His Revenge (Smoke & Mirrors Duet #1)

Chapter 3

Chapter Three

LEO

“Fight with your head, not your dick or

you will lose your pride and your life.”

“ W ould you like an espresso?” I inquire while stepping into the kitchen. It's not the caffeine that I need but something to sip and sober up while we talk business. Every conversation with my father is like a game of chess. My cock is softening and the blood is going back to my brain when my father takes a seat at the breakfast bar to get comfortable. I mirrored this kitchen after the one I have at home to ensure that everything is the same. I keep portions of my wardrobe here but nothing personal unless you count my emergency bag. When you work in the dangerous lines that we do it is important to keep a go bag on hand. Holding in my discontentment, I place my cup under the spout and start the machine. Every move in front of my father has to be calculated or it will be used against you if you are not measured in every reaction. Taking a deep breath, I focus all of my energy on relaxing my stance so my father sees nothing in how I stand. Turning to face my father I unsurprisingly find his eyes evaluating every movement. Checkmate. He wants something but he has to respond to my question first.

“Not today.” my father reaches for the bottles in the center of my counter and pours himself a double. He knows it is my favorite bourbon, and while he may not love it, it is the only thing kept here that meets his standards. He has always been a man of few words and less patience. I remember a lightness to him but only briefly while Claire’s mom was alive. He and my mom were in an arranged marriage like most of those of the high-ranking mafia. We marry for power, not for love. He never loved her but what she could do for him and the ties she could solidify for him in Italy with her family. The empire grew the day they were married and I was their perfect successor.

That day he lost them both he became darker, with little to no emotion for anyone, especially us kids. I had it easier as a legitimate child who could roam and go to normal schools freely. Claire was sequestered to a private area where she only got to see those who would sign the non-disclosure agreements to keep her a secret. As Claire got older he began to see her less and less, I think it is because she looks so much like her mother. He always had a soft spot for her mom and now he can't handle that it can crack the cold stone around his heart. Turning back to the counter, we cheers with our drinks, careful not to mix the unorthodox combination.

“I have secured the arrangement of your nuptials as my part of the deal, but you need to get to know your bride.” My father speaks matter of factly. I made the deal with him that I would surrender myself wholly to this life and in exchange I wanted our enemy's daughter's hand in marriage. To chain her to me as punishment for what her father put Claire through.

“She is his blood, what else do I need to know about her?” I uttered frankly. I know just how beautiful she is from the pictures I have. Beautiful will not sway me. Beauty doesn’t fix what her family put Claire through.

“Is that a no?” my father's words make me freeze in my place. No one says no to him. Not if they want to live. I can feel the weight of this decision. Maybe I can get away with a singular date and he won’t notice.

“I can take her out and get to know her better,” I say hoping that is sufficient. I really don’t want to spend quality time with the spoiled princess. She is merely a means to an end and as soon as I get my revenge I will sever all ties and leave her to rot in the mess her daddy made for her. She is useless outside of her looks, she has to be or her father would have bargained harder when my father proposed this to him. Who willingly sends their daughter into the snake pit? With a singular sigh, my father finishes the amber liquid in his glass.

Finally speaking, he says “That is a fine start, but I will want more.” Before he stands up, straightens his jacket, and walks over to me. Sizing me up in my kitchen like he still has no idea what I am capable of even though he made me this way. He turned me into an efficient killing machine that takes orders and doesn’t look back at the scattered bodies. I can’t. Not because I don’t feel the weight of most of the lives I have taken, but because if I start looking back now I will drown in the sea of them. Those I have killed without questions or remorse, who did wrong against my family name. I don’t ask for details but I get the job done. Nodding at my father, he shakes his head, smirks, and then steps toward the elevator.

“I don’t like waiting. Don’t make me ask again,” are his parting words while stepping into the elevator. Exhaling, I need to find my center. The whole point in coming here today was to blow off the steam from the day and now that is ruined. I have to plan a date worthy of the princess so my father doesn’t punish me for disobedience. Placing the cups from both of us in the sink for the cleaning crew, I find myself sober. Like I do every time I leave the condo I check my bag. I personally built this hiding space into the wall in my pantry. I thumb through both fake passports and the stash of cash. Everything is perfectly in place just in case this life goes against us.

The conversation with my father sobered me enough to drive myself home. The first step into the elevator I know that tonight isn’t over. My phone rings and the name on the screen is my best friend.

“Romeo, oh, Romeo” I melodically answer the phone. I know how he feels about his traditional name. He hates his family legacy because of how he was raised. It's not that I blame him, I would too if I was a baby illegally brought here and given to the mafia as a peace offering.

“Shut it, shithead.” Rome laughs. He both loves and hates my jokes but we’ve been friends since childhood and it is a huge part of our relationship.

“ What’s up?” I asked, knowing that if the matter could not be texted it had to be business related. One of the biggest rules is that even with burner phones, one does not text business related information. That creates a potential paper trail.

“I heard you're finally doing it. You're marrying the she-devil and I wanted to see what I needed to do for the plan,” answers Rome. He always knows when I need him. We grew up together side by side. He knows all of my secrets and I know his. Sitting in my car, I connect him to the Bluetooth and fill him in on the conversation with my father.