Unforgivable Ties

Chapter 16

Stephanie

I t was one am, and I was done for the night. I was getting off pretty early, compared to how my weekend shifts normally went. But Cesare had texted me and said to go home.

Vincenzo was taking me home. I had barely adjusted to this late night lifestyle, but he thrived on it. His work in the mafia had conditioned him to these nocturnal hours, where the city, draped in darkness and mist, came alive in its own illicit way.

His phone pinged, and he pulled it out of his pocket. After unlocking it, he scanned the incoming text message.

“Keep your eyes on the road,” I complained, gesturing my hands forward.

“We’re at a red light,” he deadpanned, reading the text message with an unreadable expression.

I sighed as I watched the light and made sure it didn’t turn green. As the neon glow of traffic lights reflected on his furrowed brow, I noticed a sudden tension in his rigid posture. His grip tightened around the sleek black device, knuckles bleached white as he stared at the screen. The light turned green, but we did not move.

“Fuck,” he muttered, looking at the phone screen.

“What is it?” I asked.

“We need to make a detour.”

“Drop me off on the corner if this is mafia business,” I said. “I told you, I’m not entangling myself further in this.”

“I’m not dropping you off on the corner at one in the morning,” he shot back, throwing the car into gear. “Don’t worry, it’s not even that bad.”

The tires screeched as he took off down the street. I gripped the sides of my seat, trying to steady myself against his reckless driving. City lights blurred past us as Vincenzo raced through the streets in a deadly ballet of swerving and high-speed turns.

“Your driving sure is,” I muttered under my breath.

I didn’t bother arguing with him. He wouldn’t drop me off at a subway station in the middle of the night, even though I was perfectly capable of getting myself home. I had gotten myself home in the dark for years at that shitty apartment complex I used to call my home.

We pulled up in front of a lounge that was drenched in a scarlet glow cast by the neon sign reading “The Underground Vault.” I could only see a sliver of the inside, but I could tell it was nice—black marble lined the floor, and I could see how nice the furniture was, even in the dim lighting.

“The emergency was going to a club?” I asked incredulously, glancing over at Vincenzo.

“We own the club.”

Of course they did. I wondered how many establishments the mafia owned in NYC, how many places were legit businesses by day and hubs of illegitimate activity at night. Was the entire city just a cesspool of crime, glitz and glamor on top, a seedy underworld beneath?

“Let’s go,” he said, opening the car door.

“Uh, I’m not really dressed correctly. I can just wait in the car.”

I gestured to my jeans and t-shirt. I was dressed for a long day of patching up criminals, not going to a lounge.

“We’re going in the side entrance.”

“We’ll still be inside the building,” I huffed, crossing my arms.

“Just follow me, alright?” he said, getting out of the car.

With a deep sigh of exasperation, I unbuckled my seatbelt and followed him to the side alley, the echo of our footsteps drowned out by the muted bass from inside.

The side entrance was much less glamorous compared to the front facade; a metal door tucked away in shadows, guarded by a burly bouncer who straightened up at the sight of Vincenzo. A gruff nod passed between them, and we stepped into a narrow, dimly lit hallway.

We turned right, and there was a flight of stairs leading us into an underground area.

“This seems sketchy...” I said hesitantly, stopping at the top of the stairs.

“It’s hardly sketchy compared to some of the stuff I do,” he replied, turning to look at me. “It will be fine.”

“If you say so,” I sighed, following him down the stairs. “But I swear to god if the cops raid this place while I’m here, I’m going to be the one to kill you.”

“Oh? You think you’ll succeed over criminals who’ve tried for years?” he said, a cocky smirk on his lips.

Tried for years? What if one day I came home from school and he just wasn’t there? My heart twisted at the thought. I complained about him trapping me in his mafia lifestyle, but really, I couldn’t imagine my life without him in it.

“I know I would,” I said. “If you get me kicked out of med school because of your shady lifestyle, I’d have nothing left to lose.”

“I think you’ll have to improve your assassin skills first, Steph,” he said.

What the hell. Vincenzo just gave me a nickname that wasn’t his condescending use of “Doc.” My heart was working in overdrive, trying to dissect what it meant. Probably nothing, but what if it did mean something?

He pushed the door open, and I was amazed at what I saw. A—presumably—illegal gambling den was spread out below us, populated by men and women in sharp suits and cocktail dresses. Surprisingly enough, it was clean, well-lit, and filled with an air of sophistication that I had not expected.

“I’m still underdressed,” I muttered to him.

“Who cares? You look good no matter what you wear.”

My brain short-circuited, but before I could process his words, he steered me towards a table tucked away in a quieter corner.

“I need to take care of something in the back,” he said. “You should watch what’s going on in here. It’s fun.”

“Watching people lose their money and dignity?”

“You’d be surprised how entertaining it can be,” he said, glancing at the crowd.

Before I could make another sarcastic comment, he sauntered through the crowd, leaving me alone in a sea of strangers. I cursed him silently—why couldn’t he just let me stay in the car?

I watched from afar as money was exchanged and cards were dealt. The atmosphere was tense, but surprisingly lighthearted. Laughter echoed from various corners, and glasses clinked in a toast to temporary victories. The losers grumbled, the winners gloated, and that ever-constant undercurrent of anticipation kept everyone on their toes.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to get a look at up close. I moved from my obscure corner, heading towards what looked to be a particularly high-stakes game. I hovered behind them quietly, not wanting to interrupt with my curious gaze.

I didn’t know much about poker, but I did know there were supposed to be chips in the middle of the table. This wasn’t the case. In the middle of the table were not chips, but artifacts. It seemed these high-rollers weren’t gambling with mere money. Ancient, glittering jewelry, delicate statuettes, miniature works of art from civilization’s dawn—the ante here was history itself.

I wished I knew more about poker as the game went on. People put their cards on the table, called out terms I wasn’t familiar with and eyed each other with a calculating intensity that was almost terrifying.

I was pretty sure a man in his early thirties was winning. He had the most artifacts next to him, and although the other players tried to hide it, I could see their disdain for him.

The man was strikingly attractive, with dark hair slicked back and a sharp, angular face. His eyes were icy blue, and they glittered with an uncanny intelligence as he casually surveyed his opponents. He had an air of arrogance around him—not in the way that he acted or spoke, but simply in the way he carried himself. He seemed to think he was the most important person in the room.

He won the game. The other players tried not to be sore losers, and muttered their goodbyes as they walked away from the table, leaving their precious artifacts behind.

“I noticed you watching,” the man said.

All the people had dispersed, and I was the only one left around. I checked over my shoulder, just to be safe.

“Ah, yeah,” I said sheepishly. “I haven’t really seen anything like this before, so I couldn’t help but gawk.”

He stood up and walked towards me, his movements lithe and predatory, his icy gaze never leaving mine. With every step he took towards me, my heart pounded with more anxiety.

“Well,” he said, his voice as smooth as aged whiskey. “There’s a first time for everything.”

“Yeah...”

“David,” he said, extending his hand to me.

“I’m Stephanie,” I responded, somewhat hesitantly as I took his offered hand.

“Stephanie,” he rolled my name as though tasting it, “Are you interested in history, Stephanie?”

“It’s alright. I prefer medical things, mostly.”

“Oh? Do you happen to work with The Surgeon?”

The way he said “The Surgeon” made it sound like a person rather than a title. I had a feeling this “Surgeon” was an underground doctor, perhaps doing things darker than what Cesare and I did.

“Sorry, I don’t quite follow. I’m just a medical student.”

“Of course; my mistake,” David said. He changed his tone to something more light as he dropped the subject. “Tell me, Stephanie, what are you doing tonight?”

My stomach twisted in knots. The hungry look in his eyes told me he wanted to take me home, but there was nowhere I wanted to go with this man. The idea of having sex with him repulsed me, and I got the feeling he was also very dangerous. But not in the same way as Vincenzo; this man would throw me to the wolves if needed, while Vincenzo would always watch over me.

“I’m here with someone,” I said firmly, so he would get the hint and not push the subject any further.

“Leave him,” he ran his hand up the side of my ribcage and grazed over my breast.

Before I could think it through, I slapped him. My hand stung from the impact, but I got so much satisfaction from it. Who did this man think he was, groping a woman he had met five minutes ago?

Patrons close to us turned to look, murmuring to each other after witnessing the spectacle. David looked taken aback for a moment, before pure rage painted his face.

He backhanded me, the impact of the blow turning my head sideways. I could taste the metallic tang of blood in my mouth, a searing pain originating from my swollen lip.

“How dare you?” he hissed. “Do you know who I am?”

I was pissed. Stars danced across my vision as I steadied myself. I didn’t give a fuck who this man was; he was not going to get away with touching me. But before I could lunge forward, a powerful arm wrapped around my waist.

I already knew who it was. I had memorized the tattoos on Vincenzo’s tree trunk of an arm and could even recognize them out of the corner of my eye.

“Lemme go!” I said, squirming in his grasp. David was going to pay for what he did, no matter who he was.

“Ah, Vincenzo,” David said snootily. “I was just talking to this woman when she attacked me. You really need to be more selective with who you let down here.”

“Look at me.” Vincenzo’s tone left no room for negotiation.

I turned and looked at him with blurry vision, my eyes welling up with tears. With a rough, yet gentle hand, he gingerly touched my bleeding lip where David had struck me and I flinched.

“He hurt you,” he stated, his dark eyes aflame with a fiery intensity.

I nodded, shamefully looking at the floor. I was embarrassed that I was too weak to protect myself from an asshole like David.

His large hand still cupped my face as he turned to look at David. At this point, the man realized that I was with Vincenzo, and he looked a little sick.

“Ah, Vincenzo...I apologize; I didn’t know she was with you. Let me make it up to you by—”

“Let’s talk.” Vincenzo’s hand dropped from my face and grabbed David’s shoulder. “You two, stay with Stephanie.”

I hadn’t even noticed Tall Dino and another man were behind Vincenzo. It might have been the first time Tall Dino had ever been quiet in his life, I mused to myself.

Vincenzo led David away, ignoring his pleas for mercy.

“Let’s go to the back,” Tall Dino said. “There’s ice there.”

I followed Tall Dino and the other man, choosing not to look back at the retreating figures of Vincenzo and David. I wasn’t sure what Vincenzo was going to do to him, but whatever it was, I probably didn’t want to know.

The back room we went to wasn’t what I expected. It looked like a normal break room you’d find at a retail store, with a fridge and tables and chairs scattered about. The second man walked to the ice machine and poured some in his handkerchief.

“Who’s that?” I asked Tall Dino.

“Short Dino!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “The one I was telling you about last time.”

He wasn’t even short. The man was probably about 5’11 and was more muscular than Tall Dino. But most people looked short standing next to Tall Dino.

Short Dino came back with the makeshift icepack and handed it to me.

“Thank you,” I said, taking it from him.

He grunted in response. It looked like Tall Dino was right about him not being much of a talker.

“What is Vincenzo doing to him?” I asked.

Tall Dino shrugged, and I couldn’t get a read on his expression. Would Vincenzo really beat up that guy, or worse, just for hitting me? As the two of us chatted, I realized I didn’t know Vincenzo as well as I thought. Even though we had shared some incredible moments together, he had a darkness that engulfed him that was unfamiliar territory to me.

I should want to run away from the darkness that shrouded him. Instead, I wanted to know more.