The Leader

2 Jazzy

CHAPTER 2

JAZZY

Jazzy looked at the screen of her phone and dread filled her stomach. Her sister had canceled their dinner plans. Again. She had an idea why Carmen suddenly had a “migraine.” Last time she’d made a surprise visit to Carmen, she hadn’t been able to cover up her bruises in time. She sure “fell” down the stairs a lot. Damn it. They were going to have a serious conversation about her f****d-up marriage, and soon. Right after Jazzy wrapped up her current business, which was attending a mandatory brunch back home.

Being the granddaughter of Antonio Rossi—banker to the underworld—came with certain obligations. Such as, when you were summoned by him, you had to show up.

Her cousins, Mary and Gina, were already sitting in the dining room. Her grandfather sat at the head of the table, giving her an impatient look.

“You are late.”

“Sorry, Nonno. I had some business to attend to.”

“It’s always business with you,” he scolded her. “Business and your computer. You should find a man and get married.”

Her grandfather’s views on a woman’s purpose in life were really old; as in, practically ancient. She rolled her eyes, gave him a peck on the cheek, and sat down next to him.

After their brunch had been served, her grandfather cleared his throat.

“Twenty years ago, I lost a very dear friend of mine, Giacomo Detta, enforcer to the Scolini family, in a turf war. Yesterday I met with his sons. Strong, capable men, especially the oldest, Giovanni Detta; or Gio, as his father used to call him. Gio has shown interest in Rossi Enterprises for the past year, and I have finally decided to hand over the reins of the company I built up to the next generation. I never let you girls in on the details of business, but the past few years have been hard. We need his money, or we will go bankrupt.”

A silence descended upon the room, until her oldest cousin broke it.

“What? How did this happen?” Gina looked pale.

Money was kind of Gina’s best friend. Jazzy couldn’t imagine Gina buying something that wasn’t design or couture.

Mary only looked worried. Probably thinking of the possible effect of the bankruptcy on their grandfather’s health. She always put others before herself.

The two sisters looked a lot alike on the surface, except for the way they dressed—Mary’s style was more Free People meets chic, favoring A-line dresses, with little braids in her curly hair.

“I have, however, found a simple solution for our problem,” their grandfather continued. “I offered to hand over my shares in Rossi Enterprises to Giovanni, in exchange for him marrying one of my granddaughters. He agreed. He gave me his word that the marriage will last for at least two years. That should be enough time to produce him an heir, solidifying your place in the Detta household. Gio will be joining us for dinner, to meet you girls. I expect to see all of you at this table tonight.”

And just like that, Jazzy lost her appetite. “I’m feeling nauseous all of a sudden. Please excuse me, so I don’t puke all over this table.” Refusing to listen to another word, she got up and went to change into her track clothes. She desperately needed to clear her mind.

***

When Jazzy returned from her afternoon run, she found Gina in the hallway.

“Don’t forget to sprinkle on some Chanel on your fancy dress,” Jazzy said, earning a dirty look from Gina who, as usual, was prettying herself up in front of a mirror.

Unlike Mary and Gina, Jazzy hadn’t stayed long enough to listen to the specifics of the bombshell their grandfather had dropped on them. It wasn’t hard to figure out why Gina had remained sitting at the table. Her oldest cousin was born to be arm candy to some rich, powerful man. And Mary, well, she was too polite to tell someone off, let alone their grandfather.

Jazzy, however, wasn’t afraid to flip anyone the bird, even if it was her nonno. That is, she wasn’t afraid to do it mentally. Though the ornery man sometimes drove her crazy, she did love him and would never disrespect him that way. Didn’t mean she would keep sitting at the table listening to some archaic bullshit about an arranged marriage, though. She wouldn’t ever entertain the possibility of willingly chaining herself to this Detta guy. Her goal was to extract herself from this life, not to further get pulled into it. She had plans for her future; plans that didn’t involve some overbearing asshole, like this Detta no doubt was.

A simple Google search had proven that the billionaire mogul fit the profile. Tall, dark, and handsome. Add in his wealth, and it painted a picture of a spoiled, entitled man, who was used to getting what he wanted. A man who took, but never gave anything in return. Her sister’s marriage was proof of what a man like Detta was capable of. How he could snuff the life and light out of someone.

“That’s what you are wearing tonight?” Gina’s look of disdain couldn’t be missed.

Jazzy looked down on her pink sport shorts and gray top. She was all sweaty, having just returned from a run and, after a shower, she was obviously going to change. Then again, the outfit she had chosen to wear for dinner—skinny jeans and a simple silk top—wouldn’t have met Gina’s approval either. Her cousin did love to make her feel as if wearing anything but a designer dress during their weekly family dinner equaled a capital offense.

Well, she wasn’t going to dress up, just so Detta could check her out as if he were buying a horse.

“I sure am,” Jazzy lied, as she sent a message to Tommie. Her former college mate and business partner had send her some files she needed to take a look at. Their business plan was coming nicely together, but there were still some things they had to decide on.

“Guess you’re not making a play for him then?” Gina asked, a sneer in her voice.

“Of course not. And neither should you.” She might not always see eye-to-eye with Gina, but she wouldn’t wish her sister’s fate on any woman.

“That’s easy for you to say. You have always been the favorite. The old man can’t refuse you a thing, always granting you more freedom than any of us.” This time, there was a bitterness in Gina’s tone no one could have missed. It even made Mary look up from the couch.

“That’s not true,” Jazzy protested.

“Isn’t it? Which one of us was allowed to live in a dorm room? Which one of us was allowed to go on a road trip to Canada?”

Jazzy was speechless for a moment. She’d never considered these things before. In hindsight, perhaps her grandfather had granted her more freedom, or so it may seem from the outside. Gina had no idea of what Jazzy had been through; how she had gone on a path of self-destruction during her teens. Picking a fight with any kid who even looked at her funny, ready to hit them before they could attack her. Her so-called “road trip” had been to a personal boot camp. In a desperate attempt to keep her from getting hurt, her grandfather had locked her up with a martial arts teacher for a whole month. Right until the moment Jazzy had been beaten down as many times as she was able to get up. Until she had finally gained some control over her body, her life. Until she no longer woke up every night from a nightmare, screaming her lungs out. Until her grandfather could come to grips with what had happened under his own roof. Something he carried a guilt over to this day.

“I had no idea you felt this way.”

Gina snorted. “Of course you didn’t. All you care about is your precious laptop. We are going to lose everything if one of us doesn’t marry this man. Maybe you can, but I won’t be this selfish. I will never be granted total freedom anyway, so I have a simple choice to make. If I’m going to live in a golden cage for the rest of my life, I would like it to be a nice one, the best one. Gina Rossi doesn’t do poverty.”

And of course, it was no hardship to marry the man. Giovanni Detta was hot after all. He seemed to have cold eyes, but from Gina’s point of view, his net worth would more than make up for that. Gina would consider him an upgrade from her latest ex, a stock market millionaire.

She supposed Gina did have a point, from a practical standpoint. With their background, no ordinary man would survive their family and all that came with it. Their grandfather reminded them, all too often, about how they could be used as leverage against him. How they could end up getting hurt if a deal went wrong. Hence the “you need to marry into a strong family” mantra. Something she would have called him on, if her uncle hadn’t been killed in a hit and run years ago.

“Gina, please,” Mary chimed in from across the hall. “I’d think you would be glad. After all, this way, there’s less competition for you.” She winked at Jazzy, in a clear attempt to lighten the mood.

“Right.” Gina’s look said she didn’t consider Jazzy competition whatsoever. With a confident smile on her face, she turned and went upstairs.

Gina was right, of course. After all, Gina looked like an Italian goddess: tall, with blond, glossy, curly hair, and packaged in a designer dress. Jazzy, on the other hand, curvy, with her ragged skinny jeans, and biker boots, didn’t exactly fit the profile of a high-society wife.

“How are you holding up?” Mary asked as she came up to her. “I haven’t seen much of you after Mike’s funeral.”

“I’m fine.” She didn’t want to discuss the aftermath of her friend’s death. There wasn’t anything to discuss. He’d lived, got caught by the cruel monster called cancer, and had died. The world had lost a light; the universe, a star. Yet scum like Carmen’s husband got to live a full and healthy life. There was no justice in the world sometimes.

Mary gave her a pensive look. “You always say you are.”

“So, what about you? Do you want me to get you out of here?” Jazzy asked jokingly, in a desperate attempt to change the subject. She knew Mary would never shirk her duty—and that was the way she saw it—and leave. But if she did, Jazzy would find a way to get her out of the mansion before dinner. She had seen the cars arriving from a distance. Right now, the men were discussing business in the library. They still had about an hour. It wouldn’t be too hard to sneak past them, without ever even having to come face to face with Detta.

“Actually, I want to stay.” Mary’s cheeks turned pink. “See where this goes.”

“You do?” Jazzy asked, unable to hide her surprise.

“I’m not like you,” Mary said softly. “I just want to be a mom, have a family. And maybe he is the one. Maybe not. But I would like the chance to find out.”

“But think of the life you’d have as the wife of a man like Giovanni Detta,” Jazzy warned. “Surely he has enemies. No one becomes a billionaire at his age without some skeletons in his closet. You would have a security detail everywhere you went, for the rest of your life.” Also, she had a feeling that a man like that would have a tight leash on his wife.

Mary c****d a brow. “Don’t we already have one?”

“Yeah, but that’s because of Nonno. If you would marry someone outside of this world, you wouldn’t need bodyguards anymore. You would be free.” At least, that’s the way she envisioned her life.

“I like the security they give me,” Mary confessed, her eyes going to the scar on Jazzy’s wrist. The scar that had nearly cost her the use of her arm. “I need to feel safe. Ever since that night… if it hadn’t been for you, Jazzy—”

“Please don’t mention that night,” she cut her off.

“Sorry.” Mary immediately looked contrite.

“Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry I snapped at you. I just don’t want to talk about it.” Ever.

“You never do.” Mary sighed.

“So, um, how’s the counseling going?” Jazzy felt obligated to ask about it, though a part of her really didn’t want to.

Mary immediately perked up. “Quite well, actually. I mean, what happened was over a decade ago, and I still have a lot to process, but I’m getting there. I wish you would go see Dr. Stein as well, instead of bottling everything up. In fact, he asked about you and how you were handling it. I mean, I know I wasn’t to blame for—”

“Of course you weren’t. You were just a kid.”

“So were you, Jazzy. So were you. I think sometimes you forget that.”

It wasn’t that she forgot, per se. She just hadn’t really been a kid since her parents had died the day before her tenth birthday. And the irony of it was, that it hadn’t been by a hit by one of the other Families. In fact, it had nothing to do with her father or grandfather’s business. There was nothing to blame but bad weather conditions for the car crash that had killed them. That, however, had made Jazzy all the more determined to keep whatever family she had left.

Speaking of remaining family, her grandfather just turned around the corner. She peeked over his shoulder, curious if Detta trailed after him, but that was not the case. When her nonno’s gaze roamed over her sweaty workout gear, she expected him to scold her. He surprised her though, by gesturing her to him, and not saying a word.

“I was going to change before dinner,” she muttered. She didn’t want him to think she would disrespect him like that, showing up in front of his guests all sweaty.

“I need something from the safe. Please get me my pocket watch.”

“Really? Right now?”

Him sending her to his almost prehistoric safe had started when she’d hurt her arm. The blade that had cut through her wrist had done some nerve damage, almost causing her to lose strength in her arm. A long and gruesome healing process had followed. Her grandfather, being the ornery man he was, had played a big part in her regaining that strength. Any normal grandfather would have given her a ball to pinch. Hers had taught her how to open a safe, over and over again, until she had rebuilt the muscle power she had lost. Every now and then, he still sent her to open the safe with the heavy bolt on it. It had become their thing.

“Yes, Jocelyn. Now.”

She knew that tone. It meant she wasn’t going to win this argument.