Honor (Made Book 1) Page 3

  “And you think they will just let me in, no questions asked?” I shook my head, an amused smile twitching on my lips. “You’re crazy.”

  “You have the connections. Your uncle, your father can both vouch for you,” Maxwell interjected.

  “My father is in prison. Or did you forget that you put him there?” I snapped, pinning him with my glare as every one of my muscles tensed.

  “Mario,” Eric warned from beside me.

  Dropping my arms, I clenched and unclenched my fist under the table. I knew my father belonged there. I knew it was his own doing but at the end of the day, he was still my father, the man I had looked up to and idolized as a small boy.

  “I told you this was a mistake,” Agent Rhodes huffed to her partner. Pressing her palms flat against the table, she pushed to a stand. She reached for the photos, hurriedly tucking them safely back into her file.

  “Wait,” I growled through my teeth.

  She halted and all eyes darted to me.

  “If I do this, what do I get in return?”

  “Is protecting your city and serving your country not enough?” she smarted-off with a sarcastic smile.

  “I’ve done that. Former marine, remember?” I leaned forward, folding my arms on the table, locking my eyes with Agent Rhodes while trying to ease the anger in my voice. “Except this isn’t the same thing, is it? You’re asking me to put more than just my life on the line here.”

  She lowered back into her seat, considering my words. “What do you want?”

  “Protection. For my family and me. A guarantee that whatever I’m required to do to play this part and become your informant, will not be held against me. This won’t be easy. I’ll be expected to prove my loyalty. I want your word that I’ll walk away from this a free man, with my clean record still intact.”

  “Of course,” Maxwell agreed. “But we prefer you not kill anyone.”

  I scoffed a humorless laugh. “If that were remotely possible, you’d be sending one of your own in, not me.”

  “Is that it?” Rhodes sighed her annoyance.

  “No. Lena Moretti. She’s not a part of this. If anything happens to me, I want your promise you will get her away from them and to a safe house with a new identity. I want her protected the same as my mother and sister.”

  “We will do what we can,” she said flippantly.

  “No. I want your promise. This is not an optional request. If you can’t guarantee this, then I walk out of here and you find someone else. My family and Lena are to be protected from harm.”

  Rhodes exchanged a look with Maxwell, a wordless conversation passing between them before they turned back to me. With a slight nod, she conceded, “We promise.”

  I slid my hands into the front pockets of my black slacks, silently watching the tiny specks of New Yorkers below on the sidewalk move like determined ants. Eric opened the decanter of whiskey behind me that he kept in his office. After filling a couple glasses with a two-finger pour, he joined me at my side, passing me one of the drinks. We both took a sip, remaining lost in our own thoughts as we stared at the city skyline.

  “She had a ring on her finger,” he finally broke the silence, speaking my thoughts out loud.

  “I saw.”

  “Does that change things for you?”

  He waited patiently for my answer. My mind raced as I gazed down at the streets below, standing at the metaphorical edge of a high dive.

  Touching the rim of the glass to my lips, I swallowed the last of the amber liquid in one gulp. The truth: I’d already jumped and was free falling toward the deep end. Lowering the empty glass to my side, I shook my head with a stoic expression. “No.”

  In my peripheral, I saw his head turn my direction. I felt his sharp stare on my profile for a few silent moments before he polished off his whiskey, then casually clapped my back. “Go home. Get your head straight,” he commanded before walking away, leaving me alone in his office.

  I didn’t respond, didn’t move. All I could do was think about that picture, the look in her eyes as he touched her, and the ring on her finger that no doubt he’d given her.

  I was too late.

  She was engaged.

  Fuck.

  I knew it was going to happen. I thought there’d be more time before it did, though.

  I pulled my cell out of my pocket, scrolled to the name I needed, and pushed the button to place the call. There were three rings before the call was picked up and answered with nothing but silent breathing.

  “We need to talk. Meet me at my place,” I ordered before quickly ending the call without a confirmation.

  Dropping my phone back in my pocket, I took a deep breath and ran a hand over the top of my head to the tension in the back of my neck, hoping I hadn’t just made a mistake. The moment for second guessing had passed.

  Knowing it was too late and refusing to dwell on it any longer, I spun on my heels and left.

  “One, two…” I counted loudly while trying to listen to the direction feet pounded down the pavement away from me. “…three, four, five…” I peeked through the crack in my fingers when I heard their giddy laughter fading in the distance. I watched as best I could without being caught cheating, my eyes scanning until I saw the long, dark ponytail disappear around the corner into an alley. “…eight, nine, ten!” I dropped the hand that had been covering my eyes. “Ready or not, here I come!” I yelled through cupped hands down the street that was now vacant of all my neighborhood friends.

  I didn’t care where any of them had run off to. There was only one person I was in search of. I took off in a sprint in the direction I saw her disappear, turning the corner into the narrow alley behind my family’s restaurant.

  I slowed my pace, keeping my steps soft as my eyes scanned the area. Her pretty head peeked out from behind one of the overfilled, smelly dumpsters and then quickly popped back out of view.

  My smile widened. “Found you, Moretti!” I hollered, charging toward where I knew she was hiding.

  She stepped out from behind the dumpster, hands on her hips, nostrils flaring. “Not fair! You cheated, Mario!” She stamped her right foot, her face pinched in frustration.

  With a toothy grin, I shook my head in denial, only feeling a little guilty about the cheating and lying. “Quit being a baby, Lena.” I pulled at her pony tail, treating her like an annoying little sister.

  “Ugh,” she growled, starting to push past me.

  The rear metal door of our restaurant slammed open, echoing off the towering brick walls. A man’s loud pleading poured out, followed by his limp body stumbling and falling onto the black asphalt a few yards from us. He crawled on his knees, oblivious to our presence, trying to scramble to his feet when another man appeared in the doorway and kicked him hard in the ribs.

  Lena froze, her lips falling open, ready to scream. Instinctively, I moved quick, covering her mouth, pulling her flush against me, and back to where she’d been hiding earlier. Her trembling body squirmed in my hold. I tightened my grip around her, struggling to keep her quiet and from running. It was too late to run. We’d already seen too much.

  “Please, please, it wasn’t me. I’d never...You gotta believe me, Leoni.”

  I froze at the sound of my last name, my body stiffening while Lena still fought to escape.

  “Even if I did believe you, Frankie, you know it’s not my call. The boss gave orders.”

  Hearing my dad’s voice caused me to unintentionally loosen my hold. She turned to look at me, her eyes confused, the fear in them fading. I shook my head, putting my finger to my lips, knowing it still wasn’t safe.

  I was only nine, but I wasn’t a naive nine-year-old, unaware of the things my father did. I’d known for a few years now our family’s restaurant wasn’t what kept the roof over our heads. It was what kept my mother happy and what kept the police at bay. With my eyes locked on Lena’s, I pleaded with her to stay quiet. She gave me a shaky nod while I scooted around her to look, despite knowin
g better.

  “I have a family,” the man, Frankie, pleaded again. He held an arm over his fat midsection while wiping blood from the corner of his lip using the back of his other hand as he looked up at my father.

  My father slowly lowered to a squatting position, putting himself eye level with Frankie, whose back was now slumped against the brick wall. His eyes narrowed as he moved his face inches from Frankie’s. His fist tightened against the brass knuckles he wore. “We are your family,” he growled. “And you betrayed us.”

  “I didn’t have a choice. They threatened—”

  His words were cut off with my father’s metal fist.

  Lena whimpered a strangled cry beside me, and I flung my hand back to her mouth, her eyes wild with fear once again. I ducked out of view just as my father’s head turned our direction. My senses heightened with my own fear. The sound of cracking bone and the smell of spoiled trash mixed with the metallic scent of blood pushed the vomit in my stomach upward. I swallowed it down, holding my breath with my eyes squeezed shut, my whole body rigid.

  Lena quietly fell apart beside me. The sound of a car engine nearing pulled at my curiosity. Saying a silent prayer, I counted to five, then slowly peeked back out. My father stood upright as a black sedan rolled to a stop, blocking the only escape.

  Snapping my head back behind the dumpster, I held my breath again and looked at Lena. Silent tears streamed down her porcelain cheeks onto her trembling hands, where she covered her own mouth, sitting inches away from what were likely dried puddles of vomit. I reached for her right hand, pulling it into my lap, tightly intertwining our pinkies when I heard the car doors open and slam, followed by footsteps falling steadily onto the pavement. I didn’t need to look to know who they belonged to. I recognized the car as soon as I saw it.

  I kept my eyes locked with Lena’s, mostly to try to comfort her, but also to assess her reaction. I’d learned early I had a knack for reading people, knowing their truths, or parts of them, just by looking them in the eye. And the moment we heard her father’s voice, I knew her truth.

  She had no idea what her father did or who he really was when he wasn’t playing the doting father. She had no idea that he, Matteo Moretti, was not just one of the five bosses of New York City, but one of the most feared, making him the most powerful.

  I dragged her back into my arms, hugging her close to my chest, a silent promise that I’d keep her safe, wishing I could change what was about to happen—the loss of her innocence and trust. I knew without a doubt what we were about to unintentionally witness was going to be a vivid memory for the both of us, one that would bond us together for the rest of our lives.

  I lowered the volume of the baseball game playing on my TV when I heard the knock on my door. After a quick glance through the peep hole, I unlocked and opened it.

  Eyeing the man standing before me, I cracked a smile. “How you been, Zio?”

  “Better than your ugly ass,” my Uncle Manny teased before pulling me in for a hug and patting my back. He pulled away and I stepped aside as he strode in, glancing around my tiny apartment that was still littered with half-empty boxes. “It’s good to see you. I was surprised to get your call. Last I heard, you moved to the West Coast for that big fancy job of yours.”

  “Yeah, didn’t go the way I planned.” I hefted a shoulder, closing the door before turning to face him.

  He took a seat on the edge of my couch, resting his forearms on his knees as he took me in.

  “Can I get you a drink?” I asked, with a quick glance at the fridge. I didn’t have much to offer other than a six-pack of beer.

  “Nah, I’m good.”

  I took a seat on the recliner, preparing myself for the next part of our conversation.

  “What’s going on, kid?” he asked, giving me no time. Neither of us were much for small talk.

  I cleared my throat and rubbed at the back of my neck before meeting his gaze. “I need a favor.”

  “A favor?” His brow furrowed, the wrinkles deepening, drawing attention to the scars on his rough face.

  “I want in.”

  He whistled low, leaning back into the couch. “That’s not a favor. That’s a death sentence…Your pops know?”

  I shook my head. I hadn’t spoken to my father in nearly eleven years. I was eighteen the last time I paid him a visit, the day after my graduation. It was the day I told him I was going into the military. It was also the day he told me he was proud of me and to never come see him again. The words had hurt, but a part of me understood. He wanted me as far away from his shit as possible.

  “What about your ma?”

  “No. And I prefer you keep this between us.”

  “You sure about this, Mario? This isn’t the life he wanted for you. And your mother, you know it’ll break her heart.”

  No. I wasn’t completely sure anymore. But it was the only way. He took my silence as my answer.

  “All right, kid. I’ll make some calls, set up a meeting. But they’re going to have questions. I have a few of my own. You better be able to answer them.”

  I nodded. “Understood.”

  “I think I’ll take that drink after all. Looks like we have a lot to discuss.”

  I forced a smile and stood to grab us both a beer. Lying and convincing my uncle that I wanted to crossover to the other side wasn’t going to be easy. I’d never shown any interest before and had always chosen to walk the straight line when it came to my own life. If I could pull this off, convincing the rest of the Moretti family would be that much easier.

  4

  Lena

  Squeezing the excess water from my damp hair, I gazed through the fading steam on the bathroom mirror, barely recognizing my own reflection. I’d lost everything in the last few months. Hope. Faith. And my freedom.

  The woman who stared back at me was not the same woman I’d fought hard to hold on to over the years. She was nothing but the shell of my former self.

  “Going somewhere?”

  Startled at the sound of his voice, I spun my head to look at where he stood leaning against the doorframe of my bathroom with a sadistic smile. Pulling my silk robe tighter across my naked body, I glared at Lorenzo as his eyes raked up and down my figure. “What are you doing here?”

  “I had a meeting with your father.” He stood upright, pushing the flap of his suit jacket, casually sliding a hand into his front pant pocket, unapologetic.

  “That’s not what I meant,” I grated.

  He took a step closer to me. My spine stiffened with my narrowed eyes.

  “I wanted to see you.” His smile grew as he reached for me. I took a step back, avoiding his touch.

  There was no need for me to play nice when it was just the two of us. I’d made my feelings clear many times before. “You’re not welcome here.”

  “On the contrary,” he said, his jaw clenching with annoyance. "Your father has given me free reign,” he retorted.

  “Maybe. But I haven’t. And I doubt he was including my bedroom.” I turned away from him, picking up my facial moisturizer.

  My father was many things—a monster with a corrupt moral compass—but allowing a man to have his only daughter before marriage, especially in his home, was not something he’d condone.

  “You’ll knock if you’d like to enter, and even then, only if I invite you.” I kept my eyes ahead as I applied the lotion to my skin.

  He pressed behind me, gripping the counter at each side of me. The heat of his breath brushed across the side of my neck. Ice-cold fear coursed through my veins like venom, freezing my movements. He may have been an attractive man, but I knew the darkness lying below the handsome exterior. He was not a man I would ever love.

  “Soon, mi cara,” he rasped against my ear, causing the tiny hairs on my neck to stand, “it will be our room and I’ll do as I damn well please.”

  I held his stare through the mirror, refusing to tremble at his nearness or reveal the fear I’d constantly felt since my father an
nounced I’d be marrying him.

  Lorenzo’s wry grin returned. He was baiting me, always pushing me, hoping I’d snap and lose my cool. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Showing any emotion was a weakness he’d prey on.

  “Until then, get out,” I ordered impassively, returning to applying the cream to my forehead.

  Giving me one final satisfied glance, he pushed off the counter and left the room. I didn’t release the breath I held until I heard the bedroom door slam shut. Clinging to the counter edge, I lowered to my knees, allowing myself that moment of weakness as the tears fell, wishing once again I’d been born into a different family. One where my fate and the man I was to marry hadn’t been predetermined for me.

  Sliding the strap of my purse over my shoulder, I left my room. My heels clicked against the black granite tile as I hurried past my father’s office.

  “Lena?”

  I halted, closing my eyes for a moment as I took a breath and a step back before turning to face my father. “Yes, Papa?” I asked, stalling in the opening.

  “Come in. We need to talk.” He tossed the papers he’d been looking at to the coffee table, patting the seat next to him on his couch.

  I entered his office, then slowly lowered myself beside him.

  “Lorenzo didn’t seem happy when he left here.”

  Unable to meet his gaze, I stared at the mantle in front of us and the large family photo that hung above it—my father, mother, and me when I was three years old and still blissfully unaware of the darker secrets of my family. The smile I’d worn then had been genuine, unlike the smiles I plastered on now to appease my father.

  “Lena—” He palmed my cheek, forcing me to look at him. I’d trained myself many years ago not to flinch from his touch, even though I could hardly stand it. “You have to stop this nonsense. You’re not a child anymore.”