Chapter Sixteen
Lorena
Uncle Pedro grins widely, showcasing a gold tooth that twinkles under the dim light. “It’s so good to see you again, Laura,” he says, walking towards me to caress my cheek.
That name. I haven't answered to that name in five years. I stopped being that person— shed that identity the day I escaped from my uncle's grasp.
I grind my molars together as he caresses my cheeks again, looking at me with an unreadable emotion in his eyes. “I missed you terribly,” he says in a low voice.
I bite my tongue to stop myself from saying something he wouldn’t like, like how I don’t miss him at all.
“Where exactly are we?” I finally settle on saying.
Looking around us, I take in my surroundings. The room looks like an old and abandoned warehouse. Several boxes line the wall opposite to me. A single lightbulb that doesn’t seem like it works is hanging from the ceiling above. A long table with a few chairs is by my left, covered with a thick coating of dust. The smell is thick in the air, making my throat itch and my eyes burn.
A small window sits high up the right wall which lets a line of moonlight into the room. On my left is a large door, also covered in dust. At first, I assume that it must lead into another room, but then I imagine that it must be filled with some of the boxes I see around. This must be one of Uncle Pedro's hideouts.
“An old warehouse of mine,” he says with a smile. Then, he snaps his fingers at one of his men. “Untie her.”
Anger fills me as someone undoes the rope around my wrists. “And why did you have to kidnap me like I’m some criminal?”
“If I had asked you to come, would you have left your new life in Sicily to come see your old Uncle in New York?” he asks.
When I remain silent, he smirks. “I had to take matters into my own hands.”
The truth sinks in slowly. “Your men have been tailing me for weeks.”
“You were quite hard to find, I'll give you that. Running away, changing your identity, starting anew in Sicily—it's impressive. I taught you well,” he remarks, having the nerve to sound proud.
All Uncle Pedro taught me was how to kill. I ran away before he could turn me into his personal killing machine—his pawn.
My throat clogs up as I swallow the words that threaten to spill out of them. Uncle Pedro smiles, stretching his hand out for me.
“Come on now. You must be famished after your journey here,” he says, his tone softened from its earlier harshness. “Apologies for the behavior of my men. They're not exactly well-known for their gentlemanly manners. I've prepared a wonderful dinner for us to celebrate this reunion.”
I inwardly scoff before placing my now free hand into his rough palms.
“My little girl. I missed you so much,” he says, pulling me into a side hug as I stand up.
“Do you know how worried I was when I couldn’t find you? I thought one of my enemies had kidnapped you. The only way I could believe that you ran from me was because your friend also went missing around that same time.”
He is referring to Maximo, and my heart lurches in my throat. If he was able to find me, then Maximo couldn’t be far off.
“How could you do that to your old man? How could you leave me like that? Did you plan on giving me a heart attack?”
I smile at him, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. “You can’t die from a heart attack. You are above that.”
Uncle Pedro always told me how he would never die a shameful death. After years of ruling the Cuban mafia, he would die a powerful death, and legendary tales would be told about him.
He barks out a loud laugh. “You remember. Of course, you do. I taught you well.”
Again, that phrase. He didn't track me down out of paternal affection. He acts like he genuinely cares about me, but he can only keep that act on for a short time. His true intentions for seeking me out will be revealed soon.
We leave the warehouse and enter a black Escalade already open and waiting for us. The car leads us further into the compound, and that is when a large house comes into view.
“One of my most recent acquisitions,” he announces proudly.
The short drive comes to an end as the car stops in front of the building. We step down from the car, and he leads us into the house.
White walls with gold accents, dark wooden floors covered with red plush carpeting and a big chandelier hanging high above, invites us into the space. Soft lights illuminate the entire room, lighting up the extravagant paintings on the wall. A large fireplace is lit in one corner of the living room, creating a welcoming atmosphere. There are bookshelves lining all four sides of the room.
“Why did you buy and decorate a house in New York of all places?” I ask as he leads me to the dining room.
A long table with a white linen tablecloth is laid out in the middle of the dining room for dinner. A different assortment of dishes is already sitting on the table. A rich smell and mixture of aromas waft through the air. As we walk into the room, my stomach grumbles.
“I visit New York frequently for business meetings. Staying in hotels during every visit was getting old, you know,” he says with a smile playing on his lips.
We take our seats at the table, and Uncle Pedro quickly dives into his food. I watch him for a beat, and memories from years ago assault my memory.
We used to eat together, just like we are doing now, after each successful training. He would rain praises on me, telling me that I would grow to be the strongest assassin in Cuban empire history.
After my parents and sister were killed, Uncle Pedro, Dad’s younger brother, took over as the head of the Cuban empire. He also took me in to live with him. During our first few years of living together, I was a depressed and traumatized child. I had a series of nightmares from watching my family get killed, I was scared of guns, blood and anything that had to do with violence.
I grew from a traumatized child to a depressed teenager. The moment I turned thirteen, my training began. He trained me personally, teaching me how to fight, use weapons and eventually, how to kill. The sole purpose of my entire life became devoted to killing Uncle Pedro’s enemies. And after every successful mission, we would have dinners like this. While he praised me for being a prodigy, I sank further into depression. I had turned into the same people who had killed my family. I had become a murderer.
I was sixteen when I started planning my escape. Maximo and I became friends in our sophomore year of high school. We became closer, and along the line, we got to know each family’s secrets. That was when we realized that we both had something in common—we both wanted to run away.
“So, of all places to run to, why did you choose Sicily?” Uncle Pedro’s gruff voice brings me back to the present.
Because it was the one place I never thought you’d find me , I’m tempted to say.
“Culinary school,” I say instead, before taking a forkful of a savory meatball into my mouth.
He nods in approval. “Ah. How could I forget you’re a chef now? Running that anonymous page of yours. Very smart…”
I swear to God if he says he taught me well again…
Thankfully, he doesn’t.
It doesn’t shock me now that he knows about my anonymous page. If he was able to monitor my movements in Sicily and follow me all the way to New York, then he surely knows about the anonymous account.
“Why didn’t you fight the men that kidnapped you? If you wanted to escape them, you would have,” he says again, regarding me with an assessing look.
When I don’t reply immediately, he smirks.
“You needed to confirm who was trailing you,” he concludes, his tone both chilling and knowing.
I gulp. Even though those men outnumbered me, I could have still fought them if I wanted to. They hadn’t even drugged me, and yet I just let them take me.
Uncle Pedro continues. “You could have easily defeated them, but you pretended to be defenseless.”
“Being shadowed constantly was exhausting,” I say casually, even though my heart is pounding harshly against the walls of my chest.
“I commend you for being able to run away and stay hidden from me. I would admit, it was difficult to find you at first. For two years, I searched for you. When I later found you, I decided to let you live your life the way you wanted. You know, I could tell that you were no longer happy with those missions I sent you on…”
“I was never happy,” I interrupt him. His green eyes darken slightly, but the expression quickly disappears as he blinks.
“Yes. And I must say, I was pissed when you left. Remember when I used to say that your destiny is to end the lives of those who ruined our family?”
His words were mere manipulation to coerce me into eliminating his adversaries for him. I never got to end the lives of those who actually killed my parents and sister.
“Maybe it was once my destiny, but that changed when I left,” I say in a soft and careful tone.
My uncle might be treating me nicely now, but I know what he can be like if he doesn’t get what he wants.
Uncle Pedro smirks, and a sinking feeling hits me.
“Your destiny never changed. Instead, the universe led you straight to it,” he says with a gleam in his eyes.
My stomach churns. “What do you mean?”
“You've been consorting with the enemy.”
He chuckles darkly when I continue to stare at him blankly.
“Leonardo Vitale, your new boss, is Leonardo Rizzo, the son of Ares Rizzo…”
The man who killed my parents.
My stomach churns, threatening to throw up everything I just ate.
This cannot be possible. It can’t be…
“After Ares died, Leonardo changed the family name to Vitale, his mother’s surname. Ares Rizzo had acquired a lot of enemies in his lifetime, so his son wanted their business and mafia empire to start on a new slate…”
Uncle Pedro’s words go over my head as my breathing becomes labored. I’ve been living with my parent’s murderer for weeks, working for him, letting him touch me and bring me pleasure.
“Leonardo was the young boy with Ares that day,” I finally manage to whisper.
My uncle nods. “They wanted to wipe out our family so that they could take over the Cuban empire. Ares didn’t succeed, but his son has taken over, and he has started hatching plans to take over the empire again. You need to go after him. You need to get revenge.”
I don’t fucking care about the Cuban empire. The moment I left Florida, I left the mafia and everything that had to do with it behind.
The only thing I care about is ending the life of the man who killed my sister.
My breath hitches as I’m thrown back to that day. I’d watched the way he raised the gun to her head before I closed my eyes. When I heard the gunshot, I imagined he had shot her in the head, just like his father had shot my parents.
“The moment I trained you for all those years has finally fallen like a platter into your hands,” Uncle Pedro says.
His chair screeches against the tiled floor as he gets on his feet. Coming to stand beside me, he places a heavy hand on my shoulder.
“It is time to finally get revenge.”
After dinner, Uncle Pedro drives me back to the hotel. When I enter the penthouse suite, I see no signs of Leo. I retire into my bedroom, and not even a wink of sleep crosses my eyes till the next morning.
The next morning, I emerge from my room to find Leo has flown separately. He's secured a first-class ticket for my journey home—a relief, as I doubt, I would be able to sit in the same space with him for hours without killing him.
That would ruin the already perfect plan I spent the night hatching.
I gather my meager belongings, my mind whirling with thoughts the whole time.Something about the whole thing doesn’t sit right with me. My mind keeps switching from wondering if my uncle is lying to what possible reason would he have to lie.
Just as I grab my burner phone to throw it into my purse, it buzzes with a message. I immediately grab the phone and open the message. The four words on the screen make my blood go cold.
DO NOT TRUST PEDRO.
I try to call Maximo for an explanation of his cryptic message. The call rings and rings without a reply, which leaves a sense of dread at the pit of my stomach. The one rule Max and I abided religiously by was to always have our phones at hand to pick calls from each other. It could be the difference between life and death for us.
I slip into the elevator with my luggage and ride down to the ground floor. I suddenly don’t feel all that safe in New York anymore. Does Max know something? Is uncle Pedro lying after all? I need answers and I need them fast.
The ride to the airport is tense for me. I feel like I’m about to explode. I am lucky that the cab driver isn’t chatty, or maybe he reads the expression on my face and sees I am not interested in conversation. Either way, I’m grateful for the silence.
Fifteen minutes before my flight starts boarding, my phone rings. It’s an unfamiliar number, but only one person could be calling me.
“Max,” I breathe into the phone.
“You’re going to hang up, then walk calmly towards the bathroom on your extreme right, get into one of the stalls.”
Before I can say anything else, the line goes dead. I resist the urge to look over my shoulder to check if I have a tail. I follow Maximo’s instructions, unbothered by how he knows my location.
Just as soon as I walk into one of the stalls and sit on the covered toilet lid, my phone rings again.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“I think I’m just being a bit paranoid because Pedro found you,” he spits out the name like he’s trying to get rid of a bad taste in his mouth.
“You know about that,” I sigh into the phone, “are you safe?”
“Forget about me, I’m fine. I ditched my old phone and changed location. What did Pedro have to say?”
I recount my conversation with him, feeling my anger spike up once again. For so long, I have dreamed of having my revenge on those who took my family from me. At one point, I had given up, my resounding lack of success in locating the murderers making me lose hope. Now, I was so close to my vengeance, I could almost taste it on my tongue.
“Don’t trust that bastard,” Max says when I’m done talking.
“He has no reason to lie,” I argue, “and it all makes sense now; why I wasn’t able to find the killers, why my new boss is so feared, why my bags had to be scanned before I could enter the estate. The Vitale are mafioso, and not just any type of Mafioso. They are dangerous and feared, and Leonardo is the one who killed my sister.
“Can you just give me some time to dig deeper?” Maximo asks, frustration bleeding through his voice. “From what I’ve discovered already, something big happened fifteen years ago, but a lot of it has been covered up by someone powerful. My best guess is Leonardo tried to bury everything, but I’m close to making a breakthrough, I can feel it.”
I don’t understand why he’s still contesting this. I’m suddenly mad at him for not being completely on the side of my revenge. My whole life has been leading up to this moment and I won’t let anything stop me now.
“There’s no time, Maximo,” I say sternly. “It’s now or never. This is my one chance to kill Leonardo. He could discover who I really am any minute, and I’ll lose my advantage.”
Maximo makes a sound of disapproval. “This is crazy, Laura.”
My heart clenches at hearing my real name from him. Soon, I’ll be free to be Laura again.
“You can’t just kill him based off of what Pedro said. Don’t forget that your uncle is the same man who tried to turn you into his killing machine. You left that life once, but you’re letting yourself get pulled back into being Pedro’s puppet.”
“His story lines up perfectly. Leonardo and I are seven years apart in age. The kid who took my parents from me when I was eight was likely fourteen or fifteen. And then there's the name change…”
“Laura," he interrupts, his voice filled with concern.
“I’m not doing this for my uncle, I’m doing this for myself,” I grit out.
“How do you even intend on killing Vitale and getting away with it in a house surrounded by his men? Do you think a man like that just let’s his guard down?” he snaps. “ Think about this for God’s sake. You’re being irrational right now, and you’re going to get yourself killed.”
Maximo is right about one thing, though. I’m well aware that I’m jumping into the river without testing its depth, but in my defense, I still have the advantage of anonymity. Leonardo doesn’t know who I really am. If he did, I’d have joined my family in the afterlife the moment he clapped eyes on me.
My first idea is to poison him, but I know that I can't go the poison route. If Leonardo suddenly croaks after eating a meal prepared by me, all fingers will point at me and my head will roll beside his. I need to get him to lose his guard around me.
But how? There has to be some way to…
An idea suddenly strikes me.
Everybody has their guard down during sex, even the great Leonardo Vitale. If I can get him into bed, I am sure I can also get him to pass out or, at least, be less conscious right after the act, and then, I will slit his throat from ear to ear. Or maybe, I will not even need a bed. My mind goes to the club I heard about from the sous-chefs.
Bingo .
My lips curve up into a victorious smirk.
“Don’t worry about me, Maximo. I have a plan.”
He sighs. “I don’t think anything I say is going to change your mind, so just be careful.”
“Always.” I hang up and hurry out of the bathroom just in time to board my flight.
Throughout the flight back to Sicily, my mind is tormented by different thoughts. I want to end Leo’s life in the most painful way possible, but a part of my heart tugs in a different direction. I fight the feeling, refusing to let anything deter me from paying him back.
I get back to work immediately after I return. Josie, Hilda, and Blanco notice that there is something different about me now. I pay no attention to their questions and speculations. All I do the entire day is wait for the sun to set.
On the outside, I’m cool as a cucumber, but on the inside, I’m a mix of varying emotions, but the predominant one is rage. Rage that is vast enough to swallow me whole. I don’t let it consume me, though. I learned a long time ago that a successful mission starts from calmness, and so I do my best to stay calm.
Moreover, I don’t want to alert anyone about my plans. The last thing I need right now is to arouse suspicion.
“I’m headed out tonight,” I say to the sous-chefs right after we’re done serving dinner.
“Hot date?” Blanco asks curiously.
“Maybe,” I reply vaguely before walking up to my room.
I take a much-needed cold shower, and unlike usual, this time I take my time to curl my hair with my hot iron and apply make-up. When I’m satisfied with my appearance, eyeliner winged and dramatic and lipstick a sultry red, I slip into a deep through lingerie complete with matching thigh high pantyhose.
I throw a shirt dress over it, put on sky-high heels and a black trench coat over the whole outfit. I still don’t know how I’m going to locate Leo in the club, but I sure as hell won’t leave that club without making a leeway in my plans.
The club is on the outskirts of the city on a private patch of land accessible through a winding, single lane road. I ignore the architecture of the building and the opulence of the interior as I walk into the doors of Sinz Swing , bracing myself for what lies ahead. My eyes roam the packed space for a particular tall, gorgeous—
I halt that line of thought. I refuse to think of Leonardo as anything but a murderer. When I finally look him in the eye to blow out his brains, I don’t want to remember that I came on his fingers and his tongue.
“And what do we have here?” a voice whispers into my ear.
I freeze momentarily, cursing myself for being so distracted that I didn’t notice someone sneaking up behind me. I am losing my touch.
I turn around and meet familiar eyes shining with amusement. “Marco,” I give him a cool nod.
“What brings you by?” One brow hooks up inquisitively.
“What brings anyone to a club?” I shrug. “I wanted to let loose.”
“Did you now?” he drawls.
I go stiff with trepidation as I detect an edge in his tone. Marco isn’t buying the bullshit I’m selling. His eyes search mine for a tense second before his face lights up with a big grin.
“You can keep your secrets, Chef, but do me a favor, would you?” he chuckles. “Let’s have a bit of fun at Leo’s expense.”
“What? No. That’s insane. He’s my boss, and—”
He grabs me by the elbow and quickly steers me towards a back room before I can get my bearings. “Cut it out, Chef. You can fool anyone else, but you can’t fool me. You can’t lie to a liar. It's obvious you’re here for Leo, so indulge me.”
The room is a dressing room of sorts, but I keep my eyes firmly on Marco, wondering if he knows who I really am.
“Leo’s going to hate me for this,” he laughs to himself. “How do you feel about participating in a little game? Don’t worry, you won’t have to do much. Your part is easy, you just have to sit in a black box and let Leo come to you. I know how to make it happen.”
Can it actually be this easy? I think to myself. The person I have come for is just going to be handed to me on a silver platter?
“Is this some sort of trap?”
He gives me a look. “And why would I want to trap you?”
That is a good question. I press my lips together. “Fine. I’ll play your game.”
“Delightful.”
He walks out a moment later, leaving me in the room with my thoughts, and my heart beating a frantic rhythm in my chest.