Dear His black T-shirt had stuck to his skin from sweat and his arms were covered with tattoos. Without the suit and his cool demeanor, the man was pure danger. There was nothing controlled about him anymore. Everything about him screamed death. My heart was pounding in my chest as I waited for him to turn around and discover me. Would he have killed me too? He wouldn’t have. He couldn’t. My family’s status still had to count for something, right? But he left the room without another glance at the man he had killed, or at the closet I had hidden in. Only when he was gone and I no longer heard his footsteps did I dare to breathe. And then a new fear took over. Where was my father and what was happening to him? What about my mother and Thalia? I had to go find them, even though every fiber in my body was screaming at me to stay where I was. We had to stay together, but leaving my hiding place was a huge risk. I looked again at the dead body in the middle of the room. Was this also our fate? Then a more hopeful thought crossed my mind. Perhaps we would be spared. It was no surprise that Camorra soldiers, like Growl, would kill Bratva members, their arch-enemies. Maybe there was a way to convince everyone that the Russians were not there to protect us, but to kill us. Screams and gunfire rang out below. I heard a familiar voice, my father’s voice, but it was not among the screams, nor T alia’s or my mother’s. They were probably still hiding in the master bedroom. I closed my eyes. I was not used to this world, even though I had grown up surrounded by people in it. But I had always only skimmed the edges of the nastiness my father was involved in. Now that I had been thrown in headfirst, I wasn’t sure how to act. Waiting like a rat in a trap was not the answer. At some point they were going to search the rooms thoroughly, so I didn’t want to make it easy for them. I stood up and slowly opened the door, then went out. Although I knew it, I squatted down next to the Russian and pressed my fingers to his throat. He was still warm but had no pulse. I thought about doing CPR but then noticed the way his neck was twisted and pushed away. A violent shiver ran through my body and for a moment I was sure I was going to have a panic attack, but the sound of voices brought me back to reality.
I stood up, my gaze falling on the knife the Russian had dropped during his struggle. I was about to pick it up when I was reminded of the words of the self-defense instructor who had given a weekend seminar at our school, “A weapon you cannot control is another advantage to your enemy.” I had no doubt that I would be disarmed in no time. I had never learned how to fight with weapons, or how to fight in general. My friends and I had not taken the self-defense seminar very seriously . Now I wished I had. But we were so busy peeking at our instructor that we hadn’t had time for anything else. How much time had passed? Talia shouted from somewhere in the house, and I began to move without thinking. I stormed out of the room. I wasn’t sure how to help her, but I knew I had to reach her. I didn’t go very far, though. I bumped into someone, my temple hitting an emergency lane. My vision turned black and I staggered backward, panting.
I fell to my knees. Pain shot through my legs from the impact. After a moment, I looked up and found myself staring at the man he had killed right before my eyes, the man who had frightened and fascinated me since our first meeting. He was even taller up close and there was a long, faded scar that went all the way to his throat. Growling. Always growling. My fascination gave way to nothing but fear when his eyes met mine. At that moment he did not seem human. A killer, a monster, nothing human in his expression, or in his eyes, or in him. He grabbed my arm and abruptly pulled me to my feet. My vision wavered again.
“Take her to the others,” he croaked. That voice, so deep and rough, made me shiver. Another man grabbed me by the arm and led me away. I cast another glance over my shoulder, but Growl, the man with the scar and without mercy, was gone. I paid almost no attention to my surroundings and almost fell down the stairs when my captor dragged me downstairs until we reached the living room where father, mother, and T alia were already gathered . Father knelt on the floor in front of Falcone, who was wearing a pinstripe suit and a white shirt with a high collar. T alia and mother were standing a few steps away, looking as terrified as I was. I was pushed toward them, and mother immediately wrapped one arm around me. The other was already holding T alia. I cast a questioning glance at mother , but she was watching Falcone with terrified eyes. Finally, I turned toward him as well. He had been creepy at his party, but today he looked really scary. Benedetto Falcone, Dad’s boss and head of the Las Vegas mob, was in our house, and the look in his eyes made my stomach chill. That he was in our living room was a horrible sign. It could only mean that Dad had made a big mess. And the fact that Dad was sweating profusely only confirmed my worries. Somewhere in the house I could still hear the telltale sounds of a brutal fight. I shuddered. The men gathered in this room all seemed to have come for blood. The dead man in the corner and upstairs in Thalia’s bedroom did not seem to be enough. Heavy footsteps descended the stairs, and moments later Growl sneaked in. His hands and forearms were covered in blood. I wasn’t sure if it was his, but I doubted it. Falcone looked in his direction. “Everything all right, Growl?” he asked with mild curiosity, as if he already knew the answer and I assumed he did. All the stories I had heard whispered flashed through my mind. Growl was invincible. The man in front of me that night had little to do with the ‘man I had seen at Falcone’s party. At the time Growl was in disguise. While others had to wear masks, that suit and clean look had been his, but underneath lay the same monster. Now there was no longer any doubt about who or what he really was. The best soldier in the ranks of the Las Vegas Camorra, and a monster. That’s what people always said behind his back, and now I could see it, too. He was an emotionless fighting machine, a brutal hand of Benedetto Falcone. “It’s all right,” Growl said with the deep rumble that was his voice. For the first time I could see the long scar around his throat. His vocal cords had been injured by the accident that had given him the long scar around his throat. Growl should not have survived such an injury, but somehow he had, and perhaps it had turned him into the monster he was now, or perhaps he had survived only because he was a monster. Falcone turned away from his soldier and Growl faded into the background. I wasn’t sure how he had managed it; a man with his size and aura shouldn’t have been able to blend in with his surroundings so easily that you forgot he was even there. That was probably one of the skills that made him such a feared fighter. Falcone approached Father, forcing him to bend his head back. “I hear you’ve been busy these past few months,” Falcone began in a pleasant drawling accent that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. His smile was wicked and malicious.
He promised retribution. Father swallowed, but said nothing. Why did he say nothing? “How much of my money did you keep for yourself, Brando?”
Falcone asked, still in that horribly pleasant voice. My stomach clenched. I could not believe that Father had robbed his Chief. He would not have been so stupid. Everyone knew what happened to people who got into trouble with Falcone. Falcone’s smile widened and he gave a little nod toward one of his men, who immediately went out and returned moments later, with Cosimo at his heels, impeccably dressed as usual. What was he doing there? Perhaps he would vouch for Father. But Father whitened at the sight of my future husband and I realized that my hope was in vain. Father seemed to want to say something but remained silent. I tried to meet Cosimo’s gaze, but his gaze did not seek me once. Why was he ignoring me? We were practically engaged; our engagement party was set for the new year. Shouldn’t he have taken care of me? He was looking at Father with an expression that made my stomach turn. This was going to end badly. “Why don’t you tell me again what you told me a few days ago?” asked Falcone to Cosimo, never taking his eyes off Father. “After we had reached an agreement on the engagement with his daughter, Brando came to me and asked if I wanted to earn some extra money. He told me about the agreement he had with Bratva and that he was taking money from you.” Dad didn’t say anything. I wanted to shake him, I wanted to make him deny Cosimo’s outrageous claims. With every second he didn’t, my hopes for a merciful conclusion to that evening faded. I tried to meet Cosimo’s gaze again, still hopeful, and when he finally looked in my direction, my heart sank. There was no emotion in his eyes. He would not be my knight in shining armor today. Falcone turned toward my mother with a shark-like expression . My mother stiffened but held her head high. She was a proud woman; one of the things I most admired about her. I feared that Falcone might enjoy breaking her. He was that guy. He approached Mom and finally Dad got in on the action. “He doesn’t know anything. My family is not involved in any of this. They are innocent.” His voice resounded with fear and alarm. Seeing his terror, hearing it, terrified me to no end. This was not a game. Talia looked at me again for help. God, and how I wished I knew how to help her, how to help my family, but I was useless. Falcone stopped right in front of my mother, closer than was socially acceptable. Mother did not retreat, although most people would have done so under his gaze, and I hoped I would have the same strength if Falcone had confronted me. He put his hand to her throat, and for a crazy moment I thought he was going to strangle her. Dad gestured to get up but Falcone’s man pushed him back down. Falcone tightened his fingers around Mom’s necklace. “But they are reaping the fruits of your betrayal, aren’t they ?” Dad shook his head. “I didn’t buy that necklace with that money…” He interrupted himself, with a look of pain on his face . That was a guilty plea if I ever heard one. I wanted to cry. Dad had indeed stolen from the Mafia. That meant his death, and perhaps ours as well.
Falcone was not known for his kindness. “No?” said Falcone with mock curiosity. He snatched the necklace from Mom’s throat. She gasped and gasped, one hand flying up to touch her skin. When she withdrew her fingers, they were bloody. The gold chain had cut her. Then she pointed to T alia’s earrings. T alia took a step back. “What about those?” She extended her hand toward an earring. “Leave her alone,” I said before I could stop myself. Father and mother stared at me as if I had lost my mind. Falcone turned slowly toward me, squinting his eyes.
He turned away from T alia and came toward me. It took everything to hold my position when all I wanted to do was run as fast as I could. I wore no flashy jewelry that she could use against me, or my father, but I knew she would not protect me. His cruel eyes seemed to pierce me to the core. I tried not to show my revulsion and fear. I wasn’t sure I could do that. I had no experience in facing real evil. “You are brave, aren’t you?” said Falcone. I had a feeling it was not meant as a compliment. I waited for him to do something to me, to punish me for my insolence, but he merely looked at me before turning on his heels and going back to Father. Somehow his leniency worried me. It made me think that maybe he had something worse in mind for me later. It wasn’t over. “I wonder if you really thought you could get away with it , Brando?” asked Falcone. He touched Father’s shoulder in a gesture of mock friendship. “I’ve always made more money than any of your other managers. I’ll work for free as long as you want. I will compensate you, I swear.” “You will compensate you?” repeated Falcone. ” You betrayed me. You robbed me and gave my money to those dirty Russians. My enemies. How are you going to compensate me ?” “I will do anything,” Father said. Falcone touched his chin in contemplation. He looked as if he had rehearsed the move countless times in front of the mirror. “There is something you can do for me.” Father nodded enthusiastically, but I was not so optimistic. The look in Falcone’s eyes did not bode well. Falcone pulled a gun from the holster under his jacket and pointed it at Father’s head. “You can die .” He pulled the trigger. I shouted, stepping forward to help Father, as did Mother, but our guards held us back. Talia screamed, a high-pitched sound that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. But father did not fall. He was unharmed. There had not been a bullet in the gun. I shivered, my emotions going from shock to relief. Father closed his eyes for a moment. Then he looked up at Falcone. There was definitely relief in his gaze but also trepidation.
Falcone smiled. “But first we need to know everything you know about the Russians and everything else that could hurt my business, don’t you agree?” Falcone did not wait for his father’s answer; he pointed to Growl. “Talk to him. And make it quick. I have better things to do.” Growl did not hesitate.
He grabbed his father by the arm, lifted him up and dragged him into the adjacent dining room. Mother, Talia and I were pushed into a corner and had to wait, listening to father’s moans and muffled cries. Talia pressed her palms against her ears and closed her eyes. Mother tightened her grip on both of us. I wanted to plug my ears so as not to hear the sounds of father’s torture, but if he had to endure the pain, at least I could endure this. In the next room, silence fell. Worry gnawed inside me. What if the silence meant that father had lost consciousness? Or worse. The door creaked open. Mother stiffened. Father was led inside by Growl. He could barely stand and without the other man’s steely grip Father would have fallen. Falcone rose from his chair. “All done?” Growl nodded. He led the father to the center of the room, then let him go. The father fell to his knees. Growl blurred into the background again as Falcone stood in front of his father. “You’ve disappointed me a lot, Brando. It’s a shame, really. You should have really thought about your family before you decided to screw me over.” My father coughed, then gasped. “Don’t…
Don’t punish them for my…” Falcone did not give him a chance to finish his sentence. He turned his back on my father. “Growl,” he said. Growl stepped forward, waiting for orders. He was going to kill my father; there was no other choice. “You did well, Growl.” Falcone’s lips opened wide. “That’s why I have a gift for you.” Growl stood motionless, dripping with blood and sweat, his eyes cold and empty, as if there was nothing behind them, a dark void consuming everything around. I shuddered. I didn’t remember his look being so horrible at the party.
Killing and maiming must have brought the monster to the surface. My father began to shake his head. “You can’t!” I gasped. Growl barely cast a glance at him, but then his eyes settled on me and did not move. God in heaven, have mercy.