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“I don’t have that much money,” I say, the panic I’m feeling tightening my words.
“Right. Stathoulis took everything when he killed your grandfather and uncle,” Mr. Parisi says. “Viktor Vetrov held you captive for three years. Why did he let you go?”
The sudden change in conversation makes me pause.
There’s an unspoken peace treaty between the Cosa Nostra and the Priesthood. One wrong word can start a war.
I choose my answer carefully but stick to the truth. “Viktor promised me my freedom when I turned twenty-one.”
“Why?” Mr. Parisi’s eyes narrow on me. “The head of the bratva isn’t known for showing mercy.”
My mind races while my gut tells me to keep quiet about the relationship I built with Viktor.
God, I’m so glad I didn’t tell Alissa anything.
I go with the only acceptable answer I can think of. “Viktor grew bored of me. He told me to get out of his city. I only got to take my clothes. I have nothing else. Until I find a job, I can’t pay you back.”
Booming laughter comes from Mr. Greco. “What kind of job can the whore of the bratva get? You’ll never be able to pay us back.”
Desperate to escape this dire situation, I give Mr. Parisi a pleading look. “I didn’t know what my family did. I’ll leave New York immediately.”
He shakes his head. “That’s not how the Cosa Nostra works, Miss Manno. Youwillrepay the debt.”
How?
If I suddenly ask Viktor for so much money, he’ll want to know what changed my mind, and he’ll see straight through any lie I try to tell him.
You also told him to go to hell less than an hour ago.
My mind is flooded with panic, and I can’t think of a single thing to say.
Finally, I whisper, “I need time.”
Mr. Parisi watches me with a sharp gaze. “I’ll give you the same amount of time I gave your grandfather. Twenty-four hours.” He smiles, but it only makes him look more threatening. “Just remember, there are no other Mannos to kill. If you don’t pay, it’s your life we’ll take.”
Dear God.
My mouth is bone dry, my heart fluttering fearfully in my chest.
What am I going to do?
Mr. Parisi gestures to the door. “Go wish Alissa happy birthday, then make up an excuse and leave. I don’t want you associating with my daughter.”
My legs are numb, but I force myself to stand up. Every breath I take is so loud in my ears. With a trembling hand, I open the door and let myself out.
Ignoring the party, I rush to the front door and dart down the steps.
What am I going to do?
The only thing I can think is to ask Viktor for the money, but I told him I wanted to survive on my own.
I stumble in the high heels but catch myself and keep rushing toward the gates.
I have twenty-four hours. I’ll pack my belongings and sneak out of New York.
Yes!
Feeling as if I’ve being hunted, I start to run, and I don’t stop until I reach the end of the street.
