The holy trinity series, p.33
The Holy Trinity Series, page 33
Weak, broken, and crying.
I had begged her not to and, instead, she had gone to the bathroom and came back with the First-Aid kit and had done her best to patch me up. Afterwards, she had helped me into Ciro’s bed and had held me all night long until I had snuck out with the first sun rays of the morning.
Whatever made Francesca, Francesca, she hadn’t uttered a word to her parents, her brother, or Phoenix about what happened that night. She had kept my secret and when she had seen me next, she had whispered for me to go to her bedroom next time.
And I had.
And every time after that, until I was old enough to fight back and the beatings stopped. And funny how the beatings had been reserved for the firstborn only. Salvatore and Leonardo had been spanked and whacked upside the head a time or two in their lifetimes, but they had never been beaten.
Not. Once.
Francesca’s the only person who as ever seen me weakened. She’s the only person who’s ever seen me broken. And in all the times I’ve gone to her, she’s never once asked me what happened. She’s never asked me if I wanted help. She’s never once pried or pushed for reasons or explanations.
She just always patched me up and fucking held me.
As we grew older, and she knew who I really was, she understood better what the beatings were about. She still never pried, but she got the picture. And even after the beatings had stopped, there were times when my dark thoughts threatened to take me under, and I would seek her out just so she could tether me to some real human emotion.
Ciro and Phoenix never questioned our friendship and I never asked why. But I suspected it was because the more people to protect Francesca, the better in Ciro’s eyes. And Phoenix knew I wasn’t a threat to what they had. Nobody was. Besides, my love for her has always been pure, not sexual.
Francesca was also known as the Church to our Holy Trinity. Her value was widely known.
When Ciro and Phoenix had become official members of the Benetti Family, it had broken her heart, and we had all been regretful for it, but that had always been the plan. And now, six years later, we were the most dangerous group of people in the state. Ciro may own legit clubs, but he was the Benetti’s number one enforcer and my right-hand man. Phoenix may own a legit accounting firm and a real estate business, but he was the Benetti’s number one hit man and my own personal accountant. Francesca was going to school to get her business degree where she’ll manage all our legitimate businesses and help Phoenix with their real estate venture. Robbie was still healing from her injuries, but whatever she decided she wanted to do, we’d make it happen. Ciro, Phoenix, and Francesca may technically work for the Benetti Family, but they belonged to me. They were my family. Their loyalty was to me, first and foremost. Gio came in at a distant second.
Right now, we were all gathered around the living room, dinner finished, and just taking a moment to be ourselves. No looking over our shoulders. No deciding people’s futures. No wondering if the feds will be slapping handcuffs on any of us.
“I put the word out throughout the upper organization that if anyone Benetti member needs to mention Francesca or Roberta in public in regard to locations, movement, or meetings, they are to refer to them as Frank and Robert,” I informed the group. Robbie immediately looked down and I wanted to sigh. Even though Francesca was her best friend, and she married Ciro a couple of weeks ago, she was still skittish around me, and I didn’t like it. I understood it, but I didn’t like it.
“There has to be a few Franks and Roberts within the family, no?” Ciro asked. “Between all the soldiers, Capos, and associates there’s gotta be a sprinkle of Franks and Roberts.”
The Mafia had a definitive hierarchy. You had the Boss, which was self-explanatory. The Underboss, which was pretty much self-explanatory as well. The Consigliere, who was an adviser to the Boss; however, when I become Boss, that position will be shared by Ciro and Phoenix. If I thought Francesca wouldn’t balk, I’d give the position to her.
Next were the Capos, who oversaw the crews, which consisted of Made Men, soldiers, and associates. Now, Made Men were official Mafia family members. A killing was the only way in, and you’d better not be squeamish. Soldiers were the handled the low-level business of jury tampering, extortion, etc. Associates were men who worked for the Mafia at the lowest levels. They were our drivers, money collectors, errand boys, etc. They could also be bodyguards, but the Benetti bodyguards have always been Made Men
I nodded. “True, but no associates or soldiers should know anything about Francesca and Robbie’s whereabouts. Their locations should only be discussed between us and their bodyguards.”
“Luca, we’ve discussed this,” Francesca chimed in. “I don’t want 24-hour security.”
I glanced at the girl I’d do anything for. Her yellow eyes narrowing at me because she already knew. “And I don’t want to keep arguing with you about it, but here we are,” I retorted.
“You guys are impossible,” she grumbled.
“If you want to see impossible, ditch your security detail, Francesca,” I dared. “See what Phoenix does then.” Phoenix let out a growl while Francesca just rolled her eyes at us.
Impertinent chit.
I glance at Robbie and her pretty brown eyes shot back down. “Robbie?”
She looked up and I truly disliked the trepidation in them. “Yes?”
“You’re really going to have to get over your fear of me, you know.”
She let out an embarrassed sigh. “I know. I just need some time,” she mumbled.
“How much time do you think?”
The poor woman looked positively miserable when she answered, “Forever?” Ciro laughed.
The bastard.
Chapter 4
Remy~
For the love of God, why me?
Sure, I could go to church more often and recycle a little bit more, but overall, did I really deserve to have my car break down?
I mean, really?
Okay, so it was used. And maybe I should have changed the oil more often than I did. And, yes, the tires were a road hazard, but I’ve had this car forever. And I couldn’t afford a new one. And even if my parents would give me a loan, I couldn’t pay them back, so what was the point. Plus, they got me this KIA as a college graduation present. I wasn’t about to ask them for help with another car.
I sat in my car and cringed at the thought of cleaning out my savings to fix it. Depending on what was wrong, it might cost more to fix it than what the entire damn car was worth. It was also past eleven on a Wednesday, so I knew the buses were already done for the night. The last bus rides were at nine.
I glanced around and I knew I could call a cab or Uber, but I was only four blocks from home. Of course, four blocks in heels, even short ones, were a lot after a long ass day, but I’d rather walk than waste money on a ride when I knew I was going to need every cent I had to fix my car. Besides, it was Wednesday. The streets were at their most dangerous during the weekend. No one went looking for trouble on a random Wednesday.
At least, I hoped not.
Then I thought about my car. As soon as it began to sputter, I had pulled over and parked near the curb in front of all-night gas station. Would it be safe here? Granted, I had no valuables, but I had hopes to fix the car. I didn’t need it vandalized on top of everything else.
The only positive in all this was that I didn’t have any of my case files in the car. I had worked a late night and, as a result, I hadn’t had to bring any work home with me. Working so late was also productive as the place was quiet when almost everyone went home right at five. There were a few case workers who worked late from time to time, but not many. However, most of my co-workers had lives.
I didn’t.
No boyfriend. Anita was my only real friend. No pets to speak of. And my catch-up call with my parents were scheduled for Sundays.
I really had no life.
That wasn’t a complaint, but when time slowed, I was very aware of the last time I’ve had sex. Or, hell, just went out and had a drink, never mind sex with another human being. My job and its hours have sucked all possibilities from my life, but that was okay. The children were worth it. The children were worth everything.
I let out a resigned sigh and got out of my car. I made sure nothing was visible that would look like it was worth stealing and pulled my phone to take a picture. I made sure it was time and date stamped, so I could show my insurance in the event I returned tomorrow and my car was vandalized. I knew Anita’s husband could help me out tomorrow with a tow. I just needed my car to survive that long.
After snapping a few pictures, I hooked my purse over my torso and got to walking home. And my feet started to ache the second my brain registered that I was four blocks away from home. Kind of like how when you cut yourself you don’t feel the pain until you look at it.
It wasn’t until I was past the first block that I remember the back-alley shortcuts. Some apartment buildings had backdoor emergency exits that led to a sort of shortcut between the buildings. I wasn’t above jumping a fence or two and, suddenly, the idea had merit. It was past eleven and I was tired. I had to be up at six to be ready by seven because sometimes I made surprised visits to homes known for truancy. Tomorrow was one of those visits, and I needed at least five hours of solid sleep if I was going to be worth a shit.
I turned down one of the open driveways that separated one of the duplexes on the north side and made my way towards the alleys. My heels clicked loudly in the dark and I quickly took them off. Sure, my stockinged feet were bound to step in a puddle of cat piss or even slip on a used condom, but that was better than calling attention to myself back here. I had my mace in my hand, but I’d rather take precautions than have regrets.
While I was doing my best to be all stealth-like and keep a vigil behind me to make sure no one was following me, I hadn’t paid attention to what was in front of me. My dad used to say, “Don’t be looking down at the piss ants when the elephants are walking behind you,” and that’s exactly what I’d done.
A voice wrought with fear was begging. “No. Please, Luca-” His pleas were cut short by the soft sound of what the movies always told me was a silencer.
And then what he said registered.
Luca.
There was only one Luca I knew of in Morgan City and that was Luca Benetti. It was the city’s worst kept secret that Morgan City was ruled by the Mafia. A chapter that was led by Giovanni Benetti and his sons, Luca, Salvatore, and Leonardo. Doing what I did for a living, I spent most of my days in bad neighborhoods, so I’ve heard the rumors, and I knew what I’d just witnessed. The only thing I didn’t know is why would Luca Benetti be killing someone in a random alley? He had minions for kind of shit.
Another man began to speak. “We need-”
I looked around for a place to hide, but luck wasn’t on my side tonight. The second I stepped back to turn and run, one of the other men said, “Who’s that?”
All four males who were still standing turned to face me, and time stood still with resignation at what just happened. I just witnessed a murder, and they just murdered someone with a witness present. The second time snapped back into motion, I turned and ran.
I. Fucking. Ran.
Shoes and mace dropped, I ran back the way I came, mindful of nothing but making it home. I ran until my lungs burned, but adrenaline pushed me forward. I had strapped my purse around my torso when I had started walking home in case someone tried to mug me, but now my purse was nothing but a hindrance. It kept slapping against my body with every step and I felt, unreasonably, like it was slowing me down. However, I couldn’t toss it because my wallet was inside. It had all my information in it.
So, I just kept on running.
Blood was rushing through my ears, but I could still vaguely make out the sound of footsteps thundering all around me. They were giving chase, like I knew they would, but rational thought was a thing of the past right now. If any of these men caught me, I was as good as dead.
I had no doubt that witnessing Luca Benetti commit murder would result in my death. Then hysteria and lack of oxygen turned my mind into a distorted funhouse of wild thoughts. Why was he killing someone in a public alley for? Why should I have to die because he was sloppy? And on a random Wednesday? What the fuck?
My legs started to burn, but there was no way I was going to stop. I had no idea who was where, but I cut corners and zigzagged through driveways and apartment buildings trying to lose them. Luckily, I’ve been living here for four years, so I knew the area enough to work my way home. I just had to get inside my apartment building before they got me.
My apartment building finally came in sight, but I didn’t slow down. I ran for all I was worth, but I knew opening the front lobby doors was going to give them time to catch up with me, but there was no help for it. I had no choice.
I ran up the steps and keyed in the code to the front doors. As soon as the buzzer sounded and the lock disengaged, I swung the door open and started running again. I bypassed the elevator and ran up the stairs. My apartment was on the fifth floor, but adrenaline and fear didn’t care anything about that.
I could feel myself slowing down around the fourth-floor landing, but I still gave it my all. This was my life we were talking about. I knew it as surely as I knew my name.
There was a small measure of hope that all my running might wake someone up, but I quickly doused that hope when I realized that person might very well meet the same fate as me if anyone came around to help me. I didn’t want to die, but I didn’t want anyone else dying because of me either.
I finally made it to the fifth-floor door, and I swung it open, making a run for my apartment. Unfortunately, my apartment was at the end of the hallway, but I didn’t see any Mob members anywhere, so I took that as a good sign.
I forced myself to speed walk down the hallway instead of running because I really didn’t want anyone else getting caught up in this deadly drama. I wouldn’t say I had friends in the building, but I had apartment neighbors that I got along with. We were...neighborly and were a united front against the lazy super, but that’s it. However, I didn’t want to see any harm to come any of them.
As I got closer to my apartment door, I pulled my purse over my head, unzipped it and started looking for my keys. I thanked God for having the foresight to zip it up earlier in an attempt to stave off a mugging because I didn’t lose anything in the chase. But, right now, I hated the precious seconds it was taking me to locate my keys.
I needed inside my goddamn apartment now.
I finally found my keys in the mess inside my purse and my hands were shaking as I grabbed the doorknob and tried to fit the key inside the keyhole. Trying to steady my hand, two things happened at once: at the same time that the lock finally disengaged, a hard, unyielding body slammed into me from behind.
My mouth opened to let out a blood-curling scream, but a large hand slapped over half of my face before another hand grabbed me by the arm and ripped me around.
Eyes wide with terror, I looked up into the face of the Devil. It had to be the Devil. The folklore claims that the Devil is really one of the most beautiful entities to have ever exist. He was a fallen angel after all. He wasn’t all horns and hoofs and disfigurement. He was really beautiful in a breathless kind of way. So, this man before me had to be him. I’d never seen a man so stunning.
And he was going to kill me.
And then he confirmed my fearful thoughts when he leaned in, smelling like cedar and spice, and said, “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to lead the Devil to your front door?”
Chapter 5
Luca~
Her big blue eyes were inflamed with fright. Her body was frozen and shaking at the same time. She looked like she was facing Death, and she should be, because she was.
I kept my hand on her mouth as I reached behind her and twisted the doorknob. I pushed the door open and walked her backwards into her apartment. I didn’t take my hand of her mouth when I shut and locked the door behind us.
I leaned down into her face and said, “I’m going to remove my hand. But I must tell you, if you scream, or if you make any attempt to run, I will snap your neck in two. Understand?” Her head bobbed up and down, and I gently removed my hand. She took a small step back to put some space between us, but she didn’t scream or take off running.
“Wh…wh…” She couldn’t get the words out, and she stropped tying as soon as she realized it.
“Give me your purse,” I demanded.
Wordlessly, she handed over her purse and stood there as I pulled out her wallet. I flipped it open and yanked out her driver’s license. I didn’t care about her address since I was already standing in her living room, but I studied the rest of the information.
Her name was Remy Christian, and she was twenty-eight if my math wasn’t failing me. She was five-foot-five-inches and weighed a hundred and thirty pounds. Her street address was correct, but I didn’t care to verify the apartment number. I stuck the license back in the wallet and dropped the purse on the floor but held the wallet in my hand.
I eyed her, but she wasn’t giving anything away except for her sheer terror. “What did you see?”
“Nothing,” she lied.
I had never planned on shooting Dimitri in that alley. Hell, it was pure chance that I was even in this part of the city. Someone had claimed that Nelson Sorgen was seen in Morgan City and I wanted to check it out for myself. The intel claimed that he was dealing with some guy in Rotary Heights, so me, Sal, Tomas, and Daniel had driven here to find out if it was true.
Ciro and Phoenix had stayed behind with the girls because their protection was more important than anything else. Nelson Sorgen had inadvertently been responsible for Robbie’s latest beating, and it was understood that we’d stay out of Cedar Creek as long as every citizen of Cedar Creek knew their place. To hear Nelson might be in Morgan City…well, it had been a grave concern to me.
