The Mafia’s Obsession

Ayla

Three days later

I feel a grim sort of satisfaction as the guard leads me to the clear pane of bulletproof glass separating me from my father. I sit down, unable to read the expression on his face. With a deep breath, I pick up the phone receiver and put it to my ear.

“Hey, dad.”

He stares at me like he doesn’t know what to say, then nods several times. “Ayla. My only daughter. Congratulations on your marriage. Sorry I couldn’t come to the wedding.” There’s bitterness in his voice. “I would have loved to give you away.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet you would have.”

A lengthy, awkward pause. I’m waiting for his retort. My father shakes his head. “Happy?”

I gulp. “Yeah. I am happy.”

“I understand why you did it, you know. In a way, I respect it. You beat me. You’re more ruthless than I thought.”

I think back to huddling in the closet of our “vacation” home and making the fateful decision to reveal our location to Alessio. How much has changed since then. “I wasn’t trying to be ruthless. I was trying to take control of my life. Did you think I was just going to follow your orders forever?”

“Hey, take some credit. You deserve it. Setting up your father for a prison sentence is pretty ruthless. You’ll go far with that mindset.”

It takes a moment for it to hit me that we aren’t talking about the same thing. “Wait. Do you think I set you up? I was talking about…” I try to choose my words carefully, knowing we’re being recorded. “I was talking about marrying Alessio.”

“Oh, I’m sure he helped. Are you denying it?”

“Yes, I am denying it. Do you think I would do that to my own father?”

He raises his eyebrows. “I already know the way you betrayed me that you can’t deny. Don’t pretend it’s a stretch.”

“Well, I didn’t.”

He pauses, somewhat thoughtfully, and I honestly can’t tell whether he believes me or not. “I suppose it doesn’t matter now.”

“And what exactly does that mean?”

“It means that whatever happens next, my grandchildren will inherit what I’ve built. Whether I give it to them, or you do.”

“And how would you give it to them?” I snap. “You got a way of getting through this bulletproof glass I don’t know about?”

The guard next to us raises his head, staring at me pointedly.

My father shrugs. “It’s amazing what’s possible in this great legal system of ours. God bless America.”

I glance at the guard, choosing each word with caution. “And you think you can just get it all back? Even if they let you walk out of here? Things have changed since you’ve been gone.”

“Oh, I’m sure they have. Is that why you came to visit me? To tell me things have changed?”

My fists clench. “Yes. I wanted to tell you that BCU reversed its decision. I’ll be starting school as a freshman next fall. Funny how you couldn’t do anything about that.”

He tries not to react, but I see his eyes flash. “Like I said, ruthless. That’ll take you places. You really are my daughter.”

“I would never take away from you what you tried to take from me.”

“Like my life? My freedom?”

I stare at him. “You really still think I set you up?”

He sneers. “No, of course not. 20-year-old cold cases get prosecuted all the time.”

“It’s like you can’t decide if you’re proud of me, or want to kill me.”Content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Yes. Exactly.”

In spite of how hard I’ve worked to cut him out, to not care, my lip still quivers. He’s my dad. I don’t want us to be enemies. I want him to love me. “Why did you even force me to marry him in the first place?” I ask bitterly, close to tears. “What is wrong with you? Why would you arrange that if you were just planning to take it away at the last minute?”

My father closes his eyes. When he opens them, his face is impassive. “I did intend for you to marry Alessio. You’ve been pledged to him for a very, very long time. Since you were young.”

What? It’s impossible to hide the shock on my face. “I… what do you mean, since I was young?”

He just laughs, eyes gleaming with the realization that he’s finally found some power over me, even from behind the bulletproof glass. “You think you know everything about this? Oh, I guess you don’t. Why don’t you ask your husband about it, if you think he’ll tell you.” He leans back in his chair.

A familiar sense of resentment washes over me and I stand up, my own chair flying out behind me. “Enjoy prison.” I drop the receiver and storm out.

Ayla

“Ayla! I’m so happy!” Belle-Ann wraps her arms around me as we meet outside Gino’s bar, a popular Gonzalez family hangout.

I squeeze her back, grinning. “And you thought you were going to be rid of me.”

We’re here to celebrate me getting back into Bover City University. Dominguez and Alessio stand behind us on the sidewalk, waiting to go inside.

As we find a table and sit down, I try to ignore the swirl of misgivings I have after the conversation with my father. I don’t know how to understand what he just told me. I’ve been pledged to Alessio since I was young? Fucking yuck. And also, what the hell?

Ask your husbandabout it, if you think he’ll tell you.

I make eye contact with Alessio, sitting across from me, and his handsome face smiles back. What does he know that I don’t? What game am I a pawn in that he never even bothered to tell me about? I squirm at the feeling of being used, and I hate it. It’s exactly why I wanted to leave this life behind me.

“Mr. and Mrs. Razone! So good to see you you here. How’s your night going?” The bar owner approaches us, beaming.

Alessio puts his arm around me. “Good, thank you, Luigi. We’re celebrating Mrs. Razone getting accepted to her first-choice college.”

The owner claps his hands. “Congratulazioni, Mrs. Razone! But seeing as this is a bar… Can I see some ID?”

I freeze. Alessio assured me we wouldn’t get carded here.

Luigi’s face breaks into a smile. “I joke, I joke. The look on your face. Where are you going to school?”

“Bover City University,” I tell him. “Not too far from home.”

“A splendid choice! My niece studies there. Psychology. Very good school. I’ll send a dessert to your table, on the house.”

I blush. “Oh, it’s okay, you don’t have to-”

“Nonsense! I’ll pick it up myself from the bakery across the street. Only the best for the Razones.”

He scurries off, and I’m left blinking. Even as Anthony Gonzalez’s daughter, I never got that kind of treatment. But walking in here now with Alessio, the boss of the two most important families in Bover City, is different. I canfeelthat everyone in the room knows who we are, and wants us to approve of them.

Playing pool near us are two guys I recognize from the wedding circuit. Gonzalez family associates, I’m pretty sure. They come up to our table and congratulate me, making sure to shake Alessio’s hand.

“Feel like the boss now?” Dominguez smirks, lowering his voice after they leave. “They’re like dogs begging for scraps.”

“Shit, that’s my dad,” says Belle-Ann, ducking.

Belle-Ann’s father is a captain in the Gonzalez family. I turn and see him walking into the bar, along with Gio the Butcher.

“And that’s Giovanni Lombardo,” says Dominguez, looking out of the corner of his eye. “Two Gonzalez captains. Let’s see what they do.”

They see us as they enter and immediately walk over to our table.

“Mr. and Mrs. Razone!” Belle-Ann’s father greets us, smiling a little too broadly. “And in such great company!” He leans down and kisses Belle-Ann on the cheek. “Gio, have you met my daughter, Belle-Ann?”

“A pleasure,” says Lombardo, his own fake warmth slightly more believable. He shakes hands with Alessio, nods to Dominguez, and gives me a kiss on the cheek while I try not to cringe.

I feel awkward, but no one else seems to. Apparently, I’m the only one who cares that the last time we saw each other, Alessio and Dominguez fed Gio the Butcher’s second-in-command to his own piranhas.

The bar owner comes back with a box of cannoncini, flaky Italian pastry horns filled with velvety cream. He congratulates me again as he places the box in front of us.

“Special occasion?” asks Belle-Ann’s father, eyeing the pastries and then his daughter, as though trying to figure out what she’s done to earn a seat at the boss’s table.

“Ayla just got accepted to Bover City University,” she tells him, nudging me. “We’re celebrating.”

“Ah! I forgot you two were close. Such a wonderful thing, to stay in touch with our childhood friends. Ayla, I hope you have a wonderful time in school.”

“Thanks,” I say uncomfortably. Everyone is being so nice to me now, even more than they were before. I guessboss’s wifetrumpsboss’s daughter. Did my mom get treated like this when my dad was in charge? She probably did.

“Well, don’t let us interrupt,” says Gio, glancing at his companion. “Enjoy your dessert! Congratulations, Ayla. I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time at BCU.”

Both men give Alessio a deferential nod, then they find seats at the bar.

Belle-Ann taps my foot under the table. “Did you see my dad’s face when he realized I was sitting with his boss?”

***

An hour and a few drinks later, we’re having a good time. Belle-Ann lets loose a bit after her father leaves, making all of us laugh with a story about how she and I used to sneak out of our high school English class.

“And the best part is,” Belle-Ann chokes, “we managed to convince Mrs. Rivera that we had a conflict with an elective on Fridays, so she wouldn’t even mark us absent!”

“I knew you were a pair of delinquents,” chuckles Dominguez. “From the first time I saw you hiding in the orchard smoking pot at that wedding, I thought,’these girls are trouble.'”

“Didn’t do a very good job of staying out of trouble, then,” says Belle-Ann. “Didn’t you take a hit from my joint?”

He shrugs. “Hey, I never said I had a problem with trouble. I love trouble.”

The door to the bar opens and three tall, athletic-looking men enter, all wearing hoodies for the BCU football team. Belle-Ann glances over, then ducks, her face turning red.

“What is it?” I ask. I don’t recognize any of the guys.

“That’s Jason,” she mutters. “The one I told you about.”

“Shit. Do you want to leave?”

“Wait, what’s going on?” Dominguez asks. “Do you know those guys?”

Belle-Ann looks like she doesn’t want to answer. I glance at her. “Is it okay if I explain?”

She nods. “Go ahead.”

I sigh and turn to Dominguez. “The blond one is somebody Belle-Ann matched with on a dating app a couple weeks ago. Quarterback on the BCU team or something. They went on one date, she broke things off, and he’s been borderline-stalking her ever since.”

“Borderline-stalking her?”

Belle-Ann rubs her forehead, still keeping her face turned away from the group of football players. “He keeps ‘running into me’ on my way to class and asking why I won’t give him a second date. Was sending about 20 texts a day until I blocked his number.”

“Jesus. Want me to go have a talk with him?”

She looks sharply at Dominguez, as though somewhere between impressed and tempted, but shakes her head. “I don’t want to make a scene. He hasn’t bothered me since last week. Maybe he got bored.”

“Well if you change your mind,” says Alessio, “Dom and I have your back.”

“I thought that was you!”

Belle-Ann and I both wince at the sound of Jason the football player’s slurred voice. He swaggers over to our table, confident as can be, eyes narrowing cruelly.

“Can I help you?” Alessio asks.

Jason ignores him. “Hey, Belle-Ann! Remember me?”

“My friend asked if he can help you,” Dominguez growls.

The football player takes a step closer to him, puffing out his broad shoulders. “Shut up. I’m not talking to you.”

Immediately, the atmosphere in the bar changes. Less chatter, more people paying attention to our table.

“I don’t want to date you,” says Belle-Ann, face bright red, “so just fuck off and leave me alone.”

“You should go rejoin your friends,” says Alessio, his voice low and deadly.

“Or what?” Jason turns his attention back to Belle-Ann. “You think I want to date you? You wouldn’t put out anyway, you bitch.”

Dominguez stands up from his chair instantly, getting in his face. The football player looks like he outweighs him, but I know that whatever confidence he draws from that fact is badly, badly misplaced.

“Get the fuck out of here,” says Dominguez. “Or you’re going to get hurt.”

Jason takes a step backwards, but he seems more amused than intimidated. “Ooh, I’m so scared, your new boyfriend threatened to beat me up. Whatever shall I do?” He looks over at his group of friends, who laugh.

Dominguez doesn’t budge. “Last warning.”

Jason’s eyes flash. “Hey, wait a second. I just realized something!” He looks over at Belle-Ann with an evil grin. “You’re only 20 years old. It said so in your profile. Are you drinking illegally?” He raises his voice so the whole bar can hear. “This one’s underage! She’s drinking with a fake ID!”

Luigi the bar owner stomps over to our table holding a bat.”Out!”he yells. “Get the fuck out of my bar!”

Jason eyes the bat, then laughs. “Just having a little fun. Don’t worry, I’m going. Come on, guys.”

He motions to his friends and they get up, one of them intentionally spilling a drink on his way out.

Luigi lowers his bat as the door closes behind them. “Those three aren’t allowed in here anymore,” he says to the bartender. “Sorry about the disturbance, folks.”

***

But about 15 minutes later, the door opens again. It’s the three football players, and this time, they have a police officer with them.

“This is the place,” Jason announces proudly. “They allow underage drinking in here. The bar condones it.” He points to Belle-Ann. “Ask for her ID. She’s only 20 years old. If her license says otherwise, it’s a fake.”

The police officer walks slowly over to our table, then stops. Belle-Ann stiffens.

“Sorry to interrupt your evening, Mr. Razone,” the cop addresses Alessio. “I’m happy to book the three of them now, keep them in the drunk tank overnight. Or I can fuck off back to my beat and let you deal with them your way.”

My husband gives him a tight smile. “Thanks, Paul. No need to add paperwork to your night. We’ll take it from here.”

Jason and his two friends watch with mouths agape as the officer walks past them and exits the bar, whistling to himself. One of the men drinking by the door locks it behind him.

“Uhh, what the fuck just happened?” asks Jason’s friend, staring at him in confusion.

Jason doesn’t get the chance to answer before someone smashes him in the back of the head with a bottle. The other two football players have no time to react. They’re surrounded by a group of Mafia guys armed with bottles and pool cues, beating them down viciously in an attempt to impress the boss.

I turn to my husband, torn between horror and a dark sense of satisfaction. He’s watching with a blank, dead-eyed look on his face, the same one I remember from his grandfather’s funeral. It’s like he’s been transported to a different place. Next to me, Belle-Ann is frozen, staring at the table in front of her as the beating continues.

Then suddenly, Alessio stands up.”Enough!”He holds out his hand.

The beatdown stops. Instantly. Jason and his two friends stay on the ground, bleeding and groaning.

“Get them out of here,” Alessio snarls.

A couple of men rush to pick up the football players. They drag them out the back door and leave them in the alley.

Dominguez turns to his friend. “You think we should get out of here?”

Alessio nods, his eyes still dead. “Yes.”

We walk out to the parking lot in silence. Alessio uses his phone to unlock the car.

Then flames shoot to the sky and an incredible, deafening bang shatters the night as his Tesla explodes in an enormous ball of fire. He wraps his arms around me, shielding me with his body from the heat while Dominguez does the same with Belle-Ann