Indebted to the Mafia King

Eleni

I sit on the floor outside Dante's office, listening to Tony bellow inside. Dante warned me this was going to happen. After his call with Thano Coppola, who turned out to be the head of a New Jersey outfit he'd been working with, he took my hands and told me he heard me, he understood, but he needed to tell Tony what happened first.

At the time, that made sense to me. Seb is his brother. I feel sick to my stomach, thinking about his smile in whatever nightmare of a place they've got him in, just because I wanted to take my finals. But I didn't expect the "telling Tony" stage to involve me sitting outside while the two of them figured out what to do, loud enough that I could hear them shouting but not loud enough to make out any specific words. I drop my head back against the wall and try not to groan. Gianna pokes her head into the hallway and looks from me to the door. "What's going on?"

"They're...Seb...I...." I shake my head, feeling helpless.

"Right." Gianna sits next to me, sipping something dark green.

I raise my eyebrow at it.

"Spinach smoothie," she says.

I grimace. I love spinach-I think any Greek who doesn't might receive the old-fashioned Sparta treatment-but it's not for drinking.

"What, you think I maintain this body eating fried zucchini all the time?" She gestures to her exposed abs. "Pole-dancing is a sport, and it pays better than most outside of the major leagues."

I swallow down a giggle. Dante was right to have her around the house. She has an infectious energy I didn't even realize I missed when I was upstate.

"Seb and a couple other guys got taken by Luca Lombardi," I say. "Because they took me to my final."

"Oh my god, your final was today?"

I frown. "Not really the main thing."

Her face grows serious. "In this life, there's always something. Someone kidnapped, or tortured, or suspected of being a mole. And it all matters. It's life and death shit. But if you let it trample all the normal shit forever, you're going to turn into...well, Dante."

I knock into her shoulder. "Dante's not so bad."

She laughs. "Yeah, you would think that. But seriously. We'll fix the problem in a second. First, how was the final?"

I spill everything about my nerves, about Christos dropping out, about the website I designed and how I think it's good enough but I'm still not certain. And through it all, a part of my mind lingers on the idea that we, Gianna and I, can fix this. Tony and Dante are freaking out. We're talking about grades. Thano said I was the key, so why can't Gianna and I solve the problem?

It's my fault Seb got kidnapped, anyway.

When I finish, I look at her and say, "Do you have any ideas about the kidnapping?"

She glances at the door and lowers her voice. "I'm about to tell you something that, if Dante found out I told you, would get me killed."

My stomach flips. I nod.

"There's a guy who comes into Piacere sometimes who likes me a lot. And"-she glances at the door again "he's close with someone in the Lombardi outfit."

"Why would that get you killed?" I frown.

She smirks. "Because I'm telling you. And if we... act on this, it might get you killed too."

Something thuds behind the office door. The yelling gets louder.

"Okay," I say. "Let's do it."

***

Dante and Tony left to comb the city for Seb two hours before Gianna's shift at the club even starts, so it's easy to get out of the house. Well, easy-ish. Gianna insisted I had to wear another one of her dresses, which somehow seems even smaller and tighter than the last one. And I'm pretty sure the heels are higher too. But I insisted on choosing my own bag, a little black clutch that appeared in my closet like everything else I seem to own now. I didn't tell Gianna why I picked it, though. I don't want her stopping me.

So, at nearly midnight, an eerie echo of the first time I found myself at Piacere for the auction that changed the trajectory of my life, I totter up to the front door, ignoring the line of people stretching away.

"Hi." Gianna flutters her eyelashes coquettishly at the bouncer.

"You know Mr. Cattaneo guaranteed you access, right, Ms. Cattaneo?" the bouncer asks tiredly as he unclips the velvet rope.

"This is so much more fun!" She blows a kiss at the unamused man and drags me in.

The music pounds into my skull, into the soles of my feet, and I remember a few snippets of my first night drunk. Just a few, though.

Gianna's façade drops. "Okay, I told my friend you were looking for an ex in the Lombardi outfit. Think ditzy airhead who didn't know she was getting involved with the mob."

My eyes go wide. "I-I don't know how to do that."

"What, lie?" Gianna grins. "It's easy."

"Maybe for you." I shake my head and clutch my purse, my insurance policy. "If this plan relies on me lying about who I am, I can't do it."

She takes my hand. "We can just dance, if you prefer. But I thought you wanted to be the badass who saved the day."

I swallow. I really, really do. I want to prove I can. For my family.

"Okay." I nod. "Just...don't leave me alone."

"Done." She nods at one of the tables around the stage. "He's right over there, with the combover."

I grimace at the greasy-looking man with his hand creeping toward his belt as he watches the dancers. Then, I grab a glowing shot from a waiter and plaster on a stupid grin. Gianna leads me over to the table, and I try to tumble into one of the seats like I'm a little drunk. The heels make it easy.novelbin

He eyes me from head to toe, arching a brow as his gaze lingers on my breasts.

I wish I could take a shower. I clutch my purse.

Gianna sits on his other side. "This is the friend I told you about, Sean. The one that Lombardi jackass left on read. We're looking for him. Can you work your magic and take us underground, baby?"

"Gigi!" He kisses her on the cheek and slings an arm around her shoulders. "Any friend of Gigi's is a friend of mine." His gaze lingers on my chest again. "Especially when they look like you do." "So, can you get me in?" I ask.

The man looks me up and down. "I can get you anywhere you want."

I start to get uncomfortable, but then I notice that his arm around Gianna is exposed. A shoulder holster, proudly bearing a pistol. Sean isn't just sleazy. He's dangerous.

"So, when do you ladies want to go? Threesome in the bathroom first?" He leers at me.

It's a good thing I have a gun in my purse.