15. Mia
15
MIA
T he phone's shrill ring cuts through the stillness of my room, a foreboding harbinger in the quiet night. I hesitate, then reach with a steady hand, heart hammering against my ribs. “Hello?”
“Ah, Mia,” Frank's voice slithers through the line, cold and precise as a scalpel. “So good to hear your voice.”
“What do you want, Frank?” My voice is a controlled calm, belying the fear that twists in my gut.
“Why, we have much to discuss, Princess.”
“I told you to leave me alone,” I hiss down the line. His next words stop me dead in my tracks before I have a chance to hang up on him.
“Your sisters, Mia. I have them.” His words are like ice, and I feel their chill wrap around my bones as a cold fury engulfs me.
“Why? Why do you have them, Frank?”
“That’s what we need to discuss.”
“Are they safe? I swear, if you’ve…”
“For now.” The two words hang between us, fraught with unspoken threats. I shoot a hand to my temple, my shaking fingers drumming their anxious song against my skin.
“Let them go, Frank. What business do you have with my sisters?”
“You’re right,” he responds. “But I do have business with you.” There’s a theatrical pleasure in his tone, the kind that comes from holding all the cards.
“What do you want?” My voice is barely a whisper caressing my trembling lip. My fingers grip the phone with white-knuckled force, my heart beating so erratically I think it’s going to explode out of my chest.
“It’s simple, Mia. You, I want you. Come to me.” It's not a request; it's an ultimatum.
I close my eyes, breathe out a silent plea for strength. Frank's demand echoes in my head, a nightmare come to life. My sisters’ faces flash before me—innocent, scared. They have so much to live for, so many things to look forward to. The weight of their world rests on my shoulders, a familiar burden. This is no different. I’ll sacrifice anything I have to in order to save them.
I open my eyes, steel myself. “Where?”
“Our spot – come alone.” The line clicks dead.
Our spot. The spot that once meant so much to me, now an echo in time, tainted by the cold dark hands of a madman pulling my shaky strings.
My decision looms, inevitable as a storm cloud. Fear gnaws at my resolve, whispering dangers and dark outcomes. But deeper than fear and stronger than dread is the fierce need to protect my only remaining kin. Like I’ve always done. The way I’ll do to my dying breath.
My mind races, a carousel of memories. Brando was right about Frank. The man was not to be trusted. Yet, amidst the chaos, clarity emerges—I’m walking voluntarily into the lion's den, in a bid to stare down the beast and save my sisters. For my sisters, I’d face the devil himself.
The thought of trading my own freedom for their safety clenches like a fist around my heart. I know that if I have a few precious moments with Frank, I’ll be able to talk sense into him. Even if it means trading myself for my sisters’ freedom. Though the one thing I’m certain of is that Brando would never willingly let me go to meet Frank. He would never. He went ballistic when Frank called me; if he knows Frank is behind this whole ordeal, there’s going to be a bloodbath. There’s no telling how many people will get hurt. I can’t risk that. I can’t risk my sisters’ lives. And I won’t forsake Brando, either.
The city's heartbeat fades into a distant murmur. The warehouse emerges from the gloom, a monolith of rusted metal and broken promises. Its gaping doors yawn open, an invitation for me to enter the lion’s den.
For some reason, Frank changed the address of the meet at the last minute. Small mercies, I think. We’re meeting at a rusted up old warehouse that’s seen better days; in its dilapidated state, it should be slated for demolition, and briefly I wonder if he asked to meet here so he could blow it up with me in it. I wouldn’t put it past him.
The fact that he has my sisters tells me the lengths of evil he would go to. I just don’t know why. I don’t know what he hopes to achieve by taking my sisters and depriving me of them.
My hands tremble as I move through the door, steadying herself against the surge of fear that sweeps over me. Inside, there’s only a single bulb that sways as though a breeze blows through it. But I know better. It’s the devil’s energy moving swiftly against the filthy walls of the condemned building.
“Welcome, Mia,” Frank's voice cuts through the silence, smooth as the blade he is using to twist my world into a chaotic frenzy. He emerges from the dark, his pathetic smirk a slash of evil on his face. “So glad you could finally make it.”
“Where are they?” My voice is a whip, cracking the air between us.
“Patience,” he chides, circling me like a predator sizing up its prey. His breath surrounds me, and I can’t help but shrink back. So different from Brando’s breath – one is comforting, and the other burns me from the inside out. “All in due time.”
My heart thrashes against my ribs, but I continue to hold his gaze, unflinching. This is a battle I’m determined to win, and I will not back down or show him any weakness.
“I did as you asked, and here I am,” I snap, my hands balling into fists at my sides.
“Always in such a rush, my Mia,” Frank taunts, his eyes malicious. “But don't worry, they’re fine. After all, a deal is a deal. And I am a man of my word.”
His words slither around me, wrapping around my neck like a constricted noose. I steel myself, knowing the true test is yet to come.
“Let them go, Frank. Now. That’s the only reason I agreed to come.” Each word that leaves my mouth is a controlled burst of defiance.
“Ah, but Mia,” Frank's voice oozes mock sympathy, “you assume you're in a position to make demands.” With a leisurely stride, he circles me, a predator toying with his prey. I can’t believe I ever let this man into my life, let him touch me. I may have been young and na?ve before, but right here and right now, all I feel is how despicable he is.
“Your sisters... they are quite safe,” he continues, the lie wrapping around his tongue like silk. “But their safety comes at a price.”
My pulse thunders in my ears, my jaw clenching tight. I’d known there would be a price to pay. Frank Falcone never did anything without payment. I just had no idea how far he would go in extracting his payment. I haven’t seen him in more than ten years; it seems like levels of madness have manifested over time and he’s lost his connection to reality. “What do you want, Frank?”
My own voice sounds like it comes from far away, as though it is carried in on the wind. It echoes in the open expanse of the empty warehouse, adding to my disbelief at the situation I’ve found myself in.
“Simple. I need you to work for me.” His declaration lands like a blow, staggering in its audacity. It’s a surprising request, but one that could encompass many things.
“Doing what?” I’m incensed that he would think I have any desire to be in his company on a longer than required basis.
“Let's call it... debt collection.” He smiles, a shark scenting blood in the water. “You have your father's persuasive touch, after all.”
Bile rises in my throat. My father's legacy—what got us here in the first place—is now Frank's weapon against me. It sickens me that my sisters and I are still paying the price for our father’s mistakes.
The warehouse seems to spin, cold concrete and shadow melding into a vortex of deceit as I think about all the things he’ll likely use me for. If I thought he was evil before, there’s no telling what the devil inside him is capable of now.
“Never.” The word is a bullet shooting from my lips.
“Never is a long time, princess.” Frank leans in close, his breath a caress against my cheek, reeking of treachery and danger. “Think about it. Refuse, and your sisters suffer. Help me, and I'll keep them comfortable.”
“I hate you.” I spit the words at him, venom laced with defeat. He’s chained me to him by the hand that hurts. My weakness. My Achilles heel. I lock eyes with him, my gaze icy and flat. “If you hurt my sisters, I will kill you.”
“Don’t give me a reason to hurt them, Mia.”
“Fuck you, Frank.”
“Excellent choice.” Frank's satisfaction rings hollow in the cavernous room.
He turns away, a cruel smile carved across his face. I shift restlessly from one foot to the other as I watch him walk slowly around the warehouse. He wipes a finger across a dusty old table, raises it to the flickering light, then blows until the dust is spiraling in the air before him. He was always so damn theatrical.
“There are some ground rules,” Frank's voice echoes through the chamber, an unshakable specter.
I snicker, loud enough for him to hear, as I fold my arms across my chest. “Of course there are. What would a game be without rules designed to let you win.”
He gives me a cold glare but says nothing as he continues to walk slowly around the warehouse, obviously to keep me on edge.
I swallow hard, getting nervous by the moment as the weight of the situation settles like lead in my stomach. This is so much worse than I initially thought it was. But fear is a luxury I can't afford—not with my sisters' lives on the line.
When he finally stops pacing and stands still, the silence stretches between us, thick and oppressive.
“You’ll move into my compound. You’ll do as I say, when I say. And you’ll have absolutely no further contact with Brando Gatti.”
Brando. This is about Brando? He’s still holding a grudge for some perceived wrong from when we were kids?
“What is this about, Frank?”
“I know you’ve been in contact with him.”
“Where is it written that that’s a crime? Who are you?” I scream, angrily. “What right do you have to come into my life and play God ?”
In a flash, he’s across the floor and standing in front of me. His hand wraps around my neck and he squeezes, applying enough pressure until he cuts off my airway. I sputter, clawing at his hands, until my eyes start to roll back and I’m on the verge of collapse. I don’t want his face to be the last one I see before I expire. I don’t want to die at this madman’s hands. This monster, this monster that I once knew who has become the devil incarnate.
And just as suddenly, he lets go until I’m swaying on my feet, gasping deep breaths of air too quickly, causing my chest to hurt.
“Tomorrow your work starts,” he begins, his voice low and steady. “You’ll collect the debts owed to me by those who think they can take from Frank Falcone and live comfortably. And you’ll do it with a smile.”
I clench my fists at my sides, feeling the sting of helplessness mix with rising anger. “Once again. Fuck you.”
His lips twist into a smirk as he steps closer once again, his presence looming over me like a dark cloud. “That can be arranged, Princess. If you ask nicely enough.”
“I want to see my sisters.”
“That, too, can be arranged. Once you’ve earnt that privilege. Now, you can do as I say, and earn your brownie points, or you can walk away now and never see your sisters again. You have a choice, Mia. You’ve always had a choice. Tick tock.”
He says the words so quietly, so softly that they can almost be misconstrued as being friendly. He makes it sound like he’s doing me a favor.
The truth of his words hits me hard, but I maintain my defiant stance. “How do I know you'll keep your word? That you won’t hurt my sisters?” I know he’s not a man that can be trusted.
Frank reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a small, crumpled photograph. He tosses it at my feet. I pick up the photo, smoothing out the creases with trembling fingers. A tear threatens to spill over, but I force it back. Showing weakness now would only give him more of an advantage over me.
It's a recent photo of my sisters, laughing together as they sit on a sofa, date stamped two days ago. The sight of their carefree smiles under his surveillance sends a shiver down my spine.
“Because you're going to keep them safe by cooperating,” he says. “Think of your cooperation as...insurance.”
“Why are you doing this?” My voice is hoarse, resigned. There’s only emptiness inside me when I look up at him again. “You’ve been gone a long time. Why couldn’t you just stay gone?”
“Tsk Mia. Now, where’s the fun in that?”
“Why me?”
“Because you’re the perfect pawn in the perfect storm.”