Sophie Deni unraveled the Mafia's inner workings and made a lasting impression with ease. Little did she know, this merely scratched the surface of her journey. More challenges like love and revenge await, and they would not be so forgiving.
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"We never call it what it is."
One of the last things to consider when going to an event like this is jumping over balconies to escape armed men. Even the thought of jumping off the second floor seemed more rational than shooting back at them. Antonio crouched behind a flower pot, and aimed his pistol at the men on the other side. He glared and pulled the trigger.
"Get to the top." He said.
I didn't refuse.
Adrenaline kicked in which helped the process of leaping across another balcony to climb the final ladder.
The third floor might be our best bet.
We scaled the building, the wind brushed against my hair. Antonio's muscles flexed as he pulled himself over the rooftop and extended his hand to me. I took it. His hand was warm as he pulled me over the rooftop.
An alarm blared against the speakers. Antonio pulled a latch which revealed a bag full of clothes. He threw them on and handed me some. He turned away, and kept watch as I got changed.
My phone dialled Francis, and he picked up immediately.
"Do something." I said.
"Look up." He answered and cut the call.
Antonio fought off a few men that came upstairs. Francis was in the helicopter.
"Only one of you can go." He said.
Antonio shot someone in the head.
"Antonio, go." I said.
He pulled me towards him, "You go."
His breath fanned against my face. His soft touch coaxed me and then within less than a second, he threw me into the helicopter and ran off.
"I'll be back," he said.
A part of me wanted to believe him.
Francis never knew about me having the USB immediately. I made several copies, on hard drives, UBS and on a the locket around my neck. This information is all I have to finding the truth about my mothers death. Not one person is trust worthy. Francis ended up keeping the USB but the copies, stayed with me. Scattered around to not raise suspicion.
"I'm impressed with what you managed to do today. I'd like to promote you." He said as he handed a brown envelope and a tattoo design.
I don't want you to do that again."
"Why?" I muttered.
He locked eyes with me, "You're a valuable asset."
My throat dried up at his words. He doesn't mean it. He only wants to take over.
"Don't send me out there again then." I muttered.
"Then you'll have something else to do but you're not going to like it."
Francis explained that the process of gaining ranks is not only about gaining the tattoos they have. Gaining ranks harbours responsibility not many can handle.
If someone gains a high ranking, they are like a manager and different managers have to do different things.
Now, I have to find people to do the dirty work no one wants to do.
Whether it was murder, drug distribution or anything else. They would be forced to sacrifice thier lives for the Mafia.
If I found the wrong person, like someone part of the DEA, the operation would go under. My reputation and respect with the other ranks would suffer. So, I would have to pay the price.
Despite this rational reason for many to not increase rankings and despite the risks involved, only one thing haunted my mind. Antonio.
Maybe, doing this alone won't be in my fate. Antonio never wavered his gaze when he helped me over the balcony. For some reason, not a single fibre of my being wanted the moment to stop. But he did and the only trace was the lingering sensation of his soft fingers.
***
Going to the streets of Manhattan was not my idea. Nor was it Francis's. Not until Mica told us someone wanted to meet us there.
Not until Francis told me drive as far as I could. Far away from prying eyes and towards the forests. The trees dangled from the sky. A couple strays landed in his direction.
He opened the trunk of his car. Inside was a woman. Tied, gagged and blindfolded.
"She's a candidate." He muttered, "my father chose."
My fingers touched the fabric of her blindfold. If she sees us, she will have two choices. Join or die. This is not the world my mother told stories about.
Her eyes swollen red. Her breath slowed once she glanced. Mercy.
"You'll be given a new life, a new name, a new purpose. You might not like it but it will save you from whatever situation you are in." The words I practiced for nights on end came out, "I'm sorry is all I have to offer."
Francis, however, offered a gun to her temple if she didn't oblige. We helped her out of the trunk. Her legs covered in cuts and bruises. The brown, mexican skin hard to decipher from the dirt.
He pulled her gag off and the words she spoke froze him up.
"Your family deserve to rot for what they did to me." She sneered.
"What did they do?" I said.
She coughed up blood, "they sold my sister as if she was a toy. She was 6. I haven't seen her in eight years."
Francis breathing hitched, his eyes locked with mine. Nothing needed to be said.
There were more people that hated Antonio's dad. Having the actual numbers regarding that would be a surprise.
She grabbed Francis by the throat and he was motionless. He didn't fight back. Not long after, the remaining clothing covering her skin was in my hand. Then, my first made contact with her face.
"You are safe with me." I said, "If you work with me, I'll help you get your sister back."
She glanced back and forth then nodded, "you're different than him." She said to Francis and he handed her a bottle of water.
"I will never be like my father." He said, "even if it means dying to prove that."
We helped her into the car, and took her to a safehouse.
In a few hours, she'll be doing her first assignment. If she fails, I'd hate to know what happens to her.
