nice guy, but that didn¡¯t stop me from carving him up like a Christmas turkey.


    Why the fuck did you rat us out? You knew what would happen to you if we found out. Now you¡¯re gone, and your mother will get a visit from the FBI when you turn up missing, telling her that we probably killed her only son.


    I regret it.


    Remorse swells my chest, and I ball my hands into fists as a shaking sigh leaves my mouth. I sit there in the freezing seat of my car for a while and I feel low.


    Why did I do that to him? Why do I do it to any of them? There¡¯s no need to make them suffer so much. No need to torture, maim, and kill them like I do.


    But I can¡¯t stop it.


    Grief is like a tide. It blows forward, its icy white fingers grabbing my chest, and then it recedes. Then ites back and fades again, ebbing and flowing. Each time ites back, it¡¯s a little less strong. After ten minutes I don¡¯t understand the tears on my cheeks, just like I don¡¯t understand how some men shake when I rob them. The only thing I know is rage. The familiar stirrings begin in the pit of my stomach. The guys¡¯ faces run through my mind, kindling for the small spark.


    And I¡¯m angry again.


    I wish I could tell you that I was abused.


    I wish I could tell you that I had a shitty childhood.


    I¡¯m just sick.

 4-2

    MELANIE


    The steps of Columbia University¡¯s library glow in thete afternoon sun, and Iy my hands on the smooth creamy stone. I can feel the sunlight¡¯s warmth through my skin. Joyous, carefree voices reverberate around me, and I marvel for a moment at all the excitement around campus. Everybody is humming with the simple joy of being young and in love, and for a moment I can almost feel it, too.


    Sometimes Ie here and I pretend that I¡¯m one of them. For a moment, I believe it.


    Their eyes slide over me, instantly epting me as one of them because I am young, like them. I look as if I belong here. I do belong here.


    The hardest moment of my life was the day I rescinded my eptances to college. That was the day my dreams died.


    It¡¯s in these moments that I feel horribly lonely and lost. I¡¯ve never been surrounded by so many happy people, and felt such an ache in my chest. My eyes ze over and a breath catches in my lungs. Two pathways extend in front of me, the roads infinite. The one where I go to college is closed off forever.


    It¡¯ll never happen at this rate.Exclusive ? material by N?(/v)elDrama.Org.


    I swallow that bitter taste in my mouth, which burns with a vengeance when I nce at my watch. It¡¯s time for me to go to the club, where I work. I gave up my dreams to manage a club and watch people get shitfaced nearly every night, just so that my father could have an easier life. Without me, he¡¯d be running the club. He¡¯d have to deal with the men he brought into our business.


    And I don¡¯t want my dad getting mixed up with them.


    I shoulder my tote bag and walk through the campus, my eyes burning with such intensity that I¡¯m afraid to meet anyone¡¯s gaze. They¡¯ll see the ugly, jealous thoughts swirling in my head. Once I¡¯m off campus, the feelings will fade.


    I don¡¯t know why Ie here. To torture myself with visions of what could have been?


    No more visiting college campuses. No more lurking near cafes filled with students, and no more sitting in on huge lectures. It just makes me feel like crap.


    Just forget about college. Forget about learning things and meeting new people and having fun.


    The tightness in my chest gets worse and I walk quickly toward the streets, past happy couples and milling students, tears falling quickly down my face. No one stops to ask me if I¡¯m all right. They don¡¯t even look at me.


    I feel invisible.


    * * *


    Electric beats pound in my ears like a second heartbeat and the bass shakes the floor, vibrating up my legs to rattle my bones. A drunken man bumps into my shoulder and spills some of his drink on my pumps, and bile rises up my throat. It¡¯s rare that I can afford something as nice as those shoes, and now they¡¯re covered in what looks like rum and Coke.


    God, I hate this ce.


    ¡°Sorry!¡± he yells.


    I give him a thin-lipped smile and walk away from the bar. Too many drunken idiots. Too many sweaty, screaming bodies jumping and yelling. I¡¯m so sick of this constant buzzing in my ears, the people writhing on the dance floor, grinding on each other like animals in a documentary series. I am bone tired, and it¡¯s only a couple hours into my shift. My nose wrinkles in disgust at the state of the bar counters. There are fingerprints ghosting the normally gleaming counters. I try to rub them off. Sticky. Where¡¯s Manuel? He¡¯s supposed to clean this shit.


    I head for the Employees Only door, bursting inside. It¡¯s a small, depressing space with a long table and a few chairs and desks. Manuel sits back against his chair, a dirty washcloth lying on the table in front of him. My insides seethe when I see him lounging in a chair with two other guys.


    The door ms shut and he jumps at the noise.


    ¡°Manuel, when I tell you to clean the tables, I need you to clean the goddamn tables. They¡¯re disgusting. How long have you been back here?¡±


    A guilty look slides over his face. ¡°I¡¯ve just been taking a break.¡±


    Taking a break, my ass.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± I snap.


    He gets up slowly and looks at me moodily, grabbing his washcloth with a huge sigh.


    ¡°Hey, if you don¡¯t want to be here-¡±


    He throws up his hands. ¡°I¡¯m going. Sorry.¡±


    Then he walks around me and heads outside. I re at the men sitting down at the table, who should be out front, passing out flyers for the club, enticing people toe inside. In a desperately bored sort of shuffle, they stand up and wearily move to the exit, too. The looks they give me make me inwardly quail.


    I don¡¯t like doing this. I don¡¯t like ordering people around and acting like aplete bitch.


    Really, there¡¯s nothing about this job that I like, but I¡¯m stuck here.


    I nce in a mirror to gaze at my angry reflection, my ck curls like a dark halo around my head. For a moment I mourn the loss of the carefree, innocent girl I was only a year ago, before I began this mess. Now I¡¯m a foul-mouthed borderline alcoholic.


    I resist the urge to crawl into my office with a bottle of tequ and m the door shut. If I did, the whole ce would go to hell. There¡¯s always a problem, always a fight, someone trying to deal coke in the bathrooms, someone getting groped on the dance floors, problems with the live music, something.


    Fuck, there¡¯s probably something going on right now. There always is.


    I reenter the club, the loud st of music making my head pound. It¡¯s a Friday night and the ce is packed with people. Michelle, the club girl I hired a while back, tosses her blonde head on the dance floor. All she has to do is look hot and dance, and she gets free drinks. She gets paid for dancing, basically.


    I like her, though. She¡¯s smarter than the other girls I usually deal with. By smart, I mean that her vocabry is beyond ¡°like¡± and ¡°um.¡± It¡¯s a wee relief after dealing with so many girls in their early twenties who act like airheaded teenagers. Since I can¡¯t afford college, this is the only social interaction I get.


    Pathetic.


    A man in a dark suit sits at the bar, calmly sipping his vodka tonic. The lights bleach his olive-skinned face and the ck hair falling over his eyes. He notices me staring at him, and I look away. A rush of heat fills my cheeks when I recognize him.


    He¡¯s one of them. They all wear suits. They¡¯re all Italian. They¡¯re all squeezing the life out of me. The guy I¡¯m giving furtive looks once pressed a fifty-dor bill in my hand when Michelle and I were hanging out in the back. I saw them exchanging something with other guys-drugs, probably. It was when I first started working under my dad. I had no idea what I walked into.


    He saw that I saw, and cursed under his breath. My heart jumped in my throat when he made a beeline toward me, and then he opened my hand almost aggressively to shove that fifty-dor bill in my palm. Then he winked and walked away.


    He paid for my silence.


    It scared me.

 4-3

    Even though some of them are handsome, even though some girls would find that kind of danger appealing, I don¡¯t.


    I don¡¯t really need that kind of trouble in my life, but she¡¯s certainly begging for some.


    Michelle catches a glimpse of the man brooding at the bar, and gives me a grin.


    There¡¯s a ring on his finger!


    But that doesn¡¯t stop her. With her bubbly personality, her cropped tank top, and the skintight jeans she wears, no man seems to be immune to her charms. She boldly takes the seat next to him. My face burns in embarrassment for her.


    No, don¡¯t do it.


    She mouths something near his ear. I can make it out by reading her lips.


    ¡°Hi, Joe.¡±


    He turns slightly, takes in her appearance, and does a double take, because Michelle is a beautiful girl. A small smile flickers on his face as he slowly turns his hand, showing her his ring. I catch his voice from across the bar. It¡¯s low and lonesome.


    ¡°I¡¯m married.¡±


    ¡°So?¡± she says boldly.


    Oh God. Jesus, Michelle¡­


    Joe turns away from her, shaking his head as a smile ys on his lips. ¡°Not interested, hon.¡±


    It goes through me like a punch to the gut, as if he said it to me.


    However, Michelle¡¯s face is impassive. Her red lips shine in the low light and she dips her head, her curls brushing his shoulder.


    ¡°Your wife is a lucky woman.¡±


    Then she looks at me, shrugs, and bounces off the stool in search of another one.


    Joe watches her long after she leaves. There¡¯s no desire on his face, but maybe there¡¯s a bit of longing. I wish I fucked her before I met my wife. That kind of thing.


    I see another man in a dark suit, his back against the wall as he crosses his arms. He raises his head and looks at me from across the room through beams of colored light, giving me a nod. A wave of revulsion rises inside my stomach and I resist the urge to flip the bird. Right on cue, a swarm of simrly clothed olive-skinned men enter the club, their heads swinging around for me. Joe turns his attention toward them and stands up to join his friends. Once they spot my face, they make a beeline for me.


    Fire licks at the flesh inside me and acid bubbles in my throat, caustic and painful. I have no love for these men. They¡¯re like a cancer somewhere in my intestines, a painful growth that swells and bleeds. I just want to excise them from my life. I¡¯d do anything to be rid of them.


    Within a few seconds, the one who grinned at me slides in front of me. He¡¯s not as tall as some of the others, and only half-Italian. Maybe that¡¯s why I don¡¯t hate him as much as I hate the others. Fucking Italians. I¡¯m sick of them.


    He wears a dark-green shirt that brings out the flecks of green in his hazel eyes. Light-brown hair falls around his face. Tommy¡¯s face is smooth shaven, making him look younger than the others. If I didn¡¯t know any better, I¡¯d think he was some college kid. Often I¡¯ll recognize him by his loud, deepughter cutting through the noise in the club and then by his inevitable hand on my waist, which makes my heart pound no matter how hard I try not to think about it. He leans against my bar as if he owns it, and towers over me with a sweet smile on his face, looking at me as though I¡¯m the only girl in the ce. I like the way he looks, and he¡¯s definitely attractive, but I¡¯ll never date him.


    I know that he¡¯s no good.


    The other men surrounding him are full-blooded Italians, olive-skinned and dark haired. They stand a little bit apart from him, unconsciously dissociating themselves from him.


    ¡°Sweetie,¡± he says to me in his smooth voice, knowing that it¡¯ll piss me off. ¡°Why don¡¯t you get us some drinks?¡±


    There¡¯s just something about that overconfident grin and voice that makes blood pound in my head.


    I don¡¯t fucking like to be called ¡°sweetie.¡± How many fucking times have I told him? How many times have I told him to fuck off? I open my mouth to tell him off, but the piece of shit grins at me, knowing how angry it makes me.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you go fuck yourselves?¡±


    I can¡¯t stop myself.


    Tommy¡¯s smile widens and his eyes glimmer with mischief. His amusement isn¡¯t reflected on any of their faces. There¡¯s Vincent, who once twisted my arm behind my back. Joe, who pped me across the face when I didn¡¯t have my payment ready for him. He didn¡¯t like to do it, I could tell by the look on his face, but he still did it. Both of them are married men. It¡¯s unfathomable to me. What kind of woman would marry, let alone date these fucking creeps?


    I brush past them, knowing that they¡¯ll follow. Dread rises inside me like a storm, and I can¡¯t cry in front of them, so it explodes out in a rage that I can never control. No matter the consequences, I say whatever the fuck I want to them because I can¡¯t stand the Mafia. They¡¯re the worst of the worst. Parasites. Thugs.


    They follow me into the Employees Only room, into my office, which is actually quiterge. There¡¯s a big leather couch and a seat behind the ck desk, which Vincent takes immediately. My guts roil when I see him there, just sitting there as if he fucking owns it.


    I stare into his pitiless eyes and give him my lowest, deadliest voice. ¡°Get out of my chair.¡±


    A cruel grin darkens his face. He looks at me as though he can hardly believe I just told him what to do. ¡°Make me.¡±


    I take a step forward, prepared to take the chair and dump his ass on the floor, but the sound ofughter from the couch momentarily distracts me.


    Tommy shakes his smiling face. ¡°She has the biggest balls in New York. Vince, now you understand why I like this broad so much.¡±


    Vincent¡¯s smooth voice cuts in as he gives me a nasty smile. ¡°Actually, I don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care,¡± I say to both of them. ¡°I wish all of you would just drop dead.¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± Joe immediately gets in my face. ¡°The fuck is the matter with you?¡±


    Even though I¡¯m a whole head shorter than him, I stand my ground. ¡°Get out of my face!¡±


    The one in my chair looks upzily. ¡°You really need to learn to shut your goddamn mouth, Mnie. That¡¯s no way to speak to your partners.¡±


    Yeah, my dad made them partners when his restaurant business went in the shitter. It¡¯s been a nightmare ever since. They took over everything, redid the whole ce into a club, and took care of the gangs selling crank. Of course now they have their own people selling drugs in the club. They rack up a huge tab every fucking time theye here, and never pay. Fucking nightmare. My dad tells me to stay out of it as much as I can.


    I want nothing to do with it.


    Vince opens a drawer and tapes a bag containing dozens of small baggies of pills to the back: molly, LSD and little gram bags of coke. He ces it there and shoves the drawer closed. My eyes bore into his skull, which would make anyone else unnerved, but Vince is immune to my behavior.


    ¡°You got something you want to say, hon?¡± The tone in his voice hardens and he looks at me with an unyielding expression on his face. A prickle of fear stings my arm, giving me goose bumps.


    ¡°I told you. I didn¡¯t want that shit in my office.¡±


    ¡°Do you need another lesson in who calls the shots around here?¡± He stands up abruptly and takes a few menacing steps toward me.


    I stumble back, furious tears burning my eyes. ¡°That¡¯s right, hit a woman. Hit me, you piece of shit.¡±This is property ? of N?velDrama.Org.


    Coward.


    He raises his hand and I flinch, preparing for the blow, but he closes it. Vincent glowers at me for a few moments. His eyes slowly shift to Tommy, who still sits on the couch. ¡°What the fuck am I supposed to do with this broad?¡±


    Tommy smiles. ¡°Let me handle her.¡±


    Vincent gets a goodugh out of that. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m not that sick.¡±


    The ss twists in Tommy¡¯s hand as he shoots Vince a re.


    Vincent crosses his arms. ¡°How the fuck are our associates supposed to get the drugs? It¡¯s not like there are a lot of safe ces around here to hide it.¡±


    My blood boils as Tommy helps himself to a bottle of vodka sitting on the coffee table. It¡¯s my go-to drink when things get a little out of hand, which is often.


    My eyes burning, I grab the thick wad of money from inside my jacket and pull it out. I m it onto my desk while Vincent thumbs through the contents. Violent feelings churn inside me. I feel lost-out of control, ready to scream.


    ¡°This is a few thousand dors short.¡±


    Vincent¡¯s horrible voice echoes behind me as I stare at the dark walls. Every time I step inside this ce, my spirit dies a little. It¡¯s slowly being chipped away.


    ¡°I took out money for the three-thousand-dor tab you assholes are running. This ce is a business and I can¡¯t afford thousands of dors in drinks.¡±


    ¡°Business is doing great. Why do you always give us such a hard fucking time?¡± Vince looks irritated, as if he legitimately can¡¯t understand why I¡¯d be upset.


    ¡°We¡¯re just here to collect,¡± the other one says.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to see any of this shit. Do what you have to, but please leave me out of it. I don¡¯t want to see where you hide the fucking stash, I don¡¯t want to see fights in my office, and frankly, I don¡¯t have to see all of you at once.¡±


    Vince gives me a thoughtful smile. ¡°Fine.¡±


    I stop in my tracks.


    Fine? Did he just agree with me?


    ¡°Anything else you need to bother me with?¡±


    He smiles that dangerous smile that always precludes a bit of pain for me, and then he takes a few steps forward, waving the envelope of cash until it almost touches my face.


    ¡°Next time, you pay the full amount. I won¡¯t keep doing this, Mnie. If you don¡¯t smarten up, you¡¯re going to get badly hurt.¡±


    He makes me fucking fume and I hope he can feel the utter contempt rolling off my body, singeing his skin. I wish I could kill him, all of them, with my eyes.


    I¡¯ll go to the fucking police, that¡¯s what I¡¯ll do. I¡¯ll sing for them.


    I almost fucking say it. I bite down hard on my tongue to keep myself from actually saying it. Then Vincent gives me a sneer and moves from me. Joe follows and I¡¯m stuck in the room with Tommy, who quietly drinks my vodka.


    I wheel on him, shaking. ¡°You, too. Get the fuck out of here and out of my life.¡±


    He lifts the ss and raises it in a salute, and then he throws back his head and drains it. It ms loudly on the coffee table. He slowly stands up, pinning together his brown suit, which ispletely at odds with those greaseballs. Even that annoys me. It¡¯s as if he¡¯s trying to stand out. Be special.


    Then suddenly he¡¯s in my space, his hip bumping against mine. His arm tries to curl around my waist, and I pull away, heart pounding with fear. Breath catches in my throat. What the hell is he doing? I step around him, but Tommy blocks my path with a sly grin.


    ¡°Dammit-!¡±


    ¡°When are you going to let me take you out?¡±


    Oh Jesus. Not again!


    ¡°Tommy,¡± I start in a firm voice.


    ¡°Tommy,¡± he mocks. ¡°Oh,e on. Haven¡¯t I always been nice to you?¡±


    It¡¯s true, but that doesn¡¯t change who he is.


    His fingers grasp my chin, and I¡¯m infuriated by how brazen this guy is, but then I look into his eyes. They¡¯re warmer than I expected and it takes the wind out of my sails for a moment.


    ¡°You called me a piece of ass the first time we met.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not apliment? I¡¯m sorry, hon. I didn¡¯t know that I should have called you a cow.¡±


    The stern look I¡¯m trying to freeze over my face melts a little.


    ¡°Some women don¡¯t like to be talked to like they¡¯re objects.¡±


    ¡°I learned my lesson.¡± His voice drops suddenly. ¡°I call you ¡®sweetie¡¯ because I hope you¡¯ll be my sweetheart one day.¡±


    Despite myself, a smile stretches my face, and he grins back, making heat flush my chest.


    Okay, fine. I¡¯ll admit to myself that I like him. He seems to genuinely like me. Why else would he be so persistent? I met him six months ago and hated him instantly because he was one of them, but gradually he became one of the few I tolerate. He never let up all that time.


    I push his hand away and step back. ¡°It¡¯s never going to happen.¡±


    ¡°Why? You don¡¯t like Italians?¡±


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t.¡±


    I say it in a heated voice and Tommy falls silent. For a moment my cheeks burn and I wonder if I¡¯ve crossed a line, but Tommy cracks a smile and his shoulders shake withughter.


    ¡°What the fuck is this worlding to? You¡¯re prejudiced against Italians?¡±


    Not really. I roll my eyes at him and take a step toward the door.


    He catches my arm. ¡°Well, good thing I¡¯m only half.¡±


    ¡°Still too much.¡±


    Sweet Jesus, what part of I¡¯m not interested did you not get?


    He backs me against the wall and nts his hands on either side of my head so that I can¡¯t escape. My heart pounds faster, fear churning through my veins, making me sick. He has a violent reputation, and even the other guys seem to stand apart from him as if he¡¯s carrying a contagious disease. I¡¯ve heard things. Nothing specific, but dark hints about his behavior fly out of their mouths sometimes when they have too much to drink.


    ¡°Did you see that guy Tommy carved up the other day?¡±


    You don¡¯t forget something like that.


    Tommy leans closer and I inhale a wisp of his cologne. Cedar. It feels slightly overpowering and I¡¯m dizzy. He¡¯s never been physical with me, has never shown an iota of aggression toward me, but like I said. I can¡¯t forget the things I¡¯ve heard about him.


    ¡°You know, if you were myare, you wouldn¡¯t have to deal with anyone else again.¡± His voice sends shivers down my back. ¡°Just me.¡±


    ¡°What the fuck is that?¡±


    He smirks. ¡°My mistress.¡±


    My insides clench horribly. I¡¯ve no interest in him, and it has nothing to do with his attractiveness. Tommy is disarmingly handsome. He kind of takes your breath away, at first, all smiles and charm turned to the max. He¡¯s the kind of guy who knows how good he has it, and he¡¯s not afraid to make the first move. Not at all.


    If I met him anywhere else, I¡¯d find him charming and polite, and I¡¯d go out with him on a date in an instant. But I know him too well-I know the kind of people he associates with, and I know that he ¡°carved up¡± at least one man.


    ¡°And if you didn¡¯t pay up, it would just be my hands punishing you. No one else¡¯s.¡± His eyes smolder, as if the type of punishment he imagines involves me without clothes.


    Which is probably urate.


    I block that sizzling-hot image out of my head and bite my lip to keep the rudeness out of my voice. ¡°That¡¯s tempting, but no.¡±


    yful hands take a strand of my curly, dark hair and tuck it behind my ears.


    No, stop!


    I don¡¯t seem to be breathing. He¡¯s too close and my skin feels as if it¡¯s on fire.


    ¡°You are so fucking beautiful,¡± he says with a sigh that makes my heart clench. ¡°Let me take you out. Just once.¡±


    I¡¯m supposed to hate him, but how can I when he showers me withpliments that make my skin heat with pleasure? I can tell that he means them, too. He¡¯s not full of shit. He¡¯s also never been a jerk to me, even though I¡¯ve rejected him countless times.


    I will not let him worm his way inside me.


    ¡°No,¡± I say, finally. ¡°Please get out of my way.¡±


    He sighs again through his nose, but drops his hand and steps back.


    ¡°You know, you shouldn¡¯t talk to them like that. You¡¯ll just get hurt.¡±


    ¡°Tell me something I don¡¯t know,¡± I murmur.


    The smile is still there on his face. It¡¯s as if it¡¯s a promise that he¡¯s going to get me. He steps toward the door before I reach it and holds it open for me. My lips tug slightly from his beaming smile and I walk outside.

 4-4

    Once I leave the club, the dark cloud lifts from my head and I feel as though I¡¯ve regained several years of my life. My feet ache as I lock up the club, mming the door shut. It¡¯s four in the morning, but the sky is still ck. The streets are quiet. In downtown Manhattan, it¡¯s strange. My ears pound with that woh-woh sound echoing inside my head. I stuff the cash from tonight in my jacket and make my way down the street toward the subway.


    I need to go home and crash, and then I¡¯ll have to do it all over again, to wake up at around one. Then work again at seven. Every day it¡¯s the same. I kill myself in heels, walking around the club with a permanent headache, so angry that I make my stomach sick.


    This wasn¡¯t what I wanted to do with my youth, you know? I get to watch all my friends go to colleges that I can¡¯t afford. They¡¯re all studying and partying, and I can¡¯t even get a boyfriend. Once the guys see where I work and the type of men I have to deal with, they split. Who can me them? By now, everyone knows that the Crazy Horse is a connected club. Sane people avoid it. The fact that mobsters frequent the club seems to be an attraction for the people who flock here in droves. I don¡¯t understand it. There must be something wrong with their brains.


    The streets echo with another person¡¯s footsteps. The weight of them suggests that they belong to a man, and my insides tense. Years of growing up in this city made me develop a sixth sense for trouble, and I feel like tearing down the street in my heels. I¡¯m very aware of the thick wad of cash pressed against my ribs. I could cross the street, and then I¡¯d find out for sure if he was following me. I walk across without even looking for traffic. A quick pair of footsteps behind me makes my heart race as if I just downed a bottle of caffeine pills. I don¡¯t even look behind me. I¡¯m too afraid to. My pace quickens, my heels loud on the sidewalk: clop-clop. He matches mine, and then finally I look behind me and he¡¯s a foot away from me. The air rings with my scream and I tumble forward in surprise. He grabs the back of my neck and my skin screams at the vition. He ms me into the brick wall, and the breath is knocked from my lungs.


    Oh fuck. What¡¯s happening?


    ¡°Where is it?¡± he snarls.


    I don¡¯t know what he wants. I can¡¯t speak because his hand is still around my throat, and my voice is gone. The brick wall scrapes my face and there¡¯s a pinching pain where his nails dig into my skin.


    ¡°Where¡¯s the money?¡±


    His hands grope up my side, and I try to twist away from him. ¡°Get off of me!¡±


    The hand slips inside my jacket and grabs the wad of money. He pauses for a moment and gropes one of my tits. I elbow him hard, vomit rising in my throat. I don¡¯t even see his face as he releases me and sprints down the street.


    ¡°NO!¡±


    I take off after him, kicking my heels from my feet as I sprint after the dark, hooded man. Fucking piece of shit. I grab one of my heels in my hands as rage boils inside me. I¡¯m going to use it on him. How dare he grab me like that?


    Suddenly a sleek car rolls up next to me. I must look like a maniac, running in the street at this hour with my shoes off.


    ¡°Mel, what¡¯s the matter?¡±


    The sound of his voice startles me so much that I almost forget why I¡¯m so pissed off. Tommy looks at me through the rolled-down window, and I feel a surge of triumph. I point toward the rapidly disappearing man.


    ¡°Get him!¡±


    Without a word, Tommy floors the gas pedal. The car screams on the pavement, kicking up clouds of dust as he aims it straight for the guy, who sprints harder. It swerves onto the sidewalk, cutting him off as I catch up to them.


    The man jumps over the hood, but Tommy gets out and tackles the guy. They fall to the ground with a sickening thud. For a moment I¡¯m actually worried. The thief is a lot bigger. They struggle on the ground and Tommy takes something metallic from his waist-a knife. His right hand makes a violent movement into the thief¡¯s barrel-like chest. He does it at least three of four times. It sounds as if he¡¯s stabbing a melon. Stabbing. The man¡¯s screams quickly fade and Tommy¡¯s blue sleeve streams with dark, red blood. The man¡¯s shirt is soaked with it and his head falls to the floor, blood bubbling from his lips.


    God! What did he-what did he do?


    Tommy wrenches it out of the man¡¯s side: a knife with something that looks like jam all over it, but of course it¡¯s not strawberry jam. It¡¯s blood. It¡¯s fucking blood, and the man¡¯s not moving anymore.


    ¡°What did he do, rob you?¡± he asks in a conversational tone, as if we were sitting across from each other at dinner. ¡°Ah, found it.¡± He finds the stack of cash near the man¡¯s feet.


    My lungs are too tight and I feel as if I¡¯m going to faint. The man-he¡¯s not moving. What just happened? Tommy wipes the de clean on the man¡¯s trousers and takes the cash with his dripping hands.


    He killed him with that knife. He stabbed him to death. I didn¡¯t want that. I didn¡¯t ask him to do that.


    Tommy turns to me with a grin. ¡°Come here, hon. It¡¯s all right. You¡¯re lucky I was watching over you.¡±


    Lucky?


    ¡°Get away from me!¡±


    My foot slips on something as I take off in the other direction, tears streaming down my face. Why couldn¡¯t I just go home and cut my losses? The man-his face, the gashes on his chest, and the way Tommy sunk the de right underneath his ribs, the horrible, gurgling sound he made. I¡¯ve just witnessed a murder. Holy shit.


    I stop to throw up on the sidewalk, my guts heaving over and over. What should I do? Should I call the police?


    And risk the same thing happening to me once he finds out I ratted on him?


    I take the subway home in a sort of numb shock. Horror reverberates through me until I shut it down, refusing to believe anything happened.


    ¡°You¡¯re bleeding.¡±


    A cop talks to me as I take my stop. I can barely think with all the blood rushing to my brain. Can he see the guilt on my face? He frowns at me. Oh fuck. He already knows. Someone saw and told the cops that I was on the subway.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re bleeding.¡±


    Did some of the man¡¯s blood get on me? No, that¡¯s impossible. Still, I look at my hands. They¡¯re bare. My face tickles with something and I swipe at it. Blood smears all over my fingers.


    ¡°Did you lose your shoes?¡±


    I look down at my dirty bare feet and feel another stab of anxiety.


    Just get out of here.


    ¡°Um, yeah.¡±


    I move past him, hoping that he thinks I¡¯m some sort of harmless junkie and not an aplice to murder, which is what I really am.


    What do I do?


    I limp up the steps out of the subway, my heart still hammering with the cop encounter. It¡¯s sote and I¡¯m fucking tired. I don¡¯t really think all of that happened anyway. There¡¯s just no way it did. This is all some crazy, bizarre dream because I don¡¯t get enough sleep, that¡¯s all.


    A lump the size of a tennis ball swells in my throat when I see his car, parked just outside my brownstone.


    He followed me here? Shit! What if he¡¯s here to silence me?


    ¡°Mnie.¡±


    My ragged scream surprises even me, and a pair of hands take my shoulders and give me a little shake. It¡¯s Tommy. His fingers bite into my shoulders and my screams give way to panicked breaths.


    ¡°Maddon, you¡¯re hurt. What did that asshole do to you?¡±


    I cringe as he lifts his hands to my head, but he¡¯s surprisingly gentle. It¡¯s strange to see his eyes knitted with concern when only a half hour ago they were nk while he stabbed someone to death. Fingers touch the wound on my face as he assesses it.


    ¡°Let go of me!¡±


    Tommy¡¯s eyes are vivid against the dark. The Adam¡¯s apple sticking from his throat bobs a little and he takes his hands away from my face. His voice drops even lower. ¡°Why did you run away from me?¡±


    I open my mouth to scream for help, but all I manage is a weak little whimper. A line of nausea pours in my mouth.


    ¡°Oh no, no, no. Don¡¯t be like that.¡±


    ¡°L-like what?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be afraid of me.¡± He rubs my shoulder, which is knotted like a rock. ¡°I don¡¯t want you to be like the others.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re out of your fucking mind,¡± I say in a trembling voice. ¡°You killed that guy when anyone could have seen us-¡±


    ¡°But nobody saw us. I¡¯m a professional, you know.¡±


    A wide smile spreads over his face, and a sh of anger momentarily shoves aside my fear.


    ¡°That¡¯s not the fucking point!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not?¡± he says, moving in closer. ¡°Then what is it, sweetie?¡±


    That fucking name.


    ¡°You¡¯re crazy. You killed a man who-¡±


    ¡°-stole from us,¡± he interjects in a hard voice. ¡°I promise you, he knew what would happen. He got what wasing to him, and you got your money back.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to be involved in this shit!¡±


    My yells ring down the street, and in the distance I see someone peek their head out of their brownstone. His face tightens and he grabs my elbow none too gently, dragging me to the side of the house. The porch light from my brownstone flicks on, and I flinch from the suddenly bright re. He utters a swear and drags us into the shadows.


    It scares me, seeing his face all half-hidden like that. The gravelly, rough edge in his voice makes my skin cold.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, sweetheart, but you are involved. Whether you like it or not.¡±


    ¡°But-!¡±


    ¡°Enough,¡± he says in a suddenly tense voice. ¡°Don¡¯t fucking talk about it here.¡±


    I flinch from the sound of his voice, and his fingers turn my jaw so that I¡¯m facing him.


    ¡°I-I swear I won¡¯t. Please, just don¡¯t-don¡¯t hurt me!¡±


    I don¡¯t even care about the pathetic noises I make. His eyes ze at me, and he leans forward almost as if he¡¯s going to kiss me. His fingers scorch my skin, like flesh on me. It¡¯s as though I¡¯m a puppet in hisplete control.


    ¡°The more you beg me, the more I want to.¡±


    Jesus. What the hell is wrong with him?


    It seems like a millennium before Tommy finally backs away from me, his face taut with rage. He reaches inside his jacket and pulls out the envelope of cash, giving it back to me roughly. Then he bends down and straightens, my shoes dangling from his fingers.


    ¡°Th-thanks.¡±


    I reach out for them, but he pulls them just out of my reach with a small grin. That mischievous look is back on his face.


    ¡°Go out with me Saturday night.¡±


    My jaw drops. He can¡¯t seriously think I¡¯d have a remote interest in him, especially after tonight.Exclusive ? material by N?(/v)elDrama.Org.


    ¡°Tommy, please.¡±


    I lunge for my shoes and he finally lets me take them.


    ¡°Please what?¡± His arms cross over his chest, and I notice the bloodstains on his sleeves.


    ¡°You killed him.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I did.¡±


    It couldn¡¯t be iner that he doesn¡¯t give a shit.


    ¡°He knew what would happen if he was caught.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t have to do it!¡±


    ¡°I know I didn¡¯t,¡± he says as if I thanked him. ¡°I wanted to.¡±


    The shadows on his face move, reminding me of spiders.


    ¡°What did you do with him?¡± I can¡¯t even say it. What did you do with his body?


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry your pretty little head about it.¡± He slowly uncrosses his arms and grabs my arm. ¡°Mnie, you need to keep this to yourself. Don¡¯t tell your dad, your fucking girlfriends, no one. Understand?¡±


    Like I¡¯d tell anyone. I wrench my arm out of his grasp, my hands shaking slightly. ¡°I won¡¯t.¡±


    The oily tone returns to his voice. ¡°You know, some would say you owed me a favor.¡±


    I turn my back on him.


    ¡°Hey.¡±


    Something in his voice makes me turn around. Maybe it¡¯s a small twinge of whatever it was that drove him to stab someone to death tonight.


    I turn around and a slow smile spreads on his face. ¡°You didn¡¯t answer my question about Saturday.¡±


    Part of me wants to say yes, just to appease whatever crush this guy thinks he has on me. Saying yes could be dangerous. He¡¯ll want more. They always want more. Although Tommy has never once insulted me for turning him down, pressure builds inside my stomach and my heart races. The more I reject him, the angrier he¡¯ll get. Right? The thought of being alone with him terrifies me. I won¡¯t be able to say no to whatever he¡¯ll want.


    I can¡¯t.


    ¡°Sorry, Tommy. The answer is still no.¡±


    His face is frozen in that pleasant expression. You would never guess that I just rejected him.


    ¡°Good night then.¡±

 4-5

    Blood. Screaming. Frightening images cycle in front of my eyes as I toss in bed. I just can¡¯t get them out of my head, and my heart flutters and squeezes painfully when I think about the stabbing sounds the knife made. The cover is held tight over my head as I curl into a ball, shaking.


    What if he¡¯s still out there, watching me?


    I¡¯m too terrified to look.


    Jack Vittorio, the head of the family, told me to call him if I ever had any problems. God, I can just imagine that conversation.


    ¡°One of your men killed a guy who robbed me.¡±


    ¡°¡­So?¡±


    Yeah, that¡¯s probably what he¡¯d say.


    I manage a smallugh and then I feel sickened with myself. Shouldn¡¯t I be in hysterics about what happenedst night? Maybe I¡¯ve just been around this shit for too long.


    That disturbs me. It¡¯s almost as if I¡¯m bing one of them.


    I¡¯m Portuguese. My whole family is. Dad emigrated from Portugal when he was three with his six siblings, and Mom when she was a teenager. I inherited my curly hair from her and my short stature from both. I always hated it, being shorter than everyone else with a full head of curly ck hair, but we moved to a neighborhood where everyone down the block was Portuguese. All the stores were Portuguese and everyone spoke Portuguese, and after eighteen years of this I was ready to experience something different.


    I wanted to be the first in our family to go to college. I was going to be a doctor, because I came from a family of waiters and maids, and I didn¡¯t want the same thing for my future. Years of watching my mother and father break their backs all day made me vow to strive for something greater, but they didn¡¯t expect much from me. I did. I knew I could do whatever I wanted.


    Just like my dad thought he knew he could run a restaurant.


    We all know how that ended.


    Dad was old, and I didn¡¯t want to see him struggle with standing for over eight hours in the club, so I took over the management. I had to take care of my dad. He and I have a good rtionship, and I love him more than I love my own dreams.


    I guess trying to escape your fate is futile.


    Sometimes, when I¡¯m in bed, I cry myself to sleep about it. The thought of never going to college and being trapped in this life forever suffocates me. I have too much ambition to be stuck here forever.


    ¡°Coffee?¡±


    My dad sits at the small kitchen table, watching me with wrinkled eyes as I shuffle into the kitchen. It¡¯s three o¡¯ clock in the afternoon. Despite the fact that I was dead tired, it took hours to fall asleep. I kept thinking of Tommy, and wondered what happened to the body and whether I¡¯d be hauled in for questioning any second. I half expect a pair of cops to kick down my door at any second, guns aloft, and scream, ¡°FREEZE!¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I croak.


    I take the cup of coffee and wrench open the fridge, only to find it bare. No milk. Fuck¡¯s sake. I work such long hours at the club, the least they could do is keep it stocked.


    Mom walks in, looking aghast. ¡°Mnie, you look so pale. Did you eat yet?¡±


    ¡°No, Mom.¡±


    ¡°Do you want me to make you something?¡±


    ¡°Um-it¡¯s okay.¡±


    She peers at me for a few seconds and then immediately bustles to the kitchen, pushing me aside to make me-breakfast. ¡°Want some chorizo?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, all right.¡±


    The sausage hisses in the pan as I slump down on the kitchen table across from Dad, fingers white around my mug of coffee.


    ¡°Everything okay at the club?¡±


    I look into my Dad¡¯s pinched eyes and give him a reassuring smile. He¡¯s always worried about me. He has no idea how bad it is, but he always tells me how guilty he feels for letting me work in the club. We can¡¯t just sell it now that we¡¯re partners with the fucking Mafia, so I¡¯m in it for the long haul because I don¡¯t trust anyone enough to leave the business to.


    But he really has no fucking idea how dangerous these people are.


    ¡°Fine.¡±


    ¡°Do you ever meet anyone at the club?¡± My mother¡¯s voice suddenly pipes up.


    I raise my head blearily. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    She gives me a furtive smile. ¡°You meet any nice boys? Portuguese boys?¡± she adds hopefully.


    Iugh humorlessly. If only they knew the sort of men who were interested in me. ¡°I don¡¯t want to date a Portuguese guy.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with that?¡±


    I shrug. I really don¡¯t want to date ethnic guys, even if they¡¯re from my own culture. They¡¯re always overly traditional and religious, and I¡¯m not. Nope, just give me a run-of-the-mill mixed American guy.


    Tommy¡¯s face burns in my head and I bite my lip.


    Not him.


    Plus, it¡¯s always awkward to date men when you live at home. My parents always want to know where the hell I am, even though I¡¯m twenty-two. It¡¯s a Portuguese thing. Daughters never really get free rein. I¡¯ve never stayed over at a guy¡¯s house for that reason, and I¡¯m running out of believable lies to tell my mother why I¡¯m outte. I just don¡¯t need my parents to know about my sex life. I love them, even though they make me feel stifled sometimes. I¡¯m definitely ready to move out and have my own independence, but I don¡¯t know when the hell that¡¯ll be. It¡¯s not as if I¡¯m really making any money for myself. It¡¯s all for them.


    A swell of sadness rises in my throat as Mom puts the te of chorizo and papo secos in front of me, and I take a small piece of the red sausage and the spiciness burns my tongue.


    ¡°You look a bit depressed, Mnie,¡± my dad says in a low voice, so that Mom can¡¯t hear. ¡°What¡¯s the matter? Is it the club?¡±


    ¡°No!¡±


    I won¡¯t dump my problems on Dad. He wouldn¡¯t be able to handle the club. Those bastards would chew him up and spit him out because he¡¯s a nice guy. I¡¯m all he¡¯s got.


    ¡°I just-¡±


    He looks at me, his eyes watering like he already knows. ¡°You think I don¡¯t notice how hard you work? I¡¯m so proud of you. You¡¯re such a good daughter. I don¡¯t deserve it.¡±


    His arm wraps around my shoulders and he buries his face in his hand, apparently ovee with tears. My heart breaks as he clutches my shoulder.


    ¡°Dad, it¡¯s okay. I don¡¯t mind.¡±


    ¡°Miguel!¡± Mom¡¯s round eyes fix on my father and she makes pping motions with her hands toward me. I slide out of the chair, my heart clenching painfully as I move away from the table. Mom wraps her arms around his back as he sobs. His voice follows me all the way to my bedroom.


    I can¡¯t stay in this tiny apartment right now. It¡¯s too depressing.


    Quickly I pull on clothes and grab my purse. I¡¯ll take a walk down Central Park, anything to avoid this right now. I feel guilted into working for them, and, with no life of my own, resentment rears its ugly head pretty often these days.


    ¡°Bye, I¡¯m going out.¡±


    ¡°When will you be back?¡±


    I don¡¯t bother answering as I close the door behind them. My pocket buzzes and I answer the phone. A girlish voice cracks in my ear.


    ¡°Hey, Mel. Where are you? Do you want to meet up?¡±Exclusive ? material by N?(/v)elDrama.Org.


    ¡°Sure,¡± I say, slightly out of breath as I hurry down the stairs. ¡°Where?¡±

 4-6

    From the outside, this deli looks pretty unremarkable. It¡¯s a white building with faded red cursive letters: Centanni¡¯s Pork Store. The outdoors has several flimsy-looking tables and chairs, where there are a few men milling around.


    She wants to meet at this ce?


    This hardly looks like the sort of ce that would attract her attention. Michelle¡¯s all about fusion restaurants and the hipster scene. This is mom-and-pop. Boring.


    I walk toward the door, trying to reserve judgment as I pass a man my age seated at a table. Someone else walks right in front of my path and blocks the door as I reach out for the handle. What the fuck?


    A dark-skinned Italian crosses his arms, looking down at me. It¡¯s Vince. He looks at me unsmilingly. ¡°Fancy seeing you here.¡±


    The sight of him today makes my blood run cold. The revulsion in my stomach builds like the collection of saliva in your mouth right before you vomit. The guy¡¯s blood was all over, running in the streets. I ampletely ovee with terror. I must be still in shock-or traumatized, or something.


    Why are they here? I look at the tables outside, and I see Joe there, lounging in a chair.


    His frown deepens. ¡°We don¡¯t talk business at the deli, if that¡¯s why you¡¯re here.¡±


    I keep my eyes down. ¡°I¡¯m just here to meet a friend of mine. Michelle.¡±


    A smile lights his face when I mention her name, and he steps aside.


    Creep.


    ¡°Nice broad. You could learn a thing or two from her.¡±


    Then the surge of anger returns.


    ¡°Oh, fuck off.¡±


    I don¡¯t like being told to be nice, especially from this asshole. I¡¯ll be angry if I fucking want to be angry.


    His face twists into a deadly smirk as the men behind him crack up, but I step aside and shove the door open.


    You¡¯re still ying with fire, talking to them like that.


    My intestines feel like live snakes. I really need to learn to bring my temper under control. I shouldn¡¯t insult them, as much as they deserve it. This must be a goddamn hangout for these mobster bastards. Why the hell did she want me toe here? Christ, this is thest thing I need.


    I walk inside the brightly lit, dingy deli. It¡¯s a bit cold inside, and right away I notice Michelle sitting at a table, looking kind of guilty. Her wan face turns toward me, her hair a bit more yellow in the weak lighting.


    ¡°Want a sandwich?¡±


    She has a half-eaten Italian sub on a paper te, but I shake my head. ¡°Nah. I just wanted to get out of the apartment.¡± I look around, and it¡¯s pretty deserted. My voice drops to a whisper. ¡°Why did you bring me here? You know I hate these guys.¡±


    Her face falls. ¡°Why do you hate them so much? I know that they kind of have you and your dad in a bind, but they¡¯re not so bad, are they?¡±


    ¡°You have no idea.¡± I think of the body Tommy disposed of yesterday. If she only knew.


    Curious blue eyes widen and a nervous grin hitches on her face. ¡°Oooh, tell me!¡±


    God, I almost want to. Part of me wants to talk about it with someone; therger, cowardly part wants to keep it to myself. Tommy warned me. He wasn¡¯t coy about it, either. No, I have to keep my trap shut about all of it.


    There¡¯s just way too much at stake.


    ¡°It¡¯s not the sorta thing you gossip about.¡±


    She grins. ¡°It sounds like just the sort of thing you gossip about.¡±


    I shake my head violently. ¡°No way. I¡¯m not going there.¡±


    Her face crumples in disappointment and then she looks down at her sandwich, apparently embarrassed. ¡°Listen, I wanted to ask for your help. I was wondering if I could go in the back after tonight¡¯s shift and have drinks with the guys.¡±


    I shrug. ¡°Why do you need me?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s this guy I really like. His name¡¯s Ben-¡±


    ¡°Oh God.¡± I know where this is going already.


    ¡°No, listen. He¡¯s really sweet-¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah,¡± I snort. ¡°Sweet.¡±This is property ? of N?velDrama.Org.


    They¡¯re sweet right up until they confront a thief and stab him to death. Yup.


    ¡°He¡¯s hot, and I want him. They never like it when I¡¯m back there by myself, but if you stayed there after work-¡±


    Frustration builds in my chest and I wonder how I ever found this girl smart. I want to scream. ¡°Michelle, why the hell do you want to date these guys? They¡¯re not nice guys. Do you realize what they do for a living? Have you read the newstely?¡±


    Her eyes crinkle with amusement. ¡°Geez, will you rx? I just want to go on a few dates, what¡¯s the big deal?¡±


    I stare at her.


    Fine.


    Let her go on a few dates, and she¡¯ll see what they¡¯re really like.


    ¡°All right, fine.¡±


    Michelle¡¯s face lights up and she leans over the table, squealing. ¡°Thank you!¡±


    ¡°Can we get out of here now?¡±


    Sheughs. ¡°¡®Course. Where do you want to go?¡±


    Anywhere, as long as it¡¯s not here.


    I stand up stiffly as I notice movement in the back. Suddenly the door flies open, bringing a gust of cold air into the cafe.


    Oh no.


    My head swims with dizziness as I recognize the man behind the counter. He grinned at me over the body of the man he just killed. Tommy stands behind the counter, his white sleeves rolled up and his arms shining as if he recently washed them. His normally handsome face looks ugly. His eyebrows are knitted; his face wears a grimace, his eyes shrouded. It makes me back against the table I just got up from. He looks as if he¡¯ll kill the first person he sees. Then he notices me standing there, and the look evaporates from his face. It¡¯s so fast that I think I imagined it.


    ¡°Mnie?¡± His eyes widen as he takes in Michelle¡¯s appearance, too. ¡°Mnie and Michelle, what a nice surprise.¡±


    It¡¯s not really that nice.


    Michelle beams at him, but my guts feel as though they¡¯re made of steel. Unyielding. Rigid.


    I give him a reluctant smile. ¡°Hi.¡±


    ¡°Did youe here to see me?¡±


    What should I say?


    My heart jumps when I hear the door to the deli open and close. Michelle disappears behind it, smirking at me behind the ss.


    Bitch.


    When I turn around, Tommy stands right in front of me, his eyes burning. ¡°What¡¯s the matter, sweetheart? Cat got your tongue?¡±


    Last night seemed like a hazy, absurd dream, but now that I¡¯m confronted with him again, I am sick with fear. The nausea creeps up my throat,bined with the thrill of being so close to him. I¡¯m scared. I¡¯m sick. It¡¯s so confusing to my system.


    His eyes harden, his voice dropping low enough so that it¡¯s hard to hear him. ¡°You haven¡¯t been talking to anyone, have you?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I say, finally finding my voice. ¡°I¡¯m only here because Michelle wanted a favor. I didn¡¯t know all of you would be here.¡±


    The hazel eyes regard me suspiciously for a moment, but then the dimples curve into his cheeks. ¡°What kind of favor?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s into Ben.¡±


    His eyes sh. ¡°Hm.¡±


    ¡°She wants to hang out in the back of the club after her shift is done. Do you think he¡¯ll be there?¡±


    Tommy¡¯s eyes close like shutters on windows, and his jaw tenses. ¡°Maybe. I don¡¯t know.¡±


    The energying off Tommy shifts. He always feels warm and energetic, but the moment I mentioned Ben¡¯s name, I feel him pull away from me.


    ¡°We haven¡¯t seen him in a couple days, so we¡¯re assuming the worst,¡± he exins.


    I have no love for these Mafia people, but even I can grudgingly admit that Ben always treated me decently. He never gave me shit or manhandled me. I liked him a lot more than Vincent, that¡¯s for sure.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    The sad smile on his face tugs at my heartstrings, and he makes a little shrug as if it¡¯s no big deal. His eyes suddenly shine with amusement.


    ¡°Why are you so quiet?¡±


    Well, no shit I¡¯m quiet. I only just watched you rip open someone the night before.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t sleep very wellst night.¡±


    ¡°Oh? Howe?¡±


    My eyes bug out at him. Is he fucking with me?


    ¡°Because of what happened.¡±


    His face is as nk as ever, but he gives me a nod as though he understands what I¡¯m going through.


    ¡°It¡¯ll be all right, hon. Sometimes these things happen. You¡¯ll get used to it.¡±


    What?


    Then he touches my shoulder in what I¡¯m sure he thinks is a consoling gesture, but it just feels like a vition.


    I don¡¯t want to get used to it.


    Another loud bang makes me jump as the back door flies open.


    A young guy sticks his head out. ¡°Tommy, I need you, man-ah, hello.¡± He breaks midsentence to greet me, his round face blushing.


    Tommy turns toward him, seething. His face flushes with color and he looks as if he¡¯s on the verge of exploding.


    ¡°I-I was just leaving. Bye, Tommy.¡±


    Eager to get out of that ce, I practically sprint across the cafe and as I burst out of the door, I get one final shot of Tommy, red in the face, screaming.


    ¡°I was fucking talking to her, you dumb-ass!¡±


    The door ms shut, and I nearly crash into Vincent.


    ¡°Whoa!¡±


    I sidestep him and lunge for Michelle, who sits beside Joe. He looks at me with thinly veiled contempt. I grab Michelle¡¯s hand and yank her upright. ¡°Come on.¡±


    ¡°All right-ow, you¡¯re hurting me!¡± She twists around and waves at him. ¡°Bye, Joe!¡±


    ¡°See you.¡±


    Michelle stumbles as I walk forward. Her face narrows in annoyance.


    ¡°Jesus! What the hell has gotten into you?¡±


    I can¡¯t tell her. She gets just one look at my frightened face and shuts up. My pace quickens and blood rushes to my head.


    God, I just want to get out of this. I can¡¯t stand it.

 4-7

    The club has a live rock band, so I¡¯m in a better mood than usual. Sales are up and the liquor keeps flowing. Michelle shakes her ass on the dance floor with the other girls, and I wander around, my boots marking up the floors. It¡¯s almost four a. m. when we close for the day, and my ankles ache. Michelle slides up to me hopefully as thest customers trickle out.


    I told her what I heard from Tommy about Ben, but she still insisted oning. I hoped she would cancel her ns. No such luck.Exclusive ? material by N?(/v)elDrama.Org.


    She adjusts her low crop top and brushes her long, streaked hair, giving me a wide smile that I¡¯m sure will make the bastards melt.


    ¡°Let¡¯s just have a good time,¡± she says, touching my arm.


    Fat chance.


    There are butterflies fluttering in my stomach because I know he¡¯ll be there. I don¡¯t care what she wants; I¡¯m not sticking around for more than an hour. My stomach feels like lead as I open the door to the Employees Only area and we walk around the deserted lockers, passing by my office, which is crammed with mobsters. Their voices boom through the door and raise the hairs on my arm. I open the door. Heat burns my face as I watch them in there, drinking my alcohol, putting their shoes on my coffee table as if they fucking own the ce-own me.


    It¡¯s as if we stumbled upon a scene. There¡¯s a slight haze of smoke in the air from the cigarettes. It curls around their fingers and blows upward. Dark suits stand everywhere. In the corner, I see an exchange of something-bricks of cocaine. Vince wraps his arm around Jack¡¯s shoulder, and through the throng of people I see stacks of cash slowly being counted. Michelle¡¯s wide eyes take it all in.


    I freeze in the doorway, my heart stalling in my chest.


    We¡¯re not supposed to be here.


    Tommy¡¯s smiling face appears out of nowhere. He wears a light-blue shirt and a ck suit, which is loosely buttoned. I catch a glimpse of a broad chest and my eyes travel up his neck, which is covered with short, brown stubble. My neck feels hot for some reason I can¡¯t understand, and suddenly stacks of cash are picked up-shoved quickly into a duffel bag.


    He takes my arm before I can pull away, and the feeling of his coarse fingers on the sensitive skin of my wrist makes me tremble violently.


    What the hell is that?


    ¡°Please,e in.¡±


    I resent being invited into my own fucking office, but the sight of all these people seems to have temporarily robbed me of breath. It¡¯s like being dumped into shark-infested waters. Sooner orter they¡¯ll notice my presence and tear me to shreds. I can¡¯t mouth off to them, not while the boss is standing right there. Tommy grins as he leads me to the couch, as if he¡¯s conscious of that fact.


    The ck leather squeaks as I settle in, Tommy sliding in right next to me. He¡¯s way too close and fear slowly pricks over my skin.


    Fucking hell, what did I get myself into?


    Michelle presses her palms together eagerly. ¡°So, is Bening over tonight?¡±


    A stony expression hardens over his smiling face. ¡°I don¡¯t know where he is.¡±


    Blonde hair dangles over the coffee table as she leans in, giving the men across the room a fantastic view of her cleavage. They grin at her behind her head.


    ¡°He¡¯s really missing?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± He takes a sip of his scotch. ¡°Do youdies want a drink?¡±


    This is my opportunity to leave.


    ¡°Um-maybe we should get going, Michelle.¡±


    Tommy¡¯s face fallsically. ¡°C¡¯mon, you just got here!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m staying,¡± she says in a chipper voice. She takes a bottle from the table and pours herself a drink, and then she stands up, giving me a roguish wink.


    ¡°Ben won¡¯t be here, though.¡±


    ¡°Eh, that¡¯s okay.¡±


    Fuck you! Don¡¯t leave me here with this psycho!


    That suits Tommy fine, and he casually spreads his arm behind my head.


    Jesus. Fuck.


    I lean forward and grab the drink Tommy passes me, taking a huge gulp. If I¡¯m going to stay here and hang out with this guy, I¡¯ll need to be drunk. My heart feels as though it¡¯s going to split from all the jostling in my chest. Jesus, it almost hurts. As the alcohol burns down, I feel my nerves quell almost instantly.


    ¡°You know, you were very quiet at the deli, and you¡¯re quiet again now. It¡¯s unlike you. No insults, no, ¡®Fuck off, Tommy.¡¯ It¡¯s a nice change, but what gives?¡±


    ¡°There are a lot of people in here.¡±


    He snorts. ¡°That never stopped you before.¡±


    Fingers lightly stroke the top of my shoulder and I tense all over. It¡¯s confusing. The heat alcohol burns my throat, spreading warmth all over my skin as a light dizziness takes me over. It¡¯s pleasant. It suddenly urs to me why I felt so confused in the deli. There was fear, yes, but also excitement. Somewhere, deep down in some fucked-up, dark recess, I¡¯m attracted to him. I concentrate on how it feels when he touches me. Then he chuckles, and the sound goes right through my body. An electrical shock runs through my arm, across my breasts, all the way down to the heat growing between my legs.


    He stabbed someone to death right in front of you.


    When I don¡¯t pull away, his fingers continue their slow, circr massage. I can hardly think of anything else except how sensual it is. It¡¯s as if he¡¯s running his fingers up my thighs. My fingers tighten on the ss. I lean forward and put it down.


    I¡¯ve got to get out of here.


    ¡°I should go.¡±


    His fingers curl over my shoulder. ¡°No, stay!¡±


    ¡°I really shouldn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Just have one drink with me,¡± he says with a friendly smile. ¡°Besides, you need to watch your friend.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    I snap my head around and my vision seems to take a while to slow down and readjust. Then I see Michelle wearing a coy smile as she leans over Vincent¡¯s desk. He eyes her with a small smile.


    ¡°Oh fuck,¡± I swear, thoughts of leaving immediately abandoned. ¡°Is she out of her mind?¡±


    Tommy¡¯s body shakes with a chuckle. ¡°I know his wife, and she¡¯d fucking lose it if she saw anyone hitting on her husband.¡± He shakes his head. ¡°She¡¯s wasting her time.¡±


    ¡°I just don¡¯t understand why she¡¯d want to date any of these assholes.¡±


    Shit.


    ¡°Including me?¡±


    I turn my head sideways, horrified.


    ¡°Um-¡±


    Heughs his head off, and a warm flutter fills my stomach when he smiles and winks at me.


    Then he squeezes my shoulder.


    ¡°So what do you do outside of work?¡±


    My eyes narrow under my slightly buzzed haze. He¡¯s trying to figure out what I like so that maybe we¡¯ll have something inmon and maybe I¡¯ll want to go out with him and we could do that fun thing we have inmon together.


    No.


    ¡°Not much. This job takes up all my time.¡±


    Depressingly true.


    ¡°Why do you work so much?¡±


    I give him a sharp look, trying to gauge if he¡¯s being sarcastic. His face is smoothed over. Maybe he really doesn¡¯t have a clue.


    ¡°My dad is too old to deal with all this shit, so I fill in for him every day.¡±


    He rests his drink on his knee, tracing the rim of the ss with a finger. It stops. ¡°That¡¯s it? You¡¯re just helping your old man?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°Huh.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    He gives me a look. ¡°I just figured you owed Jack, or something. I didn¡¯t realize-¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not doing this for myself. I¡¯m doing it for my father, who could not handle the things you do. I can barely handle it.¡±


    My heart thumps resolutely against my chest, and I swipe the ss from the table to take another huge gulp.


    ¡°Then what do you want to do?¡±


    ¡°I want to go to college.¡± It bursts out of my mouth as if I¡¯ve been waiting for someone to ask me that. ¡°I want to make something of myself, maybe medical school, but that¡¯ll never happen at this rate.¡±


    The couch squeaks as Tommy leans in, and this time his whole hand grabs my shoulder and his chest moves in until his face is centimeters from mine. I¡¯m suddenly aware that the room is almost empty, and most people are mingling outside.


    His breath billows over my lips. The drink makes my thoughts descend into a haze of desire. When was thest time I felt like this around someone? The alcohol strips away all pretenses, and I can¡¯t help but sit here and hope that he doesn¡¯t turn my face toward him. I can¡¯t look at him because I¡¯m afraid that I¡¯ll kiss him.


    ¡°I could handle it for you, you know. Just say the word, and you could do all of those things. You would never have to visit the club again.¡±


    A shakyugh leaves my lips. ¡°Yeah, and I¡¯m sure you¡¯d do it out of the kindness of your heart.¡±


    He smiles darkly. ¡°Well, I would need some kind ofpensation.¡±


    I stare at the wall across the room, determined not to look at him again. He¡¯s way too close. Thest person leaves the room and all I can hear are my heartbeats.


    Jesus Christ, someone help me.


    ¡°Like what?¡±


    The sound of a ss being ced on a coffee table makes me jump, but he pulls me in closer. Closer and closer, until his lips are tickling my ear. I just let him. It feels incredible. The thrill builds up and builds up, until I¡¯m on the verge of doing something incredibly stupid. What¡¯s wrong with me?


    His voice hisses in my ear and the effect it has on my body is rming. A hot line burns all the way from my neck to the wetness gathering between my legs.


    ¡°I¡¯d skim off the top, of course. It¡¯s only fair, considering the work I¡¯d be doing.¡± Then his voice dips lower with a small chuckle and he reaches over, brushing the hair from my shoulder. His hand palms my cheek. ¡°And I¡¯d also need something else.¡±


    Oh God. Oh my fucking God.


    I¡¯m still staring straight ahead. ¡°What-what else?¡±


    He applies a bit of pressure to turn my head, and I can¡¯t fight it anymore. It¡¯s inevitable. The moment I took that drink in my hands and decided to stay, I was done for. There¡¯s a moment where I can almost taste his breath, and then his lips crush against mine. I¡¯ve lost my ability to breathe because the pleasure filling my chest is so unexpected and warm. I lean into his body, which is saturated with an intoxicating smell. It¡¯s like cigars, cedar, and something wholly male that makes my mouth water. Then his hands, oh God, they yank me onto hisp and I still can¡¯t breathe. His lips swallow every breath. It¡¯s as if he¡¯s waited for this for weeks, and now that he has me, he¡¯s never letting go. His tongue suddenly pushes through my mouth, and I¡¯m so lost in the sensation that I don¡¯t notice that my arms wrap around his head. My fingers dig into his hair and I pull his neck down toward me. Electrical shocks continue to shoot through my spine, singeing every nerve near the skin¡¯s surface. Rough hands reach up to my head, fingernails grazing my skin. They curl into my hair and yank, making me bend over his arm. Our lips break apart and I gasp at the sudden, sharp pain, but then his hand grabs my chest, squeezing my breast.


    Jesus Christ. I¡¯ve never been groped like that without warning. They would always ask first, which somehow always made it feel less thrilling. I open my mouth in a gasp and he looks down at me with a confident smirk, his eyes hot for me. Still smiling, he kisses me again, his thumb circling my nipple. Even through the tank top and bra, it feels incredible.


    My back sinks into the cushions and I feel a growing sense of horror and excitement as he rips off his jacket, hurling it down the couch. Then there¡¯s a noise at the door and I freeze. Tommy makes a violent movement and grabs something metallic at his ankle. He aims it at the door, at the person standing in the doorway.


    ¡°I¡¯ll shoot you in five seconds if you don¡¯t get the fuck out.¡±


    ¡°Jesus Christ, Tommy!¡±


    My heart beats in my throat as I watch him lower the gun. The door ms shut, and he reces it in his ankle. The desire still hums in my body, but now there¡¯s fear, too. He turns toward me, smiling, and leans down, but I hold his shoulders back.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    His smile twitches.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. It¡¯s just-I¡¯m too-¡±


    Overwhelmed.


    A frustrated sigh leaves his mouth, and I look down, noticing his erection straining his pants. The sight of it makes my heart m into my chest.


    ¡°You make me so fucking crazy.¡±


    I sit up on the couch next to him, and he tries to draw me in again for another kiss, but I stop him by cing both hands on his chest.


    His brows furrow.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got to go.¡± I stand up from the couch, face flushing.


    ¡°Are you fucking kidding me?¡± He yells as he stands up. ¡°You kissed me back!¡±


    ¡°I-I know.¡± I swallow the guilt down as I look at his angry, frustrated face. He glowers at me and underneath that hard exterior; I think I see a bit of hurt feelings. My stomach caves in and I suddenly take a few steps toward him. I lift myself on my toes and my lips bump against his smooth cheek. He grabs my elbow when I turn away, and his eyes open again with a smoldering look, making me hot all over.


    ¡°Stay.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t.¡±


    I pull my arm out of his grasp, and I leave the office, trying to forget about the sad image of Tommy standing there alone.

 4-8

    TOMMY


    You know that feeling you got when you were a kid, when a toy you really wanted for a long time finally goes on sale, or you save enough money and you hold it in your hands for the first time? Imagine that feeling ripped to shreds. Maybe the toy is a piece of shit. Maybe it breaks on the first try.


    That¡¯s what I¡¯m going through right now.


    I had her. I almost fucking had her. She was in my arms, for Christ¡¯s sake. My fingers dug in her hair, and I tasted her sweet lips. I was savoring the moment, and then that prick opened the door and ruined everything. A man like me might not deserve a girl like her, but I had her in my arms. I wasn¡¯t going to let go for anything, but she got spooked and left me with this raging hard-on that won¡¯t go down. I¡¯ll be lucky if I ever get her alone now.


    Why the fuck did he walk in on us? The rest of the guys knew how badly I wanted her. My fists clench at my sides, and I wait until my erection is a distant memory before I burst out of the office. I weave around the lockers and reenter the quiet, dark club.


    A smattering ofughter draws my attention to the bar. Vince, Joe, and a few others are having drinks. Luckily for me, Jack already left. My eyes hot, I search for that douchebag among the guys crowded around the bar who keep gulping down shots.


    There he is.


    That asshole with the military-cut hair hangs over the bar, his mouth open inughter. Just the sound is enough to send heat toward my fists. It¡¯s as if he¡¯sughing at me.


    I know he probably isn¡¯t, but I¡¯ve always had a short fuse when ites to these things. If I feel slighted or insulted in the least, I go berserk. Mnie is the one exception. She hurls insults at me, and I don¡¯t feel like shooting somebody.


    Maybe because I¡¯m amused that a pint-sized girl would threaten to kick my ass if I ever talked to her again.


    In any case, walking in on me when I¡¯m with a girl feels like either the mistake of a dim-witted asshole, or a calcted, vengeful move to piss me off. My mind focuses on thetter, heat building up in my face as I think about him smirking right before he opened the door.


    Vince smiles at me, raising a ss as I walk past him, but I ignore the gesture. The asshole who walked in the room is just an associate. Associates don¡¯t have the same protection as a made member, so I¡¯m free to beat the shit out of him. The pressure builds behind my face as I walk closer, and he doesn¡¯t even see me when I walk behind him. I grab his thin neck and yank him off the barstool as a chorus of excited yells andughs explode around me.


    ¡°What the fuck-argh!¡±


    He stumbles backward and whirls around.


    ¡°You fucking stupid moron! I¡¯ve been trying to bang that broad for weeks!¡±


    Vince¡¯s, ¡°Oh fuck,¡± is clearly audible over the noise, and I re at him, warning him not to interrupt.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, all right? I didn¡¯t know you what you was doin¡¯.¡±


    Laughter erupts around me, but it grates on my nerves. ¡°What the fuck did you think we were doing? ying cards?¡±


    Vince suddenly appears behind the dumbass¡¯ back, grinning. He lifts his hand as if I¡¯m some kind of wild animal, and he¡¯s trying to calm me down. ¡°Tommy, rx.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, maybe you were talking!¡±


    ¡°Talking,¡± I repeat in a deadly voice as the rest of the guys scream withughter.


    His face twists in anger. ¡°It¡¯s my fault you couldn¡¯t getid?¡±


    Choruses of, ¡°Oh!¡± and scandalized yells ring around me in an ugly cacophony.


    The kid¡¯s mouth lifts in a smile, and suddenly I don¡¯t see him anymore. I just hear theughter sinking down inside me, like fuel to my rage. I want to shoot my gun into every openughing mouth. Dimly I feel Vince¡¯s heavy arm over my shoulder as heughs in my ear.Exclusive ? material by N?(/v)elDrama.Org.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to let him get away with that?¡± he says incredulously as everyone roars withughter. He lifts his head at the kid. ¡°Good for you, kid. Don¡¯t take shit from nobody.¡±


    Heughs and shakes my shoulders again. From the crowd, Joe gives me a look of disbelief, surprised by myck of reaction. The kid stares at me right in the eyes. And heughs.


    My fist smashes right into his open mouth, the jagged edges of his teeth sinking into my hand. His head rips to the side and teeth fly out of his mouth. I shove his back against the wall, and his head cracks the ster. With my left hand, I keep his body pinned. The other smashes in his face over and over again, the dull thuds making pping, meaty sounds. The guys grab my shoulders and try to pull me off him.


    ¡°Get the fuck off me!¡±


    The bastard falls limply to the floor, and only then do I realize that his nose is shattered. I bend down, wrestling off the guys trying to drag me away. I get in two more shots, his face whipping to the side with the dull thuds. Bright-red blood covers my hand like a glove. His face is like a shattered red egg. Suddenly the sounds return to my ears and I hear how deep I¡¯m breathing and a voice screams directly into my ear.


    ¡°What the fuck is the matter with you? Are you fucking stupid or what?¡±


    Someone, Vince, gives me a rough shove to my chest. The guy moans on the floor, surrounded by guys slowly picking him up.


    ¡°I¡¯ll fucking kill you!¡± I lunge toward him again, and Vince yanks my arms back.


    ¡°Will you stop it?¡±


    ¡°He insulted me.¡±


    Vince is beside himself with rage. His nostrils re as he screams in my face. ¡°He was breaking your balls!¡±


    My chest heaves and my bloody fist trembles from the adrenaline. The other men back away from me, refusing to make eye contact with me.


    ¡°He was being a jerk, and I put him in his fucking ce. I¡¯ve been working for Jack for a long time, Vince.¡± Then I raise my voice so that the others can hear me. ¡°I will not tolerate disrespect from anyone. I don¡¯t care who you are. I don¡¯t care about the rules.¡±


    He raises a finger at me. ¡°Watch it, Tommy. I know Jack likes you, but-¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll never be made,¡± I spit, hating him for reminding me of that. ¡°I know.¡±


    I want to bash in his pretty face until he looks like shit, too. Fuck them.


    ¡°I make more money than all of you assholesbined. If Jack ever bends the rules, he¡¯ll do it for me.¡±


    It¡¯s like uttering sphemy in a church. I expect a lightning bolt to strike me down at any moment. Vince approaches me, looking apprehensive. The warm weight of his arm across my shoulders used to make me feel like I belonged. How many times did Jack do the same thing as I was growing up? And yet no matter how many times I went to his house for Christmas, no matter how much money I made that bastard, I would never be a full member. All because of my Irish heritage. It¡¯s something I can¡¯t control, which makes it even more infuriating. I didn¡¯t choose my parents. Then the resentment burns my throat and lips, made even worse by guilt.


    ¡°Tommy, what¡¯s the matter with you?¡± he says, this time without hostility. ¡°You know how important you are to us, right?¡±


    ¡°Not important enough.¡±


    ¡°There are rules we must follow. You¡¯ve known about this for a long time, and you shouldn¡¯t take it out on that kid.¡±


    Fine, I¡¯ll admit that.


    I look at the little jerk-off hunched over the bar and a humorless smile hitches on my face. ¡°He ruined my chance with her.¡±


    His side shakes withughter. ¡°Jesus. I don¡¯t know what you see in that girl. Seriously.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, she¡¯s fucking beautiful-¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but she¡¯s rude as hell.¡±


    ¡°I just want to fuck her.¡±


    His deep, boomingughs echo in the club and he pounds my back. ¡°There are other easier broads out there!¡±


    I step outside Vince¡¯s arm. ¡°I don¡¯t want easy. I want her.¡±


    ¡°All right, fine. Let¡¯s go out for a drink, then.¡±


    I¡¯m not really in the mood. ¡°It¡¯s six a. m., Vince.¡±


    ¡°Breakfast, then.¡±


    Vince is one of my oldest friends. I was one of his groomsmen at his wedding. Fucking guy. Never thought he¡¯d get married. Anyway, I helped cover up the made guys he whacked for his girlfriend at the time, and for that reason he trusts me. He owes me.


    Right now I can¡¯t figure out whether he¡¯s genuinely trying to be my friend or whether he just wants me and my money on Jack¡¯s side.


    He smiles darkly, the shadows around his face making him look like a demon. ¡°C¡¯mon, Tommy.¡±


    ¡°All right.¡±


    My shoulder stings when he ps me, hard. Then he leaps back toward the others-Joe, Nicky, Paulie, and we all head out of the club.


    Fuck, it¡¯s still dark outside. The days just keep getting shorter and shorter, but the skyscrapers are lightening into a dull gray. The sun ising up.


    We walk down the streets of Midtown in a haze of tiredness, the cacophony of construction and car honking hellish to my pounding head. There¡¯s a nice cafe that¡¯s busy with people, even at this hour, and we sit down inside. Everyone looks a little disheveled in their suits, but happy.


    My eyes immediatelytch on to the cute waitress, who gives Vince and Joe wide smiles that they return.


    ¡°My name is Jenny, and I¡¯ll be your waitress. Can I get you guys some coffee?¡±


    A chorus of, ¡°Yes, please,¡± resounds over the table. She beams at Vince, who beckons her closer with his fingers to ask her a question about the menu. Then she turns her cute little ass around and marches off to get our coffee.


    ¡°I don¡¯t get this shit. You two assholes get more broads hitting on you now than before you were married.¡±


    Vince holds up the hand with his ring, grinning. ¡°It¡¯s a pussy ma. They don¡¯t give a fuck that I¡¯m married. Ade would freak out if she knew the crazy shit women tell me to try to get me to fuck them.¡± He shakes his head.


    I look at both of them, smirking. ¡°Are you telling me that you don¡¯t take advantage of that?¡±


    Joe shakes his head, and to my surprise, so does Vincent.


    ¡°Nah. My wife wants a kid, so my cock is working overtime.¡±


    My eyebrows lift in surprise. ¡°Holy shit.¡±


    The man who swore up and down for years he¡¯d never get married is trying for a kid. Honestly I don¡¯t know how I feel about getting married. I always knew I¡¯d have to at some point to keep up appearances and to shut my mother up about it. Kids, though? God no.


    I¡¯m a hedonist and I don¡¯t deny myself anything. Havingmitments gets in the way of being able to do whatever the fuck I please. You can¡¯t really be free when you have a wife and kids.


    ¡°Thanks, hon,¡± he says to the waitress, who pours him coffee. ¡°That¡¯s what you need, Tommy. You need a woman who keeps you satisfied.¡±


    I lean back into the chair and roll my eyes at his grin. ¡°Now you sound like my mother.¡±


    ¡°Like it or not, one day you¡¯ll have to settle down.¡±


    A grin stretches my face. ¡°I do settle down. I settle down every night with a new woman.¡±


    The waitress flinches as she pours my coffee, and the guys erupt intoughter. As I sip the coffee, my thoughts pull irresistibly to Mnie. I think about her generous tits sitting in my hands, her dark hair tickling my bare skin as she leans in to kiss me. I wanted to see her naked, what the curves shown off in those skintight jeans she always wore looked like. I wanted her to drop between my knees and take my cock in her mouth, to see that strong, proud woman give me head. Fuck. How hot would that be?


    The talk around the table suddenly moves from girls to business, and I try to raise my head over the lustful cloud I¡¯m sitting in to participate in the conversation, but all I can think about is her curves in my hands.

 4-9

    With my sleeves rolled back and my prey helpless underneath me, I feel like a god. Every cut is a catharsis. Blood pumps out of his wounds, the angry red color spilling from him. His screams channel my rage. They lift to the ceiling and bounce on the thick walls, which absorb the sound, and I feel cleaner. I drag the scalpel across his skin, frowning when it catches on tough tendon. Some of these des are getting old. I¡¯ll need to rece them. I throw it aside and instead I pick up a more blunt tool: a hammer.


    His eyes grow wide when he sees it. ¡°No! NO!¡±


    The man strapped to my table raped one of the guys¡¯ares. I caught him peddling heroin outside a 7-11, lured him to my car, and then put him in a chokehold. Now he¡¯s at my mercy, except there is no mercy for him. Not from Jack and certainly not from me.


    ¡°Please!¡± he screams. ¡°Please stop!¡±


    He¡¯s a middle-aged man with a wedding ring on his finger.


    ¡°Did you listen to her when she told you to stop?¡±


    The rape of ourares is a serious crime. No one touches a wiseguy¡¯s girl without losing a few fingers. This guy won¡¯t live to see another day. The pathetic bastard probably had no idea that the girl was connected. I despise men like him, not necessarily because of the crime, but because it¡¯s too easy. It¡¯s not fair. Only weak men prey on the weak.


    So I¡¯m not going to fucking stop, no matter how much he begs. It¡¯s mob justice. It¡¯s cruel and unforgiving, but it¡¯s fair.


    Starting with his hand, I smash. Each digit goes pop as I move from finger to finger. Smash. Smash. Smash. They crack, swell, and bleed. It hurts like a son of a bitch. I know it does, because the guy passes out from the pain.


    I open the bottle of ammonia and hold it under his nose, and then he¡¯s awake again, screaming and thrashing.


    My knife fillets his flesh like a fish. None of his wounds will kill him. I¡¯m keeping him alive to experience the most pain possible. The yellow fattyyer just below the skin peels back, revealing deep-red muscle tissue. His screams pierce my ears like knives.


    Making it in this life only works if everyone else is afraid of you, especially when you¡¯re half-Italian. I¡¯m such a huge target because I make so much money. I see the other guys watching me, just waiting for me to make one wrong move. They don¡¯t think I see them, but I do.


    The same guys watching me right now.


    I hold two items in front of the man¡¯s eyes. He can barely see me through his tears.


    ¡°Choose.¡±


    Blowtorch or pliers?


    Red eyes flick back and forth. ¡°No!¡± he screams over and over.


    Eventually they wear down to a single syble. It gets boring very quickly, so I jab him in the knee. He chooses the pliers. They always do.


    I use the blowtorch instead.


    Hey, Jack said to make the bastard suffer. That¡¯s what I¡¯m doing. The smell of burning flesh is almost too much for me. Sometimes it reminds me of cooked pork and that alone is enough to make me gag. It¡¯s too much for one of the guys, who leaves the room with a hand mped over his mouth and nose.


    Sometimes I wish I could keep them for a few more days. There¡¯s a lot more one can aplish over a week rather than a few days, but Jack wants this one gone. Today.


    Like I said, I¡¯m getting a little bored with this.


    When he¡¯s finally dead, I m a knife right into the center of his chest and look up over his bloodless corpse to the silent, judgmental faces watching. Hardened eyes look away from me. None of them can bear to look into the darkness.


    I brush past them to exit the room, past the chill of the meat freezers holding dozens of carcasses on hooks, and then I walk to the sink, furiously washing my hands. Suddenly I¡¯m reminded of Mnie, and how she walked into the deli right after I¡¯d washed my arms.


    It was such a shock to see her there, but I haven¡¯t seen her muchtely. It¡¯s clear that she¡¯s avoiding me. Why? I have no fucking idea.


    Maybe I should move on to someone else.


    I¡¯m not obsessed with her, but it¡¯s like getting your first hit of coke. The first time is so amazing, so incredible, that you can¡¯t help but go back for a little bit more. She gave me a tease, and naturally I want more. I feel like she already gave me the green light, and all she needs is a little convincing.


    I just want to fuck her and move on at this point. That¡¯s how it always is with me. Fuck them and move on to the next one. I see the other guys with rtionships, with wives, and I really don¡¯t see the appeal. They¡¯re constantlypromising for them, doing this or that, and meanwhile they¡¯re fucking theirares behind their backs anyway.


    What do they get out of it? I don¡¯t understand it. I really don¡¯t.


    Eyes avoid me as I enter the back of the deli, where Jack waits. ¡°He¡¯s gone.¡±


    Jack is a tall, imposing figure for a sixty-year-old man. Light of hair and eyes, he always makes me feel vulnerable. I¡¯m self-conscious around him, maybe it¡¯s because I¡¯ve known him for so long. He tightens his jaw and nods stiffly. ¡°Good.¡±


    He reaches around my back, smiling, grasping my shoulder with a tight squeeze. ¡°Tommy, I need you to keep your eyes open.¡±


    Past the giant saws and refrigerators, there¡¯s arge room with a pool table, an oak dining-room table, desks, and chairs. He leads me around and motions to a seat. All my life Jack has always been surrounded by people. There were always a couple guards hanging around him. Until now.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°What happened with Ben was just-¡± he shakes his head. ¡°I¡¯m very worried, Tommy. Very worried.¡±


    My insides stir when I hear the dejected tone in his voice. He¡¯s like a father to me, and I hate hearing disappointment from him. It makes my skin crawl. I sit down across from him, and the look on his face makes my guts twist. What happened? Is he upset with me?


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong, Skip?¡±


    ¡°Keep your eyes and ears open for any more rats. There might be more.¡±


    Jesus.


    ¡°Jack, you know you can trust me, right? I would never talk after everything you¡¯ve done for me over the years.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t trust anyone, but if I did, it¡¯d be you.¡±


    I sit up straighter in my chair. ¡°Then why won¡¯t you make me a member?¡±


    He looks up at me, suddenly much older than his age, his eyes pained.


    The first time he told me I could never be a made member, I was sixteen years old. It was probably the worst day of my life. All my life I wanted to belong somewhere. I wasn¡¯t noticed at home. There, I might as well have been a ghost. There are some people who just go through the motions in life. They have kids, even though they have no interest in raising them. They just do it because it¡¯s expected of them. My parents were like that.


    Jack made me feel special. For the first time, an adult actually showed interest in me. He¡¯d ask me questions about what I wanted to do with my life, who was my favorite baseball yer, and he¡¯d listen to the responses. He¡¯d lean forward on the table with his head in his hand and really listen as though he was interested. Jack threw me my first birthday party because I told him my parents never bothered with them. There was even a cake! I couldn¡¯t believe it. I was so moved by the gesture that he practically had me eating out of his hand. He gained my loyalty basically by being the parent I always wanted and never had.


    When he told me I would never be made, I went home, locked myself in my bedroom, and cried for hours. The pain still resonates inside me, fifteen yearster. It¡¯s a bitter tang at the back of my throat; it¡¯s the hollow beat of my heart. I wanted so badly to be epted by him, and he denied me because of who I was. It was heartbreaking. I didn¡¯t understand why it was so important that I wasn¡¯t full Italian. What did it matter if I went through the same training and pulled the same numbers as everyone else?


    ¡°The books are closed,¡± he says without meeting my eyes.


    I let his voice ring in the empty room for a few moments.


    ¡°Bullshit.¡±


    His head snaps up. ¡°You know I can¡¯t make you a member.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    He just stares at me, pity swirling in his eyes.


    ¡°Fuck this-¡± I stand up abruptly, but his hand snatches my wrist.


    ¡°Damn it, Tommy, it¡¯s not like I¡¯ve a choice. Those are the rules.¡±


    Iugh hollowly. ¡°You¡¯re the boss. You can do whatever you want.¡±


    ¡°What kind of example does that set if I make you and not others?¡± His fingers tighten over my wrist. ¡°I give you every single protection that they get, and I let you get away with a lot of shit.¡±


    ¡°Only because I make you so much fucking money.¡±


    The bitterness in my voice makes me want to spit on the floor. Jack¡¯s eyes narrow.This is property ? of N?velDrama.Org.


    ¡°Hey, it¡¯s not about that. You¡¯re like a-¡±


    ¡°Like a son to you?¡± I finish his sentence with a smirk. ¡°Come on, Jack. That might¡¯ve worked when I was young-¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the truth, you little shit.¡±


    ¡°Well, maybe I don¡¯t believe it anymore.¡±


    His fingers drop from my wrist and it¡¯s like a frozen wall erects itself between us. Cold makes the hairs on my arm stand up, and I can¡¯t see him anymore. I¡¯m a snake and all I can sense is heat, but he¡¯spletely cold. There¡¯s nothing there.


    Maybe a flicker of fear.


    That¡¯s when I know I¡¯ve gone too far, because when your boss starts fearing you, that¡¯s when throats get cut.

 4-10

    MELANIE


    I always thought that I was smart, you know?


    Turns out that when there¡¯s enough alcohol in me, I¡¯m just as dumb as those girls hanging around the gangsters in my club. He kissed me and I let myself feel something for him. Who knows what could¡¯ve happened if we weren¡¯t interrupted?


    It just kills me.


    He¡¯s like that one extra slice of chocte cake, another drink when you know you¡¯ve already had too much, a hit-just a small bump, just something to tide you over until the next thinges along and sweeps you off your feet. When his charm is on full st and I¡¯m wedged beside him in a happy alcoholic haze, he¡¯s almost impossible to resist. I know I shouldn¡¯t, he¡¯s bad for me, but I can¡¯t help it.


    Like I said, I thought I was smart. I¡¯m not. I¡¯m a fucking idiot.


    The tangle of sheets around my legs and torso feel like ropes binding my limbs. Complete darkness greets me when I open my eyes, and I grab my phone, bewildered. I¡¯ve no idea what time it is. Five p. m.N?velDrama.Org (C) content.


    Oh great. Only a couple hours until work. Fabulous!


    Already grumpy, I rip back the sheets and try to ignore the pounding in my head from that night. It keeps ying over and over again, and I can¡¯t help but smile secretly into the sheets when I let the feelings fromst night crawl over my breasts.


    I let him kiss me, and what¡¯s worse is that I liked it.


    He was an incredible kisser. His mouth and tongue worked magic over me. I can only imagine what else he can do with his body.


    No.


    The steamy thoughts grind to a halt. This can¡¯t happen. I swore to myself I¡¯d never get involved with one of them, and for good reason. They¡¯re dangerous. Even Tommy. Especially Tommy.


    But is he dangerous to me?


    I step into the shower and try to let the hot jets of water scour every trace of attraction I feel for him. Instead my chest heats up as I imagine him cornering me inside the shower, smiling down at me with that devilish grin. His hand wraps around my neck and he closes the space between our bodies, my breasts ttened against his carved chest. Then the intoxicating warmth of his mouth smothers mine, and his hand slides down my body and cups the heat between my legs. I back against the shower wall as he curls a finger inside me, the water not quite masking how wet I am.


    The water pelts my face as I snap out of my daydream, my nipples hard in the hot water. Jesus, this isn¡¯t working at all. I still want him.


    Of course you want him. When was thest time you¡¯ve beenid?


    Good question.


    I just have to keep staying away from him, that¡¯s all. It¡¯ll fade. I imagine Tommy disappearing from the club, discouraged. I imagine him noting back anymore, and it¡¯s the strangest thing. I almost feel like crying. My chest tightens.


    On some level, I liked the attention. I was ttered that he kepting back, over and over, even though I kept rejecting him. He¡¯d utter sweet things in my ear every time, no matter how nasty I was to him. I know he just wants to fuck me, but he did get to me. I¡¯m misty eyed just at the thought of never seeing him again, maybe because he was the only guy who gave me that kind of attention. I¡¯m always at the club, working, never having a moment to myself.


    Should I take a chance with him?


    I dry myself off and apply my makeup wearily, knowing that I¡¯ll never give Tommy a chance. It¡¯s just not smart to get involved with someone like him, no matter how sweet he is to me.


    Mom and Dad sit on the couch, watching Portuguese channels, and I feel a sudden surge of anger. It¡¯s so intense that I tremble on the spot, fighting back the bizarre urge to yell at them.


    Mom¡¯s bright face turns toward me. ¡°Going out?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I slept in toote.¡±


    ¡°You should eat something, sweetie!¡±


    The name stirs the monster inside me, and I¡¯m like a viper. ¡°I¡¯m going to bete for work,¡± I snap.


    Wrenching open the door, I lose her angry retort as I m it behind me. I jog down the steps and notice a pretty girl dressed in cks, her face set in stone. She looks sort of familiar. I pass right by her, hurrying toward the subway.


    ¡°Mnie.¡±


    A deep, mature voice sounds behind me. It¡¯s the girl. I turn around, my mouth gaping as I see Michelle. It¡¯s Michelle, but everything is wrong. Her hair is slicked back into a neat ponytail, her makeup is nonexistent, and her false nails are gone. What the fuck? She looks like apletely different person.


    ¡°Michelle? What are you-?¡±


    She slips her hand inside her jacket and pulls out something. Something with a shiny metal badge.


    No way.


    ¡°Agent Spencer, FBI.¡±


    All the warmth drains out of my body and I sway on my feet, catching myself on a tree. Oh fuck. Oh Jesus Christ! I¡¯m fucking dead!


    ¡°No fucking way!¡±


    A sleek ck sedan rolls to the curb and Michelle steps aside to open the door. ¡°We¡¯d like you toe in to talk.¡±


    The car might as well be my hearse. I step backward, shaking my head. ¡°No, I¡¯m not going to fucking talk.¡±


    ¡°Trust me, Mnie. You want to hear what we have to say.¡±


    ¡°Trust you?¡± I raise my voice incredulously. ¡°Trust you!¡±


    Those lips I hardly recognize curl into a smile. ¡°If I were you, I¡¯d forget about how angry you are with me and focus on yourself.¡±


    Fuck.


    I look around the street. Jesus, any of them could be here, watching me. My heart pounding, I reluctantly slide into the car, even though everything inside me screams not to.


    Michelle slides in next to me and gives me a small smile, and I try to resist the urge to give her the finger. My eyes sting with tears when I realize how much she saw in the back, and all the time she was an FBI agent. Probably sent to gain my trust, and it fucking worked. She¡¯s a fucking duplicitous snake. A bitch.


    I trusted her.


    ¡°Is your name even Michelle?¡±


    She shrugs apologetically and I bury my face in my hands. ¡°Oh God.¡±


    The car ride is silent, but my thoughts scream in my head. What am I going to do? Fuck, they¡¯re going to kill me. They¡¯ve got me for something. Who knows what? She¡¯s seen so many things in the back-why the fuck did I let her go in the back?


    I agonize over it as they bring me to a nondescript building somewhere. It must be some kind of secret fucking ck-ops hiding ce they have for snitches. Michelle, or whatever the fuck her name is, takes my arm to lead me inside. I pull away from her as disgust rises in my throat. I cannot tolerate her right now.


    My body shakes violently when they take me into a ustrophobic room with three nk white walls and one giant two-way mirror. Four men and women, including Michelle, sit down in front of me and I feel as if I¡¯m about to endure some kind of panel interview, and they¡¯re about to judge my fate.


    ¡°I¡¯m Agent Palmer.¡± A balding man with a morose expression addresses me.


    ¡°A-Am I under arrest?¡±


    ¡°Not at this time, but that can change depending on your choices.¡±


    Michelle slides a piece of paper across the table, and I gasp out loud when I read the title.


    ¡°That¡¯s a search warrant for your club, your office, and your drugs.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not-¡± I bite my lip suddenly and fight the tears threatening to spill over my lids. I can¡¯t say anything. I can¡¯t let them trick me into admitting anything.


    They¡¯re not my drugs, and she knows it.


    ¡°We¡¯re offering you a chance to get out of this, Mel,¡± she says, leaning in, her eyes harder than I¡¯ve ever seen them. ¡°You told me so many times how you wished you could get out.¡±


    ¡°I did not,¡± I growl.


    ¡°I have it on tape.¡±


    Heat enmes my chest as I stare at that bitch. She taped me? Actually taped me?


    ¡°We¡¯re building a RICO case against the members of the Vittorio Crime Family: Vincent Cesare, Joe DiFiore, Paulie Marziliano, Nicky, and anyone else we can rope in. We need your help.¡±


    Oh my God.


    My heart hammers against my chest as I look at each of them, hoping that this is an borate joke. ¡°Are you fucking crazy? There¡¯s no way I¡¯ll testify against them.¡±


    I wouldn¡¯tst a day.


    ¡°We would protect you and your parents. You¡¯d be sent to the Witness Protection Program, and all charges against you would be dropped.¡±


    Michelle leans in again. ¡°You wanted a way out-this is the way out, Mnie.¡±


    ¡°W-what if I say no?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll be arrested and charged with possession and intention to distribute cocaine, ecstasy, heroin, and I don¡¯t know how many other drugs.¡±


    It takes everything in my power not to argue with him, to deny, deny, deny.


    ¡°Carries a sentence of up to twenty-five years in prison, and after you make bail you can exin to Jack Vittorio why you brought an undercover FBI agent into one of his clubs.¡±


    This isn¡¯t happening. This is not fucking happening.


    The back of the chair cuts into my legs as I stand up abruptly, flinching horribly when I hear it topple and crash to the floor. Michelle shifts in her seat and I gaze at the mannequin sitting in front of me, who is so unlike the girl I called ¡°friend.¡±


    ¡°Is this what you were trying to do when you spent all those fucking nights at the club? You were trying to get me killed?¡±


    She licks her pink lips and looks up at me, her hands shaking slightly. ¡°I was doing my job.¡±


    ¡°Your job is going to get me fucking killed, and you know I had nothing to do with any of it! Fucking bitch!¡±


    My foot ms into the leg of the table, and it shakes violently. She pulls back her chair and stares at me with wide, guilty eyes. The other agents look distinctly unruffled.


    ¡°Calm down, Ms. Ronaldo.¡±


    ¡°I will not fucking calm down!¡±


    Not when everything is falling apart, not when I might not live to see another day, and my only choice-my only choice is to join a program and be whisked away somewhere far away. I had ns in New York. Sure, I want those bastards in jail, but I didn¡¯t want to be the one to testify against them. Who the fuck would? My heart keeps mming into my chest, the rush of blood sending dizzy spells to my head. I grasp the edge of the table, and Tommy¡¯s de sinking into that guy¡¯s chest reys itself over and over again in my head. That¡¯ll happen to me. If I¡¯m lucky.


    ¡°I want it in writing. I want mywyer here.¡± I look up at them with the sensation that I¡¯m signing my death sentence. ¡°I¡¯ll talk.¡±

 4-11

    Mob RICO trial begins on the 3rd of December


    FBI uses key witness in trial to nab Vittorio mobsters


    Biggest arrest in ten years leaves Vittorio Crime Family decimated


    ¡°You¡¯re doing the right thing.¡±


    I tear my gaze away from the newspaper headlines, abandoning my obsessive search for any mention of my name, and look at the girl standing over my shoulder. A sh of heat ignites the skin on my chest when I look at her stupid face.


    ¡°What the hell would you know about the right thing?¡±Exclusive ? material by N?(/v)elDrama.Org.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to help put away very dangerous men, Mnie. It¡¯s a good thing, believe me.¡±


    ¡°I should believe you when all you did was lie to me about who you were?¡± I snap. ¡°Do me a favor and get the fuck out of my face.¡±


    Yes, I might be doing ¡°a good thing¡± by putting away Vincent, Joe, Paulie, and the rest of them, but at what cost to myself? Other gangs will move into the club, peddling the same coke they were. It¡¯s a futile enterprise. And I¡¯ll be somewhere else entirely, my identity stripped away from me.


    At least I¡¯ll be with Mom and Dad.


    But thinking of them is just painful. I thought my dad would die of shame when they told him what was happening in the club. He gave me such a wounded look, as if it were my fault. As if I caused all this. He was the one who partnered with the goddamn Mafia. Why the fuck should I suffer for his mistakes?


    ¡°You never gave us anything about Tommy O¡¯Sullivan,¡± she says, giving me a pointed look that tells me she¡¯s going to ignore my request.


    I sigh loudly. Thinking of him gives me a painful twinge in my chest. ¡°I will not name him. I will not testify against him.¡±


    She leans in over the moth-eaten couch, smiling under that curtain of blonde hair. ¡°Mel, I know that he visited the club all the time. I know you have feelings for him, but-¡±


    ¡°That is my one fucking condition,¡± I growl, refusing to be goaded by her. ¡°Drop it or I¡¯ll walk.¡±


    A knowing smile spreads over her face. ¡°We both know you can¡¯t walk away from this now.¡±


    Hating her, I get up from the couch before I do something stupid like hit an FBI agent in the face. I walk through the shitty motel room and enter the bathroom, mming the door shut. The light flickers like a strobe light, reminding me of the club. My chest constricts and I ce both palms on the cool sink, my arms shaking. I barely recognize the face in the mirror; the deep lines under my eyes make me look as though I aged a few years in the past few weeks.


    I never gave up Tommy, even though they pushed me to give up evidence against him. I just couldn¡¯t do it to him.


    You¡¯re a fucking fraud.


    His voice booms out of the mirror, making me shiver all over. I could have told them about the murder, but I didn¡¯t. I don¡¯t want to hurt him. He was the one guy I could stand, out of all of them. I could care less about the rest of the guys. They¡¯re bad men-people who used me, extorted me, and hurt me. If they want an apology, I won¡¯t give it. I¡¯m not sorry.


    The ghost of his hand brushing the hair from my shoulder still singes my skin. His lips still burn against my mouth as if he was just here, wrapping his arm around my waist and pushing me against the wall of the bathroom.


    I wonder what he thinks of me now that I¡¯ve ratted out all his friends.


    My fingers whiten around the edges of the sink and I grind my teeth together as my heart gallops forward, too fast for me to keep up with. I¡¯m in a motel room separated from my parents for our safety, and there will be weeks left of the trial. Weeks of staring Vincent, Joe, and Jack in the face across the courtroom, and them staring back at me as they consider the best way to kill me from across the room.


    Suddenly I am sorry.


    What have I done?

 4-12

    TOMMY


    asional moans shake through the steel room, whose door is ajar. My head snaps toward the sound and I frown. I¡¯m supposed to get rid of him, but I just don¡¯t feel up to it today. It¡¯s my job and I take pride in it, even if it has lost its thrill, but now the screams grate against my ears like sandpaper. Uneasiness is like a sickly feeling, and it takesmand of my limbs, freezing me into ce.


    My heart is just not in it, today.


    He moans again, and the noise reminds me of one of those haunted houses I went through as a kid-the speakers ying spooky ambient music and ghosts moaning. I snicker at the thought, and Jack gives me a furious look from across the room. My expression falls immediately.


    Right. I¡¯m supposed to be somber.


    The door in the back ms open, and I reach for the piece strapped to my ankle, but it¡¯s only Vince. His wide eyes sh in my direction.


    ¡°I¡¯m fucked,¡± he announces to the room in a desperate voice. ¡°Fucked.¡±


    It¡¯s not every day you¡¯re indicted in a federal RICO case. My heart goes out to him and I stand up, but Jack gets to him first. He envelops him in a hug and Vince lets him pound his back, a numb look freezing his face.


    ¡°I¡¯m facing twenty-five years to life. I cannot go to fucking jail-Adriana and I wanted a baby. How am I going to exin this to her?¡±


    The agony in his voice gives me a twinge of sympathy.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Vinny.¡±


    He gives me the same shocked, nk look before disengaging his arms from Jack and sinking lifelessly into a chair. ¡°Joe and Paulie are out, but they¡¯re under house arrest.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re open season for anyone who wants to take us out right now. With all of you in the can-¡±


    ¡°What the fuck do you want me to do, Jack? I¡¯m being watched. We all are!¡± Then he buries his face in his hands as despair twists his mouth. ¡°All because of that fucking cunt. I fucking knew she was a risk.¡± His head turns down the table and I feel the heat from his eyes. ¡°She didn¡¯t give you up for anything, you know.¡±


    ¡°I do.¡±


    When I found out, I was surprised. It would bring a smile to my face if she hadn¡¯t fucked us over so badly. It¡¯s curious. Why not give me up? Is it because I took care of that thief? Hell, it does make meugh a little to know that my small acts of kindness worked tremendously in my favor when I was only trying to getid. I still think about her all the time. She¡¯s all anyone talks about now.


    I can¡¯t believe that she¡¯d do something so stupid.


    ¡°Maybe you should have hit on her.¡±


    He glowers at me. ¡°Not fucking funny.¡±


    I bury the smile on my face. He¡¯s right. It¡¯s not.


    Another desperate groan from the room makes Vince¡¯s head perk up anxiously. Jack frowns at me. ¡°Will you shut him up?¡±


    Sighing, I walk over to the heavy metal door and disappear behind it, only to discover that my prey¡¯s hand is halfway out of his restraints.


    Fuck. I¡¯m getting sloppy.


    ¡°No-no!¡±


    Angry, I seize the kitchen knife I havein on the tray and I approach his head. He¡¯s an older man. Could be my grandfather. I¡¯ve no idea what the fuck he did, but I¡¯m no mood to y with him. I just want to get rid of him. The edge of the knife slips under his chin, and I find his carotid artery. Just a little bit of pressure. A red dot of blood blossoms from the point of the knife and then I cut, opening up his neck. Blood spurts from the shed artery. His gaping mouth opens and closes as he feebly covers the wound with his free hand. I take the knife away from his neck and hold him there. Dark, thick blood pulses from his neck, slopping all over the pristine floor. Then his eyes still and ze over, and the gulping sounds stop. He¡¯s gone. It takes less than a minute.


    Definitely the quickest kill I¡¯ve ever done.


    It does nothing for me.


    I m the knife on the tray and leave the room to rinse my hands.


    This fucking girl distracts me. I can¡¯t get any fulfillment from their deaths anymore, because this fucking trial has consumed our lives. I¡¯m angry with her, but mostly at myself for thinking that she would have never done something so stupid.


    The strangest feeling seizes my body when I walk back into the room. Vince and Jack both look up at me at the same time as if they were both talking about me. Something freezes in the air when they look at me like that, with quiet desperation. A sneaking suspicion crawls up my spine, tingling my nerves.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°We need your help.¡±


    A reluctant smile spreads over my face as I look at each of them, their expressions almost identical. ¡°With what?¡±


    ¡°We need the girl to change her testimony. We need her to fucking disappear.¡±


    Myughs echo hollowly in the room as I realize what Jack wants from me. The tingling feeling spreads over my skin as I walk closer to them. ¡°And how the fuck am I supposed to find a witness protected by the FBI day and night?¡±


    Jack licks his lips. ¡°I¡¯ve been following the girl who stopped showing up to work. I knew someone in that club must¡¯ve been an undercover, and I just had a feeling.¡±


    ¡°Who?¡±


    ¡°Michelle.¡±


    I close my eyes painfully. Michelle. The bubbly girl who everyone wanted to fuck, except for me. She was likable, charming.


    ¡°She¡¯s a fed?¡±


    ¡°Yep.¡±This is property ? of N?velDrama.Org.


    I blow out a low whistle, feeling a sharp stab of sympathy for Mnie. She would¡¯ve had no idea.


    ¡°That must¡¯ve been how they got her. They charged her with something through that cunt.¡±


    ¡°I thought she was harmless,¡± Vince says, shaking his head in disbelief. ¡°Who would¡¯ve thought some puttana from Queens would be in the fucking FBI?¡±


    ¡°Anyway,¡± Jack cuts in. ¡°She¡¯s been visiting some motel in Jersey every couple days.¡±


    ¡°So get your men to abduct her. I¡¯m not going anywhere near her.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the only guy who can do this, Tommy.¡±


    The raw sound of Vince¡¯s voice makes me feel powerful. For the first time ever, they need me more than I need them. If that¡¯s not power, I don¡¯t know what is.


    My shoes clip over the floor as I walk toward them, my chest burning with acid as Vince begs me with his eyes. I sneer at him.


    ¡°Why the fuck would I do this for you? What have you ever done for me?¡±


    ¡°C¡¯mon, Tommy-¡±


    ¡°Abducting a federal witness in a RICO trial, are you out of your fucking mind? I won¡¯t do it. You do it.¡±


    ¡°Tommy, please-I would if I could. I¡¯m begging you.¡±


    ¡°You know what you sound like?¡± I say, grinning. ¡°You sound like all those poor fucks I take care of in that room.¡±


    I point toward the ughter room.


    ¡°Fuck you!¡± Vince stands up and shoves my chest. ¡°I would do it for you!¡±


    ¡°Oh really? You wouldy your life on the line to help an associate out of jail, a half Italian not even good enough to be made into a member? Fuck you, Vincent. Fuck you.¡±


    I relish the look on his face as the hope drains from his eyes. I¡¯ve wanted to say this for a long time, and now I can say whatever the fuck I want because they need me so badly. Taunting both of them makes blood rush to my muscles, until Jack stands up and looks at me with an expression like I just killed his dog.


    ¡°If you do this, I¡¯ll make you into a member.¡±


    Goddamn it.


    He¡¯s a clever old bastard to tempt me.


    No. Out of the question. If you¡¯re caught, you¡¯re going to prison for LIFE.


    But the yearning leaps inside me, soaring above me before I¡¯ve a chance to send it crashing to the earth. I¡¯ve wanted this for so goddamn long. Otherwise, what¡¯s the point of being in the life?


    ¡°Don¡¯t say it if you don¡¯t mean it,¡± I say in a tight voice.


    Vince looks up, hope renewed on his face without a trace of resentment. He doesn¡¯t give a shit. None of them will if I give them what they want. Jack takes my shoulders gently.


    ¡°Tommy, you know you¡¯ve always meant a lot to me. You would have been made years ago if you were full Italian. That was the only barrier, but I¡¯m willing to change it.¡±


    My stomach clenches. It still galls me that he¡¯s only willing to change the rules because he¡¯s desperate, and not because I truly earned it.


    I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m considering this. I must be fucking crazy.


    ¡°I¡¯m not killing any cops.¡±


    ¡°Of course not,¡± Jack says quickly.


    But the more I think about having that piece of asspletely at my mercy, the more excited I get. I¡¯ll take her to one of our safe houses and make her strip. Then I¡¯ll make her beg for forgiveness for what she¡¯s done. This will be so much more fun than what I usually do. I¡¯ll break her down until she¡¯s begging to suck my cock. I¡¯ll make her worship the very ground I stand on, and then she¡¯ll retract her testimony. Then, most likely, Jack will want her to disappear. Permanently.


    She didn¡¯t give me up. She likes me. Half the battle has already been won.


    ¡°I¡¯ll need to be left alone with her. I know exactly what I¡¯ll do.¡±


    His fingers pinch my shoulders. ¡°I don¡¯t want you to spend the whole time fucking her. Just get her to retract the testimony, and then you can get rid of her any way you like.¡±


    Fine.


    The hope on Vincent¡¯s face doesn¡¯t falter. Even he doesn¡¯t give a shit how I¡¯ll carve up this girl. Now that his ass is on the line, I could wear her head as a hat, and he wouldn¡¯t give a shit.


    It¡¯s the first time I¡¯ve had so much power over them. I could demand anything I wanted, and they¡¯d give it to me. What if I wanted to fuck his wife? Would he give me that, too?


    A smile hitches on my face and Vincent smiles reluctantly.


    If only he knew what I was thinking.


    ¡°The moment the job¡¯s done, I¡¯ll get made.¡±


    I stick my hand out and he shakes it, refusing to break eye contact with me. ¡°Yeah. Of course.¡±


    ¡°If you go back on your promise, I¡¯ll put a bullet between your eyes as if you¡¯re anyone else.¡±


    Resentment boils in my chest as Vince dares to shoot me a re, which quickly fades under mine.


    That¡¯s right, asshole. You¡¯re under my thumb.


    ¡°I¡¯m still the boss, Tommy,¡± he says in a voice quietly rumbling with anger.


    ¡°A boss with no captains,¡± I remind him.


    ¡°I don¡¯t like the way you¡¯re talking to me-¡±


    ¡°Well maybe I don¡¯t like the way you¡¯ve talked to me all these years,¡± I snap, shutting him up immediately. ¡°I will get the respect I deserve.¡±


    My voice rings in the back of the deli, and Vince nods along with me. I can almost hear his thoughts: Just agree with whatever the fuck he says, Jack.


    That brings another smile to my face.

 4-13

    A simple bribe to the clerk at the motel gives me a copy of the keys to her room, though I doubt I¡¯ll need them. I¡¯ve staked out the ce for over twelve hours, analyzing the patterns of the two cops guarding the room. Two fucking cops. That¡¯s it? That¡¯s all they have guarding their key witness?


    It seems too easy, almost as if it¡¯s an invitation. Of course, they¡¯re not supposed to be seen. The cops sit in the unmarked police car. There are probably more inside the motel room.


    Risky, risky, risky.


    The guy sitting behind my seat lets out an audible sigh and squirms in his noisy leather. The guys I brought with me are ready to go. They¡¯ve been waiting for hours to help me kidnap this girl.


    ¡°What¡¯s taking so long?¡±


    I look up into the rearview mirror, right into his impatient face. ¡°Will you shut your mouth?¡±


    From the darkened window of the car, my eyes flick to the gas station across the street, where just tucked in the corner of the building, there¡¯s a ck duffel bag.


    And it¡¯s filled with explosives.


    I roll back my sleeve and check my watch. Three minutes.


    The excitement ramps up in my chest, all over my body, making me want to do anything but sit still in a car. It makes me grin. I can almost feel the sparks in the air, zapping me. These are the moments I live for. This is why I love what I do.


    The fucking thrill.


    Normally I don¡¯t flirt so close to the edge. So many things could go bad with this kidnapping-she¡¯s a fucking state witness, for Christ¡¯s sake, but it¡¯s the highlight of my career. Guys from other crews across New York will hear about this. No one will say that I didn¡¯t earn the right to be made. If it goes wrong, it¡¯ll be the downfall of my career. I¡¯ll spend the rest of my days in prison, if I¡¯m not killed first.Exclusive ? material by N?(/v)elDrama.Org.


    My watch beeps and the most beautiful colors light up the sky. The ckness momentarily turns blue as an explosion rocks the ground. A bright, orange ball engulfs the gas station, the trail of gasoline sending ck clouds of smoke into the sky.


    ¡°Holy shit!¡±


    My heart hammers inside my chest as I reach inside my jacket and pull out my cell phone. It feels strange to stare into the ck screen and dial these numbers: 9-1-1.


    ¡°Nine-one-one, what¡¯s your emergency?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a fire in the gas station on Clement St. I¡¯m at the motel across the street, and PG&E just came by. There¡¯s a gas leak.¡±


    ¡°The Shell gas station on 53 Clement St?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Please hurry.¡±


    Then I hang up the phone, the smooth ss slipping in my hand as I tuck it back in my jacket. The fire grows in front of my windshield as the gas station clerk runs outside, using a fire extinguisher on the mes now crawling up the wall. It has no effect on the raging fire. I imagine the heat radiating from the red mes. A window explodes from the heat and I look at the darkened motel at the figure in blue, knocking on all the doors of the motel.


    Yes, right on time.


    Another deafening explosion rocks the pavement, blowing into the far left wall of the motel. People spill out of their rooms like ants to watch the mes licking on the side of the building. Screaming sirens reverberate inside the car and I nod at the guys behind me. We step out of the car and watch as the giant red truck rolls into street, firefighters climbing down to attack the gas station first.


    ¡°Gas leak! Gas leak!¡±


    Frightened shouts reach my ears as I jog toward the room where she is staying, heart pounding. I see her. She¡¯s right there, huddled against the door. That cunt Michelle watches her, but the two cops in the car run toward the gas station. Smoke wafts across the parking lot as I stand, limbs trembling.


    The guys behind me watch me carefully like two trained hounds.


    ¡°Okay, go.¡±


    They¡¯re off. I only have one other guy to help me now. They walk casually toward Michelle, hands deep into their pockets. She¡¯s on the phone and doesn¡¯t notice them. Sneaking up behind her, they grab her purse from her shoulder. Her screams lift in the air and I jog closer, close enough to touch Mnie¡¯s dark curls. The FBI bitch runs after the thief, and I reach for Mnie¡¯s shoulders.


    ¡°Ma¡¯am, you need to evacuate the area.¡±


    She turns in my grasp, but I don¡¯t let her catch a glimpse of my face. I lead her to the side of the motel where it¡¯s dark. My heart still pounds like a motherfucker. I can¡¯t believe it. Almost there.


    Once we¡¯re in the safety of the shadows, I can rx. She turns toward me, my face hidden in darkness. My cock stirs when I take in her appearance. She¡¯s wearing those skintight jeans that I love and a low-cut purple silk blouse. Her dark hair is tied up in a messy ponytail. Damn, I forgot how much I fucking want her.


    ¡°I¡¯m not supposed to-¡±


    ¡°Shut up.¡±


    I step closer until my hip bumps against her. Goddamn it, I want to y with her, but there¡¯s no time. Plenty of timeter for all of that. The whites of her eyes go all around when the light cascades over my face.


    ¡°Tommy,¡± she breathes.


    I don¡¯t let her have a second breath. I wrap my hand around her mouth, swallowing her scream, and then my arm hooks around her neck. She fights like a madwoman. Her heels stamp on my feet, and I nuzzle her ear,ughing. I flex my arm and squeeze her neck, cutting off her cirction. There are a few seconds of muffled screams and then the fight quickly leaves her limbs. Her muscles go limp and she slumps in my arms. I carry her over my back in a fireman¡¯s lift and then I walk back into the parking lot, which is swarming with cops.


    It¡¯s chaos.


    Dimly I feel my heartbeat somewhere in my chest, rattling madly. Not out of the woods yet. My car is right there, but I immediately feel eyes on me. Cops.


    Fuck.


    ¡°My girlfriend had a bit too much excitement.¡±


    ¡°You need to leave the area!¡±


    Thank fuck. ¡°Okay!¡±


    Before she wakes up, I hurry toward the parked SUV and push her in the backseat. The other guy with me follows inside silently. The shing lights through the smoke suddenly remind me of the Crazy Horse, where I met the girl in the backseat. Then I see Michelle running across the motel, looking frantic.


    ¡°MELANIE!¡±


    A smirk pulls the corners of my lips as I start the car and back out of there. She¡¯s my witness now.

 4-14

    There¡¯s nothing more powerful than silence.


    We¡¯re deep underground, in a cer with walls cold enough to frost the air. There¡¯s just one piece of furniture in the small, square room: a chair.


    She rapidly cycles through stages as she takes in the empty room: terror, anger, begging, and grief. Her swollen, round eyes beg me as I take her dainty shoulders in my hands and force her to sit down.


    I smell the fear wafting off her. It¡¯s that scent that drives the monster inside me insane. He bashes against my ribs, eager to get out and y. My heart pounds just as quickly as hers, not from fear-but excitement.


    ¡°Tommy, look, I can exin what happened. Michelle-it was her fault. She was an undercover cop. They had me for possession and distribution, and I was looking at twenty-five years in jail for something I had nothing to do with!¡±


    Ah, the whole exining-what-went-wrong standby. It won¡¯t work. No amount of bargaining will.


    I don¡¯t say a word. Frankly I find that silence works wonders on people like her. The less I say, the more wild conclusions they¡¯ll draw. There¡¯s a tray of tools next to me, already prepared. I make sure she can see them. Long, deadly scalpels and jagged knives with the intention to cause as much pain as possible glimmer on the table. I take the roll of duct tape and she flinches at the sound of me unrolling a long piece and snapping it with my teeth.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to do this. I¡¯ll do anything.¡±


    Her voice trembles so badly that I can barely understand her.


    Anything? I n to take everything from you, sweetheart, including your life. You have nothing to give me.


    I wrap the duct tape around her arms, fastening them to the chair. Her legs are next, the tape wrapping around and around, keeping her immobile. She can¡¯t move without a grimace of pain. Fucking hell, it¡¯s intoxicating to have her all to myself like this. I should have chained her to the bed upstairs instead, but it isn¡¯t soundproof. I stand in front of her, smiling, watching her struggle fruitlessly as tears slide down her face, her brown eyes ssy. She looks so fucking beautiful, even when she¡¯s crying. Her plump lips are parted and slightly red from screaming her head off.


    I take the scariest knife I have, a lethal-looking thing, and I hold it in front of her face. Her screams hit my ears like punches.


    Fucking hell, this girl has a mouth on her.


    Normally I¡¯d use my knife on her. I¡¯d drag it across her skin and make her bleed. Instead I let it trail down her neck, stroking her skin. Her eyes flutter and she sucks in her breath. I¡¯m addicted to that pink flush that spreads across her chest. I hook the knife inside her silk shirt and I snap off the first button. Then the second. Third. Fourth, and so on, until the shirt openspletely, exposing her ckce bra and her creamy stomach.


    I must have imagined what she looked like a thousand times in my head, and soon I¡¯ll find out if her tits look as good without a bra.


    The sniffling sounds of her quiet protests fill the small room. I can only imagine how terrified she much be. Her stomach pulses as I carefully slide the knife under her bra. She lets out a low hiss and a moan when she feels it against her skin. My eyes slide from that delectable sight to her face, still trembling with fear.


    ¡°Please, Tommy. I don¡¯t want to die!¡±


    I let the room ring with her terrified voice and wait until the walls absorb the sound. A cold stillness falls over her face, and then I finally speak.


    ¡°You know what I¡¯m thinking about, sweetie?¡± I smile at the use of the pet name she despises, knowing that she won¡¯t talk back to me now.


    She grits her teeth as another bitter tear slides down her face, and shakes her head.


    ¡°I¡¯m thinking about all those times you rejected me.¡± My eyes bore into hers. ¡°Go on, do it now.¡±


    ¡°I-I-¡±


    ¡°Tell me no. I dare you.¡±


    My voice trembles with anger, but I¡¯m not really pissed off with her right now. It¡¯s just an act. For any of this to work, I need her to fear me, and I don¡¯t want to use my knives for that. Marking up her beautiful skin would be a crime.


    It urred to me the other day what a fun challenge it would be to break her down without violence. Plus, I really don¡¯t get my rocks off beating up defenseless women.


    Call me sexist.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t give you up. I swear, I didn¡¯t.¡±


    A smile spreads over my face. I¡¯ll never understand why she did that for me. ¡°I know. Thanks, by the way.¡±


    Her mouth twists into a snarl.


    ¡°That¡¯s your response?¡±


    My knife twists between her breasts, cutting into the band of her bra. ¡°Am I supposed to feel something for you?¡±


    Right then, I see the hope dim from her eyes. If I¡¯m being honest, it did make me like her more. It was a kind gesture, but it was wasted on a person like me. I don¡¯t give a shit.


    ¡°You¡¯re a fucking bastard,¡± she hisses suddenly. ¡°You helped me-I helped you. We¡¯re even.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t give a fuck about even.¡±


    Using the slightest amount of pressure, I pull the knife and it slices through the stic with a loud snap. She yelps as her bra jumps apart, her tits spilling out of the ruined halves. My mouth waters as the flush over her chest deepens in color, and her tits bounce slightly on her chest.


    Ah Jesus. How can I ignore how fucking hard this broad makes me? My cock strains against my cks, painfully growing under the unyielding fabric. I bend down and let the knife rattle on the tray before I lean forward. My hand gropes the perfect round globe, and she sucks in breath, twisting her mouth in rage.


    I can¡¯t really exin what it is about a woman¡¯s breasts that¡¯s so appealing. It¡¯s hardwired in my brain to want them, suck them and fondle them. My cock stiffens in my pants and a low growl reverberates from my throat as I feel the warmth glowing from her skin. My thumb massages her nipple until it beads into a hard ball.


    ¡°Stop,¡± she says in a low whisper.


    ¡°Why should I?¡± I chuckle softly. ¡°You love it.¡±


    As I pinch the hard nipple between my fingers, I realize I¡¯m right. Does the little bitch still feel something for me? How amusing.


    ¡°I want you to stop.¡±


    Her voice trembles and shakes with tears and for a moment my hand freezes on her tits. I lean into her face as she pulls back into the chair. She¡¯s so beautifully vulnerable, with the tears beading on her cheek like ss and the flush over her cheeks, as if she¡¯s embarrassed over her state of undress, and I want to stand up and force her to take my cock between her lips.


    But I can¡¯t. Not yet.


    I seize her jaw roughly and squeeze. ¡°You don¡¯t have the right to tell me what to do after what you¡¯ve done. You¡¯ve lost your rights. I own you.¡± A cry shakes from her mouth and I shake her jaw again. ¡°Your tits, your pussy, your lips-all of it belongs to me. There¡¯s not one part of your body that I¡¯m not going to y with, and I¡¯m going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours, over and over again, so get used to having my hands on you.¡±


    She hisses something out of her clenched lips. ¡°Fuck you.¡±


    I drop my lips lower to her face, watching as her pupils be small, inky dots. ¡°When I¡¯m through with you, you¡¯ll never be the same again.¡±


    ¡°What did I ever do to you?¡±


    My hand squeezes her breast until she moans in pain. ¡°You left me high and dry in that club.¡±


    ¡°I do not deserve this!¡±


    I p her across the face, hard enough to knock the anger out of her. She gasps as her cheek blooms with an angry red mark.


    ¡°You ratted us out to the FBI. What the fuck did you think would happen?¡±


    Her face turns toward me, still widened in fear. ¡°I didn¡¯t have a choice. They were going to arrest me for possession and distribution. Michelle was an undercover cop!¡±


    I lean in closer until she can feel the breath over her skin. ¡°There¡¯s no way they could have charged you with that.¡±


    ¡°I was under arrest!¡±


    ¡°They were bluffing, and you were stupid enough to take the bait.¡± I almost feel sorry for her as her pupils dte and her mouth opens in silent protest. Tears stream down her face in little rivers. ¡°You ced your bets on the wrong horse, and you lost. Now it¡¯s time to pay the consequences.¡±


    ¡°What will you do to me?¡±


    Oh, everything.


    I¡¯m so close to her that I can hear the small little movements she makes as she tries to get away from me.


    ¡°You don¡¯t get to ask questions.¡±


    ¡°I just want to know what¡¯s going to happen-ah!¡±


    I p her face again, not liking the vicious look she throws at me.


    ¡°Your only purpose is to obey me without question and ept your punishments like a good girl.¡±


    I brush my lips over her jawline and kiss the shell of her ear. She trembles violently.


    ¡°The rest, I¡¯d like to keep a surprise.¡±


    Sobs break through her lips again. ¡°Tommy, please.¡±


    I pull away as a sh of annoyance seizes me. I grab her jaw in my hands and squeeze. ¡°No more begging. It does nothing except piss me off.¡±


    She nods in my hands and I release her mouth, reaching for the knife at my side. She pales when I grab it, shaking her head. ¡°Please-¡±


    I p her face gently. ¡°What did I just say?¡±


    ¡°No begging.¡±


    ¡°Good girl.¡±


    A sh of red seems to sear across her gaze for a moment, and I smile to myself. Good, she hasn¡¯t lost all of her fire. I¡¯ll take great pleasure in taking it away, and reducing her to an obedient, mindless ve.


    Using the knife, I snap off the duct tape and she immediately rubs her wrists. Then I flick my fingers up, motioning for her to stand up. She obeys, the ruined blouse and bra falling to the floor. Such a quick learner.


    ¡°Take off your pants,¡± I say, pointing at them with the knife.


    Mnie eyes the tray filled with des recklessly, and I sidestep her, blocking them from her reach. I wave my knife in front of her eyes, shaking my head.


    I can¡¯t help but run my hand over her bare shoulder, staring at her gorgeous tits. ¡°If you use any weapon you might find in this house against me, I¡¯ll use what I have against you. Believe me, sweetie, you don¡¯t want that. You better be sure that you can take me out.¡±


    She backs against the wall, wide-eyed, and makes a small, terrified sound as she hits the concrete. I hold the knife to her throat, not really serious, just ying with her. I let out a long sigh as my free hand reaches down to grope both of her tits and then I grab her hand, cing it over the huge bulge in my cks. I want her to feel how hard she makes me.


    Her face is still frozen in terror. It doesn¡¯t really turn me on. I want her fighting me.


    ¡°Take off your pants.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she breathes.


    I use the t of the de to p her cheek. ¡°Did you forget who¡¯s in charge? I own every part of you.¡±


    She flinches.


    ¡°What did I say?¡±


    She hesitates. I p her a bit harder, earning another re from her. ¡°You said to obey.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I did. I also said that your body belongs to me.¡±


    Her eyes ze. ¡°You don¡¯t own me. I own me.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m the one with the knife.¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you go fuck yourself?¡±


    My cock stirs in my pants when she speaks to me like that. Why is it that I don¡¯t mind when she gets all fired up, but with anyone else, I¡¯d blow a fucking fuse?


    Blood rushes to my cock and I suddenly realize how beautiful she looks when her face is flushed and her bright eyes gleam at me like that. I grab her neck and seal my lips against her mouth, which is soft at first, but it hardens almost instantly. She tries to get away from me, twisting out of my arms, but I grab a fistful of her hair and yank until she cringes in pain. Her skin is on fire against mine, despite how she twists away. My hand moves down, circling around her tits and then back down her smooth stomach, then at the waistband of her jeans.


    She turns her head away from me and moans, and I¡¯m not sure if it¡¯s from pain or pleasure. All fucking control is gone from my head; all I can see is the topless, hot girl in my arms, who needs my cock driven deep inside her.


    I unzip her jeans, tucking the knife back into the sheath. They hug her hips tightly and I tug hard, exposing her ckce, see-through panties and a tantalizing length of thigh. I smile against her ear, tracing my fingers over the delicate fabric.


    ¡°What¡¯s this, hon? You don¡¯t strike me as a girl with a lot of boyfriends. Did you buy it for yourself so you could feel sexy? Or did you buy it for me?¡±


    She sends me a withering look that pierces through my chest. ¡°Get away from me. I never wanted you.¡±


    ¡°You are such a liar.¡±


    She tightens her thighs together as I slip my hand underneath them, cupping her pussy with my hand.


    ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± she whispers.


    ¡°So you won¡¯t be wet, right? If I move my hands a little-¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t!¡±


    My fingers curve into her slick pussy and I watch her face soften against her will. Her mouth parts as I sink my finger into her tight pussy, and I lean into her, my cock jumping in my cks. All I can think about is how she would feel around me. She touches my waist and her face tilts up, meeting my lips. The sensation of her hands on my body is overpowering. Dizzying. I want her.


    She squeezes me slightly and kisses me back hungrily, her tongue sweeping in my mouth. I¡¯m so surprised that I can barely process it. I just give in to how incredible she feels. Her hand moves even lower, circling around to-


    My hand grabs her wrist as she takes the handle of the knife strapped to my waist, and she pulls away, screaming. The cer echoes with myughter as my nerves singe. She almost fucking got me. What would Jack say? A surge of heat rushes up my chest.Exclusive ? material by N?(/v)elDrama.Org.


    ¡°Nice try.¡±


    Mnie¡¯s eyes widen again as I take the knife in my hands.


    ¡°This is what you want?¡± I hold it out to her. ¡°Go ahead, take it. Take it.¡±


    It trembles in the palm of my hand. I can see the struggle in her eyes as she debates whether to risk her life with me. Her eyes dart back toward it. I can see her muscles tensing, ready to spring.


    ¡°Fuck you and your games.¡±


    Laughing, I slip the knife back into the sheath and shrug my shoulders.


    ¡°What kind of chance would I have against a sick freak like you?¡±


    Her eyes narrow at me in contempt and her mouth twists in disgust, and for the first time I feel something stab at me. She¡¯s hurled insults at me before, but she¡¯s never really meant them.


    It¡¯s true. I am sick.


    Still, it doesn¡¯t feel nice to have that thrown in my face.


    I don¡¯t say anything as I back away from her and leave the room, scooping up the knives as I leave. Then I grab the duffel bag sitting just outside the room and bring it inside. She¡¯s still backed in the corner, her pants around her ankles. Her eyes are all over the ck duffel bag.


    I take out a pair of padded handcuffs without a word, and her expression shifts.


    ¡°I-I¡¯m sorry, okay?¡±


    ¡°No, you¡¯re not, but you will be after a few days of this.¡±


    Mnie runs across the room, kicking off her jeans. I yank her back by her wrist and she screams in pain. I p one handcuff over her wrist and then I force her to sit on the ground, handcuffing her behind her back around a support beam. Her eyes wrinkle in puzzlement as I wrap pieces of foam around her legs, and handcuff her ankles together. I wrap more around her arms, and then I tape them shut. I slip a heavy blindfold over her eyes, and then noise-canceling headphones over her ears. She won¡¯t be able to hear, see, or feel anything for the next day or two, depending on how long I want to keep her like this.


    Imagine floating in space and not being able to see, hear, touch, taste, or feel anything for hours. Without stimtion, the mind makes up things-visions. Most people go crazy in a few days. Theck of stimtion is torture. The CIA uses it, or so I¡¯ve heard. I¡¯ve never had the opportunity to try it on anyone.


    Sick freak like you.


    A ripple of anger runs through me and I stand up, grabbing the empty bag as I walk back outside, shutting the light off and mming the door. My footsteps echo loudly as I walk up the basement stairs, my mind running with poisonous thoughts. I was stupid to let it go that far with her. I shouldn¡¯t take so many risks. She¡¯s a federal witness and I¡¯ve a job to do. There are several weeks until the trial.


    I have to break her down, but I can¡¯t lose control of myself. That means touching her as little as possible. My heart sinks as I open the trapdoor and hurl the duffel bag on the crappy kitchen table. I yank open the fridge and find it stocked with supplies. I grab a couple beers, knowing that one won¡¯t be enough.


    I already let my guard down with her once.


    It won¡¯t happen again.

 4-15

    MELANIE


    Survival mode.


    It means letting go of all emotions: your fear, anxiety, stress, hope, whatever. Letting go and doing whatever¡¯s necessary to survive. The moment he grabbed me at the motel, I knew what was in store for me. I knew I wasn¡¯ting home except in a body bag.


    I fought like hell to get out of his grasp, but he knocked me out, and when I woke up I was on the floor of his SUV, handcuffed.


    I had my chance and I blew it.


    Then I expected him to kill me immediately. I thought he would take one of those knives and drive it right in my stomach. Why didn¡¯t he?


    Confusion swirls inside my head, numbing the fear choking my breath. My mind still can¡¯t really rejoice at the fact that I¡¯m still alive. In my mind, I¡¯m still dead. It¡¯s only a matter of time.


    The few sounds I hear are my own thoughts, bouncing in my head like a cavernous echo chamber. Every other sensation is blocked out. I can¡¯t feel a thing or hear my own voice, even when I open my mouth and force air through. Even though it hurts my throat, I can¡¯t hear a damn thing.


    I feel the cold and the rough surface of the support beam on my back. They¡¯re the only things reminding me what happened to me. I strain my wrists against the handcuffs, not feeling a thing with the foam wrapped around them. My throat vibrates with frustration.


    How could I be so stupid? Jack sent Tommy after me to settle the score. Of course he would. Melissa assured me I would be safe with the FBI, but Jack¡¯s people nabbed me right out in the open.


    Tommy freaking O¡¯Sullivan. The same guy who asked me out dozens of times, who I rejected dozens of times. The man with the awful reputation-he¡¯s the one who grabbed me. Now I¡¯m in that nut job¡¯s clutches, and he¡¯s going to y with me before he eats me.


    I¡¯m fucked.


    My stomach clenches as I remember his hands all over my naked skin, how it heated under his touch and the electricity between our lips. I expected him to sink that knife between my ribs, but he didn¡¯t.


    He¡¯s fucking with me. He made me wet and touched me where he had no right to touch. The way heughed in my face when he felt my arousal all over his hands brings a surge of self-loathing in my chest.


    Fuck him. Twisted, evil piece of shit.


    Bitter, icy tears slide out of my eyes. The way I see it, I have a few options:


    1. Attempt an escape.


    2. Build a rapport with Tommy, and then attempt an escape.


    3. Fight Tommy, die anyway.


    I exhale through my mouth, licking my dry lips. I¡¯ve no chance winning a fight against an experienced killer like Tommy, so number three is off limits. An escape attempt now would just set me back while his guard is up. Clearly I¡¯m meant to be spared for a while. I have to wait for the opportune moment, when he thinks I¡¯m safely under his control. Maybe I could manipte him. He likes me. He wants to fuck me. I could use that to my advantage. I could get to him, maybe even get him to care for me.


    Yeah, right.


    But at least I could get him to maybe let his guard down. I nearly did just now.


    Then something wonderful strikes my brain. He won¡¯t kill me. Not yet. Not until the trial date. That¡¯s why I¡¯m still alive. They need my testimony to change. They need me, because the feds have enough evidence to put them away, even if I disappear now.


    I need to appear as though I¡¯m submitting to Tommy¡¯s demands, even if he disgusts me. Even if the thought of touching him makes me want to throw up.


    Angry, desperate thoughts keep me upied for hours, or what I suspect are hours. They circle around my brain, over and over. Then boredom settles in. Stifling, inescapable boredom. I¡¯m floating in space, a sea of ck nothing for endless miles. I open my mouth to scream-maybe the noise will attract his attention. Struggling against the handcuffs is fruitless, but there¡¯s still nothing. Nothing, nothing, and even more nothing.


    Fucking hell, I¡¯m already losing my mind. Where the hell is he?


    There¡¯s nothing except the wing hunger in my belly that tells me I¡¯ve been locked up for hours. I skipped dinner, so it¡¯s impossible to say how long it has been. I try counting in my head. There¡¯s nothing to distract me, so I count until two thousand, and then the boredom suffocates me again.


    HELP! HELP!


    Is it in my head, or can I hear my voice, raw with pain? Suddenly there¡¯s a sound that makes my heart thunder in my chest. My dad¡¯s low voice, sobbing.


    ¡°Don¡¯t hurt me anymore! Please, I can¡¯t take it! I¡¯ll tell you anything-¡±


    DAD!


    That fucking monster took my parents, too. I can hear him next door, crying in pain. Tommy¡¯s cruel voice echoes in my ears.


    ¡°You should have told your daughter what would happen to her parents if she talked. Don¡¯t youmunicate?¡±


    FUCK YOU!


    All thoughts of manipting Tommy drown under my towering wave of fury. I want to rip him limb from limb. How dare he hurt them? They¡¯re innocent. They don¡¯t deserve any of this.


    A high, shrill female sound makes me retch and I try to tear myself from the handcuffs, sobbing. I can¡¯t hear any of it, of course. Wait, what? I can¡¯t hear, so how could I have heard my dad?


    Confused, tears still itching on my face, I sit against the support beam. It¡¯s possible that the headphones turned off. Perhaps he has a switch somewhere, to turn them off and on.


    Or I could be losing my mind.


    I¡¯m not losing my mind. I heard them.


    My teeth grind together as another small shriek pierces my ears,ing from the wall across me. I scream for his name. My voice vibrates in my head.


    Then finally light explodes in the room. I see it through the blindfold and I shut my eyes painfully and bend my head toward the ground to study the porous cement floor beneath the blindfold, slowly opening my lids. My body jumps violently when I feel hands on my head, tugging the blindfold. There were no footsteps alerting me to another person¡¯s presence.


    That¡¯s when I realize that everything I experienced was just a vision-or a dream. Jesus Christ, I¡¯m already losing it and it¡¯s only been, what? A day? He pulls the headphones off my head, and I hear my raw voice still calling out for Tommy.


    Rough fingers grasp my chin and force me to look up into his burning eyes. ¡°Have you learned your lesson?¡±


    I want to spit in his face.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    The fog clears from my head, but the terror of the possibility of my parents being held here doesn¡¯t disappear. They found me. They could¡¯ve found them, too.


    Stick with the n.


    He reaches around my back and uncuffs my wrists, tearing the foam away from my arms. My muscles scream as my arms bend to my sides. They¡¯re sore after being stuck in that awkward position for hours.


    Finally confronted with my captor, I grind my teeth together as a sickening feeling leaves me mmy and cold.


    It was wishful thinking to believe that he needed me alive. Maybe he doesn¡¯t.


    Tommy changed into a casual button-up shirt and jeans. When he leans in, I can smell the shampoo he used and a bit of that intoxicating cedar note. His face is still smooth shaven. I need to study him, learn all I can about what makes him tick.


    Thest handcuff flies off my legs and I sit there for a moment, hair hanging around my face. I breathe heavily.


    ¡°Get up.¡±


    He speaks in a high, cold voice I¡¯ve never heard before.


    Don¡¯t be afraid.


    I let tears gather in my eyes before I obey hismand and then I get a glimpse of his broad chest and I let myself fall into his arms, sobbing. My arms tighten around his back as I nuzzle my head into his neck, sniffing loudly. He doesn¡¯t move a muscle as I tremble in his arms.


    Act upset.


    ¡°I¡¯ll do whatever you want, just please don¡¯t do that to me again.¡±


    It¡¯s hard to pretend to be weepy when what I really want to do is m my knee into his groin, especially for what he did to me yesterday. My body shakes with unbridled rage, but I hope Tommy mistakes it for fear.


    The sound of my shaking voice fills the cold dungeon. He doesn¡¯t respond to my distress. He doesn¡¯t even make a sound. Under my fingers, his body feels way too hard. Then Tommy grabs my arms from his back and pushes me slightly, hazel eyes filled with suspicion.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±


    Damn it. Didn¡¯t work.


    ¡°Where are we going?¡±N?velDrama.Org (C) content.


    ¡°Shut up.¡±


    I stumble forward as he shoves me. Suddenly he grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks my neck back as if he¡¯s about to slit my throat.


    Jesus.


    ¡°Get fucking moving.¡±


    ¡°Tommy, please-¡±


    ¡°What did I say? No begging.¡±


    There¡¯s a whirlwind of nk walls as he spins me around at the top of the stairs. We enter a closet, Tommy¡¯s hands roughly shoving me through. Then the door opens and he thrusts me forward. My hands fly out as Ind on the linoleum floor of what looks like the kitchen.


    I turn around on my hands and knees to see Tommy advancing toward me, a cruel smile on his face.


    He¡¯s going to kill me right now.


    Naked, helpless, I gasp for air, crawling on my hands and knees toward the chair. My heart pounds in my chest. Everything disappears when you think you¡¯re going to die. Everything. My disgust at crawling on all fours like a dog, my love for my parents, the logic in my head, telling me that there¡¯s no way he¡¯ll spare me, all of it drops away. Every cell inside me screams for me to do whatever it takes to save my skin.


    Beg him. Touch him. Do something!


    ¡°Please, I don¡¯t want to die! Don¡¯t kill me!¡±


    He stands above me like a terrible god, his hands shoved deep inside his pockets. ¡°I will if you don¡¯t shut the fuck up and stop begging me.¡±


    I make a shrill sound that I hardly recognize as my voice, but he smiles and stoops down to my level. I flinch away from him when he reaches out with a finger and strokes my cheek.


    ¡°Get up.¡±


    There¡¯s no feeling in my legs. I grasp the chair sitting next to me and haul myself upright, my stomach caving in on itself as he gets up with me and pushes me into the chair.


    ¡°T-Tommy, I¡¯m sorry. Tell Jack I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    ¡°Jack doesn¡¯t give a shit about you.¡±


    I bite my lip hard enough to make a small tear. My instinct screams to beg him for my life, but he¡¯s already warned me enough times.


    ¡°Why am I here?¡±


    He ces both hands on the arms of my chair and leans in so that I¡¯m inhaling his breath. ¡°Now why would I tell you that?¡±


    Stunned, I sit back and blink furiously. Keep it together.


    ¡°This is about the trial, right? You want me to change my testimony?¡±


    ¡°Right now, what I want is for you to keep your fucking mouth shut. From now on, you don¡¯t speak unless I ask you a direct question. Understand?¡±


    My mouth trembles for a moment. ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± He twists his hands around the arms, hazel eyes still boring into mine. ¡°Now, I could keep you in the basement for twelve hours a day if I want. Obey me, and you¡¯ll get to stay upstairs.¡±


    So I¡¯m basically to be treated like a dog. The clenching, horrible feeling in my chest loosens as I slowly breathe air into my lungs. They¡¯re not killing me immediately.


    ¡°Believe me, you want to stay upstairs.¡±


    ¡°Can I at least get some clothes?¡±


    A low chuckle reverberates from his throat as his eyes slowly strip me up and down. Heat rolls from them. ¡°You just spoke out of turn, but I¡¯ll let it slide. Maybe you¡¯ll get clothester, if you behave.¡±


    My hands ball into fists.


    ¡°All right. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    He tugs my arm and I rise to my feet, having no idea where the hell we¡¯re going. Tommy slides up behind me, and a cold hand grasps the back of my neck as he leads me upstairs. I have no idea where he¡¯s taking me, and blood keeps rushing to my head, making me sway on the steps.


    He won¡¯t hurt you, he won¡¯t hurt you, he won¡¯t hurt you.


    We reach the top of the stairs and pass by a bedroom, which I assume is his, and then he leads me into a white bathroom. A tub filled with hot water. He just wants me to take a bath.


    Thank God.


    Tommy nudges me inside and closes the door behind him.


    ¡°Take your panties off.¡±


    I turn around, facing him as my heart begins to thud against my chest. My head fills with visions of me forcing his head under the water until he drowns, and then I make myself to drop my gaze from his steady, rxed eyes.


    ¡°Take them off,¡± he repeats. ¡°Or I¡¯ll do it for you.¡±


    A smile flickers on Tommy¡¯s smooth face, and even though it¡¯s condescending I feel a swooping sensation in my body. Suddenly I¡¯m aware of how alone we are and how damn quiet it is. I can hear his breathing, slightly faster than mine. There¡¯s a razor on the sink that I could seize. I could sh his throat. He follows my eyes and his smile widens.


    ¡°Go for it.¡±


    I won¡¯t fall for it. For all I know, he nted it there to see if I would take it.


    Without breaking his gaze, I bend over and slide my panties off my legs, watching how his eyes flick to my pussy and how he clenches his hands into fists to keep himself from touching me.


    ¡°Get-¡± he clears his throat, ¡°get in the bath.¡±


    Inwardly smiling to myself, I turn around and hear him slowly exhale as I walk toward the long, white tub and slowly slip into the hot water. I hiss with pleasure as it instantly floods my skin with warmth. Tommy sits on the edge of the tub and watches me with a look filled with ravenous hunger.


    Now¡¯s my chance.


    ¡°So how did you like sensory deprivation? It¡¯s not what I usually use on the people I-ah-deal with.¡±


    The way he says it bring a chill over my skin, even though I¡¯m submerged in a hot bath. ¡°What do you-what happens to the people?¡±


    ¡°I kill them,¡± he says, giving me an icy smile.


    ¡°Why would you tell me that?¡±


    He shrugs, still smiling. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter if you know. Not anymore.¡±


    Cold disgust rises in my throat. I fucking hate him. If he wanted me dead, he¡¯d have done it already. All this intimidation and fear is just to keep me in line.


    It¡¯s working like a charm.


    ¡°You need me alive.¡± My voice wavers. As much as I believe my theory, I can¡¯t shake the fact that Tommy is a man who¡¯d love to wash his hands in my blood.


    He cocks his head. ¡°Who says I need you alive? Maybe I¡¯m just fucking around with you. Jack gives me the people he wants to disappear, and I take my sweet time breaking them before I finish the job.¡±


    He looks at me as if I¡¯m a piece of furniture.


    I¡¯m nothing to him.


    Cold tears run down my face. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because it makes me feel alive.¡±


    My chest freezes as I stare right into Tommy¡¯s nk eyes. I thought I was dealing with a man who could be manipted, but he tortures and kills people for a living. I never knew. No, I had no fucking clue.


    What makes you think he gives a flying fuck about you?


    My lips tremble with an unspoken plea, and I search Tommy¡¯s vacant face, hoping to see a scrap of human emotion somewhere in there.


    ¡°I meant, why me?¡±


    There¡¯s no sound except for the soap hissing on the water and the slow drip of the faucet.


    ¡°It¡¯s nothing personal.¡± Then a smile suddenly appears. ¡°I can¡¯t deny that having you all to myself was tempting.¡±


    A shiver runs up my thigh when thest word falls from his lips. Having you all to myself. I have to believe he¡¯s capable of feeling something for me, because otherwise I¡¯m fucked.


    The soapthers in the sponge, and I raise it to my arms, water dripping over my skin. I keep my head down and try to pretend that my heart isn¡¯t hammering against my chest like a jackhammer. His greedy eyes follow my hands soaping my body, but he makes no movement to touch me. Then I sweep my hair to the side and give him a pointed look.


    ¡°Could you help me?¡±


    A slick smile spreads over his face as he edges closer and takes the soapy loofah from my hands. He rolls up his sleeve and slowly massages my back.


    Victory.


    ¡°I know what you¡¯re doing, you know.¡±


    ¡°Doing what?¡±


    Tommy¡¯sughter burns my cheeks. The sponge moves lower on my back and his fingertips touch my jaw. I follow his fingers, looking up Tommy¡¯s rolled sleeves to his face.


    ¡°I meant it when I said you were beautiful.¡±


    Silence follows his echoed words. What a strange thing to say to me. Even stranger is the response I feel in my chest, all that confusing warmth. What does he want from me?


    ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°Do you really think that getting me to fuck you will change anything?¡±


    It might.


    My stomach sinks, but my voice is steady. ¡°Maybe I don¡¯t want to die without gettingid first.¡±


    A grin lights up his face. ¡°When was thest time?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Maybe a year.¡±


    Shock momentarily ripples across his face like an electric current, and he pauses his hand. Then the sneer returns to his face. ¡°Liar.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the truth.¡± I lean forward and hug my knees, suddenly disgusted with myself. All the heart in my n is gone. It only took him five seconds to see right through me.


    It¡¯s hopeless.


    ¡°I don¡¯t believe it,¡± he says, resuming the sponging of my back.


    My fists clench in the bath. ¡°With you Mafia assholes in the club every week, no guy wanted to be anywhere near me.¡±


    He pauses again and the loofah slips from his fingers. I feel the spread of his palm against my wet back like an electrical wire. His hungry gaze freezes me into ce.


    ¡°They weren¡¯t real men.¡±


    I know what he wants to fucking say. I¡¯m a real man. I would have treated you right.


    No, you wouldn¡¯t, you fucking jerk. You would have used me just like the rest of them.


    It pisses me off.


    I reach and pull the plug to the bath, shivering as the water spirals down and descends over my knees. Tommy still sits there, looking at me as if I¡¯m a meal. I know I¡¯m supposed to touch him, to make him feel wanted, but I just can¡¯t stomach it.


    Your life depends on it, moron.


    My hair drips as I stand up, and I wring it dry. Tommy holds out a towel for me, but I only briefly pat myself down before climbing out. He eyes my gleaming legs as I step out of the bath. I make a beeline straight for him.


    The grin on his face falters somewhat. ¡°You¡¯re getting water all over the floor.¡±


    I walk closer to him until my nipples brush his t-shirt, and then I wrap my arms around his solid waist. His eyes widen in surprise.


    ¡°Are you a real man, Tommy? Do you want to show me what it¡¯d be like to be with one? I¡¯ll admit it, I¡¯m curious.¡±


    I don¡¯t think his eyes could get any hotter, and then I move my hands down his abdomen, over his ass, which makes him smile, and then my hand anchors over his iron-stiff cock. It¡¯s rigid in his pants. Suddenly he grabs my throat and ms me into the wall, hard enough to make stars burst in my vision.


    ¡°Oh no you don¡¯t.¡± He seethes in my face. ¡°I¡¯m in control, not you.¡±


    I guess I hit a nerve.


    The hand around my throat tightens as his mouth crushes against mine. Breath leaves my chest as electricity spreads over my skin, surprising me. I don¡¯t want him. No, that¡¯s a lie. I¡¯ve wanted him since I met him, rebelled against my attraction to him to save my own skin. Now I have to use it to save myself. The sane part of me screams to shove him away. He¡¯s a threat, but I have to make him believe me, and that means I have to see the man behind the monster.


    It isn¡¯t hard to let go and pretend I¡¯m somewhere else. Maybe I¡¯m at his house after a nice date with him. There was a time when I might¡¯ve wanted to walk down the street, holding his hand. I would¡¯ve seen how much he desired me, and been ttered by it. My cheeks would flush when he cupped my face to kiss me goodbye after he dropped me back at my house. His face looks different now. He doesn¡¯t look like my captor; he could be anyone. I touch his furrowed brows, which slowly lighten as I lean into him and seal my lips against his. The hand around my throat loosens.


    ¡°I wanted you, too,¡± I whisper against his lips.


    Suddenly a real smile spreads over Tommy¡¯s face, and it temporarily robs me of breath. That cruel darkness that makes him look like a crazed killer disappears. His eyes flicker as he holds me close, breathing into my lips.


    ¡°I knew it.¡±


    My hands move to explore Tommy¡¯s lean abdomen, reaching under his t-shirt to feel the hard bumps of his abs. God, he has a hot body. All this time he was hiding it under suits and I had no idea. I lift his shirt and we break apart, Tommy¡¯s lips red as he pulls it off. The sight of his broad chest makes my mouth water. I¡¯m aching to run my hands over him, and that gorgeous dent right under his Adam¡¯s apple begs to be kissed.


    He wraps a thick arm around my waist and pulls me against his chest. Both of us sigh at the contact of our bodies. Jesus, he¡¯s so warm. My breasts tten against his body and then I reach down to move my palm over the bump in his jeans. His lips travel down my neck, kissing my bare skin. His movements be more frenzied, and I dig my fingers into his hair. My tongue pushes through his lips to taste him, and a sudden thrill shoots up my thighs. He sucks on my bottom lip before pulling away, and we spend another moment staring at each other with barely restrained lust.


    ¡°If I knew how good you looked without clothes, I would have done this a long time ago.¡±


    Tommy smiles at me and strokes my cheek with his thumb.


    Good, charm him. tter him.


    Suddenly the moment ends. His face twists with another one of his cruel grins, and he no longer looks like the beautiful, innocent man I¡¯ve never seen before. Tommy is back.


    ¡°You fucking bitch.¡± He whispers as he palms my tits.


    I gasp as the contact makes my pussy clench hard.


    ¡°Sex is not supposed to be a fucking reward for you.¡±


    My eyes sh. ¡°So you were going to fuck me against my will?¡±


    The smile on his face makes my stomach flutter. ¡°I was going to make you beg for me. And you will.¡±


    I doubt it, considering I¡¯m faking everything right now.


    ¡°Where¡¯s the fight in you? Why are you being so-¡± Then he stops, smiling suddenly as if something just urred to him. ¡°Come with me.¡±


    No, we¡¯re not supposed to leave.


    ¡°But-don¡¯t you want to-¡±


    ¡°Come.¡±


    Tommy pulls his shirt back on and I follow him downstairs,pletely naked. Thoroughly disheartened, I descend the stairs. It¡¯s fucking cold down there, and there are splinters on the cheap wooden stairs. They creak loudly as we descend them.


    ¡°You must be pretty hungry.¡±


    I am, actually. Theck of outside light doesn¡¯t let me know what time it is, but I know that it has been long enough to make my insides gnaw with hunger. He points to the chair.


    ¡°Sit.¡±


    I take a seat as Tommy moves past me, opening the door to the fridge. The light spills onto the kitchen tiles and I lick my lips when he removes a thick red steak. Bewildered, I watch as he sets it on the kitchen counter and gets a pan from underneath the stove, heating it with olive oil immediately.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    He nces over and gives me a smile. ¡°What¡¯s it look like?¡± He sprinkles a generous amount of salt on the steak, grinds pepper over it, and then seasons the other side.


    What is this, some kind of trick?


    My eyes nce to the door. His back is turned toward me. It¡¯s less than twenty-five meters. My thighs tense under the table as I imagine myself sprinting out the door.


    ¡°Don¡¯t bother.¡±


    I jump in my seat when I hear the sudden hiss of the steak being dropped on the hot pan. The ambrosial smell of cooking meat wafts across my nose as I watch the steak hiss and pop in the pan. My tongue sweeps over my lips, and after a few minutes, I watch him turn the steak over with a pair of tongs. Dripping, fatty, delicious steak. The smell saturates the air and my stomach growls. He takes the steak off the pan and pours red wine over the pan to deze it, and then adds a knob of butter and then pours the sauce over the steak. The dark-red sauce pools around the steak, and then he turns off the burners. He takes the te in both hands and approaches the table with a smile I don¡¯t trust. He sets the steak across the table from me.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I say bracingly, reaching for it.


    He takes my hand before I grab the te. ¡°Not so fast, sweetie.¡±


    God, that fucking name. It still pisses me off. My stomach roils when he smoothes his thumb over my hand.


    What the hell has he nned?


    ¡°If you want to eat, you¡¯re going to have to work for it.¡±


    ¡°Work for it?¡±

 4-16

    Tommy lets my hand go and moves the wooden chair so that he sits in front of me, a wicked grin on his face. ¡°You¡¯ll have to suck my cock.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    My mouth gapes open stupidly as he lets his arm rest on the table, checking his watch.


    ¡°And you¡¯ll have to make mee in under three minutes, or you won¡¯t get to eat.¡±


    ¡°What the fuck is the matter with you?¡±


    His eyes glimmer with mischief. ¡°If you don¡¯t do as I say, you won¡¯t eat. It¡¯s that simple.¡±


    I let out a harshugh. ¡°You won¡¯t let me starve to death.¡±


    Tommy leans forward, his brown hair brushing his eyes. ¡°It¡¯s just a blowjob, hon. You might even like it.¡±


    ¡°Fuck you!¡±


    The kitchen echoes with hisughter. ¡°What¡¯s the matter? You were all over me upstairs,¡± he says in a low, gritty voice. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re shy.¡±


    I curl my lips under my teeth. ¡°I¡¯m not going to suck your cock to eat food! I¡¯m not your whore!¡±


    Suddenly he¡¯s out of the chair and his hands wrap around my throat like hot brands. My heart squeezes painfully when he stands between my legs, the fabric of his jeans bunched where his cock stiffens.


    ¡°That¡¯s where you¡¯re wrong. You¡¯re mine. I get to do whatever I want with you, whenever I want.¡± The fucking bastard smiles at me. ¡°I¡¯m giving you a choice. All you have to do is get me off in under three minutes, and you¡¯ll have food.¡±


    As far as I¡¯m concerned, that¡¯s not much of a fucking choice. I won¡¯t be bullied into giving him a blowjob. Doing whatever it takes to build rapport is one thing, but this is something else entirely.


    He wants to humiliate me. Break me down.


    I won¡¯t let him.


    ¡°I¡¯m not doing it.¡±


    ¡°Suit yourself.¡±


    His hot hands fly from my neck and then he sits down at the table across from me, pulling the steak closer. Tommy picks up the knife and fork beside the te and cuts into the steak.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    He ignores me as he cuts a juicy piece and pops it into his mouth. His eyes close with rapturous delight as his mouth chews the steak.


    Fucking bastard is going to eat it in front of me.


    Another charred piece of meat gets stabbed by Tommy¡¯s fork, which then swirls the piece of meat in the dark-red sauce. My stomach groans as steam rises from the cut steak, the aroma torture on my caved-in stomach walls.


    ¡°Why are you doing this to me?¡±


    He pauses between chewing to smile, but he doesn¡¯t say anything more. When he eats thest bite from the te, he stands up and drops it into the sink. I would have licked the sauce from the te. The hiss of water from the faucet is almost painful to hear.


    ¡°Can I have a drink of water?¡±


    Tommy takes a ss and fills a third of it with water. ¡°Here.¡±Exclusive ? material by N?(/v)elDrama.Org.


    Is this a fucking joke?


    The ss is cold in my hands, and I drain it in a small swallow. ¡°I need more. Please.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s all you get for now.¡±


    He takes the ss from me and sets it on the counter. Fire courses through my veins as he ces his hand on my shoulder. I shrug his hand off and walk in the direction of the closet.


    * * *


    Another night, or day, locked up in that wooden basement with every sensation ripped from my body. It does strange things to my mind. I wonder if the FBI is looking for me, or whether they¡¯ve already written me off as a lost cause. My parents will be out of their minds with worry.


    The only thing reminding me that I¡¯m still alive is my heartbeat and the gnawing pain in my stomach. It¡¯s terrible. I¡¯m horribly weakened by it. I¡¯ve already decided that I¡¯ll give in to Tommy. I¡¯ll get on my knees and put my head between his legs, even though it disgusts me. I just never thought I would be one of those girls, who sucks cock in exchange for something. It makes me sick to my stomach, even though I¡¯m only doing it because I¡¯ve no choice, because the alternative is to starve.


    Let him think he¡¯s won. Don¡¯t give up.


    The little voice inside fills me with courage I never knew I had. Sure, I stood up to Vincent plenty of times and told the rest of them to fuck off, but I never knew I could survive something like this. Someone like him. He¡¯ll think I¡¯ve lost, but I¡¯ll be the one who wins this battle. I¡¯m choosing to do it for my own reasons.


    A dark male voice suddenly hisses in my ear: Sure you are, sweetheart. I¡¯ll let you think that.


    He¡¯s right. What a fucking joke.


    My throat is parched, the thirst for once overpowering the hollow pain in my stomach.


    TOMMY! TOMMY!


    What if I die of dehydration? My lips try to form his name over and over again. The air tears my dry throat, but I don¡¯t care.


    HELP ME!


    Someone must be able to hear me beyond these walls.


    Pain pierces my eyeballs as white explodes overhead. I imagine leather shoes clipping on the wooden floorboards so that I don¡¯t jump when his hands lift the headphones and blindfold from my head. I shut my eyes as every sensation returns to my body. It¡¯s so loud and terrifying that I wince at the sound of the metal chains clinking together. They fall from my limbs.


    ¡°There¡¯s no point,¡± he says as he bends closer to me. ¡°There¡¯s no one around for miles. No one can hear you.¡±


    ¡°Water,¡± I hear my voice croak. ¡°Please.¡±


    His hand curls around mine and tugs me to my feet. I¡¯m so weak with hunger that it hurts to stand up. The empty, stabbing pain worsens when I¡¯m standing upright.


    Tommy wears a ck, slim suit that reminds me of the other Mafia bastards I hate. His face is impassive as he watches me struggle to my feet.


    ¡°I¡¯ll get you water upstairs. C¡¯mon.¡±


    The promise of water is enough to make me hurry up the steps, drained of energy as I am. Once again the cold makes me wrap my arms around myself. I shiver violently when we enter the chilly kitchen. My toes flex on the linoleum, and I spot a men¡¯s white t-shirt on the table. Something smells wonderful from a small pot sitting on the stove.


    Tommy heads for the sink and gets arge ss of water, filling it to the top. I take it from him and gulp it down. He looks at me with a cocked head, eyeing my body with unmistakable greed. As soon as I¡¯m done, he takes the ss away from me and moves into my space. My heart thumps hard against my chest as he wraps an arm around my waist, the other hand gently tilting my head back to face him. My breasts tten against the coarse fabric of his suit as he pulls me close.


    ¡°Are you hungry?¡±


    I somehow resist the urge to spit in his face. ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Good. I am, too.¡±


    He fists his hand in my hair and suddenly his soft lips breathe against mine. They¡¯re like liquid fire, spreading warmth to every surface of my body. They make me feel as if I¡¯ve just stepped into a sauna. His hand zes down my body, groping. I gasp at every pinch of his fingers and then he turns slightly so that his cock digs into my thigh. The cock that I¡¯m about to take into my mouth.


    I can just imagine my bright-red face when Tommy pulls away with a knowing grin.


    ¡°Are you ready to begin?¡±


    I nod, avoiding his eyes. I¡¯ll probably never be able to look him in the eyes after this.


    Tommy sits down in one of the chairs, the pot of stew or whatever it is so tantalizingly close. His erection strains against his cks. I kneel down to the floor, my knees hitting the hard surface. I bend forward as Tommy¡¯s encouraging smile bes a leer.


    ¡°I¡¯ll start the time when your lips are wrapped around my cock.¡±


    Oh, how generous of you.


    Seething, I grab his belt buckle and wind the leather belt out of the loops. I try to do it slowly, and I try to maintain eye contact with him as I unbutton his pants. I only want to do this once, and I have just three minutes.


    Three minutes. It seems impossible.


    He lifts himself slightly as I unzip his cks and slowly tug them down to his knees, exposing his muscled thighs. A pair of ck boxer briefs barely keeps his cock in ce. I tug his briefs down, swallowing hard as his long, thick cock bounces from a bed of trimmed, dark hair.


    ¡°Like what you see?¡±

 4-17

    I ce my palms t on his warm thighs, facing that monstrosity he calls his cock. It¡¯s way too fucking big.


    ¡°I can¡¯t fit that thing in my mouth!¡±


    He reaches forward and strokes the side of my face. ¡°You tter me.¡±


    I position myself over hisp and I gently take his cock in my hand, eyeing therge crown and the bead of liquid already pooling at the tip.


    ¡°Remember, no teeth.¡±


    Fuck, wouldn¡¯t that be the greatest revenge? To take him in my mouth and bite down hard? That asshole would feel it for weeks. Of course, he¡¯d probably kill me.


    ¡°When you¡¯re ready, then.¡±


    My eyes squeeze shut; I bend my face down until my lips bump into the smooth, shiny flesh. I take an exploratory lick, tasting the bitter precum, but his cock just tastes like skin. It¡¯s a huge relief. I quickly wrap my lips around the head and open my eyes, trying to remember everything about giving a blowjob. They liked it when I went deep. Tommy groans as I suck the head, flicking my tongue across the skin. I grab the base of him with one hand and I widen my mouth to take him in. He¡¯s impossibly wide. So much so that I gag almost immediately. I force my head down again, trying to take the full length of him, but he¡¯s just too fucking big.


    My hand grips him tightly and moves up and down as I work on his cock, getting moisture down the length of him. I feel Tommy¡¯s moans through my fingers. His hands wind themselves in my hair, and he attempts to grind his hips against me. He pushes my head down his cock, but I gag and pull away. Fuck. This isn¡¯t working!


    I suck his head, abandoning all hope of taking him all the way in, and my hand moves rapidly over the loose flesh.


    ¡°Not so fast,¡± he says, cing his hand over mine to still it. ¡°You have one minute, by the way.¡±


    My lips move sideways over the length of his cock, using my tongue to tease the underside. His thighs twitch and he utters a curse when I reach the base of his cock, and I suck.


    ¡°Jesus.¡±


    Suddenly a small series of beeps distracts me and Tommy utters a frustrated groan, looking angry that time is up already.


    ¡°Goddamn it, I was enjoying that.¡±


    I pull myself away from hisp, a hollow feeling stirring in my chest. I humiliated myself for nothing. He gives me a sad smile as he pulls on his briefs and cks, which he manages with difficulty from his throbbing erection.


    ¡°Do I get to try again?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    No? ¡°What do you mean, no?¡±


    ¡°Generally, when people say ¡®no¡¯ they mean¡­no.¡±


    He gives me a dimpled smirk as he ties his belt around his cks.


    ¡°When do I get to try again?¡±


    ¡°Tomorrow.¡±


    Holy fuck. I have to wait until tomorrow? Another twelve hours or whatever it is of starving? He turns his back on me and approaches the stove, grabbing a white ceramic bowl. Hedles the thick, dark soup into the bowl. There are carrots and potatoes inside, and it smells incredible. I lick my lips when he sets it down on the table.


    He catches my body before I can lunge at the bowl of stew and he forces me backward until the backs of my legs hit a chair. I sit down, glowering at his amused face.


    ¡°Sorry, hon. Maybe tomorrow.¡±


    The chair groans as he sits down in front of the bowl and digs in, even tearing off a chunk of bread and dipping it in the sauce. My hands clench underneath the table as I watch him devour the stew.


    ¡°You¡¯re really not going to let me eat? Can¡¯t I just have a little-¡±


    ¡°-No.¡±


    He won¡¯t even look at me. He can¡¯t even see how hungry I am, but he probably doesn¡¯t care anyway. A burning pressure builds behind my eyes and two small tears manage to squeeze out of them. The gnawing pain grows even worse with the smell of food and my lips tremble as I watch him spoon thest bit of soup. Then he uses his bread to mop the bowl clean.


    ¡°You arepletely heartless.¡±


    Tommy¡¯s eyes shift slightly. ¡°Yeah, I am.¡±


    I may as well have said that the sky is blue for all the effect it had on him.


    ¡°So you¡¯re just going to starve me to death, is that it?¡± My voice trembles with outrage.


    Oh God. Don¡¯t do this to yourself, Mnie. You won¡¯t get any pity from him.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll get me off next time. You just need to put your heart in it.¡±


    ¡°Fuck you.¡±


    He doesn¡¯t even blink. ¡°You can wear that t-shirt, if you want.¡±


    I grab the white t-shirt sitting on the table and pull it over my head. I¡¯ll take anything that creates a barrier between us. The thin shirt does little for the cold, but at least I feel less exposed.


    ¡°All right,¡± he says. ¡°Back downstairs.¡±


    My throat closes. ¡°No, please. I just came up here-¡°!¡±


    ¡°And now you¡¯re going back down, where you belong.¡±


    He takes my arm roughly and tugs me back toward the closet, but I dig in my heels, almost sobbing. ¡°Why can¡¯t I just stay up here? I won¡¯t run, I swear!¡±


    Tommy yanks my arm roughly. ¡°You told me to fuck off.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry!¡±


    ¡°Coming from your mouth, that doesn¡¯t mean shit.¡±


    He avoids my eyes as he straps me to the metal pole, and then every sensation is lost to me again.


    * * *


    I don¡¯t know how long I¡¯ve been without food at this point. Stabbing, sharp pains hit my stomach and the thought of food is almost nauseating. I spent hours leaking precious water from my eyes, too exhausted to yell. I can¡¯t hear it, anyway. No one can.


    Tommy kneels in front of me in the darkness. His hands wrap around my throat and he squeezes. My lungs burn as I twist around, but my hands are tied behind my back. I¡¯m helpless. Then his fingers loosen and I gasp a lungful of air.


    ¡°Please-stop!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to kill you, sweetie. You better fight me because I will kill you. Soon.¡±


    I make a funny sound-something like a squeak. ¡°No!¡±


    He leans in, his tie swinging as his mouth hisses near my ear. ¡°I¡¯m going to rip you open with those knives and y with your insides.¡±


    ¡°MOM!¡±


    I scream for my mother, terror that I¡¯ve never known before consuming my body. He will kill me. It¡¯s just a matter of time before he gets bored.


    ¡°Just do it,¡± I tell him. ¡°Kill me.¡±


    ¡°Soon.¡± He kisses my cheek and another sharp pain pierces my abdomen.


    He¡¯s already doing it, torturing me with some device as hisughter rings in my ears. Light sts my vision and he disappears. The headphones lift from my ears and the first sound I hear is a horrible, cracked scream. My blindfold flies from my head and I crack open my eyes. It¡¯s him.


    Another vision.


    Or was it? I¡¯m not so sure anymore.


    ¡°Please let me go. Please, I can¡¯t do this anymore.¡±


    ¡°Yes, you can.¡± He uncuffs my hands and removes the foam from my arms and then he stands up, expecting me to follow him.


    I try to stand up, and I copse to my knees. My arms shake from supporting my weight, but he wraps an arm around my waist and lifts me up. I¡¯m pinned to his side, so weak I can barely stand. How long have I been without food now?


    We move across the basement slowly, Tommy whispering sweet words of encouragement in my ear. Why the fuck does he bother?


    ¡°C¡¯mon, baby. Just one more step. That¡¯s it.¡±Exclusive ? material by N?(/v)elDrama.Org.


    Once we make it across the kitchen, I copse into a chair and put my head in my arms on the table. I¡¯m too exhausted to sit up. The sound of a ss hitting the table makes my head perk up, and I notice that it¡¯s filled with orange juice.


    ¡°Drink it.¡±


    I drain the ss in one swallow, nearly crying from relief when I feel the pleasant acidic taste over my tongue. Then I lean back, sighing as the sugar works its way through my veins, filling me with life again. It isn¡¯t enough, of course, but at least I don¡¯t feel as if I¡¯m dying of starvation anymore. Then I notice the te of pasta and chicken, sitting right across from me. It looks like pesto and some sort of mushroom sauce poured over the chicken breast. Good God, this man knows how to torture me.


    Tommy touches my shoulder and I look at him for the first time. He¡¯s back to wearing jeans and a t-shirt again.


    ¡°Were you in the basement, talking to me?¡±


    He lifts an eyebrow, but says nothing. He won¡¯t confirm or deny it, probably ¡¯cause he wants me to lose my fucking mind.


    ¡°Are you ready to try again?¡±


    I nod and his hand moves over the back of my neck, slowly massaging me. It¡¯ll be easier to get him off if I remove the t-shirt, so I do. I lift it from my head, hissing as the cold stings my bare flesh. He wets his lips as the shirt flies from my body. Greedy hands find every curve of my body. He yanks me close until I fall into hisp, and then his hot mouth finds my tits. His tongue leaves a zing, wet trail around my breast, his mouth sucking hard on my nipple. An involuntary gasp leaves my mouth when I feel the pulse between my legs. He bites and it¡¯s like an electric shock.


    No, I¡¯m not supposed to want him. He¡¯s supposed to want me.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    He groans and fastens his lips, sucking hard to give me a bright-red mark. I bite myself, hoping that the pain will overwhelm the pleasure, but it doesn¡¯t. All I want is more.


    ¡°I¡¯m getting you warmed up.¡±


    I slide off hisp and tear the belt from his waist. Enough of his fucking games. I just want to get this over with and ignore the throbbing heat in my pussy. His smile infuriates me. The struggle to bury my arousal must be in as day. I tear his boxers to his knees and fist his fully erect cock. My mouth swallows the head as a low hiss leaves his mouth.


    I have to do this. I can¡¯t wait another day without food.


    My tongue moves under his shaft, lubricating him for my lips as I begin a slow rhythm, my lips tightly sealed around him. Slowly I move my head down, forcing myself to let his cock bulge in my throat, even though my stomach retches. I pull back as another sharp hiss leaves Tommy¡¯s mouth.


    ¡°Fuck.¡±


    The soft moans and uttered curses give me an unexpected leap of pleasure. His fingers digging in my hair heat my chest, and I look up as my mouth ys with the head of his cock to gaze into his eyes. They¡¯re narrowed and his teeth are bared. The heat from his eyes gives me a thrill I¡¯ve never experienced before. Never have I had so much control over a man. Never have I felt so powerful.


    I open my mouth wider, gagging myself on his hard length, encouraged by his voice.


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s it. Oh fuck.¡±


    His breathing deepens and bes faster, and his mouth hangs open. My pussy clenches when he balls his hands in my hair and thrusts into my mouth hard.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    The wet, sloppy sounds of his cock sliding in and out of my mouth make me feel even more powerful. I¡¯m getting into this role-the slutty girl who does anything to get what she wants. He buries himself to the hilt as my throat bulges, his balls flush against my lips. I grip his thighs and let him thrust deeply, and then he holds me there.


    ¡°Fuck!¡±


    His balls tighten and seize up as his cock jumps in my mouth, and a torrent of warm, salty liquid fills the back of my tongue. He slides out and pumps back in, moaning as his thighs twitch. I¡¯m filled with his cum, and I want to spit it out to breathe, but Tommy won¡¯t let me pull out, so I swallow it, feeling disgusted with myself. He softens inside me as everyst drop is milked from my mouth, and then he pulls out, smiling at me with rapturous delight.


    ¡°Jesus fucking Christ, Mnie.¡±


    My chest heats when he looks at me like that. He takes my face in his hands, breathing hard, and wipes the corner of my mouth. Then he sticks his thumb between my lips and I suck the veryst drop from him. He grabs my arms painfully and wrenches me upright so that I¡¯m straddling hisp. His frantic mouth crushes against mine, bruising mine as he grabs my tits and squeezes hard enough to leave marks. I gasp when his tongue sweeps over my lips, and then he pulls away, shaking.


    ¡°That was one hell of a blowjob.¡± He kisses me again and makes another frustrated growl as he looks me up and down. ¡°I knew you were worth it.¡±


    Deep shame fills my stomach, mingling with the nausea from the fact that I just swallowed some guy¡¯s cum. How could I let him do this to me?


    He lets me slide off hisp and sit down on the chair as I pull the t-shirt back over my body. I hang my head down as he slides the te in front of me, but the smell of it makes me sick now. I feel awful.


    Tommy turned me into his whore, and the worst part of it was that I liked it. I liked having him in my mouth, and I even liked swallowing his cum. Even though the idea of it repulsed me, I liked seeing the pleasure transforming his face as he got off.


    I push the te away. The thought of eating anything he gives me is repugnant.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    What¡¯s wrong? I want tough at the ridiculousness of that question. What¡¯s wrong is that you¡¯re trying to break me. And you¡¯re winning.


    His hand brushes over my shoulder, filling me with a sick warmth that I don¡¯t want to feel.


    ¡°Get off me!¡±


    ¡°Mnie, you need to eat.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t eat anything you give me.¡±


    ¡°Then you¡¯ll die,¡± he says in a cold voice.


    Something snaps. Thest brittle piece of sanity I¡¯m clinging to cleaves into two, and I seize the te of food and hurl it across the kitchen, watching with satisfaction as the te explodes into shards and the foods spills all over the floor. I stand up as Tommy makes a noise of outrage.


    ¡°What the fuck?¡±


    ¡°WHY DON¡¯T YOU JUST KILL ME?¡±


    His eyes widen as he watches me, holding out a cating arm. ¡°I¡¯m not going to do that.¡±


    My hystericalughs bounce over the kitchen tiles, echoing harshly in my ears. ¡°Yes, you will. Just get it over with!¡±


    ¡°Mnie, listen to me. I¡¯m not going to hurt you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m done. I don¡¯t want to do this anymore. I won¡¯t!¡±


    ¡°Mel-¡±


    I dive for a broken shard of the ceramic te as Tommy lunges for me and I grasp it in my fist like a knife. He tackles me to the hard floor and forces the hand with the sharp piece of ceramic against the floor. Harsh fingers pinch a spot below my wrist. My hand explodes with intense pain and I immediately release my weapon, my eyes filling with tears.


    ¡°You fucking bastard. I can¡¯t stand you.¡±


    His hands curl around my shoulders and he pulls me upright, into his chest. A shaky breath blows over my ear.


    ¡°Jesus Christ, Mnie.¡±


    The emotion in his voice stuns me. He actually sounds remorseful. Gentle hands smooth the back of my head, reminding me suddenly of my parents. My throat closes up and my eyes burn as I think of them. Will I ever see them again?


    The way he holds me-I almost feel cherished, but then he pulls away and all that wonderful, sad warmth disappears. Reality sets in. He¡¯s my captor. He¡¯s trying to break me.


    ¡°Sit down.¡±


    He pushes me into a chair and returns to the stove, grabbing more pasta from the pot as the hunger in my stomach rises to my throat. If he brings over more food, I won¡¯t be able to stop myself. The te sits in front of me, the basil from the pesto sauce spiraling from the steam in the air. It smells wonderful.


    Tommy sits next to me, wearing an uncharacteristically somber expression. ¡°It¡¯s okay.¡±


    I seize the fork and shovel spaghetti in my mouth, my taste buds screaming from the sudden sh of vor. Jesus, it¡¯s incredible. It tastes like Heaven, but I feel as if I¡¯m condemning myself to Hell with every bite. When I¡¯m done, Tommy takes my hand and brings me into the living room. I¡¯ve never been here before. It¡¯s a small, cheap-looking room, filled with the crappiest furniture that they could probably find at a moment¡¯s notice. There¡¯s a cracking sound and I turn my head toward the firece, which glows with warmth. Freezing, I sit down in front of the fire, relishing the heat as Tommy sits on the other side of the firece. The orange glow pulses on his face.


    It feels strange, sitting here next to him. Something is different between us. I felt as though I lost the battle, but looking at his face-I realize that I might have actually won instead.

 4-18

    TOMMY


    That¡¯s what I fucking get for being too ambitious. Locking her up in the basement worked. It worked almost too well. She was seeing things in the dark. I heard her screams from the vent upstairs. The job was to make her devoted to me, not to scramble her brains.


    It¡¯s a learning process for me. Hell, I¡¯ve never attempted anything like this before, but I think we¡¯ve had a breakthrough. She sumbed to her hunger pangs and humiliated herself to ease the pain. Throughout the years, I¡¯ve learned that there¡¯s a price to doing that. A bit of your pride chips away. I¡¯ve made it this far because I knew when to choose my battles. The way she looks right now reminds me when a made guy insulted me. Even though I wanted to beat him until his legs stopped working, I didn¡¯ty a finger on him.


    She stares into the fire with a faraway look as if she¡¯s already gone. Her dark curls swing over her face, and I have a sudden desire to tuck them behind her ears. I want to see the orange light flicker over her lips and cheek. I want to gaze at the sadness misting her eyes, to study the mysteries of all these human emotions that I seldom feel myself. Maybe I just want to bask in the glow of her beauty and marvel at it for a moment. It¡¯s so rare that I get to really study it.


    There¡¯s a painful twinge in my chest as I watch her hug her knees. She¡¯s like a bird, and I¡¯ve clipped her wings. So sad. So beautiful.


    I don¡¯t like how I feel when I¡¯m around her. That sharp pain in my chest radiates outward like an infection. My lips and eyes burn from the proximity of the fire. I should have made that bitch eat every scrap of food on the floor like a dog. She would have hated it, but it would have broken her down even more. Instead, I took pity on her. Instead, Iforted her.


    What the hell is wrong with me?


    Watching her eyes fill with tears was like a blow to my stomach. She looked so miserable, and I suddenly felt like the toxic, evil bastard that I am. For the first time I don¡¯t want a body to work on with my knife. I¡¯m not interested in hearing her screams. They don¡¯tfort me. They ring horribly in my ears.


    I never thought this would be a problem for me. Ever. She¡¯s a rat. We kill rats all the time.


    She sits in front of the firece, hugging her knees.


    When the timees, it¡¯ll be quick. I won¡¯t draw it out.


    I withdraw into myself, like I used to when I first started working for Jack. Cold wraps around my chest, freezing the small, hopeful fire inside. Icy fingers clutch my shoulders and move up my neck, to my head. Then I feel nothing, just a low, burning lust for her. I¡¯ll need to feel nothing for what I¡¯m going to do with her.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with you?¡±


    She says it in a deadened voice, her eyes still trained on the fire.


    I wonder if she noticed the shift in temperature. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you mean.¡±


    ¡°I mean how did someone grow up to be so fucked up?¡±


    I¡¯ve asked that myself plenty of times, and never came up with an answer. My parents weren¡¯t awful, but they treated me like a ghost. Never disciplined me. Never said a word of encouragement, or praise. Never seemed to give a shit where I was or what I did. No, it was always very monotonous at my house. I remember how Jack gave me a hug when he first met me, and how foreign it felt. I was never touched like that by anyone before.


    ¡°I¡¯m always angry. What¡¯s wrong with taking it out on people who are going to die anyway?¡±


    She squeezes her eyes shut and a sudden, desperate sound from her lungs smashes through the walls I¡¯ve built up around myself. My stomach caves in as another high-pitched sound shakes from her chest.


    Jesus Christ.


    Unable to stop myself, I slide next to her. My thigh presses against hers as I wrap an arm around her warm back. I nuzzle her neck and squeeze her reassuringly.


    ¡°I don¡¯t mean you.¡±


    ¡°Bullshit.¡±


    ¡°I like you. Haven¡¯t you realized that by now?¡±


    The sweet things I whispered in her ears all those times at the club-they weren¡¯t all lies. She stood up to Vince and told him to fuck off all the time. Who wouldn¡¯t get a kick out of that? She never became one of those weak, sniveling people who¡¯d shower us with emptypliments to get on our good side. No, she said whatever the fuck she wanted. I liked her for that.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. You¡¯re going to kill me,¡± she gasps, tears burning down her cheeks. ¡°There¡¯s nothing I can do to stop it.¡±


    I pull her into my chest and nt a kiss on her head. There¡¯s no warm glow in my chest from holding her. There¡¯s nothing.


    ¡°Mnie, I swear to God that¡¯s not going to happen. On my mother¡¯s life.¡±


    Her red eyes stare at me, slightly widened. Hope.


    My stomach sinks.


    I¡¯m such a monster.


    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Really. All you have to do is listen to what I say, and you¡¯ll get back to your old life before you know it.¡±


    Such a lying piece of shit.


    A small smile flickers on her face as tears continue to leak from her eyes.N?velDrama.Org (C) content.


    ¡°I almost believe that.¡±


    Her eyes beg me to reconsider, but I won¡¯t. I¡¯ve wanted to be made since I was a kid. She has no chance-no chance at all. Her eyes drop and she pulls away from my embrace, talking to me with a seething tone.


    ¡°Why do you do it? What do you get out of this?¡±


    I look at her furious gaze for a moment, regarding her for a moment as the question stews in my head.


    ¡°It makes me feel better,¡± I finally say, disliking the look of disgust on her face. ¡°The more they scream, the less angry I feel.¡±


    She gives me that sickened look that I¡¯ve seen so many times on the other guys¡¯ faces. ¡°How long have you been doing this?¡±


    ¡°Since I was about sixteen.¡±


    Mnie¡¯s small mouth opens in shock. ¡°That¡¯s sick. That¡¯s really, really sick.¡±


    I remember how the warm blood gushed around my hands when I sunk Jack¡¯s de into that man¡¯s stomach. Before that, I¡¯d never killed a person. I¡¯d never used a knife on anyone before.


    ¡°Yeah, maybe.¡±


    ¡°Jack ruined you. You were just a kid and he turned you into a monster.¡±


    I nce at her with a small frown. She¡¯spletely wrong about him. ¡°He gave me purpose. He¡¯s like a father to me.¡±


    ¡°If he¡¯s a model father to you then I feel sorry for you. He used you. He¡¯s still using you.¡±


    Images of Jack patting me on the head when I was younger sh through my head. I remember the swell of warmth in my chest, the gratitude I felt that finally someone recognized me. Jack told me that he loved me like a son. That meant a lot to me. Then I remember the crushing agony when the man who told me I was like a son told me that I could never be a made member.


    A hot, forbidding feeling rustles in my chest and I take her arm in a bruising grip.


    ¡°Nobody uses me, sweetheart. Not you, not Vince, and definitely not Jack. I chose to do this for a living.¡±


    That seems to take her surprise for a moment, but she swallows it down and keeps looking at me with that softened look that I hate to see.


    ¡°I know you¡¯re not all bad.¡±


    ¡°I am, though.¡±


    She flinches from the harshness in my voice and sucks in her breath. I take her shoulders in my hands and feel how warm they are, how she tries to squirm out of my grip.


    ¡°No you¡¯re not. You helped me with that guy-¡±


    ¡°I was protecting Jack¡¯s interests.¡± I swallow hard as the desperate fervor in her eyes bes more pronounced.


    I feel sorry for her.


    ¡°You were always nice to me-¡±


    ¡°Because I wanted to getid.¡±


    Her face crumbles and I take her shaking head in my hands. My heart hammers against my chest when she draws another desperate breath.


    I don¡¯t know why I¡¯m gentle with her.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, hon, but you¡¯re looking for something inside me that just doesn¡¯t exist.¡±


    ¡°If you really don¡¯t care then why are you holding me like this?¡±


    Because I need you to drop your testimony.


    Another disturbed part of me can¡¯t help but point out that she¡¯s right. There¡¯s a nasty feeling somewhere inside me, a nagging, painful ache. Still, the need to prove her wrong irresistibly ws its way to the surface.


    ¡°Jack promised me something I¡¯ve wanted for a very long time.¡±


    Her eyes flicker. ¡°So you¡¯re just going to let me die in exchange for this thing, whatever it is?¡±


    A smile spreads on my face. ¡°I¡¯m getting really tired of repeating myself. How many times do I have to say it? As long as you do as I say, you¡¯ll be safe.¡±


    There it is, again. Her mouth parts as she looks straight into my eyes, as if trying to catch me in a lie. She dares to hope.


    It¡¯s all for nothing.


    ¡°You promise?¡±


    Why do people take that word seriously?


    ¡°Yeah, sure.¡±


    Mnie smiles back at me and then leans on her arm. It¡¯s a strange position, but I think nothing of it. Suddenly there¡¯s a metallic, nging sound and suddenly a thin, ck rod swings in my vision.


    Jesus.


    I catch it in my fist as she swings it at my face and then I twist it out of her grasp as she screams.


    ¡°Fuck you! I know you¡¯re full of shit!¡±


    My heart pounds as I throw the fire poker from us, looking at it with amusement. ¡°You¡¯re fucking crazy, you know that?¡±


    She backs away from me, her eyes widened. ¡°I¡¯m not going to just sit here while you do this to me!¡±


    Just when I was starting to think that she was breaking.


    ¡°Is that what all this introspective bullshit was about?¡± I raise my voice, mocking hers. ¡°Jack¡¯s using you. You were only sixteen. You¡¯re a good person deep down inside. Were you trying to get me to see the light?¡± Iugh into her face as she looks away from me, confirming my suspicions.


    Then I take her skinny little neck and squeeze her throat. ¡°Do you know how long it¡¯s been since I¡¯ve had an outlet for my rage? I¡¯ve held back from hurting you so far, but if you keep fucking pushing me-¡±


    ¡°Go ahead. Coward.¡±


    ¡°I dwell in darkness, sweetheart. If I wanted to kill you, I¡¯d do it.¡±


    ¡°Just get it over with, you coward.¡±


    She just can¡¯t fucking shut up.


    I pin her to the hardwood floor, her dark eyes zing at me in defiance as I fight against the urge to p her face. I vent my feelings by smashing my fist against the wood next to her head, and she flinches.


    Then an idea strikes me. It¡¯s so amazing, so fucking perfect that I forget all of my anger. A smile widens my face.


    ¡°Get up. It¡¯s time for your punishment.¡±


    The color drains from her face. ¡°You¡¯re going to use those knives, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    I jerk my head to the side, wincing at the very thought. On the contrary, I¡¯m going to make her beg for me. She¡¯s going to want release, but I won¡¯t give it to her until she¡¯s said what I want. I pull her resisting body upright, my cock already hardening in my pants. My arms wrap around her waist and I let her feel it digging into her ass, which is just barely covered by the white t-shirt.


    She inhales a sharp gasp when I hold her against me.


    ¡°I¡¯ve learned a lot about you over thest couple days, sweetie. I know what you like, and what you don¡¯t like.¡± I bury my hand in her thick head of hair, and yank her neck to the side so I can nt a kiss on her throbbing vein. ¡°I know deep down you like kissing me. Some dark corner of your mind you never knew existed wants this. You¡¯d probably love fucking me, too. I know how that makes you feel. You¡¯re sickened with yourself for liking it-for liking me.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re wrong on every level,¡± she says in a high voice.


    ¡°I¡¯m right. I know I¡¯m right because I can see how hard your nipples are right now. I bet if I touched your pussy, I¡¯d find it nice and wet.¡±


    Then just to prove my point, I fasten my mouth on her neck and my free hand wanders around her tits, which stick out of her chest. I squeeze them and my cock twitches. She sighs a shuddering breath and squirms when my hand dips lower. Under the t-shirt, I find her heat hidden between her thighs. I p them ruthlessly and she opens her legs, and then my fingers run along her slick pussy. She cringes at the sound of my chuckle.


    ¡°Your body knows who you belong to. It wants to serve me.¡±


    Her chest heaves against my arm as I y with her lips, and it¡¯s turning me on, too. My breaths get quicker and my heart pounds against her back. I want her really fucking badly, I always have.


    Tonight, I¡¯m going to make her beg.

 4-19

    MELANIE


    Every time I think I¡¯ve got him figured out, he throws me another curveball that fucks with my head because he¡¯s right. Breathe.


    Just breathe.


    But how can I when every lungful of air feels hot and short? It¡¯s something that he does to me, something that¡¯s burrowed deep inside my flesh, running through my veins like a poison. I¡¯m trying to gather my thoughts, but his voice cuts right through them, ringing in my head.


    ¡°Your body knows who it belongs to. It wants to serve me.¡±


    Clear your head.


    I¡¯m trying to get to know him, to find out what makes him tick, but he has me figured out like a science. His hand sweeps around my neck and sets off a million nerve endings. The way he touches me is soft but sure, like a manpletely in his element-every movement is a calcted effort designed to trigger a certain reaction from me. He works me like a master wielding his puppet.


    I do want him. Some sick part of me fantasizes about his lips, his body, and even the cock digging into my back. Right now, as he ys with me, I¡¯m thinking about what he¡¯d feel like inside me. My legs tighten and my face heats up. Desperately, I¡¯m trying to cool down.


    This is not just desire. This is an opportunity to make him like you.


    But haven¡¯t I given up on that already? Haven¡¯t I just fucked that up by trying to attack him?


    Stay in control. Stay in control. You were doing so well.


    Well, up until I grabbed that fire poker.This is property ? of N?velDrama.Org.


    I don¡¯t know what the fuck I was thinking. I was just so mad. My teeth were grinding as he sat next to me, his lips vomiting lies when he knows what¡¯s really going to happen. Both of know the truth. We both know that my life has an expiration date, give or take a few weeks.


    His hand curls around my neck, forcing my face up as he pins my back to his chest. I stare at the popcorn ceiling, shivering in his arms. The fingers at my throat feel like des scraping over my skin. His breath is like an icy gust of wind over my cheeks. Every inch of me is terrified.


    ¡°Since you tried to hurt me, I¡¯m going to punish you with what I know you hate.¡± The gravelly voice sends a hot shiver down my spine.


    I whimper, thinking of the dungeon, but somehow I don¡¯t think it¡¯s that.


    He lifts the hand ying with my pussy and he brings his shining fingers to my face, smearing my juices over my cheek.


    ¡°You hate being humiliated.¡±


    The cheek smeared with my arousal burns as he pushes me forward andughs at my furious expression.


    He¡¯s also right about that.


    We walk out of the den into the kitchen where the floor is still scattered with food. My legs tremble as we walk up the stairs together, Tommy¡¯s chest bumping into me as he gently holds my shoulder. The shaking in my legs makes it hard for me to walk, and then he stops me in front of the doorway of his bedroom. I turn around, hating how shrill my voice sounds.


    ¡°Tommy, you don¡¯t have to do this.¡±


    A wide, dimpled smile stretches over his handsome face as he takes my throat, gently pushing me backward into the room.


    ¡°You¡¯ve no idea how long I¡¯ve waited to do this to you.¡±


    A carnal look possesses his face as he reaches down to my waist and pulls the t-shirt from my head.


    ¡°So fucking long.¡±


    The longing in his voice strikes another chord inside me. I feel the twang in my chest and the vibrations dizzy me. I can¡¯t breathe until he touches me again. The only thing between us is Tommy¡¯s t-shirt and jeans. The white fabric jumps slightly with his heartbeat. I ce a palm against his stomach-a shove that bes a caress.


    I just can¡¯t fucking hurt him, even though I hate him. I can¡¯t do it when his eyes look at me like that-like I¡¯m beautiful.


    My heart hammers faster when I feel his muscles rippling under the thin cotton. There¡¯s so much vitality in those muscles. I can feel them heating under my touch. I¡¯m stunned by the heat in my face as Tommy suddenly pushes my shoulder, throwing off my bnce. My knees hit the back of the bed and I sit down.


    His hand, rough andforting, smoothes my cheek as he bends down, his lips nearly kissing me.


    ¡°Get on the bed. I want you to lie down for me.¡±


    I gulp down air, my mouth making sounds, but nothing manages to squeak out. The pounding in my head is deafening as he pulls away, making me miss the warmth from his hands. I lean back on theforter, arms wrapped around myself as my back sinks into thefortable mattress. It¡¯s been so long since I¡¯ve been on a real bed that I want nothing more than to curl up under the covers and sleep, but Tommy won¡¯t let me.


    ¡°You¡¯re not going to be able to close your eyes for much longer,¡± he says with a deep chuckle.


    I have no fucking idea what he has nned. The familiar sound of metal clinking together grabs my attention and I open my eyes as cold metal links around my ankle. He closes the handcuff and attaches it to a rope affixed to the corner of the bed. He does the same with the other ankle, spreading my legs wide. My face heats up.


    ¡°What¡¯s the matter, hon? You¡¯re embarrassed that I can see your pussy?¡±


    I look away from his infuriating smile.


    ¡°I asked you a question,¡± he says in a firmer tone.


    ¡°Fine. Yes.¡±


    ¡°Why shouldn¡¯t I be able to see something that¡¯s mine?¡±


    A ze travels up my chest. ¡°I¡¯m not yours.¡±


    He smiles, shaking his head. ¡°We¡¯re going to have to fix that tonight. I¡¯m going to hear you beg. I¡¯m going to hear you say that your pussy belongs to me.¡±


    My chokedughter rebounds in the room. Then he seizes my arm, pinning it behind my head. He handcuffs me to the headboard, and then does the same to the other hand. A growing sense of panic fills my head when he sits down next to me, grinning like a devil.


    He ces his palm on my stomach and my eyes roll up in my head. Damn it, but it feels good. I move my arms, wincing when the handcuffs cut into my wrists. The palm on my stomach slowly moves upward, the heel of it slightly dragging on my skin, and then he reaches up. His hand swallows one of my tits, and I let out a shaking breath.


    Tommy shifts closer so that he sits next to my head, and then he leans over, slightly massaging my breast. It feels incredible and yet viting at the same time. I never asked for this-never wanted him the way he wanted me to, and yet here I am, enjoying it. His mouth is an inch from mine and then his weight presses on me slightly. His smiling lips hungrily devour mine, sucking, biting, and hardly leaving me with air. I find that I don¡¯t really need it, because he¡¯s giving me something that I need much more. It¡¯s like the time we kissed on the couch, which seems like a lifetime ago. I knew nothing about him, only that he was dangerous. For a moment he made me forget about all the shit in my life.


    He makes me forget now.


    I kiss him back as his fingers y with my tits, giving in to that deep hunger for him that confounds me. He strokes the side of my face, and it¡¯s so tender. Then he pulls away, leaving me gasping for more.


    ¡°I want to hear you beg for me.¡±


    ¡°I hate you.¡± But my voice lies to the feeling swelling my heart.


    His eyes lift in excitement and hisughter spreads over my cheeks like fire. I do hate him. I love his hands on me, but I hate him.


    The mattress bounces as he stands up from it, reaching under the bed for a box, where he pulls out a small metallic egg with some sort of wire attached to it.


    ¡°Oh, I think you¡¯ll be singing a different tune soon enough.¡±


    He moves down the bed with it, and I¡¯ve no idea what it is. Is he going to electrocute me? Tommy climbs over the bed, straddling my legs as he lowers the device to my pussy, which contracts at the cool touch. The sound of violent buzzing immediately fills the air, and suddenly I¡¯m in the throes of ecstasy. The metal egg vibrates against my clit, sending jolts of electricity everywhere.


    ¡°Oh my God!¡±


    Heughs, giving me a greedy look as my back arches against the pleasure rolling through me. He slides the metal egg calmly, up and down. I feel it singeing every nerve. Everything is on fire and I moan loudly as he leans forward to grab my breast again. He pinches the nipple ruthlessly.


    ¡°Do you want me to stop?¡±


    ¡°I-I don¡¯t want-¡±


    What don¡¯t I want? The muscles inside me call for something thick to fill their depths, for Tommy¡¯s legs to wrap around me. For his body to thrust inside me-No!


    I will not fucking beg him!


    He pushes the egg inside me, his fingers probing through my wetness. I clench hard, wanting it deeper. More. A second loud buzzing fills the room and I shake my head violently.


    ¡°No, please!¡±


    He grins and touches the second egg over my clit.


    It¡¯s like an explosion. Pleasure and stimtion beyond anything I¡¯ve ever experienced. My back arches and I scream out loud. Fuck, it feels so good and he feels so good. He attaches it there to my clit with a small piece of tape and straddles my waist. All I can think about is his legs pressed against my sides. He sits up, watching me struggle as he removes his t-shirt. He¡¯s not overly muscled, but there¡¯s not an inch of fat on him. I want to run my hands over his broad chest to feel the hardness of his muscles.


    My back arches again as another jolt seizes my pussy, riding me higher. He leans forward as I jerk against my handcuffs, his hands caressing my tits and pinching my nipples as wave after wave of pleasure rocks inside me. His weight pins me down, preventing me from throwing off the devices.


    ¡°Tommy! I can¡¯t-no!¡±


    Christ, this isn¡¯t fair. How am I supposed to fight this?


    His breath billows over my face as heughs at my distress.


    Without thinking, I lean forward, catching his lips in mine. His weight bears down on me as his tongue opens my mouth wider, but it¡¯s too much. It¡¯s just making it worse.


    ¡°Tommy!¡±


    ¡°Tommy!¡± he mimics my tone,ughing. ¡°Tell me what you want.¡±


    Then I realize as I stare into his hot gaze-this is what he wants. He wants me to beg. Am I going to let that fucker win, just because he¡¯s teasing me?


    No.


    I set my jaw firmly, saying nothing. His eyes glitter as he reaches back, finding the egg strapped to my clit. He applies a bit of pressure. More electrical jolts seize my pussy, making me clench hard over the egg vibrating inside me. Oh fuck. I¡¯m going to lose this battle. I¡¯m going to fuckinge.


    Then he rips off the egg over my clit, and the fire simmers down. Before, it was seconds from explosion. Now it¡¯s just zing hot. He falls back from me, smiling as he reaches inside me and grabs the second egg. Almost immediately he puts it over my clit. Two fingers slide between my folds, pushing up hard against my raw flesh.


    Oh my God.


    How does he do this to me? Within seconds I¡¯ve gone mad. I want something longer, harder, thicker. I just want him to fuck me, already. Just fuck me! I scream with my eyes. Do it!


    My chest rises and falls hotly, and every time Tommy feels that I¡¯m close to an orgasm, he stops. A shaking sob leaves my chest when he does it again.


    ¡°Please. Just do it.¡±


    ¡°Just do what?¡±


    ¡°You know what.¡±


    ¡°I can watch you squirm all goddamn day.¡±


    Another pleasurable jolt seizes my stomach, and I try to throw him off.


    ¡°Argh!¡±


    He clicks his tongue. ¡°It could be much worse, wouldn¡¯t you say?¡±


    Not much worse.


    Another finger slides inside me, and together they curl upward, fucking my pussy as the maddening egg vibrates against my clit, drenching his hand in my arousal.


    ¡°I want you!¡±


    The scream tears from my throat before I can take it back, and his eyes ze at me, his fingers stopping inside me.


    ¡°What did you say?¡±


    He knows damn well what I said.


    ¡°Just fuck me already.¡±


    His low, tutting voice fills my ears. ¡°You¡¯re not the one giving out orders, ve.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not your-ah!¡±


    The fingers twist inside me, pressing up against the membrane of flesh between the egg and his fingers. I just can¡¯t anymore.


    ¡°Please.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve been through this, sweetheart. Beg me.¡±


    ¡°I am begging!¡±


    ¡°Not hard enough.¡± He leans over, his fingers still buried deep inside me. Hot lips descend over mine, pulling me closer to the edge.


    ¡°Please, Tommy. I want you to fuck me.¡±


    His face pulls away, no longer looking amused. Dark eyes burn away at my skin. ¡°Say it like you fucking mean it.¡±


    ¡°Fuck me!¡± I moan to the ceiling, not caring anymore about how ridiculous I must look or how I¡¯m ying right into his hands. All I care about is having every inch of him buried deep, thrusting. His hands burn on my skin. I want him.


    His mouth takes my nipple between his lips, and I arch my back, thrusting my tits in his face. He sucks and sucks, mewling, pathetic sounds leaving my lips. A vicious red mark blossoms under his lips on my breast, and then he causes another searing welt, the pain and pleasure mingling together.


    ¡°Tommy!¡±


    A groan escapes from his mouth as he tilts his head toward my face. ¡°You have no idea how fucking hard that makes me.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°When you say my name like that.¡±


    I can hardly pay attention to what he¡¯s saying. Tears leak from the corners of my eyes as the egg tortures me, bringing me to the brink only for his fingers to stop moving inside me. He slips out of me and brings his hand to my face.


    ¡°Suck every drop from my fingers.¡±


    I don¡¯t want to. It¡¯s humiliating and gross, but to get him to fuck me I¡¯ll do anything. Anything. My mouth closes over his fingers, my lips sucking my arousal from his skin. I can taste myself. It¡¯s so humiliating-it makes my cheeks burn like a furnace, and when it¡¯s over he smiles at me.


    ¡°Good girl.¡±


    I¡¯m still in agony. I wrench my hands against the cuffs, wishing I could ce them between my legs. A few thrusts and I could get off. He slides off the bed and I cry out, thinking that he¡¯s going to leave me here. He gets a key instead and unlocks the handcuffs around my feet. My heart jumps as he slowly slides his jeans off his narrow hips, down his muscr thighs. My mouth waters when the ck briefs quickly follow the jeans, and then he climbs on the bed, my thighs wrapping around his naked waist. His cock aims at my entrance, but he doesn¡¯t shift forward. He just stares at me with that heavy, lustden look. His palm sweeps over my inner thigh, and my pussy clenches just from the unexpected warmth.


    What the hell is he waiting for?


    ¡°Earlier, you said that you didn¡¯t belong to me.¡±


    He leans forward, his cock ttened against my pussy as my legs push against my chest, vibrator still going madly. ¡°I need you to ept the fact that your body belongs to me, that if I¡¯m not obeyed without question, you¡¯ll be punished downstairs with nothing to see, hear, or feel.¡±


    I groan as his cock rubs against my clit, nudging the egg as his head nuzzles my ear.


    ¡°When I tell you to spread your legs, you do it. When I want you to suck my cock before feeding you, you¡¯ll drop to your knees. And if I want to fuck you-¡± I groan again as he nudges me, ¡°you¡¯ll take off your clothes and beg for my cock. You¡¯re mine, understand?¡±


    He suddenly digs his fingers around my neck and I nod.


    ¡°Yes, I understand!¡±


    He smiles. ¡°Now tell me that you¡¯re mine. Beg me.¡±


    A surge of fire joins the lust burning between my legs. I fucking hate him for what he¡¯s done to me, but I want him so badly. ¡°I¡¯m yours. My body belongs to you, Tommy.¡±


    The mention of his name makes his eyes roll in his head. ¡°Fuck.¡±


    The control vanishes from his eyes and he moves back. The bulge of his cock sits at the base of my pussy and at once he thrusts hard, the whole length of him filling me with ecstasy. The egg still vibrates on my clit, and thebined pressure from his cock makes me lift my head and scream. He sinks into me and tries to swallow my screams with his mouth, but I break away from him and he kisses my neck. Oh my God.


    His hips pound into mine, his cock throbbing deep inside me. His hands are all over and my heart hammers so hard I feel my chest vibrating.


    ¡°Jesus, Tommy!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to fuck you so good and hard you¡¯ll never want anyone else.¡±


    The promise hisses in my ear and I tighten my legs around him, my eyes screwed shut. The egg brings me closer and closer, and every amazing thrust nudges me to the edge, and then I scream into his ear, half-sobbing with relief when my pussy clenches hard around him. A wave of respite momentarily spills over my limbs, but the egg keeps vibrating over my clit. Tommy¡¯s cock pulses inside me, hard enough to knock the breath from my lungs. Then it climbs up again, and again. He stops momentarily and pulls out of me.


    ¡°No, please don¡¯t!¡±


    He hears my plea and smiles, his body slick with sweat. ¡°You are too much.¡± Then he moves forward, his legs straddling my chest. His cock shines with my juice, and he moves it over my lips so that it smears. I open my mouth and he slides inside with a groan.


    ¡°That¡¯s it. Suck everything off.¡±


    With my hands restrained, I can¡¯t hold him. I can¡¯t touch him. It drives me mad, but my head moves up and down his cock, sucking hard until I see his eyes close. His fingers curl into my hair when he hits the back of my throat. The egg sends convulsions up my legs, and I look into his eyes, pleading. He pops out of my mouth.


    ¡°Please, Tommy. I want you inside me.¡±

 4-20

    I can see him fighting with a smooth remark, but instead he growls in frustration and crushes his lips against mine. Then he pulls back.Exclusive ? material by N?(/v)elDrama.Org.


    ¡°Turn that beautiful body around.¡±


    He gets off me and I cross the handcuffs so that I¡¯m on my knees. He moves behind me, his knees between mine. A broad hand slides over my back, tingling my skin as he gathers a fistful of hair and pulls me back. The pebbled crown pushes between my lips and enters me slickly. I nearly cry with happiness when he ruts me hard, using the other hand to massage the egg still strapped to my clit. Then he rips it off because I hardly need it anymore. I¡¯m his. I belong to him. I¡¯vepletely sumbed.


    White g. I surrender.


    He alternates between grabbing my shoulder and groping my tits, which swing with the jerking of his hips. His moaning and animalistic growls fill my ears, ramping up the pleasure pounding through me. I clutch the bars of his headboard, barely able to avoid being thrown into them. His cock strikes me deeply, filling mepletely. I¡¯ve never been fucked so hard in my life. My throat rips with a scream. Every thrust is painful as hell, but there¡¯s so much pleasure riding along my clit that I confuse the two. They¡¯re the same.


    Finally he hammers me so hard that I¡¯m thrown forward, copsing on the sheets. My face falls into the pillows as Tommy¡¯s weight crushes me. His mouth bites my neck as he pounds me deep. The flesh-smacking sounds, Tommy¡¯s hand crawling under my stomach to grab my breast, and his lips drive me to the edge. I scream his name as convulsions rip through my body and his voice lifts in a crescendo, a long, drawn-out yell. His cock twitches inside me and warmth fills my pussy. Heaving breaths fill my ears as his hips thrust and hold me there until his legs shake. Wet kisses nt all over my back as my stomach still shakes with my orgasm. Tommy breathes against my back for several moments, swearing under his breath.


    I feel absolutely broken. Undone. Completely shattered in a million pieces.


    I lost.


    He pulls out of me and reaches for the handcuffs, springing me free. He tosses them aside and falls back into the pillows, his eyes closed. His arm snakes under my shoulders and he pulls me into his chest, and my arm sys across him. My head nestles in the crook of his shoulder. It feels nice.


    I still hate you.


    Buried beneath the pleasant glow is a well of self-disgust, steadily rising up the walls like vomit. He took advantage of me. How could I let him do that? There was only one thing I hadn¡¯t given to him, and now that¡¯s gone. The few scraps of my dignity I¡¯d managed to hold on to were ripped to shreds. He took them from me and cruelly tore them apart in front of my face. I can just feel him gloating from the way he strokes my body. I can imagine the smile on my face, and acid burns in my throat.


    ¡°Tommy¡­¡±


    He turns his head, listening.


    ¡°You¡¯re a fucking bastard.¡±


    I hear the smile in his voice. ¡°I did nothing to you that you didn¡¯t want.¡±


    It¡¯s not just what he did to me. I mean this. Now. Being held by him and liking it. Feeling something fluttering in my chest when he says my name.


    ¡°You were everything I hoped for and more.¡±


    What the fuck does that mean?


    I¡¯m just so tired of fighting him. His chest rises and falls like the tide and the sound of his breathing lulls me into a peaceful drowsiness. His hand draws circles on my back.


    * * *


    A small beeping. It drags me out of dreams. The first sensation I notice is how sore my body is. It¡¯s a pleasant sort of soreness, like when you¡¯ve worked out the day before.


    Or been fucked until your body is numb.


    Then I feel the thick nkets over me, and the body stirring next to me. There¡¯s light behind my eyelids. Lots of it. It must be morning.


    A low voice hisses.


    ¡°What? Everything¡¯s going fine, I told you not to call me. No, Jack, that¡¯s not a good idea. I said, no. I think that I¡¯m the guy who¡¯s got this under control. If you show up, you could fuck up everything I¡¯ve-fine. Bye.¡±


    My insides freeze when he tosses the phone aside and turns to face me. My eyes are firmly shut.


    ¡°You heard?¡±


    I press my lips against each other, determined not to speak. To pretend to be asleep.


    ¡°Mnie, I know you¡¯re awake. Your breathing changed.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I heard.¡± My eyes fly open.


    His hair sprawls over the white pillow and his eyes look a bit red, as if he spent the night tossing restlessly. ¡°Everything¡¯s going to be fine.¡±


    I try to swallow the bile in my throat. Fine. Yes. Everything will be fine. I have to believe him at this point.


    ¡°Let¡¯s take a shower.¡±


    I nod and he slips out of the covers, as naked as I am. He gives me a bright smile and I follow him through the door, which leads to arge bathroom.


    I hesitate when he closes the door. I¡¯ve no idea how to handle him now. Hell, I don¡¯t have a handle on myself right now. Everything¡¯s confused. There¡¯s heat in my chest instead of that chill I usually feel when he looks at me.


    Something changed between us. It wasn¡¯t just the sex. He gave himselfpletely to mest night, and so did I. Now I don¡¯t know how to act around him anymore.


    Tommy twists the knobs of the shower and at once turns on me, his hands creeping around my head. ¡°So, how did you likest night?¡±


    I can¡¯t think when he digs his fingers in my scalp like that. ¡°I think you know.¡±


    ¡°Oh I do. I just want to hear you say it.¡±


    The cocky smile he wears confirms my suspicions.


    ¡°It was amazing. You¡¯re amazing.¡±


    He wraps his hands around my face and pulls me into a soft kiss. His lips are barely there but they make my heart pound, and they make me gasp for breath. I¡¯m pushed into the hot shower, and Tommy climbs in after me, shutting the ss door. I watch him as he lifts his neck over the showerhead, water spraying down his chest. He bends his head and the shower streams down, ttening his hair.


    I can¡¯t let this happen. I need to fight back the only way I know how.


    Make him want you.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    Tommy looks shocked as he tilts his head, still smiling as if he must¡¯ve misheard me. ¡°What?¡±


    He backs against the wall, hiding his confusion under a smirk as I wrap my arms around his neck and lean my body into his.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry I never gave you a chance.¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡±


    ¡°I was just scared.¡±


    He looks taken aback for a moment and then he squeezes my waist. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. I have you now.¡±


    My face screws up in pain and suddenly a dry sob shakes from my chest. ¡°Yes, it does. This-everything could have been avoided if I¡¯d just been nicer to you.¡±


    I kiss him before he can respond back, and my hands move down his neck and chest.


    Make him fall for you.


    The water sprays my back with heat, but it¡¯s nothingpared to the zing fire between our bodies. He deepens the kiss as my hands move down his hips and wrap around his cock, which is already at full mast.


    Our lips break away and I sink to my knees, facing his cock. He looks down at me with a puzzled expression. ¡°Mnie-¡± His words cut off into a low moan as I flick my tongue over the head.


    I wrap my lips around him, creating a tight seal as my tongue sticks out, making swirls on his underside. His eyes close and he bites his lip as if he¡¯s trying not to smile and then his hand balls in my hair. The pressure in his hand builds as he pushes the back of my head, forcing me to take more of him down my throat. I open wider, struggling to amodate his girth as the shower echoes with his groans. My lips suck hard over his head and then his hips push against my mouth, shoving his throbbing length down my throat. He takes my head with his hands and thrusts deeply, water pouring down my lips. I reach underneath him and take his balls in my hand, using my other hand to clench the base of his cock. He hisses between his teeth and another hard thrust jabs the back of my throat.


    Tommy¡¯s starting to lose it-his breaths be more frantic and I even feel my own body responding to how turned-on he is. I am controlling him. My body makes him weak, and I¡¯m going to use it to my advantage. He won¡¯t be able to keep his hands off me because of the way I make him feel, and then he¡¯ll never want to let me go.


    My throat makes wet, loud noises as he fucks my face, and then he utters a guttural sound and keeps my lips flush against his hips. Then he sighs, the back of my throat filling with cum, his thighs twitching as his cock releases its load into my mouth. He pulls out of my mouth as I swallow him, and then he tugs me upright.


    Tommy¡¯s face looks dazed. Happy. ¡°Apology epted, sweetheart.¡±

 4-21

    The television res with some sort of crime drama and I curl up on the couch, on the opposite end of Tommy. He lets me watch TV with him now.


    I keep sneaking nces at him, studying his profile, the stubble on his cheeks that¡¯s normally shaved away, his hair, which not quite covers his eye. He looks at me almost as if he senses my stare, and gives me a warm smile. It fills my stomach with the strangest uplifting feeling.


    Then I just can¡¯t stand it anymore.


    I stand up and feel his eyes train on me. He doesn¡¯t really let me roam freely. His eyes are always watching. Waiting. They follow me as I stand in front of him, blocking the TV.


    ¡°What?¡± he says finally.


    ¡°We¡¯ve been doing this for days, now.¡±


    He shrugs. ¡°And?¡±


    ¡°And I want to know what this is leading up to.¡±


    I just want it to be over. My budding feelings for Tommy are like a parasitic growth. The more I¡¯m around him, the more attached I am. There¡¯s no more need for punishment, because I do everything he says. Everything.


    It sickens me.


    We¡¯re at a stalemate. I¡¯ve done everything I can to build a rapport with him, but he hasn¡¯t changed much.


    He suddenly leans forward and grabs me, pulling me close. Then he pulls me over hisp and my throat closes as his hands curl around my arms. Heat flushes over my face and chest when he gives me that smile. It makes my heart pound just a little bit faster. I feel so small in his arms. I touch his neck and study the fine lines near his eyes that deepen when he smiles, like right now.


    ¡°Some guys are going toe overter,¡± he says while stroking my arm. ¡°Then you¡¯ll understand.¡±


    Some guys? ¡°You mean, Jack and Vincent?¡±This is property ? of N?velDrama.Org.


    My heart clenches painfully and I unconsciously grip Tommy¡¯s t-shirt in my fist. No, I don¡¯t want them here. They frighten me in a way that Tommy doesn¡¯t.


    ¡°Not Vince. He¡¯s being watched.¡±


    Bile rises in my throat. ¡°Please don¡¯t let theme here.¡± My fingers dig into his shoulder. ¡°I don¡¯t want to see them.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want them here, either, babe, but he¡¯s the boss. He calls the shots.¡±


    ¡°I thought you did.¡±


    His chest shakes with a chuckle. ¡°Not yet.¡±


    ¡°But you always-¡±


    ¡°Jack gives me a lot of free rein to do what I want because I¡¯m valuable to him.¡±


    The vein on my neck throbs as I take his cor in my hands. ¡°If you¡¯re valuable, you can ask him anything.¡±


    He smiles.


    ¡°Tell him that I don¡¯t have to die.¡±


    Tommy¡¯s expression sobers immediately. ¡°Mnie, it won¡¯te to that.¡± He yanks me until his lips move against mine. ¡°Trust me, I prefer you alive.¡±


    Then he kisses me and every drop of resistance inside me evaporates. Being wrapped up in his arms like this makes me forget every hurt he inflicted on me. He pushes the straps of my tank top down my arms until I¡¯m locked inside them, but this is the way he prefers me. He likes me when I¡¯m restrained against my will. It excites him. His hand moves underneath my shirt and pulls it up over the swell of my breasts. A grin spreads over his face as he pushes me down the couch. Energy rushes through my veins as his hard body falls over mine, his head propped up by his elbow. A slow burn blossoms over my cheeks as his heavy weight pins me down, trapping me underneath him.


    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t hurt me, right?¡±


    ¡°Of course not,¡± he says in a tired voice, his eyes focusing on my mouth.


    But he says it so automatically that despair floods my eyes, and he gently kisses my cheek.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you believe me?¡±


    I breathe in slowly, slightly overwhelmed by him. ¡°You don¡¯t-you hide a lot of things about yourself.¡±


    ¡°Like?¡±


    ¡°You said that you have anger problems before, but I don¡¯t see it at all.¡±


    A dimpled smirk curves into his face. ¡°Well, it¡¯s hard to be pissed off when I¡¯m inside you.¡±


    A violent blush runs up my neck, searing my cheeks.


    ¡°Instead of getting angry, I can just fuck you until my legs are numb and I¡¯m too tired to feel anything else. You¡¯re taking my edge away.¡±


    ¡°How do you feel about that?¡±


    ¡°What is this, a therapy session?¡±


    ¡°I just want to know you.¡±


    So I can get the fuck out of here.


    As that thought resonates through me, I don¡¯t feel the same sense of urgency I felt a week ago. Jesus.


    Then he shakes his head and sits up on the couch, dragging me with him. He pulls the straps on my shoulders and makes a deep, rumbling sound in his chest. His eyes close and he pinches the bridge of his nose.


    ¡°You want to know me.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re around each other all day, every day. I¡¯m tired of being afraid. I want to believe that you¡¯re not as much of a monster as you pretend to be.¡±


    ¡°You think this is an act?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what to think anymore.¡±


    He pulls me into his chest and I hear his heartbeat, as steady as a metronome. ¡°Do you really think I¡¯m faking it when my cock gets hard?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m talking about how you¡¯re acting around me. Like right now. I don¡¯t know whether you¡¯re just being nice because you need my cooperation, or if there¡¯s a part of you that likes having me around.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t do this to yourself, Mnie.¡±


    The coldness in his voice freezes the hope in my chest.


    What does he mean by that?


    A loud banging sound makes me jump in Tommy¡¯s arms. The front door rattles hard.


    ¡°No,¡± I moan into his chest. ¡°Please, don¡¯t!¡±


    Unsmiling, he gently takes my arms from his chest and stands up with me. Sobs rack my chest as I hear the furious voice outside the door, and Tommy grabs my face, pain etched over every feature.


    ¡°Stop crying. It¡¯ll be fine. Just shut your mouth, and it¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    No, it won¡¯t.


    ¡°Don¡¯t answer the door!¡±


    He holds me to his chest for a moment and squeezes hard enough for my lungs to lose air.


    ¡°TOMMY!¡±


    ¡°Jesus Christ,¡± he says with a frustrated sigh. ¡°I¡¯ming!¡±


    I walk into the kitchen with stiff limbs, taking a seat near the end of the table as Tommy walks to the rattling front door and unlocks it. My hands clench the table as the door swings outward, revealing a dark silhouette.


    ¡°Jack,e in.¡±


    The boss of the Vittorio family steps into the light and takes Tommy in an embrace, kissing both of his cheeks. Then several other men filter inside, people I¡¯ve never seen before. They walk inside with a nod to Tommy, cing themselves around the kitchen table like sentries.


    The smile Jack gives to Tommy looks tense. His lips pull over his teeth and he grins, the resulting effect making him look deranged. Then he turns down the hallway, making small talk with Tommy as his restless eyes find me. It¡¯s the first time I¡¯ve seen him since the courtrooms. Since I betrayed him.


    His shoes lightly clip over the linoleum as he makes a beeline toward me. I wrap my arms around myself as my heart thunders in my chest. I stare at his waist, because it¡¯s easier to look at than his face. It stops inches from me and for one wild moment I think he¡¯s going to force me to give him a blowjob.


    ¡°Look at me.¡±


    I flinch from the hatred burning in his eyes. His mouth twists with a cruel grimace and his face looks older somehow. Haggard and unkempt.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see any marks on her body.¡±


    Tommy¡¯s smooth voice sounds behind me. ¡°That¡¯s because I didn¡¯t need to give her any.¡±


    His intense gaze breaks from me to find Tommy. ¡°What are you talking about?¡±


    ¡°I have other methods,¡± he says mysteriously.


    I tremble in the chair as the boss faces Tommy, hands clenched at his sides.


    ¡°I expected more from you, Tommy. I came here expecting to see this bitch carved up from head to toe, but instead you did what? You fucked her into submission?¡±


    His eyes sh, but Tommy keeps a pleasant smile on his face. ¡°I don¡¯t like having my methods questioned, Jack. I know what I¡¯m doing.¡±


    The boss¡¯s finger jabs him in the chest. ¡°You¡¯ve gone soft. This bitch fucked over I don¡¯t know how many members of our family, and she¡¯s sitting here in perfect health? What the fuck has been going on here?¡±


    ¡°What the fuck does it matter as long as the job gets done? You won¡¯tin when she takes back her testimony.¡±


    Suddenly the boss turns toward the chair I¡¯m sitting in and the world spins as my chair wrenches backward, my headnding painfully on the floor. I cry out as Jack¡¯s body looms over me.


    ¡°Fucking stupid cunt, I ought to kill you for what you did.¡±


    I gasp deeply. ¡°I promise I¡¯ll do what he says. I swear I will.¡±


    He bends down and wraps his hands around my throat, squeezing hard until it bulges for air. ¡°You better, or I¡¯ll send people to kidnap your mother and your father.¡± He grins at my shocked expression. ¡°Yeah, we know where they are. I¡¯ll send Tommy in with a pair of pliers and a blowtorch. They won¡¯t go quickly.¡±


    Disgust contorts his face as he releases me and I sputter on the floor, grasping my neck and crying. He crushed my throat, and it almost feels deformed. Then a swift kick to my ribs seems to puncture my lungs, the dull, hard ache robbing me of all breath. Lying on my back, I see Tommy red-faced with rage as he shoves the boss¡¯s chest hard enough to make his back m against the kitchen counter.


    ¡°Do not touch her.¡±


    The only sounds in the kitchen are those of my gasping, desperate breaths. The venom in his voice shocks me.


    He attacked the boss in my defense.


    I can¡¯t believe it.


    ¡°You¡¯ve lost your fucking mind!¡± The boss grabs him by hispels and shoves him against the wall.


    ¡°I told you not toe here,¡± he says in a dangerously controlled voice. ¡°You¡¯re ruining everything I¡¯ve worked for thesest couple weeks.¡±


    I pick myself off the floor, hugging my knees as Jack shoves him higher against the wall. ¡°You¡¯re going to tell me what to do? Who the fuck do you think you are?¡±


    ¡°Jack,¡± he says in a calming tone, smiling slightly. ¡°We talked about this on the phone. You and your crew are fucked without me. I will get the job done. I always do.¡±


    Shaking, the boss of the family releases his hold on Tommy and he stares at him, his light eyes slightly watery.


    ¡°I sure hope you¡¯re right, because if all the capos she got indicted go down, we all go down. There are other crews out there itching to take us out.¡±


    ¡°Us? You mean, you?¡±


    Jack seethes, his teeth bared in a snarl. ¡°Don¡¯t get cute with me.¡± He pulls away, a menacing smile on his face as he turns toward me.


    Heat rushes through my body when he looks at me with that unpleasant leer.


    ¡°I can¡¯t fucking wait until this is over.¡±


    The grin on his face feels like a threat. My hands ball into fists and my fingernails pierce my palm. I¡¯m desperately trying to hold it together, but tears burn my raw eyes and they slip down my face.


    Tommy was lying.


    Jack can¡¯t wait until it¡¯s over, because I¡¯ll be dead when it¡¯s over.


    None of them notice when I copse on the floor, shaking. Jack wraps an arm around Tommy¡¯s shoulder as he walks toward the front door, their heads bent together.


    It ms shut and I barely flinch at the noise. I¡¯m on all fours, staring at the intersecting lines of the tiles, the same thought running through my head over and over:


    Tommy was lying. They¡¯re going to kill me.


    His footsteps ring in my ears painfully until I see his leather patent shoes edging inside my vision.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for that, sweetie.¡±


    The pet name and his gentle voice snap me out of my paralysis. I stand up so abruptly that Tommy starts, and my eyes scan the room, looking for anything sharp and metallic.


    ¡°Don¡¯te near me!¡±


    Tommy¡¯s slightly amused face swims in my vision and then finally I see it. A chef¡¯s knife just hanging on the corner of the counter. I lunge for the handle and grab it, triumph rushing through my veins as I raise it to him.


    His eyes widen and his grin falters. ¡°Easy, hon. Think about what you¡¯re doing.¡±


    ¡°I am!¡± I scream, my own voice hurting my ears. ¡°You¡¯re going to kill me after I give you what you want. Well, fuck you! I¡¯m not doing fuck all for you!¡±


    Tommy spreads his arms apart as he approaches me slowly. ¡°Mnie, listen to yourself. You don¡¯t make any sense. If you don¡¯t help us, Jack will hunt down your family.¡±


    ¡°I saw him! I heard what he said!¡± My eyes swim with tears, dangerously blurring Tommy¡¯s body from my eyes. I blink them away, holding the knife aloft.


    ¡°I¡¯m trying to help you, you stupid girl! Have I everid a hand on you?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re just trying to get me to trust you so that I¡¯ll believe that I¡¯m not going to be dead when this is all over.¡±


    His face crumples, all trace of amusement gone. ¡°I swear to you, I¡¯m going to do everything that I can to make sure that doesn¡¯t happen.¡±


    I shake my head,ughing. ¡°Why the fuck would you do that for me?¡±


    He takes a step forward, the ghost of a smile hanging on his lips. He sticks out his hand. ¡°Give me the knife.¡±


    There¡¯s no fear on his face, and somehow that frightens me.


    ¡°Give me the fucking knife.¡±


    A spasm of fear suddenly shoots through me. It¡¯s a trick. He wants me to give it back. He¡¯ll say anything he can to get the knife in his hands.


    ¡°No!¡±


    Tommy takes another step and Ish out with the knife. He raises his arm in defense and blood sprays across the floor. He clutches his arm to his chest, looking dazed, and crashes into the cabs.


    ¡°Fuck.¡±


    Shit!


    Instead of triumph, I feel nothing but shock. I feel as though I¡¯ve hurt someone who didn¡¯t deserve it. But he does, doesn¡¯t he?


    The hand holding the kitchen knife trembles and a smear of blood tarnishes the de. I look at the knife dripping blood, to Tommy, who clutches his freely bleeding arm. Horror swoops in my stomach. This isn¡¯t who I am.


    I never wanted to hurt him.


    The de drops noisily to the floor as I rush toward Tommy, seizing a roll of paper towels as my chest shakes with sobs.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Tommy. I¡¯m so sorry!¡±


    His face is nk with shock as he lets me wrap paper towels around his arm to stop the bleeding.


    ¡°Get me a towel from upstairs.¡±


    I sprint up the stairs and grab white towels from the rack in the bathroom, hurrying back down to find Tommy sitting on the kitchen floor, a smear of blood on the cabs behind him.


    The paper towels are already soaked through. I remove them and press hard on his wound with the towel. He looks at me with hazy eyes. ¡°You got me pretty good.¡±


    Fresh tears burst from my eyes. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I never wanted to hurt you. I was just scared.¡± Bright red bleeds through the towel. ¡°Oh God, what did I do to you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you even care.¡±


    I am, too. Shouldn¡¯t I be running out the front door? Saving myself?


    Whatever happened to that?


    Guilt swells inside me. I can¡¯t believe I actually stabbed him with a knife when he¡¯s never hurt me. I look at him, his eyes dented with pain. He lifts the towel slightly, and his face hardens when he looks at the wound.


    ¡°It¡¯s not that bad.¡±


    ¡°Why do you look so pale, then?¡±


    ¡°You took me by surprise.¡± He ces a finger on my quivering lip and then smoothes my face with his palm. ¡°I¡¯m not angry.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°Because what I¡¯ve done to you is worse than any cut you could give me.¡±


    Shocked, I hardly feel the hand caressing my face. He pulls me closer and soft lips tease mine, hardening when I respond back, leaning into his chest. His good arm wraps around my back and I wonder what the fuck I¡¯m doing. It¡¯s all lost now.


    What are we doing?


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I whisper into his chest.


    He protected me from his boss. Weeks ago he snatched me from that motel and threatened me with knives, and now I¡¯m sobbing into his chest when the front door is right there.


    Maybe I just don¡¯t see the point in leaving anymore. I feel safer in his arms than I do running out there.


    Our lips break apart and that incredible warmth spreads through my body, our foreheads still resting against each other as he moves his fingers in a circr motion on my scalp. Every touch of his that gently grazes my skin is like a live wire directly into my bloodstream. It scorches. Does he feel it, too? I pull away and study his flushed face.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to hurt you. Believe me, Mnie.¡±


    I do. I believe him.


    At least, my heart does.

 4-22

    TOMMY


    ¡°Tommy-boy.¡±


    Jack¡¯s fatherly smile greets me as I walk into the Italian grocery, his arm wrapping around my back as he invites me inside.


    ¡°How¡¯s your parents?¡±


    I shrug my shoulders. ¡°Same as usual.¡±


    It was always a bit depressing to return to their house at the end of every night. Ma would sit frozen on the couch beside Dad, who barely saw me through his alcoholic gaze. ¡°Where were you?¡± she¡¯d ask  hardly listening to the response.


    I had so many memories of tugging my mom¡¯s sleeves, her mouth set in a firm line as she ignored me, and ignored me, and ignored me.


    Jack takes me into the back of the store. ¡°Today I¡¯m going to ask you to do something a little bit different.¡±


    Something different? Excitement leaps in my chest as he pats my back.


    ¡°I believe in you, Tommy. You¡¯re a good boy. You¡¯ll make an excellent soldier when you get a bit older. For now, you can practice.¡±


    He leads me into his office, where there¡¯s a badly beaten man strapped to a wooden chair. One of his eyes is swollen shut. I inhale breath sharply through my nose and smell the sweat stinking from his body.


    ¡°Who the fuck is this kid? Jack, I didn¡¯t do anything.¡±


    Jack ignores the man, turning toward me. ¡°Do you have rats at home, son?¡±


    I blink. Rats? ¡°Um, sure. Sometimes.¡±


    ¡°What do you do with the rats?¡±


    ¡°My dad usually sets out traps for them.¡±


    His low voice hisses in my ear. ¡°This guy is a rat. I¡¯m going to show you how we get rid of rats.¡± He slides something hard between my numb fingers. ¡°Here, take this.¡±


    It¡¯s a knife.


    I swallow hard as my fingers clench around the handle, looking up at the man, whose eyes widen. I can see the whites of them. Jack moves from my side and grips the back of his chair. The man struggles in his restraints, eyeing the de in my hand.


    I¡¯m just a kid and he¡¯s scared of me.


    Then Jack turns his head toward the man sitting in the chair. ¡°You better smarten up and start giving me answers, or my friend here¡¯s gonna stick that knife right up your ass.¡±


    Jack gives me a smirk, and that twinkle in his eyes builds pressure in my chest. It¡¯s simr to that feeling you get when your father expects you to do something you really don¡¯t want to. You do it anyway, though, because you love him. You worship the ground he stands on.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what the fuck you¡¯re talking about-Jack! Stop this!¡±


    ¡°Hit him where it hurts, kid. Hit him hard, like you¡¯re punching someone.¡±


    The man in the chair struggles in his restraints, screaming at me. ¡°Don¡¯t listen to him! Think about what you¡¯re doing!¡±


    I hesitate, but Jack¡¯s smile urges me on. It¡¯s okay, because Jack said it was okay. He¡¯s done so much for me already. The knife almost slips in my hand. I want to throw up from the nerves balled in my gut. My fist makes a sphere around the handle and I aim for his stomach. He screams and the knife sinks in-it¡¯s much easier than I thought it would be. I thought there would be more resistance. High-pitched, awful screams turn my stomach. The handle sticks out of his flesh, vibrating with his heartbeat. He stares down at it in disbelief as a dark-red stain grows around it. Then his mouth opens, gushing blood.


    Jackughs. ¡°Holy shit, Tommy! You must¡¯ve hit an artery.¡± Heughs his ass off as if it¡¯s the best joke he¡¯s ever heard of while the guy chokes on his own blood.


    It slops all over his shirt, and he looks at me with horrible pain twisting his face. He¡¯s still pleading me with his eyes, even though I¡¯m the one who stabbed him. Dark gluts of blood burst from his mouth, and he stills after a few more seconds.


    Icicles grow on my heart.


    I killed him.


    Jack pounds my back, and I flinch from the sudden touch.


    ¡°Rx, kid. Here, have a drink with me. Every man should have a drink after his first.¡±


    I take the shot ss of amber liquid, my fingers trembling as I raise it to my lips. It¡¯s disgusting.


    My arm jerks across the bed as I wrench myself from the memory, eyelids fluttering open. My first hit. I nearly forgot all about it. The horror I felt in the dream has about as much of an effect as a butter knife on my skin. However, something about it gives me a sour feeling in my stomach. Something that Mnie said.


    He¡¯s using you.


    Controles naturally to me. I¡¯m a perfectionist, and because of it, I nearly always get what I want. I¡¯ve lived most of my life content with myself. There was always someone Jack needed to disappear, and the relief I felt from dragging my knife across their skin made me feel at peace. Sure, it was fucked up, but it worked. Jack condemned me to Hell the night he made me sink that de into that man¡¯s stomach, but it never bothered me again. It gave me a thrill greater than any high I could chase, and then simply killing them wasn¡¯t enough. I needed more.


    Now everything is spiraling out of control, and I feel like I¡¯m trapped in a nightmare. One of those falling dreams. My stomach lifts with the sensation of dropping a huge height, and I try to grasp something to slow my descent, but my hands keep slipping. Every time I feel like I have a firm grip, shees along and ruins everything. And I¡¯m back to free falling to my death.


    I¡¯m in bed, curled up with a beautiful woman living on borrowed time, after I promised that I¡¯d do everything I could to save her life. I would have promised her anything to keep that horrible look from her eyes. That using stare, the tears streaming down her face.


    Guilt.


    I haven¡¯t dealt with guilt in the better part of several decades, and now it¡¯s crushing my chest. I feel like a little boy again, being made to do something he doesn¡¯t want to do. I wrap my arm tighter around her waist, pulling her back against my chest and squeezing hard as if she¡¯s a heart living outside of my body. I¡¯m afraid to let her go, because if I do, she might die. I might die.


    A body can¡¯t live without a heart.


    There¡¯s a moment after waking up from a deep sleep when I can¡¯t remember anything. It happens every morning. I wake up feeling her lips on my chest, and I see her smile, and a peace that I¡¯ve never known washes over me. It¡¯s the happiest moment in my life.


    It lingers at the back of my head, but I ignore it sopletely that I don¡¯t feel a thing. Just her body in my arms. Her goddamn sexy body.


    Just look at her tits.


    They¡¯re perfect.


    I reach under her shirt and grab the huge globes, watching her closed eyes flutter and a smile spreads on her face. Every morning, she gets me so goddamn hard. She turns around, facing me, my hand still halfway up her shirt. A beautiful blush tinges her cheeks with pink.


    ¡°Good morning.¡±


    She lifts her arms as I tug on her shirt, watching her tits bounce on her chest as I ball the shirt and throw it across the room. Mnie¡¯s thigh grazes mine as she climbs over my waist, giving me a fantastic view of her body.


    My cock strains against my briefs. She can feel it riding her panties, and she grins at me, leaning over, kissing me on the spot in my neck where I¡¯m the most sensitive. My hands spread over her back and I sigh.


    I don¡¯t deserve her.


    I¡¯m not even sure whether she¡¯ll be alive in a few weeks.


    Tommy, you¡¯re a piece of shit. Just let her go.


    The thought makes me seize. Let her go? Are you crazy?


    A sick feeling spreads to all my limbs, a soreness that makes my skin hypersensitive. Sounds are too loud, and my chest won¡¯t stop rattling with my heart.


    She grabs my cock, fingers massaging the head as she pulls down my briefs. She opens her mouth on mine, and her tongue sweeps over my bottom lip. Then she bites down and sucks. Jesus Christ.


    I reach up and grab her waist, throwing her to the side as I tear her panties from her legs. My briefs are the next to go as Mnie wraps her legs around me, eyes zing. My throbbing cock pushes into her sweet pussy, which is sopping wet for me. There¡¯s only one thing that blocks it all out-and it¡¯s her. She throws her head back and gasps with a painful grimace as my cock sinks deep within her walls. It¡¯s instant relief. Her muscles tighten around me and then they slowly give way, opening wider. Her pussy feels so goddamn good. It¡¯s like a tight, warm, wet squeeze on my cock. The pressure builds as I thrust my hips into her. She squeezes my back with her legs and I drop down to kiss her hard. She gasps with every thrust.


    ¡°Tommy.¡±


    Fucking hell. The way she says my name. It¡¯s addicting. I drill my cock into her, kissing her, shoving my tongue down her throat. I grab her tits and squeeze hard enough to make her yelp. There¡¯s just so much of her I want to touch, lick, bite. I kiss a trail above her stomach, lips pressing over her skin as I im every inch of her with yet another mark. I realized when Jack came over that I¡¯d never be able to suffer another man touching her. She¡¯s mine. She was mine the moment I locked eyes on her in that club. Instead of flirting back, she gave me the finger.


    I was hooked.


    She arches her back as my lips go in for the kill-the small, pink, erect nipple, begging to be bitten. Nails w my back as I rock my hips into her. I¡¯ve never seen her like this before. Her eyes close when my cock buries inside her, her lips shaking as she ws my back. She wants me closer to her, but I want to fuck her until she screams.


    I pull out of her and grab her thighs, edging to the side of the bed as I drag her. Her long hair spills on the white sheets as I yank. Then I stand up on the side of the bed and aim my cock between her legs, which are hitched over my shoulders.


    ¡°I want you screaming my name.¡± Every day.


    A pretty blush blooms over her chest and I sink into her depths, the warm tightness yielding to my cock. From this position I can thrust so much deeper. She hitches a gasp when she feels the whole length of me pulsing inside her. It¡¯s a beautiful sound that strikes something deeply primal inside me.


    Fuck yes.


    I grip her thighs and thrust hard, another groan sounding from her throat. Again and again. Her voice deepens and then it rises in volume as she closes her frantic eyes.


    ¡°Oh my God!¡±


    Her legs rub against my cheek as I lean down in a swirl of lust, palming one of her creamy-white tits. Mnie¡¯s voice rebounds around me, urging me on, cursing.


    ¡°Fuck-I want more. Tommy!¡±


    ¡°More? You want more, huh?¡±


    I eye her glistening pussy and pinch her clit as I dig into her. She reaches for my chest with a pained expression.


    ¡°Yes!¡±


    It tears from her throat, making the blood pound behind my cock. I want to fuck the shit out of her and give her what she wants, but I¡¯m enjoying this too much. She¡¯s unraveled.


    Completely under my spell.


    ¡°In the beginning, you didn¡¯t even want me. Why should I give you what you want?¡±


    She opens her eyes, looking at me under her longshes. She says the most beautiful thing in the world: ¡°Let me suck your cock.¡±


    Who am I to deny her?


    It¡¯s as though I¡¯m on autopilot. Her legs slip from my shoulders and she slides down. Before I know it, she¡¯s kneeling in front of me, fisting my cock. Then her tongue flicks the swollen head.


    The back of my leg shivers.


    She engulfs me in her mouth as I get a fantastic view of her rosy lips moving up and down my shaft, her tits, her perfectly round ass, everything. She sucks hard at the base and the pressure behind my cock rises sharply. Jesus. I have to pull her back or I¡¯m going toe-I¡¯m going toe if she doesn¡¯t stop.


    Then she¡¯s the one in control. I¡¯ve fucking handed it to her. I never let this happen, but it feels too goddamn good, and her lips and tongue are perfect. My chest pulses; it¡¯s hard to breathe.


    I try to brush it off. A weak smile spreads across my face as I look down at her.N?velDrama.Org (C) content.


    ¡°You love sucking your master¡¯s cock, don¡¯t you?¡±


    A week ago she would have told me to fuck off.


    Now, she pauses for a moment, my cock making a popping sound from her mouth. The sight of her looking up at me, holding my dick in her hands, is almost enough to make me undone.


    ¡°I do.¡±


    She goes right back to sucking, and this time I¡¯m the one who releases a groan. It¡¯s incredible-the way she makes me feel, her little lips and tongue, ying with my cock, and then the heat of her mouth wraps around me like a glove.


    No, I can¡¯t let her do this.


    My fist balls in her hair and I hold her head back, legs trembling as her lips slide off me.


    ¡°Get up.¡±


    She rises to her feet with a little smirk I¡¯d love to wipe off her face. Her hand still grips my cock.


    I pull her close to me and nuzzle her ear. ¡°What do you think you¡¯re doing, huh?¡±


    ¡°I really like you.¡±


    How sweet. Too bad it¡¯s probably bullshit.


    Round, innocent eyes look up at me under longshes and I lift her chin with just one finger.


    Kiss me.


    She does, and it¡¯s so soft that I can barely feel her.


    ¡°I know you do, sweetheart. I like you, too. That¡¯s why I¡¯ve been so lenient on you, but it can¡¯t go on.¡±


    The boiling desire to seize her body and manipte her rises inside me like a pot of simmering water. I used to be filled with so much rage, and it drove me to pierce human skin, to slice, break, and maim. Now, there¡¯s only really one desire inside me. I want to own herpletely-every breath and little moan that she makes, I will manipte. She¡¯ll scream my name for more, when she used to scream nothing but insults.


    I step aside as she looks at me fearfully, her eyes batting like a doe¡¯s. Underneath the bed is my box of toys. The ck nylon rope slips through my hands. I stand up and wrap it around her waist, whispering in her ear. ¡°Hold still.¡±


    She does. I have her trained so well that she doesn¡¯t flinch when the rope loops around her legs and tits, wrapping around her waist to tighten around her hands, which are behind her.


    Her chest pulses against the ropes binding her, and I take a moment to wrap my arms around her to touch everything that¡¯s mine. I slide her hair from her neck as she releases a shuddering breath and I nt a kiss right on her bulging vein.


    ¡°The moment I saw you, I promised myself you¡¯d be mine. You were waiting for someone like me toe along. Someone to take charge.¡±


    Mnie turns her head, her big eyes looking at me imploringly. Her smile twitches. ¡°Yes.¡±


    I smile at her, stroking her cheek with my thumb as my mouth hungrily grasps her parted lips. A muffled moan vibrates through her lips into mine, and my cock swells.


    Of course she would be waiting for someone like me. When I met her she was stressed beyond her limit, tired of dealing with Jack¡¯s crew, tired of working at the club. She just wanted someone to take care of it for her. In a way, that¡¯s what I¡¯m doing right now. She no longer has to decide anything. I do it all for her.


    She probably never realized how freeing it would be.


    I turn her around and push her back so that she falls forward; I grab her bound arms to ce her gently on the bed. Her pussy glistens as she bends over, straining against her bonds. My cock begs for a release and I squeeze it. It¡¯s hard to believe that this girl is all mine to y with. She fought a little in the beginning, but became mine before long. She¡¯s so willing.


    ¡°Tommy, please.¡±


    Just the iteration of my name from her desperate mouth is enough to make me walk forward until she can feel the heat of my legs against hers. My cock lies t against her clit. I don¡¯t even have to tell her what to do.


    ¡°Fuck me, please!¡±


    I smooth my hands over her ass and then I rip my hand down hard. She squeals, her muscle clenching as blood surges to the surface. ¡°You belong to me.¡±


    I let my cock slide along her clit, drenching myself in her juices.


    ¡°Yes, I know.¡±


    ¡°Do you? Or will you say anything to get me to fuck you?¡±


    The broad head pushes inside her and she moans, attempting to move her hips back. I pull out just as quickly.


    ¡°I¡¯ll say anything.¡±


    A smile grows on my face at the thought that she¡¯d want me so badly that she¡¯d say anything. At least she¡¯s honest. ¡°Well, that won¡¯t do at all.¡±


    I step back and pull the box from under the bed. The metal egg had a great effect on her, so I pick it up. Her muscles flinch at the cool metal touching her pussy. ¡°Do you remember what this is?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she moans.


    I press the clicker and hold it against her clit as she bucks and moans. I¡¯ll force her toe dozens of times before she¡¯ll realize that I control her body. I alone have the right.


    Then I sink my cock into her weing folds, sighing as the warmth swallows me again. It¡¯ll be hard to keep myself from an orgasm. Her voice lifts in a scream as I sink all the way inside her, the egg still buzzing madly.


    ¡°Oh my God! No! No!¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the matter, sweetheart? It feels too good?¡±


    Her pussy drenches my hand. I feel my cock throbbing through her and I press down harder with my hand so that I can feel the vibrations running along my cock. My other hand anchors over her hip as I m my hips against her. She cries out, moaning with every thrust. It¡¯s like music to my ears. The pressure builds in my balls, urging me to fuck her harder, and Iply. I fuck her deep, loving the way her ass smacks against my hips, the way her tits sway back and forth. I grab her bound hands and use them to m her body against my hips. Her voice lifts to the ceiling, begging.


    ¡°More! Harder, please-oh God!¡±


    She pants and tightens around me and then I feel her clenching around my cock. It takes everything in me to pause, to hold her against me as her orgasm rips through her body. She turns her face on the bed, chest heaving, and then I start fucking the shit out of her. The egg buzzes loudly and she¡¯s brought right back to screaming for me. Still, I¡¯m holding myself back, preventing myself from losing control. The point is to make her lose control.


    ¡°I can do this all day, sweetie. I could fuck you ¡¯til the end of time.¡± Iugh at my little joke as she cries out with a strange half-sob.


    ¡°Please take it off my pussy!¡±


    ¡°Your pussy?¡± I shake my head, rubbing the egg in circles. ¡°It¡¯s not yours. I own you. If I want to make youe seven times while I fuck you raw, that¡¯s my business.¡±


    I can still see the sh of defiance in her eyes, the hint of a smile. She doesn¡¯t believe me.


    The egg in one hand, I pound her pussy until a second orgasm trembles her legs. Weak, still trembling, I force her to get up on the bed and then I grab a piece of tape to free my hands. I tape the egg to her clit as her stomach heaves with breaths.


    ¡°This is too much. I can¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Oh, we haven¡¯t even started yet.¡±


    With both hands freed, I grab her hips and rut her deep, the burning pressure starting to fog my mind. It¡¯s getting harder and harder not to lose control to the basic instinct that calls for me to empty my cum inside her sweet pussy. Within a few seconds her muscle tightens around me, squeezing hard as I keep pounding her, never allowing her a moment of relief. I grab her hands, fucking her until my balls ache, yanking her back into me. Then I pull her almost upright, hands on her tits as I bury myself deep.


    ¡°You are my little fuck toy,¡± I seethe against her ear. ¡°Your purpose is to please me.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± she screams. ¡°You¡¯re right.¡±


    I reach down and press down hard on the egg. She groans and tries to fight out of my arms, and it excites me. I grab her neck and squeeze. The rattling sound her breathing makes sends a jolt to my cock. Then she finally stops fighting me, and I throw her forward. My body follows her. She moans when my weight falls on her back and I seize her hair, lifting her head.


    I¡¯ve lost it.


    I can¡¯t help it. She¡¯s so fucking wet and her pussy feels incredible, and I¡¯m fondling her tits. Mnie keeps making sounds as if she¡¯s in pain, her voice lifting higher and higher until she lets out a mighty groan and the telltale twitch of muscles around my cock, still thrusting away.


    ¡°You were always right.¡± A single tear streams down her face. Defeat.


    I reach underneath her waist and I tear off the piece of tape, throwing away the rattling egg. My body jerks against hers, burrowing deep. Close-so close.


    ¡°C¡¯mon, baby. Moan for me.¡±


    I wrap my hand around her hair and lift her up, our flesh smacking together so loudly that it sounds as if I¡¯m beating her.


    ¡°Tommy!¡±


    Our orgasms rock through our bodies together. I copse over her, finding her mouth to kiss her deeply as my cock twitches, jet after jet of cum sting her pussy. Euphoria washes over me and exhaustion trembles up my leg as I pull out of her.


    With her legs bound together she falls on her side. I stretch myself beside her, running my fingers along her body as she gazes back at me. I push the strands of hair stuck to her head away from her face and for a while both of us lie there in shaking relief.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know why I want you.¡± Her cheeks flush a deep magenta.


    I understandpletely what she means. She was here against her will, and now that will is slowly being manipted.


    ¡°Don¡¯t feel ashamed for wanting someone who eases your life. Wouldn¡¯t you rather fuck me every day than work at that club you hated?¡±


    ¡°But you hurt me-you humiliated me.¡±


    I slip my hand down her gorgeous throat. ¡°I could have done a lot worse and you know it. Besides, you liked it. Admit it.¡±


    Her eyes dip down. ¡°Maybe I do. That still doesn¡¯t make it okay.¡±


    I slide closer to her and her eyelids flutter. Reaching behind her back, I slowly untie her binds. It¡¯s nice to be so close to her, so I take my time. My heart clenches when she leans in and kisses my chest, and then again when she kisses the base of my throat.


    I need to kill whatever¡¯s between us. This is dangerous.


    The rope slips down her hands and then she reaches around my waist and nuzzles against my chest, and the tender feeling inside me magnifies a hundredfold.


    ¡°I wanted to touch you the whole time.¡±


    I shouldn¡¯t let her do this to me, but it¡¯s so nice to lie in bed together. With other women, that moment after sex was always the loneliest of my life. Stripped from desire, there was nothing left. No connection, just a deeply unsatisfied feeling. I fucked around with a lot of women, but never wanted to hold one before. Not like this.


    Drowsiness steals my limbs and I pull a sheet over both our bodies. She curls up against me, her curves pressing into my side. Her pulsing chest lulls me to sleep like a luby. I shouldn¡¯t. I should lock her downstairs.


    But I can¡¯t let her go.

 4-23

    MELANIE


    I don¡¯t know who I am anymore.


    The realization paralyzes me to the cold, empty bed as my eyes search the cracks in the ceiling frantically, as if there¡¯s an answer for me somewhere in there.


    It¡¯s not that I¡¯ve gone crazy. I know my name, my mind just draws a nk when I think about who I am. It turns out that I was wrong about everything and he was right. In the beginning, he told me what would happen.


    You¡¯ll beg me to suck my cock.N?velDrama.Org owns ? this.


    And he was right, wasn¡¯t he?


    My body radiates with aches fromst night. A line of heat sears my spine when I think about my legs wrapped around his torso, my body shaking with every thrust. Somehow, Tommy manipted my feelings for him. Instead of revulsion, I find myself missing his warmth. There¡¯s still a healthy dose of fear, but I no longer want to rebel against him. Why should I?


    I slip inside the bathroom and start the shower, convinced that he¡¯s downstairs, and I let the hot spray soothe my aches and bumps. Last night was brutal. I¡¯ll be sore for days. I reach down and feel myself, slipping a finger between my lips as I remember how the ropes felt, how they made my breasts stick out of my chest and how I was utterly powerless, wrapped up in bondage.


    My troubled thoughts seem to echo in the shower as I wash myself. I dry myself off andb my hair with a short ckb. I search for a blow-dryer, but there¡¯s nothing there. Shutting the cab in frustration, I march into the bedroom.


    He¡¯s still not here.


    I look through his dressers for something to wear, only finding oversized male t-shirts that drown me when I pull them over. I find a pair of ck sweatpants and pull them on too. Damn, it feels nice to wear clothes, even if they barely fit. I head downstairs, my bare feet soft on the splintered wood. He¡¯s not in the kitchen. He¡¯s not in the living room. I even open the closet and peek down the dungeon, the sight of which makes me tremble.


    Nothing. He¡¯s fucking gone!


    Then a gust of wind blows through the house, and then I look toward the source and my mouth gapes.


    The front door is wide open. It wavers slightly, almost as if it¡¯s beckoning to me.


    ¡°This has to be a trick.¡± I raise my voice. ¡°Tommy, where are you?¡±


    No response.


    Perhaps he had to leave in a hurry.


    Perhaps there was a struggle.


    None of these possibilities seem at all likely, but I can¡¯t ignore that freedom is only a few steps away, and nothing can stop me.


    Do I even want to be free anymore?


    The rming thought propels me down the hall. I take hesitant steps forward until I¡¯m standing in the doorway. ¡°Tommy?¡±


    Maybe he¡¯s setting me free.


    A sea of white stretches beyond the porch of the house. Snow nkets the ground. It¡¯s hard and packed, like ice. To my left is a sparse forest, the branches looking like skeletal remains. There¡¯s nothing else. God, it¡¯s just as deserted as he said it was and I have no idea where I am. I¡¯m not even wearing shoes.


    I¡¯ll take my chances with the outdoors.


    Freezing, I dart out into the snow, my feet screaming with the contact of the packed surface. I walk slowly at first, heart hammering as I move away from the house. I expect him to sprint after me, materializing behind a mound of snow or perhaps around the house, but he¡¯s nowhere to be seen. Then I sprint toward the woods, screaming when my foot plunges into a foot of freezing slush. My skin numbs from the contact, but I force myself to keep plowing through.


    Keep going. You may not get a chance like this again.


    The forest bounces in my sight, the dark branches no longer frightening. Beyond it, I see another farm.


    I trip over a root andnd on my knee hard, hissing in pain as my skin scrapes into an angry red gash. Freedom. It¡¯s right there. I can almost reach it.


    Yes! I reach the sanctuary of the trees. Almost crying with relief, I don¡¯t stop. I barrel through, hardly feeling the cold anymore. Then I turn around a trunk and collide with something very solid.


    ¡°Oof!¡±


    My body crashes on the freezing ground and I look up into the stunned gaze of a man dressed in a navy-blue jacket, with gold letters stamped across his chest. FBI.


    What?


    ¡°Ms. Ronaldo?¡±


    He helps me up and all of a sudden the cold returns to my limbs and I shake in his arms, teeth chattering.


    ¡°Get me out of here!¡±


    ¡°Hang on. You¡¯re safe.¡± He pulls the radio from his side. ¡°Right. I found her. Taking her to rendezvous point. Over.¡±


    Freezing tears of relief cascade down my face as he helps me limp through the snow, toward the car parked just beyond the forest. He opens the door for me and I slide inside, moaning in gratitude when he turns on the heat.


    ¡°H-How did you find me?¡± My teeth chatter with the cold.


    ¡°We received intel from someone inside. We were going to raid the house.¡±


    I shake my head. ¡°There¡¯s no one there.¡±


    He drives me away from the house, across the farnd to a street in the middle of a small town. The heavy weight I¡¯ve been carrying for weeks finally lifts from my shoulders. I¡¯m free. No more worrying about what¡¯ll happen to me. Still, it all feels artificial. Perhaps it¡¯s the stimtion from the town. For weeks it was just Tommy and I, and that crappy, old house. People mill on the streets and cars zoom past us, spraying slush on the sidewalk. Everything is too bright. It¡¯s too much.


    I¡¯m ushered out of the car, barefooted on the icy streets as he brings me into an office, up a set of stairs, and into a conference room where there are four other men, simrly clothed, waiting for us.


    ¡°You must be freezing,¡± the man who rescued me says. ¡°I¡¯ll get you a cup of coffee.¡±


    I whimper in thanks and sit down at the table, trembling violently. An olive-skinned man gives me his jacket.


    ¡°Right-so, uh. We have a few questions for you, Ms. Ronaldo.¡±


    They sit down in front of me in their FBI jackets, looking uncharacteristically hostile. The man returns with the mug of coffee and presses it into my hands. He stands at the door like a sentry.


    ¡°I just want to go home,¡± I tell them. ¡°Where¡¯s Agent Palmer?¡±


    They ignore my question. ¡°What happened at the motel? Who kidnapped you?¡±


    My guts clench and I bite my lip hard. I was on the verge of telling them what happened to me, but I can¡¯t rat on Tommy. I gave them up once, and look what it cost me.


    ¡°I-I didn¡¯t. I wasn¡¯t kidnapped.¡±


    The one in the middle creases his forehead. ¡°You weren¡¯t kidnapped? You vanished from a motel on the 28th, leaving behind your wallet and cell phone. You have a trial in five days, and no one¡¯s been able to reach you.¡±


    I sp the cup of coffee, taking a sip even though it burns my tongue. ¡°I left on my own.¡±


    His hands clench over the table, his thin face trembling. ¡°Look, we already know what happened to you. It¡¯s obvious that the Vittorios sent someone to kidnap you-¡±


    ¡°No, I left on my own ord.¡±


    ¡°Mnie,¡± he says in a kinder voice. ¡°There¡¯s no reason to be afraid anymore. You¡¯re safe. We¡¯re not going to let you out of our sight. Now, tell us the truth.¡±


    They couldn¡¯t guarantee my safety before. They got me once, they could do it again.


    And the next one might not be as kind as Tommy.


    ¡°I am,¡± I say in a firmer voice. ¡°I left on my own.¡±


    He ms his fist on the table, making the coffee ssh on my hands. I release it, crying out as it burns my fingers.


    ¡°Listen to me, you stupid cunt. You better start talking, or I¡¯ll throw that cup of coffee in your fucking face.¡±


    Jesus Christ.


    A rush of heat makes me stumble as I stand up. Then I back against the wall as he gets up from the chair and moves around the table. I look pleadingly at the others for help, but they seem unperturbed.


    ¡°Why are you-?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re asking the fucking questions.¡±


    He seizes my hair and I scream in pain as he hisses right into my ear. ¡°Tell us what happened and you won¡¯t get hurt.¡±


    What the fuck is going on?


    ¡°Who the hell are you?¡±


    Suddenly the door ms open. A very familiar, tall figure strides through the door, and I topple to my knees as the FBI agent releases my hair. It¡¯s him. Him. How did he find me? My heart stalls in my chest and the strangest relief runs through my limbs.


    Tommy is dressed in a pair of cks and a light-blue dress shirt, looking immacte as the FBI agents hardly nce at him.


    What¡¯s happening?


    His amused gaze turns sour as he looks at the man standing next to me. ¡°What the fuck are you doing?¡±


    He stiffens. ¡°You told me to interrogate her. That¡¯s what I was doin¡¯.¡±


    Confusion and fear mingle together as Tommy takes a few menacing steps forward. I shuffle backward on my hands, terrified of the look storming his face, but then he grabs the FBI agent by his neck and ms his head into the wall.


    ¡°Cops don¡¯t threaten to throw mugs of coffee into people¡¯s faces, moron.¡±


    Oh my God.


    The truth crashes over me, and my arms shake, barely able to support my body. I was never free. A sour taste runs in my mouth as I look at him. The whole thing was a trap. A setup. Tommy never left the house. He was watching me the whole time. Was this some sort of test?


    The room echoes with a sudden choking sound that I realize ising from my mouth. Some of the guys nce at me, and I turn to face the fogged over window.


    I didn¡¯t say a word, right? My heart pounds furiously against my chest.


    ¡°Sorry, Tommy.¡± The man wearing the FBI jacket rubs the back of his head when Tommy releases his cor.


    It urs to me that they¡¯re all mobsters. Tommy probably hired them to do this to me-to fuck with my head one more time. Jesus Christ, is it ever going to stop?


    ¡°She didn¡¯t cave,¡± someone else says.


    I cry out when I feel his hand on my back, but his touch is gentle. He helps me stand to my feet and I try to swallow, only to make desperate, gulping sounds. His arm wraps around my waist and he wipes the tears from my eyes.


    ¡°Take it easy, hon. I¡¯m not going to hurt you. You did wonderful. I¡¯m proud of you.¡±


    Proud of me? Waves of shock crash through my despair. I thought that he was going to hurt me for running off.


    He turns his head toward the others. ¡°Thanks, guys.¡±


    They nod at him and tear off their jackets, filing out the door as they recognize his dismissal. Then it¡¯s just him and me standing in that room.


    There¡¯s a chill in his eyes that I hate to see. It fills me with guilt and more sobs shake from my throat. I know that I failed his test and there¡¯s no telling what he¡¯ll do to me now.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I thought you wanted me to leave.¡±


    ¡°I never told you that you could leave.¡± His gaze softens. ¡°I¡¯m a little disappointed that you left, but I think it¡¯s safe to say that you¡¯re ready to go outside with me.¡±


    My head pounds with heat. ¡°How could you expect me to stay in there? Do you realize what you¡¯ve done to me-do you even care?¡±


    He releases me, losing the warmth in his voice and adopting a cool detachment. ¡°I care about getting you to do what I want.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sick and tired of these head games,¡± I say as more tears squeeze through my eyes. There¡¯s a suffocating pressure on my lungs. It crushes the life out of me. ¡°I thought I was free-I thought I could go home.¡±


    ¡°When are you going to realize it? You¡¯ll never be free again.¡±


    He kisses my cheek, almost as if it¡¯s an apology, but it feels like ice burning my skin.


    Never?


    I feel as though I¡¯m running through a maze of nondescript white halls, all of them the same. My eyes search for a way out, and he¡¯s around every corner.


    You¡¯ll never be free again.


    His arms tighten around me, mercifully giving me the affection that I need. He speaks warmly into my ear as he strokes my back.


    ¡°Believe it or not, I am trying to help you. I was always trying to help you.¡±


    And it¡¯s true, isn¡¯t it? Some sick, demented part of me can¡¯t help but agree with him. He neverid a hand on me, even though Jack probably ordered him to. He even defended me from him, and saved me from that lunatic who was about to throw boiling coffee in my face. No, Tommy never did anything except give me the most mind-blowing sex I¡¯ve ever had, and hold me in his arms as we fell asleep together.


    And keep you captive.


    I cling tightly to Tommy¡¯s shirt, not certain that I¡¯ll never be able to let go.

 4-24

    Searching for wisdom in my head is a fruitless enterprise. Nothing but optimistic nonsense shes in my mind, phrases I¡¯vee across in children¡¯s books and ones my mom used to utter all the time.


    No, there¡¯s no positive spin on the fact that I¡¯m a captive, possibly for life. In the end, what did I expect would happen? That they would just let me go on with my life, no problem?


    I sink into the car seat and let out a long sigh, wondering why I¡¯m not angrier about this. I wonder about a lot of things, like why a pleasant shiver runs through my body when he strokes the transparent skin on my wrist. My hand finally links with his, and a smile hitches on my face. I don¡¯t understand it.


    The Manhattan skyline stretches in front of me as Tommy drives over the Brooklyn Bridge. It¡¯s midday and the skies are bright blue. Perfect for taking a walk or a bike ride. It¡¯s one of those days where you feel guilty for staying inside.


    ¡°Where are we going?¡±


    ¡°To my house. You¡¯ll feel at home, I promise.¡±


    He promises.


    I stare at him as he gives me a secretive smile and his hand gently squeezes my leg. The pressure sends warmth through my skin. Honestly I have no idea what¡¯s going on anymore. I don¡¯t know what game he¡¯s ying at, bringing me to his house.


    ¡°Tommy, what the hell is going on? Why are you taking me to your house where anyone can see me?¡±


    The car thunders across the bridge, the bars casting shadows over his face as he grins. ¡°We want to be seen, hon. There¡¯s a charity dinner tomorrow that you¡¯ll be attending with me. Everyone will be there.¡±


    Everyone?


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    ¡°You will.¡±


    Through the snarl of traffic, we finally arrive at Tommy¡¯s home in West Vige. He lives on a quiet, upscale street. Snow is shoveled to the side in dirty mounds, and I grimace, thinking of the cold wetness on my bare feet.


    ¡°Wait,¡± he says as he parks the car.


    He gets out, his boots crunching on the snow as he moves to the passenger side and opens the door. A gust of cold air blows into the car and my teeth chatter. Smiling, Tommy bends to his knees and beckons to me.


    ¡°C¡¯mon. I¡¯ll pick you up so you don¡¯t have to walk through the snow.¡±


    ¡°Tommy, it¡¯s okay-¡±


    But he slides an arm behind my legs and neck and stands up with hardly a grunt before I can utter another word of protest. I squeal in delight as he lifts me into the air, swinging me around as if I¡¯m a rag doll in his arms. His chest erupts withughter as I tighten my arms around his neck, toes curling against the cold.


    God, we almost seem normal.


    It¡¯s freezing outside. The cold bites my toes hard as all the hair stands up on my arms, and Tommy¡¯s breath billows out like smoke.


    ¡°Hopefully I don¡¯t fucking slip on these steps.¡±


    I cling to his shoulders as he carefully climbs them. I expect him to put me down when he reaches the top, but he doesn¡¯t. He somehow unlocks the door and we walk inside the heated, narrow hallway. He shuts the door, finally letting me down to my feet. My face heats as I slide down his chest.


    ¡°Thanks. You didn¡¯t have to carry me like that.¡±


    It was sweet, really.


    He says nothing as he bends down, removing his shoes. I turn around and take tentative steps forward into his apartment. So this is Tommy¡¯s home. I wander through it, checking out the living room first. Bright, white walls and soft, blue couches. There¡¯s a small ss coffee table and two ck leather chairs, with a brick ent wall. It¡¯s a beautiful apartment, really. The kind of ce I dreamed I¡¯d have when I made it. I find it interesting that he¡¯d live here, and not in some fancy high-rise downtown. Here, it¡¯s quieter.


    I stand next to the window, gazing down at the silent street as Tommy moves behind me. His arm snakes around my waist as he nts a kiss on my neck.


    ¡°Come see the bedroom.¡±


    He takes my hand and leads me from the living room to his room. The sheets andforter are dove-gray. The headboard rests against another brick ent wall, and he pulls me into the closet, flicking on the light. On the left, there are all of his suits and ties of ranging color. The right side has more variety of color-blue, green, even shocking pink. I reach out and slide one of the hangers to the side, realizing that they¡¯re all women¡¯s clothes. In my size.


    I take a blouse from the bar, the hanger shaking in my hand. My voice is hardly a whisper.


    ¡°How did you get these?¡±


    ¡°I have my ways. I¡¯ve seen you naked enough times to know what size you are.¡±


    He smiles at the blush burning my cheeks and kisses me as a whirl of confusion seizes my body. Tears suddenly prick my eyes, and I don¡¯t know why. Everything is just so fast, and I can¡¯t untangle it from my mind.


    ¡°What¡¯s the matter, hon?¡± he says in a gentle voice.


    ¡°Why are you doing all of this for me?¡±


    I search his hazel eyes for the truth. Oh God. Is any of this real, or is it just another trick to cate me?Exclusive ? material by N?(/v)elDrama.Org.


    ¡°You mean, why am I doing this for myself? That¡¯s easy. I¡¯m a selfish man, and I want you for myself. There will be times where you¡¯ll have to leave the apartment, and you can¡¯t go out looking like that.¡± He smiles, looking at the men¡¯s t-shirt and the ill-fitting sweatpants.


    ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant.¡±


    ¡°Then I don¡¯t understand what you¡¯re asking.¡±


    His calm gaze irritates me. ¡°What does this all mean? What is this between us, Tommy?¡±


    The calmness on his face warps into a mask of pure unadulterated lust. He advances on me like a predator, his presence stifling the walk-in closet. His eyes smolder like bright, glowing embers.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t mean what you think it does.¡±


    My breath catches as he lifts a hand to my neck, the contact burning my skin. ¡°Then-what?¡±


    ¡°It means that even if you¡¯re freed from Jack, you¡¯ll never be free from me.¡±


    His mouth burns my lips, his hand painfully clutching my neck. I open my mouth and lift the flimsy shirt separating us, and then he moans when my breasts tten against his chest. I don¡¯t know how to exin why his possessive words drive me insane with desire. It always pissed me off before, when he assumed that I must¡¯ve been into him. I was, of course, but that didn¡¯t stop me from being annoyed. Now, it¡¯s the opposite. I need him to control me. At the same time, my heart clenches. I want more than his lust. I want his heart, too.


    But I don¡¯t even know if he has one.


    Mine hammers hard against my ribs, the sleepy smile on his face enough to make tendrils of something warm and thrilling curl around my heart. The muscles in his chest are like steel. His breath catches in his throat as I slowly unbutton his shirt and spread my palms over his warmth. The dimples carve deeply into his face.


    How could I ever think of going back to my old life? What was that, anyway? Pining after college students and living with an unseated desire that burned my insides. Tommy gives me everything I wanted. He makes me feel truly alive.


    I don¡¯t want to leave him.


    Holding my breath, I expect my heart to gallop ahead. I expect horror. Regret. Something.


    Not calm eptance.


    My hand stills. ¡°Tommy, can we talk?¡±


    He grins at me, hair hanging around his face and his shirt half open. ¡°You want to talk? Now?¡±


    Then I meet his gaze and he balks under my stare. ¡°How long is this going tost?¡±


    ¡°Until I say so.¡±


    Goddamn it. I just want a real fucking answer.


    ¡°Mnie, I¡¯m having way too much fun with you right now to just give you up to Jack, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re afraid of.¡±


    It¡¯s not.


    It feels like a swift blow to the sensitive area right underneath my ribs. I care about him. Why can¡¯t he see that?


    Whatever, just go along with it.


    ¡°Swear it on your mother¡¯s head.¡±


    I hold his head, feeling his rapid heartbeat through my palms.


    Good, so I¡¯m not the only one who¡¯s affected.


    Heughs handsomely, cing a hand over his heart.


    ¡°On my mother¡¯s head, I swear.¡±


    Like any promises a mobster makes are worth a damn.


    I raise myself on my toes, my lips bumping against his hard enough to make him stumble backward. Heughs as his hand squeezes my ass, a low growl reverberating in his throat.

 4-25

    A scared face stares back at me from the mirror. She¡¯s all dolled up-lips in a deep-red shade of hue, hair ironed straight, a ne shining at the base of her throat, golden hoops dangling from her ears, and a long, seductive dress flowing down her curves.


    She looks petrified.


    No amount of makeup will erase the truth zing on my face: that I was kidnapped. I was coerced, but it doesn¡¯t feel like it anymore, does it? I barely blinked an eye when Tommy told me I¡¯d never be free from him. Maybe being freed from him scares me more than being his captive. What would I do? Where would I go?


    I take a deep breath and unlock the door of the bathroom, finally stepping out after more than an hour of being inside. Tommy sits in the living room, looking breathtakingly handsome in his suit. He hears the sound of my heels clipping on the wooden floor and turns around. An appreciative whistle splits the silence. He stands up immediately, that dark look smoldering his face again. He raises his hand to my face, but at thest moment touches my neck instead.


    ¡°I won¡¯t ruin your makeup. I can¡¯t promise anything forter tonight, though.¡±


    I clutch the hand on my neck. ¡°Tommy, I can¡¯t do this.¡±


    The desperate note in my voice makes the smile on his face disappear. ¡°Yes, you can.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t face them-not after everything-¡±This is property ? of N?velDrama.Org.


    ¡°I know it¡¯s hard, but I¡¯ll be with you the whole time. I promise.¡±


    ¡°I just don¡¯t understand why I have to be there.¡±


    He sighs, closing his eyes. ¡°It has to be done. If they see you with me, it¡¯ll make your testimony unreliable. It¡¯d be even better if they caught us banging at the party,¡± he adds in a husky voice.


    I push him away, swallowing the anger I¡¯m barely containing inside me. Their faces cycle through my mind: Vincent, Joe, Jack, Nicky. I ratted them all out, and I¡¯m going to see them. I¡¯ll have to look them in the eyes and swallow my pride.


    This isn¡¯t fair.


    ¡°Hey, look at me.¡±


    The tone in his voice stirs hope in my chest. I look at him.


    ¡°I won¡¯t let anything happen to you tonight. You just have to be brave for me. Most of it¡¯s drinking and dancing.¡±


    I nod at his smiling face and he kisses the tip of my nose.


    ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go.¡±


    We gather our coats and I grab my clutch, and he follows me out the door. The icy wind howls the moment we step outside, and I climb down the steps to his car.


    We¡¯re going to some sort of mob charity dinner.


    ¡°It¡¯s a great way to touch up a muddy facade,¡± Tommy exins.


    Cops love to attend these events-it¡¯s an opportunity for them to wire the ce and eavesdrop, but business is never spoken there. It¡¯s really just a night for fun, to look charitable in the public eye. Makes them look good. It¡¯ll just be an opportunity for the feds to see that I¡¯m alive, to make me an unreliable witness. It¡¯ll make it easier on me when I retract my testimony.


    He parks the car somewhere in Midtown, and Tommy gs a taxi so we don¡¯t have to walk the five or so blocks to the event. He¡¯s just trying to be nice, but frankly I¡¯d prefer walking through freezing snow than taking a taxi directly there. It¡¯s better to prolong the inevitable.


    I cling to Tommy¡¯s jacketed arm, grateful for his warmth. He gives me an amused smile as my arm locks around his in an iron grip, preventing him from leaving the taxi. A blush rises in my cheeks and I let go of him, immediately missing his warmth, but Tommy stands up and I grasp his waiting hand. I shiver against him, the shrug draping my shoulders doing little to keep me warm.


    We approach the venue, Tommy peeling several hundred dors from a roll and handing them to a man in a tux, who ushers us inside.


    Heating vents from overhead st us with warm air as we walk through the ss doors, into a dimly lit reception hall. White tablecloths cover dozens of tables, all of which have beautiful centerpieces. Dark branches with white iris flowers intertwined in the wood reach up from the center of the tables as white candles glow softly around them. Soft jazz music ys from a stage as we weave through the tables, the smell of food sickening my stomach as Tommy takes my waist and drags me around.


    Finally I spot Vincent and what must be his wife sitting at a table set for six. Jack Vittorio sits there, too, and my stomach clenches with the memory of his foot kicking my side. His wife sits in a glittering white dress, looking bored. Nicky sits with his wife at a nearby table.


    Oh no. No, no, no.


    It¡¯s toote. Tommy brings me close to the table and Vincent¡¯s eyes narrow in malevolence. Fury swirls in his ck eyes, which give me a poisonous look. He opens his mouth aggressively, but Jack ces a hand on his arm. His wife, however, peers at me curiously. She¡¯s dressed in blue silk, as beautiful as her husband, but without the hostile gaze.


    ¡°Adriana, Carme, this is my girlfriend, Mnie. Hey, Jack.¡±


    My what?!


    Shocked beyond belief, I don¡¯t even see the hand floating in my vision. Tommy digs his elbow in my side and I take Adriana¡¯s hand, my lips spasming under her beaming smile.


    ¡°Nice to meet you!¡±


    I can tell from the smile on her face that she has no idea who I am, or the part I yed in her husband¡¯s indictment.


    Holy fuck.


    Stiffly I walk toward the boss¡¯s wife, who gives me a cool smile and a limp hand to shake. Vincent¡¯s widened face tells me that he¡¯s not the only one who is surprised.


    He¡¯s just saying that. He has to in front of the women.


    ¡°Tommy, where¡¯ve you¡¯ve been, you sneaky fuck?¡± Nicky¡¯s voice cracks through the quiet table, but his face darkens when he sees me standing beside him. ¡°What the fuck is she doing here?¡±


    His tone earns scandalized looks from Adriana and Carme, and suddenly Tommy appears at his side, whispering in his ear with a cruel grimace. I sit down at the table and feel cold panic creeping over my skin, deliberately avoiding Adriana¡¯s curious looks.


    ¡°Good to see you, Adriana, Carme.¡± He nods politely in their directions as he returns to the table, meeting Vincent¡¯s furious gaze. ¡°Hey, Vinny.¡±


    Contempt rolls from his gaze and he grips the stem of the winess, his fingers so white that I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll explode. He nods his head, apparently not trusting himself to speak. I don¡¯t dare look at Jack, who wasn¡¯t as good at hiding his disgust for my presence as Vince.


    A small, feminine voice suddenly pipes up. ¡°Mnie, are you all right?¡±


    The mention of my name snaps my head to the left as I carefully avoid her husband¡¯s heavy gaze. The concern written on her face fills my body with lead. I never felt guilty for ratting on her shitty husband until now. I never thought of Vincent¡¯s wife, or any of their wives, except to feel sorry for them.


    ¡°I-I¡¯m fine.¡±


    Her eyes wrinkle a bit. She doesn¡¯t seem to believe me, and then I feel Tommy¡¯s lips against my neck and my muscles freeze. He kisses the shell of my ear as his hand snakes around my back.


    ¡°Calm the fuck down,¡± he whispers into my ear.


    Seriously? How am I supposed to do that?


    I can¡¯t calm down, even in this beautiful ce with the jazz music softly ying in my ear. The men surrounding me look at me with a promise shining in their pitiless eyes.


    I¡¯m going to die.


    My hand slides over hisp under the tablecloth and I grab his thigh, pinching him hard to relieve some of the stress shaking my limbs.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to get a drink,¡± he announces to the table.


    He grabs my hand in a vise grip and I rise from the table, Adriana¡¯s face shining with concern. She immediately bends her head to her husband when we walk away.


    I chew my lip hard, nearly crying with relief when we reach the bar. Tommy pulls me into his arms, gazing down at me with a serious look. ¡°You have got to rx.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± I hear my voice croak. ¡°Why is it so important?¡±


    He sighs, turning toward the bartender to order a couple vodka tonics. He leans over the bar, passing the drink down to me. ¡°You want to live, don¡¯t you?¡±


    I wrap my hands around the drink and a hoarse grunt leaves my mouth as I nod my head.


    ¡°Then you have to act like you arepletely head over heels for me.¡±


    A bit of the drink slips down my chin as I swallow a huge gulp and sputter, fire zing down my throat and watering my eyes. He chuckles and takes a sip of his own, pulling me into his chest. His fingers sy over my bare back and the brief contact doubles the warmth zing down my body. A single finger tips my head backward and hot lips and tongue take my mouth, the biting taste of alcohol lingering on him. My mind swims when he pulls back, even though we¡¯re just standing still.


    I don¡¯t want him to let go.


    The ze inside me kicks up and I pull his head closer. ¡°Tommy, I don¡¯t have to pretend with you.¡±


    Nothing betrays the small, pleasant smile on his face. ¡°Don¡¯t you?¡± his deep voice rumbles.


    No, and I can¡¯t tell you how fucked up that is.


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand what¡¯s happened to me.¡± Taking the drink, I tip my head back and anotherrge swallow makes me giggle.


    Tommy thrives under the attention. For weeks I rejected him and now he has me eating out of the palm of his hand. It must feel good. He bends closer, speaking lowly so only I can hear him.


    ¡°I wish there was a room somewhere I could take you and fuck your brains out right now.¡±


    His voice sears the back of my head and my eyes scan the ce, searching for something with my drink in hand. I take his hand in mine and tug.


    ¡°Where are we going?¡±


    I stop abruptly and he bumps into my chest. ¡°Somewhere you can fuck me.¡±


    I know I¡¯m already drunk and the devilishughter he gives me sends heat pounding in my core. The bathroom is a logical choice, and I find a handicapped one with a lock in the door, pulling him inside quickly. Tommy¡¯sughs echo in the tiled room, his hands smoothing my shoulders.


    I lock the door and turn around.


    He¡¯s grinning ear to ear. ¡°Are you serious? You want me to fuck you here?¡±


    ¡°This night will be a lot easier if you¡¯re inside me for at least part of it.¡±


    Tommy¡¯s face turns pink for a moment, but he quickly recovers, shaking his head and grinning. ¡°Jesus.¡±


    Then my back ms against the door as he covers my tits with his hands, groping hard as his mouth crushes mine. My head rolls against the wood as his lips trail down my neck, sending clenching pleasure between my legs. Everything is somehow amplified with the alcohol coursing through my veins. Every thought, every small caress on my skin revolves around getting that thickening bump in his cks between my legs. His face buries between my tits and my nipples roll in his mouth, sending electrical shocks throughout my skin.


    Normally I would be disgusted with the thought of fucking in a bathroom, but this one is pristine. There¡¯s not a drop of water on the marble counter and the mirror is free of smudges. Also, I¡¯m drunk as fuck and there probably isn¡¯t a ce I wouldn¡¯t mind fucking him right now. My hands slide down his torso, over his waist, and over that thick bump hardening between his legs. His body responds, his hips grinding against me as he lets out a hissing groan. I curl my fingers around his cock, stroking the length and feeling the pebbled crown of the head.


    ¡°Fuck me, Tommy.¡±


    It¡¯s like a magical phrase that unlocks whatever door he has inside his head, keeping his sanity from escaping. His arms wrap around my legs and he lifts me into the air, setting me on the counter. His face is frenzied with passion. He slides his hands under my dress and his fingers rub against the thin lingerie, brushing where the wetness seeped through. Fingernails grasp the thong I¡¯m wearing and he rips it down my legs, stuffing my panties deep inside his pocket. My pussy clenches at the cold air stinging my wet folds. He makes it worse by flipping my dress over my stomach, exposing me, but his warm hands run all over my thighs.


    A nasty grin widens his face, and he bends down, parting my legs. His breath billows over my pussy, and my hands contract over his shoulders.


    ¡°What are you doing-oh!¡±


    Suddenly a wet heat engulfs my pussy and I gaze down in amazement, watching Tommy¡¯s lips and tongue sucking my clit. Hetches on and pulls hard, his tongue flicking against my clit. A harsh whine lifts to the ceiling and I bury my hands in his head, thoroughly messing up his hair.


    His hands run over my thighs as he reaches back with his tongue, running along my slit as I contract against him. Oh my God, it feels so good. Then he pulls back, breathing hard as he kisses my inner thigh. Fingers y with my clit, and my chest heaves as he looks up at me.


    ¡°I thought I told you that I was the boss of you.¡±


    Breath hitches in my chest as his fingers sink into me, and I let out a long groan. ¡°Y-you are.¡±


    ¡°Then where the hell do you get off on giving me orders?¡±


    A small grin escapes through his hardened facade as I sputter out nonsense, too aware of the fingers arching inside me. Then he bends back down and I feel his breath warming my pussy. His mouth devours my clit, tongue nudging the sensitive flesh as he digs in with his hands.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t-oh, Tommy! Please. Please-I need you!¡±


    He arches his back and stands up straight, the fierceness in his eyes back again. He strains his cks over his cock, and my heart rate picks up when his thickness bounces out of the confines of his pants.


    Neither of us can wait anymore.


    My legs wrap around his waist and a brief, blunt pressure sits on my pussy, and then we both exhale identical groans of relief when he slides in. I lie on my back, crying out when he takes hold of my hips and thrusts deep, impaling me in one swift stroke. I grasp his arms and then he fucks me in earnest. It¡¯s a nonstop, merciless pounding,pletely different from the other times we¡¯ve fucked. A quick, hard fuck.


    ¡°Your pussy always feels so amazing,¡± he sighs. ¡°I can¡¯t keep my hands off you. You¡¯re just so-fucking-sexy.¡±


    He punctuates every word with a jerk of his pelvis, his cock burrowing deep. It¡¯s painful and overwhelmingly good. He¡¯s so big that I¡¯m almost tempted to scream for him to stop, but every cell inside me cries out for more. The fingers he used on me smear over my lips, and I open my mouth to suck them.


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s right. Taste yourself.¡±


    Suddenly my ass explodes in pain as he rips his hand down over my left cheek, the blow burning my sensitive skin. I¡¯m an animal, reduced to only the basest feelings of pleasure and pain. I crave both from his hands, and he always seems to know exactly how hard to push me, increasing my threshold for both.


    ¡°Look at me.¡±


    t on my back, I look at Tommy¡¯s brown eyes, narrowed in exertion. Beads of sweat roll over his forehead and I reach up, wiping them away. He wraps his hand around my throat and squeezes gently.


    ¡°Do you trust me?¡±


    Another deep burrow of his cock sends my voice to the ceiling. ¡°Yes!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to hurt you.¡±


    The hand around my throat slowly squeezes as he pounds away. I¡¯m oblivious to the fact that fewer air travels through my throat. His cock pulses inside me, my muscles clenching around him, and the lightheadedness only amplifies every sensation. My airway closes so that only a hair¡¯s width of oxygen makes it into my lungs, and still I don¡¯t fight him. His other hand suddenly gropes my breast, and I arch my back, chest flush against his as he leans down.


    His forehead touches mine as he grimaces and chokes my neck, ck spots now prickling at the edge of my vision. His hips jar me again, his cock stuffing me to the brim, and then I convulse around him. The hand around my throat releases and I gasp for air, hearing the same desperate breaths from him as he holds me tightly, emptying his cock inside me. His lips brush over my neck, kissing where he held me.


    Never have I been so grateful to breathe. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and kiss him, bliss turning my muscles to mush. My body feels wonderfully sore, every inch of me still sensitive from the waves radiating from my core. As he pulls away from me, his forehead still resting on mine, a strong sensation pounds in my heart. I can see the same thing throbbing in his eyes.


    Then he shakes the look from his face and stands up, pulling out of me with a kind of drunken backward stumble. ¡°Well, goddamn, Mnie. You are-¡± he shakes his head, smiling, ¡°unpredictable.¡±


    Is that all I am to him? A greaty?


    He helps me stand up, still unwilling to let go of me. I turn around and get a view of myself in the mirror.


    God, we both look like a mess.


    It takes at least ten minutes for us to clean up and look presentable, and by that time someone hammers on the bathroom door.


    ¡°Shit!¡±


    Tommy, however, grins. ¡°Oh well.¡±


    Right. I suppose this is one of the least horrible things he¡¯s done in his life. Why would he care?


    But he wraps an arm around me with an unconcerned smile as he rips open the door. An old man in a wheelchair looks at us, irritation crossing his features.


    ¡°Sorry, man.¡±


    Tommy gives the old man a small shrug and the patented I-just-fucked-that, smug look. The old man can¡¯t help but grin back. I¡¯m mortified as he drags me out of the bathroom, back to the table where our food waits for us.


    ¡°Sorry, we, ah-just had a few drinks at the bar-¡±


    Vince hardly looks up from his te. ¡°We saw the whole thing.¡± Then he finally gives him a small smile.


    Carme¡¯s face twists with anger and Adriana¡¯s face burns brightly, but probably not as badly as mine must look. My whole body heats and I cringe at the sound of Jack¡¯sughter.


    ¡°Hey, don¡¯t look at me. It was her idea.¡±


    One of them says something in Italian that I don¡¯t understand, and the men roar withughter. Vincent¡¯s fists pound the table, rattling the silverware, and Tommy escorts me to my seat. Hatred paints my vision red as I stare at the white tablecloth, my mood suddenly ruined. I just can¡¯t be around these people and rx. Now they must think I¡¯m some kind of whore.


    I nce at Tommy, who digs into his te, unconcerned. He doesn¡¯t look ashamed. Every so often he leans over to kiss the shell of my ear and whispers something sweet. Jack watches these disys of affection over the rim of his ss, his expression unreadable.


    Why is he doing this in front of his boss? I¡¯m the enemy, aren¡¯t I?


    I hardly touch my food, even though my stomach growls with hunger. Around Vincent and Jack, I can¡¯t lower my guard. My head stays down during the dinner. I¡¯m counting the minutes until I¡¯m done with this goddamn charity from Hell, and then Tommy tugs at my arm.


    ¡°Dance with me.¡±


    I look into his smiling, oblivious face and shake my head. ¡°I can¡¯t dance.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    Sighing, I obey the pressure in my arm as Adriana looks at us wistfully. ¡°I wish I could get my husband to dance with me.¡±


    Vince rolls his eyes at his wife and throws an arm around her shoulders, giving her a tender look that I never thought was possible to see on his face. He almost looks human. They¡¯re all human, aren¡¯t they?


    The arm on my waist urges me forward, and we sweep through crowds of people to reach the dance floor. Suddenly a cold handtches around my arm, stopping me.


    ¡°Ms. Ronaldo?¡±


    A man I¡¯ve never seen looks at me as though I must be an apparition. Tommy turns around with a scowl on his face.


    ¡°Do I know you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Detective Nelson-our department¡¯s been searching for you. Where the hell have you been?¡±


    ¡°Is there a problem, officer?¡±


    The insolent tone draws Detective Nelson¡¯s attention away from me to the man edging his body in front of me.


    ¡°What the fuck?¡± He moves his head around Tommy¡¯s body to look at me. ¡°Ma¡¯am, is this man holding you captive? Did he kidnap you from the motel?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I say quickly. ¡°He¡¯s my boyfriend. I left on my own.¡±


    Squeezing Tommy¡¯s fingers hard, I move away from the man, who jogs to keep up with us. ¡°Wait! You can¡¯t just-I have to call my superiors, to tell them you¡¯re still alive! I really must insist that you stay here until they arrive.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re leaving.¡±


    Tommy squeezes my hand back, letting me know that this is fine with him. We return to the table and my head feels as if it¡¯s going to burst. He says something to Jack and whisks me away, heading for the front door. I¡¯m so relieved to leave that I¡¯m practically jogging to the exit. Tommy gets his coat from the coat check and wraps it around me instead, tugging it around my shoulders until my arms are pinned against my sides. He leads me outside and I gasp in the freezing air.


    ¡°See? It wasn¡¯t that bad.¡±


    He kisses my cheek and wipes the stray tears from my face, frowning at me. I gasp when I feel the cold wetness smearing across my skin, having not realized that I was crying at all. Confusion seems to be a permanent state of being for me, but it burns to the background when his mouth falls over mine hotly, his lips kissing me with a tenderness I never knew existed inside him. It makes tears fall faster down my face.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    I don¡¯t know!


    I jerk my head to the side. ¡°Let¡¯s just go-you must be freezing.¡± My heart clenches when he takes my hand, rubbing my skin to warm me even though he¡¯s just wearing cks and a thin jacket. His breath mists into the air.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t bother me.¡± He walks down the street, holding my hand. ¡°Something¡¯s obviously bothering you. Just tell me.¡±


    ¡°Why do you care?¡± I burst, suddenly rounding on him. ¡°Your boss and your friends hate me. Honestly, Tommy, where the fuck is this going? Why are you ying with me?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m doing what I want. I don¡¯t give a fuck what they think.¡±


    A surge of hope fills my chest, all the way to my neck and behind my eyes. Tears obscure my vision and freeze on my cheek. ¡°You didn¡¯t answer my question.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know where this is going.¡±


    ¡°I want to be with you, Tommy. I don¡¯t just want to be-I want it to be real. I¡¯m happy with you.¡±


    I study his face, which is pink with cold. Hazel eyes cut into me, but then heughs, losing that shocked look.


    ¡°You¡¯re just saying that because you haven¡¯t had any freedom. It¡¯s only normal to get attached to the person you¡¯re spending so much time with.¡±


    ¡°No, that¡¯s not it. Even if you told me I could leave you, I wouldn¡¯t want to.¡±


    Tommy stammers, suddenly looking ufortable. In all the time I¡¯ve known him, I¡¯ve never seen him look nervous. Then the look changes in an instant, and all of a sudden he¡¯s hostile.


    ¡°What the fuck are you asking me? What do you want, damn it?¡±


    I approach him until my breath frosts over his chin. ¡°You wanted me, Tommy. You have me. Now what are you going to do with me? Fuck me till your dick falls off?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that sounds like a good n.¡±


    Enraged, I rip off his wool coat and shove it in his arms, even though I¡¯m freezing. He barely manages to catch it, looking bewildered as I storm away on the wet streets. I¡¯m yanked back after a few steps, his hand curling around my arm. The heavy wool coat falls on my shoulders again, but I twist around and shove Tommy.


    ¡°What the fuck is wrong with you?¡±


    He lookspletely baffled at my behavior, the heavy coat still in his arms. A twinge of guilt makes me take a step forward, and he takes the opportunity to wrap it around me, looking relieved when I let him.


    ¡°I want more, Tommy.¡±


    He looks up at me, looking lost. ¡°Sweetie¡­I just don¡¯t know if I-¡±


    I can¡¯t hear the rest, not when he uses that high voice men use to tell you kindly that they¡¯re not into you.


    ¡°Mnie, stop crying. Please stop.¡±


    I can¡¯t.


    He¡¯s broken me, and I can see the regret all over his face.

 4-26

    TOMMY


    Oil rigs pull in the distance like seesaws and I stand on a hill, oblivious to the freezing wind sting my face. I allow it to roar through my shirt, chilling my skin until I can¡¯t feel my hands. Still, I don¡¯t move. The agonizing, biting cold seeps through my muscles. My hope is that it¡¯ll freeze my heart.


    The quiet rumble of a car down the road makes me stick my hand in my jacket pocket to grasp the piece, but I recognize the shock of white hair on the driver and know it¡¯s just Jack. My hand falls from my jacket and I blink, eyelids sliding over cool marbles.


    He shudders as he parks the car and wraps his beige coat around himself. Jack grabs my face and kisses both cheeks.


    ¡°Did you leave someone to watch over the girl?¡±


    I shake my head, heart clenching at the mention of her. ¡°No, there¡¯s no need anymore. She won¡¯t do anything that¡¯ll upset me.¡±


    He gives me a strangledugh, pounding my back. ¡°I can¡¯t fucking believe how talented you are, Tommy. When does she meet with the feds?¡±


    ¡°Tomorrow,¡± I say, my heart beating in my chest hollowly. ¡°Her testimony will be retracted tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± He nods, looking at me with heat broiling in his eyes. ¡°Listen, Tommy. I want to be there when you do it. Looking across the table at dinner into that cunt¡¯s eyes was hard enough-¡±


    ¡°I told you and Vince many times why she had to be there,¡± I say, my voice louder than ever. A small twitch of rage shes over me like a sudden burst of me. She¡¯s not a cunt.


    ¡°I know. I trust you, Tommy.¡±


    His heavy hand ps the back of my shoulders, and another burst of anger spreads over my chest. He makes me feel guilty for not wanting to kill this girl.


    ¡°I want to see her beg. Her body will be a message to everyone else-¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I say in a soft voice.


    Suddenly the image of her lifeless corpse fills me with panic.


    ¡°No?¡± he says in a dangerous voice.


    The deadly look on his face makes me envision a cloud of icy wind wrapping around my body.


    ¡°It¡¯s going to be quick and clean.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s a fuckin¡¯ woman, that¡¯s why. I have limits.¡±


    His face dissolves intoughter until tears shake from his eyes. ¡°You have limits. What is this, a fucking joke? Are you fucking kidding me? Do I need to describe to you what you did to thest guy?¡±


    Laugh it up.


    ¡°I don¡¯t hit women, Jack. I don¡¯t care what she¡¯s done.¡±


    He grins at me. ¡°Fine. Have it your way.¡±


    Sickened, I turn away from him. ¡°I¡¯ll call you when it¡¯s done.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll do the ceremony right after I see her body.¡±


    The ceremony? Oh God. His promise. Being made.


    I forgot about it. What¡¯s wrong with me?


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    Jack gives me a strange look before he turns back to his car and drives away. I walk stiffly toward mine, settling inside the warmth of the car.


    All I feel is the weight bearing over my shoulders, thepleteck of interest inmitting to what I set out to do, the despair rattling my bones.


    For the first time in a long time, I feel. I hurt.


    I used that girl callously, lying through my teeth about every promise I made her. I never expected it to hurt so much. I never thought that her tears would knock me down to my knees and make me want to beg for her forgiveness. I just wanted to fool around with her. It wasn¡¯t supposed to get this far, but somewhere along the line I got attached to her, too. Of all the things in my life, this is the worst thing I¡¯ve ever done. Making a girl fall for me, only to kill her anyway.


    It¡¯s cruel.


    And I¡¯ve just made the biggest mistake in my life.


    * * *


    My life is basically a case study in hedonism. I deny myself nothing. Through force or sheer tenacity, I always get what I want. That¡¯s why the life always appealed to me. Want something? Go steal it. Someone giving you a hard time? Break his legs. Nothing¡¯s off limits.


    So imagine my frustration when I find myself wanting someone I can¡¯t have. Not because she¡¯s not interested. Because Jack wants her dead.


    Resentment slowly builds up at the bottom of my stomach like caustic acid. The problem is that I can¡¯t just tell the boss of the family to go fuck himself and expect to leave this ce in one piece.


    A low moan groans through the duct-taped mouth of the man I¡¯m supposed to be working on. I vaguely recognize him as a fellow associate belonging to Nicky¡¯s crew. I wonder what excuse he gave Jack to whack him, and why the fuck he isn¡¯t here, watching me take care of his shit.


    He¡¯s half-Italian, just like me. Widened brown eyes stare at me, his nose making terrified, sniffing sounds. I grasp his shoulder, feeling nothing but the hollow beat of my heart.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what the fuck to do anymore.¡±


    A series of muffled words bulge under the duct tape. He¡¯s probably trying to convince me not to kill him, but I¡¯m not having a crisis of conscience over that.


    I want her.


    ¡°Even this has lost its fun.¡±


    I sink the de under his flesh, waiting for that beautiful, red color to spill from his wound. He screams into the tape and I feel my chest shake.


    This is how far I¡¯ve fallen. Spilling my guts to a man I¡¯m about to kill.


    Blood slips down the de and around my fingers. I yank it out of him and watch him bleed, expecting to feel something other than crushing despair. I have to make a choice-and soon.


    ¡°She told me she wanted more,¡± I say to him with a small smile. ¡°With me, of all people.¡±


    Thinking about it like that makes meugh, but I can¡¯t forget the high I felt when she told me that. She dragged me into the bathroom at a charity g ball so that I could fuck her brains out.


    I can¡¯t just let her go.


    To be wanted by someone like her is a greater thrill than taking someone¡¯s life. I¡¯ve never felt it before.


    ¡°I¡¯m not the type to second-guess myself. I don¡¯t get attached to people, period, but this one-this one¡¯s gotten deep under my skin.¡±


    I clutch the broad kitchen knife, sighing when I catch my troubled expression on the t of the de. Then I look at his face, desperately seeking an answer from him, but all I see is terror and pain.


    No, I can¡¯t throw everything I¡¯ve worked for away. She¡¯s just a woman. I¡¯ll find another one.


    But it¡¯s not just about finding another one anymore, it¡¯s about the guilt poisoning my stomach and the joy I feel when I hold her to my chest. No one ever gave that to me-no one ever even came close. She told me that she wanted to be with me. Was it real, or is she too fucked up from her captivity to realize that I¡¯mpletely wrong for her?


    Doesn¡¯t fucking matter. I want her, and I¡¯ll have her.


    ¡°I always get what I want. Maybe this is no different.¡±


    The man screams into his duct tape and yanks against his restraints, tears leaking out of his eyes.


    I¡¯ve really lost it.


    The de thick in my hand, I reach out and quickly slice through his carotid artery. What the fuck ever. This is aplete waste of my time. I m the de on the table, not even waiting to watch him die as I storm out of the metal cage where I watched so many of them die, andughed when they struggled. I reach out for the taps and wash the blood from my hands, gritting my teeth as I scour my flesh.


    I need tomit to it.


    The boss waits for me in the back of the room, his reading sses propped on his nose as he examines some paperwork. He looks older with them on and not as threatening. It¡¯s just the two of us, and somehow that makes it easier.


    ¡°Jack.¡±


    He raises his head and peers at me, perhaps sensing some of my desperation. ¡°What¡¯s wrong, Tommy-boy?¡±This is property ? of N?velDrama.Org.


    ¡°I want her alive.¡±


    A heavy sigh leaves his chest as he drops the sses on the table and stands up, looking more and more like the boss who intimidated me as a child.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    Because I need her.


    My hands shake at my sides from suppressed rage. I can already tell what he thinks of my request, and I won¡¯t be able to control my outburst.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t enough for me anymore.¡± I swallow hard as I look into his lined face, which softens when he hears my response.


    ¡°Tommy, Tommy, Tommy.¡±


    The fatherly tone in his voice suddenly burns my mouth with acid. ¡°Don¡¯t do that. Don¡¯t fucking patronize me-¡±


    He gives me a sharp look. ¡°You know that I can¡¯t let her live. What kind of example does it set if I just let her walk?¡±


    I know, but I don¡¯t care.


    ¡°She¡¯ll never talk to anyone, Jack. I made sure of that. There¡¯s no fucking need to kill her, and you know it.¡±


    ¡°If Vinny¡¯s wife talked to the feds, what do you think would happen to her? I would expect him, and any one of my guys to follow through with the same orders. The famiglia matters more than our wives, even our children. It definitely matters more than some bitch who testified against us.¡±


    Not to me it doesn¡¯t. The realization of that makes me swallow hard.


    Why should I kill her when the problem will resolve itself? Revenge? I don¡¯t give a fuck about the other guys she ratted on.


    ¡°I need your word that nothing¡¯s going to happen to her.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t give you that,¡± he says in a gritty voice.


    ¡°Then we¡¯re going to have a fucking problem.¡±


    He stares at me incredulously for a moment and thenughs. ¡°Of all the guys, I never would have expected you to do this.¡± He jabs me in the chest, snarling. ¡°You never gave a fuck about any of the assholes you tortured in that room. You spend a couple weeks sinking your dick into a fucking rat, and you think that means something? You think that girl gives a shit about you? She¡¯s just biding her time. She¡¯s a cunt, Tommy. She deserves to die, and she will.¡±


    A lightning bolt strikes directly into my chest, burning every surface of skin. My vision blurs and my hand suddenly reaches out, grabbing Jack¡¯s cor.


    Fuck. You.


    ¡°You made me like this, Jack. You put that knife in my hands, remember?¡±


    Light-blue eyes harden like shards of ice. ¡°Take your fucking hands off me. I¡¯m the boss of this family-¡±


    The grit rolling from my voice surprises me. ¡°A boss without any captains facing at least twenty years in the can.¡±


    ¡°Is that a threat? I¡¯ll fucking kill you, you half-mick mezzo-fanook.¡±


    Somewhere behind my rage, my worldes crashing down as I stare into those perfectly indifferent blue eyes. I fought for him. Would have killed for him. The one favor I ask of him, he turns me down. Then he calls me a mick, as if I¡¯m just any regr jerkoff.


    ¡°Touch her, and I¡¯ll make her sing to the feds. She does whatever I tell her to. If anyone else has a problem with that, they know where I live.¡±


    The eyes stare back at me defiantly and then his mouth pulls into a bitter smile.


    Then I know I¡¯ve won.

 4-27

    MELANIE


    I¡¯ve spent the better part of three weeks wondering if I¡¯m going insane, and every morning I wake up in a distinctly confused fog. Is this all a dream? It seems like one. I was stolen from the life I hated, and he handed me a new one that I initially rebelled against.


    Pain and pleasure.


    My legs stretch on the blue satin sheets, which are pleasantly cool to the touch, and I slip from his bed. The cold floor immediately makes my toes curl, and I open the huge walk-in closet, inhaling the smell of Tommy¡¯s suits. I touch the cuff of one of them and a pleasant squirm moves inside my stomach. Then I grab a fluffy blue bathrobe and descend the stairs.


    The smell of coffee roasting burns the air. Suddenly I¡¯m pitched forward into memory and I recall the FBI agents clutching their mugs of coffee. My heart gallops forward, and I remember that today I¡¯m supposed to meet with them. The staircase squeaks and cracks as I descend, somehow adding to my anxiety.


    He sits in the kitchen, still dressed inst night¡¯s clothes with his face buried in his hands. Concern tightens around my heart and I approach his broad back,ying a hand on the back of his neck. I¡¯m afraid he¡¯ll throw the hand off, but the tension in his muscles seems to rx a little.


    ¡°Tommy?¡±


    He finally perks up, moving his head out of his hands to look at me through bloodshot eyes.


    ¡°Sit down.¡±


    Refusing to look away from him, I pull out my chair, my chest starting to shake from my hammering heart.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    His fingers make a scratching sound from the stubble on his face as he runs them across his chin. ¡°Do you still want to go to college?¡±


    I sit down next to him, surprised by the question. Yes, that deep-seated yearning is still there. It¡¯s not going anywhere, anytime soon. ¡°Yeah, ¡®course I do. I just can¡¯t imagine how it¡¯ll be possible, after everything.¡±


    ¡°I could have given you whatever you wanted, Mel. I would have.¡±


    Curious, I nce at his profile. His lips are turned down and his eyes are ssy.


    What the hell?


    I take his hand in mine and he turns my palm around, bringing it to his lips. ¡°What-what¡¯s going on?¡±


    ¡°You need to go,¡± he says in an urgent tone. ¡°You need to get the fuck out of here while you still can.¡±


    My breath catches in my chest. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve got to get away from me before I get you killed.¡±


    I snatch my hands away from him. ¡°What the hell are you talking about? I¡¯m not leaving!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to do something crazy that¡¯s probably going to get me killed, and I don¡¯t want you caught in the crossfire. When you meet with the feds-¡± he breaks off, suddenly biting into his closed fist, ¡°make a deal with them.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I¡¯m on my feet, blood racing through my veins. ¡°Is this some kind of sick joke? You spent weeks trying to get me to throw out my testimony. Now that I¡¯m finally willing, you change your goddamn mind?¡±


    ¡°Mnie, it¡¯s not like that.¡± He stands up, hands circling around my arms. He gazes down at me with a desperate look on his face. ¡°You think I want this? I¡¯ve spent my whole life in the mob, trying to be someone I¡¯ll never be. At least, not anymore.¡±


    My body feels strangely numb as he pulls me into his chest, giving me a fierce hug. ¡°You need to leave here and nevere back. You deserve to follow your dreams without someone like me in your life.¡±


    Tears spring in my eyes as heat billows in my chest. ¡°No, I¡¯m not leaving-¡±


    Fingers caressing my cheeks cut off my words. ¡°You have to, sweetheart.¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t had a say in anything thesest few weeks, but this is a choice I¡¯m making. I want to be with you.¡± My voice trembles as a tear slips down my face.


    His face turns as if he¡¯s just heard something unpleasant. ¡°Please go. Just get the fuck out of here, and save yourself.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Damn it, Mnie. Don¡¯t make me hurt you.¡± A menacing look shes over his face, reminding me of when he first kidnapped me-the knives on the table.


    ¡°You destroyed everything I was, and now you¡¯re just throwing me away?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not! I¡¯m giving your life back to you. I¡¯m giving you a chance to survive. Isn¡¯t that the right thing?¡±


    He looks like he no longer knows what¡¯s right and wrong.


    Everything he says makes sense, I know that. The logical part of my brain wants me to listen to him. Flee. My heart breaks at the thought of leaving him, of never being able to feel his hands on my hips and his lips on my face, and never hearing his voice again.


    ¡°You made me fall for you. I can¡¯t go on with my life as if you don¡¯t exist.¡±


    He pulls me into a fierce hug as my body shakes with sobs.N?vel(D)ra/ma.Org exclusive ? material.


    ¡°I love you.¡±


    I hear his sharp intake of breath, and suddenly his embrace feels frozen. ¡°You don¡¯t know what you¡¯re saying.¡±


    ¡°Stop doing that. I know how I feel.¡±


    He disengages his arms from my back and looks at me with a pained expression. He rakes his hand through his hair and stares at me, looking quite terrified at the very idea of love.


    ¡°Mnie, just ask yourself this: Why the fuck would I love someone who kidnapped and tortured me?¡±


    The apartment rings with my sobs as I copse into his arms. I don¡¯t know why. Love doesn¡¯t always make sense.


    ¡°You gave me something I never felt before. You protected me from Jack.¡±


    ¡°Mnie,¡± he says in a raw voice. ¡°The whole time, I was prepared to end your life. That was the n all along. I lied to you.¡±


    Something cold spears through my chest as I stare into his eyes, which are creased with misery. I search them for any indication that he might be lying, but I don¡¯t see anything but the painful, raw truth. Nausea rises in the back of my throat. I suspected what he was going to do, but I trusted him when he told me it wouldn¡¯te to that.


    ¡°When?¡± It sounds like a harsh growl.


    ¡°I don¡¯t-¡±


    ¡°When did you decide that you weren¡¯t going to kill me?¡±


    His eyes lower from my heated gaze. ¡°I don¡¯t know, exactly. It doesn¡¯t matter, Mnie. I don¡¯t love you. I never will.¡±


    I stumble backward from him, somehow struck by the force of his words. If he stabbed me in the stomach, it would be less painful. Shameful tears invade my eyes as that dark look descends over his face again.


    I feel like such an idiot.


    ¡°Don¡¯te back.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the worst thing that ever happened to me.¡±


    I hurl the words at him, determined to hurt him as much as he hurt me, but a small, apologetic smile appears on his face.


    ¡°You never broke. If you did, you wouldn¡¯t be able to talk to me like that. If there¡¯s one thing I¡¯m happy about, it¡¯s that.¡±


    ¡°Fuck you.¡±


    Pain momentarily shes over his face before he turns around, and I feel a stab of guilt.


    ¡°Goodbye.¡±

 4-28

    Where should I go?


    What should I do?


    My feet wander the streets of New York, crunching over the hard-packed snow as I stare around my surroundings, bewildered. Where else is there to go, but home?


    I suspect my parents are already there, probably worried sick. Thinking of them brings along a fresh wave of misery. I can¡¯t face them and exin everything that happened. They would never understand.


    I told him I loved him, and he returned the favor by throwing me out into the street. For weeks I knew nothing but him. He brought me to highs I never knew existed and inflicted pain on me. He broke me down until I couldn¡¯t dream of living without him. Everything was so that I¡¯d retract the testimony and those scumbags would get off the hook. I would¡¯ve done it for him.


    He doesn¡¯t feel the same.


    He never will.


    I feel like a bird without wings. The world doesn¡¯t make sense anymore. He bound me so tightly to him that I couldn¡¯t see a future without him. Now he wants me to fend for myself?


    And how am I supposed to get over this pain that¡¯s racking my soul? I¡¯m beyond tears. He reached in and tore out all my guts. I can¡¯t even walk with a straight back, because everything feels like it¡¯s caving in.


    Why do I love him?Exclusive ? material by N?(/v)elDrama.Org.


    I ask myself that because he¡¯s right. It¡¯s an important fucking question, but I just can¡¯t answer it. I just know that I need him.


    Before him, there was nothing but darkness clouding my future. No end in sight. I hated my life.


    Then he kidnapped me, and I was so pissed off. Most of the anger was directed toward myself. I was angry with myself for the choices I¡¯d made that led me in that basement. My parents deserve a little bit of that me, too.


    Tommy fucked the anger out of me. He took my pride and crushed it into dust. Then I learned to trust in himpletely, to surrender myself, to look at him forfort.


    My eyes burn.


    Why would he say such terrible things to me?


    Hardly realizing where I¡¯m going, I bump into someone. A woman, from a brief look at her long blonde hair. She¡¯s dressed in a wool coat.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± I whisper into the air, not even bothering to meet her gaze. I know it¡¯s rude, but I don¡¯t fucking care. There¡¯s a lot on my mind. Still, I nce over my shoulder to look at a young, pretty face that I recognize. A face that makes my skin ice-cold.


    ¡°Mnie.¡±


    She grabs my shoulders before I can twist away, and surprisingly, she pulls me into a hug.


    ¡°Where have you been? I¡¯ve been so worried.¡±


    Her voice cracks as she holds me to her chest. My arms are pinned to my sides as Michelle hugs me, difort billowing inside my head until I finally ce both palms on her shoulders and shove her-hard.


    Michelle falls backward with a cry andnds hard on the sidewalk, the dirty snow melting into her wool coat.


    ¡°Don¡¯t touch me.¡±


    She springs to her feet, a hurt look souring her face. ¡°Mnie, I¡¯m so sorry for what happened at the motel-I know you were taken-¡±


    ¡°You were more worried about your career than you were about me. You¡¯re so full of shit.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not true. I was trying to help you.¡±


    ¡°Help me?¡± I repeat in outrage. ¡°You better get away from me before I smash my fist into your mouth.¡±


    Looking taken aback, she raises her palms. ¡°Mnie, you need toe in.¡±


    I turn my back on her. ¡°I¡¯ll talk to one of them, not you, and they need toe to my house. I¡¯m not going anywhere.¡±


    I¡¯m exhausted and fed up with being dragged to ces I have no desire to be. My feet climb the steps of my brownstone, a worried Michelle hanging nearby.


    ¡°It¡¯s not safe for you here.¡±


    I ignore her as I unlock the door to my house and step inside, mming it shut on her face. The door rattles with her knocking as I remove my boots. The bitch can stand in the snow for eternity, for all I care.


    The apartment looks just how I left it. An abandoned coffee mug sits on the counter, still half filled with the dark liquid. My feet move soundlessly to my bedroom, once a ce I felt safe. The sheets are still tousled from restless sleep, and it urs to me that since I¡¯ve been with Tommy, I¡¯ve never slept so well. Standing in the too-small bedroom feels wrong. This ce doesn¡¯t feel like home anymore.


    A harder series of knocks jars me from my thoughts.


    ¡°FBI! Open the door, Ms. Ronaldo.¡±


    I recognize the voice of Agent Palmer, the balding man who intimidated me into talking to them-ruining my life in the process. Calm stills my limbs.


    There¡¯s something about Tommy¡¯s kidnapping that made me impervious to all other threats. When your life is on the line, little else matters. They don¡¯t scare me anymore.


    I yank open the door and see them standing in the snow, waiting for me to invite them in.


    ¡°All of you cane in except her.¡± I point at Michelle, who swallows hard.


    He looks behind him. ¡°Maybe she can stand in the hallway just to get out of the cold.¡±


    My hand reaches for the door again, already closing it.


    ¡°All right.¡±


    Michelle, or Agent Spencer, descends the steps and stands on the sidewalk, shooting me unhappy looks as she shivers in her nylons.


    Fuck her.


    The rest of them file inside and I shut the door, heading toward the kitchen.


    Now what? Do I do what Tommy wants me to do?


    The thought of leaving New York just makes me feel dead. I was willing to do it before to survive. Surviving isn¡¯t enough for me anymore. He tempted me with a life I could¡¯ve had, in the apartment I always dreamed of.


    What¡¯s the use if you¡¯re dead?


    ¡°Ms. Ronaldo, we have questions. You disappeared from the motel and we know Tommy O¡¯Sullivan had you kidnapped.¡±


    My eyes fall to the grain of the wood on the table. I trace it with my eyes as if the long lines will lead me to an answer. Is there even a possibility of staying with him?


    I¡¯ll do whatever it takes-go into hiding.


    ¡°Not true, actually. I left on my own.¡± I sit down at the table, enjoying the frustration burning his face. ¡°Then I went to my boyfriend¡¯s house. You might know him-Tommy O¡¯Sullivan.¡±


    ¡°Ms. Ronaldo, if they¡¯ve intimidated you-¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t been intimidated by them. You¡¯re the ones who intimidated me into making a shitty deal.¡±


    ¡°A shitty deal? The Witness Protection Program has an extremely high sess rate. You¡¯ll be able to live your life-¡±


    ¡°On some farm in Wyoming under a new identity. I¡¯m not going to do it. I¡¯m not going to give up my identity.¡±


    He grins. ¡°You don¡¯t really have a choice at this point.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not testifying.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    His whole demeanor shifts as he stands over me, suddenly threatening.


    ¡°I hope you enjoy jail, Ms. Ronaldo, because that¡¯s where you¡¯re going if you don¡¯t cooperate.¡±


    The air around him crackles with electricity, but I have just as much anger burning in my chest. ¡°I¡¯m not testifying and I¡¯m not going to jail. You bullied me into that decision when I didn¡¯t have awyer present.¡±


    ¡°What about your parents?¡± he sneers. ¡°Don¡¯t you care about them?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s their club, not mine. Surely you must be aware of that?¡±


    He ms his fist on the table. The other agents jump at the noise. ¡°You made an agreement with us, Ms. Ronaldo. You can¡¯t take back the things you¡¯ve already told us.¡±


    ¡°Actually, I can. I¡¯m retracting my testimony on the grounds that I felt intimidated while I was being questioned. Mywyer will contact you with the details.¡±


    ¡°They obviously got to her. We¡¯re wasting our time here,¡± one of them says near his elbow as he leans over the table, a snarl on his face.


    ¡°Fine. You probably won¡¯tst the weekend. Your parents, too.¡±


    I clench my shaking hands under the table.


    ¡°I¡¯m d we coulde to an understanding, now get the fuck out of my house.¡±


    With a miserable look on his face, he stands up from the table and walks toward the door. The federal RICO case just lost its key witness.


    When they leave the house, the silence reminds me of how alone I really am. My hand slips into my pocket, finding my phone there. The screen lights up and I scroll through my list of contacts, even though I never got Tommy¡¯s number. I want to tell him what happened. I want him to rush over to my house and whisk me away.


    I stumble to my bedroom, knowing that every second I stay in this house gives them more time toe after me, but I can¡¯t bring myself to give a shit. Then I burrow under my covers, giving in to a dreamless sleep.

 4-29

    ¡°Mnie!¡±


    My eyes flicker open.


    ¡°Mnie, are you home?¡±


    A deeper voice calls out my name and a pair of footsteps frantically moves around the house, looking for me. I pull the sheets down, still caught in that confused fog of sleep. My mom appears at my doorway, clutching her chest as she stares down at me.


    ¡°She¡¯s here!¡± In tears, she hurries to my side and ces a hand on my head. ¡°Baby, are you all right?¡±


    No. Not really.


    Rousing myself, I sit upright and look at them both. ¡°Mom, Dad, we can¡¯t stay here.¡±


    ¡°Mnie, what happened? The FBI agents wouldn¡¯t tell us why they were bringing us back.¡±Exclusive ? material by N?(/v)elDrama.Org.


    Dad¡¯s frantic voice makes me feel a twinge of guilt. ¡°It¡¯s a long story.¡±


    ¡°They took you from the motel, didn¡¯t they? Those fucking bastards-¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not testifying against them anymore.¡±


    I quail under the look on his face.


    ¡°You what? Mnie, you don¡¯t have a choice!¡±


    ¡°Yes, I do!¡± In a fury, I don¡¯t even care that my voice probably carries through the thin walls. I stand to my feet, pointing at his chest. ¡°You made me feel like I never had a choice. I gave up my dreams to help you do something I hated. I can¡¯t do it anymore, Dad. I¡¯m not leaving New York.¡±


    Mom clutches her purse to her chest. ¡°But, sweetie-¡±


    ¡°No. I need to live my own life. This is my decision.¡±


    Grabbing an empty bag, I yank clothes from my hangers, stuffing everything inside in a rage as they stare down at me. ¡°You both need to leave this house. Find a motel and don¡¯t use your real names. I¡¯m leaving.¡±


    Having no idea what time it is, I nce at my watch. Nine a. m. I ignore their sputteringints as I shoulder my bag and head out the front door. On the way out, I catch a nce of my father¡¯s defeated face and a sob shakes from my throat. They¡¯re my parents, and I love them, but I need to have my own life.


    Even if it makes me feel like a selfish bitch.


    Outside, a gust of wind blows into my jacket and I shiver all over, and wonder where the hell I¡¯m going to go. There¡¯s only one ce I can think of, but he told me to leave. For my own good, he said. I was better off without him. Said he nned to end my life the whole time. It cut me deep when he admitted that. Part of me hoped he was telling the truth, but I knew it all along, really.


    And the fucked-up part is that I¡¯ve already forgiven him.


    You deserve to follow your dreams without someone like me in your life.


    My eyes sting with tears when I think of how earnest his voice was. He meant it, unlike the other people in my life who expected me to follow the choices already made for me. He wanted me to be free of him.


    That¡¯s why he wanted to hurt me. To make me go away.


    Well, he doesn¡¯t get to make that choice.


    I¡¯ll break down his door if I have to.


    I descend the stairs to the metro, taking it all the way to West Vige. My spirits lift as I climb out of the subway, spotting his house down the road. I slip on the stairs and grab the railing, hauling myself to the top. Then I hammer on his door. The heavy knocks rattle the door and I inhale my breath, waiting for him to wrench open the door with a scowl on his face.


    Several minutes pass and I blow freezing air through my nose. There¡¯s nothing but the distant sound of traffic rumbling through the streets. I knock again, making sure to hammer the door.


    Still nothing.


    So he isn¡¯t even fucking here. I nce at my phone uselessly because I don¡¯t even have his number. A swell of disappointment rises in my chest and I move away from the door to descend the steps. The snow crunches under my feet as I weigh my options, scrolling down my list of contacts. Working full-time at the club meant very few opportunities to make friends, except for Michelle, who turned out to be only interested in my friendship so that she could screw me over.


    Nice, eh?


    I suppose I could use the meager amount in my savings ount to get a hotel somewhere. Home is out of the question. I mull it over in my head as a car pulls up the side of the road, and I instinctually move away from the curb. An electronic sound of the window rolling down makes me tense all over-I expect that some jerk is going to scream something obscene to me.


    ¡°Miss, could you tell me where Christopher Street is?¡±


    I stop in my tracks, looking at the man¡¯s friendly smile through the window, and I approach the window. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s just-¡±


    I point down the road, turning my head, and suddenly arge force tackles my side. My scream hardly lifts to the icy air before a gloved hand mps firmly over my lips.


    It¡¯s just like what happened at the motel, except I don¡¯t recognize the man wrestling with me. My elbows jut out like sharp weapons, and I m them repeatedly into his chest. It¡¯s like a brick wall. My blows nce off and he wraps an arm around me, pinning me down. The hand around my mouth slowly suffocates me, and my eyes wildly search the whiteness.


    Someone help me!


    The car door opens and I twist violently in his grasp. For a moment there¡¯s only the sound of my suffocating breaths and his grunts.


    ¡°Hold the fuck still.¡±


    He lets go of my mouth long enough for me to inhale a chestful of air, and once again he muffles my scream. I stumble forward and then I¡¯m thrown bodily into the van. My scream rebounds in the van as I reach for the door, finding it hopelessly locked.


    ¡°NO!¡±


    ¡°Shut the fuck up!¡±


    A fist ms against the side of my face, crunching my bones and jarring my head. I drop like a stone, clutching my head as the door ms shut and the car lurches forward.


    No, I can¡¯t just give up. They¡¯ll kill me. They got what they wanted from me, and they¡¯ll have no qualms about killing me.


    My fingers tear at his hair and Iunch my body forward, hand reaching for the door.


    ¡°Fucking cunt!¡±


    ¡°Get her under control!¡±


    He knees my stomach, knocking the wind right out of my lungs. It¡¯s a hard, swift blow that jars every organ inside me. The ache spreads and I retch from the pain. My screams cut off into a deep, shuddering moan as I wrap my arm around my stomach, rolling on the floor.


    I just can¡¯t. I couldn¡¯t escape Tommy. I sure as hell won¡¯t be able to escape them.


    Tommy. I wonder where he is, if he even realizes what¡¯s happening to me.


    Against my will, because I don¡¯t want these bastards to see me crying, tears slide down my cheek into the abrasive carpet of the floor. My jaw already swells with the blow he gave me, which radiates pain into my skull. Too soon, the car stops in some darkened alley and adrenaline sears through my veins like liquid caffeine.


    He grabs my arms, twisting them behind me as someone opens the doors. His foul hand ps over my lips. I see a burst of blue sky and white clouds, and I wonder if it¡¯ll be thest time I see sunshine and blue skies. The beauty of it brings tears to my eyes, and suddenly all the things I took for granted mean everything. The smell of fresh air, all the colors of the day, and even the taste of Tommy¡¯s lips. I wrestle madly in his grip, escaping for a moment to scream, but then another one grips my jaw shut, and my teeth bite into my tongue. Blood swirls in my mouth, the metallic taste making me gag.


    A door shrieks open and a pair of hands shove my back. The world spins around me as I trip over the threshold and copse on the floor. I¡¯m in a room with concrete floors-a pool table sits in front of me. There are desks and chairs, a refrigerator, and a handful of men whose faces blur together as my eyes search for an escape-something to defend myself. The door ms shut and I flinch at the sound, looking around wildly at the two men who abducted me. Standing in the back, looking at me with his jaw dropped, is Tommy.


    He wears a midnight-blue suit, his face unshaven and a pinched look around his eyes as if he slept badly. The sight of him brings relief so strong that I can¡¯t hold back the emotion building up behind my eyes and his name rips out of me with a strangled cry.


    ¡°Tommy!¡±


    I cry in relief when he takes several strides toward me, but one of them, a skinny, young boy, blocks his path. He was the driver.


    ¡°We brought her for Jack, not you.¡±


    Tommy doesn¡¯t say a word. He just takes the scruff of the boy¡¯s neck and hurls him headfirst into the edge of the pool table. Screams of outrage fill the air as he ms the man¡¯s face into the sharp corner of the wood again and again. Blood sprays over the table and a sickening crack splits the air. The man screams, clutching his face as Tommy lets him drop to the floor. The other one attempts to rush him, and suddenly Tommy pulls a pistol from his jacket. Deafening blows crack from his gun, exploding into the man¡¯s chest. I scream at the noise and back away from the table as the men in the room instantly grab their guns, drawing them at Tommy.


    Holy shit!


    He lowers his smoking gun as the man falls to ground, dead. A stupid, faintly surprised look is frozen over his face as blood silently spills over the concrete. The other young man lets out loud wails. Everyone stares at Tommy, too shocked to speak, until he turns toward Jack, who clenches the edge of the table.


    ¡°What the fuck is this?¡± Tommy snarls.


    ¡°They weren¡¯t supposed to bring her here-fucking morons.¡±


    I¡¯m appalled by hisck of concern over the dead man on the floor. Jesus Christ.


    Jack steps around the pool table. ¡°Tommy, listen to me-¡±


    ¡°No, you fucking listen. You went behind my fucking back like a coward, after she gave you what you wanted.¡±


    ¡°She was never going to live, you fucking asshole.¡±


    He raises his arm, his voice dripping with that deadly calm. ¡°Then I guess I¡¯ll shoot you right in the fucking head.¡±


    My heart ms against my chest. Is he crazy? There¡¯s no way he can win a gunfight against all these men, unless he¡¯s nning on going out in a ze of glory.


    Suddenly Vince approaches the table, his face nched. ¡°Everybody just calm down-¡±


    Tommy¡¯s handsome face twists with rage at the word. ¡°I¡¯ve never been appreciated by any of you fucking jerks. I saved all your asses, and this is how you repay me?¡±


    ¡°Jack, I don¡¯t have a problem with letting the girl live,¡± Vince says quickly, cing a hand on the boss¡¯s shoulder. ¡°He¡¯s done a lot for us.¡±


    The man¡¯s tortured moans slightly distract Tommy. He flicks his head toward the man twisting on the floor with the air of an elephant ridding himself of a fly.


    ¡°You¡¯re not off the hook yet,¡± he snarls at Vincent. ¡°She still hired that FBI twat who has evidence linking the coke dealing to all of you!¡±


    ¡°None of us saw thating.¡±


    ¡°We do not let rats live, how many fucking times do I have to exin that to you?¡± Jack shrugs the hand off his shoulder. ¡°That¡¯s why you¡¯ll never be made, Tommy. You¡¯re too weak-¡±


    Another series of gunshots ring in the small room as Tommy fires at the man clutching his head on the floor, making the others draw their weapons. He doesn¡¯t even scream as the bullets rip through his back. The man¡¯s body jumps slightly with the gunshots and then he stops moving.


    Oh my God.


    Jack¡¯s apoplectic scream cuts through the ringing echoes. ¡°Fucking psycho!¡±


    The others aim their guns at Tommy, who looks supremely unconcerned.


    ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll leave this crew and take my talents elsewhere,¡± he says with a threat in his voice. ¡°I hear Johnny in Montreal opens the books for non-Italians all the time. I¡¯ll fucking do it, and you assholes will be without your highest earner.¡±


    ¡°Jack,¡± Vince hisses, his dark face lit with frustration. ¡°We need him.¡±


    The older man whirls on him, grabbing him by hispels and pping him hard against his face. ¡°Are you the fucking boss? No? Then shut the fuck up!¡±


    Vince hardens as a red mark blossoms on his cheek. A threatening leer painfully spreads across his face and I can almost see him lunging at Jack, but he carefully keeps himself still. The others look pale and confused, unsure of what to do.


    Suddenly I feel a gentle arm around my waist and I stand up into Tommy¡¯s arms. I hear his shaking breaths behind my ear. Taking advantage of their indecision, he leads me to the door.


    ¡°I¡¯ll let you leave with her for now, but this isn¡¯t over.¡±


    Jack¡¯s cold voice rings in my ears long after we step outside. I¡¯m still in a state of shock when Tommy opens the car door for me, his face flushed with cold. The gunshots still pound in my ears, and I suddenly realize that I¡¯ve witnessed two deaths.


    ¡°Tommy-what just happened?¡±


    He takes a shuddering breath, the first sign of weakness he¡¯s shown since I saw him. ¡°Get inside.¡±


    My body obeys hismand before I can process his request, and I sink down in the seat, staring at my shaking hands but not feeling any of the terror. What¡¯s happening to me? I don¡¯t even feel the leather beneath my legs. A muffled sound barks at my ear, over and over, until finally-


    He seizes my hand in his, squeezing hard enough that my knuckles protest in pain. The heat of his hand wraps around my skin and I feel it-I feel everything.


    ¡°They were going to kill me-they were-¡±


    He pulls me into his chest briefly. ¡°It¡¯s okay, hon. You¡¯re safe.¡±


    ¡°How can you say that?¡± I ask, blinded with tears. ¡°He just said that it wasn¡¯t over.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± He pulls away with a violent look on his face, wrenching the gear in reverse as he starts the car.


    I can¡¯t keep my eyes off him the entire drive, wondering how he can look so calm when his boss just promised to kill us both.


    Suddenly a car cuts us off and Tommy screams a stream of expletives as heys on the horn. ¡°Motherfucking, cock-sucking piece of shit. Learn how to fucking drive!¡± A vein bulges from the side of his neck, and I¡¯m afraid to look at him.


    My hands swallow my battered face as I bite into my lip, trying to stifle the sounds shaking from my chest. His handys on my upper back, stroking my skin back and forth as he lets out a long sigh.


    ¡°Just hang in there. We¡¯re almost home.¡±


    Home.


    Does he mean it?


    I don¡¯t feel safe until I¡¯ve stepped into the warmth of Tommy¡¯s apartment. Immediately he wraps his hands around my face, abandoning the calm pretense. I hiss from the painful contact.


    The rawness in his voice surprises me. ¡°Mnie, I¡¯m so sorry. I was a fucking moron for letting you go like that.¡±

 4-30

    ¡°I-I came to your house. I wanted toe back to you. That¡¯s how they found me.¡±


    He pulls me into his chest, his long arms wrapping around me as sobs rack through my chest. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t havee back,¡± he sighs.


    No, I shouldn¡¯t have. Now Tommy and I are going to die, all because I didn¡¯t listen to him.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, this is all my fault-¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he says in a hard voice. ¡°It¡¯s mine. I thought you would make a deal with the feds.¡±


    ¡°I-I couldn¡¯t.¡±


    He pulls back from me, and the smile on his face trembles. ¡°You must have a death wish.¡±


    Even so, I feel so much better in his arms. This is where I¡¯m supposed to be, I¡¯m sure of it.


    ¡°Sometimes I think that, too.¡±


    ¡°Why couldn¡¯t you just leave town and find a normal man who doesn¡¯t have this shit in his life, huh?¡±


    The ease with which he¡¯s willing to push me away hurts me. It¡¯s like a hot needle impaled in my chest.


    ¡°You don¡¯t think I second-guess myself? That I wonder if I¡¯m going insane?¡±


    His face softens. ¡°Then why do this? Why be with me?¡±


    The air shakes through my chest. ¡°I love you, Tommy. I couldn¡¯t just leave you.¡±


    The pain of leaving him strikes my chest suddenly, the needle bing a knife. The edges burn into my flesh, even worse when he gives me that sad look.


    Soft lips gather my mouth in his, a barely held back hunger burning from his skin. I lean into him as his tongue gently brushes over my bottom lip. Heat spreads over my skin like the sudden flush of alcohol, and he trails his fingers down my arms, kissing the tender spots on my face and holding me close to him.


    ¡°No one¡¯s ever said that to me before-not even my own mother.¡± He breaks off for a moment, gazing into the distance. ¡°I don¡¯t know what love is.¡±


    His attention turns back to me as I slowly dete. Rough hands slip under my shirt, teasing around my back. ¡°I always thought that the part of people that felt love and affection was just missing in me. Everything was just stripped away when I was so young, and after that there was nothing but rage.¡±


    My insides boil when I think of Jack, mentoring a young Tommy to maim his victims. Slimy piece of shit. I take his cheek in my hand, gazing up into his deadened eyes.This is property ? of N?velDrama.Org.


    ¡°You are capable. You¡¯re a good person-¡±


    Hisughter rings down the hallway as he shakes his head. ¡°I¡¯m not, Mnie. Don¡¯t make any fantasies about me. I¡¯ll always be a rotten bastard, and that¡¯s okay. I¡¯ve made my peace with it.¡± The humor disappears from his face. ¡°All I know is that when I saw them hurt you, they had to die. I¡¯ve never done that for anyone.¡±


    A smallugh shakes out of my lips, warming the chill he gave me. ¡°Well, I think threatening to kill a boss of the family for me means something.¡±


    He gives me a humorless smile. ¡°It wasn¡¯t a threat.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s going to send some guys to kill us. Probably soon.¡±


    My heart ms against my chest as I hear his calm, detached voice. ¡°So what the hell are we waiting here for?¡±


    He lifts his shoulder in a shrug. ¡°They¡¯ll find us no matter where we run, sweetie.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re giving up?¡± I ask with an edge in my voice.


    ¡°Like hell. I¡¯m going to kill the bastard first.¡±


    Kill a boss?


    I thought that was unforgivable. Admittedly my knowledge of the Mafia extends to Godfather I and II, but I thought that it was impossible to kill a boss-and stay alive.


    ¡°How exactly-?¡±


    I squeal when he lifts the shirt from my head in one swift motion, his hands suddenly twisting at the bra sp behind me. Cold, I cover myself and stare at his grinning face, wondering if he really has snapped. Maybe I shouldn¡¯t trust him so easily.


    He yanks down the bra straps, raising an eyebrow when I continue to cover myself. That devious look is back on his face, the monster desperate for y. I back against the wall as he corners me, running his hand down my arms.


    ¡°I owe you an apology, sweetheart.¡±


    The gritty voice hissing over my ear hardly sounds forgiving.


    ¡°I should have never let you think that I was capable of letting you go. I can¡¯t. It¡¯s not in my nature to be selfless.¡±


    His fingers send heat all over my skin, but I can¡¯t be distracted from imminent death. ¡°How are you going to do this? Why can¡¯t we just run?¡±


    ¡°Run?¡± He frowns as if the idea never urred to him. ¡°I¡¯m no coward. Besides, this isn¡¯t something you can run from.¡±


    His hands then grope my tits, slowly fondling the flesh. The devilish smile spreads into dimples. He knows how much this affects me. ¡°But-hold on-shouldn¡¯t we?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been way too soft on you,¡± he groans in a voice that makes the hairs on my back stand to attention. The fist in my hair suddenly clenches and I wince as he pulls my head back. ¡°I¡¯m in charge-not you. I¡¯ll make the decisions.¡±


    ¡°I get a say in the decisions.¡± I grit my teeth.


    Suddenly his face darkens. ¡°Do you love me?¡±


    My insides flutter. ¡°Yes, I do.¡±


    A small smile crosses his face, and he cks the grip on my hair, tracing my bottom lip with a faraway look in his eyes. ¡°I would never ask you to do anything like what I¡¯m doing for you now.¡±


    My cheeks burn. ¡°I know-I still can¡¯t believe what you did.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not trying to make you feel guilty. I have no regrets.¡±


    I don¡¯t see how that¡¯s possible. My chest swells with a leaping feeling, a smile twitching on my face.


    He loves me. He must.


    ¡°Would you do anything for me? Anything to keep me safe?¡±


    Puzzled, I return his solemn gaze. ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Then you¡¯ll do as I say for both our sakes.¡±

 4-31

    TOMMY


    Underneath the Brooklyn Bridge is a convenient spot to have a private conversation. It¡¯s deserted, quiet, and the cops don¡¯t monitor it. A cold breeze suddenly sts through our coats, riding over the icy water. Nichs, a short, stocky man who¡¯s one of the most reliable men in my crew, doesn¡¯t even bother bunching his coat together. He stares at me with a ck-jawed expression.


    ¡°You want me to help you whack a boss.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    I bounce on my feet, as if propositions to kill bosses happen all the time.


    ¡°You¡¯re fuckin¡¯ crazy.¡±


    My eyes narrow dangerously at that assessment. ¡°He left me with no choice. That doesn¡¯t make me crazy.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t even know if he¡¯s gunning for you.¡±


    True, I had a hard time believing he woulde after me, given our history and everything I¡¯ve done for him, but it would be a mistake for him if he didn¡¯t. A stroke of guilt wipes the smile from my face. Is this what I¡¯vee to?


    Killing the very man who gave me this life?


    ¡°There¡¯s a lot of money in it for you.¡±


    ¡°No fucking way.¡±


    Bitter disappointment roils in my stomach as he turns his back on me and walks away.


    ¡°Fine, then I guess you¡¯ll have to find some other way to pay for your wife¡¯s cancer treatments.¡±


    He pauses for a moment, but shakes his head and continues to his car.


    So much for him.


    I sigh heavily and trudge up the hill to my car. Once I¡¯m inside, I m the door shut and grasp the wheel.


    It¡¯ll be a hard sell for the other guys. Whacking a boss makes you enemies you¡¯ll probably never get rid of, unless the old crew ispletely wiped out. The other families won¡¯t like it-might send guys to avenge Jack, and then I¡¯m stuck with the same fucking problem.


    No, I need to give them a reason to want to get rid of Jack. How could I fucking do that?


    Mnie shrinks in the passenger seat, her lips white as she sucks in her bottom lip. Her ck curls contrast beautifully with her pale skin, and when her teeth release her lip, a bright-red color rushes into them. I reach out and touch her face, feeling a small tug in my chest when she sighs into my hand. I know she doesn¡¯t want to be here, but after what happened before I¡¯m not letting her out of my sight.


    ¡°Any luck?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    A shaking sigh expels from her lips, almost as if she¡¯s relieved. I can¡¯t believe what a bleeding heart she is.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to do this,¡± she says for the millionth time.


    ¡°Unfortunately, I do.¡± I stroke a finger over her bottom lip and a pretty pink color fills her cheeks.


    ¡°This is just insane!¡±


    ¡°I can understand why an outsider would feel that way, but trust me. This is how it is.¡± Resentment boils in my stomach and my voice drops down to a hush. ¡°He did it behind my back, after I asked him not to-after everything I¡¯ve fucking done for him, and I¡¯ve stepped way over the line by killing those guys at the deli. He¡¯sing after me. I don¡¯t know how or when, but he is.¡±


    ¡°But how do you expect to do this?¡± she asks me in a high voice. ¡°When everyone¡¯s on his side?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have a choice.¡±


    She stares ahead as her eyes slowly fill with tears, and I feel a rush of affection for her. She¡¯s held it together remarkably well, considering everything she has been through.


    ¡°Tommy, just let me go to him.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I figure I must¡¯ve heard wrong.


    ¡°Just take me to Jack.¡±


    Tears slip down her face. Two of them drop from her cheek and run down my hands. My stomach feels suddenly empty.


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°But it¡¯s hopeless-¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not. Baby, you need to calm down.¡±


    Her voice turns shrill. ¡°How can I calm down when your life is in danger, too?¡±


    I stroke her incredibly soft hair and wonder how the hell I got this woman to give a flying fuck about my life. ¡°I¡¯d rather die than give that fucking asshole what he wants. Mnie, he tried to take you from me. You really think I can let that go? Just walk away and never think about it again, no problem?¡± My hand falls from her face and I sit back, shaking my head. ¡°God help anyone who tries to take you away from me.¡±


    ¡°But what if you get killed because of me? How am I supposed to live with that?¡±


    I don¡¯t point out that if I¡¯m dead, she¡¯s probably fucked. ¡°I¡¯m not giving you up, Mnie, so stop mentioning it.¡±


    It just upsets me.


    She gives me a watery smile. ¡°I love you.¡±


    A thrill that I¡¯ve never known before shoots up my spine, burying somewhere in my chest whenever she says those words. In the past, I would have never done all this for some broad, no matter what she looked like. The man I was would have put a bullet in her head, or strangled her with a garroting wire, and been done with it. If it were anyone else, I would have followed Jack¡¯s orders and be made. My life would beplete. That desire still exists inside me, but just the idea of her death makes me inwardly recoil. My very being rejects it, like an act against my nature, except I¡¯ve murdered countless men for Jack and never lost a night of sleep over it. Why now?


    That must be love, right?


    A fluttering, weak feeling fills my stomach when she leans over and kisses me. My hand buries in her hair and I feel lost in the smell of her shampoo, the softness of her lips, and the little moans she makes. I know this isn¡¯t the time, but I just want to drag her in the backseat of my car and fuck her until she screams.


    Shattering ss springs us apart. The noise makes Mnie lift her head in confusion, and for one heart-stopping moment I think about how exposed she is. It all happens in an instant. I shove her head down and take cover behind the dash to grab my gun as ss shatters over our heads.


    Fuck.


    Still ducking, I start the car as gunshots zip through the windshield and shift it in drive as Mnie¡¯s screams stab my ears. It¡¯s too risky to risk raising my head and getting it blown off, so I gun the engine and move the wheel toward the angle of the shots. A male scream mingles with Mnie¡¯s voice, and then a heavy object clips the side of my car and the wheels roll over something that resembles a log. I check the side-view mirror and see a man sprawled on the pavement, his gun a few feet away.


    I m the car to a halt and wrench the parking brake, not sparing a second to get out of the car and make sure the motherfucker dies. He¡¯s an older man, his cracked sses lying next to his head as his mouth gapes soundlessly. His ribs are probably broken and they punctured his lung, and I feel a savage triumph for the amount of pain he must be in. It¡¯s Paulie, one of Jack¡¯s captains.


    Oh well.


    My gun rises to his temple. What I¡¯d like is to bring him home with me and make him scream, but there¡¯s no time to y. Crack, crack. Crack, crack. The gunshots split the cold air. Two m his head back, and two more bury inside his chest.


    Bye, Paulie. I never really cared for you, anyway.N?vel(D)ra/ma.Org exclusive ? material.


    I watch him die-really it¡¯s an instant death, so I¡¯m just watching his blood stain the pavement. My heart pounds against my ribs, flooding my veins with fire that radiates outward like an oven.


    Fuck you, Jack. We are done. We are finally fucking done.

 4-32

    Mnie stays silent as I weave through streets where Jack frequents. His home is out of the question-there is undoubtedly a guard waiting for my ass to swing by. She asks me what my n is, and I don¡¯t have an answer. It¡¯s not enough to kill Jack. The others wille after me just the same.


    I need them on board.


    How, though?


    I switched the car out with another one using my contact at the chop shop. He never asks many questions, and I need a car that the others won¡¯t recognize. He gave me a 2000 Ford Mustang. Totally not my style, but it¡¯ll do.


    Finally I find the motherfucker sitting outside the deli. My deli. Where I personally butchered dozens of people. It makes my skin tingle to be so close to him. More than anything, I want to gun his ass down in the street. Fucking piece of shit.


    We stay there for hours, Mnie not saying a word. I think she¡¯s afraid that they¡¯ll hear her all the way down the block. Finally Jack gets in his car and drives away. I decide to follow him for a while.


    Two blocks behind. I always stay at least two blocks behind my target. I follow him past the Brooklyn Bridge and Queens. I¡¯m almost certain he¡¯s heading back to his house, but then he takes the 295 up toward the Bronx.


    ¡°What the fuck?¡±


    It¡¯s almost as if he knows he¡¯s being followed. We drive way out of New York City proper, passing Yonkers, then White ins. Jesus. As far as I know, we don¡¯t have any people in this area. In Valha, a dreary suburban town, he finally takes an exit and turns into the parking lot of some shitty-looking cafe. I drive right past it.


    ¡°Where are you going?¡± she hisses, looking over her shoulder.


    ¡°I¡¯ll double back.¡±


    I don¡¯t want to take any chances raising Jack¡¯s suspicions, and I¡¯m really curious about why he¡¯d travel so far just to get a cup of coffee. Is he working with new guys in the area? Maybe he wants to hire a hit man?


    I have no idea. The car swerves around, and I enter the parking lot, pleased to see that Jack¡¯s car is empty. The engine cuts off and we¡¯re thrown intoplete silence. The car ticks as it cools down and Mnie tightens her jacket around her body as the heating vanishes. I scan the cafe for Jack, but he¡¯s nowhere near the windows.


    ¡°Fuck. We¡¯ll have to go inside.¡±


    ¡°And tip him off? Are you crazy?¡± she hisses under her breath.


    I feverishly search for Jack again, seized with an overpowering curiosity. Why the hell is he here? I know I should just get the fuck out of here, and wait until he¡¯s alone, but I can¡¯t help it. Then I see Jack moving against the ss, walking toward the back of the cafe. Luckily it¡¯s one of those big chain breakfast restaurants, and it¡¯s packed.


    ¡°Okay, let¡¯s go.¡± Heart pounding with excitement, I open the door and get out. She quickly follows suit and grabs my arm in a vise grip.


    ¡°This is insane.¡±


    I inhale a cold bellyful of air that stings my lungs. Maybe it is crazy, but I¡¯m already this far and I¡¯m out of ideas.


    ¡°Just act normal, babe. Act like you¡¯re just getting breakfast with your boyfriend.¡±


    From the way my arm is getting numb from theck of cirction because her hands are wrapped so tightly around me, I gather that it won¡¯t be that easy for her. I walk with her around my arm, and I have to admit that I¡¯mforted by her presence. The door opens for her, and she gives me a terrified look before walking through it.


    It¡¯s such a loud ce that my nerves quell almost instantly. As we approach the hostess stand, I scan the heads of patrons, searching for a white head of hair. Finally I spot him against a back wall to the right. He¡¯s surrounded by a couple other guys who I don¡¯t recognize.


    ¡°I know which table I¡¯d like,¡± I tell the young girl. I point in the direction and she nods.


    Now this is the tricky part. I¡¯m moving directly in Jack¡¯s line of sight, but he won¡¯t notice me unless I attract his attention. I take a seat in front of his table, at least three tables removed from his, my back facing him. Mnie¡¯s face whitens as she sits down, giving me a meaningful look.


    ¡°Coffee, please.¡±


    I strain my ears, trying to listen in on the conversation, but it¡¯s too hard to make out in the din. Mnie leans forward and her hand grips mine hard enough to make my knuckles ache. ¡°We need to leave now.¡±


    Her voice is so low that I can barely hear her. ¡°Not yet.¡±


    ¡°I recognize those men he¡¯s talking to.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I nearly give in to the temptation to look behind me, but instead I use a highly reflective piece ofminated paper to see a warped view of the man sitting next to Jack. He¡¯s bald and wears a somber expression.


    ¡°Agent Palmer. He¡¯s in the FBI. Tommy, they¡¯re going to recognize me-¡±


    The waitress returns with the coffee, and I don¡¯t hear what she says as the dark stream of liquid pours into a chipped white mug. Mnie leans back into her chair, allowing her hair to cover her face as waves and waves of shock crash over me.


    I wave off the waitress irritably, who huffs and stalks off without another word. ¡°Are you fucking sure?¡±


    Her lip curls. ¡°I talked to that man for hours. Of course I¡¯m sure!¡±


    I swallow hard, unable to believe that the man I looked up to my whole life, who had such a hard-on for the rules, was a worthless, cock-sucking rat. My hand dips into my pocket and I retrieve my phone, handing it to her. ¡°Take a photo.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Take the goddamn photo, and we¡¯ll get out of here. We need proof.¡±


    She looks away from my face, pretending to scroll through my phone as she nts both elbows on the table and takes a shot. At least she has the presence of mind to silence the phone, because I don¡¯t. Smartphones are the bane of organized crime, but for once I¡¯m grateful I never listened to Jack and got one of those ancient flip-open phones he wanted us to use. I just was never a moron and never discussed business on my phone.


    I hear her small intake of breath as she hands over the phone and I grab it roughly, scrolling through the pictures. Yeah, there are clear shots of each of them and Jack¡¯s face is clearly visible. I look into Mnie¡¯s eyes and know that she¡¯s telling me the truth. Why would she lie? Still, I need to find out for myself whether these fuckwads are really FBI. I need to know for sure.


    ¡°Can we get out of here, now?¡±


    Quickly I p a few bills on the vinyl table and I stand up, grabbing her arm. If she¡¯s right, I can¡¯t risk them recognizing her in this ce. I¡¯m so intent on getting the hell out of there that I don¡¯t even hear her whimpers of pain until she digs in her heels.


    ¡°You¡¯re hurting me.¡±


    The annoyance on her face melts away when I nce back with the heat of everything I just witnessed at the forefront of my brain. Her face dissolves into that subdued, shrinking look that I hate: fear. I¡¯m probably looking at her as if I want to kill her.


    ¡°Sorry.¡±


    A strained smile spreads across my lips and I let go of her, ignoring the chime of the hostess¡¯s, ¡°Have a great day!¡± to open the doors for her.


    ¡°Tommy,¡± she says once we¡¯re outside. ¡°What does this mean? Why is he meeting with the FBI?¡±


    I shake my head violently and press my fingers to my lips. Jesus Christ, there could be agents watching the door. They might¡¯ve already seen us.


    Fuck!


    We get inside the car and I peel out of there, gunning down the highway at probably unsafe speeds. I can¡¯t think. I just can¡¯t.


    ¡°Tommy! Answer me!¡±


    ¡°You better be fucking sure that those men are FBI agents,¡± I snarl at her. ¡°You better not be fucking mistaken-I¡¯m serious, Mnie.¡±


    She looks taken aback by my anger, and even I¡¯m confused. Why am I yelling at her? Why does my heart feel like it¡¯s going to burst?


    ¡°I¡¯m not mistaken. I¡¯m sure.¡±


    ¡°How sure?¡±


    ¡°One hundred percent! There is no doubt in my mind. There, is that good enough for you?¡±


    No, it¡¯s still not good enough.


    ¡°God-fucking-damnit!¡± I take the next exit and pull over at a gas station.


    I need to see it for myself. ¡°What¡¯s his name again?¡±


    ¡°Who?¡±


    I nearly scream. ¡°The FBI cocksucker you recognized.¡±


    ¡°Agent Eric Palmer.¡±


    I look his name up on my smartphone, the dull pounding of my heart increasing to a dizzying thud, but I can¡¯t find his name anywhere. Of course I fucking wouldn¡¯t. The FBI doesn¡¯t exactly have a LinkedIn page for this shit.


    Then, trembling, I attach the photo to a message to Vincent, sending it without ament. I turn the phone in my hands, Mnie focused on shredding her nails in sheer anxiety. My phone lights up immediately with Vincent¡¯s call and I put it on speakerphone.


    Vincent¡¯s hostile voice crackles through the speaker.


    ¡°Where the fuck did you get that, huh?¡±


    Forcing my voice into a state of calm, I raise the phone to my mouth. ¡°Just tell me if that¡¯s Agent Eric Palmer sitting next to him-¡±


    ¡°Yes, it is. They¡¯re all part of New York¡¯s Organized Crime Task Force.¡±


    There¡¯s a wall toppling over me. It¡¯s at least twenty feet high, and at the top, heavy cinders fall down and smash into my body.Exclusive ? material by N?(/v)elDrama.Org.


    ¡°Jesus Christ. JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!¡±


    Mnie jumps violently in her seat. My shaking hands almost drop the phone.


    ¡°You need to tell me exactly how you got those photos-now.¡±


    ¡°Vince-do you know what this means? That lying fuck¡¯s probably a protected FBI informant. After all that bullshit about family and honor-¡±


    ¡°HOW THE FUCK DID YOU GET THE PHOTOS?¡±


    ¡°I followed him myself to a diner in Valha. I took the goddamn photos.¡±


    For a few moments there¡¯s nothing but the sound of crackling static and Vince¡¯s shaking breaths. I know how he feels. He can¡¯t believe it. Neither can I.


    ¡°We need to talk. Can youe over to my ce?¡±


    The car echoes with myughter. ¡°So you can pop me? No thanks. I already took care of Paulie, and I¡¯d rather not have to kill you, too.¡±


    ¡°Tommy, I¡¯m not going to kill you in front of my wife.¡±


    I look at Mnie, who chews resolutely on her thumb. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll be there soon.¡±

 4-33

    Violent thoughts swirl in my head as I pound Vincent¡¯s apartment door, which opens quickly. Adriana, his wife, stands in the doorway, looking as white as a sheet. She brightens when she recognizes me.


    ¡°Tommy,e in.¡±


    ¡°Good to see you, Adriana.¡±


    I step inside Vincent¡¯s apartment, Mnie following quickly behind me. Adriana¡¯s face sours when she recognizes Mnie, the woman who ratted on her husband. I don¡¯t like the look she gives Mnie, but I let it slide. There are bigger fucking things going on in the world.


    Every muscle in my body tenses when I see Vince¡¯s silhouette down the hall, striding forward quickly. He looks like shit. The stress of being in a federal indictment seems to have taken a toll on Vince¡¯s health. Though his eyes look tired, the way he grabs mypels suggests that he would have no problem throwing me over his balcony.


    ¡°Vincent!¡± Adriana admonishes.


    ¡°When the fuck did you get those photos?¡±


    My back ms against the wall as he yells in my face, the girls screaming behind him. I look into his red-rimmed eyes. ¡°Today. Maybe ten minutes before I sent them to you. Mnie¡¯s the one who recognized them.¡±


    Vincent releases me and stumbles backward with the shocked stupor of someone who¡¯s just been shot. His face twisting in a grimace, he walks away from me to the gray couch sitting in his living room. Adriana follows, looking bewildered at her husband¡¯s sudden disy of emotion. He buries his face in his hands.


    ¡°Oh God.¡±


    The pain in his voice gives me a jolt of fear. He rocks back and forth, and I worry that he¡¯s snapped. Adriana sits down next to him and rubs his back, shooting me apprehensive looks.


    ¡°Vince, if he¡¯s a protected FBI informant-¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know shit!¡± he screams suddenly. ¡°You just saw him at a cafe. That doesn¡¯t prove anything!¡±N?velDrama.Org owns ? this.


    He lifts his red face from his hands to re at me.


    As annoyed as I am by his denial, I¡¯m not surprised. ¡°Then why the fuck would he drive all the way out to Valha? Wake up, Vince. He¡¯s a fucking rat.¡±


    Adriana¡¯s inhaled gasp distracts Vincent¡¯s attention. ¡°Are you talking about Jack?¡±


    ¡°Adriana, give us some privacy.¡±


    ¡°I will not.¡± She turns her terrified face to me. ¡°Tell me.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re talking about Jack.¡± I ignore Vince¡¯s sh of rage and keep talking. ¡°This exins why he got off so easily when you all got indicted in that RICO case. Christ, he could¡¯ve given us all up and we¡¯d have no idea.¡±


    He shakes his head, his eyes wider than ever. ¡°I can¡¯t believe it-I just can¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I agree. My insides rot as I think about all the times Jack pped me on my shoulder, congratting me on a job well done. ¡°The piece of shit is talking to the FBI, and I¡¯m not good enough to get made.¡±


    ¡°This isn¡¯t about you.¡±


    I lean over his coffee table, ignoring the twitch of anger inside me. ¡°No, it¡¯s about all of us. You know what needs to be done.¡±


    The reluctance in his gaze worries me.


    ¡°He might¡¯ve already given you up.¡±


    He hardens instantly. ¡°He wouldn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Vince, I just saw him talking to the feds. I would have never thought he¡¯d talk to the feds, but here we are.¡±


    ¡°Girls, would you please give us some privacy?¡± The tension in his voice seems to rouse his wife. She gets up immediately, heading toward Mnie, who still stands in the hall. They disappear into one of the rooms and then finally we¡¯re alone.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Tommy. I don¡¯t know if I can whack him.¡± His face crumples again and I think of how generous Jack was to me as a kid, how much I looked up to him.


    ¡°I can.¡±


    He attacked me without provocation, tried to kill the woman I asked him to spare, and didn¡¯t bat an eysh. I¡¯ll be d to kill him. Just get me in a room alone with him. Suddenly the desire to strap him to the table where he had me execute so many of his men overpowers me. I can almost taste his blood in my mouth. God, how ironic would that be?


    ¡°And then you¡¯ll be boss.¡±


    White fear shes over Vincent¡¯s face, and he seems frozen in ce. It never urred to me that Vincent might not want to be boss, might not want the headache thates with it.


    ¡°Tommy, if we actually go through with this-you can¡¯t stay in New York. Paulie is dead.¡±


    My chest burns. ¡°He shot me-what the fuck was I supposed to do? Roll over and let him kill me?¡±


    He looks pained. ¡°I owe you a lot, but that doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m willing to overlook the death of a made guy.¡±


    I stand up,ughing as my face burns with a rage so powerful, I¡¯m afraid that I¡¯ll use the gun strapped to my waist. ¡°I should have left you in the fucking dark.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re saving your ass just as much as you¡¯re saving mine. You wanted the girl, you got her-and all the consequences thate with her.¡±


    The bitter taste in my mouth is like ck coffee. Vince was the one guy I thought who had my back. It just feels like another blow.


    ¡°Help me with Jack, and I will personally see to it that Johnny epts you into his crew. He doesn¡¯t have to know what happened here. No one does.¡±


    Temptation sweetens the bitterness in my mouth. Montreal could be a good fit for me. I don¡¯t speak French, but supposedly it¡¯s a haven for the mob. There¡¯s less interference from the cops because so many of them are on the payroll, and there¡¯s lots of money to be made. Johnny has a vise grip over the city and nothing much gets by him.


    But I¡¯ll have to start all over.


    My gaze flicks toward the door where they disappeared. Mnie might need convincing to leave New York. Or maybe not, considering everything that¡¯s happened.


    ¡°All right.¡± I stick out my hand, and Vince grabs it tightly, neither of us blinking as we shake hands.


    ¡°Okay, I need to make some calls and figure out how the fuck we¡¯re going to do this.¡±


    The temporary truce between us makes me feel slightly more at ease, but I¡¯m worried about her-stuck in that room with that other woman. I stand up slowly and head toward the door as Vince makes calls. Then I knock on the door.


    ¡°Mel?¡±


    The door opens to a small nook containing a tiny lime-green couch and a desk. Adriana stands with her hands on her hips, and Mnie¡¯s face streams with tears. My chest tightens when I see her crying, and then Adriana tactfully leaves the room.


    ¡°We heard everything.¡±


    I click my tongue against the roof of my mouth, annoyed at the fact that Vince let his wife pick a room in earshot of us. Mnie bends into her hands, another desperate sob shaking from her chest. It¡¯s as if someone has just reached between my ribs and squeezed the fuck out of my heart. I sink down beside her and she buries her face in my chest, squeezing my back.


    ¡°Don¡¯t do it. Please, don¡¯t!¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe you¡¯re still defending him-¡±


    ¡°No!¡± she says in a raw voice. ¡°I¡¯m worried that you¡¯ll nevere back.¡±


    The emotion in her voice makes my throat constrict, and a wave of agony trembles through me. I hate myself for making her feel like this.


    ¡°Listen to me, Mnie. Just listen.¡± I dig my fingers in her hair, inhaling her flowery scent. ¡°I love you.¡±


    Her chest swells against mine and my eyes start to burn, but I keep them shut. I can¡¯t fall apart right now, but the pain in her gasps is so strong that I can feel it, too. It¡¯s ripping me apart.


    ¡°I promise you that I¡¯lle back.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t promise that.¡±


    ¡°I can do this, Mnie.¡± I pull back from her and give her the confident smile that she needs. ¡°It shouldn¡¯t be any harder than getting you to fall in love with me, right?¡±


    She reluctantly returns my smile, nodding as she takes a deep breath. ¡°I love you. Please-¡±


    Unable to stomach another desperate plea from her lips, I crush her mouth against mine. She responds passionately, nearly throwing me off the couch as she falls on top of me, ripping the buttons off my shirt. Damn, that¡¯s hot.


    A harsh series of knocks startles us both. ¡°Tommy, I don¡¯t want to know what you¡¯re doing in there, but get the fuck out.¡±


    Laughter shakes from my chest as I sit up with her on myp, and I think about that first time we were interrupted and how pissed off I was. A pink blush blooms over her cheeks and I know she¡¯s thinking about it, too. She helps me button up my shirt, and I¡¯m smiling until I catch her gaze, which is full of tears again.


    ¡°Go,¡± she forces through her lips. ¡°If you have to go, do it now.¡±


    ¡°I promise, Mnie. I¡¯lle back.¡±


    When I stand up and turn my back on her, I try to erase the haunting image of her tear-stained face from my mind.

 4-34

    We need to lure Jack to a ce we are certain isn¡¯t bugged by the feds. It¡¯s not that easy to deceive a boss as wily as Jack, but Vince has the strongest rapport with him. He¡¯s his fucking underboss. Everyone crowds his apartment-all of his captains are on board, even Nicky, who seems to have taken Jack¡¯s betrayal as a personal insult.


    ¡°When I get my hands on that motherfucking liar-¡±


    Vince stands at the center of it all, watching his phone for a response. I sigh to myself and turn toward the massive windows in his apartment overlooking Manhattan.


    ¡°What?¡±


    I turn around, crossing my arms as everyone falls silent. ¡°He knows that we¡¯re on to him. That¡¯s why he¡¯s not picking up the phone.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t we trace it?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s going straight to voicemail.¡± Vince lowers his arm, seething. ¡°Damn it, I want to get this done quickly.¡±


    Shit. None of us can afford to allow Jack to skip town, not while he knows as much as he does. ¡°We should get the word out on the street.¡±


    The air stills as all of us suddenly be aware that we¡¯re plotting the demise of the don, the strongest man of the hierarchy. Then I look at Vince curiously. He¡¯s acted as a boss figure for so long that all of the men epted the transition with hardly a hup, but he looks different to me now. It¡¯s strange.


    ¡°Get out there and find him.¡±


    Together we leave his apartment and return to our cars. I dig in my pocket for my keys as I feel a tap on my shoulder.


    ¡°Tommy, want to team up?¡±


    He looks reluctant to drive off by himself in search of the man who, after all, made all of us into what we are today. I nod my head and he joins me in the car. It roars beneath my feet and I look at Joe¡¯s impassive face.


    ¡°I have no idea where to look for him.¡±


    He speaks with that slow, calming cadence. ¡°He¡¯s probably in their protection by now.¡±


    ¡°Fuck.¡±


    I decide to head first to the deli. As unlikely as it is that he¡¯s there, I still feel determined to search every possible corner. We walk through the ce, even checking the freezers, but he¡¯s not there. It¡¯s one ce we can scratch off our list. I briefly debate visiting his home in the Hamptons, but I can¡¯t believe Jack would be stupid enough to be there.


    The city rolls by my windows, neither of us very hopeful as we check ce to ce. I even drive by his house, fighting every instinct I have not to. Nothing is there as far as I can tell. There¡¯s only one possible option I can think of.


    The old house where I kept Mnie.


    It¡¯s safe, secluded, plenty of ces to hide hired guns. They¡¯ll be able to see using. We drive for nearly half an hour until I reach it, parking a half mile down the road just as a precaution.


    ¡°This is fucking stupid. He won¡¯t be here.¡±


    ¡°You never know,¡± he keeps saying.


    We¡¯re fucking sitting ducks surrounded by all this white snow. We might as well have signs around our necks: Shoot me! We head for the tree line, tromping through snow, our breaths misting the air. Then I grab the binocrs in my pocket and train them on the windows. Jack wouldn¡¯t be dumb enough to sit near a window, which is too bad.


    It¡¯s dark inside the house, but my heart leaps when I see several forms shifting in front of the ss. ¡°There are people there.¡±


    Could be squatters.


    Or it could be him.


    Do I call Vincent and ask him toe here, even though it could be aplete waste of his time?


    I decide to sneak in from the back. There are huge piles of snow in that area, and fewer windows. Still, it¡¯s fucking dangerous.


    ¡°I need you to watch the windows with me while we¡¯re walking. If you see any movement, shoot.¡±


    He looks ufortable. ¡°We don¡¯t even know who we¡¯re shooting at.¡±


    ¡°Hey, if you want to take a chance, do it. But I sure as shit won¡¯t.¡±


    The more my legs freeze from the snow as we walk, the more I¡¯m convinced that this is a stupid idea. Jack won¡¯t havee here. Still, I keep my gun trained on those windows, wishing I brought a rifle with me-something good for long distance. At least we¡¯re moving under the cover of darkness, but the snow beneath us shines under the moonlight like powdered ss. It¡¯s beautiful, really.


    We stop every few yards to carefully cycle through each window and then we pick up our feet again. Monotonous.


    Joe turns his head. ¡°Do you think-?¡±


    I never hear what exactly Joe thinks. A loud bang blows a fist-sized chunk into the tree right next to Joe¡¯s head.


    ¡°Jesus!¡±


    We both dive for the cover of the tree, hissing as bullets zip past our heads. I dive into my pants for my phone and it slips right out, sinking into two feet of snow.


    ¡°FUCK!¡±


    Joe¡¯s on the phone already, screaming for Vince to get over here. His widened eyes tell me what I already know, that it doesn¡¯t matter if Vince leaves now. We¡¯ll both be dead long before he arrives. I look around for a better hiding spot, but there isn¡¯t one.


    ¡°Let¡¯s just go,¡± he says. ¡°We wait until he reloads and then we run as fucking fast as we can toward the house.¡±


    My heartbeat is so frantic that it sends dizzy spells to my head. ¡°Are you crazy? We¡¯re open season out here!¡±


    ¡°So what?¡±


    I wonder if he has a death wish when there¡¯s a brief lull in shooting, and he sprints in the house¡¯s direction without another word from me. Huge holes blow in the snow next to him. He¡¯s fucking crazy.


    And so am I.


    I take off after him, fully expecting to be gunned down, but the shots are wider and wider, and then we crash into the side of the house. We look into each other¡¯s wild faces, breathing hard. I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m alive.


    ¡°If you make it out of this and I don¡¯t, will you tell my wife-¡±


    ¡°Damn it, Joe. Don¡¯t start with that shit.¡±


    He nods and draws his gun across his chest. We sweep around the perimeter and decide to go in through the kitchen. Joe sends a huge rock flying through one of the windows and then we both charge inside, ducking behind the kitchen ind. Huge sts m into the wood, knocking chunks off. Shotguns. Fuck.


    Joe peers around the corner, firing as I reveal myself over the ind. The shooter¡¯s bulky form hides behind the kitchen counter. I hit him right in the side and he goes down, screaming.


    One down.


    We advance along the kitchen, our weapons sweeping every open room.


    ¡°I think they¡¯re all upstairs,¡± Joe says in a hushed voice.


    I¡¯m really reluctant to charge up the stairs where it¡¯s almost certain we¡¯ll be gunned down. I fire my gun into the man¡¯s chest, killing him instantly, and I kick him over with my foot. Dull red hair peeks from a cap on his head, and I smirk to myself at the irony. He hired the Irish to protect him.


    Fucking scumbag.


    Boots crack the wooden floorboards overhead, and I aim my gun at the sounds. Joe mimics my movement,ughing to himself. Could it work? Gunshots crack the air as we fire into the ceiling. At least one man screams and I know we got someone. The footsteps thunder across the ceiling and then a man appears at the top of the stairs with a semiautomatic.


    I shove Joe into an adjacent room as he zes the kitchen with gunfire, granite flying from the counters, dishes crashing, holes tearing into the wall. I grab the Uzi hidden in my jacket and fire back in his general direction, blood churning in my ears. Staying in the room is a death sentence, and I¡¯m preparing to leap out, but Joe grabs the back of my jacket just as bullets m into the threshold. He crashes against the wall with a cry as the gun falls limp from his hand.


    Shit.


    I return fire in the shooter¡¯s general direction, but it¡¯s bing clear that we¡¯re outnumbered and we¡¯ve boxed ourselves in this fucking room.


    Joe struggles to use his other arm to fight back, to grab the gun-and suddenly a hard punch smashes into my shoulder, and then another. My body crashes to the wooden floorboards, my eyes finding Joe¡¯s, which look as tired as I feel.


    Fuck, don¡¯t die. Think about Mnie. You promised her, asshole.


    I raise my gun, aiming for the blurry form in front of me. Crack. He falls to the ground. I shoot again, pulling the trigger like I¡¯m ying a video game. I keep shooting, I-


    Darkness. I¡¯m floating in a pool of ck, and it¡¯s cold. So cold I can feel it inside my chest, inside the very walls of my heart. Where am I?


    No response.


    Is this death, then?


    Thump, thump, thump.


    Ouch. I feel it on my back. A hard thing mming into my shoulders, then back, then legs. It rolls down me.


    Shouting and then sharp blows to my face.


    ¡°Wake up, you fuck!¡±


    The sound of that voice makes my eyes fly open. Jack.


    He stands in front of me with a shotgun in his hand, looking down at me with a savage fury. ¡°Do they fucking know I¡¯m here? Huh?¡±


    They must have dragged me upstairs. We¡¯re in the bedroom, but the bed is pushed against the opposite wall. I see three other guys surrounding me, but I don¡¯t see Joe. A panic fills my chest. ¡°Where¡¯s Joe?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s downstairs,¡± Jack says in an uncharacteristic show of remorse. ¡°Not doing too good.¡±


    Oh Jesus.


    ¡°Call an ambnce,¡± I force through my mouth.


    ¡°I can¡¯t.¡±


    A cold horror robs me of the little warmth I¡¯ve left. Joe took those bullets for me, even though he never liked me much, and now it sounds like he¡¯s in bad shape. It¡¯s my fault. We shouldn¡¯t have rushed the house. I should have stopped him. I try moving my fingers, but they barely twitch. Shit.


    Jack¡¯s face creases with sadness. ¡°I never wanted this, Tommy.¡±


    Yeah, right. You¡¯d do anything to save your own ass.


    ¡°Cocksucker.¡±


    His breath billows over my face as heughs. ¡°Did you call Vince?¡±


    I decide my best chance for survival is to dy the answer to that question for as long as possible. Joe¡¯s incapacitated, and I can barely move. It¡¯s not looking good for me.


    ¡°How could you look me in the eye and tell me to get rid of her, when you¡¯ve been doing the same thing all along?¡±


    ¡°I never gave up anyone who wasn¡¯t going down anyway.¡±


    My chest shakes withughter, making me wince. ¡°You¡¯re so full of shit. After all that harping on omerta. Fuck you!¡±


    Pain briefly shes over Jack¡¯s face. ¡°I was facing over twenty-five years, and I¡¯m an old man. I¡¯ve no intention of dying in prison.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you understand, Jack? You¡¯re already dead.¡±


    Movement downstairs distracts me from the throbbing pains in my shoulder. They must be here. With another pang, I think of Joe downstairs and a fresh wave of grief makes me squeeze my eyes shut.


    ¡°What are you waiting for?¡± he barks at them. ¡°Move!¡±


    They scurry out the door like cockroaches andrge sts rock the floor I¡¯m sitting on. It¡¯s hard against my back, and wetness pools around my shoulder. Every movement releases a wave of agony through my joints. It¡¯s a sharp, piercing pain apanied by a throbbing. I lift my head up, and everything swims. I just want to let my eyes roll up in my head.


    Just sleep.


    Mnie¡¯s face suddenly burns in my mind, and I somehow manage to roll on my side. Jesus, my shoulder. I almost pass out from the pain. Jack sits on the edge of the bed, his 20-gauge aimed at the door.


    ¡°Jack, it¡¯s over. Just put the gun down.¡±N?velDrama.Org owns ? this.


    ¡°Shut the fuck up,¡± he hisses. ¡°If Vincees in here, I¡¯ll blow your head off.¡±


    Iugh hollowly. ¡°You think he cares about some half mick?¡±


    Shouts from down the hallway make Jack tighten his grip around his gun. Suddenly the smell of flowers floats over my nose and I turn my head. There¡¯s something tickling my face. Mnie hangs her head over mine, her dark curls brushing my lips. I smile at her. What the hell is she doing here?


    Get up.


    She mouths the words and I bend my abdomen, sinking back down as pain stabs sharply through my body. Jesus, that¡¯s intense. Looking down, I see a small, dark hole through my shirt. Fuck. My head hits the floor and she gives me another encouraging smile. Her hair. I raise my left hand and a strand slips through my fingers.


    ¡°JACK!¡±


    The door hammers and Jack tenses on the bed, raising the gun.


    ¡°Don¡¯te in!¡±


    Vince was never one to listen to sense.


    The door flies open and the shotgun st rips into the banister. Jack pumps out the shell and it rolls in my direction. ¡°If you don¡¯t throw your gun in here, I¡¯ll kill Tommy.¡±


    ¡°Vince, just kill the bastard!¡±


    ¡°Shut up!¡±


    My heart stalls in my chest when Vince slowly edges into the doorway, his hands held high. He spares a nce at me, and what little color there is in his face drains away.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    He ignores my voice and steps in the room, looking at Jack on the bed with his lip curled in disgust. ¡°There¡¯s nowhere to go, Jack.¡±


    ¡°Like hell there isn¡¯t.¡±


    Once Vince walks in front of my view, I notice the pistol tucked into his back. His hands lower slightly.


    Don¡¯t do it, you psycho. Jack¡¯s shotgun will cut you in half before you can draw it!


    But at the sight of him, Jack seems to lose his nerve. He lowers the gun a fraction of an inch.


    ¡°How could you do this to us?¡±


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t go to jail and not be there for my grandkids. You¡¯re not a father yet, you don¡¯t know what it¡¯s like-¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re supposed to put the family above everything else. Isn¡¯t that what you told me?¡±


    He lifts his head. ¡°There wille a time when you¡¯ll have to make a choice like I did, son. Either way, it¡¯ll rip you apart.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t call me son. Right now, all I want to know is what you fucking told them.¡±


    The blood soaking from my wounds into the floorboards makes me lose concentration on their conversation. My head lolls on the wood, and I see Mnie¡¯s beaming face again. Wow, I must have lost a lot of blood. Suddenly it¡¯s the most hrious thought I¡¯ve ever had, and Iugh. Jack¡¯s face turns toward me. Vince uses the split-second distraction to reach behind his back, but Jack¡¯s shotgun only needs to lift toward his chest.


    Gunshots seem to crack through my skull as the room splits in half with the harsh sounds. Jack¡¯s chest jumps as Vince empties his revolver into Jack¡¯s body, the shotgun flying from his grip. Then a battered Joe appears at the doorway, his face twisted. He limps into the room, ignoring Vince¡¯s orders for him to sit down and take it easy. His arm lifts and Jack¡¯s bleeding, torn body jumps with another volley of gunshots.


    My delirious ass stillughs louder than ever as dark-red holes pepper Jack¡¯s white t-shirt like Swiss cheese. His mouth goes ck and he copses to the floor. Joe spits on him.


    ¡°Tommy, are you-?¡±


    ¡°How much blood has he lost?¡±


    ¡°I dunno. I thought you were worse off.¡±


    ¡°Nah. When Jack came in I just acted like I was.¡±


    I open my eyes, but the shapes and colors are too blurry, so I shut them again. My body jostles somewhat in the moving car, and someone ps my cheeks.


    ¡°Stay with me, Tommy.¡±


    ¡°Who?¡± is the only thing I manage to get out of my lips.


    ¡°It¡¯s me, Vince. Tommy, you need to stay awake. I¡¯m going to have you made as soon as you¡¯re better-¡±


    Like I care about that right now.


    ¡°You have to stay alive for your girl-Mnie.¡±


    What little blood that¡¯s left in my body pounds hard when he mentions her name. He¡¯s absolutely right. Suddenly I¡¯m picked up and I find it hard to untangle the shouting and jostling. My back hits something t and soft, and then I¡¯m speeding away in the cold. The icy wind ripping over my face and the swift movement of my body remind me of sledding, which I did as a boy, and my lips pull.


    Back into warmth, and a sterile, dry smell that makes me want to retch. Hospital. They say things to me that I can barely understand. I pick up the words ¡°gunshot¡± and ¡°surgery¡± but I have only one to give them: ¡°Mnie.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s her number? We¡¯ll call her.¡±


    I start to give it to them, but I can¡¯t remember and then a sharp pain pierces my inner elbow, and then I know nothing.

 4-35

    MELANIE


    Waiting is hell.


    It¡¯s not just the physical act that drives me insane. It¡¯s the expectation that I¡¯m supposed to do nothing. To just sit here and take it. Tommy wouldn¡¯t stand for it-not for a second.


    I lean next to Vincent¡¯s impressive wall of ss in his high-rise apartment. The city looks beautiful from here. It¡¯s nketed in white and I feel the cold from the outdoors through my palms.


    ¡°Do you mind? We just had the windows washed.¡±


    I snatch my hand back and look around at Adriana, who stands in the living room with her arms crossed, looking very severe. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    She keeps staring at me until the vein popping from her neck looks as if it¡¯s going to blow. My cheeks flush under her stare, and I look away. I get it. She hates me.


    ¡°Now that we¡¯re stuck here together, maybe you can exin to me why you tried to get my husband in jail.¡±


    My back muscles tense as I stare down at the city, trying to focus on the beauty of the streets and ignore the anger burning my stomach from the rudeness in her tone.


    ¡°You don¡¯t know anything about me, so just back off.¡±


    ¡°Excuse me?¡±


    I wince from the shrill tone of her voice. Heart hammering, I turn around to face her. Her arms are still tightly wound around her waist.


    ¡°I think you owe me an exnation.¡±


    The stress from the events tonight makes me burst out. ¡°Fine! Your asshole of a husband-¡±


    ¡°Careful.¡± Her eyes sh.


    ¡°He and the rest of the guys in the family bullied my family for months. My dad made a deal he should¡¯ve never made with Jack, and they turned our family business into club where they could sell coke to any kid dumb enough to buy from them. When I didn¡¯t make payments, Vincent was the one who pped me around. So, no, I don¡¯t have any fucking moral regrets about turning him in. It was a chance for me to save myself.¡±


    A zing feeling fills my chest and I take great satisfaction from the shocked look on her face.


    Serves you right, you uppity bitch.


    Adriana swallows hard and moves back, uncrossing her arms. Then her face twists in pain and she gasps.


    ¡°I-I didn¡¯t know.¡±


    Remorse shines from her eyes, and I believe her. I don¡¯t think Vince and the others are really that open with their wives about what they do for a living. It¡¯s probably best for everyone involved.


    A strangled sob leaves her throat and she copses on the coach, looking miserable. I breathe out a long sigh.


    ¡°Hey, it wasn¡¯t-don¡¯t get upset, please.¡±


    ¡°I know he¡¯s not a good man, but I love him. He¡¯s always been¡­amazing to me. I just hate hearing about this-¡±


    I¡¯m bewildered as she covers her face with her hands and lets out a long sob. I always thought the wives must¡¯ve been greedy or stupid, or perhaps both, like caricatures of the wives on The Sopranos. I guess I never really thought of them as human beings.


    Then I think of my rtionship with Tommy. My love for him. The way he turned me from an adversary to a devotee in that dungeon of his. I still can¡¯t understand it.


    ¡°He¡¯s not that bad, really,¡± I say, feeling guilty for the pain on her face. ¡°He stood up for Tommy when Jack wanted him dead, which really is the only reason I¡¯m alive. I¡¯m not angry anymore.¡±


    As I say it and look into her hopeful eyes, I realize it¡¯s true. I just want him toe back to me. Pleasee back to me. She nudges the tissue box on the table toward me, and I feel a wave of gratitude toward her as I grab a couple tissues to stem the flow of tears.


    Waiting is a bitch.


    Adriana makes a few halfhearted suggestions to watch TV, but I shake my head. There¡¯s nothing I can do but strain my ears against the silence and listen for a pair of footsteps. Then Adriana¡¯s phone suddenly rings and she drops it in her excitement.


    ¡°Vince, what¡¯s going on?¡± She listens, her mouth widening in a soundless circle. Her sorrowful gaze looks right at me.


    He doesn¡¯t move. I touch his hand, which feels like ice, I kiss his cheek, and I beg him to wake up-even though I know he hates it. He still doesn¡¯t move. I¡¯ve never seen him look so peaceful. Dark eyshes fan over his pale cheeks and his face is smoothed of wrinkles. There¡¯s nothing furrowing his brow. He almost looks innocent.


    It¡¯s beautiful.


    A low cough reminds me that I¡¯m not alone, and I look across from Tommy to a man who I loathed weeks ago, and now I owe him everything for getting Tommy back to safety. His wife is asleep on his shoulder.


    Now¡¯s my chance.


    ¡°Listen, I-¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t need to hear it,¡± he says abruptly, his eyes colder than ever.


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    Dark eyes glower at me. ¡°I told you I didn¡¯t need to hear it.¡±


    ¡°Well, maybe I needed to say it.¡±


    The heat from his gaze smolders into cool indifference. He nods his head and looks away, and I turn back toward Tommy. He just looks so lost, and the doctor¡¯s don¡¯t even know if there will be nerve damage.This is property ? of N?velDrama.Org.


    The nurse knocks on the door and startles Adriana from her sleep. ¡°Sorry,¡± she says, looking ¡¯round at us, ¡°but there can only be one person at a time.¡±


    Adriana stands to her feet and tugs Vince¡¯s arm. ¡°Let¡¯s leave them alone.¡±


    My lips pull upward into a smile, silently thanking her for letting me stay with him. I¡¯ll be here all night-it doesn¡¯t matter.


    I¡¯ll never leave him.


    My hand intertwines with his, and every so often I bring it to my lips and I pray to whatever god there is that Tommy will wake up. And then, like magic, I feel his hand twitch in mine.


    ¡°Tommy?¡±


    Slowly his lids flutter and I copse into relief as heavily-lidded hazel eyes seek mine out. ¡°Mel.¡±


    Oh God. All of the worries building up in my chest suddenly expel from my lips, shaking. ¡°You¡¯re awake. Thank God, you¡¯re awake!¡±


    His mouth twitches. ¡°I promised.¡±


    My hand smoothes the hair from his face as joy electrifies every surface of my skin. I kiss him, eager to feel that passionate heat between us that I took for granted, and when I pull back he doesn¡¯t look away from me, not even when Vince¡¯s voice calls out for him.

 4-36

    It only takes a week before Tommy is cleared to leave the hospital, with strict instructions to take it easy. Vince helps him walk up the steps to his apartment, and Tommy wraps a grateful arm around his waist.


    ¡°Thanks for everything.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll talk soon,¡± he says, turning around to descend the steps. His gaze sweeps over me. ¡°Make sure he rests.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯ll try.¡± I bury a smile as Tommy grins down at me.


    I don¡¯t think anyone¡¯s ever made Tommy do anything.


    He opens the door before I can do it for him and limps to the living room. Cursing, I shut it and run to his side, but he¡¯s already slumped on the couch with a painful grin.


    ¡°You¡¯re supposed to let me help you.¡±


    ¡°Are you trying to emascte mepletely?¡±


    I move behind the couch and take his head in my hands, gently massaging his temples. I bend over the side and kiss his cheek. In over a week, I haven¡¯t been able to touch him-we haven¡¯t been alone, but now I finally feel that heavy silence dropping over both of us.


    ¡°Think of it as being pampered.¡± My lips brush his ear, and then my tongue darts out, teasing. I kiss the spot below his ear, and his hand shoots upward, grabbing the one around his face.


    ¡°Come here,¡± he says in a gritty voice.


    Instead I pull away with a smile. He watches me disappear into the kitchen with a hungry look zing his face. ¡°I¡¯ll make you some lunch. Stay there.¡±


    He glowers at me as I yell across the apartment, clearly not used to being ordered around. But he doesn¡¯tin when I walk back with a te of a heavy roast beef sandwich on rye, kosher dills speared in half, and a tall ss of water. His eyes lighten when he sees the food made for him. Tommy takes the te and stares at it for a moment, looking surprised.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong? Don¡¯t like roast beef?¡±


    A flurry of anxiety rises in my stomach. I should¡¯ve asked him first. The frown curving his lips makes my heart thud against my chest.


    ¡°No one¡¯s ever made food for me like this.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean? Your mom didn¡¯t-?¡±


    ¡°She didn¡¯t let me starve or anything, but she never went out of her way like this. When I was sick, I pretty much had to fend for myself.¡± His face hardens. ¡°I¡¯m notining, I¡¯m just not used to this.¡±


    Not used to being cared for. It pulls at my heartstrings and my hand flies out to touch his hair.


    ¡°You made dinner for me, remember?¡±


    A wicked smile spreads across his face. ¡°How could I forget?¡± Suddenly he ces the sandwich back on the table and stands up, circling his hands around my hips.


    ¡°Tommy, what¡¯re you doing?¡±


    ¡°You.¡±


    Heat fills my face as he yanks my body into his and descends his lips over mine. Every sound from outside drops away as he slips his hands around my back and behind my jeans to squeeze my ass. I gasp into his mouth, already lost in the sensation, and Ipletely forget that he¡¯s injured-that he¡¯s supposed to rest.


    With a growl, he suddenly swings me into his arms and carries me like a doll.


    ¡°Tommy!¡± I shriek. ¡°Put me down! You just got out of the hospital.¡±


    But some sort of mad energy makes him take the stairs with ease, only a faint bead of perspiration on his head. ¡°I don¡¯t need rest-I need you. It¡¯s been a whole week.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t-you¡¯re not strong enough.¡±


    A hard glint in his eyes makes me quail in his arms. ¡°You need another lesson in who¡¯s in charge, don¡¯t you?¡±


    He finally lets me down in his bedroom, in front of the long mirror against the wall. My skin tingles as he brushes his fingers over my shoulders and suddenly yanks on the t-shirt, lifting it over my head. The bra soon follows, and I watch in the mirror as Tommy spreads his palms over my breasts, groping them hard as his mouth ys with my neck. A rush of heat glows between my legs, like a straight line from his hands all the way to my pussy. Then he bends down and unzips my jeans, tugging them off my legs as he kisses my skin. His hand cups my mound, teasing me through the thin cotton fabric of my panties. Tommy is still behind me, forcing me to watch him own me with his hands. A thrill rises in my stomach when I feel his cock harden against my back and then I bend over and remove my panties without waiting for him to do it.


    I turn around in his arms, my breasts flush against his chest. The steamy look he gives me sends flight to the butterflies in my stomach, and his hand suddenly ps my ass.


    ¡°I need to punish you but all I want to do is to throw you on my bed and fuck you.¡±


    He grips my jaw and forces a biting kiss on my mouth, one that makes me sway on my feet. Then his grip transfers to the back of my neck, leading me to the bed so forcefully that my heart gallops in my chest, but he forces me to sit on the edge of the bed and gathers something from that box underneath.


    A roll of duct tape.


    He smiles at the revulsion on my face and picks up something else from the floor: my panties.


    My eyes flick from his grinning face to the duct tape and panties.


    ¡°No, please.¡±


    ¡°I need to do something about your mouth, sweetie. You keep talking to me like we¡¯re equals.¡±


    Usually I ignore half of the shit he says during sex-it¡¯s all just dirty talk anyway, but this makes meugh.


    Wrong move.


    Darkness slides over his face like clouds drifting over the moon. He grabs the back of my neck and holds my panties to my lips, giving me a look that can only be described as ominous.


    ¡°Open your fucking mouth.¡±


    His voice makes me flinch, but I recoil against his hand. No fucking way am I doing that. I open my mouth to protest, and he shoves the panties between my lips, pping his hand around my mouth before I can spit them out.


    My whole face is on fire as my tongue moves ufortably around thece fabric. With a savage grin, he picks up the duct tape. I struggle against him, trying to shove his chest away from me, and I scream through his hand. My struggles only excite him more. The more I fight, the more dimples crease around his mouth. He shoves me backward, hand still over my mouth, and he climbs over my body, pinning my arms down with his knees.


    He lets go of my mouth for a second to rip a section of duct tape, and I spit my panties out, so furious that I could hit him. Tommy doesn¡¯t bat an eysh. The panties soaked with my saliva press against my lips.


    ¡°We can do this the hard way, if you want. I don¡¯t mind a good fight.¡± His eyes glint mischievously. ¡°Or, you can be a good girl and ept your punishment.¡±


    Somehow I¡¯m ashamed that my chest has started to flush just because his thighs are sitting on my arms, and I have a good view of the cock lengthening under his jeans. I bring my legs up against his back and my mouth trembles as it opens.


    ¡°Good girl.¡±


    My cheeks burn as he pushes the underwear back inside, followed swiftly by a strip of duct tape. He ttens the edges on my cheeks and stops for a moment to tenderly trace the outline of my lips. Then he relieves the pressure on my arms, moving his legs to straddle my waist.


    ¡°You might find this hard to believe, but I¡¯m doing this because I love you.¡±


    He squeezes my chest and I moan into the duct tape, immediately flushing when he grins back at me.


    Cocky son of a bitch.


    ¡°If you want to be with me, you need to learn your ce.¡±


    I¡¯m yanked to a sitting position, my cheeks blowing against the tape. Desire radiates from his eyes as he gently takes me by the neck and forces me to stand in front of the mirror.


    I see a short, curvy woman, looking ridiculous with duct tape sealing her mouth shut, her cheeks slightly puffed from the panties inside her mouth. God, it¡¯s embarrassing. I don¡¯t even like seeing myself naked, and Tommy relishes my difort. He hooks an arm around my neck and his hand seizes my head as the other grabs my tits roughly.


    ¡°Spread your legs.¡±


    The low hiss in my ear sends a jolt of electricity to my pussy. I obey him, spreading my legs apart as his hand curves around my thigh. His fingers pinch my skin as he roughly yanks me, and then another swell of shame engulfs my face when he curves his palm over my pussy. The glistening-I can see it all the way from here. Three warm fingers spread my lips apart and slide through the slick entrance. I can feel his smile on my neck.


    ¡°So fucking wet for me. You really enjoy this humiliation, don¡¯t you?¡± He sneers at my silence. ¡°Answer me, damn it,¡± he growls, pping my face lightly.


    I mumble a muffled reply as he wheels my face around to look in the mirror. He slides his fingers in and out of me, stretching me apart, and all I can think is that it¡¯s not wide enough. I want the cock burning against my back inside me. My body aches for that sweet release. asionally he pulls out to massage my juices around my clit, pressing hard with the ridge of his finger until my chest heaves with a silent gasp.


    He fucks me with his fingers, turning my head so that I can watch how aroused I am. He ps my inner thighs and a sheen of wetness shines over the bright-red skin. The sound of him sliding inside me, the wet sounds, gather redness on my chest and face. He¡¯s a furnace, and every small movement of his hand is like a hot, painful sunburn.


    ¡°Look at how much you want my cock.¡±


    I bite my lip hard, refusing to give in to his goading. His wet hand pulls out of me and my pussy throbs in his absence. He grabs my face with his hand, smearing my juices all over my cheeks and the duct tape. I can smell my scent everywhere, and it just adds to the pit of burning shame.


    Tommy¡¯s warmth leaves my side for a moment. He grabs a thick ck nylon rope as my lips work furiously under the tape. He ties it around my wrists and then he pushes my shoulder down so that I¡¯m crouching on the wooden floor. Adjusting my legs, he makes me kneel on all fours, twisting the rope around my legs and tightening until my wrists are attached to my thighs. I strain against the ropes, but only seed in getting raw marks against my flesh.


    Then his fingers curl in my hair, wrenching my head back so that I¡¯m forced to look at the pathetic, bound woman, gagged by her own underwear, in the mirror. Tommy bends over me, fist in my hair, and I shiver at the contact of his t-shirt brushing my back.


    ¡°I want you to watch yourself.¡±


    His bell-likeughter resounds in my ears as he releases my hair and drops back to unzip his pants. The sound of them dropping adds another thrill to the base of my stomach. The leather ps through his hand and I watch as he coils it. My skin twitches as he runs the leather strap over my back, curving down my ass. On bended knees, he briefly smoothes his hand over my ass and then he brings back the arm holding his belt, and I moan in protest.


    I screw my eyes shut as the belt whistles through the air andnds with a painfully loud smack on my ass. My muffled cries only seem to put a smile on Tommy¡¯s face as he raises the belt again.


    ¡°No, don¡¯t!¡± I try to scream.


    Thwack!N?vel(D)ra/ma.Org exclusive ? material.


    The broad strap of the leather sings against my flesh, burning so badly that I can feel the sharp edges of the belt. Tommy smoothes the burning skin with his hands,ughing as he looks at the marks.


    ¡°Watch yourself, Mnie.¡±


    I do. My hair spills over my back as I lift my head. My eyes follow the arch of my back and the swell of my ass, reddened with his belt. Tommy brings back his arm and rips the belt across my raw flesh and I scream into the panties balled in my mouth. He reaches underneath me and ys with my clit, finding me nice and wet as my skin continues to burn. Now it¡¯s a pleasant burn with his fingers expertly stroking my clit, sending electrical jolts over my skin, my pussy clenching with need. Then he ps the leather against my skin, still furiously working over my clit, and I moan as a shiver of desire runs up my leg.


    ¡°More!¡± I scream. ¡°More!¡±


    He curls his fingers into me, adding agony to the desire shaking my limbs. The blows of his belt send shockwaves through my body until I¡¯m bucking against him, marveling at his ability to turn pain into pleasure. The belt ngs loudly on the wooden floor as he tosses it aside, and then he moves behind my bent-over body, fisting his cock in his hands.


    Yes, I need it now!


    He makes a growl somewhere in his throat as his cock pushes apart my folds and sinks into me. I sigh with relief, tears sparkling down my face as he leans forward, digging into me, and grabs a handful of my hair. He jerks my head back and I arch my body. Tommy ms his hips into me, filling me deep as he pulls my hair, forcing me onto his cock.


    His other hand moves underneath me, groping my tits as his cock shoves inside me, pummeling that sweet spot that makes guttural moans escape my mouth. He lunges forward, knocking the air from my chest as he grabs the back of my throat. My muffled shrieks and moans rebound in my ears as he fucks me so hard that I can feel his throbbing length shoving against my walls. It¡¯s painful, but his hand that caresses me is not. His hand teases me, fondling my tits, pinching my nipple, or sliding down my stomach to y with my clit.


    ¡°I want to hear you,¡± he growls, reaching forward to grab the edge of the tape.


    It rips off my lips like a Band-Aid and he reaches inside my mouth to grab the soaked panties, and tosses them out. I gulp air greedily and the air fills with my sharp gasps.


    ¡°Oh my God, Tommy!¡±


    I look at myself in the mirror, Tommy thrusting his powerful hips behind me as I¡¯m on all fours on the floor like some kind of ve, pain and ecstasy twisting my face. He pushes my shoulders forward and lowers me to the floor so that my cheek rests on the wood and my ass is in the air. Then he pounds me ruthlessly and the room is filled with the sounds of pping flesh and my raised moans. He¡¯s never fucked me this desperately and suddenly I clench myself, squeezing tighter around him. It¡¯s a painful, merciless fuck, but the way in which he does it-his determination to get what he wants from me sends me high in the sky.


    ¡°Who do you belong to?¡±


    ¡°You! I belong to you-always.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re damn right.¡±


    Tommy¡¯s groans fill the room as he makes onest deep thrust and Ie soon after him, my thighs shuddering as a pleasant wave washes over me like the sea. His chest rises and falls against my back, and I feel him fiddling with the knots on my wrists. Soon after, I¡¯m freed and he lifts me in his arms, gently depositing me on the bed. We slide under the sheets and Tommy brings me into his arms, giving me the affection that I need. My body trembles beside his, still in the throes of my orgasm. He slides his face beside mine and catches my lips in a long, sweet kiss. It¡¯s so tender, so unlike the way he treated me only moments before, that I¡¯m taken aback.


    ¡°What have you done with Tommy?¡±


    He smiles then, and it lightens his whole face. ¡°I¡¯m right here.¡±


    Looking at him, I begin to understand. He¡¯s telling me the truth. There was always a darkness to Tommy¡¯s light. I knew that.


    We stay there in each other¡¯s arms for a while, just basking in the joy of being in love, but there¡¯s something needling me. Something we haven¡¯t talked about yet.


    ¡°What are you going to do?¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°I mean what are your ns for¡­you know, work?¡±


    He looks at me. ¡°I might leave New York and go somewhere friendlier. Montreal, maybe.¡±


    I nestle myself in the crook of his neck, my heart tightening and releasing when he kisses my head. Montreal. I¡¯ve never been there, but I¡¯ve heard there¡¯s a great college in the city and a medical school.


    ¡°I have a guy who could get us visas easily.¡±


    I feel his stare on my skin and I meet his slightly widened gaze. He¡¯s afraid I¡¯ll say no. That I won¡¯t want toe with him.


    ¡°You should know by now that I¡¯ll follow you wherever you go.¡±


    Then a wide, joyful smile spreads over his face, and his eyebrows lift. He looks so damn happy that I barely recognize him.


    ¡°I love you, sweetie.¡±


    The pet name I used to loathe rolls from his lips. I grab his face, kissing him hard enough to make my mouth numb, marveling at the fact that someone who kidnapped me could make me feel so free.


    The end. I hope you enjoyed this book and if you did, check my other works as well.


    I love you all.


    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and


    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!