Bianca stood, horror-stricken, wondering how her world had come crashing down. She took a deep breath, trying to assimilate her thoughts, to speak-but there was a loud pounding in her ears.
She stepped to Beth, but her sister was furious. The younger girl struck her hand away fiercely, hard, and Bianca wobbled, falling back.
“I’m calling Mom, “snapped Beth, tears running down her cheeks and she shoved Bianca aside and stomped out.
The shocked young woman could hear her sister scream,
‘You put her away in an institution because you wanted to be a wh*re, isn’t that right you disgusting sl*t?”
Bianca flew after her but Beth shut the door in her face, effectively locking her out. Bianca sank to the floor, sobbing as she heard Beth from the other side of the bathroom door. Her sister was also sobbing as she spoke and the young woman, leaning against the door, helplessly pounding her fists, heard Beth.
“…Anna kidnapped…Bianca’s fault…SHE’S BECOME A WH*RE, MOM! A FUC*ING GANGSTER’S MOLL!!!”
Beth was screaming loudly, audible to everyone in the tiny apartment and outside.
Barry had entered the room, alarmed by the commotion and taking in the situation with one glance, he broke open the door easily, his six-foot heavily built body treating it like it was mere paper.
Bianca rushed in, her hair streaming behind her but Beth was sitting on the side of the bathtub, weeping, her phone in her hands.
“Beth…baby…” began Bianca but her sister raised rage-filled eyes to her as she wailed,
“YOU DID THIS, THINK OF WHAT DAD WOULD HAVE FELT, YOU SHAMELESS BIT*H!”
And she continued, rising and coming at Bianca fiercely, “My twin sister is lost because of YOU, you dirty little…”
She never got to complete the sentence because Barry’s old lady grabbed her arms.
“Your sister did this for you and your family, you stupid cow!” shouted Sylvie, who had heard every word.
Bianca was sobbing brokenheartedly as Barry stood protectively before her.
Beth’s lips curled contemptuously.
“I’m out of here, I want to go to the school. Rather than be surrounded by wh*res and pimps,” she shouted.
Bianca sighed and stood, trying not to break down. She scrubbed a hand over her face, breathing in heavily, as she fought for control.
Her sister had made up her mind; she, Bianca, was the villain here.
‘I’ll ask O’Grady to arrange…” she began but Beth whirled around and said, sarcastically,
‘You need your pimp’s help for that?” she sniffed, folding her arms across her chest and said,
“I can get a cab for myself.”
Barry stepped in front of her.
He addressed Bianca but his eyes were on Beth.
“I’ll drop her.” He spoke in his stony voice and Beth stepped back a little.
Bianca leaned against the wall, unable to move as Beth marched away. In a matter of minutes, she heard the sound of a vehicle driving away.
Sylvie came to her and slipped an arm around her waist.
“Let’s get you a hot mug of coffee, hon,” she said softly.
As Bianca sat slouched, sipping the drink, her phone pinged. She snatched it up just as Barry re-entered, his face sombre.
“Your mother has been hospitalised. She’s had a breakdown,” he said quietly and Sylvie came around, her arms around Bianca as she held the young woman who was sobbing brokenheartedly.
Tara Delano Lord was in the hospital with old Beatrice and Melissa Lord. The young woman was heavily pregnant and was beaming. Twins, the doctor had said and her husband, Jack Lord had been grinning from ear to ear at the news when they had first seen the ultrasound.
Naturally, her own parents were over the moon and the Mafia Don had held her to his chest, his face buried in her curls as he growled,
“Ah, Tara, girl.”
Now she settled down after the monthly check-up she had come for, with old Beatrice to accompany her. Melissa Lord had insisted that she wanted to come along and no force on earth could stop her!
Of course, the mandatory security men were also about but Tara sat back in the chair happily.
Suddenly, just as the doctor called her into his room, she noticed a wan-looking, olive skinned young woman being accompanied by a biker and his woman, entering the hospital. Tara frowned. She knew the woman; she had seen her once before, hadn’t she?
She forgot all about the woman till they were leaving. Then she saw the ghastly pale-looking girl again, for she was barely in her twenties, the girl with the deep brown hair in an untidy braid.
Bea was clucking her tongue as she said something about mobsters sharing women. Melissa, who had joined them looked around and sighed,
“So young…she looks so unhappy!”
It clicked immediately. Tara smiled, she had seen the girl on the day of the fight, which had been between some acquaintance of Claude’s and another huge fighter.
The girl had been well-dressed and glowing. She had been the one being ‘shared ‘by the two Mafia men, the Irishman and the suave other blonde guy.
But now, the girl was sobbing, leaning on the biker’s gal. Tara Delano was a woman with her heart in the right place.
Without another thought, she walked to Bianca Cruz and said, sympathetically,
“What’s the matter?” she said, stepping forward, her grey-blue eyes warm with compassion. Beatrice sighed and mumbled something about Proserpina and her strays and how it ran in the family.
Liam O’Grady was fidgeting.
Along with his brother he had been summoned to the offices of the Big Man himself and O’Grady was almost beside himself. St Just was also nervous.
The Mafia Don, Lucien Delano had agreed to help them.
He had already contacted some bigwigs but he wanted a word with them and had summoned them to his offices.
St Just glanced at his phone as it began to ring and O’Grady felt his phone vibrating. But then, the man who had asked them to wait in the room outside the Boss’ office, stepped out.
“he’s free. You may go in.” And he added, his face austere,
“Please turn off your phones.”
O’Grady decided he would attend to the call later. This was big and he had no intention of annoying the GOAT, Lucien Delano.
He was the man who ran the mobs on this side of the Coast with an iron fist, a Godfather in every sense and he had the clout to make or break you.
No Sir, he thought as he walked forward, his brother beside him.
Whoever had called, could wait; he would pick up the call later.