Unforgivable Ties

Chapter 6

Vincenzo

I wasn’t completely heartless. I had one of the men from the warehouse discreetly tail Stephanie to the subway station to make sure she made it on safely. When she got off the trolley at her stop, I made sure Giuseppe was also taking a smoke break nearby so he could walk her home.

Still, she had given me an earful. A goddamn bible over text, and then she called me the next day to chew me out. It always amused me when she was angry with me. As a Capo, I had essentially forced her into working for us, yet she showed no fear towards me.

The way her face would turn as red as her hair when she was mad at me was a sight I secretly reveled in. Her brown eyes flashed with defiance, her lips curving into a stubborn pout that contrasted her sharp tongue. Cute and petite, she bristled like an indignant kitten when cornered.

I hadn’t seen her since then, so I was sure she wouldn’t be happy to see me. Not like I cared. Today, I needed her for a different reason.

I climbed the steps to her apartment complex, noticing that the stair I had damaged before was now in even worse condition. I knocked on her door, half expecting her to throw a pot at me when she answered.

She yanked the door open, her normal upset kitten look on her face. “I’m not on the clock. Go away.”

“I’m clocking you in,” I said. She tried to slam the door shut, but I easily caught it with my arm and made my way in.

“Cesare said he didn’t need my help today. It’s my day off,” she said, enunciating the last two words. “You should try it.”

“I’ve got too much work to do, Doc. The mafia keeps me really busy.”

“What do you want, then?” she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest, a look of resigned frustration etched on her face.

“I need you to go on a date with me,” I responded casually.

Her eyes widened in shock, a flush creeping up her face. “Have you completely lost your mind?” She spluttered, her response coming out as a high-pitched squeak.

She was confused, but I could tell she wasn’t repulsed by the idea. I was used to people physically recoiling away when they looked at me. I was naturally out of place by how far I towered over everyone, and my long hair and body covered in tattoos didn’t help me blend in.

“I’m going to dinner with an associate and his wife, and I need to bring a significant other,” I stated matter-of-factly, ignoring her incredulous look. “The man is big on family, so I can’t show up alone.”

“So get yourself a date, then,” she said, waving her hand dismissively.

“I’m not the type of guy to commit to a woman.”

It was true. The many women I had been with before were one-night stands. A relationship would just get in my way of work, and I didn’t need the drama and complications in my life.

“Of course you’re not,” she scoffed, leaning back onto her worn-out kitchen counter. “The only thing you seem committed to is illegal activity.”

“Hey, I told that rich prick I was your boyfriend,” I said, pivoting the conversation back to my proposal. “When I picked you up from school.”

She clicked her tongue at me and gave me a disapproving look. “So?”

“That makes you my first serious relationship. You’re coming on a date with me.”

“But you lie-” she protested, but I cut her off.

“Be ready at six, Doc.”

At seven o’clock, we stepped into Ambrosia, one of the most upscale restaurants in NYC. It was near impossible to get a reservation here, unless you had connections. And I had many of those.

“How did you get a reservation here?” Stephanie asked. “I thought it was impossible.”

Stephanie always looked gorgeous, but the outfit she had chosen for tonight was almost too much to handle. My eyes trailed over her figure, admiring the way the fabric of her dress hugged her curves and accentuated every inch of her body. The slit in the side showed off a hint of her toned leg with each step. Her hair cascaded down her back in soft waves and her makeup was flawlessly done.

It took all my self control to keep from reaching out and dragging her to the bathroom, pushing her dress up and bending her over so I could—What the fuck? Those were not thoughts I should be having about her. She was way too young for me.

Stephanie was just some college chick I hired to take care of a problem the mafia was having. Nothing more.

I willed my half hard cock to go down as I hooked my arm in hers. The man we were meeting really branded himself as a family man, so it was important Stephanie and I looked like we were in a serious relationship.

“This place is so nice,” Stephanie marveled, her eyes wide. “I’ve never stepped foot in a place so nice.”

It was one of the nicest places in NYC. The walls were adorned with stunning original art pieces; the hushed murmurs of culturally refined guests filled the chandelier-studded restaurant; the French cuisine was hailed as some of the best in the world. A pianist playing soft, soothing melodies added to the ambiance.

“Oh my god, Vincenzo,” Stephanie said, trying not to freak out. “That’s Theo Merrick. He’s the main character in one of my TV shows!”

“You can not approach celebrities in here,” I said sternly. “And don’t gawk.”

“Yeah, I know,” she said sadly, averting her gaze from the actor.

I gave the hostess our name, and she led us to our table. Vito “The Serpent” Calabrese and his wife had already been seated and were sipping their champagne. Vito was a broad, solid man with dark hair graying at the temples and eyes like chips of ice. I had met his wife once before—she had been trained to adopt the air of quiet elegance. She would mostly stay silent, but knew the correct moments to speak.

“Vincenzo,” Vito greeted me with a firm handshake. His voice was gravelly, like the roll of thunder in the distance. “And this must be the charming companion you spoke of.”

Stephanie smiled politely, extending her hand out to be shaken. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Calabrese.”

She said it so confidently for someone who had just got thrown into the underbelly of the mafia world. I felt a surge of pride but quickly swallowed it down.

“The pleasure is mine,” Vito replied, raising Stephanie’s hand to his lips in a display of old-world chivalry. He then gestured to the woman beside him. “And this is my wife, Maria.”

Maria nodded and smiled, her lips making a muted mauve curve against the paleness of her face. Her dark eyes scanned Stephanie from top to bottom, as if sizing her up, then she extended a hand adorned with a diamond ring big enough to choke on. “My dear.”

“You’re not Italian,” Vito said, as if he were talking about the weather. “How did you two meet?”

“Stephanie works for Cesare,” I replied, glancing at Stephanie. “She’s a med student.”

“Ah, that’s a lot of work for a student to take on. You must be very talented,” Vito said, looking at Stephanie.

“I’m pretty good,” she replied shyly.

“Don’t be modest,” I responded. “She’s the best in her class.”

While looking into Stephanie, I had discovered she was the top of her class. Her sharp mind and impressive academic achievements were evident in every conversation we had, making it easy to see why she was so highly regarded by her peers and professors alike.

Vito let out a hearty laugh. “That’s the spirit, my boy! I like that. You’ve got a good woman here, Vincenzo. Don’t you ever let her go.”

Vito loved to portray himself as a family man, so he pivoted the conversation to his children. He talked about his youngest children, Tony and Bella, with a spark in his eyes that suggested they were the heir to his heart as much as his empire. He described Tony’s aptitude for math and how Bella sang like a nightingale.

Of course, his family man persona was only a facade. I knew he had a mistress on the side, whom he’d accidentally gotten pregnant. There were talks about killing her, but Vito liked her more than his wife, so they let her live. The child was about two now, and there had been rumors about a second pregnancy circulating.

Our small talk dwindled, signaling the start of our business discussion. The booth we were seated in was elevated, giving us a vantage point over the rest of the restaurant. We could see the bustling waitstaff and hear the clinking of glasses and silverware, but we were safe from prying ears in our secluded corner.

Stephanie’s face had gone grey. Fuck. She probably had seen another celebrity and was star-struck, even though I had told her not to gawk.

“C-can I talk to you for a minute?” she whispered into my ear.

“We’re about to start dinner,” I said sternly.

“But it’s urgent,” she pleaded, her wide eyes begging me to listen to her.

I looked at her for a moment, my gaze flickering between the nervousness in her wide brown eyes and the thin line of her lips trying to keep her emotions in check.

Sighing, I rose from my seat. “Excuse us for a moment, Vito.”

Vito waved us off expansively, more interested in the olive oil-drizzled bread that had just arrived.

Stephanie dragged me to a deserted side of the restaurant, where the dimmed lights gave a semblance of privacy. Her hands clutched onto mine, her grip tight and desperate. I could see the worry in her eyes, even in the dim light.

“Do you see the man at the bar? The one with the port wine birthmark on his face?” she asked.

I turned around casually, to avoid drawing attention, and glanced towards the bar. Sure enough, I saw a man with a large, reddish mark staining his cheek, drinking with a woman.

“Who is he?”

“That’s Lucas Decker, a Special Agent in Charge with the FBI,” she said, her voice a hurried whisper.

My mind immediately began racing. What was a federal agent doing here? I frowned, a chill of uncertainty coursing through my veins. An FBI agent could mean many things, none of them positive. I could understand Stephanie’s alarm.

“Are you sure it’s him?” I asked, keeping my voice steady and calm.

“Yes. I had a class on spotting criminal activity and treating criminal patients. My teacher was so excited to have him as a guest speaker,” she said. “I’m not confusing him with anyone—his birthmark is one of a kind.”

Was him being here a coincidence, or was there something more sinister going on? Had our recent activities been flagged? Or worse, was someone from our own ranks a mole?

I glanced back over to our booth and studied it with new scrutiny. Vito was still enjoying his bread, oblivious to the tension brewing between Stephanie and me. I carefully examined each inch of the booth when I saw it—a small black device. The device was tucked neatly beneath the edge of the table, barely visible, but clearly suspicious in its placement—a bug.

“Stephanie,” I said, under my breath. “We have a problem.”

“What is it?” She asked, tilting her head to the side, her eyes reflecting the fear she was trying to hide.

“I’ll tell you in the car,” I said, holding her hand and leading her towards the exit.

Even though my blood pressure was through the roof with our current situation, holding Stephanie’s hand felt almost...soothing. It was soft, unlike mine, which were covered in calluses from years of fighting and shady dealings. Despite the difference, she laced her fingers within mine and held on tight.

We strolled out casually, as if we were just another couple leaving after a satisfying meal. I wasn’t sure if it was paranoia, but I could sense Lucas Decker’s eyes on us.

Once out in the chilled night air, we quickly walked to my car parked a few blocks away. I didn’t want to wait for the valet. I opened the door for Stephanie and quickly moved to the driver’s side. My mind was racing, spinning a hundred scenarios to explain Decker’s presence and the existence of the bug.

“What is going on?” she asked as I started the car and pulled away from the curb, my eyes darting around for any signs of a tail.

“There was a bug on our table.”

“Wait...you mean a recording device?” she responded.

“Yes,” I confirmed, glimpsing at her in the rearview mirror. Her face was as pale as the moonlight that shone through the windows.

“What the fuck, Vincenzo! I should have never agreed to—” I clapped my hand over her mouth before she could finish her sentence.

“I need to check this first,” I said, gesturing to the car.

She sighed and looked away from me, staring out into the city streets. I wasn’t looking forward to her chewing me out later.