Semua Bab Trapped By The Mafia Don: Bab 81 - Bab 90

Clarissa"You want to make a deal?" I ask after several beats of quiet.He nods once. "Yes, I think we can work something out.""I help with the Russians and you help find who killed my brother." I lean closer. "Is that about it?" My heart's racing and my palms are sweating and I should know better than to go down this road. "What's the catch?""Don't make this hard, Clarissa. You always have to make it hard.""No, Alessandro. I want to make you honest.""You help me with Danil and I'll try to find out who did your brother. I can't make promises, and I won't step in to hurt or punish whoever it was, but I can offer you that small measure of closure, at least knowing who pulled the trigger. That's what I'm offering, and I have a feeling you'll take it. Because what else do you have?"I grind my teeth. The bastard can read my thoughts sometimes like I'm an open book. "I could turn you down. I don't need you.""You could. But you won't. We both know you're the practical type."I hug my k

AlessandroStrengthened by several drinks and some time to myself, I head to my office, formerly my father's. The whole place has been redone with new furniture, new carpet, even the books are new. It's not easy to get rid of the stain of death, but it's doable. A dress bag hangs in front of the shelves behind my desk and I grab it, surprised by how heavy it feels. I lean it over my shoulder and stand there, surveying my domain, the still and quiet marble fireplace ash-strewn and blackened; the low couches and their overstuffed leather cushions; the drink tray with its cut crystal glasses and decanters. Trappings of power. It's meant to be impressive. Anyone who comes in here should see the expensive art, the fancy books, the roaring flames, the designer carpet, and be cowed into compliance. Why fight a power like the Russo Famiglia? We can waste money on things like antique embroidered throw pillows and alpaca wool blankets. We can waste money on killing those that cross us too.I'm

ClarissaAlessandro finds me standing in the darkness in the main living room staring at family pictures in silver frames. "You all look so young," I say quietly as he moves up close against me. I lift one of the pictures and wonder if I can ever feel like I belong here.He takes the photo I was studying: a group shot of all the siblings and both his parents wearing matching outfits at Disneyland. It's strangely normal. Disturbingly so. The contrast between what they do—death, pain, money, crime—and the simplicity of a family vacation is strangely intense."I didn't want to do this," he says, smiling to himself, and for a second, I think he means the wedding, but no, he's remembering the trip. "Mother and Karah insisted. And the rest of us went along with it because what else could we do? My whole life's been about family in one way or another. Trying to live up to expectations. Trying to make everyone happy, safe, protected. Trying to feed my mouths.""Am I one of your mouths now?"H

Alessandro"I will admit, I didn't want to have a conversation with you," Danil says, eyeing me warily and studiously not looking at Clarissa like she's a black hole in his vision. "I didn't think it would benefit me at all.""Fighting my men at the edges of my territory will only get you so far," I say with what I hope is a charming smile but I know Danil will see the edge to it.He shrugs as if that's no concern. "I came because you said you married Clarissa, and I admit that I was curious. I haven't spoken to her in a long time."To my right, Clarissa shifts slightly. Danil's talking like she's not in the room. "I hoped she could act as an intermediary in our discussion," I say, gesturing in her direction."I think she is too biased for that."I wonder if this asshole ever smiles or jokes. Must be a dour, colorless life.Clarissa leans forward, tapping her fingers on the table for emphasis. "Honestly Danil, if I had it my way, I'd let you take whatever you wanted just to spite my h

ClarissaThe next afternoon is bright and shiny again like the rain never happened, but there are hints: green grows in the sidewalk cracks along the gaps in the rocks, at the edges of the buildings. Green all over, a profusion of it, drunk and giddy from the water, like the city's blooming all at once. The desert gives and it takes and it continues.Alessandro's driving today. He's behind the wheel of a big, black Range Rover, while I sit in the passenger seat glaring out the window. We haven't spoken since the meeting, and I get the feeling he'd rather say to hell with our whole deal and murder Danil from spite. I saw his face when Danil said that bit about Alessandro being bad for Phoenix: it was a mask of utter rage like he couldn't conceal his emotions even if he tried. It was very unlike him.I enjoyed the whole show.But there is something strange about Danil. I don't know why, but for the moment we have a common enemy, and that's good enough for me. I don't know how I can use