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The ride back to Otto’s went way too fast. My heart sank when I saw the sign up above. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye, but I braced myself for the inevitable. I’d just jump off the bike, give him a quick kiss, and jump in my car. Rip it off like a band-aid. It was the only way I could think to do it. The only way that would make the pain go away quickly.

When Dante slowed his bike outside of Otto’s, I felt sick with dread.

But then we both saw them at the same time, and instead of turning, Dante kept going. My heart raced as soon as I saw them. Cops. They’d blocked off the parking lot and were swarming all over Otto’s and surrounding my car. One of them was taking pictures. A huge truck from Channel Eight News was on the side of the road and there was a huge crowd of onlookers lining the street.

“What the fuck?” I muttered in my helmet, my arms wrapping tighter around Dante’s waist as he quickly turned a corner and raced out of sight.

After driving for a while, he parked the bike next to Norma’s diner and we pulled our helmets off.

“That didn’t look good,” he said.

“What the hell was that?” I asked, my voice quivering. “Why were they around my car like that?”

“I’m not sure, but we did beat up an entire bar full of bikers. The media and cops don’t usually get involved with that kind of thing too much, though.” He pulled me into his arms and stroked my back. “Listen, everything’s going to be okay. Let’s go get some breakfast and we’ll figure out what to do.”

“Yeah, sure,” I agreed, letting him lead me into the diner. As soon as we walked in, all eyes landed on us. I put my head down as the waitress led us to a booth in the back.

“You two here for breakfast?” she asked, tapping her pen on the pad of paper she was holding as we slid in across from each other.

“Yes, please,” Dante replied.

“Coffee?” she asked, snapping her gum.

“Yes, please,” he said again. She put two cups down in front of us and slowly poured coffee into them. I looked around and saw that everyone was still staring at us.

“Why is everyone looking at us?” I asked Dante after the waitress walked away.

“It’s the cut,” he dismissed. “You get used to it.”

“Oh!” I hadn’t thought of that. I took a sip of the coffee, trying to find some comfort in its warmth. “So what was going on back there?” I whispered, doing my best to ignore the stares.

“Well, those were definitely pigs.”

“But it was just a bar fight! And it happened yesterday. Wouldn’t they be gone by now?”

“Gabby,” he replied, his dark eyes growing serious. “I guess you don’t know who those bikers were. The Iron Godz are the most dangerous club on the East Coast. They’re not to be fucked with. And we fucked with them. Hard.”

“Okay. But why the cops?”

“Not sure,” he said. Was that a glimmer of worry I saw in his eyes?

“Are you afraid of them?” I asked, a ball of frazzled nerves forming in the pit of my stomach.

“Who?” he asked.

“The Iron Godz? And the cops?” I wasn’t supposed to be afraid. I was a Loprinzi. I was supposed to tough it out, remember that I was untouchable, and keep my chin up. But my gut was telling me this was not going to work out so easily.

“Hell, no,” he said with a laugh. “I can handle anything that comes my way.”

Okay, I thought, looking over at him. His confidence was reassuring but I wasn’t so sure myself. For something like this, I needed my father. There was nobody else I trusted enough to take care of this.

“I need to call my dad,” I said, looking around for a phone in the diner. Of course, I didn’t find one because nobody has pay phones anymore these days. “Can I use your cell now?” I asked Dante, just as my eyes landed on a television screen in the corner.

It couldn’t be, I thought, my stomach dropping.

“That’s me…” I whispered, the color draining from my face, as I slowly pointed at the TV, my face staring back at me. The bar. The fight. Dante and I leaving Otto’s together. It played out before my eyes in slow motion. The sound was off, but it was close enough that I could read the caption scrolling across the bottom.

“Missing mafia princess and biker boyfriend wanted for murders of two bikers…” I read, out loud.

“What the fuck?” Dante turned towards the television, then quickly turned back to me, his eyes wide with disbelief.

“Mafia princess?” he asked slowly. “What the fuck are they talking about, Gabby?” His eyes were wide with shock.

“I guess I should have told you who my dad is…”

Leonardo Loprinzi

“You find her, Leo! Find her now, dammit!” My wife, Maria, demanded. “She doesn’t have her phone, or her purse, or any money! She’s entirely at that - that - that biker’s - mercy! Did you see him, Leo? He looked like a thug! There’s no telling what he might do to her!”

“For fuck’s sake, Maria, he saved her life!” I replied. My wife’s fear was off the hook, and frankly, it was annoying as hell. Yeah, Gabriella was missing. But I had faith in my daughter. I knew what a tough broad she was. Hell, she was probably annoying the hell out of whoever she was with, truth be told. And she wasn’t one to be messed with.

“Did you see the way she fought back?” I asked Maria proudly. We stood together in the kitchen of our Howard Beach home, my wife yelling in my face the way only she is allowed to do.

If anyone else had done that, they’d be six feet under before their Ma could shed one tear.

But Maria got special privileges because she was my wife. But even she knew better than to do it when anybody else was around. I let her get away with it sometimes when we were alone. I gave her a pass this time, because I knew she was really worried about our only daughter.

Our only stubborn, bullheaded, strong-willed, rebellious daughter, that is. This wasn’t the first time she’d given me a headache, and I knew it wouldn’t be the last.

Maria poured herself a glass of red wine, taking a sip and slamming the glass back onto our imported Italian marble countertop. I flinched when I saw a chip of it break off.

There goes another grand, I thought. But what did she care? She didn’t have to do a thing for the money, she just took and took and took, while I put my ass on the line everyday for this family.

“Yeah, I saw the video,” Maria whined. “She kicked those goomba’s asses, but she’s still missing, Leo!” Her voice was grating on my last nerve, but I took a deep breath and patted her shaking hand.

“Everything’s going to be alright, Maria. She’ll be found,” I said. Maria and I had been together over twenty-five years and we’d weathered some serious storms. I had every confidence we’d find our daughter safe and sound. Because nobody fucked with a Loprinzi. Everyone in the state of New York knew

better than to lay a finger on my daughter.

“You have to find her yourself, Leo! Get out there now - I know you have connections. But I want you to find her yourself before anyone else does! You have to protect our baby, Leo!” she pulled her hand away from mine, running it through her hair, her eyes full of worry. She shook her head, staring off into the distance, and then shuddering with fear. “You,” Leo, she said pointing her long, perfectly manicured finger at my chest. “You have to find her before someone else gets to her. Who knows what the cops will do to her? Or those other bikers? Leo, go now, please!”

“Alright, Maria, alright, I’ll go,” I relented. “I’ll do this myself. I’ll take Rizzo with me.”

“I don’t care who you take, just make sure our Gabriella gets back here safe!” she demanded.

“Okay, Maria, okay,” I said, walking out of the kitchen and pulling out my phone.

The first person I called was my mistress, Adriana.

“I can’t make it tonight, babe,” I said. She whined in protest, and I rolled my eyes. For fuck’s sake.

“But Leo, we have tickets to a Broadway show tonight!”

“I know, I know,” I muttered. “We’ll go another time. Something’s come up. Family stuff,” I replied.

“It’s always your fuckin’ family, Leo,” she whined. “I’ll go with my girlfriend.”

“Look, I’ll make it up to you,” I promised, making a mental note to buy her a piece of jewelry tomorrow to shut her up.

She hung up on me.

Fucking women, I thought. You can’t live with them, you can’t live without them. Fuggedabout tryin’ to make them happy. It ain’t happening.

I dialed my phone again. I’d deal with Adriana later.

Rizzo answered on the first ring, as always.

“What’s up, Boss?” he asked, his voice full of enthusiasm.

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