Chapter 7 #2
“Umm, the guards usually wait out there,” I tell him.
“Not until I clear the space.”
“Okay,” I draw out the word, noticing he seems more rigid than usual.
Val smirks at him, watching with an amused expression as he checks the room for invisible threats. When none turn up, he exits to the hall and shuts the door behind him.
“Who’s the new beefcake?” Chantel leans back in her office chair, snapping a piece of red licorice between her teeth.
“His name is Julian.”
“What happened to your other guard?” Mariella asks.
“No idea. Julian replaced him without an explanation.”
“We’re just waiting on Lucia and Serafina.” Abella pats the space beside her. “Come sit next to me.”
I sit down and adjust Beppe in my hoodie, eyeing the pile of candy and juice-sized boxes of wine on the table.
“Let me guess. It was Chantel’s turn to bring snacks?”
“Is it that obvious?” She laughs.
“I’m not complaining.” I reach for a cotton candy lollipop and ply it from its wrapper before I shove it in my mouth.
We spend the next five minutes catching up, plowing through a variety of topics in rapid fire. This tends to happen when we get together, and everything spirals into chaos.
“Hey.” Chantel lowers her voice, alerting us that she has a juicy bit of gossip. “The Cat House is hosting a Halloween event this year called Davenport Manor After Dark. They’re marketing it as a night of erotic horror. Masked men. Primal play. All the good stuff.”
“Really?” I perk up. “I’ve always wanted to go there.”
“You know the place?” She quirks a brow at me.
I nod, giving her a brief rundown of its history. The Davenport Manor was once owned by a showman and his acrobat wife.
Victor and Maribel Davenport made their fortune in the 1920s when his designs for funhouses and spooky attractions became so popular, he franchised them.
With their newfound wealth, they settled in Seattle, building an eccentric mansion that recreated his designs throughout the estate's rooms. In the summer and fall, the couple would open it to the locals.
For a decade, the mansion hosted Gatsbyesque parties, adults-only performances, and soirees in their underground speakeasy.
It was a booming party scene until one summer, the Davenports traveled to Chicago’s World Fair to present Victor’s latest invention.
During that presentation, the moving platform he designed malfunctioned mid-performance, and Maribel fell to her death.
In the aftermath of the tragedy, Victor was so wracked with guilt, he shuttered the manor and left Seattle, never to be seen again.
He was presumed to have ended his life, and the mansion sat abandoned before it was seized for unpaid taxes.
It was later purchased by The Society, and it’s been used for private events ever since.
When we were teenagers, Romeo promised he’d take me there someday, even if he had to break in to do it.
We both loved carnivals and haunted houses, and the secrecy of the manor drew us in.
But it wasn’t just that. It was the idea of a love so enduring, all the wealth in the world couldn’t keep them apart. It felt like a Shakespearean tragedy.
“I don’t suppose you can get us in?” I ask Chantel.
Most of the girls laugh like I’m joking, but Abella shoots me a knowing look.
“I wish I could.” Chantel shrugs. “But it’s invite-only, and they have to be sent by a member of IVI. They gave invitations to all the dancers, but they’re non-transferable.”
“Are you going?” Abella asks her.
“Maybe on my own. Marco isn’t that adventurous. But I was thinking you might tell Angelo about it. I bet he’d totally go for it, and I know you love a good chase.”
Abella blushes, and I don’t have to guess she’s probably thinking about one of the many times her husband has railed her in a mask.
“Some women have all the luck.” I sigh.
“Please spare me the details of my brother’s alter ego,” Mariella groans.
The door swings open, and Serafina and Lucia walk in, offering us apologetic smiles. “Sorry we’re late.”
“All good,” Mariella tells them. “It’s perfect timing. Have a seat, and we’ll get started in just a minute.”
The girls each grab a chair and settle in as Mariella shoots off a quick text.
A minute later, the door opens again, and Angelo and Romeo join us.
My chest squeezes as I make eye contact with Romeo and nearly choke on my lollipop. He raises a brow, probably wishing that I would.
“What are they doing here?” Lucia asks.
“I asked them to come,” Mariella says, hesitating a moment before she continues. “As you all know, this last year has been a challenge with Angelo hindering—”
“Being the voice of reason,” he interjects.
“Right.” Mariella rolls her eyes. “Anyway, negotiations have dragged on forever, but I think we’ve finally reached a compromise.”
“What is it?” Val asks.
“We need to pivot to less obvious practices,” Angelo announces. “Disappearing women raises too many red flags, and it’s only a matter of time before you’re exposed.”
“So what are we supposed to do?” Serafina frowns.
“Deal with the root of the problem,” Mariella explains.
“I can grudgingly admit that, as many women as we’ve helped, there’s always been one fatal flaw in this plan.
We can move them out of the country, get them new identities, and start fresh, but it’s never a guarantee that they won’t be tracked down or recognized at some point.
The only fail-proof option is eliminating the threats entirely. ”
The room falls silent as everyone processes that information.
It’s not really a shocking development, considering we’ve handed out poison to the women we couldn’t safely remove.
In those cases, the wives had to kill their husbands themselves.
But Mariella has also had to use lethal measures during a few incidents.
Those were always last-resort options though.
“I thought that was the entire reason we had to hit pause.” Val looks at Angelo. “You didn’t want us involved in something so risky.”
“I still don’t,” he says. “That’s why we’ll be handling that part from now on.”
I glance between the two men as an unsettling realization hits me. When he says we, he really means Romeo. His job in the Cosa Nostra is to get rid of people, and up until now, it’s always felt like some distant, mysterious thing. But this is different.
A weird, panicky feeling washes over me as I consider how dangerous this could be for him.
“I don’t like this idea.” The words slip out before I can stop them.
Everyone swings their gazes to me, including Romeo, and I shoot him a glare to hide my feelings.
“Gabs.” Abella leans closer, lowering her voice. “What’s going on?”
She can tell I’m upset, but I couldn’t rationalize it even if I tried.
“It’s just…not the way we do things.”
“I understand this is a big change.” Mariella meets my gaze. “But I’ve thought it through, and it makes sense. They can offer us protection, and we can keep the network alive.”
I can’t argue that point with her. She’s the one who created Aegis, and it’s not my place to tell her how to run it. But the idea of Romeo putting himself at risk makes me ill.
I pull the lollipop from my mouth, the sugar souring on my tongue.
“So you’re willing to betray your own brotherhood?” Chantel asks pointedly, shifting the focus to her.
“It’s not a betrayal.” Angelo’s eyes darken. “My men are held to the same standards I live by.”
“And what about The Society?” Serafina questions. “They have their own justice system. This won’t go over well if we’re exposed.”
“That won’t happen.” Angelo’s voice dips, carrying a lingering note of rage over what IVI did to him.
“How can you be so sure?” Lucia challenges. “There’s a reason we didn’t use the poison for every case. It would be suspicious—”
“We won’t use the Bellamorte,” Mariella cuts in. “It will be clean. Heart attacks, car accidents, financial problems leading to disappearances. There are plenty of options.”
A beat passes, but I can see the slow ripple of acceptance sweeping through the room. Even I can admit it’s a good strategy, with the exception of Romeo being involved.
“Why don’t we put it to a vote?” Abella suggests.
Murmurs of agreement echo around the table. Unsurprisingly, everyone votes in favor of the change.
“Alright, let’s plan on reconvening our monthly meetings,” Mariella says. “If anything else comes up in the interim, I’ll let you know.”
Chatter fills the room as I rise on stiff legs and push in my chair. When I turn around, Romeo’s standing so close I nearly collide with him.
“Don’t worry, short stack.” He plucks the lollipop from my hand and slides it into his mouth. “You won’t have to see me…much.”
An unwanted spark of heat flares as I watch him suck on the same candy I just did.
“Why are you being weird?” I peer up at him suspiciously. “Did you come here and poison that before the meeting, knowing I would take it?”
“You caught me,” he answers dryly. “That was my grand plan. Poison you first, then I’ll eat the rest. We’ll go out together.”
Okay, well, he has me there. But still, he usually avoids me like the plague. After the penthouse incident, and now this, it seems like he’s going out of his way to throw me off balance.
His eyes track over my body in a slow, controlled scan, like he’s deciding what to use against me next.
“I see you wore your tiny stilts today.” He bumps his boot against my white shoe. “Wondering what it’s like to be a member of the five-foot club?”
I glance down at my platform sneakers and frown. “I’m already five feet, thank you very much.”
“Sure you are.”
I shouldn’t take the bait, but sometimes, I can’t help myself.
“It must be hard for you when the only thing you have going for you is your height. But at least it’s something, I guess.”
It’s a blatant lie, but it gives me a moment of satisfaction.