Stephan

After an angry phone call from Nino, he picked me up at the restaurant where I’d fucked Isabella one last time before she went home. I got in the car, and he peeled out, the tires screeching as we left.

“Do you know how much I hate lying to Alessio and Dad so you can hang out in Westchester with Isabella?” Nino clutched the steering wheel, grinding his teeth together.

He was pissed that I refused to stay away from Isabella. My brother had every right to be mad when I’d asked him to cover for me. But I would have done the same for him, and he knew it. Our bond was unbreakable, something no one could touch.

“We have to do a favor for the Senator,” he told me.

“What now? I’m getting sick of cleaning up after him.”

“Me, too.” He turned onto the highway and punched the gas pedal, zipping past the cars in the middle lane. “I almost got clipped by Carmine over whatever beef Dad has with Rizzoli. Dad is helping Parisi. That’s what pisses me off.”

“I don’t get it.” I shook my head, annoyed. “We have to do all the heavy lifting while that asshole sits behind a desk and orders us around.”

“More like he orders Dad around.”

“Same difference,” I shot back. “We’re the ones who are handling shit on our end, and without even knowing why we’re doing it for him.”

“He’s got something on the old man.”

“Yeah, I know. But what?”

“I wish I knew, then maybe we could do something to stop him.”

“He has a lot of connections and friends in high places. He keeps the Feds off our backs as long as we help him out, but there has to be more to it than that.”

Neither of us ever asked questions. We did what we were told, followed orders, and executed them without as much as a word. But once I became involved with Isabella, I wanted to know why our father’s fought so hard to keep us apart, when all we wanted was to be together.

I rested my elbow on the center console and stared out the window. “Where are we going?”

“You know Mark Parisi has a major drug problem, right?”

I nodded. “Everyone knows that.”

“He’s on a bender. It’s worse this time than before. The Senator tracked his cell phone to a house in Williamsburg. Dad wants us to bring him home.”

I sighed and raised my arms above my head to stretch. “Great. So, now we get to drive to Brooklyn to babysit a spoiled rich kid who can’t handle his load?”

He switched lanes, his eyes fixed on the road. “If this keeps us out of jail, then who cares?”

Over the years, we’d become fixers for a lot of people. We had enough reach and power to push our weight around and get things done. Small favors, like this one, were part of the normal exchange between my father and his business associates.

Once we were in Brooklyn, Nino parked out front what appeared to be an abandoned house and turned off the engine.

He eyed up the place, suspiciously. “This looks kinda sketchy.”

I nodded in agreement. “Let’s get this over with.”

Once inside the dilapidated house, I almost vomited from the overwhelming stench. I thought the room in the warehouse where we killed people had a sickening smell, but it was nothing compared to the mixture of rotting food, cigarette smoke, and unwashed bodies. Some of the druggies laid on the torn, stained shag carpet, while others were either passed out on mattresses or fucking on them. The sight was appalling.

For a while, Nino was getting mixed up with some of our dealers and doing stupid shit. But I pulled him back, forced him to get his head in the game. Having any weakness in our business was a liability, and being high on drugs would have been a sure fire way to guarantee Nino would have ended up at the bottom of the Hudson River.

I walked next to Nino through the dark house wondering why someone like Mark would come here. A man in his late twenties tried to grab my foot. I kicked him away from me with the tip of my dress shoe. My jaw clenched, still pissed I had to leave Isabella to clean up after her brother.

Nino stopped first, his hand held out in front of me to block my path. “That’s him.” He nodded at a man who was so wasted and dead to the word that his eyes were rolling in the back of his head.

I squinted to get a better look, unsure if he was Mark, and glanced at Nino. “Are you sure?”

Mark’s track pants and T-shirt were covered in dirt, his lip busted as if someone had punched him in the face.

I crouched down in front of Mark and attempted to lift him over my shoulder. Moving a drug addict was no different than lifting a dead body. I wasn’t even sure if he was still alive until I felt his chest move. One of his eyes was open, the other lolled into the back of his head.

I looked up at my brother. “Can you give me a hand? He weighs a ton.”

With Nino’s help, I was able to drag Mark outside. We threw him into the back seat and got in the car. In silence, we drove until we reached the gates of the Parisi estate. Nino entered the passcode into the keypad, and the gates opened inward to allow us to drive onto the property.

“A doctor is supposed to meet us in the pool house,” Nino muttered.

“We don’t have to stick around, do we?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Dad said to drop him off and leave him with the doctor.”

Instead of steering to the left to continue to the main house, we followed the path to the right that led to a pool large enough to entertain guests at a hotel. Farther back, there were residency quarters for the servants along with an oversize bungalow where we were headed.

My family had money, but not the kind of old money that passed through the Parisi family. Generations of politicians, Wall Street bankers, doctors, lawyers, and technology moguls at some point lived in this house. It had been in Isabella’s family for over one hundred years, though from the outside it didn’t show a bit of its age.

A plump man with glasses, dressed in a dark suit fit snug to his thick frame, greeted us outside. “Do you need help carrying him inside?”

“No, we’re okay,” Nino said.

We didn’t exchange names, as was customary in our line of work. He was a concierge doctor on the Parisi payroll to assist in times like this.

Mark had started using drugs back in high school. He was never like Isabella, always a giant fuck-up, even though she thought she was the family disappointment. This wasn’t the first time we’d hauled Mark’s ass out of a crack house or had to teach a supplier a lesson for dealing to him. His drug of choice was cocaine until my father had him cut off.

No one was allowed to sell him as much as a pinch of powder without my father’s approval. He controlled most of the drug trade in New York, and what he didn’t control was handled by one of his associates. Apparently, Mark had resorted to harsher drugs like heroin. He had the track marks on his arms to prove it.

I hauled Mark over my shoulder and shut the car door. Nino was at my side, throwing Mark’s arm across the back of his neck, helping me drag him to the pool house. Once inside, I was in awe of the sheer size of the space. Couches were at the center of the living room, the white fabric so pristine they looked as though they’d never been sat on. An oversized bar occupied most of the wall on the right side of the room, opposite the kitchen.

We passed through the small dining area and followed the doctor into a bedroom with a large master bathroom. In all the years I’d helped the Parisis, I had never been inside the house, never saw where Isabella slept. Now I was here, I was somewhat curious. The pool house was bigger than most people’s homes, and yet it didn’t even compare to the villa that spanned most of the property.

“On the bed?” I asked the doctor.

“In the bathroom, please.”

A tub was already filled and waiting for us. The doctor stood in front of Mark, pulling off his shirt and pushing down the track pants over his thighs. Mark groaned and laid his head on Nino’s shoulder. I hoped he wasn’t about to puke on him.

Leaving Mark in his boxers, we set him in the tub. This was by far one of the worst jobs our father had ever asked of us. We could have made much better use of our time. Was this payback for seeing Isabella behind his back? He knew everything, and so I was almost positive my dad knew I was with Isabella.

“Thank you, gentlemen,” the doctor said to us before we left the bathroom.

We exited the house and made a beeline toward the car. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw a shadow move. I strained to get a better look, positive I was hallucinating.

Nino tapped me on the shoulder to gain my attention. “Wanna grab a few beers at Cowgirls?”

Alessio spent most of his time at the strip club our father owned. He used it as his headquarters for our crew. Tonight, we were supposed to be free, which was why I’d asked Isabella to meet me for dinner. The last thing I wanted to do was hang out with Alessio on my night off, but Nino was eager for us to go.

I shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

I was about to get in the car when the shadow moved again, and this time, Robert Parisi stepped into the light. He had dark hair with some silver in it, his jawline strong and serious, with a bit of stubble. One look from this man pierced right through you. It was as if he didn’t have a soul or a care in the world other than the imaginary crown rested atop of his overprivileged head.

Robert raised his hand and held up two fingers, beckoning me to come forward.

I was surprised he could tell Nino and me apart. Most people had trouble when they didn’t know us.

When I approached him, Robert stuffed a stack of hundred dollar bills in my hand. I tried to return them, but he refused, taking a few steps back from me.

“How much will it take for you to stop seeing my daughter?”

I turned away from him and sighed. It was only a matter of time before we had this conversation. Why was I even surprised?

“Is this how you get rid of anyone who talks to Isabella?”

“You’re not just talking. Don’t think for one second I don’t know what goes on with my daughter. She will marry into the Vos family, and you will not get in the way.”

Moving my hands to my hips, I pushed up my jacket enough to reveal the gun at my waist. The Senator’s eyes fell to the gun for a second, his jaw clenched. “I don’t take kindly to threats, boy. Keep your distance from Isabella, or you and your family will pay the price.”

“And what is that?”

“Do you like your freedom?” His eyes were so dark and cold, his tone even colder. “Would you like to have it taken away from you?”

My jaw flexed in anger, my hands balled into fists at my sides. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m a very powerful man. You might not know what I’m capable of firsthand, but your father does. I won’t repeat my warning. Stay away from Isabella.”

Without another word, he turned his back to me and stomped off toward the house. I considered sinking a bullet into the back of his entitled skull but thought better of it. There would come a time when Senator Parisi would have to answer for his sins. And I planned to make him suffer for them.