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Chapter 2
Isabella
My phone rings, and I look at it to see it’s my father and fucking ignore it. I used to be daddy’s little girl. A good girl. A virgin. All those things that I’m not anymore. Well, I’m still a virgin, but only for now.
A year under the thumb of the CIA and trying to get a read on the most dangerous crime family in the United States hardens a person, even little old me. Sure, I still cry when people die in front of me, like Marta. I would still be lost if Aria died ... or Marcel, but that’s my limit now. It is myself I am trying to save here and no one else. And it is not my dignity or my body or any of those superficial things I intend to save because I know when this is all over if I don’t fail, it is only my life I will escape with.
I chew on my pen as I go over the list in front of me detailing some of Falcone’s routines. He is a hard man to pin down and for good reason. He has been in this game for a long time and knows how to not be caught or found. But humans are creatures of habit, and there had to be some constants for Franco, especially as he got older and passed the torch to his many sons.
Sure enough, the private investigator I hired through my connections with the Clans, actually using Funar funds I might add, called me to tell me the two constants, and one is coming up. Now, I am in a hotel room in New York, registered under a fake name as I psych myself up to go and finally meet the man that I am supposed to be taking down. I have dragged my feet far too long trying to keep up appearances with the Clans and my father. I know I don’t have a lot of time left to find my in, and luckily, this man likes his women just like any other powerful sleezeball.
Every third Friday Franco Falcone goes to get a massage at a seedy looking place in China Town that I am sure specializes in much more than just loosening tense back muscles. I intend to be in the area at the right time and run into him, literally. Maybe then he will admire and remember the pretty face the FBI agents seem to think that I have that I can use to my advantage. I don’t want to suddenly show up in his life with no explanation of how I got there. That is going to blow my cover faster than anything else.
It’s bad enough I have to come to terms of the idea that virginal me, yes I am still a virgin, has to seduce this old asshole into liking me enough to let me in on his life so I can get the dirt that will dig me out of the shit pile my father buried me in.
I get up and get dressed, taking a page out of the book of Asian fashion, and put on a grey fitted suit jacket over a white button down and a tiny pink mini skirt that flares out. I look like some adult version of a Japanese school girl, even finishing it off with a small designer briefcase.
I put my hair up tight, hoping maybe I can pass for a worker in the area, maybe coming for a quick bite out of my office in Manhattan.
Taking a deep breath, I walk out the door and pretend to be someone else. I am going to be doing a lot of that now to get through this.
Manhattan is bustling as expected. I don’t know how the king and queen live here and raise children in a place like this. I have always seen myself in the suburbs in Cali, sunshine, beaches, and quiet streets, my kids riding their bikes with neighborhood kids.
I sigh, wiping my mind clean of that idea. I don’t even know if it's anywhere in reach anymore. I don’t think I am going to make it out of this with my virginity intact, and then I will be ruined for any Romanian man who might want me, even the one who I thought for one moment in that hospital might feel something after all these years.
I look down as the PI texts me, seeing that he has eyes on Falcone and his bodyguards. This is going to be fun trying to run into him even with his guards there.
I cross the street and turn the corner into China Town, and I put my cell to my ear, pretending to talk to a girlfriend. I am laughing and chatting as I barrel down the sidewalk, my eyes scanning once to make sure I am in his path. Then, I act like a dumb bimbo, flailing around “Oh my god! Really!”
Right before he makes it in front of the massage parlor I smack right into him. “Oh my god, I have to go.” I pretend to hang up my phone and tuck it in my jacket pocket before looking up at Falcone with a sparkle in my eye before looking at his bodyguards as they tense.
“I am so sorry, sir. I should have been watching where I was going. It has been a long day at work already and … I didn’t hurt you did I?” I look at the two men in suits with fear, though I have had enough training by now to at least knock them out for a time.
“No, Miss, I’m perfectly fine.” He looks to the two men with a nod, and they fall back. “I just want to make sure you are okay. Not every man would be so nice as me, but I can see you are stressed. Same here.” He points to the massage parlor and I try not to gag knowing that it is so much more than that in there.
“Oh, thanks. I’m fine. Just need some espresso and then maybe a glass of wine once I get off today.” I try to dismiss him and go around him but am both relieved and disgusted when his arm reaches out to touch my shoulder. This is my in.
“Why don’t you take my business card? A girl like you young and all that potential, maybe we can find something less stressful for you.” He winks and hands it to me.
I look down and read the name. “Thank you, Mr. Falcone.”
“Oh, please, call me Franco, Miss…?”
“Teresa, my name’s Teresa. I’ll have to think on this.” I flash him a bright smile and know that his eyes are on my ass hoping my short skirt will blow up and give him a view as I walk away.
By the time I get back to my hotel room, my phone is ringing off the hook. This time, I know exactly who it is. Z is what she calls herself, my handler, and she is pissed.
"Why the hell do I not have anything from you on Falcone yet? You have been on this case for a year. I know you've needed time for training and to go to all these damn weddings for the Clans, but this is my head on the chopping block too."
"Calm down, I made some progress today. I needed to make sure I had his routine down. I need to insert myself in his life in a way that’s not suspicious," I tell her, but the panic doesn't stop.
"That’s all fine and great, but a year is too damn long, Zugra. If I don’t have a good report from you in a week, then I will be forced to tell them to go live with all your indiscretions. There is more than just that shipment against you, and you know it. Your father’s been doctoring books and you have been alongside him for years."
"Yeah, I get it," I interrupt her. "I ran into him in China Town and got his business card. I will be using it." My phone beeps in and I look to see that it is Marcel. Interesting. "Look, I've gotta go. You'll have what you want, just chill your fuckin' tits," I tell her and hang up, switching over to Marcel.
My worry is getting the better of me that maybe something is going on with Aria. "Hello, Marcel? What’s wrong?"
"You and I need to talk." His tone is dark, and I can’t help but feel I am in deep shit.
