Page 34 of Mafia Heiress
We slink around to a boarded up looking door. There’s a gap in the wood where someone has scraped a handle. Ciro and I take our places on either side of the door, guns drawn, waiting to listen for the slightest hint of noise.
“Ready?” he mouths.
I nod, watching him slipping his fingers into the makeshift handle and pulling the creaky door slowly. It makes too much noise in the night and I wince, glancing around to see if we’ll be found out.
After ten seconds there’s no stir from the inside and Ciro slips in ahead of me. The darkness overtakes me for a moment. My eyes are slow to adjust, but when I do, we’re in a huge room with debris all over. There are chains hanging from the ceiling, and stockpiles of old wood in two of the corners. A rickety looking staircase lines the back wall, and murmurs sound from above.
We slink along the walls until we reach the steps. Ciro tests its weight, tapping it with his booted foot. He goes first, but stops on the fourth step. His watch glows in the darkness and he presses me further back into the shadows.
“We have thirty seconds before they storm the front. Stay with me and shoot anything that comes into our path. This is about getting your father first, worrying about the others comes later.”
I growl at the mention of letting the Vitucci’s get off easy, but I understand. Daddy is more important than getting revenge, for now.
He gives me a quick kiss, the cold steel of his gun’s handle brushing along my face while he cups my cheeks. His tongue slips out and in the dimness I see his excitement.
Smirking, I bite down on his bottom lip. Yeah we’re both fucked up in the head, but maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be.
A huge bang interrupts our moment and shots sound from above. There’s only a few seconds of chaos before footsteps come storming down without care. Too many footsteps.
Ciro lets off the first three shots, taking down the first guy that appears at the top of the steps. He crumples down and I get his partner before he can draw his weapon.
We fly up the landing and kick the bodies out of the way, before hesitating by the entrance to the upper floor. Shouts and gunfire can be heard, but they’re not close.
“Let’s go. Remember, Arturo first, then the Vituccis.”
I roll my eyes, but don’t open my mouth to argue. I want this to be over as soon as possible. This isn’t my turf, and I’m starting to feel too exposed and not in control. A dangerous combination for a Gambino.
The second floor landing is lit up by gun shots and lanterns. There are no overhead lights, but there’s enough to see by. I lean on the wall and make my way to the first doorway. Ciro rushes to the other side and we clear the room in moments.
This goes on for the next three rooms until we get to one that’s locked. Ciro pulls out his lock picks from his back pocket and hands me his gun. I spread my arms out wide and hold both guns out on either side of me.
“We’re in,” he whispers, reaching up for his gun. I close the door behind us and click on the flashlight above my gun.
It’s an old office room with nothing more than a desk and chair. There’s another doorway to one side and a scuffling sound behind it. Ciro throws the door open and I train my gun on the dark interior.
My light flashes over my father’s face, angry and relieved at the same time. I holster my weapon and struggle to get the ropes undone. Ciro is faster than me, removing the gag from his mouth.
“What the fuck is she doing here, Ciro?” My father’s hoarse voice comes out.
“She insisted,” he growls, undoing the right arm bindings.
Freeing my father’s feet before standing, I remove my gun once more. “You’re welcome,” I say, not bothering to see if they’ll reply. I don’t need to get into the macho ‘vaginas are useless’ conversation. Some things you can’t train out of people.
“You shouldn’t be here,” my father says, taking my arm.
“Dad, I love you, but stop with the drama queen bullshit. We need to get you out of here, and you’re not in a position to do it yourself. You’ve got Ciro and I. Understand?”
I’m pretty sure Ciro peed a little. My father’s face goes scary in a heartbeat, but I don’t back down. I can’t.
“What did you just say to me?”
It’s like everyone knew when Arturo Gambino was going to explode. The floor goes quiet and there isn’t a movement to be felt. He squares his shoulders and looks down his nose at me.
“Dad. Listen.”
He grabs my gun arm and grips me until it’s so painful I wince. He takes my gun from me and pushes me behind him. “I don’t know what thesescemoshave been putting in your head, but you’re still my daughter. Get behind me and don’t get shot.”
The sting of his words is worse than the pain in my arm. In the world of organized crime, it’s not a woman’s place to take charge, but the world doesn’t know my plans yet.
