3. Matilde
Matilde
Acaptive. Alone. Lost. A girl with no home and no family.
The men in the van had drugged me and held me in a dirty little room inside an echoing, cavernous space.
My heart learned to race with terror every time I heard the sound of men’s footsteps.
My wrists are still chaffed from the steel of handcuffs.
Their English words and American accents floated past my brain, but their smug faces are branded into my memory.
Especially the one they called the doctor.
“Still a virgin. She’ll fetch a high price. ”
I could hear other girls’ voices now and then, but I was floating in and out of reality with every tainted bottle of water they handed me. Die of thirst or drink. Lucidity or a foggy dream state. No strength to fight back.
Until now.
Hard pebbles poke my bare feet when I’m pulled out of the van several days later.
I’m blindfolded and gagged, but I can tell it’s nighttime, and the air is drier than the last time I was outside.
Father always said I was a strong girl. I have no weapon.
Could I hit this man hard enough to get away?
How far would I make it? Where would I go?
My phone, passport and money have all been taken.
“Bellissima,” a man who isn’t my captor says when the van door slides shut behind me. I assume he means me. Bought and sold.
My captor tugs at the bindings around my wrists, and I stumble through a doorway, from rough pavement to a sticky floor. I can hear loud music playing but from a distance. Maybe a nightclub? The space feels enclosed. Like a hallway.
I’m dragged along until a key rattles in a lock. “Bring her in here and keep her quiet,” my buyer says. “I need to make sure De Luca is still distracted by his pretty little whore on the dancefloor before I pay you for this treat.”
Most of the English words slip past me like gibberish, but De Luca is a common Italian surname. As soon as I have my eyes back, I’ll fight them.
But even without my vision, I notice a sudden change in the atmosphere when my captor’s hand tightens on my bindings… and then he lets go.
“My pretty little wife and I were enjoying your office until you interrupted, Beso. Who’s this?” a new voice rasps, a cold and terrifying voice.
My blindfold is snatched away, and the gag is untied.
I stagger back from yet another stranger’s unwanted touch and nearly fall before he steadies me.
Rage, like nothing I’ve ever witnessed, blazes in his blue eyes as they slide down to my bare feet and back up to my face.
He’s aiming a gun at the other two men in the room.
Behind him, a beautiful girl near my age watches everything. “Alessio?” she whispers.
Alessio. He’s tall and imposing, and there’s a tattoo across his throat – a snarling, three-headed wolf. I know that symbol. I remember things I overheard Father and Don Cicero’s other soldiers say of the American Mafia. He must be a Made Man of the Trio to have that tattoo.
“Aiutatemi!” I beg. He’ll either understand or he won’t. He’ll either help me or hurt me.
“Caterina,” he says to the woman, her name spoken like a caress. “Get Armando.”
***
Rescued. Not alone or lost. But still a girl with no home or family of her own.
Alessio De Luca isn’t just a Made Man of the Trio.
He’s the Las Vegas Capo’s son, and Don Cicero’s home in Palermo is modest compared to their palatial mansion.
Once I shared my abduction with him, I received medicine to counteract the drugs the traffickers had used.
I mostly slept for two days and couldn’t stop eating for the following three.
I still ask his sweet wife to stand guard whenever I bathe.
Caterina hugs me and promises I’m safe. My body demands I listen.
My mind refuses to let my guard down ever again.
Nearly a month has passed since that horrible day outside The Gentleman’s Post when I was betrayed and abducted.
My time living under this roof has been like an extended luxury holiday, lovely but something that was never meant for me.
Finding my sister and making a home with her, that is my dearest wish.
Alessio’s adorable little brother Valdo passes me more of his endless collection of comic books. “You can keep this copy of Absolute Wonder Woman, but you must read Immortal Thor after that.”
“Tore?” I ask, lifting my hand above my head.
“No, Thor,” he replies, shaking his blond head. “Not a tower.”
“Enough, little pest. Let Matilde decide what she wants to read,” his older sister Gia says from the doorway.
“It’s helping her learn English!”
Gia smirks, but I must admit being surrounded by people who can speak both English and Italian and reading more things written in English is helping my fluency tremendously. Looking back, I can’t believe how bold I was coming to America on my own, so unprepared for all the horrible potentials.
Their father wants to speak to me. Gia wraps an arm around my shoulders as we walk toward his office, offering sisterly comfort. I’ve barely interacted with Silvio De Luca, but even growing up around my father and men like him, the Capo of Las Vegas scares me.
“What happened to the men at the club?” I ask Gia.
“Alessio took them to the desert, I imagine. They won’t be coming back.” She shoots me a quizzical glance. “You probably don’t want to know more than that.”
Or maybe I do. I am my father’s daughter, but I’ll take enough satisfaction in them being dead.
“There were other girls in Chicago.”
Gia gives me a sad smile. “My father wouldn’t help them even if they were here in Vegas.”
We enter the Capo’s office where he sits behind his desk like a viper waiting to strike.
Gia holds her chin high while her father tells her he’s sending her back to her husband in Chicago, but I know she’s not happy.
He’s a horrible old man, she says. She’s been here since Alessio’s marriage to Caterina over a month ago.
His pale blue eyes shift toward me, and I suppress a tremble. “Leave us,” he tells his daughter.
He switches to Italian once she’s gone.
“I’ve been in touch with business associates of mine in Paloma. Cerniglia was a respected soldier under Don Cicero, but your father had his dirty little secrets, didn’t he?”
I nod, wishing Silvio De Luca’s tentacles didn’t stretch so far but unable to do much about it.
“I know why you came to this country, and Chicago is where you’ll find it. I suppose that’s why you were there to begin with. I knew Elena. Once.” His eyes slide down my body in a way that makes my skin crawl. “Her daughter, Maddalena, you’re not identical but the resemblance is very close.”
I can scarcely breathe. “Please, what can you tell me about my sister?”
“I’ll help you find her… and you already owe me a favor, don’t you?”
I owe Alessio, but I’m not dumb enough to argue the point. “What can I do?”
“Quite a bit of damage, I hope. I’ve decided on a use for you. Nico Morelli needs a nanny…”
***
“Oh, that’s cold!” Sofia De Luca squeals later that night. She’s Alessio and Gia’s younger sister and the prettiest girl I’ve ever met. She’s to marry the future Don of New York soon, though she says she doesn’t want to. After I learned why, I couldn’t blame her.
I rub the aloe balm over her sunburnt shoulders, trying to block out the memories of cold gel and the doctor’s gloved hands. We spent too many hours by the pool today, but it’s my last day in Las Vegas. I’m going to miss these girls and Valdo. I won’t miss their creepy father.
“Are you nervous about tomorrow?” Sofia asks.
“I am. Your father hates Caterina’s brother, yes?”
“Nico Morelli killed his heir, our older brother, Sil, Jr.” I can only imagine how terrified Caterina must have been when she was given to Alessio in an arranged marriage considering that.
“What can you tell me of Nico?” I ask in Italian.
“Caterina adores him, but he’s cold as ice from what I’ve seen. He never smiles. Some say he's like a human lie detector. The men all agree he’s the best with a blade in the Trio. Sil, Jr. found that out.”
“What was his wife like?” Margareta Morelli was shot and killed during a Bratva attack at Caterina and Alessio’s wedding reception. She was eight months pregnant, and her twins were delivered via c-section after the horrible battle.
“Beautiful and stylish, but I never knew her well. She was originally from New York. Their marriage was arranged for the peace pact two years ago.”
“Your mother says Nico should be the one called the Beast instead of his brother Dante.”
Sofia frowns, switching to English. “That wasn’t kind of her. She meant his scarred face. Nico’s scar is… memorable. But the nickname suits Dante better.”
“You know him well?”
“Better than I should,” she mutters. “As for Nico, you should be safe living under his protection as long as you’re loyal.”
As long as I’m loyal.
I shiver, knowing what her father expects of me. He’ll help me find my sister… if I’ll act as his spy in Nico’s household.