Page 9

Arosso

I fall into my chair in a huff. Someone to my right goes to tap my arm, but when they see my face, they think twice.

“ And, action! ” the TV show director calls through a megaphone.

I’m watching a struggle between two “criminals” who were supposed to have a reconciliatory dinner together that went south. One has a butcher’s knife, the other pulled a wooden leg off his chair. The choreography is so bad I want to punch the staff just to show them how it should look.

This is one of the many Valentino mansions set up as stage houses. It’s deeper in Jersey… away from this problem of mine.

The father? No . He’s the easy part.

Quinn…

I’ve been obsessing over her since the moment I laid eyes on her in that window. It’s bad for my health. She’s twenty fucking years younger than me. What in actual fuck would I have in common with her?

The chemistry is electricity, though. It can’t be denied. Not just physical. When she shouts and chases, I want more of it. I want to protect her .

“ Cut! Cut! ” The director jumps from his seat and stomps onto set. “C’mon, Billy. Who’s going to believe you want to kill this guy if you’re swinging it around like you’re swatting a fly? Like this! ” He grabs the wooden leg and cracks it on the table. “You’re supposed to be feral !”

I can’t help but smirk in my seat.

The director comes back all huffing and puffing. “See what I’m dealing with? These soaps are nothing like the HBO series I had greenlit. Damn budget cuts. What the heck are you looking at? ” he flares at a poor stagehand down the row of chairs.

“With all the theatrics, I’m thinking you should be the one in the scene, Sully,” I say casually, and the others try to mask their chuckles.

He looks at me, red in the face, then remembers who he’s talking to.

Lightbulb, motherfucker.

I grin, daring him to say something.

“Apologies, Aros. Sometimes these amateurs get the better of me.” He huffs again and plops in his seat beside me.

“Mm.” I judge him.

“What do you think? Am I crazy, or does this scene not look believable?” Sully waves his hand as the actors get ready for another take.

“What are you suggesting?” My eyes scan slowly to his.

He visibly swallows past a lump. “No—no disrespect, Aros.” He clears his throat and focuses again on the set. “Alright, chop-chop! Next take!”

I sit there hunched, hand to chin with my elbow on the arm of my chair, mind wandering.

Watching Quinn sleep peacefully was an image that contradicts all of reality. It was brief, because she was flailing for most of the ten minutes I sat there before she woke, but there was that moment of calmness.

Something about it… I wanted to stay there as her guard, fantasizing that the Russians came for her, but could get nowhere close. I’d never make the mistake of losing another—

I tense my jaw so hard I worry it might crack.

As they wrap up the scene, everyone from production gets up from their chairs, bringing me back to reality.

“What’s the name of this one again, Sully?” I nod to the mess of fake blood and bad acting.

“ Chilling Desires ,” Scully says. “It’s not my first choice of script, but the studio can’t deny it hits hard for the demographic.

Women are obsessed with the corny drama.

And I’m here to deliver it.” He pats me twice on the shoulder.

“ Alright, people. Clean up and move on. Next scene is in the basement, then we’re done with this house for the day. ”

That’s my cue to walk around with the assessor to make sure all damages are restored after the set is wrapped. I have an eye for detail. The chips in the wall from the sloppy camera guys bumping into it, two bulbs in the chandelier from one of the prop knives hitting it. I could go on.

Now that they’re cleaning up, I have to think of my next move—feeding and tending to Captain Dall… and checking in with Donny.

I’m not looking forward to either, if I’m being honest. What the hell is my cousin going to think when I went and stole the Russians’ fucking prize?

It’s fine. There’s not one trace that could be linked to the Italians. I was careful in the card game, and even more so at the warehouse. No trace, no nothing.

Here’s the problem, though. If I hand the captain back to Quinn, will she sing? Could a kid that young possibly be trustworthy? Or will she slip like an idiot, or get spiteful like a teenager?

You can’t fuck up an entire family’s peace on a whim, Aros. That ain’t part of the code.

Once the crew finishes the report with my blessing, I wait for them to exit.

The head honchos pay their respects, thanking me for the smooth set, while the lower-level guys give me a pound just because.

Once everyone is out, I head to my black Cadillac SUV.

It’s a few years old on purpose—to better blend in with the masses.

If I moved around like those gaudy fools, Tristano and Castor, I’d have been caught with my pants down on more than one job.

Blend in.

Be a ghost.

Then why did you bring home Quinn’s daddy? I grunt again.

Digging around the glove compartment, I pull a burner and plug Donny’s current number from memory. I’ve stalled long enough, I think. He may have already heard through the grape vine what went down.

Definitely , actually.

The phone rings.

“ Yes? ” Donny’s unmistakable voice comes through.

“This VPN business, or whatever. They actually work? Thought that was for laptops and stuff,” I say.

“ Dicey talking up his big tech breakthroughs again, huh? ” Donny cackles. “ Yeah, we can talk. The feds can’t track these phones. Encrypted. Tested and true, old man. ”

I’m going seventy on the highway, blending in with traffic, eyes scanning for cops, always. I’m literally headed to a stage house with a tied-up captain in the basement, so can’t be too careful.

“I’ll never get used to not speaking in code over these lines.”

“ I wouldn’t be so lax if I thought it was a problem. Then again, I’m lax now… and there’s definitely a fucking problem. ”

“Had a feeling you might find out before you heard from me.” I narrow my eyes.

“ I was mulling over whether to barge onto your set and drag you out by the collar, Ghost. ”

“I’d stab you three times before you got close.”

“ It wouldn’t be enough, ” Donny growls.

I’m the only one who can talk to him like this, because I don’t give a fuck that he’s Don Stallion . He’s my little cousin, and I gave more than anyone for this fucking family.

“I have my reasons for what I did, and it’ll never link back to you,” I say.

“ That’s what I can’t figure out. If you wanted the target spilled, the bratva would’ve done it themselves, which must mean you need him alive for something. ”

Clever prick.

“… And if he’s alive, that means he poses a risk to us, because he could know he was rescued by you. ”

“I acted Russian. He never got a glimpse.”

“ You missed your call in acting, Aros. Now tell me, what the fuck is going on? ”

“Do you want my report? Or are you going to drill me about my own business?” I counter.

Honestly, I’m in the wrong. I know it. He knows it. If I cut the captain loose, there’ll be trouble. It’s inevitable… because of her .

“ Speak . But this isn’t over. ”

My heart thumps as a Jersey PD marked car pulls behind me, and calms just as quickly when the car switches lanes. Paranoia can become blinding sometimes.

“I hit Nikolaj’s game undercover, targeted two bratva mid-levels talking about a ‘pig-load,’ so I infiltrated and concluded on the old Palisades warehouse.

The target was there. Only five guards. Two grunts carrying another job, and three soldiers working the captain.

Barren otherwise. The whole job stinks of foul play. ”

“ Mm, ” Donny grumbles. “ You chasing something here? Saying the job’s not over? ”

He’s giving me an out. I should take it to get the big fuck off my back, but he’s family, so I’m not going to lie to him.

“Protecting someone,” I say. “Leave it fucking there, Donny.”

The other end of the line goes quiet.

“What?” I prod.

“ I’m in a state of shock, ” he says. “ You? How long’s it been since you’ve said something like that? I’m pretty sure I was still peddling dope. ”

“Fuck off.”

“ Must be serious. ”

“When have you known me to put the family second?” I say, driving in the knife where it hurts. Sure , it was under his father—Don Gio’s reign—but still, those aftershocks will be felt for generations.

“ Never, ” he says flatly.

“So let me figure this out on my own.”

“ Mm, ” he groans again.

“Back to my report. The captain was taken because he put away Yuri Patrovski’s brother, Viktor. It seems Yuri has grown bold since his dealings with Castor, and thinks himself above the rules of the underground. Who do I think the players are? Nikolaj and Yuri.”

“ Oh? Why Niko? ”

“Because he has plenty of games and clubs to manage… why did he show up at mine… where two of his comrades are talking about a pig-load? Coincidence? The chances are one in eleven. Do what you want with that.”

“ Detailed as always, Ghost. Makes me wish you never left. ”

“Mm,” I grumble at him this time.

“ If anything bad comes out of your move… we’re not associated. ”

“As if you have to say it.”

“ Goodbye, Ghost. Keep that paranoid head screwed on tight. ”

“Yeah.”

xxx

I’m at the stage house ten minutes away from Quinn’s, where her father groans on the floor below me. I don’t know what he’s complaining about. I cleaned all his wounds and fed him a hearty breakfast this morning. Now for a late lunch.

As I descend the stairs with a wrapped-up hero from set earlier this afternoon—it’s a turkey or something with veg, whatever—I can’t help but think I’ve lost my mind.

I used to always criticize the hitmen for their kinks—whether for their odd kill tactics or how they played with their food—but now here I am…

bringing food to a prisoner while I pretend to be a bratva soldier.

Clnk. Clnk. Clnk.

The metal stairs make so much noise as my loafers hit each one.

“Who’s there?” Captain Patrick Dall shouts loud in hopes his voice penetrates beyond the basement. Hah… like I hadn’t thought of that. Soundproof doors and no windows. No neighbors for at least a hundred feet in any direction.

No one can hear you here, officer.

“It is time for your meal, comrade,” my inflection is careful and practiced.

Patrick shakes his head—still blindfolded—fidgeting in the chair I’ve tied him to. “I don’t understand. I went from slop sewage food to omelets and toast. What’s the meaning of this? ”

“I told you already, some of the bratva don’t think it’s wise to feed a captain of homicide to our boss.”

“So what? You’re just going to keep me here? How’s that any better?” Patrick grits his big teeth.

I don’t respond to that. Everyone’s asking me too many questions. The cops, the don, Quinn . What do you want me to say? I’m a secret former mafia spy who’s infatuated with your daughter—

Just thinking about it makes my stomach turn.

The fuck are you doing, Aros?

“My God.” Patrick squeezes his fists tight. “You don’t have a plan, do you?”

I cut his hands free and drop the sandwich on his lap, making a show of tapping the silenced gun against a pole so he knows not to try anything stupid.

“The boss had a plan,” I say, knowing he already heard it when he was being beaten in the warehouse. “He would’ve shipped your fingers to the station one at a time. We’re trying to avoid that kind of reputation, hm? Now eat .”

After rolling a plastic water bottle to his feet, I pace, scratching my head.

“Don’t let them go after my daughter,” Patrick says lowly.

“She is no part of this transaction,” I say.

“She wasn’t, until you took me. Does the bratva even know there’s a rival sect at odds?” Patrick asks.

I remain quiet.

“ Hey! ” he shouts again. “I don’t care what you do to me, just make sure she’s not brought into this.”

“Do you have no confidence in your police force? Surely now they’re on alert, da? ”

“It’s not them. It’s her . Too smart and too nosey for her own good. She was always supposed to be on the force, but I couldn’t let my baby girl put herself in danger like that.”

That checks out, honestly.

“Captain, let us say we of the bratva let you free so we do not have pig blood on our hands. What then?”

“Hah. I wasn’t born yesterday. You aren’t letting me go…”

“Humor me, pig man.”

“Hmph. Fine. I’ll tell you what happens. I go after the bad ones. Patrovski’s brother,” he says without hesitation. “Seems like that could be a win-win for both of us.”

If I were Russian, perhaps it would be. Unfortunately, that would fuck up Castor DeMatteo’s gold import business, big , considering Yuri Patrovski handles all of the connections at the ports. Or… maybe it’s an opportunity. Another fucking variable to be discussed with Donny.

“Could be, pig man. Could be.”

I give him another five minutes to scarf down his sandwich before I aggressively tie his arms around the back and double-check the rope. Not too tight to cut circulation, and not too loose where I could have an escape on my hands.

“Hey. Hey, ” Patrick calls when he hears my footsteps getting farther and farther away. “Must I still really be blindfolded? Just turn me around and let me face the wall. Give me a crossword puzzle or something.”

“It is better this way, pig man. Sit tight .”

This is a fine mess I got myself into.