Page 44 of Veil of Vengeance

“I’m not asking you to come along. I’m calling you to tell you that I’ll be in New York for the week and need you to make sure our little prisoner doesn’t do something she’ll regret.”

There’s a pause on the line before he gasps.

“Emiliano, Capo of the Camorra, runs from the daughter of the enemy because he can’t handle his sexual feelings,” he says in a dramatic voice. I grit my teeth and tell him to shut up and to call me if there is an emergency before ending the call.

I don’t run into anyone on the way down to my car, thankfully. Looking back at the house through the rear-view mirror, I wonder if I’m running away just because I’m in denial. I shake my head before turning my attention back on the road as I drive out of the open gates.

* * *

The jet landsin New York just before seven in the evening. I see that Ma has texted me back.

Eli

Hey, Ma, I’m staying in New York for the week. Call me if you need anything.

Ma

You couldn’t tell me before you left? I barely see you anymore. Stay safe.

Eli

Sorry, I was in a rush.

Slipping my phone back into my pocket, I slide into the car, thanking my driver for opening the door. We reach my apartment half an hour later, and I take the golden elevators to the top.

* * *

The lobbyof Folonari Enterprise is full of employees, guests, and reporters, all waiting to snap a photo or a small nugget of information on us. My shoes click against the black quartz lobby floor, walking past the reception desk. Silvio follows me, the sound of the papers he’s shuffling filling my ears.

“Mr. Folonari, would you like to make a comment on the disappearance of your family from the social gatherings at the Hoffmans this year?” I fight the urge to snap that stupid mic the reporter has in my face. Instead, I keep walking ahead, ignoring them.

“Security needs to get them the fuck out of my building, or else I’ll be fucking up each and every one of their lives,” I order Silvio. He pulls out his phone, typing on it before sliding it back into his suit jacket.

“Stefano is waiting upstairs in conference room 451B,” Silvio tells me as we make our way to the elevators reserved for the three top floors. The elevator doors distort our reflections as we stop in front of them. A twinge of satisfaction finds its way into my chest at the thought that Stefani Gambi is waiting for me to meet with him.

“How long?” My voice doesn’t betray my emotions as we step into the elevator.

“Around half an hour; he’s been quite antsy.”

I run my tongue across my top teeth as the elevator slides up.

“Have the lawyers gone through all the paperwork we need for this meeting?” Pulling on my tie to loosen it, I tab through my emails, and messages.

“Yeah, they have, and they’ve found a couple of things we could probably bargain more for.”

Interesting. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that Gambi is trying to fuck us over in every aspect of our business partnership. The elevator doors open with a hiss, which grates on my nerves.

“Get the mechanic to look at those elevator doors. They shouldn’t be making any kind of noise.”

Silvio nods before he slips away. The walls are gray, with accents of blood red. The black carpet mutes my steps as I make my way toward the conference room. I don’t knock, swinging the door open and walking in. I’m stopped dead in my tracks when I spot Stefano sitting in my seat, behind the glass meeting table. My lips twist into a disgusted snarl.

“Get the fuck out of my seat, Gambi.” Instead of doing what I told him to, he leans back into the seat, flashing me a grin.

“Good to see you too, Folonari.” Stefano taps his hands on the table before getting up and making his way to me. “You know, the Morettis have tried to uh…how do I say this? They’ve contacted us to ask an interesting favor.”

Clenching my teeth, I move around him and walk toward my seat.

Keeping my voice casual, I ask, “And pray tell what that fucking favor was?”

---