Chapter 3 – Zanae
3
ZANAE
A fter spending a few minutes leaning over the grave, recalling her face, I stand up when I hear a noise behind me. Frozen, I delicately take my knife out of my bag and turn around to catch a glimpse of a silhouette.
A man, in a suit, approached me with a cigarette in hand. He was one of the shadows I thought I saw, along with the man watching me outside the bar. So, I’m not losing my mind?
“Are you lost, sir? Can I help you?” I say in a soft and innocent voice to lower his guard.
He crushes his cigarette on the ground, smiles gently, and meets my gaze. “I hope you can, Miss Dellé.”
Oh, he knows me.
What if he’s one of my father’s enemies? How did he manage to follow me without me noticing?
“I’m all ears.”
“You were there that night, tied up next to another woman.”
What? I straighten, scrutinizing the man. Who is he? Why is he talking about that?
He chuckles very softly, almost reassuringly. “I won’t harm you. In fact, you’re important to me and some friends of mine.”
“Oh really? Who am I exactly to you and your friends? Because I can tell you that you’re not important to me, and I don’t even know you.”
He murmurs something to himself, hand in pocket, the other one scratching his beard. “He told me she was tough.”
“I am not deaf. You know a lot about me, and yet I don’t even know your name.”
He approaches, kisses the palm of my hand, and introduces himself, “Excuse my manners, Miss Dellé. Nikolai Moretti.”
Moretti? The Italian Cosa Nostra? The Zennites?
“Pleasure. So how can I help you? I think coming to talk to me in a cemetery, at this hour, after following me, while I was mourning at a grave isn’t very appropriate if you want to talk business. Usually, people address my father directly.”
“I certainly don’t want to talk to your father; I want to talk to you. You have something, a particularity, that could help us get answers and find people you’re also looking for,” he explains.
My heart tightens. Why would he want to find them?
“I would love to know more, but unfortunately, as I’ve mentioned, in this context, I’m not in the mood for business. I need to check up a bit on you before saying yes to anything, dear Nikolai.”
“And what if I proposed a meeting in a quieter place,” he suggests amused, “at a respectable hour and, above all, in a perhaps more relaxed atmosphere?”
Why not? To be honest, it’s just a meeting; and it’s the first time someone offered their help for my vendetta. Curiosity takes over. “Alright, I’ll leave you a number to contact?”
“No need, I already have it,” he says with a smirk. “Good evening, Dellé, and I’m sorry for your loss.”
He kisses my hand again and disappears into the darkness of the night.
What did he want? How could I help them, and why me?
Maybe this was a sign.
This was what I needed for revenge. If I had men to work with in these investigations, I wouldn’t have to worry about my safety.
Days had passed, and missions with my family had come and gone, but the man continued to watch me. Yesterday, during the announcement of the new Turkish leader, I saw him again.
But I had other preoccupations. Since the encounter with Nikolai, I’ve investigated him, asking my father’s contacts if they knew anything about him. I searched through my own files for pictures or any related information. All I found were some notes I had taken:
‘ Moretti and Volkov, the two families took the lead in creating the most important and lethal alliance in the history of the underground industry. Bratva and Cosa Nostra became an entity on its own, The Zennites. ’
Nikolai was one of the two Venom Reapers and leader of the Zennites. He didn’t fit the image I had in mind—younger but still terrifying.
He seemed sincere at the cemetery. If he had lied, I would have noticed. Moreover, he genuinely didn’t want to harm me that night, although he easily could have. There would have been no witnesses because dead people don’t speak.
What they were searching for and what I was looking for were the same answers to the same questions. The only problem was that I had to be very clever and attentive.
I was waiting for his call or message for more information. Curiosity was itching at me; I needed to know. And how did he already have my number? Too many questions lingered, never stopping troubling my mind.
As I readied myself, I overheard my father’s heated exchange on the phone. Drawing closer to his office, I caught his voice berating his right-hand man, Jad. “HOW THE HELL DID HE DISAPPEAR?”
“We don’t know, but his body was found yesterday, Emir.”
My father’s disbelief was clear. “What do you mean Luca Accardo’s body was found? I was with him in Troie less than a week ago.”
“We know. After your meeting, we never saw him again.”
“Why would someone do that to the Outfits? And why here in Vesper?”
“The one who killed him left his body near your property, with cuts that made some kind of dagger on his flesh.”
It’s like he knew who killed this Luca but refused to acknowledge it. “Again? On his body you said? This is new,” he murmured to himself, as if studying the case.
A dagger? I’ve never heard of that, but I’m no expert on revenge signs, so maybe it was some kind of messy business deal. But why here?
I entered his office and looked at him. He seemed lost in his thoughts; worry and fear were evident in his eyes. Why would he be scared? Was he stressing about the potential retaliation from the Outfits because the body was found near our house?
He met my gaze, his eyes widening, and I couldn’t comprehend why, but my father was acting strangely.
He simply nodded and asked, “Zanae, what do you want?”
I placed the file on his desk. “I just wanted to give you this before I forgot.”
A picture laid on the table. The body of this Luca is naked, dead, and mutilated.
With that, I left the office. The image of that dagger lingered in my mind. I didn’t have a clue about who could have done this, but I knew for sure that this person was completely deranged. Carving a dagger into someone’s torso? That’s horrifying. But did he deserve it? Absolutely. If Luca was treating me this way just for a few hours, I could only imagine the kind of life he led in Chicago with the women of his clan.
I began running, clearing my mind with music. I reached for my headphones, intending to block out the world, but as I noticed the eerie silence around me, I started to zone out.
Damn it, this isn’t the time.
The voices began to creep into my mind, begging me to let them run wild and scream, accusing me of guilt and fault, again and again.
I’ve learned a lot about life since I stopped using silence as a refuge. Sometimes, the scariest place to be alone in, is your own head. Our mind can be our worst enemy. Mine tends to play the role of the judge, jury, and punisher, but also the one holding me back from moving on.
The sound grew louder in the silence around me, but I refused to let them escape. Instead, I hurried to the café where my friend works. Greeting Miranda and June in passing, I attempted to drown out the screams that only I could hear.
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you with your hair down,” Miranda said, running her fingers through my hair with a smile. “They’ve grown so much.”
Luna loved to brush them for me before she–.
“It’s been a while. How’s my baby today? And how are you?”
“He’s been bouncing off the walls since yesterday, and I’m too exhausted to care why.”
I smiled, imagining my little Juny running around. “Probably because he’s three. Toddlers aren’t exactly known for their logic,” I said, trying not to laugh.
“Tell me about it. Anyway, here’s your coffee.”
She handed me the mug, and asked curiously, “Tell me, why are you dressed like that? Are you going to work out?”
“Yes, I’m going to run a bit more, and then I’ll head home. Do you need anything?”
There was no answer.
Miranda seemed stressed; her gaze fixed behind me.
“ Mira ?”
“Listen, I’m not sure, but I think the SUV outside is waiting for you. And the scary man driving it is looking at you very weirdly,” she replied.
What? An SUV? A man? What was she talking about?
I turned around and locked eyes with the man.
His piercing green gaze assaulted me even from a distance.
I wasn’t insane after all.
He stood there, dressed casually in loose jeans, a tight T-shirt, and a leather jacket. Tall and imposing, the material hugged his frame so snugly that it appeared slightly stretched and semi-transparent. He smoked leisurely, his gaze fixed on me, and even from this half-sitting position on the SUV door, he seemed enormous.
“I’ll see what he wants. I’ll leave; be careful, and call me if there’s a problem, Bye.”
With those words, I made my way toward the exit, barely registering his presence at the café entrance.
Ignoring him, I continued, slipping my headphones back on and finishing my black coffee with outward calmness, though my heart raced inside. Seeing this man so many times in just a week felt too deliberate to just be a coincidence. Certainly not in my world.
The SUV pulled up and halted beside me as I walked, and the window rolled down. He sat on the other side, hand resting on the steering wheel, appearing entirely at ease in that relaxed seat.
“Get in the car,” he commanded.
So the watcher has a voice now?
I removed my headphones, taken aback by his voice and its authoritative tone. “Excuse me? Who are you?”
“Get in. I don’t have time for questions.”
In those moments, I regretted my father’s security.
“Why would I do that?”
He looked at me like I was the problem in this situation. “Because I asked you to.”
Yeah, obviously.
“Do you think that just by asking me something, I must comply? Leave me alone. I’m not in the mood for some asshole getting on my nerves.”
He slammed his door, got out of the car, and opened the passenger-side door. He stood in front of me, towering over me, his scent teasing my nostrils as his voice came out more threatening than before.
“I didn’t want to be here either; I had other important things to do, but my colleague didn’t have time to come himself, so I’m helping. Nikolai wanted to see you, so for the last time, get into this damn car before I throw you in the trunk.”
Who did he think he was? Did he think he could intimidate me with his gun dangling between his jeans and hip? I needed more to be afraid, and just because he looked at me with cold and mean eyes, didn’t mean I had to let him do it.
I approached him, stopping only a few centimeters away. My head reached his chest; I raised it and looked at him just as intensely, and said in a firm, calm voice, “Next time, you might want to ask nicely and politely. And never interrupt me, especially if I have my headphones on.”
He leaned in, a cold smirk curling his lips. “Next time, I’ll pick you up on my bike and make sure you stay glued to me; you won’t have any choice but to obey. And if you dare raise your voice at me again, I’ll teach you my kind of politeness.”
I swallowed hard, my pulse racing.
“Asshole,” I whispered before getting into the car.
“I heard that. Such a pretty mouth for someone so insolent.”
He slammed the door hard, got in, and we didn’t say anything for the entire journey.
The drive was long, I didn’t know where I was going, but the landscape through the window was beautiful and soothing. He was so at ease at the wheel, his back relaxed, one hand on his lap; he was clearly in his element driving. See that’s your problem Zanae, even now you’re just trying to analyze this man, he kind of kidnapped you...
I had my music on the whole time. It was important to me to always have this little sound going on. This connection with music always calmed me, and in this moment, I needed it more than anything.
Am I stupid for getting in the car? Of course, he could murder me and leave my lifeless body in the woods or anything.
No, he wouldn’t, I’d kill him before.
Who am I kidding, he could snap me in two in just a second.
I was lost in my thoughts when I suddenly noticed that we were arriving in a sort of dark parking lot beneath a building. Finally, we parked.
“Get out; I’ll accompany you upstairs.”
“So pleasant to talk to you after such a pleasant journey,” I said with a fake smile.
“Follow me and drop the attitude.”
0/5 for the Uber…
“Okay, relax...”
I followed him as he headed towards a door leading to an elevator. He held the elevator door irritably, while I put my headphones in my bag, turned it off, and rearranged my hair behind me.
“I really don’t have time,” he breathed, annoyed.
“I didn’t ask you to escort me here. Nikolai could have just sent me the address or even sent someone else who would be less…psychotic.”
He moved to the back of the elevator after entering a code and positioned himself in the corner, casting a glance at me before saying with a smirk, “No, it had to be me.”
The elevator went up, and the seconds seemed endless with him behind me and the mirror in front showing how uncomfortable I was because of him.
He and Nikolai were completely different. Nikolai was more talkative, more open, if I may say so. He was more agreeable, and his eyes only amplified what I thought of him.
This one, on the other hand, looked at me harshly as if at any moment he would jump on me and finish me off. He was an over-thinker; it showed in his behavior, the way he leaned against the elevator’s wall, his vacant gaze.
Sometimes he focused on his thoughts, and then his gaze drifted towards me.
The elevator doors finally opened as we found ourselves directly in an office, and Nikolai was there on the phone in front of the large windows. Dressed in a shirt and classic pants, he had rolled up his sleeves. Just as clean as the last time I saw him.
He heard the elevator arriving and turned around, “I’ll call you back later,” he said into the phone. He then gave me a small smile as the man behind me headed towards a table next to Nikolai.
“Hello, I hope the journey wasn’t too long and that it was pleasant,” Nikolai greeted, gesturing for me to join them at the table.
“Thanks to your kind colleague, of course, the journey went well,” I replied.
Nikolai chuckled and remarked, “I’m sorry, I didn’t have a choice but to send him. Judging by your outfit, I suppose my dear colleague here interrupted one of your activities?”
I glanced towards the ‘dear colleague’ whose name I still didn’t know and sighed, “Indeed, but it’s hard to say no when you’re under threat,” I said, glaring at him.
For a brief moment, I thought I saw his lips move, and the side of his mouth lifted.
“Yes, I know he can be very authoritarian at times. Come, sit with us. Do you need anything?”
“No, thank you.”
I needed to eat, but I couldn’t bring myself to admit it. With my diabetes, I have to keep an eye on my blood sugar levels. After my morning run, I hadn’t had a chance to grab a bite. I felt hesitant to speak up about it, especially in front of them. But it’s nothing I can’t handle; I just need to keep my sugar levels steady.
I positioned myself to face the psycho and be next to Nikolai. Both seemed oddly comfortable together.
Here I am again, analyzing them.
Were they brothers? I doubted it. But the man didn’t seem sociable enough to be friends with someone as outgoing as Nikolai. And that name too, ‘Nikolai’ is a Russian name, but he’s the Don. So many questions.
My curiosity grew about the man at the end of the table, nearly reclined in his chair, fingers idly toying with something pointed—perhaps a knife? He maintained the same posture as he had at the bar, hand grazing his beard or jaw, eyes fixed on me. Normal people would stop if they were caught looking at us. But not him. In his eyes, there was distrust, a lot of hatred, and a black veil that prevented me from seeing more than that.
I hated not being able to read people. It was the only talent I had, and it was so frustrating that someone could be as incredulous and as stoic as he was. He was impenetrable, and I could only see what he allowed me to see.
My reflections were interrupted by Nikolai’s voice, “As you already know, we need your help. We are looking for the men who were there that night.”
Talking about it made my stomach churn.
Breathe Z, breathe .
“I am looking for those men too. Why are you interested in them? I thought they were part of yours,” I asked, struggling to control the flood of memories that were threatening to bring back the images from those days I’d rather forget.
The ghosts of the past sneaked into my mind, but I couldn’t afford to let them haunt me now, not when I needed every ounce of my focus.
Nikolai seemed to enjoy my question. “They have never been ours. To be honest, they are everything we hate. We don’t kill women, don’t worry. Especially when those women are just children.”
My fist clenched on the table, and I noticed amusement in the eyes of the man sitting across from me. “What do you expect from me?”
I was really starting to feel the fatigue setting in, and the lack of energy was taking effect, but I didn’t pay much attention to that.
“We would like to ally with you to use your gift. You know, you are known in the industry. The Dellé girl with doe eyes who helped her father catch liars. We want to have the same chance and find the bad guys and liars too.”
“You can still punch them to death and find out yourselves who the liars are. What do I get in return?”
“It’s up to you to say what you want,” Nikolai replied, amused, while the other man smirked, clearly entertained by our conversation.
What I wanted? Hell on earth for them.
A death so agonizing and tormented that they would beg for the end to come sooner. I needed to hear the long silence in their graves. But more than anything, I craved the moment of taking my own tormentor’s life—his suffering would be my only peace.
“I want one of the men only. One will be enough if we find them. And I want you to leave him to me.”
Nikolai raised an eyebrow in surprise, while the psycho continued to stare at me. “That can be arranged,” he finally agreed.
Those words filled me with a sense of vindication.
I could finally take revenge.
“I would’ve liked to agree so easily, but I think my father doesn’t necessarily appreciate you. So, it’s going to be complicated for me to make an alliance with his enemies without risking a lot.”
Nikolai stood up from his seat, hands in his pockets, while his friend remained silent, eyes fixed on me.
He never looked away—not when I caught him, not when Niko spoke. Not for a single second did he break his gaze. He watched me obsessively, analyzing every breath I took, every blink of my eyes, every movement of my lips, scrutinizing my very existence.
I was his sole focus in that room.
And I was hyper-aware of it. The scariest part was how natural it felt, as if he had always been watching me, lurking in the shadows. It was disturbingly normal, like this constant surveillance was simply a part of my life.
The psycho might have been my stalker in another life.
“I know. That’s why I wanted to make sure first that we were on the same page about this. For the rest, don’t worry. I promise you my protection and that of my entire clan if you help us in this quest. Against any enemy, we will be there,” Nikolai assured me, his voice filled with conviction.
He seemed sincere. His eye contact was steady, his speech was smooth without a hint of stuttering, no signs of sweating, and his shoulders relaxed.
Okay, so he’s not lying.
He really didn’t want anything to happen to me. What I don’t understand is why me? Why them? What did Nikolai of the Zennites and his colleague want so much to the point where they would recruit me, the daughter of one of their biggest enemies?
“I’ll think about it; give me a few days,” I replied.
I rose from my seat, but before I could comprehend what was happening, I stumbled, only to be caught by Nikolai’s large hand. “Hey, what’s happening? I hope Elijah didn’t do anything wrong by bringing you back,” he reassured me with a hint of humor, trying to ease my discomfort.
I attempted to regain my composure, but even at this moment, the first thing I thought about was that now I had a name. So, his name was Elijah?
Nikolai straightened me up, but I found myself unable to stand any longer. I started to lose my sense of hearing; cold sweat began to trickle down my skin.
I felt him starting to panic, but my hearing was weak and I was too exhausted to focus. He turned toward Elijah and whispered something, while I just let go, dizzy and tired, “You know her better. What’s happening?”
Elijah stood without a word, swiftly taking me out of Nikolai’s grasp and lifting me up calmly in his arms. “Go get Ben. I’ll take care of her,” he ordered, his voice calm, serenity filling his words.