Arrogant Prick: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (17 page)

T
he engine roars
as I tear down the backwoods heading toward Allie’s house. I’ve got my trunk loaded with weapons, and a bulletproof vest on. I’m ready for all-out hell, but I haven’t decided what to do.

Part of me wants to tear into his house and rip her dad limb from limb. The other part of me wants to trust in Allie’s judgment and believe that he has nothing to do with this. I’ve spent the past month living a normal life, pretending I can be happy.

Marcello and his wife have paid the price for my complacency. They’re dead, along with my family, because I wasn’t up to the task at hand. Now all that I have left is to get vengeance.

I pound my fist on the steering wheel as I tear down a straightway at 100 MPH. The car jumps at the end of a hill and lands hard on its suspension, but I couldn’t give a shit. My dad wouldn’t think that I deserve to drive a car like this.

My mind races trying to come up with a plan. I spent an hour going through the recordings I hadn’t listened to, but there was nothing. That fucker is too careful. He doesn’t discuss business in the house, and I gave up on him too early to have tracked down where he works.

The only thing that’s gone right today is I know where Enzo is right now. I picked up the sounds of him working in his basement study. So I know he’s home. The rest of the house is silent. So at least Gina isn’t home. I don’t have to worry about her being there when I do whatever it is that I have to do.

The tires screech as I make a sharp turn and the back of the car fishtails onto the side of the road. I’m close now. Time to make a decision.

“Fuck!” I slam my fist down on the steering wheel as I pull to a stop.

My mind is racing with every possibility, but I’m too full of conflicting thoughts and emotions to come to a clear decision. I’ll compromise. I won’t go in guns blazing, but I’ll be armed. And I’ll sit down and have a talk with him. I’ve always been able to spot a lie, and there’s nothing more telling than that moment when you ask someone a direct question. In that split second, their face is an open book. Before they have time to formulate a lie, the trick is to pick a question they don’t expect.

I glance at the shotgun on the passenger seat and shake my head. I’ll stick with this plan. A pistol is more weapon than I'll need to take care of the Don. Though I bet he can take a hit.

I get out of the car, parked on the side of the road and slip through the gap in the fence. A long couple of minutes later and I’m up in Allie’s room. I climb inside and reactivate the alarm. My ear bud connects to the hidden Wi-Fi in the house and I tune it to the bug in his office. I can hear faint movements in the office. He’s still downstairs.

I open up her door and sneak downstairs and head to the basement. I stare at the heavy wooden door with the security panel I’ve already hacked into. I pull my gun out, and carefully enter in the override code, waiting on the last button. I can’t help the sound of the door unlocking, so I’ll have to be ready to move in. God help me if he starts shooting.

I take in a deep breath and finish the code. The door clicks and I shoulder it open and level my gun at Allie’s father. He looks up at me, a genuine look of shock and sadness on his face. That was the fucking moment. I don’t even need to ask the question. If he had ordered the death of my family, there would be no sadness in his eyes.

He recovers from his initial shock and looks between my eyes and the gun. He presses his lips thin, waiting for me to say something, but then takes advantage of my silence. “Did you use my daughter to get to me?”

I walk into his office, closing the door behind me and fall into a chair across from his table. “No. I didn’t even know who she was when I first met her.”

“You think I ordered the execution of your family?” There’s no fear on his face. Like he knows I no longer plan on using the gun.

“Not anymore.” I engage the safety on the gun and put it on its side on the table, and slide it midway between us.

He sits up in his chair and straightens the collar on his jacket. “If my daughter didn’t love you, I’d have you killed for pointing that gun at me. You understand?”

I look him in the eyes. “Yes.”

“You know, Alessandra asked me to look into what happened to your family.” He leans in toward me. “Did she tell you?”

“She told me she would.” I say. “But I didn’t know she had.”

“I started asking around, expecting to hear what I’d heard the first time.” His stare is powerful and unnerving. “But that’s not what I heard this time.”

I remain silent.

“Word is, I’ve been killing anyone who could flip on me,” he says. He takes his laptop and turns it around to face me. “And then I see this today.”

It’s an article about Marcello’s killing. But from the Daily News.

“I imagine that’s why you're here today.” He cocks an eyebrow at me and I nod.

“Of course, I didn’t have anything to do with this.” He turns the laptop back to face him. “Another friend of mine, and a business associate. Killed in my name, but without my knowledge or authorization.”

“Do you know who’s responsible?”

“No, but I have an idea who does.” He stands up and I stand up with him. “I asked Marco to look into your family’s death when I first heard the news, and he lied to me. I mean to find out why.”

“I take it you were responsible for the deaths of Michael, Tommy and Rizzo?” he asks.

Might as well put all the cards on the table if there’s even a small chance it’ll lead me to who's responsible for my family’s death. “They were the ones who killed my family.”

“Then I should be thanking you for clearing my ranks of those traitors.” He locks eyes with me, nods and slides the gun back to my side of the table. “And now I know you’ll be able to get whatever information we need when we find Marco.”

I take the gun back and return it to the holster tucked into the back of my pants. “I’ll do whatever's necessary.”

Enzo stands up, buttons his suit, walks over to face me and cups my face in his hands. “You understand by us having this talk, and you having heard what I’ve had to say, that you'll be required to swear yourself into my family?”

I steel myself and nod. “Yes.”

“Whatever happens between you and my daughter notwithstanding.”

“I understand.”

“Good.” He takes his hands off my face and pats me strongly on the back. “And my original warning stands. You break Alessandra’s heart, and I’ll take yours.”

I grin. “I don’t have a problem with that.”

“I didn’t think you would.” He gestures for me to move ahead of him and I open the window into his office. “You bring any extra guns? I’m a felon, I can’t have any laying around for when the feds feel like doing a random sweep of the place.”

My grin grows wider and he cocks his eyebrow at me. “Yeah, I brought extras.”

As we jog upstairs my cellphone buzzes lightly in my pocket. Not loud enough to be heard, but enough for me to feel it against my thigh. I check the phone. It’s Allie’s burner.

I answer the phone as I continue upstairs. “Hey, Allie. I thought you were too busy to talk until tonight.”

“Oh my God.” It’s Sarah’s voice. She sounds like she's in a panic. Her breathing is loud and rapid. “Is Allie with you?”

“No.” I stop once I’m upstairs and Enzo comes to a stop behind me. “Slow down and tell me what’s going on.”

“I showed up late to meet her.” She’s crying now. I can barely make out her words through her whimpering. “The door was locked, so I asked Johnny to let me in. Her iPhone was smashed up on her desk and there was blood all over the bathroom. She wrote help on the sink…in blood. She’d left her purse behind and she had the burner in it. I’ve been calling all the numbers trying to get you.”

My heart starts hammering in my chest as Sarah falls apart on the other end of the phone. Enzo can see there’s something wrong from my face. He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Put it on speaker.”

I put the phone on speaker. “Sarah. Slow down. Take a deep breath and tell me everything. You need to pull yourself together and help me find Allie. Got it?”

I can hear her taking deep breaths and repeating a mantra to herself. Then she speaks, in a shaky voice. “Johnny said he saw her leaving with Marco. He said she was holding a bloody towel to her head and she said Marco was taking her to get looked at after she fell.”

A look of rage flashes across Enzo’s eyes. He looks at me and sees the matching emotion in mine. I speak through gritted teeth. “Sarah. You did really good calling me. But now I want you to go home and stay inside. Don’t call the cops, you got it?”

“Yeah.” She blubbers. “Please save her, Gio.”

“I will.” I hang up the phone. I turn to Enzo. “I have a tracker on his car, so we need to get to mine now.”

I dash for the exit and Enzo follows me. He’s not as fast as me but he’s keeping up well for a man my father’s age. He doesn’t even ask as I cut through his yard instead of going for the gate. I head straight for the gap in his fence and hold it open for Enzo to slip through.

He cocks his eyebrow at me again, ducks under the loose flap of chain-link fencing and I follow him through. My car is parked on the other side, off the road.

“I’m going to have to fix that gap in my fence,” he says as I pop the trunk to my car.

“I’ll show you the other gaps in your security after we get Allie back.”

He steps by my side, claps his hand on my shoulder and whistles as he sees what I have in the trunk of my car.

“What did you expect to find here?” He laughs. “We aren’t the Narcos in Colombia, you know?”

I shrug. “I was trained to always be ready for anything. Take what you want.” I reach into the back of the trunk and pull out another bulletproof vest. “Definitely take this.”

I grab the bag with the GPS tracker, turn it on and pull out my cellphone. It takes a too long minute for the phone to sync with the device and pull up the GPS tracker on the car. That’s the biggest problem with the device I planted on Marco’s car. They're nearly impossible to detect unless you're specifically looking for them, but they also take a while to establish a lock, and they're nearly useless when the target is moving.

I show Enzo the map on my phone and he narrows his eyes. “I know the place.” He’s already moving to the passenger seat and I get in the driver’s side and turn the engine.

The tires burn across the pavement as I tear down the road back to Brooklyn, thankful the map isn’t shown entirely in red. But something about the way Enzo said he knew the place is rubbing me the wrong way.

“There’s something about the deli you aren’t telling me,” I say.

He checks the ammo clip on the Glock he picked out of my trunk and chambers a round, and turns his fiery eyes on me. “It’s a disposal site.”

I slam my foot on the pedal and the Camaro roars.

I
struggle
against the zip ties holding my arms against the cold metal chair and I only succeed at cutting them deeper into my skin. I try to cry out again but the rag stuffed and duct taped in my mouth nearly makes me gag. I’ve looked at every corner of the deli’s back room, but there’s nothing I can use to try to escape.

I’m locked up in the pantry of a deli from what I can tell, lit only by two dim fluorescent tubes. The walls are lined with shelves and the only furniture in the room are a metal table and four lightly padded metal chairs. The ceiling is all drop tiles and there’s a loud fan in the ceiling to circulate the air.

Please Gio, save me.
Hot tears fall from my face and drip down the duct tape covering my mouth. I’d finally been pulling my life together. Found a man I love. My dad even approved of him. He might even have said yes if Gio asked him for permission to marry me. And now it’s all falling apart.

Marco is sitting across from my chair leering at me. I can’t believe I ever trusted him. There’s another guy in the room. A big-nosed guy with dark black hair and a streak of white slicked back. I’ve seen him before at one of the big parties my dad took me to, but I don’t remember his name. He barely seems to notice me.

“Try him again,” the man barks at Marco.

Marco looks up at him with his mouth twisted up. At least he’s not the one in charge of the situation. He takes his cellphone off the table and puts the phone on speaker. It rings and rings until it goes to voicemail. I gasp into the rag as I hear my dad’s voice on the line, but it’s just his voicemail message.

“He’s not picking up,” Marco says to the other guy.

“You said he’d be at home waiting up while his closest guys are out of contact working on a big heist.” He slams his hand down on the table, rattling the phone across the metal surface. “So why isn’t he picking up?”

Marco stands up. “Don’t put this on me. The people he implicitly trusts will be out of contact for another two days. I brought you his cunt of a daughter on a fucking platter. I even took care of Marcello after Michael disappeared. I’ve fucking done my part.”

The big-nosed guy glares at Marco. “Dial it again.”

Marcos breaks his stare, drops back into his seat and dials the phone again, and it drops back into voicemail.

There’s a knock on the door before he can demand that Marco dial the phone again. Marco reaches into his jacket and puts his hand on the gun while the other guy does the same and cracks the door open. It opens opposite from me, so I can’t see who it is.

“Uh…Enzo’s here for Marco,” I hear through the door.

My dad is here! He’s going to save me. Thank God. I glare at Marco triumphantly. He growls at my look, walks over, fists my hair and yanks my head back.

He leans in close to my face till I can smell the ham sandwich on his breath, and my heart jumps in my throat as I feel the cold edge of a knife against my neck. “If you make a fucking noise, I’m going to slice you open.
Capisce
?”

I blink yes, afraid to make a noise and he drops my head back down and pulls away his knife cutting shallowly into my skin. I swallow the lump in my throat, feeling the blood trickling down my neck.

The guy closes the door and turns to Marco. “Go out there and tell him to turn himself in if he wants his daughter to live.”

I can see the sweat beading on Marco’s forehead. He’s scared of my dad. He should be. There’s no way my dad will let him get away with this, and he knows it.

“What if he doesn’t agree?”

He smacks Marco on his shoulder. “That’s what your gun is for.”

Marco purses his lips, nods and heads out, closing the door behind him. I keep following the other guy with my eyes, wishing I weren't so helpless. Sarah must have called my dad after she came to the club. Which means at least she’s okay, so that’s something.

There’s another knock on the door and the big-nosed guy levels his gun and carefully opens the door a crack. Then he lets it swing wide open and my dad walks into the room with his hands up behind his head.

His eyes widen when he sees me tied up to my chair, but he’s quick to reassure me. “It’s going to be okay, princess.”

Despite the predicament I’m in, and the fact that he’s got two guns on him and his hands up behind his head, I still believe him. I watch him as they close and lock the door behind him.

My dad looks at Marco and spits on the floor. “So how long have you been answering to Alfie, you cocksucker?”

Marco reaches back with his gun and whips my dad across the face. The blow turns his head to the side, and cuts a gash across his temple to match mine, but he doesn’t fall to the ground. He just turns his head to stare Marco down.

Alfie puts his hands on my dad’s shoulders and pushes him into one of the chairs. He turns to Marco, who’s still keeping his gun trained on my dad. “Settle the fuck down, Marco, and help me with the zip ties.”

My dad sneers up at Marco as they tie his wrists and ankles to the chair. “You think you’re gonna get away with any of this? There are rules in this world, even though you’ve forgotten.”

Marco sits down on his chair and puts his gun flat on the table, keeping his hand on top of it.

Alfie pulls up the last empty chair and sits down on it across from my dad. “Shut the fuck up, Enzo, and listen to me, will ya?”

My dad barely pays attention to him as he keeps his glare leveled on Marco. “What did Alfie promise you? To make you a made man for the Santinis?”

Marco glares back at him. “Yeah, what about it? I’ve busted my ass for you for years, and you’ve never once hinted at it. I’m tired of doing all your dirty work, and not getting shit in return.” He leans up on the table and stares down at my dad. “But you know what else I’m getting in the bargain? Your princess’s cunt to do whatever I want.”

“You stupid fucking idiot,” my dad spits out. “You aren’t getting shit. I can’t believe I ever had a dumb punk like you working close to my family. When you walk into the room to be made by Don Santini, don’t be surprised when there’s a plastic tarp laid on the fucking floor.”

Alfie puts his gun on the side of my dad’s face and nudges him to face him. “Hey. Stop fucking antagonizing the kid. We adults need to talk.”

“The fuck do you want, Alfie?” my dad says tiredly.

“We need you to retire.” He leans back in the chair, holding the gun close to his body, aimed at my dad’s stomach. “And to disband your family. Split your territory and men across the remaining four families.”

My dad laughs. “And you think the other three families are just going to go along with that?”

Alfie shrugs. “That doesn’t concern me, Enzo. It’s above a capo’s paygrade, you dig?”

“Tell you what.” He nods his head toward Marco. “You shoot this son of a bitch in the cock, and I’ll think about it. How does that sound, Marco?” He smirks.

Marco bolts upright in his chair and levels the gun at my dad. “You keep fucking pushing me, and I’ll shoot you in the god damn head, you fat fuck!”

My dad just laughs. I don’t know what he’s planning, but if he's trying to rile up Marco, he’s doing a really good job of it.

Alfie stands up and glares at Marco. “Settle the fuck down, and shut up, Marco!” He turns back to my dad. “These fucking kids, you know? So hotheaded. They don’t know how to take a simple insult without starting a war over it.”

Marco glares at them both before sitting back down and Alfie continues. “I don’t think you're quite understanding your predicament here, Enzo.”

He moves his chair out of the way and squats in front of Enzo. “The families are concerned. You’ve been killing your associates left and right. Next, you killed your own crew. Including a made man without consulting the other families.”

“No one’s going to believe I had anything to do with it, Alfie.”

“That’s not the point, Enzo.” He grins. “All that matters is giving them a reason they can cling to. The extra profit from absorbing your territory is all the convincing they’ll need to put aside their doubts.”

My dad glares at him silently and my heart falls into my stomach. My dad can’t give up this easily.

“Here’s the deal on the table,” Alfie says. “You retire upstate with your good wife. We keep your daughter safe for a year. If you behave, admit to killing Michael Delluci, and cooperate with the division of your men and territories, you get her back safe and sound.”

“What the fuck is this, Alfie?” Marco jumps up from his chair. “You promised her to me.”

Alfie glares at him. “Did I just not tell you to shut the fuck up and sit down, Marco?”

“I don’t fucking care.” He comes around the table, gun in hand, a furious look on his face. “I was made promises, and I intend to see them kept.”

“Shut the fuck up and sit down, Marco.” He points back at the chair with his gun. “This is a fucking negotiation. The deal is far bigger than your fucking fetish for the Don’s daughter. You dig? Think big for once, you little fuck.”

I hear a thumping sound from the ceiling as Marco stares down at Alfie and screams, “I’m not bending on my requirements, you big-nosed fuck!” Marco looks like he’s about to snap.

Alfie stands up, putting his nose in Marco’s face. “You watch your fucking mouth; you aren’t a made man yet.”

I hear another thump, but it’s louder this time than the last, and this time everyone else seems to notice, too. Alfie and Marco turn to look at the ceiling, and suddenly my dad launches himself at Alfie’s legs. Even though he’s still tied to the chair, he still manages to knock Alfie over. Before I can realize what's happened, a gunshot blasts across the room.

I scream into my gag as Marco levels his gun at my dad’s head. “I was hoping you’d give me a reason to shoot you--”

His words are interrupted when the ceiling fan comes crashing down to the floor. My heart leaps as I recognize Gio’s tattooed arm through the dust and debris. Another gunshot blasts through the room, making my ears ring as Gio launches himself at Marco, fighting for his gun.

My dad is collapsed on top of Alfie, and he lifts up his head and brings it crashing down on Alfie’s nose with a sickening crunch. He doesn’t stop smashing Alfie’s head, just relentlessly bringing his head down over and over until Alfie's face is bloody and mangled and Alfie isn't moving anymore.

Standing over him, Marco is trying to keep hold of his gun as he struggles against Gio. Another shot fires, ricocheting off the steel door as Gio twists Marco’s hand back with a loud crack. Marco lets out a shrill scream as he drops his gun, then doubles over from a punch to the stomach. Gio knees him in the side, dropping him to the ground. He climbs on top of him, a dusty smile on his face, and smashes his fist into Marco’s face. Another punch and his jaw crunches; another, and his teeth clatter to the floor.

He kneels over him triumphantly, his chest rising with each ragged breath. He turns to me, and the rage on his face melts away and turns to relief. He steps over my father, still on his side, trying to loosen himself from his chair and kneels down next to me. He takes a knife out of his belt and cuts the zip ties off me. He carefully peels the duct tape off my face and I spit out the gag, coughing in relief. When I finally catch my breath, he grips my head in his hands, and presses his lips against mine in a fiery kiss.

He reluctantly pulls away from me, letting his eyes linger on mine and goes over to my dad, and cuts him from the chair. He tears open his shirt, and I sigh in relief as he pulls a flattened bullet from my dad’s bulletproof vest.

Gio looks at me and smiles. “He’s okay. The vest caught the worst of it.”

My dad picks himself back up off the floor groaning, and stumbles over to me and I catch him in a hug.

“I’m so sorry you got caught up in this princess,” he says, kissing the side of my face.

“It’s not your fault, Dad.”

My dad turns to Gio, puts his arm on his shoulder and pulls him in close. “You did really good, Son.”

My heart flutters at his words despite the grim surroundings.

“But I need you to do a couple more things.” He looks around at the corpses decorating the floor. He takes a card out of his wallet and hands it to Gio. “Tell the guy outside not to let anyone in the back. Then call this number and give them this address.”

Gio turns to me, and I nod. “Go, I’ll be fine.”

My dad turns to me, and wraps me in another hug. “After he takes care of that, I’m going to have him take you home. I’ll have a doctor come patch you up, princess.” He presses his forehead against mine, and I can see a tear cutting through the dust caking his chin. “I’m sorry this happened to you.”

I wrap my arms around my dad’s shoulders and kiss him on his forehead. “I’ll be okay, Dad. Gio will take care of me.”

My dad looks up at me with squinted eyes and smiles. “I know. You’ve always been a good judge of character.”