Anastasia
I’m scared he’s going to be firm in his answer. That he won’t help me. I realize now that if anyone can, it would be him. Sometimes a leader has to delegate. That was my short-sightedness. But then, I’ve underestimated him all along.
Something stirred deep inside me when he took charge tonight when he saved my life and knew what to do. I hate being controlled and bossed around, but when he took charge, it was electrifying.
I remain patient, watching him with a sense of unease but hope. His eyes meet mine, and he shakes his head again, and I feel the disappointment take hold.
“We need to figure out a way to get permission from our families,” he says. “Because this isn’t how things are done, Ana.” I nod, agreeing at least to buy me some time.
His phone starts ringing again, and he takes it out of his pocket. He looks at the screen, meets my gaze, and then looks back at the screen. He slides to answer the call and puts the phone to his ear.
“Dom, I was racing away like the devil was on my heels,” he says. He sounds confident.
I can hear he’s being yelled at, and I feel a pang of guilt. I didn’t want to get Luigi into trouble for something I did. This is important, though, and I need him.
“Yes,” Luigi says. “Yes, I know this was a complete balls-up. But I saw an opportunity, and I took it.” He pauses for a moment. “The girl I took?”
More shouting from the other end, and I hug myself, straining my ears to hear what Dominic is saying. “I’m glad Toby and Clint made it back okay.” His eyes meet mine. I nod, letting out a small breath.
“The girl is an important hostage…”
I look at him with big eyes, shaking my head subtly. Clearly, Toby and Clint didn’t recognize me at the auction, so Dominic doesn’t know I’m with Luigi.
This could work out in my favor, and I feel hope building up again inside me.
Luigi sighs softly, I’m not sure if Dominic heard him, but he starts talking again, “Dom, I’ll keep her for a few days at a secret location before releasing her. It’s best not to discuss these things over the phone. You never know who is listening. We’re just going to lay low for a few days, and I’ll call you once I’m back in the city.”
There’s a pause from Dominic’s side, and then I hear another voice on the line. Speaking clearly and slowly, without emotion, I know it’s Alessandro on the call with Luigi. I see he loses a little color in his face when the head of his family addresses him. He pulls the phone from his ear and hits the speaker phone button, undoubtedly so I can listen to what’s being said now.
“I don’t care who it is that you thought you needed to rescue, Luigi. I’m sure you have your reasons, and they will be good ones. But ditch the bitch you saved as soon as possible and come home. Mateo Catalan has posted a hit on your head tonight, and it’s a hefty price. The girl doesn’t matter, lie low and get back home where we can protect you properly.” Alessandro sounds no-nonsense, and I can see Luigi’s desire to tell him everything.
I shake my head slowly, biting my lip as I’ve seen actresses do to look seductive.
Luigi shakes his head back at me, but I realize it’s because he’s giving in to me. He sighs and says, “I’ll do that, don’t worry. I don’t want to give details over the phone, but you will understand when you know the full story.”
“I hope so,” Alessandro says, his voice cold. “Because I do not like it when things do not go according to a well-chosen plan.”
“I assure you, it will make sense. I’ll see you soon.” Alessandro hangs up, and I realize that I have gotten Luigi into a lot of trouble, but still, I can’t help the sense of vengeance that burns in my heart.
“Luigi…”
“You can sleep in the bedroom,” he says as he stands up. “You’ll need your rest. Tomorrow we get back to our families, and I won’t mention that you got yourself in this mess, but you will have to explain how this happened to your father when he asks.”
“Please, help me get my revenge, and my father will overlook everything. He’ll get Alessandro to do the same,” I plead.
“I’ll take the sofa,” he says with a note of finality.
I’m disappointed as he holds out a hand and I stand. I look up at him, but he looks away so I carefully walk to the bedroom and curl under the sheets. But I can’t sleep. I feel like the adrenaline is still coursing through my body from being taken. My body still burns where the old woman scrubbed me clean. I can hear Luigi tossing and turning on the sofa, and I feel a sense of guilt.
Maybe this is why my father doesn’t want me to lead. Because I can’t think things through. I won’t lie, this has knocked my confidence down a notch, but surely all great leaders make mistakes. No one is perfect.
The still air of the night starts to calm me down and lulls me into a sense of peace. For the briefest moment, I picture what it would be like if Luigi had shared the bed with me. How safe I would feel if he held me in his arms and I rested my head on his thick chest. I don’t know where these thoughts keep coming from, but I close my eyes, and in the next instant, light is streaming through the room.
I hadn’t closed the curtains to block out the morning sun, so I blearily blink my eyes open. They ache from the brightness attacking them.
I can hear a sizzling sound and smell bacon, possibly eggs.
I get up and fix myself as best I can before going to the kitchen, where Luigi is making food. I sit down at the island near him, and he nods in my direction.
“Morning,” I say quietly.
He nods again.
He dishes the food onto two plates and places one in front of me.
“Eat up. We need to get going.”
I tuck into the large plate of food. It’s delicious and fills my stomach. I didn’t realize it was hurting from being empty, abused by alcohol, and being drugged. I glance at Luigi, and a thought strikes me suddenly.
“So,” I say casually, “they attacked you for being a Sorvino which means the Catalans and Sorvinos are enemies, right? I mean, that could pose a big problem for both our families.”
“Don’t talk about what you don’t know,” he says, not making eye contact.
“Am I wrong?” I ask, picking at my eggs.
He sighs and looks at me with an annoyed expression. “What are you getting at?”
“I’m just saying that if you and I were to take out Mateo, it would benefit both our families. I would get revenge for my father and myself, and you would have sent a message back to the rest of the Catalan family that the Sorvinos are not to be messed with.
“We would need the blessing from our families,” he says, returning to his food.
I nod. “You’re right, although it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission. My life will be in danger because I got away, and they will want me back to sell me to whoever was challenging you.” I steal a glance at him again.
He eats his food, then sighs, putting down his fork and wiping his mouth. “We would have to terminate all communication with our families, work through my people that my family doesn’t use, and we would have to ensure that this doesn’t come back to bite us in the ass. Do you get that?”
I try not to get giddy, but I can’t help myself. I stand and throw my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. He sighs in my ear, and after I let him go, he takes out his phone.
I watch as he sends a text and ask, “What are you doing?”
“Tell the cousins I’m going radio silent for a few days. They’ll know that means I’m destroying this phone.” He makes sure the text goes through before he actually destroys the phone.
It surprises me. “I’ll have to get you a new one.”
“I don’t need you to,” he says before he points out, “Now we have no backup. So you do as I say when I say it. Do you understand?” I nod.
I open my mouth to say that I will do whatever he wants when bullets start flying through the kitchen.
Luigi
It’s an instant reflex.
The minute the bullets start destructively flying through the kitchen, I grab her hand and drag her down so she doesn’t get hit.
Glass shatters and wood splinters. I put a hand on her shoulder.
“Keep your head down. I’m going to see how many of them there are.”
She does as she’s told, at least, and I take the gun in the back of my tracksuit out and crawl toward the window. The kitchen window partially faces the dirt road, so they must have seen us in here together. I glance out the window slowly from the bottom and see a parked car. Two Mexicanlooking men are standing with their guns out, aiming at the cabin. The one man is on the phone shouting in Mexican, obviously alerting everyone looking for us that they found us.
I duck down and take a deep breath before I slowly peek over again. Before they can do anything, I stand and shoot both of them in the head. I glance around outside the window, listening with laser focus. When I’m sure there’s no one else there, I turn toward Ana, yelling, “Come on, we need to get out here.”
She follows me out of the kitchen. I scoop up the kit bag I had packed during the night when I couldn’t sleep and open the door. I hold a hand up, step outside to look around and then give a short nod.
I lead her to our car, and she climbs in the passenger side while I
enter the driver’s door. I start the car and take off down the dirt road, driving over one of the bodies as I swerve to miss their vehicle.
Anastasia is breathing hard, and I know she’s in shock.
“Take deep breaths. Everything will be okay,” I assure her, keeping an eye on the road.
“The main thing is we need to find a new car. This one probably belongs to them, and they tracked it to the cabin. That’s probably how those two meat-heads found us.” I glance at her as she takes a few deep breaths. “That’s it. Easy going. We’ll stop at the nearby gas station and arrange a new ride, don’t you worry.”
I drive to the gas station directly, with no detours, and thankfully no one catches up to us or tries to stop us. I pull right into the mechanic’s garage and park the vehicle.
Anastasia gets out and comes around the car, standing near me. I approach the manager, who is working on a truck in one of the bays. “Chris, I need you to strip this car for a tracking device and send it on its way.”
The manager glances up, and I nod. “I’ll pay double. Some guys are looking for this car and us.”
“I’m on it,” he says with a bit of a drawl, but he moves to our car quickly and starts taking it apart.
“Come with me,” I say gently to Anastasia, leading her out of the garage and into the gas station shop. There’s a small clothes section, mostly for touristy things. I take her over and look through the racks. “Get something more comfortable to wear. We’re going to be moving around a lot.”
“I should get a weapon,” she whispers. “Just in case.”
I shake my head and point to the clothes. “Hurry up. We don’t have a lot of time. I’ll go get some supplies to eat and drink.”
She picks out some clothes, a couple of shirts and pairs of leggings and joins me at the register. I pay the pimply teenager for the stuff we take and lead her out of the small shop and back to our car.
“Find it?” I ask as we walk in.
“Small bugger,” Chris says, wiping his hands as he finishes putting the bumper back on the car. “I’ll attach it to one of the dogs and let them loose.”
“Thanks, I owe you, man.” I reach into the kit bag and take out five grand in hundred dollar notes. “It’s clean. You won’t have issues.”
“Pleasure doing business with you,” Chris says, smiling at me and Anastasia before walking toward the back of the shop.
“You drive,” I order the Russian princess, climbing into the passenger side. “We need to get out of here before anyone catches up.”
“These guys of yours? Aren’t they afraid of your cousin or my father?” Anastasia asks as she backs out of the garage and starts down the road. “Surely your family knows them.”
“Not really, I learned long ago to establish a network of people I could use if I were ever in trouble, and that meant no one that would be loyal to my family. Only to me. Look, we’ll be on the run for a while, and you have to realize the people I choose to use will not tell Alessandro or
Ivan anything.”
She nods, glancing at the rearview, and I follow her gaze. “No one’s following. We’re fine. You’re going to drive to lower Manhattan. There’s an off-the-grid apartment there that we can use as our base. I’ve got some burner cell phones. I need to make some calls.”
She drives while I call everyone I know to ask about Mateo. I trust these people, but I still don’t tell them why I want to know the information or where I’m heading. These people owe me favors, so I’m sure they’re not going to go running their mouths. As we reach lower Manhattan, I direct Anastasia to the apartment building.
As we reach it, I tell her to stop at the intercom. I roll down the window and press my thumb against the fingerprint recognition device, and the door to the underground parking begins to rise.
Once we’re parked, we grab our things, and I lead her upstairs to the first floor. It’s an inconspicuous apartment. Definitely not one you’d think a mobster would use. It’s spacious but not huge. Two bedrooms, a bathroom, a living room, a kitchen, and a balcony.
I lead her to the guest bedroom. “This will be your room. I’ll order clothes and some food to get us settled. You can change into the touristy stuff for now. They’ll at least fit better.”
She nods. “Okay, and then Mateo?”
“I’ll trace him, see where he’s holed up now. For now, just get settled in your room and rest. I promise I’ll give you any information I find.”
“I want to help,” she says stubbornly. “I can help. I’m more resourceful than you know.”
“You need to rest. Your foot is still injured.”
“I’m tougher than I look.” She looks cute with her eyebrows furrowed.
“Change into the touristy clothes and put shoes on, and you can hang around while I work, but stay quiet,” I say with a roll of my eyes.
She nods and walks into the room. She gives me a small “thanks” before shutting the door softly.
I shake my head. Women! I go to the living room, where a little desk is set up and take out a secured private laptop from the kit bag. I open it, and the first thing I do is order us both some clothes and takeout food for lunch and dinner.
I hear her door open, and I glance over my shoulder. She’s still limping slightly as she walks. I know she’s trying to act like it doesn’t hurt.
I start making phone calls, sending emails, and scouring social media. After the two delivery people have come and gone, I finally get some information together. I swing around on my little chair to look at her as she sits on the sofa, eating her Chinese food.
“He’s hiding out in East Harlem. It’s a well-known Mexican community. He’s in the center of it, and I can guarantee that most of those people are loyal to him. If we step one foot into that area, not only are we going to stick out like a sore thumb, word will get out fast, and I’ll probably be killed, and you kidnapped again.”
“So what do we do?” she asks curiously, setting her food on the table.
“Well, we need to try and ascertain his daily travel schedule. It’ll take some time, but I can probably piece it together. We just need to ensure we catch him somewhere we can kill him without being killed or seen.” I get up from the sofa and go to the kitchen. I grab my takeaway, which is only kind of warm now, and take two beers from the fridge.
I sit one beer in front of her and sit on the armchair to her right.
“Were you there when your mother died?”
Anastasia stares into the food, and I know the answer before she quietly answers, “Yes, I was there. My father pulled me off a ride to protect me. My mother was already dead.”
“How?”