Page 3 of All Your Lies (All or Nothing #2)

three

Alexa

A large gust of wind blows in my face, causing me to bring in a startled gasp as my eyes spring open.

Jenna’s face is inches from mine. Her gray-blue eyes sparkle with mischief.

“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.”

A Cheshire cat smile tugs at her lips. “I’m glad you’re awake. We should hit the spa.”

“It’s Friday.” I grumble.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious. If you get ready now, we can beat all the geriatric cougars and get one of the hot massage therapists.”

“Pass. I have to work,” I say as I stretch and get out of bed.

“Stop being so sensible. It’s not even your actual job, Mafia Madame.”

“Ugh. It’s called a capo, and I should’ve never told you.”

“Umm, yes, you should have. My best friend is going to be a Mafia boss. How badass.”

“There’s absolutely nothing badass about me,” I say as I think about my freak-out yesterday. To quiet my restless mind and ensure a peaceful night’s sleep, I had to rely on a sleeping pill once I got home. That’s not badass. It’s pitiful.

“You just haven’t come into your powers yet, is all.”

“I never knew murder and racketeering were powers.”

“On the contrary, it takes a lot of finesse.” Jenna’s stone-cold, serious face makes me smile. She strikes a balance between being lighthearted and an eccentric, silly psycho.

“Those true crime documentaries you love so much are going to rot your brain.”

She shrugs. “Knowledge is power.”

“You know, if you were smart, you’d run in the other direction. Why don’t you?”

“Easy,” Jenna says as she winds her long platinum-blond hair into a chaotic, messy bun. “I have no self-preservation.”

“Obviously.” I smile.

Her face turns serious as she looks me dead in the eyes. “You will be a phenomenal leader, though.”

“How do you have so much faith in me?”

“Easy. I don’t become friends with lames. Now, get up. I want to be rubbed out within an inch of my life.”

“Gross,” I say, scrunching my nose. “Like I said, I have to work. I swear you’re like Ten Second Tom.”

“Who the hell’s that?”

“Just a character in a movie,” I say as I turn off my alarm, which still won’t go off for another hour, thanks to Jenna’s early wake-up call. “You know, you should watch more movies. You’re missing out.”

“So, this Ten Second Tom, is he gorgeous with an amazing personality and undeniable humor?”

“He suffers from short-term memory loss, where he forgets what happens after ten seconds.”

“Fucking rude.” Jenna pauses while looking confused. “What were you saying?”

“You—”

“Kidding. So that’s the premise of the story? What a bore.”

“No, it’s about a woman who loses her memory after an accident and can’t remember anything the day before. This guy meets her and falls hard, only to find out she can’t remember him the next day. He spends the movie trying to get her to remember him.”

“I’m not even the main character?” She frowns.

“Not this time.” I laugh. “It’s a good movie, though.”

“Does she ever remember him?” she asks. Something close to hope enters her eyes but is gone in a matter of seconds.

“Yes and no. He makes a tape for her to watch every morning to remember who he is. He never stops trying.”

“That sounds exhausting.”

“It’s always worth it for the right person.”

“Geez, you’re sappy this morning. Don’t touch me. I don’t want to catch it.” Jenna makes a cross with her fingers as if to ward me off. I roll my eyes at her silliness.

“You’ll fall in love one day and totally eat your words. I can’t wait.”

“Fat fucking chance. Okay, back to the point. We’re going out tonight.”

“I’d rather stay in. Maybe—”

“No. You’re coming. Be ready by eight. They stop letting people in at nine.”

“Why would they do that?”

“Fuck if I know. Just be ready.” Jenna swats my ass and saunters past me.

As I sit down for my lunch break, I can’t help but marvel at how quickly the day is passing. The thought of being free from this place and having two days off in the sunshine and not in a cubicle is making me restless.

My mom’s influence and connections helped me land a job at a local non-profit even though I lacked experience and formal qualifications. She’s a generous supporter of this specific charity that helps children in need, and when my mom reached out to them, they couldn’t refuse.

I also didn’t refuse when my mom brought up the idea of me working here. It felt like a way to atone for my future transgressions. Sins I’m still grappling with. Helping people in need now only to snuff out the lives of others later.

It’s kind of fucked up for me to believe working here will somehow cleanse my soon-to-be bloody hands.

It won’t.

Nothing will.

The path to becoming the head of the Rossi Family, following my father, is fraught with opposition and difficult battles, each one testing my resolve and resilience.

Many in the other families are vehemently against a woman leading.

The consensus is my cousin Vinny, a powerful and established made man, deserves the inheritance.

I need to prove to everyone, including myself, that I have what it takes as one of the first females to lead.

The enormity of the task ahead is daunting, and I dread it.

This is part of the reason I’m here at the job that Jenna considers my “fake job.” I want to relish in the simple pleasures of a normal nine-to-five before being thrust into life-and-death situations. Experiencing normalcy unrestricted and unburdened is my goal.

The insistent buzzing of my phone jolts me from my reverie, so I quickly fish it out of my handbag.

Jenna

Just had the most mind-blowing massage.

Alexa

TMI

Jenna

Prude. And don’t even think about backing out tonight. If you do, I’ll find you.

Well yeah, she’ll find me. She’s my next-door neighbor, so I couldn’t hide from her, even if I wanted to.

I sense someone staring at me, and as I glance up from my phone, Brad, from yesterday, fills my vision. I smile at him before peering down at my phone as it vibrates with another message.

Jenna

I also took the liberty of purchasing you a dress. It’s sure to get you laid.

Alexa

You being so worried about my sex life is kind of weird.

Jenna

I’m just a concerned friend.

I snort but stop when I hear a throat clear and raise my eyes. Brad is still staring at me while leaning against the counter. In contrast to everyone else’s relaxed attire for business casual Friday, his dark blue suit seems out of place in the office.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Brown,” I say before taking a bite of my forgotten lunch.

“Alexa. Please, call me Brad.”

He’s told me this countless times, but I use his last name to create a barrier between us. A first-name basis will make him believe we’re friends. He’s nice, but doesn’t get the hint I’m not interested.

I give a slight nod while aimlessly pushing my food around on the plate.

“I wanted to talk about yesterday—”

“There’s no need,” I say, not wanting to rehash my panic attack.

“I just didn’t want you to think I was stalking you or anything.”

With a shake of my head, I glance upward at him. “I don’t.”

“That’s good. A few of us are going out for drinks. You should come with us this time. I can pick you up at your place around seven.”

“I have plans already, but thank you for the invite,” I say with a slight smile.

Not once have I gone out with anyone from work.

Most keep their distance because they are aware of my identity and my family’s infamous reputation.

Though Brad seems to be immune since he has asked multiple times, like a broken record.

I don’t have a problem with him, but he’s always given me a weird vibe.

Maybe he’s just socially awkward? I can’t fault the guy for that, as I too am socially awkward.

However, I always go with my gut. Trusting outsiders is bad for business.

“Okay. Some other time,” he murmurs before making a quick exit from the lunchroom.

“Sure,” I say to the empty room.

My phone rings at five o’clock on the dot. Jenna can be needy as hell sometimes. I roll my eyes as I answer the phone.

“I barely walked out of work, and I already said I’m going—”

“Going where, Alexandria?”

“Oh, Dad. Hi,” I say as I start my car.

“And where’s my princess going?”

“Uh, dinner,” I blurt.

“I’d be proud of how well a lie rolls off your tongue if it wasn’t directed at me.”

I grimace. He’s always been a human lie detector.

“Sorry, Jenna and I are going out to a club.”

“I will arrange—”

“No, Dad. I don’t want any bodyguards. They always hover, and I end up getting a bunch of weird looks from people.”

The mere thought of people staring at me, especially with my dad’s overdressed guards standing beside me like silent sentries, fills me with crippling dread.

I’ll be surrounded by watchful eyes, and any movement toward me will be met with an instant aggressive response.

I don’t want anyone getting hurt because of me.

It was a miracle I’m able to live by myself now. It took a combination of convincing, prayers, and almost a sacrifice to make it happen.

“Fine,” Dad says, resigned. “Bring a gun.”

“Only if it matches my dress,” I joke. Something my old self would have done. He doesn’t know how badly the incident six years ago fucked me up, and he never will.

Now, I never leave home without a gun or, at the very least, a knife on me, just in case.

I know I should have a guard with me. It’s unwise not to, particularly for someone in my situation, but I sensed that if I did, I’d always be plagued by self-doubt.

I’m usually able to tamp down the sense of worthlessness until it’s a mere whisper in the back of my mind, but then something like yesterday happens, and I’m thrust back into the high waters with a brick on my chest and no salvation of shore in sight.

“Alexandria—”

“I miss you and Mom,” I say to throw him off. I don’t want to talk guards, my future capo title, or my failed arranged marriage.

“We miss you too. Only a little longer and I’ll have you back where you belong.”

My mood tanks at the thought of coming home. “I know.”

“I meant to ask,” Dad sighs before dropping his voice. “It seems Rosalinda went missing. Do you know anything about that?”

Silence is my only answer.

Dad lets out another resigned sigh. “Is she safe?”

One thing I admire about my dad is his constant, unwavering support and ability to empathize with Rosie’s situation.

He vowed he would never coerce me into an arranged marriage, unlike the situation Rosie is facing, where her consent is not considered.

He gave me the option to refuse when Marco was first brought up.

It isn’t standard practice, but I appreciated his consideration.

“I-I don’t know. I haven’t heard from her yet.”

She was supposed to call me when she got to California. It was supposed to take around fifty-two hours, and she left two days ago, so she should call me soon.

“She’s made quite the mess. They’re ripping the city apart looking for her,” my dad says as I hear muffled voices on his line. “I have a meeting I need to get to. I just wanted to call and see how my princess was doing. Be safe, Alexandria.”

“I will. I love you.”

“Ti Amo.” I hear a click on his side of the phone.

I continue to drive with thoughts of my own future on my mind. My arranged marriage with Marco is over. Where does that leave me? I always thought he would be by my side to help in the categories I would fail in.

Now, I’m all by myself. But I’d rather be alone than with a cheater.