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Very well,” she sighs, sinking back in the chair. “But remember, you asked for this.” She takes a breath, and then she begins. “My father and I rescue girls from the sex trade run by the Mancinis.” Her words come rapid-fire, infused with urgency. “We hide them at the Ruby temporarily before helping them start new lives, far from the reach of the Family. All my charity work—while real—is sort of a cover for, well. For this work. The fees from the Ruby go toward it, too. It takes a lot of money to get someone away from the reach of the Mancinis. But Don Mancini has been sniffing a little closer lately, sending his auditor around to check my books. I think he knows something is going on.”
She seems sincere, her eyes clear and honest. But I know better than to fully trust. Not yet.
“You rescue them?” I ask pointedly. “How, exactly? And why does no one notice these missing girls?”
Alessa’s throat bobs as she swallows. Nervous. “You know that my father, Johnny de Luca, has…connections to the Mancini Family. Well, over the years, the Family has changed—for the worse.”
I can’t stop my scoff. “Your father works for the Mob and, what—they’re not cuddly enough for him?”
Alessa takes it on the chin. “I realize how it sounds, Natalie. I do. But the businesshaschanged. Too many people want a slice of the pie, and that means…well, it means there’s violence where before there might have been talks.”
And in a weird, weird way, I do see what she’s saying. Part of the reason the FBI has this whole operation going is because of the increase in Mafia-related crime in New York over the past few years. The recent assassination of Carmine Bianchi was just one event in a line of escalating violence.
Some of that violence has been committed by Johnny the Gentleman. But—as Alessa says—it has always been retaliatory, never an attack. It’s been restrained, insofar as he’s never killed a civilian, only other mobsters.
And it’s been targeted. The Gentleman has never killed indiscriminately, never left any collateral damage.
As far as killers go, he is—as his name suggests—surprisingly gentlemanly.
But he’s still a killer.
“Go on,” I say at last, because no matter what I might think about Alessa’s father, she clearly adores him.
“The Mancinis have become more and more involved in trafficking. Drugs. Arms. And…people.” She pauses to make sure I understand, and I just nod. “Daddy and I couldn’t stand by any longer. We decided to form our own network. We’ve banded together with other powerful people across the nation. My father has many allies, even within the Mancinis, people who also hate what is being done in the name of the Family.”
I can’t help it. I burst out: “If you hate it so much—both of you—why not just…”
But the small, cynical smile on Alessa’s lips makes me trail off. “Leave?” she finishes for me.
“Youcan’tleave.” I answer my own question.
She nods slowly. “There’s no out once you’re in, Natalie. I don’t expect you to understand, but…there’s no getting out.”
She doesn’t expect me to understand, but of course I do. I understood even before I made my silly, naive suggestion tojust leave. Anyone working on the problem of organized crime for more than five minutes understands the pressures. How difficult it is to leave the life.
And what happens, nine times out of ten, to those who do.
But at least my outburst is in keeping with the character of Natalie Moreau. Alessa doesn’t even look surprised about it.
She just goes on. “We use our networks with other cities to make these girls and women…” She pauses, searching for the word. “Vanish. We give them new identities. New documentation, new backgrounds. And we pay for housing and meals, set up trusts for them, to allow a safety net. We give them…a second chance.”
I consider her words, thoughts swirling. It makes a sick kind of sense. But helping victims hardly sounds like the M.O. of a mobster and his Mafia princess daughter. There must be an angle I’m not seeing.
“Why take the risk?” I ask bluntly. “What’s in it for you?”
Alessa’s gaze sharpens, mouth pressing into a thin line. A flash of anger, quickly suppressed. “Not everything I do is about gain.” She looks away, jaw tight. “I help them because someone has to.”
I exhale slowly, leaning back in my chair. Perhaps there are more shades of grey in her world of black-and-white than I anticipated. Hints of a moral code, ethical lines she won’t cross—lines her father won’t cross, either.
It gives me pause. But I need to be sure.
“And Sienna?” I press. “Who is she?”
Alessa meets my gaze again, holding it steadily. “A new girl for the brothels. Daddy got word of her situation and acted quickly. She was supposed to start this week.” Her voice shakes slightly. “We’re just waiting for things to settle a little before we help her escape the city.”
I turn over her story, examining it from all angles. “Is Juno Bianchi one of these powerful people who helps?” I ask.
A flicker of surprise passes over Alessa’s face. I curse internally at revealing knowledge of her cousin and the infamous Bianchi family. A misstep. But apparently Juno is well-known enough that it doesn’t occur to her to question it.
