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Chapter Five
SALVATORE
I sit down with a scotch in hand, my leg over my knee as I sink into my couch. This is the place where I can relax and contemplate the things I have done and the things I will do. I don’t have to be just a ruthless killer or a sweet-talking businessman. I can be whatever combination I feel that I am at the moment. I can be quiet. But with the worry in my heart and now my phone ringing in front of me, I doubt that is what my night will be.
I look at the screen and know who it is before I answer. It is my guy, the tracker that Marcel wanted me to get involved with the disappearance of his sister, Aria Funar. The thing is, I am personally invested in this in a way most people around me don’t understand. I have been chasing that woman for years ever since she was old enough for me to consider. She is stunningly beautiful, both inside and out, but I have never been allowed to have her because of who I am, or rather, who I am not.
I answer the phone, my palm sweaty wondering if I will find out if she is okay or if she is somewhere that I couldn’t even wish on my worst enemy. Or dead. Which I don’t know if Marcel or me could handle.
"Yes?" I answer, anxious for the news.
"Mr. Moretti," he greets me, always with respect. He knows as well as anyone else he is at the mercy of my gun or even my hands if I have to use them instead. Even those that work directly with me fear me. It makes for a safe way of living but also makes those late nights very lonely. Not even a friend to share it with other than Marcel, who is generally busy with other tasks these days, like preparing to take over the Clan. "I have found what has happened to Aria," he continues, and I am all ears. "Baptiste has gone back on a deal with Cheng. She has been taken by him and his gang."
I suck in a breath, slamming my scotch down onto the coffee table. I don’t like this at all. They are ruthless men, the worst kind. I would even go as far as to say it makes the mafia look like Mother Teresa in comparison to their behavior. I can only imagine what she is enduring at the hand of these men, and I don’t like the thought at all. And all of it because her father fucked up. It isn’t fair. Not that life ever is, but for a woman like Aria, I wish that it could be.
"Thank you for the information, do you have an address for me?" I demand, pulling a pen from my pocket and writing down his response on the napkin that sits on my coffee table. Resourcefulness is a talent of mine. It certainly comes in handy for this business.
"Would you like me to inform Marcellus Funar also?" he asks.
"No, I think this is something I better tell him in person. As always, I appreciate your hard work and your discretion," I nudge before hanging up. It’s always good to remind employees of their place.
I sigh, knowing that I need to get my men on this sooner rather than later, and I need to make sure my name is not on this at all. I don’t want her running to me like I am her knight in shining armor all of a sudden, and I don’t want it to get back to her father either that I am the one getting her out. It just looks bad. It makes him look bad, and I don’t need to be the reason Baptiste Funar looks bad, especially if I ever stand a chance with her when this is all said and done.
I go to the men I keep in my house, the ones that are my personal security detail and make sure that no family member comes after me for revenge, and I get them to gather the rest of my men. They will be here in no time, and we will have to be smart about how we plan this rescue. Cheng is no dummy, and he is packing too. I don’t want my men to get killed in the process, or worse, Aria herself, which could easily happen with one wrong move.
I have another glass of scotch because this is about to be an awfully long night.
***
It is late when my men let Marcel into my place, and he comes and sits down next to me. I immediately make sure he gets a scotch as well. He looks worse for the wear, and I can only guess he has not been sleeping while waiting for news of his little sister. There are circles under his eyes, and he just looks bogged down with the world on his shoulders. He has not shaved in a few days either, which is not a typical look for him.
"You’re a mess." It isn’t a question I ask him, and he nods, rubbing his hands together nervously.
"I am assuming you called me here because you have news, and if you needed to see me in person, it can’t be good," he surmises as he picks up his drink to take a swig, holding it his mouth for a moment before swallowing. He can’t even look me in the eye. I am wondering if he assumes she is dead. And while that would be horrible, my personal fear is that by this point she wishes that she was.
"I assure you that she has been found and been found alive, but that doesn’t mean you are going to like where she is," I tell him, leveling with him. "You are aware of your father's deal with Cheng?" I ask him, and he narrows his eyes at me. I can tell the wheels in his head are already turning, and he suddenly hops up out of his seat angrily.
"Cheng has her? Why would he do that?" he asks, his anger clearly rising as his cheeks turn red. Marcel has always been quick to anger. Though, I have quite the outlet for mine, so I suppose me being calm is no great feat.
"Your father went back on a deal they had, and so Aria is paying the price."
Marcel sits down, clearly distraught. It is a lot to take in. His sister is in danger because of his own father. The mafia always did had some fucked-up family ties. "I have my men on it, though I don’t really want anyone to know I have my hands in this for several reasons," I tell him, trusting him with the information,. It might soothe him in some way, but he shakes his head.
"But what will become of her when she gets out of there, Sal?" he asks quietly, and I know what he means. Her worth is in her virginity just like any other Romanian woman. That is surely to be gone with Cheng getting a hold, of her. I don’t know what he will do, what claim he will try to have on her. I don’t know what condition she will be in when she gets out. But I doubt that Baptiste is going to find any joy in her from a business perspective anymore.
I shake my head, not knowing what to say. The truth would hurt right now, and there is no positive here other than that she will hopefully be alive and free soon.
"As my friend, Sal, I need you. I need you to help me," Marcel sys, completely emotional in a way I have never seen him. But he truly loves his family, especially his sister. He has not become the hardened man his father is yet.
"What is it, Marcel?"
"I want you to protect my sister. I want you to protect her for life." My eyes bore into his, and I know what he wants me to do. I will do it happily, no matter what it takes for me to succeed.
