The Italian Mafia

Chapter 8

"As long as we're on the same page. And we are, right?" she looked hesitant, but ended up nodding. Good. We would succeed and they wouldn't get me. Once again. What a surprise.

"I'm not sure I can do it," she said, snapping me out of my early victory celebration. What?

"Why not?" I looked at her with gentle eyes. I was trying to get her on my side. Gentle eyes and harsh threats; that was the right combination. Wasn't it?

"I want to go home," she murmured. My eyes were rolling and I couldn't even help it.

"Emma, I have already explained this to you; this isn't your choice. Think of all the people you would harm if you do what you're thinking of doing. Think of Nina in that same chair you saw the man in. Think of her blood pulsing towards the floor while she's still conscious. Do you really want that for her? Is that how you show your gratitude to your only friend?" She shook her head lightly. "Good, because we have to go now," I said and reread the text I had gotten, informing me that the cops were on our doorstep.

I stood up and pulled Emma with me. As we walked towards the staircase down to the entre, Emma stopped me.

"Wait, what's your name?" I sighed.

"You already know, Ambrogio."

"Ambrogio," she whispered, tasting my name on her tongue. I got a weird feeling in my stomach when I realized I enjoyed the way she said my name. There was no time to fool around. The police were here, ready for an interrogation disguised as a mandatory visit.

As we walked down the stairs, I slipped my hand over her lower back. It was time to act the part. I could feel her tense under my hold, but she couldn't get out of this one.

A smirk appeared on my lips and an inaudible chuckled erected in my throat when I saw who they had sent. This weren't the cops from my 'local station'. This was that FBI couple that had searched through my entire house, finding nothing in the process. They didn't want to give this one up, eh?

"Hello again," I said loudly enough for them to hear me, as we walked towards them from the foot of the staircase. I leaned down to Emma's ear and whispered, "remember to smile, tesoro." She nodded the tiniest nod and we kept walking.

"Hello," the man said coolly to me. The woman smiled sweetly and leaned down the smallest bit.

"Hi, sweetie, how are you?" She asked Emma. When she didn't answer, I put my arm around her.

"She can get a little shy," I said with a chuckle, stroking her arm.

"I'm good," she suddenly said, standing up a little straighter. I reckoned she finally understood the situation that was occurring.

"Where can we sit and talk?" the man then asked me again. I motioned for them to follow me into the small, formal living room that was located right next to the entre. They nodded and followed me inside. I sat down on the couch and pulled Emma lightly down beside me. I would have to sentry her.

"So, Emma, would you feel comfortable talking to us alone?" the woman asked in a way too sweet voice. I nearly felt vomit rising within me. She was playing this way too thick.

Surprising me, Emma shook her head and smiled. "That won't be necessary. I feel comfortable talking in front of Ambrogio." The couple looked at each other and then shared a look.

"Okay then. Emma, we know you were handed a college scholarship, but you never appeared on the first day of school. Why is that?"

"I took back my application. I didn't want to go there any longer," she said smoothly. She was surprising me just like she had when she first saw them in my house. The woman seemed less than content with Emma's answer.