Nicolas
I would definitely join forces with an Alfonsi. Phantom. Phantom.
That woman called me Phantom. She knows who I am.
"Would you stop?" I snapped at Anastasia, the edge in my voice making her stop and turn to me, her jaw clenched as she cocked her head at me. A silent challenge in her eyes. "You're driving me crazy."
We were all waiting in the hallway of a rundown building that we use as an off-the-books location. It was hidden, deserted and perfect for when you want to keep someone without worrying they'll be found. So we waited impatiently as Elijah restrained the so-called Ximena. It struck a nerve in me that her presence made me feel uneasy. I kept asking myself why she knew me. How she knew me. I didn't like the mystery behind. I didn't like the feeling of not being under control. I kept doubting my memory. Did I know her?
Anastasia narrowed her eyes as she stalked over to me. Her face expressing nothing short of menace. "She knows who you are."
No shit.
I curled my lip, turning my eyes away from her. "Gee, Sia. You've caught me. I've been working with her all along."
As if realizing how she came off, she took a step back, eyes apologetic. "That's not... I just don't understand why she knows your name."
I shrugged it off, despite being more confused myself. "My parents? They were huge when they were alive. Pretty influential. Maybe that's how."
That could actually be an answer. It would explain how they knew of me. It made sense. But it didn't satisfy me. I'm not a person that deals well with anxiety.
"We were taught about all of you," Devina spoke up. It was obvious that she was Rayaan's sister. They were like two drops of water. In appearance and personality. And it sucked balls that I was doubting them both in this moment. "We had these lessons as part of our training where they fed us information on every important gang leader and other important mafia-affiliates."
"Why can't you give us the information," Anastasia said. "Why do we have to depend on her? If you were there why can't you save us the trouble of having to turn to her."
"Because I know she'll help you. She wasn't in the NCH because she believed in the cause. She thought it was a waste of time and unnecessary murder of a bunch of irrelevant people. She was there because of an ulterior motive. She hated Mussolini as much as she hates everyone in the Bianchi family."
I raised an eyebrow, "did you believe in the cause, then?"
"That's not what I'm saying," Devina said harshly. "She has more information and on top of that a motive for helping you. She hates Bianchi's, but if you play the right cards, she'll be willing."
I stared at her blankly.
Devina sighed, "there is a ranking order in the NCH. The higher your number is, the more you know. I'm a Three. I know only a little more than basics. I know about you, I know about who's allied with who and who's against who. I follow orders and get sent on errands. Ximena is a Six. She's higher on the scale. Her knowledge of their ways and their motives goes deeper than mine. She can give you more valuable information."
"How does the ranking work?" Rayaan asked. He had been avoiding my eyes. Avoiding me. "Who's at the head?"
"Technically speaking, Onnipotente is at the head. He's a descendant of the original Nine Circles. After Onnipotente goes Nine. I have never seen Nine and don't know who they are. The only one who has seen Nine is Onnipotente and Eight. Nine is the one who is sent to get the most important ones. He took care of Barbara Schweihs and he'll be the one sent to take care of Anastasia. I know that much."
"So, what?" I snapped. "Why now? Why did your group decide to fuck us over now?"
"Angelo Mussolini. From what Ximena told me, he was the one who funded Onnipotente to allow him to restart it again. As a contingency plan in case his failed. He and Michael Rios recruited many of--"
"Michael?" Anastasia said softly. Like her breath had left her.
"Yes," Devina confirmed. "He was the more hands-on one. He created every training technique for us. He gave us information. He was the nicest out of all of them, too."
Anastasia snorted at that. I looked at her curiously. Michael had betrayed her, but to my knowledge, he was a good father to her. She had told me she struggled so much with his betrayal because she loved him. She thought he loved her too. I met Michael way back when, and he always seemed like a nice guy. He brought up Mateo and Gabriel, too. It cost me a lot to believe he was a bad guy.
But nice he always was and Anastasia wasn't one to give a reaction unless she either wanted to, or couldn't contain it. It seemed like she couldn't contain it. Reading her had become simple. After we spoke that one time, she's honest around me. Doesn't hide herself anymore. It's easy to tell she couldn't contain by the way her face hardened after she realized she gave a reaction. It went blank, leaving her out in the open, then quickly hardened to block out any other words from getting to her.
Anastasia loved Michael. She told me so. She said it hurt her that he betrayed her because he was such a great father figure. He had to have been nice to her. Right?
"What about me?" Jonathan cut through the doubts in my mind. He was another reminder of how little I knew my girlfriend. I knew her now. But I knew close to nothing of what her life was before. She feeds me in bits. Like her favorite foods, her favorite activities as a child. Tells me stories about her dreams when she was a child. But, looking at Jonathan, I realized she's never spoken about her childhood in detail with me. She's never truly told how it was, just how she felt about it. And sometimes it felt like she painted a fantasy for herself.
"What about you?" Anastasia asked.
He looked at Devina. "You said Dad-- Michael , was part of this plan. He must have known I was going to take over his gang."
"He did," Devina nodded.
"Okay, then was he planning on killing me?" Jonathan pointed at himself, beginning to pace around the hallway. "I was attacked by you crazy fuckers. Was that part of his plan, too? Kill his own son? Not that I'd expect any less from that piece of shit."
"No," Devina's voice was soft. "He had aspirations that you'd join him. When he revealed himself, he was going to go back for you and Jessica. You two would help lead over every gang he and Angelo conquered. That was always the plan. Weaken gangs so they could make them stronger by their own rule and at their mercy."
A dark laugh came out of Jonathan. "He thought we would join him? Even after finding out he was the one who sent out to kill my mother? After what he did to--"
"Jonathan," Anastasia cut him off. She looked angry, but masked it off by turning it on him. "Make your point."
Jonathan narrowed his eyes at her, giving her a fierce stare. Even not being biological siblings, they were identical in their mannerisms. If it wasn't for their physical differences, they'd be like clones. Jonathan was taller than Anastasia by at least a foot. His skin was a dark shade of brown, while Anastasia's was more a light tan. His hair was black, eyes dark brown and body lean. Anastasia was small, green eyes and hair thick and brown. Jonathan was Colombian, and Anastasia was Italian, but all her gestures and her way of speech was purely Bogota.
Years upon years of learning human behavior and these two just proved what I've been taught for so long: behaviors are learned and not inherited. These two are different in more than one way, but were raised the same way and act as such. People are so complex and, if I wasn't forced to learn about them, so I could learn how to kill and manipulate them, I'd have never bothered.
"I don't believe Michael would actually think I would join him," Jonathan said with finality.
"Angelo told him that for so long, but he insisted. He had plans to convince you. Show you that his way was the good way. He said you'd come to him after he showed you that what he did was needed to be done."
"Look how that worked out," he was the one who snorted this time. "I killed him myself."
Silence ensued the room for a long while. Jonathan looking like he was about to blow apart and Anastasia watching him in a calculated manner, following every movement of his. I was going to ask about something Ximena had said, but Elijah came outside. "We got her."
Anastasia got up, about to go inside, but Elijah stopped her. "She said she'll only speak to Nicolas. No one else."
Anastasia scoffed, "tell her to eat a dick. There's no way--"
"What?" I interrupted. "Why not?"
She turned to me, eyebrows raised. "I wasn't aware you were dying to speak to her? Am I missing something here?"
The downside of Anastasia being open to me is that she's open always. Unless she is actively trying to shut herself out to me, she is transparent. And, when I say downside, I mean for her. It's a very good upside for me. Seeing right through her was way easier when she let me.
"I can't believe this right now," I scoffed. "Is this a fit of jealousy? Are you serious right now?"
"What? No." Her head shook, but the embarrassment was clear. "Why would I be jealous of that crazy bitch? I mean, unless there's a reason to."
This couldn't be real. If the situation wasn't so dire, I would have laughed at the ridiculousness. Anastasia jealousy-is-below-me Bianchi acting like a possessive girlfriend now of all times? Leave it to her to feel threatened by some psychotic murderer like the one in the other room rather than an actual nice girl that I actually had something with like Aera. If my love for her wasn't so all-consuming, I would have been put off by the people she thinks I'd take a liking to.
I shook my head at her, "no. There isn't a single reason. You know what? Throw your fit. I'm going in there. We'll talk about this later."
She did a double take, looking at me with furrowed brows. She wasn't used to me telling her off. I didn't like to, mostly because she already has difficulty feeling like the head of the organization that she is, so doing so would make her feel worse. Her words seemed caught in her throat as she stared at me. I turned around, telling Gabriel to watch from the security room before heading inside.
***
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