Chapter 6
Chapter
Six
RACHEL
Ilet myself into Zoe’s old apartment. She and I have been best friends since middle school and as close as sisters since high school.
She knew me when my mom was struggling to make rent during the times Frank withheld money to punish her from whatever little thing he was pissed about.
She knew me when he refused to acknowledge that he had a bastard daughter.
She knew me when my mom decided to leave Frank and he heard about it ahead of time.
When he tried to have her killed and an innocent neighbor got killed instead.
She knows my mom escaped, but that she didn’t get to me fast enough.
Frank took me from school and brought me to his house.
He believed Mom would come back for me and he’d have her.
But she couldn’t. He would’ve just killed her if she’d come. So she didn’t.
I understand why she didn’t come back for me. It doesn’t mean it isn’t hard to take. For years, it was just the two of us. She was my world growing up. I loved her so much.
All my childhood, the thing I wanted most was for Frank to tell people I was his little girl.
I wanted him to treat me like his legitimate kids, his sons.
By the time I was a teenager, though, I was over wanting that.
He’d called me his little bastard too many times and had threatened to hurt me if I ever told anyone I was his.
I was sick of the way he treated me and my mom.
I was glad when she’d had enough. I wanted to move away to somewhere warm and pretty, somewhere where no one knew us and we didn’t have to worry that Frank would get angry and withhold something we needed.
The irony of course was that less than a year after I decided I hated my father, he brought me to live with him, announced I was his daughter, and gave me a title. The Palermo Princess. He had someone create an Instagram account and make me into a brand.
I’m up to a six hundred thousand followers. Companies send clothes and products and pay for me to endorse them. Photographers who used to charge, now take pictures for free in exchange for being able to use some of them on their own feeds.
Alberto Leone and I met at a party for the granddaughter of a New York Mafia boss.
Alberto’s only five inches taller than me.
He’s got dimples, dark curly hair, and he’s soft around the middle.
Honestly, in looks, he reminds me of a cherub.
That’s probably why I didn’t get up and walk away when he sat down and tried to talk to me that first time.
I mistakenly thought he wasn’t a threat.
And I liked his sense of humor. When my sarcasm made him laugh, he joined in by critiquing everything at the party including the people.
A lot of the women had given me dirty looks and said cutting things.
Apparently it was breaking some rule for a mob guy to bring his mistress’s daughter into the fold and expect people to treat her like a princess.
Maybe they worried their husbands would do the same?
I wanted to tell them that I didn’t want to be there.
I’d have given anything to get away from Frank and his brutal world.
After the first meeting, Alberto and I texted and talked. It was nothing at first, even though he wanted it to be a relationship. I guess my Instagram status made an impression on him and his friends. Pretty soon he commented on every picture that was posted.
Frank saw an opportunity. He started touting my purity to his New York connections.
Wouldn’t it be nice for a father and grandfather to know their son or grandson was getting a virgin on his wedding night?
It’d be like it was back in the old days.
He played it up until people were sending gifts to the house for me and for him.
I had dates with a bunch of different guys.
I could usually freeze them out with silence and cold looks, but then there were complaints.
Frank wasn’t happy. He put tons of pressure on me, even implied he’d take it out on Zoe and other people if I didn’t behave better.
Meanwhile Alberto was furious. He was at risk of losing his place.
“People think you’re my girlfriend. Then they see you on a date at the Plaza with Sal Moro. They want to know what the hell’s going on. You’re making me look bad,” he complained.
I didn’t tell him that the dates were Frank’s idea. At least I didn’t tell him at first.
Frank was still hunting my mom, and he’d gotten a big lead. I got a message to her just in time, but the perpetual fear that he’d catch up to her and kill her finally got to me.
I convinced Alberto that Frank had taken control of my social life and there were three other men higher on the list than Alberto was.
I told him some of the terrible things Frank had done to my mom and me and that I’d had enough.
If Alberto wanted me and wanted me to be free to concentrate on a relationship with him, he’d find a way to get me out of Frank’s house once and for all.
When it came to syndicate business, Alberto was not a cherub.
He’d grown up among killers and controlled a big part of his family’s operation.
I fed him information, and he sent a team.
They were supposed to help me escape while Frank was in a backroom poker game at a club.
He always arrived first to have dinner. He only took the snake Pauly Mangia as his bodyguard on those nights, so one of the young guys would be sent to pick me up from school.
If I snuck out early, I could get away before the enforcer arrived.
Unbeknownst to me, Alberto’s team had other orders.
He decided the best way to have me to himself was to get rid of Frank completely.
There was another concern though. Connor McCann’s reputation had reached New York.
Some of the bosses had met him at a meeting.
Alberto was worried that C would retaliate for Frank’s murder, so he was on the team’s hit list, too.
Things went wrong. People had noticed the arrival of a group of New York Mafia guys in Coynston. As head of the city, people called to ask Frank who they were and why they were in town.
Frank was shot twice in the chest in the parking lot of Slattery’s Pub. It would’ve killed him if not for the Kevlar vest he wore under his suit. A splinter group had gone after C. Sasha was shot during the fight.
Unbelievably, Alberto and his family were able to smooth things over.
They said I told him Frank was physically abusing me.
Alberto had fallen for my lies and ordered the hits because he loved me.
If Frank could see his way clear to forgive the attempted murders, Alberto and his family would make amends.
Frank made a deal with the Leones, and he made one with me. If I behaved myself and married Alberto Leone, he wouldn’t kill Zoe as retaliation for my betrayal. He’d even stop hunting my mom. He didn’t care that much about finding her anymore anyway, he said.
It was an easy decision. I got to protect all the people I care about, with the promise of getting out of Frank’s house within a year.
All I need to do is marry a man I don’t love and can’t trust.
ANVIL
The sky’s spitting drizzle as I head back to the Range Rover. I’ll wait till nightfall to switch it out for the car. Now that everyone’s looking for Rachel, they’ll be watching us closer than ever. I look up at the gray sky. Night can’t come fast enough. I don’t want her in the woods alone.
I also want to get near her again. I keep thinking about fucking her. I keep remembering the shower.
“‘Vil!” Trick calls.
I look up, forcing myself to get a grip.
He jogs around and holds up his phone. Our phones were off and tucked under the seat of the truck while we were in the motel room. We don’t bring commercial spyware into our meetings.
“What?” I ask.
“Rachel’s been spotted.”
I jerk the door open. “Where?” I ask, my mind considering the houses on neighboring properties to the cabin.
“She’s at Zoe’s old apartment.”
My mind hangs up for a moment, trying to sort that out. That’s miles from the cabin. “Alone?”
“Sounds like it.”
I get behind the wheel and slam the door closed. If Trick’s heard, so has Frank.
I gun the engine and swing the car around. Trick and C are silent as I race back to Coynston. When I get to Zoe’s complex, the parking lot is a zoo. I spot Frank’s limo and some other Palermo cars, but there are also police cars.
I’m halfway to the building by the time C and Trick flank me.
“What are we doing?” Trick asks.
“Stop,” C says, moving in front of me.
I jerk to a stop. “I’m going up.”
“Let me go,” C says in a low voice. “I’ll see what’s what.”
I start to move around him, but they both block me. I glare at Trick, but I know they’re both right. My head is not straight. I expected her to be where I left her, but she’s not. So now the only thing I can think about is taking possession of her again.
“It’s Zoe’s place. She’s Zoe’s friend. Let C go in first,” Trick says.
I nod, but I don’t stay in the lot. I follow C up the stairs.
Frank and four of his guys are on the landing. The apartment door’s closed.
“Cops inside,” Trick murmurs.
He says it as a warning to me, and I nod.
“This isn’t your block anymore,” C says to Frank.
“Something of mine is here. So I’m here. Why are you here?” Frank asks, staring us down. He’d be a moron not to suspect that we had a hand in Rachel’s disappearance, but normally when we take something from him, it stays taken. So there’s a chance he won’t connect things unless she tells him.
Of course, she’ll tell him, I think. Why wouldn’t she?
The door opens, and cops come out. “You can clear this area. Ms. Palermo’s all right. She’s staying at her friend’s place. It was a misunderstanding.”
Frank turns and reaches for the door handle. The door’s locked.