out of the five cash houses that have been raided by Franco, Mr Bianchi?” I asked the Cosa Nostra soldier sitting across from me as I scrolled through the information Arturo provided on the iPad.
5’11. Thirty-one years old. Child legacy, meaning he came from a long line of men who’d worked for the family: his father, uncle, brother, great-grandfather.
There was nothing alarming about him. No red flags I could see on his file. Apart from his attitude, that is. But that wasn’t surprising, considering all the men I’d interviewed before him were exactly the same. They were all rude, obnoxious and downright dickish.
It was now 7 p.m. and he was the last soldier I had to talk to. I’d gone through the list of men Arturo gave me within a few hours, talking to each one and picking at their story. Based on the evidence in front of me and their responses to my questions, I was inclined to side with Arturo and Illayana. I didn’t believe any of them betrayed the Cosa Nostra. Not actively, anyway.
It hadn’t been a particularly enjoyable time, I’ll admit. Every single one of them weren’t happy to be questioned by an outsider. A woman. They looked right through me, talked like I wasn’t even there. Some of them even completely ignored me and tried to talk to Nikolai instead, who was standing behind me the whole time like a bodyguard. Or Vincenzo, who was barely paying attention, staring at his phone. It was as if a woman in charge was ludicrous to them.
Had we been home, and I was dealing with Bratva soldiers and not Cosa Nostra ones, we’d be having a much different conversation. One where I let my blade do all the talking.
But as much as I was dying to put these men in their place, I couldn’t. I was a professional, there to do a job and help my best friend. I couldn’t go around seriously injuring or maiming every soldier who spoke disrespectfully to me. Not then and there. The day would come though.
“Mr Bianchi?” I pushed, staring the man down.
He had a slim frame and dark brown eyes that were glaring at me like I’d just gravelly insulted him by addressing him.
“What?” he barked in a tone filled with contempt. I had to work hard not to leap across the table and shove my knife down his throat.
“You visited some of the cash houses raided by Franco, correct?”
“So? Lots of us did. It’s our job.” He muttered something under his breath in Italian and Nikolai growled behind me.
I wasn’t fluent in Italian, so I had no idea what he said, but based on the anger I could feel radiating from Nikolai, it wasn’t anything good.
“Yes, it is your job. And surely you can admit how strange it is that Franco has been able to find the locations of those houses within hours of their set-up?”
“I don’t have to admit a damn thing, and I certainly don’t have to sit here and be questioned by you,” he sneered, jumping to his feet.
Vincenzo snapped to attention like a dog who just heard the word “treat”, his whole body stiffening. He stepped forward, as if preparing to intervene.
I stood, holding a hand up to stop him. “That’s fine. If you want to leave, you’re welcome to.”
He gave me a smug look, like he’d just won some battle between us.
I turned to Vincenzo. “Are you able to inform Arturo that Rocco Bianchi is unwilling to answer my questions, please?”
Vincenzo smirked, bowing his head slightly. “Of course, Miss Andreeva.” He managed to make it one step before Rocco spoke, his voice laced with panic.
“Wait! No. Don’t.” He huffed out an annoyed breath before plopping back into his seat.
“Fantastic,” I said brightly, making my way around the table, my finger dragging along the surface behind me as I walked. “Can you tell me what exactly your duties are at the cash houses?”
“It’s my job to collect the cash from the dealers and drop it at the houses. I’m barely in there for longer than ten minutes.”
“I see. And how many dealers are you responsible for?”
“I handle the lower east side. So roughly twenty to twenty-five dealers.”
“You meet with them all personally?”
“Yes.”
“How often?”
“Once a week.”
“At the same place? Same time?”
“Yes.”
I nodded, hopping up onto the table to sit down. I’d changed into a different outfit before leaving the apartment, since my scuffle with Nikolai had left me soaking wet. In more places than one.
But I wasn’t going to think about that because if I did, I wouldn’t be able to focus. It was hard enough being in the same room with him, feeling his eyes follow me wherever I went.
Even though the black pencil skirt I was now wearing went down to my knees, it still drew Rocco’s attention when I crossed my legs, his eyes snapping to my calves and back.
“So it’s safe to say you have a bit of a routine?”
“Uh..yeah, I guess.”
“Have you ever noticed anyone following you while you’re doing your collections?”
“No.”
“You’re positive?”
He scowled. “I know how to spot a tail.”
“I’m sure you do.” I dropped just enough condescension into my voice to piss him off. It worked, his jaw clenching. “Have you ever met Franco?”
“No,” he answered immediately without a single shred of hesitation. But the slight shift in his posture when I asked the question made me suspicious.
“Never? Not once?”
“Are you deaf, as well as stupid? I said no.”
Touchy, touchy.
“Do you believe the rumours going around that there’s a rat in the Cosa Nostra?”
“I haven’t heard any rumours, and even if I did, I wouldn’t believe them. You’d have to be a fucking idiot to betray them.”
“What about Diego? He stole over $50,000, then cut and ran.”
“That right there is the perfect example. You heard about what they did to his body?”
Oh, yeah, I’d heard alright. Anyone even remotely connected to the life had heard what happened. Diego was one of the men who tried to rape Illayana when Nero, the former Don of the Chicago Outift and Franco’s brother, had kidnapped her. She killed him before he got the chance, so you’d think that’s where his punishment would have ended. But it didn’t. Not by a long shot.
Arturo skinned him. He sliced the flesh right from his bones from head-to-toe. Then, he cut out his tongue and his eyes before chopping off his head and leaving the pieces right in the middle of Central Park, artistically arranged like some serial killer madman.
After his body was found, Arturo leaked an anonymous story to the press, saying he’d been killed as retaliation for betraying the wrong people. Of course, no one knew it’d all been done post-mortem. Only the people who were there that day knew that. Arturo wanted others to think it had been done while he was alive. It was more terrifying that way. Talk about sending a message.
“He was stupid enough to steal and he got what he deserved.” Rocco squared his shoulders, his chest puffing out with what I was sure was pride. “Four generations of Bianchi men have worked for the De Luca family. I’d give my life for them. I’d kill for them. I’d do anything they ask of me, even sit here and have my honor questioned by a woman who has no business being involved in this life. Arturo is my Don. He pays my wages, takes care of me and my family. He treats us with respect, despite the stain of my younger sister. If he hadn’t killed Diego, I would have done it myself, because that fucker didn’t deserve to live after betraying the Cosa Nostra.”
I glanced over my shoulder at Nikolai, my brows raised slightly. Rocco spoke with such passion, such devotion to Arturo and his family. I found it hard to believe he would ever do anything wrong against them.
Nikolai shrugged, the first movement he’d made since these interviews began. He’d done quite well with not interfering, which was a shock. Especially when some of the soldiers started talking shit, saying disrespectful and derogatory things. I’d expected him to step in after the first insult, but true to his word, he was letting me handle it. I appreciated it.
“Okay.” I hopped off the table, running a hand down my front to straighten my clothes. “That’s all I have for you. You can go.”
Rocco hesitated, his eyes darting to Vincenzo before moving a single muscle, as if he was searching for permission. Like me saying the words wasn’t enough for him.
You can’t kill him. You can’t kill him.
Vincenzo said nothing, an awkward silence quickly filling the room. Rocco cleared his throat and got to his feet, buttoning up his suit jacket. He bowed his head respectfully to Vincenzo in farewell and turned, preparing to leave.
“Think you’re forgetting something there, Rocco,” Vincenzo warned.
“Boss?”
He didn’t say a word, staring the man down, letting him figure out the issue for himself. With a begrudging sigh, Rocco faced me, bowing his head the slightest bit before stomping out of the room.
“He’s usually not so rude,” Vincenzo commented, frowning in thought. “Wonder what’s gotten into him.”
“The same thing that’s gotten into all the others.” Women were nothing but trophies to be paraded around in the Cosa Nostra. He didn’t feel I deserved his respect, so he didn’t want to give it. “I appreciate what you did, but I would have preferred you not to interfere.”
“I know when you asked me to stay out of it, I agreed—which, by the way, I still don’t entirely understand—but I couldn’t allow that. It took everything in me not to put him—or any of them, for that matter—in their place when they spoke to you so rudely. You’re here as a guest, conducting work for us. That entitles you to a certain level of respect.”
“Agreed,” Nikolai grunted.
I sighed, picking up my iPad. “Ordinarily, I’d agree too, but this is a different situation. Your soldiers think women have no place in business, and the only way that will change is by showing them exactly what we’re capable of.”
Illayana was well on the way to achieving that already. She’d told me at Arturo’s party how she had to punish several soldiers for disrespecting her. A punch to the face here, a well placed kick there. As Mrs Don, she had the authority to do that.
“Having a man jump to my defense every time someone insults me undoes all the hard work Illayana is trying to do,” I finished, putting my iPad in my handbag and draping it over my shoulder.
“Okay, I see your point.” Vincenzo opened the wide double doors of the interrogation room and led us out. “What are your thoughts on him anyway? Rocco? Do you think he could be working against us?”
“No.” That, I was confident in. “He cares too much about the Cosa Nostra to ever do anything harmful to it. But, he’s definitely hiding something.”
“Really? Like what?”
“I don’t know. He’s hiding it.”
Vincenzo looked to Nikolai as he walked us down the hallway towards the front door. “Do you agree?”
“Yes,” was all he replied with.
Vincenzo paused in the foyer, waiting as if he expected Nikolai to say more. When he didn’t, Vincenzo shook his head. “You don’t talk much, do you?”
“Depends who I’m talking to,” Nikolai grunted.
“Oh, it’s like that, huh?” he laughed softly.
Nikolai didn’t bother talking to people he didn’t like. He would reply with the basics: “Yes.” “No.” “Fuck off.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll grow to like me.”
“I highly doubt it,” Nikolai replied plainly, his face conveying his absolute boredom with the entire conversation.
“You will. Everybody does,” he winked. “Come on, I’ll walk you guys out,” he said, heading towards the door.
“Actually, Illayana asked me to grab something from her room.” I put on a bright smile, acting completely innocent. Nikolai glanced at me. His face didn’t change, staying exactly the same, but I could see the questioning look in his gaze.
Vincenzo didn’t suspect a thing, shrugging a shoulder. “Whatever. I’ll show you where it is.” He led Nikolai and I up the circular staircase until we reached the top floor, stopping in front of a set of double doors. “This is their room. Just don’t touch any of Arturo’s shit. He gets pissy about that kind of thing.”
“Got it. We’ll meet you downstairs.”
Vincenzo frowned slightly. I kept the smile on my face and he eventually shrugged, walking off. My smile dropped the second he stepped out of view. I gripped Nikolai’s hand, rushing back towards the stairs. “Come on.”
“What are you—”
“Shh.” I peeked over the railing, just catching a glimpse of Vincenzo stepping off the last stair and into the foyer. Taking light, quick steps, I raced down to the second floor, dragging Nikolai behind me. I turned right, went straight to the third bedroom and rushed inside, closing the door behind me.
“Quick, find the light switch.” I felt along the wall when light suddenly flooded the room.
“There. Now will you tell me what’s going on?” Nikolai asked, hands on his hips.
“No time. Just keep watch.” Blinking rapidly to adjust to the sudden light, I looked around the room.
It was as grand as you’d expect from the Don of the Cosa Nostra: four-poster bed, ornate gold oil paintings on the walls, expensive mahogany furnishings.
There were slight feminine touches, which reassured me that I was in the right room: make-up on the dresser, heels on the floor, pink clothes on the bed.
There were only two women staying in that house, so I was fairly confident I was in the right place. But just in case, I did a more thorough check. Any doubt was squashed when I glimpsed the photo frame sitting on one of the bedside tables. A photo of Gabriella with her parents. Gotcha, bitch.
I reached into my handbag and pulled out a pair of black latex gloves, snapping them on. I pulled out the small ziploc bag holding the leaves of poison ivy next, carefully taking them out.
Nikolai watched me with calculating eyes as I moved about the room, rubbing the poison ivy onto everything I could. I lifted up the blankets, smearing it into the sheets.
The pillow was next, and then I moved onto the dresser, opening the first drawer. It was filled with lacy underwear and bras. Perfect. Taking them out one by one, I ran the poison ivy through the inseam of each undergarment.
That evil, vindictive side of me reared its beautiful head, making me feel all giddy inside.
This will teach you to flirt with my best friend’s husband, you bitch. I loved a little payback.
“Tati,” Nikolai hissed, his ear pressed against the door. “Someone’s coming.”
Fuck.
I shut the drawer and quickly put the poison ivy back into the ziploc bag. Rushing to Nikolai’s side, I took off the gloves and stuffed them into my handbag. The click-clack of high heels was unmistakable. We were going to get busted. An idea popped into my head, and before I had the chance to talk myself out of it, I gripped Nikolai by the lapels of his suit jacket and slammed him up against the wall, sealing my lips to his. He didn’t miss a beat, kissing me back with earnestness, as if this had been our plan all along—to find a room to fuck in. His hands moved down and grabbed my ass tightly, squeezing with just enough pressure to make it sting. Then he lifted me up, wrapping my legs around him. A deep, masculine groan rumbled down his throat, one that set my pussy on fire.
God, he tastes so good.
His tongue was soft and he moved it well, like he was trying to fucking devour me.
One touch was all it took. It was like throwing kerosene onto a fire. We were going at each other as if it was the very first time. Biting. Kissing. Fucking dry-humping, rubbing up and down.
I was vaguely aware of the door opening. To be honest, I should have been paying more attention, considering we were just doing this as a cover. But the moment his lips touched mine, all thoughts just vanished from my mind. All I could focus on was his body against mine.
“Ahhh! Who the fuck are you?!” the shrill voice of Arturo’s ex screamed.
Nikolai and I didn’t stop, ignoring her completely. I’d like to say it was to sell the ruse, but that’d be a bold face lie.
It was because I didn’t want to stop.
Our kiss turned feral, our teeth clashing, hands digging deep into each other’s skin. My skirt was stretched up and I was wearing the thinnest thong I owned, so I could feel everything as Nikolai moved me, making me grind my pussy down against his hard stomach.
“Fuck,” I moaned into his mouth. Pleasure zinged up my spine.
“What the hell are you doing in here?!”
Nikolai ripped his mouth away and I literally whined, trying to bring his lips back to mine. “What the fuck does it look like?” he snarled, glaring at Gabriella.
She took a step back at his viciousness, visibly scared. It turned me on even more. I loved it when he got all growly.
He kissed up my neck, biting and nibbling at my skin. “Stay and watch if you want. Tati doesn’t mind, do you, love?”
Gabriella gasped in outrage, her face turning bright red.
I laughed. “You think Mrs Vanilla over here could handle watching us?” I moved my hips faster and didn’t even try to fight the moan falling from my lips.
“Get out of my room!” she yelled.
“We’re borrowing it right now. Can you come back later?”
Vincenzo stepped into view, shocked as all hell to see what was going on.
“Vinny! Look what they’re doing! Stop them!”
“Uh—” he was confused, that was blatantly obvious. Confused how we ended up in Gabriella’s room when he took us to Illayana’s. “Right. Come on, you two. I’ll find another room for you to fornicate in.”
“But this one has an audience,” I whined, dropping my feet back to the ground.
“You’re disgusting,” Gabriella hissed.
“I’m already angry you interrupted us,” Nikoali growled. “Don’t test me by insulting my woman.”
“It’s my bedroom!”
“There, there, darling. It’s alright.” I patted Nikolai on the chest and then interlocked our fingers, leading him away. “You know where to find us if you want to learn a thing or two,” I winked, walking out, followed by Nikolai and Vincenzo.
Gabriella slammed the door shut behind us.
There was a moment of silence and then I burst into laughter. Nikoali chuckled softly, which was about the equivalent of a fit of giggles from him.
“Do I even want to know what you two were really doing in there?” Vincenzo asked, raising his brows.
“Nope. You don’t wanna know.”
“Didn’t think so,” he laughed softly. “ I don’t like her anyway, so it’s no sweat off my back. Neither does Arturo. He was about to get rid of her but Illayana told him not to.”
“Really? Why?”
“No idea. Something about how she’s got something planned for her. I dunno. Come on, let’s go. I’ll personally escort you to your car, since the two of you clearly can’t be trusted roaming the house on your own. Wouldn’t want Arturo to come home and see you guys fucking on the stairs. I wouldn’t mind the show though,” he winked.
