His black t-shirt stuck to his skin from sweat, and his arms were covered in tattoos. Without the suit and cool demeanor, this man was pure danger. Nothing controlled about him now. Everything about him screamed death. My heart pounded in my chest as I waited for him to turn around and discover me. Would he kill me as well?
He wouldnât. He couldnât. My familyâs status still had to count for something, right?
But he walked out of the room without another glance at the man he killed â or at the wardrobe I was hiding in.
Only when he was gone and I didnât hear his steps anymore did I dare to breathe. And then a new fear set in. Where was Father and what was happening to him? And what about Mother and Talia? I had to go looking for them, even if every fiber of my body screamed at me to stay where I was. We needed to stay together, but leaving my hiding place was a huge risk. I glanced toward the dead body in the middle of the room again. Was that our fate too?
Then a more hopeful thought crossed my mind. Maybe weâd be spared. It wasnât a surprise that soldiers of the Camorra, like Growl was, killed members of the Bratva, their archenemies. Maybe there was a way we could convince everyone that the Russians hadnât been here for our protection but instead to kill us. Screams and shots rang out below. I listened for a familiar voice, Fatherâs voice, but it wasnât among the screams, neither were Taliaâs or Motherâs. They were probably still hiding in the master bedroom.
I closed my eyes. I wasnât accustomed to this world, even though Iâd grown up around people who were part of it. But Iâd always only brushed the edges of the nastiness my father was involved in. Now that I was thrown in headfirst, I wasnât sure how to act. Waiting like a mouse in a trap wasnât the solution though. At some point theyâd search the rooms properly, and then I didnât want to make it easy for them. I pushed to my feet and slowly opened the door, then stepped outside. Although I knew better, I crouched beside the Russian and pressed my fingers against his throat. He was still warm but there was no pulse. I considered doing CPR but then I noticed the way his neck was twisted and shoved away.
A violent shudder overwhelmed my body and for a moment I was sure I was going to have a panic attack, but the sound of voices brought me back to reality. I stood, my gaze falling on the knife the Russian had dropped during his struggle. I was about to take it when the words of the self-defense instructor that had given a weekend seminar at our school popped into my mind: âA weapon you canât control is another advantage for your enemy.â
I had no doubt that Iâd be disarmed in no time. Iâd never learned how to fight with weapons, or to fight at all. My friends and I hadnât taken the self-defense seminar very seriously. Now I wished I had. But weâd been so busy ogling our instructor that we hadnât had time for anything else.
How much time had passed?
Talia screamed somewhere in the house, and I started moving without thinking. I stormed out of the room. I wasnât sure how to help her, but I knew I needed to get to her. I didnât get very far though. I crashed into someone, my temple colliding with a hard shoulder. My vision turned black and I staggered back, gasping. I dropped to my knees. Pain shot through my legs from the impact. After a moment, I peered up and found myself staring at the man whoâd killed right in front of my eyes, the man whoâd scared and fascinated me since our first encounter. He was even taller this close up and there was a long faded scar that reached around his throat. Growl. Always Growl. My fascination gave way to nothing but fear when his eyes met mine. He didnât look human in that moment.
A killer, a monster â nothing human about his expression, or eyes, or him.
He grabbed my arm and pulled me roughly to my feet. My vision swam again. âTake her to the others,â he rasped. That voice, so deep and rough, sent a shiver down my back.
Another man took me by the arm and led me away. I threw another glance over my shoulder but, Growl, the man with the scar and no mercy, was gone. I hardly paid attention to my surroundings and almost fell down the stairs when my captor dragged me downstairs until we arrived in the living room where Father, Mother and Talia were already gathered. Father knelt on the floor in front of Falcone, who was dressed in a pin-striped suit and a high-collared stark white shirt. Talia and Mother stood a few steps back, looking as terrified as I felt. I was pushed toward them and Mother immediately wrapped an arm around me. The other was already holding onto Talia. I gave Mother a questioning look but she was watching Falcone with terrified eyes. Finally, I turned toward him as well. Heâd been creepy at his party, but today he looked truly frightening.
Benedetto Falcone, Fatherâs boss and the head of the mafia in Las Vegas, was in our house and the look in his eyes turned my stomach to ice. That he was in our living room was a horrible sign. It could only mean that Father had messed up badly. And that Father was sweating profusely only confirmed my worries.
Somewhere in the house I could still hear the telltale sounds of a brutal fight. I shivered. The men gathered in this room all looked like theyâd come for blood. The dead man in the corner and upstairs in Taliaâs bedroom didnât seem to be enough.
Heavy steps came down the staircase and a few moments later Growl stalked in. His hands and forearms were covered in blood. I wasnât sure if it was his own but I doubted it.
Falcone looked his way. âAll clear, Growl?â he asked with mild curiosity, as if he knew the answer already and I supposed he did. All the stories Iâd heard in whispered voices flashed through my mind.
Growl was invincible.
The man in front of me tonight had little to do with the man Iâd seen at Falconeâs party. Back then Growl had been in disguise. While other people had to put on masks, that suit and cleaned up appearance had been his, but beneath it the same monster had been lying in wake. Now there was no mistaking who or what he truly was. The best soldier in the rows of the Las Vegas Camorra, and a monster. Thatâs what people always said behind his back and now I saw it too. He was a fighting machine without emotions, a brutal hand of Benedetto Falcone.
âAll clear,â Growl said in that deep rumble that was his voice. For the first time I could see the long scar around his throat. His vocal cords had been injured by the accident that had given him the long scar around his throat. Growl shouldnât have survived a wound like that but somehow he had, and perhaps it had turned him into the monster he was now, or perhaps heâd only survived because he was a monster.
Falcone turned away from his soldier and Growl faded into the background. I wasnât sure how he managed to do it; a man with his size and aura shouldnât have been able to blend into his surroundings that easily, to make you forget he was even there. That was probably one of the skills that made him such a feared fighter.
Falcone stepped closer to Father, forcing him to tilt his head back.
âI hear youâve been busy these last few months,â Falcone began in a pleasant drawl that made the hairs on the back of my neck rise. His grin was nasty and malicious. It promised punishment.
Father swallowed, but he didnât say anything. Why wasnât he saying anything?
âHow much of my money have you kept for yourself, Brando?â Falcone asked, still in that horribly pleasant voice.
My stomach constricted. I couldnât believe Father had stolen from his Boss. He wouldnât have been that stupid. Everybody knew what happened to people who messed with Falcone.
Falconeâs smile widened and he gave a small nod toward one of his man, who immediately went outside and returned a few moments later, with Cosimo at his heels, as usual impeccably dressed. What was he doing here?
Perhaps he would vouch for Father.
But Father blanched at the sight of my future husband and I knew my hope was in vain. Father looked like he wanted to say something but he remained silent.
I tried to catch Cosimoâs eyes, but his gaze didnât once seek me out. Why was he ignoring me? We were practically engaged; our engagement party was set for the New Year. Shouldnât he take care of me?
He was looking at father with an expression that made my stomach turn. This was going to end badly.
âWhy donât you tell me again what you told me a few days ago?â Falcone said to Cosimo, never taking his eyes off Father.
âAfter weâd come to an agreement about the engagement to his daughter, Brando came to me and asked me if I wanted to earn some extra money. He told me about the deal he had with the Bratva, and that he was taking money from you.â
Father didnât say anything. I wanted to shake him, wanted to make him deny Cosimoâs outrageous claims. With every second that he didnât, my hopes for a merciful ending to this evening disappeared. I tried to catch Cosimoâs gaze again, still hoping, and when he finally looked my way, my heart sank. There was no emotion in his eyes. He would not be my knight in shining armor today.
Falcone turned toward my mother with a shark-like expression. Mother stiffened but she kept her head high. She was a proud woman; one of the things I admired most about her. I worried Falcone might enjoy breaking her. He was that type.
He advanced on Mother, and finally Father sprang into action. âShe doesnât know anything. My family wasnât involved in any of this. They are innocent.â His voice rang with fear and alarm. Seeing his terror, hearing it, terrified me to no end. This wasnât a game.
Talia looked at me for help again. God, and how I wished I knew how to help her, how to help my family, but I was useless.
Falcone stopped right in front of my mother, closer than was socially acceptable. Mother didnât flinch back, though most people would have done that under his stare, and I hoped for the same strength if Falcone confronted me. He reached for her throat and for a crazy moment I thought he was going to strangle her. Father made a move to get up but Falconeâs man pushed him back down.
Falcone curled his fingers around Motherâs necklace. âBut theyâre reaping the rewards of your betrayal, donât they?â
Father shook his head. âI didnât buy that necklace from that moneyâ¦âHe trailed off, a pained expression on his face. That was a guilty plea if Iâd ever heard one. I wanted to cry. Father had really stolen from the mob. That meant his death, and maybe ours as well. Falcone wasnât known for his kindness.
âNo?â Falcone said with fake curiosity. He ripped the necklace off Motherâs throat. She gasped and flinched, one hand flying up to touch her skin. When she pulled her fingers away, they were bloody. The gold chain had cut her.
Then he pointed at Taliaâs earrings. Talia took a step back. âAnd those?â He reached for one earring.
âLeave her alone,â I said before I could stop myself. Father and Mother stared at me as if Iâd lost my mind. Falcone slowly turned to me, eyes narrowing. He stepped back from Talia and came toward me. It took everything to stand my ground when everything I wanted to do was to run as fast as my feet could carry me.
I wasnât wearing any flashy jewelry he could hold against me, or my father, but I knew that wouldnât protect me.
His cruel eyes seemed to pierce me to the very core. I tried not to show my revulsion and fear. I wasnât sure I was succeeding. I had no experience in facing true evil.
âYou are a brave one, arenât you?â Falcone said. I had a feeling it wasnât meant as a compliment. I waited for him to do something to me, to punish me for my insolence, but he merely eyed me before he turned on his heel and walked back to Father. Somehow his leniency worried me. It made me think that maybe he had something worse in mind for me later. This wasnât over.
âI wonder if you actually believed youâd get away with this, Brando?â Falcone asked. He touched Fatherâs shoulder in a mock friendly gesture.
âI always made more money than any of your other managers. Iâll work for free for as long as you want me to. Iâll make it up to you, I swear.â
âYouâll make it up to me?â Falcone repeated. âYou betrayed me. You stole from me and gave my money to the filthy Russians. My enemies. How are you going to make it up to me?â
âIâll do anything,â Father said.
Falcone touched his chin in contemplation. It looked as if heâd practiced the move countless times in front of the mirror. âThere is something you can do for me.â
Father nodded eagerly but I wasnât as optimistic. The look in Falconeâs eyes promised nothing good. Falcone pulled a gun out of a holster under his jacket and held it against Fatherâs head. âYou can die.â
He pulled the trigger.
I cried out, taking a step forward to help my father, so did Mother, but our guards held us back. Talia screamed, a high-pitched sound that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. But Father didnât topple over. He was unharmed. There hadnât been a bullet in the gun. I shook, my emotions changing from shock to relief.
Father closed his eyes for a moment. Then he peered up at Falcone. There was definitely relief in his gaze but also trepidation.
Falcone smirked. âBut first we need to know everything you know about the Russians and everything else that might harm my business, donât you agree?â
Falcone didnât wait for Fatherâs reply, he pointed at Growl. âTalk to him. And make it quick. I have better things to do.â Growl didnât hesitate. He grabbed Father by the arm, hoisted him up and dragged him into the adjoining dining room.
Mother, Talia and I were ushered into a corner and had to wait while listening to Fatherâs muffled cries and moans. Talia pressed her palms against her ears and squeezed her eyes shut. Mother tightened her hold on both of us. I wanted to close my ears off to the sounds of Fatherâs torture but if he had to bear the pain I could at least bear this.
It grew quiet in the adjoining room. Worry gnawed at my insides. What if the silence meant that Father had lost his consciousness? Or worse.
The door creaked open. Mother stiffened. Father was led inside by Growl. He could barely keep himself upright and without the other manâs steely grip Father would have toppled over. Falcone rose from his chair. âAll done?â
Growl gave a nod. He led Father into the center of the room, then let go of him. Father dropped to his knees. Growl blended back into the background as Falcone stepped in front of Father. âYou disappointed me greatly, Brando. Itâs a pity, really. You should have really thought about your family before you decided to screw me over.â
Father coughed, then rasped. âDonâtâ¦donât punish them for myâ¦â
Falcone didnât give him the chance to finish the sentence. He turned his back to my father. âGrowl,â he said.
Growl came forward, waiting for orders. He was going to kill my father, there was no other option.
âYou did good, Growl.â Falconeâs lips pulled wide. âThatâs why I have a gift for you.â
Growl stood still, dripping with blood and sweat, eyes cold and empty, as if there was nothing behind them, a dark emptiness that consumed anything around. I shivered. I didnât remember his gaze being this horrific at the party. Killing and maiming must have brought the monster to the surface.
Father started shaking his head. âYou canât!â
I startled.
Growl barely glanced his way but then his eyes found me, and they didnât move on. God in Heaven, have mercy.