Elena
I’m listening to Max’s voice repeating math formulas after his teacher when my phone buzzes in my hand. A new message from Irina:
Black Cat at 5.
I glance at the clock and then at the door of Max’s room. It’s twelve past three, we have plenty of time. Maybe I should take a walk around the house or spend some time under the sun outside. It sounds better than sitting here for another hour-but I don’t want to leave Max alone. Or maybe I don’t want to be alone, either.
Don’t get me wrong, the house itself is quite nice. It’s been a couple of weeks since I moved in, and I’ve already become familiar with the servants, cooks, and guards around the house. They aren’t members of the Messina clan and don’t even count as pawns in their games, so it seems like their life here is pretty stable. I’ve never seen them leave the house, though, but that’s a given. You can’t have a life outside of the Mafia world.
I’ve naturally become the closest with Alice. She helps me with everything, from getting dressed to taking care of Max, and I’ve grown fond of her smiles which are still a rarity. She is young but not enough for me to be worried. Alice has mentioned that she’s only nineteen, but you know, at least she’s not a minor working around guns and prostitutes. (I’ve never seen one here, but it doesn’t mean they aren’t kept in other places.)
I still don’t know how she ended up here, but Alice keeps her lips sealed, and I don’t question her too much. If Riccardo keeps her around, Alice is good enough to be trusted; everything else is her business, not mine.
I wish I could spend my days with the servants and Max only, but unfortunately, we are not the only ones occupying the house-and I’m not talking about Riccardo. The members of his clan show up as frequently as he does, and it keeps me on tenterhooks. Whenever I enter a room, I don’t know if I’m gonna find another Italian with a grim frown and a hand on his belt. Sometimes, they don’t even talk to me, just watch me silently until I exit the room. And how am I supposed to feel comfortable here?
And let’s not forget about my damn husband. Riccardo hasn’t done anything to me since the wedding night; he mostly ignores me, too deep in his business to care about the world around him. But sometimes, oh, sometimes, I do catch his gazes on me-dark or teasing, heated or cold like ice-and they make me shiver from inside.
Riccardo is dangerous in many ways, and I know I should stay away from him. Being involved with him is never a good idea, and my own life is a prime example. It’s not only the pure power to break my life and do whatever he wants with me-it’s the frantic rhythm of my heart whenever I meet his gaze that scares me.
I refuse to admit that the years of my youth can be so easily brought back to mind by one night with Riccardo-but that is exactly what’s been happening lately. My nights are full of thoughts and memories, so I spend my days avoiding him and not giving him any excuse to touch me and make it even worse. I’ve been staying in Max’s room since the second night simply because I don’t know if I’ll be able to reject Riccardo if he demands me again.
God. I cover my eyes with my hand when I realize that my heart is pounding in my chest from these thoughts alone. How can a woman be so stupid? It’s as if I don’t remember Riccardo tormenting me for years.
In college, Riccardo wouldn’t let me pass without calling me, pushing me, insulting me, or making me trip over my feet. He had no mercy for me-Riccardo saw me as an enemy, and a weaker one at that. How could he not use it to please his own teenage ego? And how did I manage to fall in love with such a jerk?
The thought makes me feel sick. There’s probably something wrong with me-and that’s why I shouldn’t even think about getting close to Riccardo. He used to be brutal and hotheaded when we were teens, and I don’t want to test him now. I don’t want him to show the true face of a Mafia killer in front of Max. God, if Riccardo ever finds out the truth about him-
“Mom! Mommy, it’s over! Can I go out now?”
Max’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts, and I startle when he suddenly places his hand on my shoulder, jumping around. He’s grinning brightly, so happy to be done with the lesson, and I can’t help but smile back at him. Max likes it here; the big and scary men fascinate him, and the brightly lit ocean is so different from the hills and lakes of Wisconsin. Isn’t that all that matters?
I allow Max to play outside, but I follow him closely; I never let him roam around the house on his own. Riccardo might have been patient the few times we have stumbled upon him, but other members of his family may not react well to an eight-year-old bumping into them on the way to the bathroom. I mean, that’s why the dwelling place of a Mafia don is not the best place for kids, huh?
We spend some time among the palms and ponds behind the mansion, and Max even grabs enough time to jump into the pool. He used to be intimidated by it at first, but now he’s more than happy to spend hours near the water. But I don’t let him, not this time. The evening is approaching, and it’s time for us to get ready for the drive into the city.
The sky’s still a bright blue when we finally leave the mansion, and it feels weird to be able to relax and simply watch the scenery outside. Riccardo has assigned me a driver, but I still can’t get used to it. Max doesn’t seem to like it either-he was waiting for so long to be big enough to ride without his car seat, only to be forced to spend the rides in the back again. But well, it’s not like Riccardo cares about our opinions on the matter.
We arrive at Black Cat just a few minutes before five, and even the quiet part of the city greets us with live music from the nearby park and the laughter of thin crowds. Irina has chosen this place because it’s a part of the neutral territory-the tension between our families has gone down but hasn’t disappeared entirely. Neither of us would want to provoke another conflict by stepping into the other’s territory.
“I’ll be around, Signora,” the driver pulls my attention when I lay my hand on the door. “I’ll pick you up as soon as you’re ready.”
So basically, he’s gonna stay close and “keep an eye on me” as Riccardo put it once. What, are they worried I’m gonna run away again? I chuckle and nod at the driver through the rearview mirror before motioning for Max to follow me out of the car. If I had a chance to escape, I’d have done it already; it’s Max who stops me, not their watchful eyes.
The driver’s words leave a trail of annoyance in my mind, but as soon as I see Irina through the cafe window, my heart feels lighter. The gorgeous waves of her blond hair and elegant profile are visible from afar, attracting glances from every man passing by, but Irina is more focused on her phone than strangers around her.
Who could imagine that I’d get married before her? Certainly not me.
Irina is an important communicator in our family, so it’s rare to see her without a phone in hand. She only notices us when we are a few steps away from the table, but even then I think she looks up from her glasses only because Max lets out a squeal of joy.
“Auntie!”
He breaks into a run in just a few steps, and Irina only has enough time to put her phone away before his arms wrap around her shoulders. They’ve only seen each other a couple of times since we arrived in Chicago, but Max and Irina quickly took a liking to each other. He likes to share stories, and she likes to listen, so when I left them on their own once, Max spent a whole hour telling her about our trips to Lake Michigan.
“Hi, sweetie.” Irina looks at me over Max’s shoulder, and I see a hint of a smile on her face. She keeps a lot of her emotions to herself, so whenever I see something genuine it always makes my heart warm. “How was the ride?”
“Not bad.” I shrug as I take a seat opposite her, but Irina is too
attentive to let it slip.
“What happened?”
“They don’t let me go out on my own.” Ah, I didn’t mean to sound so petulant, but I guess I do feel offended. I’m not a child, after all. I can take care of myself!
“Interesting.” Irina tilts her head and pats Max’s back to get him on the ground. “Tell me more.”
It takes me a while to tell her everything, but I do my best. Even just a couple of weeks have already become an endless source of stories: from the one about Riccardo calling me Cinderella to Max finding a gun in the dining room. Irina listens to everything with the attention of an eagle, and even though I know that she captures every bit of information for her own records, I don’t mind.
What I don’t mention in my stories, though, is how I spent my wedding night-but my sister is not that simple. After I skip right through it, Irina doesn’t shy away from asking me directly how it was-but I lie to her without a blink of an eye. If there’s anything my family has taught me, it’s the art of deception.
“Well, it looks like everything is better than I imagined.” Irina leans back in her seat and taps her fingers against the table, adding in a careless tone, “Do you know that guy?”
I smile a little, not allowing my tension to slip through, and keep my eyes on her. “The one watching us?”
“Yes.”
“No, he’s not with me.”
“Interesting.” Irina hums and runs a hand through her hair, inconspicuously glancing at the man from the corner of her eye.
I noticed him some twenty minutes ago when I turned to look at Max playing with a cat and saw a man hurriedly looking away. It was enough to ring a bell in my head. In the life of a Mafia family, suspicion becomes second nature. I’ve glanced at him a few times since then, but the man remained turned away from us.
“He’s Mafia,” Irina murmurs a second later and looks up at me. She wears the same calm, indifferent expression as before, and only her eyes are unfocused as she calculates something in her head. “And he’s been watching Max, too. Are you sure you don’t know him?”
I glance over my shoulder, but the man isn’t looking my way.
Instead, his gaze is directed at Max, and the sight itself sends a jolt of anger through my body. Is this another one of Riccardo’s jokes? Because I don’t want to play his games. His men should stay away from my son, I’ve told him already.
But what if he’s not one of us?
I turn to Irina with a grim look and tension creeping into my body. We’re not the only two families in Chicago, and if someone found out about the marriage-and I’m pretty sure the rumors went around really quickly- they’d want to use it against Riccardo. Damn it. Why didn’t I realize it right away?
“I’m gonna take care of it.” I immediately get up from my seat with my heart hammering in my chest. It’s been a while since I had to deal with actual danger, but that doesn’t mean I’ve lost my grip.
Irina looks over her glasses with curiosity. “Do you need help?”
“Just look after Max.”
I glance at him and notice that another boy has joined him on the bench. Max easily makes new acquaintances, and it seems that their chat is going pretty well. Good. He needs friends here-as long as he doesn’t tell them where he lives.
I pointedly walk past the man to Max and pat his shoulder. “I’m going out for a minute. Be good and listen to your aunt.”
He looks at Irina, making sure she’s still here, and nods at me before turning back to the boy. I glance at his new friend, too, and offer him a smile, although the boy looks wary of me. He is Hispanic, probably one of the Mexicans from across the border, and I’m not even sure if he understood what I was saying. He asks Max something in Spanish as soon as I turn away, but Max doesn’t understand a bit and asks him to repeat.
I leave them to it and, not looking at the man, go out of the cafe and onto the lively street. The colors of sunset have already painted the sky orange, and the air around me is glowing in its light. But I don’t pause to enjoy it and turn in whatever direction, just away from the cafe and Max. Is the driver around? Maybe he could do something actually useful and help me here?
The car doesn’t appear, however, and it doesn’t take long until I find a turn to a narrow alley between the buildings. It’s dark and empty, leaving the bustling life of Chicago outside of its walls, and my whole body tenses up with a rush of adrenaline. My heart picks up its pace as I look around, quickly getting familiar with my surroundings. I don’t have much time to find the best place for a counterattack, especially when I hear steps behind me and a raspy male voice.
“Where are you-”
I sharply turn around and rush toward him without a second of delay, ready to dig my nails into his face. Dad has taught me that the best defense is an attack, and I’m not going to let his lessons go to waste. I may not be as physically fit for a fight, but I’m gonna do all I can. It’s better for them to hurt me than touch Max.
The guy’s eyes widen for a moment when he realizes what I’m doing, but it takes him no more than a second to avoid my fury. He steps to the side, and I immediately turn to him, pushing him into the wall with all my strength. Thankfully, he’s not as big as some of the guys I’ve seen in Riccardo’s mansion, but he’s full of muscles and resilience.
“Elena, you’re being-”
I don’t listen to him, lashing out all over again and this time reaching him just enough to scratch across his face. He winces, and I use the moment to kick his knee, sending him into the wall and feeling quite proud of myself. It may not be a win, but I did get him. The lessons of my childhood didn’t go to waste.
“Who are you? What do you want from me?” I glare at the guy, and even I can hear that my voice is seething with anger.
I don’t care that he’s stronger than me, I don’t care that he may knock me out with one punch. If he came after me, then he knows who I am and whose protection I carry. If he wants to get in trouble with both Russians and Italians, I don’t mind.
The guy turns to me with a grim frown, holding on to his cheek, and I only have enough time to blink before he catches both of my wrists and shakes me a little. “Signora Elena, I’m here to protect you.”
Huh? I blink a few times and breathe out, focusing on the man’s face. Shit. He does look Italian.
“Who the hell are you?”
I yank my wrists out of his grip and glare at him, not allowing embarrassment to show on my face. It was stupid of me to lash out without question, but goddamnit, can they warn me next time?
“I’m Louis,” he says slowly, keeping his eyes on me as if worried that I’m gonna start punching him again. “It’s too dangerous for you to be so close to the Mexicans’ territory, so Riccardo sent me here to keep an eye on you.”
I frown. “What Mexicans? Mount Hope is a neutral territory.”
“It used to be, but Mexicans have laid an eye on it.” Louis lowers his voice, and I realize that he’s serious. “Your sister wouldn’t save you if they found out you were here.”
“Well, isn’t that why you sent the driver with me?” I gesture in the direction of the street with annoyance and worry in my chest. I’ve already forgotten what it’s like to watch my step wherever I go. The rights and wrongs are different in the underworld.
Louis frowns and looks at me with more attention. “What driver?”
“My driver. The one who brought us here.”
“Signora, there were no drivers assigned to you today,” he explains slowly, watching my reaction. “That’s why Riccardo sent me here, to not leave you-”
“Wait, wait, what do you mean there were no drivers?”
I feel my heart going cold at the thought of it. It’s wrong. It’s so wrong. I see that Louis shares my fear because we turn simultaneously- only to see a Mexican couple waiting for us at the entrance of the alley.
“Have you lost your way?” The woman tilts her head, watching us with raised eyebrows, while the man steps forward. A wave of adrenaline rushes through me, and I curl my hands into fists-when I see people on the street start to run.
I hear a gunshot, screams of women, and among all that, a distinct childish cry.
“Mommy!”