19. Enzo
ENZO
“So, when were you going to tell me that our sister was back?”
I’m in Gio’s office on a lower level of the same building that houses his penthouse apartment.
It’s late. The twins and Megan are sleeping, and he doesn’t want to disturb them.
He looks wearier than he did during my recent impromptu visit; his eyes are bloodshot, and it seems he didn’t get a chance to shave this morning before coming straight here.
“It was on a need-to-know basis, and I didn’t think you needed to know.”
I fill two cups with black coffee from the machine and bring them back to his desk where I sit down opposite him. I came straight from the airport when I landed back in New York, and it’s been a long twenty-four hours.
Gio swallows a mouthful of coffee and leans back in his seat. “You don’t think it’s strange that Bianca shows up as the Bratva decides it’s showtime.”
I sip the steaming black liquid. “It would be more difficult to find a time when trouble didn’t follow Bianca around.”
“This is quieter than usual though.” His eyes narrow as he watches me. “The Bratva bathes in trouble. They wield it like a lightsaber for all to see, and if that doesn’t work, they yell it from the fucking rooftops and dare anyone to try stopping them.”
He has a point. “What do you know?”
“Mateo Esposito was picked up at Palermo Airport. He cracked under pressure like hot glass dipped into icy water. Malevsky has the kind of dirt on him that doesn’t come out in the wash, so he jumped at the chance of corrupting an innocent fourteen-year-old girl in Rome to keep his own name squeaky clean. ”
A low growl erupts from somewhere deep within my core, and my fist closes around the glass in my hand. “Slimy little fucker. Where is he now?”
Gio’s lips tug into a small smile. “He won’t be bothering Sofia again.”
Strangely, this doesn’t quell the uneasiness currently at home in my gut. “She’ll be disappointed the drama school isn’t real.”
“There will be other drama schools, real opportunities for her if that’s what she wants to do when she graduates from college.”
“You’re sure about that?”
His smile vanishes. “Aren’t you?”
“I was… right up until you called me yesterday. Kids like Sofia and Leo don’t get to attend regular drama schools. They’ll always be looking over their shoulders wondering if the thug in black is following them or if he was born intimidating.”
“This is about Bianca, isn’t it?” Gio asks.
“She hasn’t mentioned them, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“But?”
“But there’ll come a time when you won’t be able to stop them from seeing her, and then what? You think they’ll forgive you for interfering in their lives when they needed their mom most?”
Gio inhales deeply and exhales on a sigh. “No, I don’t think that. But I hope one day they will understand that I did it for them.”
“Did you do it for them? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you did it to teach our sister a lesson.”
“She killed our parents.” The words land like gunfire. “It’s only a matter of time before she digs herself a hole so deep, she’ll never climb back out, and I spared her children being buried with her.”
He truly believes he did what was best for the twins, and I was on the same page until I spoke with them myself.
I don’t fully understand what has changed.
Maybe it’s this situation with Nyx and the Bratva that has me unnerved, or maybe this is all on me.
I was doing alright until I discovered that fucking business card.
Or maybe I wasn’t. Maybe I’ve been fooling myself for the last twelve months, which is a much harder pill to swallow.
“You mentioned showtime.” I need to get back on track, find Nyx, get this shit sorted and then figure out what to do with the rest of my life.
Gio drains his coffee and massages his temple. “Like I said, the Bratva has taken a vow of silence on this, but our friend Mr. Esposito handed me the connection between Malevsky and the Reznikov gang. A blood connection.”
The Reznikov family. It was their house that burned down when the fire I set spread out of control a year ago. Around the same time that Demi walked out of my life without so much as a ‘Seeya, lover boy’.
“So, this is payback,” I say, and Gio’s silence is enough. “What about the Police Commissioner? He was socializing with our Bratva friend last night.”
“I’ll see what I can find out, but if he has the commissioner in his pocket, we’ll need to find another way to reach him.”
I haven’t mentioned the recording to Gio. I’ve already dismissed it as a fake, another mind game to mess with my head, and one I don’t need right now. Malevsky knows who I am. He’s had a year to set the wheels in motion; one muffled video message isn’t going to tip the scales in his favor.
A phone rings, and it takes a long beat for me to realize that it’s the burner phone in my pocket, the one with the fake number that I gave the police officer when I reported Kate Glasgow missing.
I slide it from my pocket, and Gio’s brows form a question. “New cell phone?”
“Hello, Brian speaking.” I avoid eye contact with my brother.
“Hello, Mr. Sabatelli, this is DI Goss from the NYPD.”
DI Goss. The name rings a small bell in my head, but I can’t recall ever being introduced to him personally. Perhaps Demi mentioned him in passing, and that’s why the name has triggered something.
“It’s regarding the missing person report you filed yesterday.”
A DI getting involved in a missing person case so soon. He knows something. “Have you located her?” My pulse is racing.
“No, but I’d like to follow up with a few more questions if you’re available.”
“Now?” I’m already on my feet.
“Sure. I’ll meet you on the Bow Bridge in Central Park.” He ends the call.
Gio is on his feet too. “I’m coming with you.”
“I can handle this one.” I fill him in on my little adventure following the Police Commissioner’s community visits.
“The name of the person staying at the apartment brought up zero search results, so I did it the old-fashioned way: I filed a missing person report. And bingo. DI Goss wants to follow up with a meeting in Central Park.”
“You think she’s connected to the club.”
I had my suspicions to begin with, but now that her disappearance has been escalated through the ranks, I’m certain.
“I think Kate Glasgow is Nyx.”
I wait around for an hour, but the DI is a no-show. The number he called me from is one-way only, and when I call the NYPD, the switchboard operator tells me that DI Goss isn’t answering his phone.
I call Gio. “Time to pay the commissioner a visit. The DI bailed on me.”
“Let me deal with the commissioner, Enzo. Go home and get some rest. I’ll keep you updated.”
But I know I won’t sleep. Bianca isn’t answering her phone either and I wonder if she’s heard a whisper of her kids’ names. What would she do if she knew the Bratva goons she’s cozying up with to glean information for me are the same people targeting Leo and Sofia as a distraction.
Shit! That’s all Mateo Esposito was: a distraction. I’ve been so consumed by finding Nyx, that I didn’t see it for what it was.
Leo and Sofia are safe. For now.
But what was the Bratva up to while I was wandering around Rome searching for a fake drama school?
I pull out the JADED card given to Sofia by Mr. Esposito. The same name, same font, but on a black background with no address. Only now I notice in tiny green writing at the bottom of the card, some sort of code.
MID-PEA-YEN
I type it into a search engine on my tablet and get no perfect matches.
I split it up and try again with the same result.
Then I try feeding various parts of it into a zip code database and get more results than I have the patience to process, so I forward it onto our IT guys and ask them to treat it as a priority.
Gio is deluded if he thinks I’m going to rest while he tracks down the police commissioner and uses the softly-softly approach. I won’t find Nyx / Kate Glasgow from the comfort of my own bed, and I’m fucked if I’m letting Malevsky think I’m running scared.
I wait for Luis to pick me up and head back to the casino where I saw the pakhan swapping anecdotes with the commissioner and his wife.
The place is practically empty; my body clock is fucked from the round trip to Rome, so I get comfortable in a booth in the restaurant and watch the comings and goings of wealthy New Yorkers, the kind of people who don’t have to worry about clocking in for a shift at the factory or making sure there’s enough food in the cupboards to feed the kids.
People like me.
Sure, I’ve led a privileged life. I don’t check the price next to the meal I want to order from the menu. I want something, I can get it.
But Megan didn’t grow up with the same privileges.
She was out on the streets as a teenager with a baby sister to take care of, and I’ve seen the way she grounds Gio, the way she treats money as something to be used wisely rather than flaunted, the way she works hard for what she wants and takes nothing for granted.
It isn’t something I was looking for in a relationship, having my feet planted firmly in the real world, but looking back now, I’m starting to wonder if losing Demi was written in the cards from the beginning.
I didn’t allow her to ground me. I tried to elevate her to my position in the gold-lined clouds, and it was never going to work.
I eat my meal without tasting it and wash it down with a bottle of red.
Then I leave the building, dismiss Luis, and walk.
I want to find Kate Glasgow because I believe that if she isn’t Nyx, she knows who is. But I can’t give it my full attention while I’m back in the mired remains of my relationship with the only woman I could see myself growing old with.