A debt has been incurred. And they've come to collect.
Vanessa Cruz is a young black woman, simply trying to survive in a world set up to conspire against her prosperity. Grinding Monday to Friday, and working Friday to Sunday left her no room to h...
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He was stunned.
I was surprised he didn't shoot me at point blank range when I saw his hand instinctively reach for the back of his waistband, but something in my voice must have made him want to hear me out.
He listened intently while I told him a summary of the events that had led us to meeting in this way. I thought he would scoff and tell me to mind the little girl business that paid me, but, I wasn't aware of how good of a communicator I was, especially under pressure. My tone, facial expression and body language captivated my one man audience.
He knew I was serious.
He also knew I worked under Capo Leo, who was one of his favourites of his class, and tonight had only solidified his opinion of the young man.
"Okay, so why didn't you let your boss know." His accent was like Guido's; thick and reminiscent of a time long gone. Gangster with an "er".
"I didn't want to tip anyone off, in case they had a plan b. The men I heard speaking were on your security personnel, so I didn't know who else had been compromised. I also didn't want to cause mass hysteria in case I was wrong, or worse, something did happen, God forbid." He let my reasoning wash over him. It made sense. This was threat that could be neutralised without any of the guests ever finding out. The men that seemed to spearhead the plans wouldn't be leaving this building conscious, and anyone of suspected of facilitating this elaborate plan to end the Don's life would be rounded up when they last expected to be.
He pulled his phone out and called his consigliere, who was sat at the table the Don had just vacated. The quiet, observant man had abstained from the table's wine fuelled conversation, opting to keep his eyes and ears open as he usually did. He stood up, to take the call and didn't arouse anyone's attention.
The man in front of me had started speaking in a low, coded manner, but from what I could make out, he was basically asking him to check out my concerns. The call was ended without a formal goodbye, and now we stood, waiting for him to conclude his investigations.
"So what is a young, beautiful girl like you doing, working for a brute like Leo?" He was referring to the more violent, nefarious side of the man I shared a bed with. I heard tales of the time that Angelo had spent as a foot soldier. He became known as Mr Make It Happen.
A man that went to all extents to get the job done, torture included.
"I needed a job and he was hiring." I smiled softly, chuckling a little bit at the white lie I had told. I'm sure if this man dug deep enough, he would find out the truth, but the NDA I had signed was an invisible ankle tag I wore at all times, requiring me to remain silent on the true nature of my job.
