“Now, close the page.”
With a shaking hand, I clicked out of the browser and deleted the history.
“Good,” the voice whispered in my ear. “You better hope you never see me again.”
But I can’t see you now, I wanted to protest. Who the hell are you?
After a few seconds, the death grip on my neck and mouth were released and I went hurling through the quiet air of the library, gasping and choking.
I tried to turn around and see who had attacked me, but the library was dark and quiet. The college kids were still sitting and studying, and I had the sinking feeling that none of them had noticed what had just happened. Nervously, I grabbed my bags and walked out of the library on shaky legs.
I knew what I had to d
o. I had to go downtown – to the police station – and report what had just happened. Obviously, someone in the Amoruso family was following me…and obviously, they wanted to keep what had happened to Michael a secret.
Well, this made me more determined than ever to bring my fiancé’s killer to justice.
I caught a cab and ducked low in the backseat as we drove downtown. The driver kept giving me odd looks in the rearview mirror, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was finding Detective Aberson and telling him what had happened to me. I could still feel the icy grip of fingers at the back of my neck, almost like I’d been grabbed by a ghost.
As the cab pulled up to the police station, I ducked my head up from the seat and quickly pulled a few dollars out of my wallet. That alone made me want to panic – I had almost nothing in my bank account, and in a few days, I’d be completely broke. If I didn’t get to work on finding Michael’s killer, I’d be out on the streets.
The cabbie eyed me. “You okay, lady?”
I nodded and sniffled. As he pulled away, I tried to stand up straight and figure out what to say to Detective Aberson. I was at the library, looking up the Amoruso family, and some guy threatened me, I thought. Yeah, that’s it. He’ll believe that, right? I mean, this is a ruthless family and they’re not going to stop until they make sure I won’t talk.
Just as my hand was on the door, someone grabbed me from behind. I cried out as fingers dug painfully into my upper arms and hustled me into a side alley. Someone threw me against the brick wall and pinned me back. When my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I realized it was a bulky man with olive skin and silver hair. He was breathing hard, and there was a bandage wrapped around his chest. His eyes were intense and dark, and the look on his face told me that he meant business.
“Don’t say a fucking word,” the man growled. He leaned in close. “I know why you’re here, and you’re gonna go home now and forget all about this.”
I whimpered and cried out in pain as he slammed me against the bricks once more.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I cried softly. “What do you want with me?”
The man growled. “You’d better fucking stop this bullshit right now, girlie,” the man hissed. It was a different voice than the one I’d heard at the library, and yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that the men were one in the same.
“I don’t know,” I cried. “Leave me alone!”
“Shut the fuck up,” the man hissed. “You keep your fucking nose out of this business, you understand? You ain’t got nothin’ to say to the cops, you hear me? You ain’t got nothin’!”
I narrowed my eyes and glared. “I’ll do whatever it takes to see the man who killed my fiancé brought to justice,” I growled. “Just try to stop me.”
The man shook his head slowly. He balled his hand into a fist and I closed my eyes, screwing my head away. When his fist connected with my jaw, pain bloomed in my head like I’d been shot. I cried out as he punched me over and over again. Stars and fireworks exploded in front of my eyes and I tasted salty, irony blood as my tongue sliced open against my teeth.
“The fuck you will,” the man growled. “You try anything else, and it’ll be the last thing you do.”
He started punching me over and over. As much as I tried to fight back, I knew that it was useless.
I was going to die, just like Michael, and I wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing about it.
Alessio
Two days later, I was back at home, on bond. I was fucking furious that Monty had taken so long to get me out of jail – it was embarrassing. As the head of the Amoruso crime family, I shouldn’t have had to wait like some peasant. I was one of the most important fucking men in New York, god damnit, and I wanted a little fucking respect.
Still, here I was – on a thirty thousand dollar bail. The money was just a drop in the bucket, I’d had Monty collect the cash from a few people who owed me, and I was out, just like that. Still, I wasn’t looking forward to trial. Monty kept saying he wasn’t sure if he could get me out or not, and I wanted to make sure that he wouldn’t ever work again in this town if I had to go back to prison for more than two fucking seconds. Sometimes, I hated the way the world had changed. It wasn’t possible anymore to be a respected boss – back in the day, being the head of a crime family meant actually getting some fucking respect. It meant making deals with the cops, and making deals with the “proper” businessmen of the town.
It certainly didn’t fucking mean wasting away in a holding cell while my incompetent lawyer bumbled with my bail and release.
The trial was set for a few months from now, and my goal was to find a couple of real hotshot lawyers. Either they’d scare Monty into behaving and doing his job, or I’d find the Amoruso family a real upgrade from Monty Giaradella. It was hard to believe my father had trusted Monty so blindly – Monty had done nothing so far to prove to me that he deserved the level of status and respect that he demanded.