2. Nero
NERO
“You called, signore?”
Giovanni Mancini looks up from his drink and, with a passive wave of his hand, gestures for me to take the chair opposite him. Almost immediately, a server appears with a locally brewed beer before disappearing into the background, as all Giovanni’s staff are trained to do.
As one of five Cosa Nostra Capos, no one fucks with him. Nobody smart, anyway.
“Bene. You came quickly, Nero.”
“Sì. Making you wait would be disrespectful.”
Signore Mancini’s lips twitch with something close to a smirk as he drags his drink closer, but all I see in it is pleasure. Delight by my compliance, my respect for him as leader, and proof that I’ve done something right.
I respect my Capo immensely. Although new to the organization, there hasn’t been a time I’ve doubted his actions. He’s terrifying and a force to be reckoned with, but that adds to my admiration.
He tosses an arm over the back of the booth as his finger traces the edge of his glass.
“When my son proposed for you to join our ranks, I was skeptical. Given your background, I assumed you wouldn’t have the dedication and willingness it takes, so I’ve been paying close attention.
You’ve surprised me, Nero. Not only that, but you and Zeno make a great team.
You balance each other out. It reminds me of myself and Elio. ”
Elio being his second-in-command and closest confidant.
“He’s my best friend,” I reply.
“And will make a promising future Capo, don’t you think? His instincts about you were correct, so it gives me hope all his other instincts will be too.”
“Grazie, signore.” I bow my head slightly.
“Which is why I have a special mission for you.”
Excitement at the prospect thrums through me.
This is a true show of his trust. It’s a chance to prove myself without Zeno.
Most of the missions Giovanni sends down are ones we complete together, but he’s not including Zeno in this one.
Ready to take whatever the job is, I lean forward until the table connects with my stomach.
Giovanni grabs a folder from the bench beside him and tosses it towards me. The trajectory across the glossy table slides it right in front of me. “Open it,” he instructs, taking a sip from his glass.
Obeying without hesitation, I flip open the front cover, taking in the picture of a girl probably around my age. The photo was taken far away, and her gaze is locked on something in the distance.
Blonde hair curls halfway down her back and frames her face. A face that’s borderline angelic and almost seems fake. She’s walking beside another girl, a friend presumably, whose dark curtain hair conceals her identity.
“The blonde is Anastasia Petrov. Russian. She’s the daughter of a man within the Bratva who’s particularly close to their Pakhan.”
The same temperature that raised my blood at the sight of her is drenched in ice by her identity. She’s with the Bratva, thus Giovanni’s enemy, which makes her my enemy.
Zeno once said this life ages us from children to adults, skipping our teenage years. I didn’t fully understand then, but I do now. Whatever assignment his father’s about to delegate has to do with a woman whose only crime is who she shares DNA with. And that…isn’t fair.
“Review the second document.”
Resting the picture off to the side, I pick up the advert for an upcoming ballet performance in Poland that has Anastasia’s name splashed all over it.
A sore feeling churns my stomach as more pieces connect.
“Signorina Petrov and her father will soon be visiting Poland, which may be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to hit the Bratva. Not only is her father one of their Pakhan’s Elite, but she’s best friends with the Pakhan’s daughter.
” He leans forward, tapping the brunette in the photograph. “Such a loss will be a huge hit.”
“Why not go for the daughter then?” I ask, the words spilling out before I put any real consideration into questioning my Capo—something my rank doesn’t grant me—and the fact I’m putting a different girl in his line of sight.
“We’ve tried. Her father has her locked away in a private school that we’re unable to reach. Which is why Signorina Petrov will be an opportunity I’d be stupid to miss. She may not be the ideal target, but a point will be made.”
Which is? The question is forced down alongside the bitterness and discomfort this mission is bringing—all without having the full details yet. All I know is…this isn’t sitting right with me.
This is what you’ve trained for. She’s related to his enemy.
So far, most missions have involved drug and weapons deals, occasionally going after local gangs that might try to rise up or learning to torture captives. Since neither Zeno nor I are officially inducted yet, we often get left out of the more important jobs.
Whatever it is about Anastasia Petrov, I need to swallow that fear and do this. For him, for Zeno, and for myself.
“What do you need me to do, signore?”
His wide grin confirms my response was the right one.
“I’ve purchased you a ticket to the performance under a different name.
We can’t have anyone tracking your attendance and linking this to me.
After the show, you will kidnap her. The method is up to you, but my plane leaves Poland at midnight, and I expect you and Signorina Petrov to be on it. ”
My gaze shifts back to the picture. Kidnapping? How the hell am I supposed to capture the girl who’ll be the literal star of the show without causing attention?
“What’ll happen to her?” It’s something else I don’t have the right to know, but one I need to. If I’m going to do this, I need to know what she’ll endure. How bad it’ll be if I don’t, but how much worse it could be if I do.
Giovanni stands from the booth, downs the rest of his drink, and claps me on the shoulder as he strides by. “Make me proud, and your future within my ranks could be bright.”
In other words, fail and your time in the organization is over. And no one leaves the Cosa Nostra alive.
It’s Anastasia Petrov or my life.
He goes, my question remaining unanswered, as bitter as the crime of kidnapping an innocent.
The unknowns prickle my neck while driving home. Kidnapping Anastasia is one thing, if I was certain she’d be used to lure out the Russian Pakhan. Without that guarantee, I have to wonder if I’m bringing her to her death.
As a woman, she probably has little to do with the Bratva, other than an unfortunate connection through her father and a friendship.
Her probable innocence isn’t making the plan sit well.
I joined the Cosa Nostra for a connection, to feel content and do more, to provide for my parents while Padre’s bakery struggles for business.
I’ve accepted the criminal activity and illegal acts.
But harming a woman… That’s where I draw my line.
Padre is out when I arrive home, presumably at work. Which is good because he’d take one look at me, notice my dismay, and demand the truth, probably using it as an excuse to get me away from the Cosa Nostra since he doesn’t approve of my enrollment.
I flop onto my bed and pull out my cell, opening my messages with Zeno.
Me
Hey, ever think what it’ll mean one day to be fully inducted?
Z
All the time. Why, what’s up?
Me
Your dad gave me a job, but I don’t know how to feel about it.
Z
It’s a test. If you’re truly not up for it, you can bow out. The CN is my future, but it doesn’t have to be yours. I want you by my side, but I’ll understand if it’s not something you want anymore.
I want it. I just don’t want to kidnap an innocent girl while doing it.
Me
I know. I want to. It’s just this job…
Z
Welcome to our future.
Aweek passes before my flight to Poland. Once there, I pay the owner of the auditorium where her performance is being held to inspect the back rooms and hallways, make a plan, and source exit routes.
Too soon, the day of the show arrives.