“Wyatt has to come with me to meet him.” I wouldn’t do this alone.
“I wouldn’t send you to the wolves alone. I already got you cleared, Wyatt, but you will stay in the background unless you feel Sienna can’t handle something.”
“Okay.” My best friend nodded, and I felt mildly better.
“Instead of seeing the negative here, Sienna,” Georgio stood and buttoned his jacket, “see it as you’re touching people with your story.”
“I’m trying,” I muttered.
“Well, try faster. He arrives in two hours.”
“What?” I jumped to my feet.
“Yes, so get your stuff together and make your way over to the airport.”
Georgio was a shark, good at the job, but a shark who could smell a story miles away. Maybe this was an opportunity to show just how good I was at being a journalist. Hell, maybe this story would land me a better job than working for Georgio.
Once I was alone with Wyatt, I flipped open the file.
“What does it say about him?”
I scanned the bio report. “Hm.” I struggled to get my heels on while I read. “Not much here.”
“Well, who doesn’t love a little mystery?” Wyatt peered over my shoulder, reading the details. “We’d best hurry. I’ll call a cab.”
“Thanks.” I rushed to the washroom to change into one of the emergency outfits I kept on hand for situations like this.
I downed some coffee and tried not to second-guess my outfit as we continued to dig on our phones. I did what my boss suggested and wore one of my favorite dresses, the one that got me through security lines before. If I was going to get something for my next article that might make the front page, I needed to land the moment.
I got this.
I swirled the rum around and took a moment to appreciate its rich color through the crystal, then placed it carefully on the ledge of the stone balcony. The orange peel twirled through the liquor as it floated up to the top to rest gently on the surface. It was our tradition to use a thin piece of orange peel whenever we used the coin. We considered it good luck.
It wouldn’t be a long visit, but it needed to happen to make a point. Sometimes the art of dramatics could be a defining one. Church bells rang off in the distance, and I knew it was time.
It was above-average temperature for May. The sun beat down on my shoulders, warming the fabric of the crisp black suit I had chosen for this meeting. I watched as the Alfa Romeo rolled up to the front stairs below my office at the dockyard.
My cousins, my capos, Niccola and Vinni, opened their doors, buttoned their coats, and at the same time leaned to open the back doors of the car then reached in to grab the two men I had requested to see.
I slowly moved closer to the railing, alerting the two men that I was there. Fear flitted across their faces and twisted their expressions into an acceptance of their grim fate. The large coin I was holding traveled between my fingers, and I saw their eyes drawn to it as I marked each of the men with either a head or tail. Once my decision was made, I flipped the coin high above me and caught it as I conceded to fate’s choice. Resting a single finger on my lips I gave the signal. Heads.
One moment there were two men standing, and then the next there was one.
“Holy shit!” The winner tossed his hands in the air as he looked down at the blood spray from his friend that now stained his coat and ran down onto his shoes. “We had a deal!”
I waited a beat, staring down at the man who couldn’t fulfill his job, then I spoke confidently so there was no confusion as to who was in charge.
“And that deal was over when you didn’t deliver.”
I turned on my heel and let my cousins deal with the situation at hand. I had no interest in what happened next. I had much bigger family shit to deal with.
Pulling my keys from my pocket, I hurried home, not interested in making small talk with anyone.
“There you are.” Mama had her back to me as she kneaded the dough for tonight’s meal. Whenever she was stressed, she would give the staff the night off and work her frustrations out in the kitchen, and then feed them as a thank you for taking over their space. It was rather fun to watch, and I knew it was one of the many reasons people loved to work for us. We treated them all as family, but like all families, we had our fair share of secrets and did whatever it took to keep them under wraps.
I kissed her cheek and smiled down, but her expression zoned in on some blood on my cuff. Blood from an earlier unfortunate situation.
“You look stressed, figlio. Did everything go smoothly at the dockyard?”
“Yes,” I reassured her, but I could tell she wanted to say more. “I’m good, Mama, really. Everything is fine.” She went back to kneading the dough.
“I assume they’ll clean that up.”
“Well,” I chuckled and took a seat at the island, careful not to brush against the counter now covered in flour, “twenty-three men have died in that very spot, Mama, and you have walked over the area countless times. Have you ever once seen any red stains?”
“What are your plans for this evening?” She changed the subject, knowing I was right. Sloppy wasn’t how I operated. I learned from the best, and I would continue to be the best at what I did.
“Not sure yet. Mariano should be calling this evening, and we have many things to discuss.”
“Did he take care of—” She paused when Anna strolled into the kitchen and plucked an apple from a bowl.
“Anna, are you staying for dinner?” My mama was always a polite hostess. We had a rule in our house that everyone had to attend at least three dinners a week, and Sundays were mandatory. Any time we held a dinner for guests, they were hosted at my parents’ place. This kept their home as the central place within the family to gather socially. Anyone who was close to our family or lived on our property came and went without a thought. The bar was always open, and you could always count on someone enjoying a drink if you ever wanted company. The doors were hardly ever locked, but if they were, it would warn them something big was up. Everyone knew the rules, and they were there for a reason, so no one would ever question them.
Anna looked over at me, waiting for an invitation. I didn’t blink as I kept my expression neutral. Anna was the daughter of one of my father’s closest friends since we arrived here. There was a history there, and one we couldn’t ignore. She was pretty and smart but not my type. She never said what was on her mind and didn’t get my sense of humor. Perhaps I did know I was a little too dark and sarcastic for her comfort, but having to stop and explain everything I had said was utterly maddening.
She flipped her thin, pin-straight hair over her shoulder and sighed at my lack of comment.
“I’d love to. Thank you, Andrea.”
Wonderful. I could hear the dinner conversation now. It would consist of one-word answers and uncomfortably long periods of silence while she tried to anticipate what I wanted to hear.
“Another rum?” Francesco read my face like an open book. “Or perhaps a double?”
“Please.” I handed him my glass with an exasperated smile, and he returned the expression in kind as he patted my shoulder in sympathy.
“Elio?” Anna shifted her weight from foot to foot as she always did whenever she spoke to me. “Will you be joining us?”