Impossible Odds

19

“I’m not arguing with you about this. You can take it up with our fathers.” She opened her phone and began to dial. “You can’t tell them!” I hissed. “f**k that. If you think I’m keeping quiet about this, you’re deranged.” Her eyes darted away as her call was answered by a masculine voice.

“I’ve got a situation. Can you and Uncle Edoardo meet me in an hour at the house? I appreciate it … see you then.” She lowered the phone and glared at me. “Come on, we’re leaving.” *** “A f*****g sicario? Jesus, Giada. Your mother warned me you would end up in trouble, but I didn’t think you’d find yourself this deep.” My father massaged his forehead and paced along the wall of Uncle Enzo’s office. The force of his words was a punch straight to my gut. I wasn’t sure what was worse—the disappointment in my father’s voice or having him berate me in front of others. Uncle Enzo, Maria, and Matteo all eyed me in varying degrees of wariness and irritation. I told myself they were all just trying to protect me, but I felt as though I was being attacked, which made me defensive and angry. “Every one of you is a giant hypocrite, pointing fingers at Primo like he’s some monster because he’s in organized crime. Are you too high and mighty to see that you’re just the same?” “He’s a part of a cartel, Giada,” Uncle Enzo cut in before my red-faced father could lash out. “Those men are not like us, despite what you might want to believe. They have no code or honor among them. Their world is cutthroat—kill or be killed. They are savages. I can’t speak to this man, in particular, but any association with that world is dangerous. That’s why we’re concerned. We got word a while back that the cartels were moving in on the East Coast. Recently, they had trouble with the Russians, but we haven’t had any direct encounters with them. We knew they would show up eventually, but we’ve had no cause to act so far. I believe this could be their first move on us.” “And that’s precisely why they’re so much worse than us,” my father spat. “Going after women and children.” “It’s not like that,” I hurried to explain. “We met in Vegas, and he didn’t even know who I was.” Dad huffed, and Maria rolled her eyes, but it was Matteo that spoke up. “I’m not sure you grasp what the cartels are capable of. No one here is claiming to be innocent. However, our organizations and actions are a far cry from the depravity that has unfolded in Mexico, where the government has lost control over crime lords. Public executions, slaughtering pregnant women, trafficking children and women into the s*x trade, even bombing public places. They are the worst kind of terrorists, preying on their own people, and there is no one to stop them down there. They have absolute authority and no conscience whatsoever. We are businessmen, though more ruthless than most, but they are tyrants.” An unsettling chill permeated deep into my bones. Hearing Matteo give a calm, impartial analysis of the cartels put their concerns in a different light. He wasn’t an overreacting father or an uncle looking to keep me in line with exaggerated threats. I hardly knew him, so my death would mean little more to him than a funeral and consoling a mildly upset wife. He had no reason to lie. His explanation held a resounding note of truth, and I worried Primo posed far more danger than I’d imagined. He told me straight out that I should fear him. Maybe I needed to heed that warning. But if he’d wanted to hurt me, he could easily have done that already. Although, Matteo implied that any association with the cartels was dangerous. The threat wasn’t just Primo. I didn’t know what to say. It was entirely possible I’d gotten myself in worse trouble than I realized. Uncle Enzo filled the silence. “We don’t know what this man wants or what is going on yet, so until he’s left town and things settle, I want guards on the women of this family. We can communicate the threat to the capos and see what more we can learn on the streets.” “What does that mean? Am I going to be on lockdown or something?” “Not exactly, but I don’t want you leaving your apartment unless it’s necessary. If you do, we’ll need to get someone to escort you. I don’t want you out unprotected.” Enzo raised an eyebrow in warning. “I’m not trying to be difficult, I swear, but I can’t just stay in my apartment indefinitely. I have a nail appointment tomorrow, and I’ll have to get out occasionally just to stay sane.” “Enzo,” Matteo interjected, “unless you have someone in mind, I’m happy to volunteer my brother, Filip. I believe he’s already met Giada and is familiar with the situation.” Uncle Enzo nodded. “If you can spare him for a while, that would be a great help. Giada, we won’t ask anything oppressive of you, but I expect you to work with Maria and Filip while we sort this out. Will that be a problem?” My heart ached with a crushing disappointment that my sordid affair wasn’t to be all that I’d hoped. I felt an inexplicably strong connection with Primo, and I bitterly regretted not getting to explore where that might take us. I told myself it was best to end things if he was truly a part of something so horrific as Matteo described, but it was still hard to process that the man I’d met could be so evil. “It’s not a problem, Uncle Enzo. I’ll make sure to be safe.” My voice sounded weak and brittle to my ears, and I hated it. I didn’t want to be a wounded butterfly in need of saving. Yet that was where I stood, and it was all my fault. Leave it to me to fall for a criminal so dangerous that even my outlaw family didn’t approve. Maria drove me back to the city, but neither of us said a word. I thought about everything we’d discussed in Enzo’s office. They believed Primo had targeted me, but they didn’t know the truth. I’m the one who had targeted him. He had only hunted me down because I stole from him. His involvement in the cartel was merely circumstantial, but I couldn’t tell them that. Explaining how I’d stolen the lighter would be even more degrading than watching them all scowl at me for simply knowing Primo. He may be part of something dangerous, but he wasn’t nearly as conniving as they would believe. He had only responded to the situation I had created. Was there a way for me to get that point across without telling them all the sordid details? If there was, the solution escaped me. I didn’t want to be the family fuckup, but it also killed me to think of not seeing him again. Aside from having the most incredible s*x of my life, being with Primo made me feel alive. It was as though I’d been stuck in a holding cell all this time, waiting for my fate to be decided. Seeing him was that verdict I’d been waiting for, but instead of setting me free, it looked like I’d be locked up indefinitely.