Making the Right Call

1851 Words
Static.  “We are here---.” Click. Static.  “Where we have---.” Click.  Linda Mercel---. Click. Is this where love gets me or is this the taint of jealousy? I bit my lip softly as an unpleasant taste of lipstick was on my tongue. My head rose towards the ceiling, watching the fan spin. You know Linda, I still remember when you said you love me. Was that real? Or was that just a flair, a spur of the moment as you tasted something you had deemed your entire life was forbidden. Tell me with this move is this the answer you gave? I gripped the book in my hand tightly until it was shut. This was a blatant display of foolish actions to jab at what you left of my heart. You left me to chase another. So then why do this? Show me then and tell me why? There was no answer except a single cough and the continued ticking of the clock. It was the only thing that broke the quiet in the room. Still the thickness of the unceremonious atmosphere was still chocking. The red carpet and darkened purple colours on the walls seemed only to add to this. What was this feeling, a bitter taste in my mouth like a concoction of despair and betrayal? I didn’t have the number for which was getting the better of me but I truly hated surprises. One phone call and I could end this mess. Just one and it would be over like waking up from a bad dream but I knew deep down that was the wrong call. I had to suppress these feelings. My emotions would only be causation for mistakes. This book as I looked at it was my only answer to the problems I faced right now. Logic, I reminded myself, will win this day nothing more or nothing less.  How long had we had been in here for? My eyes shifted to the clock. It was hours and few words had been even said. This day should be a moment of celebration. I had made one of the biggest deals in my career. Instead, I sat here weighing my words and thoughts as I came to grips with what I had heard today. How did she know my connection to the Abbandando Family? Was it true, was it really her or was something else at play? It had been over ten years since she last saw me at the Clock Seventy- Eight Pier.  Something had to be up and my gaze fell around the oval table. Seated was every major capo in Mantrao city, every man vying to making himself someone in the absence I might create.  It was the same case for my father. When last had I seen the man was when I was eight or nine after that, the only thing we had in common was the many strange correspondence he would send my mother in round-about ways. My father never once called me by my actual name. Carl was the name he would write me. I always wondered if it was him being smart or he just genuinely didn’t know. I wonder, was he even still writing me now?  It doesn’t matter now that was a long time ago with a far disorganized Mafia than the one before me now. To the police we didn’t exist almost bogey man who came knocking on the door when rent was due. A relic of the past that made good movies and notoriety on secrecy had long been destroyed at least that’s what it probably looked like on a paper in the office. The reality was we had evolved under my shadow leadership it was now far more than it ever was before. As long as coin is king, the mafia will remain. Still was there a traitor in the mist or was it all my own slip up to begin with, but how?  I rubbed my hand on my forehead as the TV flickered, which blared the news foretelling my soon to be demise.   “Coming up in one hour we have an interview by former lover Linda Mercel of CEO billionaire Valentina Russo about what she claims to be a double life.” “Is it really true? Is the Mantrao city really as corrupted as she claims it to be? Linda Mercel looks to speak about this now.”  I took a deep breath out as I hid my hands, sliding the book under the table with it. Composure, a lady has to keep her composure at all times.  I adjusted myself in the seat and flickered at the strands of my blond hair that fell in my face. I lipped my lips. Dry, I looked at the water that had been seated on the table for over three hours. The water reflected at me revealing a pimple or two on my face, my freckles, and of course my blue and brown eyes which remained bright. Heterochromia was what the doctor told me but I was never a fan of it and the name that came with it the Crow only made it worse. I shifted my hair to cover over my brown eye. I didn’t deserve to drink this water yet. Not yet, not now. I can only reward myself when it’s done. It was my punishment. My father had written me many times before that you must always be prepared for betrayal. It’s not the threats that you could see that’s the most dangerous but the ones you cannot see. The one you ignore and looking at me now was that same lesson. Where was the hidden blade going to come from? A hand slammed on the table, causing it to shake. “We should have had her taken out two hours ago!” The noise seemed to reanimate everyone else in the room as discussion began.  “Relax, Angelo, everything is under control,” I said. Angelo rubbed his snubbed nose as his double chin showed with the frown now present on his face. His brown eyes still holding sharp to mine almost like a challenge. He bit his lip and sat back silently in the chair. They met the response with mix emotions on the five other men’s faces. Antony Butter Finger Galante was the only one that still kept a smile. A man that dressed like he owned the world, a handsome man, I gave him that. I wonder how many broken hearts followed behind that charm he carried. Beneath that facade was a man that traded lives like it was a daily stock exchange. Peter the Wizard of Oz Lombardo on the other hand stared at the ceiling as he scratched his face. He was the most silent of the bunch, even though hardly much had been said. The Casino King by many, but that was nothing more than a fancy lie. How many times had I bailed him out of his failed ventures without the mafia? He would be broke and on the street with nothing. Sammy Daddano and Carl Polizzi the latter caught my brow their eyes were only on the TV. They were right to doubt me. For them it only looked like a symphony of my end, it’s just they didn’t want to outright say it. It might have been how many of them would I take along for this s**t show of a ride. I wonder what would be the title on the paper be? The Youngest Female Billionaire Shadow boss of the mafia or Ex-lover girlfriend reveals devastating secret double life. The possibility of the media and words for headlines were endless. Linda Mercel, was she capable of this? No, I refused to believe it was just her involved, it would be impossible. I had her entire life reviewed when I first met her. I knew everything before she even spoke it from her mouth. Where she lived who her parents were, her bank account info and everything of note in her life, there was no mystery to her in my mind. That’s what made this predicament so surprising; I thought I had her personality down to the letter. Had I made a mistake? No, I don’t make mistakes, I never did before and I wouldn’t be making any now even this meeting was one that was done to various degrees of meticulous. Each member had to ride around in cars over and over change flights shift, body doubles and with a hand deeper in the police than the government. The idea that something would get pass me was impossible. No, it was a death sentence to the person foolish enough to try. Angelo scratched his neck. “Valentina, we need to make a move now.” There were many ways to tackle this problem; I had all the right connections for it. I could shut down this station with the flip of my hand. She could be in a body bag before even setting foot in the studio. I could force it off the air. A politician could call in. The narrative also might be changed to put her as the aggressor. None of them I liked in the slightest. My heart ached from how things had ended, but this was a problem that wouldn’t be made with a heart in the matter. Much was at stake here besides my own head, of course. I placed the book that I held in my hand down and drew a Tomaso cigarette from my purse. Placing it to my lips, Angelo put forward his lighter and lit my cigarette. I took a deep puff and watched the smoke take the room. Through the mist I watched every man, looking at the nervousness in their eyes. How many others like her would throw me over the bus just for thirty minutes of fame? My gaze fell on the book I rested down, The Prince. Of mankind we may say in general they are fickle, hypocritical, and greedy of gain. A smirk came to my face. I always pictured myself as an eagle, and now it was time to catch a snake. Looking at the time on the clock, there were only ten minutes left. “I am going Angelo.” “Going where?” he asked as the others in the room mumbled to themselves. I smiled, got up and placed my hat on my head walking towards the door looking back at them all. “I am going to that interview downstairs. It’s about me, is it not?” Angelo stood up, causing his chair to fall back. “Wait, you will only add more fuel to the fire!” I replied as I opened the door with two guards in black suits flanking nearby. “Never was anything great achieved without danger.”  
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