Chapter 2
Mia
The first thing I do when I get in is head to the bathroom. I tie up my hair, strip out of my tight red dress, and get into the shower. I wash off my makeup along with my day, leaving Mia the brand behind until tomorrow. Because that’s all I am when I’m out there. I have a job to do, and I take my role in the Guerra seriously. But that’s my job, and now it’s me time. Once I’m makeup free and refreshed, I put on my comfy shorts, vest top, and trainers and head out.
The smell as I go outside has me smiling. The back of my house is surrounded by fruit trees. Trees I planted when I moved here. The Guerras are known for their lemons, but I prefer apples and oranges. I pull an apple from the tree and bring it to my lips, and I inhale before taking a bite. So delicious and juicy. After pottering around my garden for ten minutes, I mount my quad bike, which is parked at the side of the house. I quickly start the engine and ride through the acres of land to my sanctuary.
As I pull up, Alfie, Emmaline’s son, comes out to meet me. He waves, excitedly beckoning me to get in quickly.
“It’s time, Mia. Come quick. Rosie’s having her babies.”
Sure enough, when I enter, I find Emmaline comforting our latest rescue, a spaniel cross who is in full labour.
“Wow, Rosie, you’re doing so well. You’re such a good girl.” I give her head a stroke and scratch behind her ears.
“Hey, you’re distracting her,” Emmaline jokes, batting me away. Emmaline just wants the best view. She has been caring for Rosie for the past week, making sure everything was ready for the new arrivals. By the looks of the labouring mother, the puppies should arrive very soon. It’s only fair that Emmaline gets to see all the best bits.
Soon enough, the puppies arrive one by one. Emmaline checks them over and hands them to the new mum to clean and feed. Alfie and I watch in awe, the miracle of life happening before us. We now have five new animals to take care of in the sanctuary, however these little beauties will be adopted once they’re old enough. That takes our current total to 105.
I opened the sanctuary about twelve months ago when my house got too crowded with the dogs and cats I had taken in. Most of the animals I rescue are strays. The poor things had been abandoned or were perhaps born on the streets due to their parents being previously rejected and dumped, many of them with medical conditions. Most of the animals won’t ever leave the sanctuary. People don’t want to adopt an animal with extra needs and additional expenses or an older animal that only has a few years left. This was my reason for taking all these animals in. I want every animal to live all their days, especially their last days, in a comfortable, loving environment. That is what I have created here in the sanctuary.
I designed the building myself, as a home from home. There are no cages or crates. We have a living room with sofas and chairs, bean bags, and rugs. There’s a fireplace and a television. All the windows are to the floor so the animals can sit and look outside. The dogs especially enjoy barking at the postman when he arrives—oh, and the window cleaners get a good barking at too.
Then we have the playroom, where the dogs and cats play with toys and run and climb on the soft play equipment. The kitchen has separate areas where the animals can eat individually or as a group. Some of the animals, when they arrive, aren’t used to being in such close proximity with other animals, especially another species of animal. It doesn’t usually take long for them to settle in, though. The eating situation, however, can be a bit difficult. We cater for all their needs, even the grumpy ones who don’t like to share.
The bathroom has walk-in showers and a big, raised bath. In the bedroom, we make sure there is a suitable bed or basket for each animal. They’re each given a new one with their name on it when they arrive. Funnily enough, most of the animals stick to their own beds. We also have extras in there and large cushions in foam kennels in case any of them want to snuggle up, which many do. We dim the light in here during the day. We do this so that the older ones always have a place to go that is calm and relaxed. Each room has a dog and cat flap that take them outside to the business area. These areas are restricted and were designed purely for them to do their business .
Outside, we have acres and acres of grass and woodland that the animals get to explore every day. The sanctuary is also starting to expand with other animals now. It wasn’t planned, but how could I say no to a three-legged rabbit and a blind guinea pig? That’s the next project. A barn building of some description, as it looks like we will also be taking on chickens and a pair of billy goats.
I fund the sanctuary myself, but I have a long list of volunteers who love and care for the animals. We do a lot of pet therapy sessions. Some we run here, where people will come and look after them for day, go for a walk with them, or just sit and watch television with them. Then we have days where we take some of our more relaxed animals out into the community, nursing homes, hospitals and so on, like a therapy treatment. I do have my paid staff who do these activities and run the sanctuary twenty-four-seven. Although I pay the expenses, we do charge for some things, like the sale of puppies and the training and experience days we run. Even though the sanctuary is a charity, we cannot have civilians thinking the Guerra are soft. No, the only reason I am allowed to own such an organisation as this is that—how did my father put it again? Ahh yes, it “enforces once again that the Guerra are in charge of everything, even charity.”
Emmaline is one of my volunteers. She and Alfie come up here twice a week. Alfie adores the animals. He wants to be a vet when he’s older. Emmaline refuses to take any payment for her time, as she says she does it because she enjoys it, and it’s something she and Alfie can do together. So instead, I give the money to Alfie. I’m not sure about Emmaline’s money situation. They live a modest life in a nice three-bed cottage, but Emmaline doesn’t work, and my instinct tells me she isn’t very wealthy.
Once all the puppies have been checked and have their coloured ribbon collars so we can tell them apart, Emmaline and Alfie settle them in a quiet area of the bedroom. Alfie kisses each one good night, promising to see them tomorrow.
“Thank you so much for your help today, Alfie. Here are your wages.” I hand Alfie an envelope.
“Thanks, Mia. You know I’m saving up for my own sanctuary just like this. And then, when I’m a vet, I am going to make all the sick animals better.”
“I know you will, Alfie. You will be a very good vet too.”
Alfie beams, and the two of them leave along with their dog Macy, who always comes with them for a play with the other animals.
The rest of the evening passes quickly. There’s always something that needs doing. A puddle made by one of the older ones who didn’t make it outside or a laundry wash that needs going on. Once we are straight, I settle down in the living area on one of the bean bags. As soon as my bum touches down, I’m swarmed with furballs. Everyone wants cuddles and scratches behind their ears. This is my favourite part of the day.
I’m just dozing off when my phone rings. It’s my brother Van.
“Mia?!” There’s no pleasantries from my brother. Straight to the point.
“Van, how are you?”
“There’s an event tomorrow I need you to attend. Lorenzo’s throwing himself a coronation party.” Van continues, ignoring my question.
“A what? Is that a thing when someone becomes the Chief of Police?” I ask.
“No. It’s a coverup for something. I need you go and find out who is there. See what you can find out.”
“Yes, no problem. Where and when?”
“Villa Mico. The car will pick you up at 7:30 p.m.” And the line goes dead.
“Yeah, see ya, brother,” I mumble to myself. Well, I better get to bed. Looks like I have a late night ahead of me tomorrow.
Before I go to sleep, I text Lucia and Marisa, who respond immediately. They are always up for a free glam night out. Both of them are good at influencing the opposite sex—and the same sex for that matter. I have no doubt the three of us will get what Van needs.
The girls arrive just after noon. They immediately raid my walk-in wardrobe for their outfits and accessories.
“Oh wow, Mia, when did you get this?” Lucia walks back into my bedroom holding a red silk dress against herself.
“That one arrived last week. There’s another box in the corner with more from the same designer.”
Marisa’s ears prick up, and she instantly goes in search of said box.
“You can wear anything you want, bar that one, Lucia,” I tell her.
“Of course. Red is your colour.” Lucia blows me a kiss.
Red is my signature colour. It may be my full outfit, my accessories, or just my lips, but you will always see Mia Alboni wearing red, the colour of blood.
Marisa undresses before trying on a number of the samples.
“I wish people would send me free stuff. You’re so lucky, Mia.”
I definitely would not call myself lucky. Sure, being who I am, in the family I was born into, does have its perks. But it also comes with a whole lot of shit.
Not breaking my character, even in front of my friends, I reply sternly, “Nothing is free, Marisa.” Standing up from my bed where I have been watching them, I glare at her. “If they want the protection of the Guerra, they must pay for it.”
“Of course. I didn’t mean….”
“Whatever. I have something to take care of before I get ready. The makeup and hair stylists will be here any minute. You two go first.”
I leave the room, slamming the door slightly as I leave. I’m not in the mood for their materialistic nonsense right now. Unfortunately, we lost one of our dogs last night. He was an old boy and had lived his best life since he was brought here twelve months ago. But Barney the Second meant a lot to me. He was the first dog I rescued when I opened the sanctuary. He had reminded me of the first dog I ever rescued off the street.
When I was twelve, a dog followed me home from school. He had a limp in his front paw. He was obviously a street dog and had wanted help. When I got home, I took him into our shed and looked at his paw. He was so gentle and let me clean the wound he had in his pad. I found a small piece of glass, which I removed. Once I cleaned it and put a bandage around it, he gave me so may kisses as if he was thanking me. For weeks, I looked after him, feeding him and playing with him after school, until one day I came home and found him with a bullet in his head. My dad had found him. I broke down in tears, cradling his limp blood-covered body.
“You will learn from this, Mia,” my father boomed from behind me. “You are an Alboni. Part of the Guerra. Never get attached to anything or anyone. Attachment makes you weak.” He then threw me a spade.
“Get rid of it,” he spat.
Growing up, I knew my dad was a bad man. But that was the first time I realised how cruel he could be. And it only got worse after that.
I carried horrendous guilt with me from then on. If only I had let Barney the First go after I had healed his paw, he would have lived. So, when I saw Barney the Second on the same street all those years later, I knew what I had to do. If my dad dares to come near any of my animals now, I will put a bullet in his head before I let them be harmed, and he knows it. I’m not a soft little girl anymore.
When I arrive at the sanctuary, I find Emmaline and Alfie at the memorial area. Barney the Second isn’t the first animal we have lost, and he won’t be the last. But it doesn’t get any easier for any of us. All the staff gather round as his ashes are scattered. A perk of being part of the Guerra is that I get to use the company furnace. Alfie reads a poem, and we all take a minute to reflect on our fur friend’s cheekiness.
“Be careful tonight, Mia,” Emmaline warns as we make our way back to my house.
I don’t involve Emmaline in of the Guerra business, but I do tell her what my plans are.
“Don’t worry about me. Just a regular night for Mia Alboni.” I gently squeeze her hand that she has looped through my arm.
We discuss plans for the sanctuary over a coffee in my kitchen. I had almost forgotten about my evening out until the girls shouted to hurry me up. After seeing Emmaline and Alfie out, I head up to my dressing room. Lucia and Marisa’s voices are high-pitched and louder than usual, meaning they are already drunk. Great. The dressing room is a mess—clothes and accessories all over the floor, champagne glasses everywhere, and what looks like fake tan spilt over my white carpet. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath.
“Mia, come on. Where have you been?” Marisa beckons me over.
“We’ve started without you. You’ll have to catch up. Here.” Lucia pours, then hands me a glass of whatever they’re drinking.
After a quick shower, I sit at my dressing table to get my hair and makeup done. Van has sent me some photos of men to look out for and instructions on what to do. I do a little research on these men myself. Van never tells me exactly what is going on, but I usually find out my own way.
The limo arrives at 7:30 on the dot, and we also have an SUV of men that follow behind us. Not that I need protection. I could take any of those men down in two seconds flat. On the way, I give the girls their instructions.
“We need as much information as possible. Their names, where they are from, and why they are there.” The girls nod in unison. “That means everyone attending the party—men, women, old, young—not just the attractive men, Marisa, okay?”
“Got it,” Marisa confirms.
We touch up our lipstick and respray our perfume before leaving the limo. With our heads head high and our shoulders back, in our unison walk the girls and I have down to a tee, we strut up the red carpet to the entrance. I notice the two doormen frantically looking through the papers on their clipboard and then back at me. I take my time walking up to them, maintaining eye contact with them. I can see sweat beginning to form on their brows.
“Gentlemen,” I say, greeting them with a smile.
They both go pale in the face.
“Miss Alboni. Tonight’s event is invitation only,” one man stutters.
“I know,” I reply sternly.
The man franticly searches through his list of names again. “I’m sorry, but I don’t see your name on the invitation list.”
“That’s because I wasn’t invited,” I reply, irritated.
The men then look at each other again, clearly deciding which they would like to save, their jobs or their lives. It doesn’t take them long to unlock the red rope stopping our entrance and wave us through. We are greeted by waiters with trays of champagne flutes and canapés. The girls take a drink each, along with a handful of food. I don’t eat at events like this, when having a nut allergy, you can never be too careful.
“Okay, let’s split up. We will meet in the ladies’ room in one hour.”
Scanning the room, I find the bar and make my way over. On the way, I am stopped by Chief Lorenzo himself.