Chapter 10
10
S aturday, 9:00 am.
Aurelia sat in a chair out on her balcony, ignoring the tray of food Gita had delivered earlier. She’d come back to retrieve it, assuming Aurelia had eaten at least a few bites. She hadn’t. She was hungry, not starving.
The young maid’s eyes brimmed with concern, but Aurelia stuck to her rebellion. She hadn’t failed to notice how the corridor lamps near her room now flickered at half-power, no doubt a punishment for her breakfast antics. As promised, a new laptop was waiting for her when she got to her room. There were several sticky notes on the lid, boring instructions mostly, informing her she would not have access between midnight and 8:00 am, that kind of thing. But no password. No way to connect to the internet. Bastard. He must have told one of his goons to get rid of that one after I ruined the phone in the hot coffee. Still worth it.
The hallway was eerily dim, reminiscent of an early twilight. Michalis had purposely dimmed them, she surmised, smirking. He should have cut the power completely if he wants me to suffer from anything besides boredom.
“Mrs. Giannopoulos… is there anything else I can do?” she asked softly, a note of genuine worry in her voice.
Aurelia forced a nonchalant shrug, in case the maid had been instructed to observe Aurelia’s behavior and report back to Michalis. “I don’t need anything.” She softened slightly at Gita’s crestfallen expression. “But thank you for asking. You seem like a nice person. How long have you worked here?”
A flicker of relief brightened Gita’s face. “I joined the staff a few months ago.” Her accent was gentle, each syllable carefully pronounced. “Mr. Giannopoulos hired me after… after I lost my husband last year.”
Aurelia’s chest tightened, realizing how little she knew about the people around her. “I see,” she murmured.
“Are you sure you don’t need anything before I go to bed, Mrs. Giannopoulos?”
“Thank you, Gita. I’m… fine.”
Gita was almost through the door when Aurelia had an idea. “Actually, wait.”
The young maid turned around, relief in her eyes. “Yes, ma’am?”
Aurelia smiled. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, maybe you could ask Mr. Giannopoulos for the wifi login?” She pointed to the new laptop, all of the sticky notes still attached. “Silly husband,” she chuckled, forcing her eyes open like big saucers, and said in her most innocent voice, “Michalis gave me this amazing laptop but forgot to give me the login. Would you mind asking him for it?”
Gita hesitated, her throat working hard to swallow. “You want me to go ask him?”
Aurelia’s smile widened. The girl was obviously terrified of her boss. “Yes, if you wouldn’t mind?”
“Well, I’m not sure…”
Aurelia jumped up from her chair and had to stop herself from running to the laptop. She walked over to it casually and pulled off the sticky note that had only Michalis’s initials on it. “See? It says right here––” She waved the empty note around a few times, careful not to let Gita get a real look at it, then pretended to read, “Enjoy your new laptop, wife. Stay out of chat and don’t watch porn without me. Heart emoji, M.’”
Gita’s cheeks bloomed with color. “Oh, alright. I––I don’t know the password the family uses, but I can give you the one for the employees, if that would be okay?”
Aurelia grinned. “That would be great. Let’s get it set up, then.”
Together, they got everything set up, and with Gita’s help, she was connected to the outside world in no time.
Smiling shyly, Gita clapped when the signal connected. “I’m glad you seem happier tonight, Mrs. Giannopoulos. Mr. Giannopoulos is good to us, and I know he would do anything to make you happy. Family is very important here. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.”
“Nope. You’re amazing, Gita. Please call me Aurelia. Or Auri. That’s what my friends call me.”
Gita nodded her head and slipped out the door, leaving Aurelia alone with her new toy. Almost giddy with excitement, she ran to the dresser, opened the bottom drawer and reached to the back, where she’d hidden Michalis’s credit card. She would bet money the little green piece of plastic had no spending limit.
Stripping out of her dress, she quickly wrapped herself in a new clean towel, then jumped in bed, grabbed the laptop, and got busy.
“Let’s see. Chanel? Louis Vuitton? Dolce enough muscle to be threatening, yet not enough if either party intended to start another war. Their truce was fragile, the families equally matched in strength and numbers. Antonio would get the message.
They were all discreetly armed beneath their suits, and ready to fight their way out if the meeting was a trap. Michalis led the way to the back entrance, away from unsuspecting patrons who were chatting happily beneath their umbrellas as they waited to get in on one of the busiest nights of the week, ambient music playing quietly through mounted speakers. The upscale restaurant was evidently quite popular.
Michalis stopped a few feet from the back door and waited. There was no need to knock. Whoever was monitoring the camera pointed directly at them had already seen them arrive. Less than a minute passed before a loud security lock opened, the grating of steel on steel setting his teeth on edge. Rusty hinges groaned as the door opened.
He stepped through, closely followed by Dimitris, then the others. They were escorted down the stairs and into a large room tastefully decorated with modern furniture and expensive artwork. Meetings in dark alleyways were a thing of the past, especially with the type of surveillance equipment the feds used. Michalis had no doubt that the room they were meeting in would be completely secure, with dense outer steel walls, soundproofing, and signal jamming. Just in case Bonetti was wearing a wire or the room was bugged, they’d brought their own jammers.
Antonio didn’t keep them waiting long. He strode in, accompanied by six men, an equal match to what Michalis had, and extended his hand in greeting. “Michalis. Dimitris.”
Michalis had no patience for cordialities, but there were some things in his world that could not be overlooked, and this was one of them. He briefly shook Antonio’s hand, sizing the man up. Antonio was not unlike himself. Tall, heavily muscled, dark hair, early thirties; although he had a thin, faded scar near the corner of his left eye that ran diagonally to the middle of his ear. This man was no stranger to pain.
“Why are we here, Antonio?”
The corner of Antonio’s mouth twitched. “I’d heard you were direct, not much for pleasantries.” He nodded, almost imperceptibly. “I’ll try not to waste much of your time, then.”
He walked to the bar and poured three shots of Fireball whisky, then came back and held them out. Michalis debated whether he wanted to take one. If he was holding a shot glass, he couldn’t be holding his gun, which was presumably the whole point. Smart man.
Reluctantly, he and Dimitris took the whisky.
Antonio raised his shot glass in toast. “To better days.”
Michalis tossed back the fiery liquor in one gulp. The heavy cinnamon flavor tasted like heaven but going down, burned like hell.
“I hear the Romanians are in town.” Antonio began matter-of-factly.
“I’ve heard the same. Get to the point.”
Antonio nodded. “All right. Fair enough. Seven years ago, a lot of people ended up dead, including some of my guys that got caught in the crossfire, so if there’s about to be a repeat, I’d appreciate a heads up.”
Michalis tensed. “And why would there be a repeat? Something I should know about?”
Antonio smiled, but his eyes failed to warm. “Funny, I have the same question. Is there something I should know about?”
Michalis’s voice hardened. “Meaning?”
“We always keep one ear to the ground, just like I’m sure you do. Some of our shipments have disappeared, taken by Victor Khomenko and his crew…same as you.” Antonio paused. “I was wondering what brought them back to town, so I started doing some digging.”
Michalis had to fight to keep his emotions in check. How much did Antonio know about Aurelia and Victor Khomenko? Had he discovered their connection? In the mood Michalis was in, he wouldn’t mind beating the information out of the man and damn the consequences. He kept his features relaxed as he stared at Antonio as if the entire conversation bored him.
“Not going to bite, eh?” Antonio smirked. “I’d heard you like to play it cool. Okay. I’ll lay it out for you. One of my guys put two and two together. Your father married a woman named Petrova right before they were both killed. We all thought your father’s death was what started your rampage. Now we’re not so sure. We think she may have had ties to the Mafia Romaneasc?. Ties to Victor.”
“My patience is wearing thin, Bonetti,” Michalis warned. “Victor Khomenko is a human trafficker, something neither your family nor mine have ever condoned. He and his kind have no place here.”
“I agree.” Antonio gave Michalis a piercing stare. “So, if they’re here because you’re holding his daughter hostage at your estate, you need to let her go.”
Lightning fast, Michalis dropped his shot glass and drew his gun, aimed at point blank range, between Antonio’s eyes.
Staring back at him was the muzzle of a Glock 19.
Within seconds, every weapon in the room was drawn––the heavy breathing of men who knew their lives were hanging by a thread, the only sound in the room.
“That’s never going to happen,” snarled Michalis.
“Unless you have a damn good reason,” Antonio snarled back, “I have three dead men who say you are.”
The two alphas stared, neither willing to give an inch.
Dimitris finally broke the stalemate. “He can’t. She’s his wife.”