“Are you sure about this? You only recently got out.”
I close my eyes and crumple the ransom note, dropping it onto the floor. I left the mafia for love and now I’m at their doorstep again before emotion. I wait for regret to settle in my chest, but it doesn’t come. I’ll do anything, including damning my soul for the woman who chooses to return my love. “I’m certain. But I have conditions,” I say.
“I expect nothing less.” He chuckles, then grows serious. “What will you do if you find her dead?”
“What makes you think it’s because of a woman?”
Silence greets me. I may have left the mafia, but they never stopped keeping tabs on me.
My blood chills at Gavino’s words. This gang doesn’t know the extent of my past or what I’ve done, but they’ll learn from making Zeva part of their negotiations. “I’m going to rip out every bone in their body, then put their bones back in the wrong places.”
“What if she’s alive?” Gavino asks smoothly, but I know there is more to the question. He wants to see how much of mehe’s gotten back. But my return is to ensure Zeva’s safety. If I’m untouchable, then so is she.
Zeva would never let me arrange their deaths. “Then they can count themselves lucky. But my generosity won’t stop me from using every sent you pay me to hire enforcers that will slap them daily for the rest of their lives.”
CHAPTER NINE
ZEVA
“Why hasn’t he called yet?” Santos, the leader of the gang, says as he paces the floor.
Since Santos removed the blindfold, they kept over my eyes during the drive. I’ve tried to figure out where I am and failed. But from the length of the car ride, I’d bet a penny we’re outside of Magnolia Point. The room is large with charcoal stained concrete floors. There is a slight chill in the air that tells me we’re in a building of some sort, but it’s offset by the room’s warmth. Large well-worn couches facing a wall tv, a wooden coffee table, and two potted plants make up the sitting room. Beside me is a six foot Christmas tree decorated with ornaments and red and gold bows. Circling the base on tracks is a mechanical train. The room is a mixture of a man cave and holiday spirit.
“Rev should have kept watch outside the house,” the man Santos calls John, says, jabbing towards the ground. “Keep an eye on Andreas’s every move.”
“We all agreed that was risky,” Rev says. “What if he saw me camping out outside his house?”
“Are we forgetting…” John says, “He’s an auditor, not an assassin. That’s why we chose him, because he’d do what we want.”
Andreas might have worked for the mafia, but he doesn’t blindly take orders.
Santos runs his hands down his beard. “Are you sure this is his old lady?” He swings his head in my direction.
So far, I’ve listened to them argue among themselves and debate about what to do. But none of their conversations include letting me go. While my pulse has risen then folds, it’s not them I fear. It’s the possibility of never seeing Andreas again.
“Yeah,” John says. “She’s his.”
“Well, he isn’t taking us seriously so let’s amp up the pressure,” Rev says.
“Talk about risky,” John scuffs. “We did that once, remember? Going after his aunt again will only piss him off.”
I sit still in my chair. Did they go after Andreas’s aunt? What did that sweet old lady ever do to anyone? I had to do something. I couldn’t let them go after her again.
“Well, if he isn’t calling us to get his woman back, then he’s calling the police,” Santos says.
“Nah,” Rev says. “No self respecting mobster involves the cops. John, take a ride over to his house. Pop a few of those inflatables in his front yard.”
“Don’t even think about it.” All three men face me. “Pop my inflatables and I’ll unwrap every gift under this tree,” I say, holding each of their shocked gazes for a few seconds. Not that I could carry out that threat with my hands tied behind my back, but I will not remind them of that little detail. Andreas’s scroogie behavior has nothing on me when someone threatens to ruin my favorite holiday.
John points to Rev. “But that was Rev’s ideas, Santos and I have nothing to do with it.”
Now that I have their attention, I say, “Listen, you masterminds, there’s a perfectly logical explanation for why Andreas hasn’t called. Considering you took me at 7PM and he doesn’t get home until 11PM. I’d say you took me too early.”
“Thanks, Rev, that’s another one of your bright ideas!” John says.
“Yeah, but Santos agreed.” He turns toward me. “If I lose a gift for this, they lose one too.”
“That’s fair,” I say.
