Page 140 of Righteous Enforcer
"What if that's not what he wants? What if he's fishing, probing for weaknesses?"
Alessandro considers this. "You think he's planning to move against us?"
I shrug. "I think nobody offers help without wanting something in return, and I’m sorry, that whole ‘I need help protecting construction projects’ is weak."
Alessandro moves to the window, staring out at the compound grounds. "We need allies," he says finally. "Ivan's recruiting families that have been neutral for generations. If the Vitales decide they’d rather throw in with the Bratva?—"
"We're fucked," I finish for him.
He nods. "So we play along."
"And if he betrays us?"
Alessandro turns, and for a moment, I see our father in his eyes. Cold, calculating, merciless. "Then we do what Dantes have always done to traitors."
I nod, but something still doesn't sit right. "I'll have Carlo shadow Vitale. See who else he might be meeting with."
"Good." Alessandro returns to his desk. "And have Nico check our security at the docks again. If the Bratva is planning something for Friday, I want to be ready."
I leave his office, the meeting still replaying in my mind. I don’t trust the Vitales as far as I could throw them, but if Alessandro is right and we need allies to continue to ward off the Bratva, it could restore what was lost after my father died.
When I pass Mirabella's room, I peek in to find her napping. For a moment, all the suspicion and violence of my world falls away, replaced by something purer. This is my purpose now. The business. The killing. It's all to keep this precious treasure I’ve been given safe.
I failed Eva. Had I realized what was happening four years ago, I might have been able to save her, protect her, build a life with her.
But that’s the thing about life.
Hindsight is twenty-twenty. I can’t go back. I can only go forward.
For me, that’s giving Mirabella a life where she’s safe and loved, protecting her from having to make the impossible choices Eva had to make.
36
EVA
I test the window in the guest bath downstairs again.
Still sealed tight.
Not a single budge even after three days of working at them when no one's watching.
I’ve tried with other windows and doors in obscure rooms of the house.
It’s almost as if Ivan knows what I’ll try and he’s thwarting me all the way.
But time is running out. Tomorrow is Friday.
Giving up, I retreat to my room where I’ve spent all my time trying to figure out how I can warn Adriano.
“Oh… you are here,” Daria, the maid assigned to care for me, or spy on me, says as she walks in with a tray. “I have your lunch.”
She’s young, maybe twenty.
I’m sure she’s here like an indentured servant, committing to give seven years of work in exchange for her moving to America.
I wonder if Ivan will ever let her go. She’s probably lucky he didn’t sell her.
"I need a phone call," I say, like I've said every day. "Just one call to check on my daughter."
