Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

Anya

“ D oes Sav know you’re here?” Rachele asks, scanning the street through the window of the upmarket boutique in Manhattan.

“If he did, I wouldn’t be here,” I say in a dry tone.

She nods, acknowledging the fact. My husband would never allow me to deliver a fake passport to Raphael Morelli’s wife. Not even Dante knows where I am or what my plan is. He’s at After Dark, watching Claire. I told him that Livy and I were going dress shopping. Only Livy, who’s decked out in a pin-striped suit with a silver tie and a Fedora hat, is in on the deal. She’s my backup in case things go south. The handgun I bought for her is strapped to her ankle under the wide legs of her pants. She’s loving every minute of playing the mobster—to my detriment. I never realized she’d enjoy the danger so much, and it’s scary. I recall our conversation in the car on our way here when I told her I didn’t want to put her life at risk.

“I’m a sweet, old lady,” she said. “Who’s going to suspect me of anything? The way I look at it, the element of surprise is a major advantage, and that advantage is on my side.”

I nod at Livy, wordlessly asking if she’s ready. She reciprocates with a salute.

“Come,” Rachele says, tilting her head toward the change area.

“No.” I look around the empty store. “Wait here.”

Rachele follows me with her gaze as I walk around the counter where a sales lady stands. Her name tag reads Debra. I go around to the back, keeping my hand on the gun in my bag as I check behind the rails of dresses. At the far end, I sweep the curtain aside. Elena sits on a cream-colored sofa in the private lounge. She lifts her eyes to meet my gaze, not saying a word as I walk down the short aisle and open the curtain of every cubicle.

They’re all empty.

A sign on the door at the end says storeroom. I test the handle. Locked.

“Debra,” I call to the front.

The lady appears a moment later.

I motion at the door. “Open it.”

She takes a key from her pocket and unlocks the door before opening it wide. I stick my head around the jamb. Shoe boxes and clothes wrapped in plastic bags are stacked on metal shelves. A vacuum cleaner and mop take up one corner. A bucket filled with cleaning products stands next to a door with a WC sign.

My order is clipped. “Ladies’ room.”

Debra walks inside and opens the door, revealing a small bathroom with a toilet and a basin.

“Thanks,” I say. “You can go back to the front.”

When she leaves, I go over to Elena and hold out my hand. “Bag.”

Elena hands over her handbag with pursed lips.

I unzip it and go through the contents, feeling for microphones under the lining. Satisfied that there are no weapons or hidden cameras, I put the bag next to her on the sofa.

She gives me a cutting look.

I peer around the curtain, addressing Rachele. “We’re good.”

Debra turns the open sign to closed and locks the door.

Livy tips her hat, letting me know she’ll watch the front.

Rachele steps into the private area. “You okay, Lena?”

Elena nods, swallowing audibly. “Let’s do this.”

I sit down opposite her and take out my phone. We agreed I’d film her message. She faces the camera squarely, delivering a short speech in a strong, confident voice. The message is to anyone willing to listen, telling them she came to Saverio for refuge to escape an abusive husband. And then she shocks me by going one step further and confessing that Raphael is behind the attack that killed so many men on my wedding day.

When she’s done, I save the recording and encrypt it like Dante taught me to do when I’m dealing with incriminating financial data before uploading it to an account in the Cloud that Livy has access to—in case something happens to me.

The exchange is done quickly and unremarkably. Elena hands me the inventory, and I give her the passport.

“When are you leaving?” I ask.

Her reply is snide. “What’s it to you?”

“I want to make sure you’re safely gone before Saverio targets Raphael.”

“As soon as I can.” She stands, glancing at Rachele over my shoulder. “My cousin can get me onto a flight as early as next week.”

I follow suit, getting to my feet. “I’ll wait until then.”

Pulling herself to her full height, Rachele says, “Make sure Raphael gets what he deserves. I want him to pay for what he did to Papa and Giorgio.”

Livy bustles inside, getting tangled in the curtain. She swats the velvet away to free herself. “What about Debra?”

“She’s the mother I never had,” Rachele says. “You don’t have to worry about her.”

Livy and I leave first. On the sidewalk, I almost bump into Tersia.

“Oh, hi,” she says, brushing her short curls from her face. “What are you doing here?”

Livy narrows her eyes. “Shopping.”

Tersia looks Livy over. “You look, um, nice.”

Livy only glares.

I take in Tersia’s flat stomach under her cashmere coat. “You’ve had the baby.”

“Two weeks ago.” She blooms. “We named her Amanda, but we call her Mandy.”

“That’s pretty,” I say. “I hope everything went okay?”

“Exactly as we hoped. We were lucky enough to have been able to follow our birth plan.”

“That’s good,” I say, my chest tightening when I think about the friend I lost and that I’ll never meet her baby.

“Listen.” Tersia hooks her hair behind her ears. “My meeting with my agent finished early, and I have a few minutes to spare.” She waves a hand toward the hotel next door. “Why don’t we have a cup of tea?”

I look at Livy.

“You go,” Livy says. “I better get back to the office to check if Dante managed diaper duty. For all we know, he put it on the wrong way around.”

My smile is grateful. “I’ll call you an Uber.”

“Oh, look.” Livy raises an arm. “Here’s a cab.”

I make sure she gets in safely before I turn my attention back to Tersia.

“Here,” Tersia says, indicating the red carpet that runs up to a swivel door.

The doorman stands aside for us to enter. We walk through a marble lobby and go up the escalator to a bar on the second floor where Tersia asks for a table.

Once we’re seated, an awkward silence follows.

I clear my throat. “How’s Richard?”

She smiles before rolling her eyes. “Still playing golf. But I still love him. How about Sav?”

“He’s good,” I lie.

“Has he recovered fully?”

“Almost.” I force brightness into my tone. “He’s working hard on it. You know how determined he is.”

“I have an exhibition coming up in a couple of months.”

“I’m glad you have time for your art again.”

“You’re welcome to swing by.” She shrugs. “If you want to.”

“I’d love to. Where are you having it?”

“Oh. I have an invite. I just got a couple from my agent.”

She reaches for her clutch bag next to her, knocking it over in her haste. The contents spill out over the table, coins and lipstick running over the top.

“Darn it.” She catches the lipstick before it rolls off the edge and slams her palm on coins that threaten to follow the same path. “I left it open again.”

I help her to gather the items, handing them to her while she stuffs them back into her bag.

“I’m so clumsy,” she mutters.

My gaze falls on a strange key with a red plastic handle between the knick-knacks strewn over the table—a tubular, three-cylinder key.

I go still. My heart trips over a beat. It looks exactly like the weird key I found in the vault at the firm. With everything that’s happened, I almost forgot about it. I’ve been looking for a key like that and what it could open for months.

“I’m sorry,” she says, bundling tissues and hand sanitizer in her bag. “I do this all the time. It’s very annoying.”

Trying my best to keep my voice normal, I pick up the key. “This is a strange-looking key.”

She lifts her head, pausing in collecting loose change. “That’s Richard’s. It’s for the locker at his golf club. He forgot his sports bag there, and he asked me to pick it up and wash his shirt and towel.” She wrinkles her nose. “Imagine the smell of sweaty golf undies and wet towel if they’ve been in his locker for a week.”

I hand her the key, my pulse beating so loudly I’m worried she can hear it. “That’s definitely something you want to avoid.”

“I was planning on going this morning, but then my agent called.” She sighs. “I’ll have to make a trip out there this afternoon, and I was hoping to spend time with Mandy. I left her with the nanny, and I already miss her too much.”

“Is it far?” I ask, hoping to sound interested but not overly so.

“Southampton.” Finally having fitted everything back into her bag, she zips it up. “It’s not that far, but it’s definitely out of my way.”

“Shinnecock Hills?”

“Yep,” she says with another eye roll. “It’s exclusive and expensive, which basically ticks the only two boxes when it comes to Richard’s requirements.”

Of course. Mr. Lewis, my late employer, was a member there. He asked me to handle the bank transfer when his renewal came up. I paid his annual fee myself.

Dear God .

I go hot and cold. This could be the answer to the riddle, and I’m scared to death of what I may find.

The waiter stops next to our table. Tersia orders for us, but I barely pay attention. I’m too busy figuring out how I’m going to get into the locker room of a private golf course.

“How are you doing?” she asks when the waiter leaves to place our order at the bar. “And I mean really doing?”

“Great.” My smile feels fake. “Claire is growing fast.”

“Yes.” She makes an apologetic face. “Sorry. I was going to ask.”

“We can’t complain.”

“Are you, um, still working at the club?”

“Same old.”

She bobs her head. “In that case, you must be enjoying it.”

I remain quiet as a realization hits me. We’re just wasting our breaths with small talk. It’s not like before when no hurdles stood between us. Now, we’re like strangers—polite and careful. And all of it is my fault.

Seemingly at a loss for words, she looks around the room as if every aspect of it interests her, but it’s just a way of pretending the silence isn’t awkward.

We drink our tea while she poses superficial questions and I offer vague answers. To be honest, it’s exhausting, and when we say goodbye, I’m relieved as well as sad.

A ping announces a text message on my phone. Expecting it to be from Saverio, I fumble with a racing heart for my phone.

It’s from Dante.

My hope plummets.

Are you okay?

Where are you?

When are you coming back?

I type a quick reply. Is everything okay with Claire?

His answer comes immediately. Sure. Sorry. Didn’t mean to worry you. Livy is with her. You haven’t answered my questions.

Sighing, I type, I’ll be there in fifteen .

Dante paces in the underground parking lot of the club when I park my new Volvo. He’s opening my door open before I’ve cut the engine.

“I’ve been worried sick since Livy came back without you,” he says. “I didn’t know if I should call Sav.”

I get out. “I ran into Tersia, and we had tea. Didn’t Livy tell you?”

He eyes the empty backseat. “Where’s your shopping?”

Taking the piece of paper with the inventory from my bag, I hand it to him. “Here.”

He holds my gaze while unfolding the sheet, questions flashing in his eyes.

After scanning over the contents, he utters a curse. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I already sent you the encrypted video. Elena will be gone by next week.” Eager to see Claire, I walk with long strides to the elevator. “We’re not risking any attacks until she’s gone.”

“Yes, boss,” he says with a note of respect and admiration in his tone.

I’m barely back in the office, feeding Claire, when disgruntled male voices reach me. It sounds like an argument.

When Claire falls asleep on my breast, I gently ease her down in her stroller and adjust my clothes before following the noise to the gallery.

Saverio’s men are gathered around Dante, their faces drawn and their expressions dark.

“Sorry, Dante,” one of them says. “But that just ain’t gonna cut it. You’ve been slinging reassurances around for weeks, but none of us has seen Mr. De Luca since the day they loaded him into an ambulance on a stretcher. We’re done taking your word for it. We need proof. We want to see him for ourselves. If he’s got promises to make, he can come here and make them to our faces.”

His passive-aggressive attitude makes my hackles rise.

I walk up to the group, my voice hard when I ask, “What’s going on here?”

Dante looks at me and blows air through his nose.

The men go still. All eyes lock on me.

I stand taller. “I asked what was going on here.”

“We’re sick of taking orders from Dante,” someone says. “We want Mr. De Luca to tell us what his plans are. We want him to look us in the eye and tell us the business isn’t in trouble.”

I fix the man with a look. Carlo Cassidy. His nickname is Big Ted. I know them all. I know everything about each of them down to what they drink when they hang out at the bar. “Saverio is busy planning our revenge. Are you really so scared that you want him to leave everything he’s doing and run over here to put you at ease?”

Big Ted refuses to back down, holding my gaze with a challenge in his. “We want to see him, that’s all.”

“Why?” I walk into the midst of their circle. “Because you don’t trust Dante? Who’s going to tell Saverio that?”

Another man steps forward. Ashes Amato. “Look, it’s not that we don’t trust Dante, but people are saying shit.”

My stare is frosty. “Like what?”

He has the decency to appear guilty. “That we’re going under. That you won’t be able to pay us next month.”

I look at Dante. “Who said that?”

Dante’s jaw bunches.

“No offense, Mrs. De Luca,” Big Ted says. “But if you work here and you see how slow the business is, it ain’t hard to figure it out.”

“Everyone is getting paid. You can take my word for it. Yes, the business is slow right now, but in a couple of weeks, we’re bringing in big money. That message comes directly from Saverio. I’m his wife, and that’s what I’m telling you. If anyone wants to question that, say so now.”

“Big money from where?” Ashes asks.

I face him. “That information doesn’t concern you. Saverio is working on it. He told me to convey the message. If any man here doesn’t believe me, come take it up with me in the office.” I look around the gathering. “Anyone?”

Dante glares at me, a muscle ticking under his eye. The men are quiet as I knew they’d be. None of them will dare to call me a liar to my face. No one is going to test my theory. Telling me I’m bullshitting them isn’t an insult Saverio will let slide. They may not have seen him since the attack, but they’re not going to risk the wrath of a man they both respect and fear, not unless they’re certain he’s lost his power.

“Good,” I say when the silence stretches. “Now, get back to work.” As they start to scatter, I add, “If anyone has doubts in the future, bring it to me instead of moping like children.”

They walk to the stairs, mumbling among themselves with their heads low. Only Dante remains in place, his expression deadlier than I’ve seen. He follows my progress with dark, brooding eyes while his chest heaves with the breaths he takes.

Before I can make it to the office, he catches up with me. Grabbing my wrist, he yanks me into the lounge and slams the door shut.

My voice is icy. Measured. “Get your hands off of me.”

He lets me go at once, taking a step back, but the anger shifting in his gaze doesn’t evaporate.

Instead, it intensifies when he says, “Saverio did not tell you to say that to the men.”

“Someone had to.”

“Why?”

I don’t have time for this. Making a frustrated sound, I say, “To pacify them.”

“What do you think is going to happen when they find out you lied?”

“Who said I did?”

“I told you to speak to Sav. He’s got to know how deep in the shit we are.”

“What do you think will happen if he knows that? Do you think it’s going to change anything? Do you think it will help him? No, Dante. It will make everything worse. What Saverio needs to focus on is healing.”

“How long can you do this on your own?” he bites out. “How long are you going to try to save Sav and the club and everyone else all by yourself?”

“I’m not doing this by myself,” I say, my agitation rising.

“Yeah?” He looks around. “Then show me who’s helping you.”

“You and Livy.” I lift my chin. “The men.”

He looks at me for a long, hard second. “What about Saverio? The men are right. Shit happens. He’s scarred. So what? He’s the one who should be here, not you. For God’s sake, woman, you’re coming to work with a newborn baby.”

I’m in his face, pointing a finger at him. “Don’t you dare say that. What do you think will happen if the men hear you talk like this? They’ll lose faith, and if they lose faith, Saverio is as good as dead. You and I are all he’s got, Dante. Where the fuck is your loyalty?”

The volume of his voice rises steadily. “There’s nothing wrong with my loyalty. But I have eyes in my head.”

I back up again, reeling at his animosity. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Sav lost interest in everything but revenge. He’s lost interest in this club, in his men, in the business, and in you.”

The cruel words make me stagger.

“Nothing matters to him anymore, Anya. He’s fucking lost interest in living.”

Fury surges inside me, eradicating any logical thoughts. My words are cold, shaky. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

“That’s why he’s on a path of self-destruction,” Dante continues, set on tormenting me. “That’s why he’s determined to see this suicide mission through.”

Losing it completely, I yell at him. “Don’t talk like that.”

“Why are you doing this? You don’t have to put yourself on the line.” He adds in a softer tone, “You don’t have to go down with Sav.”

“And you?” I ask, gritting my teeth. “Are you planning on going down? Is that why you’ve given up already?”

“I’m not giving up, but I’m not the one going around telling the men Saverio is fine when nothing can be further from the truth. I’m not the one taking huge fucking loans we can never pay back, and all you’re going to get for your trouble is a few broken bones and a bullet in your head. So tell me again why the fuck you’re doing this.”

“Because I love him.” The admission tumbles from my lips with a powerful surge of air that deflates my chest. “Because I love him more than life, and I can’t bear the thought of living without him.”

The outburst having taken everything from me, I crumble.

Dante reaches for me, pity and concern churning in his brown eyes, but I hold up a hand, needing space. Needing distance. Needing to breathe.

“Anya,” he says in protest.

I hyperventilate like a person having a panic attack. “I can’t watch him waste away to nothing. Don’t you understand that? Saverio is too big for that.” I lean a hand on the wall for support, saying more to myself than to Dante, “He’s bigger than life.”

“Anya,” he says again.

I hear everything he doesn’t say in my name—the sadness, the sympathy, and the uselessness. The irony. Because Saverio De Luca doesn’t love me. And everyone knows.

I’m a fuck buddy, not a wife. People aren’t scared to touch me because they fear Saverio’s retaliation based on how much he loves me. No, they fear his revenge because I’m his possession, and Saverio cares more about his possessions than anything else.

I straighten with difficulty, feeling so much older than my age. So tired suddenly. “You have the inventory and the video. All I ask is that you do your part. I’ll get the money.”

“How?” he asks with that sad compassion in his expression and fear bleeding into his eyes.

“I have a plan.” I smile, not feeling it in my heart. “Don’t worry. I won’t let the men down.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

My choice of defense, of protecting what’s left of my shattered pride, is lashing out. “You were supposed to convince him of the new plan. By now, you should’ve worked out a strategy, damn you. If you weren’t up for it, you should’ve said so. I would’ve done it myself.”

Frustration laces his tone. “I tried, all right? Sav is biting but he’s not convinced.” Hurt flashes over his features. “But don’t worry. I did work out that strategy to the T. All we need is Sav’s go-ahead.”

Regretting my outburst, I sigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just…”

“I know.” He shoves his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “I better get the list and the video to Sav. Hopefully, this will sway him.”

“I’m going ahead with the plan, Dante, whether Saverio buys into it or not.”

The set of his shoulders turns rigid. “I won’t betray Sav.”

“I’m doing this,” I say, my voice firm. “With or without you.”

“Goddamn, Anya,” he groans.

“We have a good shot at winning. That video makes all the difference. When Elena is gone next week, I’m going in. If I have to give the order myself, I’ll do it.” I add with an unmistakable warning, “And I won’t let you or Saverio stand in my way.”

He looks away, rubbing a hand over his nape.

“Try to convince Saverio because he’s not going to listen to me. It’s in everyone’s interest that he’s on board. Whatever the case, I’m not allowing you or Saverio to behave like stupid, honorable men who think all our problems will go away if you die.”

With that, I open the door and leave, not giving him a chance to reply.

In the office, I let out a shaky breath. The men are right. Without money, we can’t keep the creditors or our enemies at bay. Knowing that Saverio sold his beloved Corvette is like a splinter under my skin. The million he got for it bought a few weapons, but it’s not nearly enough to pay back our debt.

I gave the cashflow problem a lot of thought. I know what will happen to me when that loan shark comes after me. Benson Bennett is known for his cruelty and sadistic streak. He’s not a man who plays games. However, the rumor is that Mr. Bennett can’t resist a good bet.

Taking a burner phone from the drawer, I dial his number. Making sure the call can’t be traced is not so much for keeping my contact with Mr. Bennett a secret from the police than from my husband.

“Mrs. De Luca,” he says in a deep, velvety voice. “It’s always a pleasure.” A smile that comes across as threatening rather than smug carries on his words. “I assume you’re calling about a repayment arrangement.”

Infusing my tone with confidence I don’t feel, I say, “I have a proposal for you.”

He sounds amused. “I’m listening.”

“How do you feel about a bet?”

His excitement is evident. “What kind of bet?”

“Blackjack. You and me.”

“What are the stakes?” he asks, not bothering to hide his eagerness.

“If I win, you write off my debt and pay me an amount equal to my loan in cash.”

He laughs. “That’s a hefty prize.” He asks with obvious curiosity, “And if I win, what do I get?”

I swallow, trying to sound self-assured and not scared out of my wits. “After Dark.”

A moment of silence follows. When he speaks again, all traces of humor are gone from his tone. “After Dark belongs to your husband.”

“It belongs to us . We’re married in community of property, and I’m running the club now, not Saverio.”

He’s quiet for another second.

“As you must be aware,” I say, “all the shares transferred to us after Luigi Bianchi’s death.”

“Yes,” he drawls. “I’m aware.”

“The club has good potential. If you’d like to see the last five years’ profit?—”

“I know what After Dark is worth.”

Holding my breath, I ask, “Do we have a deal then?”

“Do you play regularly, Mrs. De Luca?”

“No,” I say honestly. “This will be my first game.”

He chuckles. “You’re a brave woman. I admire that.” He exhales slowly. “You make a very attractive proposition. Just know this, I’m not a man who lets people go back on their word. Once I accept, you don’t get to change your mind.”

“I won’t,” I say, smiling in the hope that he can hear it.

“You’ve got yourself a bet, Mrs. De Luca.” Smooth like an eel and seductive like a seasoned Casanova, he says, “I’ll send you the date and time.”