Veronica pushed open the front door and entered from the first wing of the house that had the living room. The living room was uncharacteristically crowded. Her mother, Alessandra, hovered near the fireplace, arms crossed and expression tight, exactly the look that made Veronica’s spine stiffen. Not only had she stayed back home to rest but she also brought her friends with her. One had a glass of wine in hand and the other was rolling her waist to the soft jam blasting from the stereo. Veronica looked at her mother and wondered what joy she derived from living a life like this. All the while she grew up, this is how she had been. She was always having people around her and partying every other day.“Veronica,” her mother greeted with an even voice, looking at her like she had just fallen from the sky. “Hey, Mom, I wasn’t expecting to see you home at this time,” Veronica said to her looking from her to her friends who had gone still and were now looking fixedly at her.“Well, I’m
I couldn’t stop thinking about what Elena had refused to say over the phone regarding Antonio and who he really and truly was. Elena never hid anything from me so this was strange and I was curious to get to the bottom of it. My mind moved back to the thought of Clara yanking her phone from my ears like I had been stripped of my honour. That was a hell of an audacity that can only have been fueled by Antonio’s misdemeanor and poor portrayal of me before her. The fact that I thought she had some big sister or motherly vibes needs to be studied over and again. I could attest to the fact that she had helped me by bringing me bandages, looking at me with soft, understanding eyes but now I wasn’t so sure. That tenderness felt like a mask and the moment she flinched when I asked who ordered her to lock me in confirmed it. I sat on the edge of the bed with my knees tucked to my chest, eyes fixed on nothing in particular as my thoughts took me back to the early days when Antonio would co
“Didn’t think it was yours,” he said, his voice oily. “You don’t exactly look like a Range Rover kinda guy.”Rob wiped his face slowly, glaring at him. “You got three seconds to back off.”I was already halfway to him before Rob could say anything else. The guy tilted his head and looked me over like he didn’t recognize me, which I was sure was a lie. His eyes darted nervously once he caught my stare.“I asked you something,” I said, stepping up close. “Why are you here?”“Relax, man. Just waiting for someone.”“Yeah?” I said. “And who exactly would that be?”He smiled, and it wasn’t friendly. “None of your business, Conte.”Hearing my last name from his mouth had my fists itching. Rob put a hand on my arm before I could lunge at him.“Let’s go,” he said. “He’s not worth it.”I couldn’t stand it neither could I walk away from it as Rob wanted me to. The sight of injustice always struck something raw in me. “I don’t care if you’ve got tattoos covering every inch of your body or pierc
Roberto took the wheel like he always did when he wanted to run his mouth without interruption, and I didn’t mind. I had too much swirling in my head to argue about who got to drive. The Range Rover purred along the slick roads of the city, weaving through the traffic like it had a mind of its own. The soft breeze wheezed past our faces as the ornament trees that lined the road danced gleefully as we moved.He drove us into an upscale spot on the Upper West Side, a terrace-styled eatery with a rooftop view that overlooked other fancy places lined up like polished teeth and a busy view of corporate buildings. The moment he parked and killed the engine, Roberto turned to me.“So, about Carol and your old man,” he started.I unclipped my seatbelt and got out of the car without even glancing at him. “Knock it off, Rob,” I dismissed him before he got the chance to continue.He grumbled something under his breath and followed me. Rob was always a front seater, I don’t know if the seats at
The air around the Gianneti estate reeked of power and danger, two things Giovanni wore like an invisible cloak. In the farthest end of the compound, behind iron gates and guarded by men with eyes sharper than eagles’, a black truck screeched to a halt, its tires stirring clouds of dust into the golden afternoon.Two men in black suits jumped down from the vehicle and approached the main house. One of them, a tall man with an unshaven jaw and a tattoo peeking from under his collar, bowed slightly before speaking.“It’s here, boss,” he said, his voice gravelly from years of smoke and grit. “The largest order yet. We just crossed the border and there were no interruptions.”Giovanni didn’t say a word at first. He simply rose from his leather chair like a panther waking from a nap. His steps were slow, calculated and dangerous.“How many kilos?” he asked.“Two-fifty. Pure coke,” The tattooed man muttered.He narrowed his eyes slightly, then with a wave of his hand, signaled for them to
Stepping in and standing behind the door again was the company’s accountant with another file in hand. Our faces were too shocked to speak or even utter a word. I quickly narrowed my eyes back to my laptop as I leaned back in my chair, massaging the pain building at the back of my neck. Hours had passed since I started the simulation, and my head felt like a compact server tower about to overheat. The code lines on my screen were beginning to blur into each other. She knocked on the door audaciously to get back my attention. It was a soft knock on the glass door but I saw no need for it since she was already in. Her stilettos that made Roberto glance up like a hungry hawk. She strutted in, carrying a manila folder, hips swinging to the right and left like those of my personal assistant a few minutes ago. Her blouse had a dangerous V-shape that she never bothered to use a camisole and her breasts, God help me, looked like they were about to dive out of her blouse and introduce the