DeLuca (Mafia Romance)

“Seriously, Carlo? Just answer it.”

With a grunt Carlo fished his phone out of his pocket and answered without looking at the screen.

“What?” he practically shouted into the phone in frustration. As soon as the person on the other end responded his face went slack followed immediately by a tightening around his eyes. “Who the fuck is this?” his voice was low and lethal.

My heart started to pick up pace and I rose to my feet, concern starting to blanket me. This was bad if the silent rage coming off Carlo was any indication. Whoever was on the other line must have finished with whatever they had to say because Carlo quickly ended the call and made another.

“Everyone out front, NOW!”

Shoving his half hard cock back into his slacks he made his way over to my bedside table and grabbed the pistol he kept there. He released the clip checking to make sure the magazine was full before slamming it back into place and pulling the slide to chamber a round as he turned to leave the room. I followed behind him down the large staircase and into the foyer where some of the men looked like they were waiting on him. They all had their guns out and looked on high alert.

What the fuck was that phone call about?

“What’s going on Carlo? Who was that?” I demanded tugging on his arm to slow his fast clip.

He didn’t answer my questions. Instead he shrugged off my hold as he came to the front door and turned to me. “Stay here Mia, I mean it. I don’t know what is out there but you need to stay here.” Then without a second look, he walked out the front door with Angelo and Enzo behind him.

Fuck that.

Like hell I was going to hide out in the house while Carlo and his men put themselves in danger. Running down the hall to my office I snatched my Glock-17 and headed back to the front door. I hadn’t been gone more than a minute, but I didn’t know what was waiting for me. The icy droplets of rain stung on my exposed skin as I slowly made my way down the stairs to the circular driveway where the men were gathered. Angelo was on the phone barking orders at someone, Enzo was crouching down over something on the ground that I couldn’t make out, and Carlo was pacing behind him with his hands in his hair. I lowered my gun when I got closer and noticed all the men had holstered their weapons.

“Carlo? What is it?” I asked, my voice cautious. Whatever had him spooked like this could not be good, something was terribly wrong. At the sound of my voice several pairs of eyes snapped to me, and as if they had one brain the men gathered outside started to move towards me and in front of whatever was on the ground.

“Mia, go back inside, I’ll be there in just a minute,” Carlo said, but something in the tone of his voice and set of his eyes sent alarm bells ringing in my head. It was fear mixed with pity.

“What is going on?” I asked again, my voice harsher and more demanding now. The rain was pelting my body and my hair was now plastered to my face, I brushed it away with my free hand as I studied the men in front of me. I was starting to get pissed, someone had better tell me what the fuck was going on and soon otherwise I was liable to start shooting kneecaps for answers.

“You don’t want to see this girl, go inside like the Boss said,” Al stated from just a few feet away from me, he was slowly creeping closer to me. I had had about enough of his shit, raising my weapon back up I aimed at his face.

“Back the fuck off,” I said eyeing him as I headed towards whatever they were trying to hide from me.

“Mia, stop,” Carlo said as he came towards me, but he wasn’t quick enough. I spun around him and stopped short as I caught a glimpse of brown hair. I pushed at the men that were blocking my way and was able to shove them away enough to get a better look at the heap on the driveway.

The pale glow from the security lights cast an eerie halo around the form. Long brown hair was tangled and matted with blood and filth, her black dress was torn exposing far too much of her bruised and bloody body. The water pooled around her body from the rain was stained crimson.

“GINA!” Her name tore through my throat as I fell to my knees letting my gun fall useless by my side. My hands hovered over her, not wanting to touch her and hurt her more. My heart was racing and my breaths were coming faster and faster, I couldn’t slow them down.

Black started to surround my vision as Carlo’s voice spoke the words I dreaded most.

“Shh baby, I’m sorry, she’s gone.”Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

Gone.

She was gone. The word echoed through my head as the black took over.

…

In the days since finding Gina’s body I had been nearly catatonic, completely in my own head and sorrow. I cried myself to sleep every night and every night I was plagued with nightmares. I tried to keep the visions of what she must have gone through out of my head but my thoughts were running wild without my permission. I debated asking if anyone knew what they had actually done to her but I was scared. I didn’t want my worst fears to be confirmed and I didn’t want to talk to anyone, even Carlo. In fact, I was teetering on the edge of hostility, mostly communicating in grunts and glares.

Despite my attitude, Carlo would come to my room every night and rock me to sleep as I wept silently. Each of the hundred times I was jarred awake by a horrendous nightmare he was there, hugging me closer and whispering in my ear that it would be okay. But it wasn’t okay. Everything was wrong and I felt like I was going to die from this ache in my chest.

As I sat in the front row at Gina’s funeral next to her mother, I started to recognize the world around me again, to see how selfish I had been the past week. I was not the only one who had lost Gina, but I was the reason. Gina was dead because of me. I couldn’t escape the guilt I felt. They had thought she was me, they thought she was important to Carlo and that they could use her to send a message to him. The longer I sat there holding Gina’s mother’s hand as she sobbed, the angrier I got.

A fire started to spread through my chest. Overshadowing the hollow ache, my heart started beating faster. My arms and legs tingled with anticipation as I started to formulate a plan in my head. The message may have been addressed to Carlo, but I was the one to receive it loud and clear. What no one realized yet was that I had every intention of giving the Russians an even bloodier reply.

Home from the wake, I went up to my room and showered. I needed some time before I started asking questions I didn’t want the answers to. I stood under the hot water letting it soothe my tense muscles as I tried to mentally prepare myself for the worst. I had to know, I had to know what they did to Gina and most importantly I needed to know who they were. I went through the list of information I had already. I knew the Russian crew from Portland was responsible but I didn’t know much about them. Carlo didn’t go out of his way to hide things from me, but I wasn’t involved in his illegitimate business dealings so there was no need for him to confide in me. I did know that the Russians were who my father had been snitching to. The same men Carlo had taken down three years ago when they attacked one of his warehouses. At least he thought he had taken them down. Three years is a long time to hold a grudge, a long time to plan their revenge. I wasn’t going to wait three years but I would bide my time. I would do this right. In the end, there wouldn’t be a single one of them left.

After my shower I dressed in black ankle length cigarette pants, and a loose white chiffon blouse. I needed to feel put together and make sure I would be taken seriously when I asked my questions. If I looked like the slob I had been for the past week they wouldn’t tell me anything. I blow dried my hair, and painted on black eyeliner and red lipstick. I donned a pair of diamond solitaire earrings and slipped on a pair of bright red heels to match my lips. I took in the completed look in the full length mirror in my closet; I already felt stronger.

Throughout college I’d opted for jeans, t-shirts, and hoodies. Fashion had been the least of my worries because of the heavy schedule I had from trying to graduate early. Since coming home I mostly wore business attire, this was different though. I felt powerful.

Nothing would be the same as before, I had changed. The woman that stood before me in the mirror was vicious and focused on revenge. Born from the despair and anger of Gina’s death.

This was the new Mia.