But I can’t let Riccardo see that. I can’t let anyone see that.
“Where?” I ask.
“The old warehouse on Pier 7. I’ll have my men sweep it first to make sure it’s safe and clear.”
“Okay. I’ll be there.”
I stab the End button on my screen and look up at my motherand Luna. They stare at me in silence, concern creasing their foreheads. We all have so much to lose if Riccardo is allowed to get away with this traitorous behavior. And if he’s the reason why the Russians keep trying to chip away at my resolve, well then. He’s going to experienceeverythingthat my father protected him from for all of these years.
Because I don’t have the same loyalty to my dead uncle. And I’m still fucking in charge of this family.
“You’re not going to any meeting,” Luna says. “It’s not safe. And you’re?—”
I hold up a hand. “Stop, please. I have to go. I don’t have a choice.” I stand up, squaring my shoulders even though everything in me wants to collapse. “Riccardo has been waiting for a moment of weakness. If I hide while he poisons everyone against me, I will prove every terrible thing he’s been saying.”
“Let Vincenzo handle it,” my mother says, wringing her hands together. “He’s dealt with Riccardo before.”
“This isn’t something I can delegate. The capos need to see me take charge of the situation. They need to know I’m still in control.” I pause. “Especially now. I just can’t afford to look weak right now. Not with Dad still recovering.”
“At least let me come with you,” Luna says.
“No. This needs to be handled quietly. Family business.”
My mother rises and takes my face in her hands. Her palms feel cool against my heated skin. For a second, I let my eyes drift closed so I can pretend none of this is happening, that I wasn’t just completely duped by the man I fell in love with, that I’m not under attack from within my own family. But my eyes open again, and reality still hovers over me like a dark cloud.
“You are your father’s daughter,tesoro.Whatever happens in that room, remember that. You have his strength, his mind, his ability to see through people.” Mom pauses. “Don’t let anyone make you forget who you are.”
I nod, knowing if I speak, the floodgates will open again.
I break away from my mom and Luna and head to thepowder room with my bag to do a quick repair to all the crying damage. I turn on the faucet and splash cold water on my face. I towel off and apply some moisturizer and foundation to hide the red splotches on the skin. Then I swipe some concealer under my eyes. A little blush and bronzer, and I at least look somewhat normal even though I’m still dying an excruciating death inside.
I stare at myself in the mirror once I’m finished. For the first time today, I look the part. Cold and controlled.I’mthe woman who shut down Riccardo in front of all the capos.I’mthe one who put a Russian in the hospital for messing with our organization. AndI’mthe one who is going to shut down anyone who dares cross me and tries to crush my livelihood.
The mask is in place.
I sure as hell hope it holds.
Pier 7 sits at the edge of the waterfront, a stretch of crumbling concrete and rusted metal long forgotten by the city. The dilapidated warehouse is the main structure on the pier. It’s a massive building constructed of steel and concrete. Once upon a time, it was shiny and new, but now it’s dark and dank with broken windows and graffiti sprayed all around the exterior.
Definitely the kind of place where things disappear, and no one asks questions.
With a deep breath, I park near the entrance and stare up at the building. The morning sun casts a glow over the place, illuminating every stain on the concrete, every patch of rust, every shadow that could be hiding something deadly.
My father used to bring me to places like this when I was younger. Not this pier specifically, but others like it that looked just as menacing as this one does to me now. “This is where the real business happens in our world,” he told me once. “Not in boardrooms. Not in restaurants. Here, where nobody’s watching.”
I knew he was showing me something important. The ugly truth beneath our family name. And I also knew at that moment that I wanted to create a world where the business I did was anywhere but in places like this.
But here I am.
Irony is a real bitch.
Two of Vincenzo’s men are positioned outside. They nod as I approach the entrance, and one holds the door open for me. I know these men, have known them for years. But somehow the act of respect sends chills through my blood.
I step inside the warehouse, immediately assaulted by the stench of rust, fish, and rotting garbage. My stomach roils. At least, I hope it’s just garbage. I try not to breathe in too deeply. The space is mostly empty. I walk along floors stained with decades of Christ only knows what. The ceilings are just a mess of exposed beams, the only light streaming in from the broken windows. I duck into the first room I come to. There’s a table and three chairs set up in the center of it. A single lamp sits on the table.
I twist my grandmother’s ring and look around before moving toward the table.
My skin prickles. Every instinct I have screams at me to run, to get the hell out of this place, to take a breath and figure out the next steps on my own.
