StefanSpring, One Year Later* * *She never did sign those annulment papers. My stubborn, beautiful wife.I stood drinking coffee at the kitchen window, watching Veronica talk to one of the workers. Charlie, full grown and weighing eighty pounds, never left her side.We'd come back to Tuscany a few days after the bank took possession of the house in Philadelphia. Robyn had come with us and would be starting her final year at a school in Florence geared toward gifted musicians.Thanks to their grandfather's greed, Veronica and Robyn had lost everything. Guardia Winery no longer existed, except as an example of corruption and destruction.Robyn never spoke about any of it. She rarely mentioned her grandfather at all. Veronica worried, but Italy was a good move for her. It got her away from everything, the past, the publicity, gave her anonymity again, and hopefully would give her a fresh start.I finished my coffee and set the mug in the sink before walking outside. Veronica waved whe
SiennaIt's past midnight when I get home, the perfect clear sky black but for the sliver of the moon. The walk from the bus stop is only two blocks, but this isn't the best neighborhood and I'm on my guard.The one thing I can consistently rely on is that the street lamps will always be broken. I wonder if the township even bothers to fix them anymore.Twice on the short walk I catch myself glancing over my shoulder, the streets quieter than they should be.When I turn onto the walkway leading up to my house, the motion detector sets off the light and I reach into my tote to dig out my keys.Once more, as I climb the three steps up to the porch of the quaint, two-story yellow house, look behind me.But I'm alone.And all the windows of all the houses are dark and the only sound is that of my keys jangling as I finally find them at the bottom of the bag.I insert the key into the top lock but when I turn it, nothing happens.Did I forget to lock it? It's happened before, when I'm not
Giovanni I sip whiskey from my place at the back booth of the auction floor. It's the quarterly draw, a party I throw for my associates, for lack of a better word.We've had a good quarter, and this is their reward.Every man who's walked into this room is captured by the many cameras. Every name noted. Every bid recorded in the ledger.Piano music sets the backdrop, the collection of voices loud over it even though most speak in whispers during the breaks in entertainment.These, too, are recorded, and they'll be dissected later.Pretty women serve drinks and anything else required of them as the stage is readied, the next girl taking her place on the raised dais.This one, her name is Diana or Donna or something. She looks young, but I'm assured she's legal. They like young, the men gathered here.She's on offer for one night only, and from the look of her, she'll bring a high bid.I study her face on my screen from the cameras installed behind the curtain. She's hesitant, to say t
Giovanni The noise of the crowd intensifies as Donna is removed from the stage and the curtains are closed. It'll be a little while before the next one is put on the block.I turn my full attention to the woman before me.“Giovanni,” I say."What?""Just Giovanni. Not Mr. Giovanni.""Oh.""Sienna Williams. Familiar name.""This is a mistake." She reaches into the giant tote, which is lying at her feet.One of the soldiers puts a hand on her shoulder, stopping her."What — "I give him a shake of my head.He steps back.I don't think she'll pull a gun out of the thing. She's not the type to even own one.She gives him a nasty look and resumes digging around to pull out her wallet. "Look," she says, opening it, taking out her driver's license and holding it out for me to see. Her hand trembles. “My last name is Chase. You've made a mistake."When I reach to take the license, she pulls it away. I raise my eyebrows and hold out my hand, palm up.She looks at it, and, very reluctantly, pu
Giovanni"What am I doing here?" she asks, ignoring my question, sounding more steely than I like.“Like I said, Ciara owes me some money." I make a point of saying her name rather than calling her sister."I don't have anything to do with that."“But you do. Given Ciara's current state, well, she's no good to me." I set one elbow on the table, rest my chin on my fingers as she processes this information. “And the only name she could offer up was yours.""Mine?"I nod. It's quiet and I wonder when she's going to get around to asking the two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollr question.“How much does she owe you?"There it is. "A quarter of a million dollars."Her mouth falls open."Ciara has a gambling addiction," I say. “And, as it turns out, a drug addiction too."“But that is much money. Are you sure? I mean...that's a lot of money.""Agree. She spent it quite nicely in my casino, though."She's quiet for a long moment and her eyes narrow before she speaks. "So, let me understand thi
SiennaHis hand is huge.Hell. He's huge.I reach out, place mine inside it and it feels warm and rough and when he closes his fingers over mine, his grip is firm, this gesture, it's as though I've already agreed.Because I know what I must do. I know why he brought me here. I have no doubt.You owe her nothing.I haven't seen or had any contact with Ciara in years. I didn't know she was in town.And she can't know that I am.I manage to get to my feet, and he's got to be a good foot taller than me. Even with my pumps, the top of my head barely reaches his chin.Heads turn as Giovanni, his presence at my back enough to guide me, leads me toward a door at the back of the room where a man stands sentry. He opens it at our approach.I hesitate."Go on," Giovanni says from behind me. He's standing closer than I realize and a shudder runs through me at the feel of his breath on the back of my neck.I hear the faint hint of his accent.I heard it throughout our conversation, stronger somet
Giovanni That was her decision.Sienna is taken backstage to be prepared.I sit at my table with Axel across from me. He's back from his errand.Axel Drake and I have known each other since I was sixteen years old. He's one of the few men I consider a friend.There were three years when he left Vegas and went east. It's a time he doesn't discuss though, not even with me. All I know about it is that he and his brother, Hugo, a man I've never met, spent time in prison there and I have a feeling it has something to do with that errand he ran earlier.I understand revenge and I don't care what Axel has to do to take care of what he needs to take care of as long as he's available when I need him. It's an understanding we have between us.He drinks the last of his whiskey and I pour him another.The gong goes off and the auctioneer announces this is the last of tonight's draw. They'll be anxious for it. I only have half a dozen girls at each party. Keeps them hungry."Want me to keep someo
I look at Sienna's tear stained, mascara-smeared face. She still can't see me. The spotlight is too bright on her. But she must recognize my voice and know that it was me who bought her.The men take her down from the platform. She still fights as she's removed from the stage. The curtain falls and the lights in the room go on announcing to everyone that it's the end of the night.Axel chuckles. "Told you," he mutters as I resume my seat."Fuck you," I say, the excitement I feel in my gut something foreign. Something I'd forgotten.One hour later, Sienna is delivered to my penthouse by the same two men in about the same fashion as when she threw that fit on the stage.I'm standing at the window with my back to the elevator when I hear the doors slide open. I sip my drink, watching the lights of the strip in this city that never sleeps.A city of vultures.Hungry.Always hungry.Always looking for innocent flesh with which to fill their bellies.I'm hungry, too.I set my empty glass on