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“We need to call Benny.”
When we were kids, we’d run around these streets, visit this very deli to get lunch, and never knew what sort of organized chaos went on behind the doors.
Shaun Mancini kept his deli because my father and Nicolas lined his pockets and made sure his bills were paid. I had no idea of racketeering when I was younger; now I know how integral it is.
When I came of age and I started to learn the tricks of our trade, Natalia and I would frequent here still, but the way Shaun shook my hand changed, and the way he addressed Natalia shifted.
“Everything’s gone, and we need a quick clean-up before anyone sees this.”
“Already dropped him a text,” he states, already five steps ahead. “He’ll be here as soon as he can, and he’ll get looking into who’s behind this.”
Always efficient, I leave him to deal with the mess as I inspect the room. Stopping, I look at myself in the mirror, a sea of corpses behind while Sebastian paces between them, but it’s not the scene behind me I’m looking at. That’s nothing compared to the red cross on the mirror’s surface. The mark stole my attention the moment we walked into the room, but I resisted marching to it, instead moving through the room to expect the handy work involved.
Rubbing my jaw, I laugh under my breath and hope that my gut instinct is correct on this one.
Suddenly, Sebastian’s behind me, eyes glued to the same mark I’m yet to look away from.
“Are you thinking what I am?”
His question is unfounded, and I needn’t answer, but locking gazes with his in the reflection, I smirk.
“The bitch is back in town.”
X marks the spot.
The fact it’s drawn in crimson red lipstick does little to dissuade my suspicions.
“I told you I wanted her found, and I meant it.” My voice cinches with the onslaught of anger that gathers in a fever pitch. “And if none of you can find her, I’ll draw her out myself.”
“And how do you suppose you’re going to do that when you’re wrapped up in meetings from here until eternity?”
People assume I started to step into my role long before Nicolas died, and in a way, I did. He drew me in, took me under his blooded wing and taught me things I had no right to know—not without sharing his blood.
It enabled me to dabble in duties, meet associates, and really pick up momentum in the sort of line of work.
My life was already a multitude of round table meetings, scaring subordinates, and working out how to diversify so that The Company remained without too much detection.
Sebastian didn’t know I was acquainted with the officials who kept our secrets, of the locations that went without scrutiny that laundered the money we put out in the world, nor did he have a clue of the price of goods we pushed.
He might be my right-hand man, but only the privileged have full disclosure.
With all of the newfound responsibility came fresh ties. Men who Nicolas consorted and worked closely with were suddenly answering to me, as if Nicolas knew his time was coming.
I had to make a fresh army to do my bidding, trust in the men my father and Nicolas always had, and see if those who had been by my side matched to them.
“I have my ways.”
“You have your ways?” Sebastian queries, cocking a brow. “You haven’t asked anyone for help until yesterday, so what ways do you have?”
“An associate is on the case already.”
I can see the hurt that flashes in his eyes momentarily
“I knew you would,” he comments, clearing his throat. “Always were too impatient.”
“What did you expect of me, Sebastian?”
We stare at one another across the expanse of the deli, bodies we didn’t put there at our feet.
