Chapter 2 – Zanae
2
ZANAE
A few days have elapsed since my initial visit to Luna, and I find myself delving deeper into my investigation. I hit a wall every fucking time. I’m not making progress, and today is no exception. It’s infuriating and frustrating. How could they hide this well? Zero evidence or lead, no-fucking-thing.
I was about to fall asleep when suddenly I received a message from my father.
Father
Get ready, you need to come with me to a meeting at Troie at 8’. Don’t forget your knife.
Don’t forget your knife…
He always wanted to take advantage of me. The only problem is that he wants me to be with him for a meeting with someone probably just as monstrous as him and ensure that the information this man provides is accurate.
I am just another one of his pawns. Another soldier.
But he never acknowledged it. My participation in the creation of everything the family has at the moment.
I get up, quickly get ready to join my father at this ‘neutral’ bar where the clans can mix to discuss business without danger. I dress simply so I can blend in.
I know these kinds of meetings and places very well. I knew how to dress to appear as the harmless and naive daughter, to charm my father’s rivals and gather as much information as possible. He was literally showing me off for this.
Sometimes it’s at parties and events, or dinners, even funerals.
He doesn’t care, he just needs to uncover the truth and expose who’s lying to uphold the family’s reputation. And he’s doing it using me.
I must keep it all inside me when I’m with people, when I’m with them—the rage, the fury, the pain.
I must pretend.
I always pretended, even before Luna’s death. After the incident that night, I started this charade, becoming this other Zanae. And I never stopped pretending since then.
Looking in the mirror, I found myself innocuous, that’s exactly what I wanted. I opted for a black dress that reached my knees with a slit and a not too pronounced neckline, but it hinted at the beginning of my chest. Men are weak against that, and it’s easy to distract them. The allure of a woman is always important when you’re in this kind of world. I let my hair down, took my bag, put my knife in it, and went out.
A few moments after, I arrived in front of the bar in this neighborhood where normal people don’t venture alone. There were only large cars with tinted windows. Men in suits with visible weapons if you paid attention. Their empty looks, pretending not to be afraid, but most of them felt anxious. They were there to do business, and they knew it could end badly in front of the enemy. There were a few women with their husbands, but not many.
I parked my car and got out, took a deep breath, and headed towards the entrance. A waiter directed me straight to the table where my father was sitting.
In front of him, two men. The three were sipping their glasses of whiskey with ice.
My father stood up and gave me a fake smile, pulling the chair for me. “Ah, you’re here. This is my daughter, Zanae,” he said, turning to me. “Sit down,” he added firmly, the previous fake smile gone.
I sat down, and the two men greeted me, each with a handshake. The waiter came back, took a new order, and brought me a glass of whiskey too.
“Whiskey is way too strong for a pretty lady like you, some water would be better,” the man in front of me said.
I smiled and pretended not to imagine punching him in the throat. “I could just drink your blood.”
“You’re funny,” he replied, chuckling, as if it was a joke.
The conversation continued; my mind wandered until I heard keywords that reconnected me to them.
The one in front of me leaned toward me, and whispered, “You got quite the body little Dellé.”
Breathe Z, breathe, he’s a man, not him, you’re at a bar, not there.
I smiled, the fakest I’ve ever done. “You want to see how strong this body can be?”
The bastard grinned wider, thinking I was flirting with his ass, as my father and the other one went to the bar. “Oh, fuck yeah,” he answered.
I leaned in, inches from his face, with the same smile dancing cruelly on my red lips. “Look the fuck away from me if you don’t want me to slice your throat open here, on this table.”
The man’s eyes darkened, his smile gradually failing into a growl. “ Stupida ragazza , you threatened an Accardo,” he replied, grabbing my arm tightly. But my father came back at the same moment.
Extract information, Zanae, look at them, see how their bodies respond to your father.
“I need to talk to Massimo; you know I can’t sign anything with you.”
“We understand the problem, but he won’t be here for some time. That’s why we came,” The jerk said, loosening his tie, strangely.
Oh, they’re lying. This Massimo was definitely avoiding my father.
“It would be best to ask him to see me as soon as possible. The situation is serious, and there are many rumors.”
“We know, it worries us too. What do you think of our proposal?”
“I wouldn’t know what to say until I’m sure there’s no leak, and the Outfits are too close to the Zennites.”
Not the Zennites again.
“There’s no leak; accidents happen. We know it drew attention to us, but it was a mistake. We’re handling it, Emir.”
“Zanae, we’re leaving. Thank you, gentlemen. I hope you can reschedule a meeting with him next time. This is the last meeting I propose to him before making irreversible decisions myself to solve this problem.”
“We’ll do our best for the good of both clans. We don’t want this to jeopardize all our efforts to co-exists.”
Yeah…Liar. That little smirk he had- it told me otherwise.
We stood up; the two men saluted me, but the first one didn’t just leave normally, he grabbed my waist and inched it, kissing my neck before going to the bar with his friend. This bastard had my blood boiling. I couldn’t do shit because my father led me to the exit with his guards, talking about some wedding we had to attend next week.
That’s when I saw him, just for a few seconds, that insistent look.
He looked like he owned the night. The abyss and darkness around him were his. Even hidden, I could see him so clearly.
He was tall, and it showed even though he was leaning against his car I suppose. Large and broad, dressed in a black suit with an open shirt, no tie, revealing his width. He had noticeably short, almost shaved hair, and his eyes were on me. Never looking away.
He was watching me.
From his neck I could see tattoos emerging, on his right hand too. Beside him two other men, attempted to blend into the dark night but not really succeeding.
Perhaps it was just my paranoia, but I doubted even my father noticed them.
“Zanae what are you doing?” My father brought me back to earth.
Without further ado, I decided to follow him to the parking lot, but I still had this image of the man —the way he leaned casually against the car, fingers tapping impatiently on the hood, legs apart, eyes fixed on me from behind.
Maybe it was just a shadow? Maybe it was only in my head? Or I was just completely losing my mind.
And I could be insane.
Focus on something else, look up Z. Look at the stars. Feel again.
The beautiful sky…
I loved the night; I loved the stars, the wind, the moon, the deep blue that almost turned black but was illuminated by little sparkles. So beautiful.
She’s there now, because of you. Think about that.
These thoughts would never leave me. The guilt was so present, even if I did enjoy some aspects of life, I still felt like I shouldn’t because she couldn’t too.
The thing was, since her death, life never tasted the same. I was dying to feel something other than anger and resentment.
I got into my car and turned on the only thing that comforted me, music, and started driving. I wanted to make a detour to the cemetery at this hour, dressed as I was; I didn’t care.
I needed to see her and talk to her again. To make sure she knew I was overwhelmed with sadness. Even if I smiled looking at the sky it was because she loved it too.
I needed her to know that even if my mind drifted away from memories of her, my heart and soul were broken just to give her a part of them, so she would never feel lonely where she was now.
After sending a text to my father, telling him that I would leave the debrief of the information I had gathered during this meeting on his desk the next morning, I hit the road.
I accelerated, drove fast, eyes wet, loud music blaring.
Maybe I wanted to end it too?
To have a deep void in the heart, the desire to do nothing if the other is no longer there, not to breathe, not to walk, not to talk, nothing , is consuming.
So, this is grief? It sucks.
I arrived at the cemetery near the airport, turned off my car, stepped out, and slowly made my way into the vast and gloomy space, searching for the one who no longer wanted to live.
And there, I saw those flowers—purple lilies—adorning her stone. I was certain her father placed them there every week. He had avoided me since her death and had even moved out of state with his wife.
I would’ve done the same.
A small phrase was inscribed on the gravestone: An angel gone too soon.
Leaning towards the grave, I gently caressed the cold, dirt-stained stone with my fingers. Just a short while ago, there had been life underneath.
Grief hurts painfully at this moment. It’s a strange sensation, feeling as though it’s your own heart buried in that grave, despite another name adorning it. There’s just a single body beneath the stone, but two souls. That’s grief, the cruelest part of life.
I was going to avenge her; I made that promise to the entire world. No one would go unpunished, no matter how long it takes.