Authors: S.K. Lessly
The name Leonetti was feared by most. However, there were some that wanted to test us. The Capuanos incident with Eddie and that woman was a good example, as well as what happened to them after we learned of their treachery. We solidified our power through our little ‘underground community’ and have no problem doing it again.
I’ve led by example countless times. I was not a pussy who delegated shit to his men because he was afraid to pull the trigger. Fuck no, as you’ve witnessed, I had no problem ending a life. I’d done it a few times; some of the bodies my father knew about and others… Well, let’s just say that he didn’t have a need to know.
I took another sip of the bottle in my hand when I heard the key turning in my lock. I watched my door knowing instantly who it was. When he appeared, his face scowled, I knew this wasn’t a business visit.
I turned back to face my dark television and took another swig.
“If you’re coming to search for her, I can save you the trouble. She’s not here. No, I haven’t seen her, and I don’t know where she is.”
My father didn’t reply. I actually had to look around my apartment to find him because he wasn’t making a sound as he moved either. I found my father at my bar, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. He then came and sat across from me, took a few sips, and then looked at me.
“You don’t know where she is. You expect me to believe that?” he asked me.
I shrugged, but I had no verbal reply.
Pops pulled out his cigar and lighter, sparked and puffed a few times before he said to me. “What’s happening with you?”
I sighed and took another swig as I looked over at him, “Who the fuck knows.”
My father shook his head and chuckled. “Brothers…You two are so much alike.”
I frowned, saying, “Eddie and I are nothing alike.”
My father kept a cold gaze on me and said, “I’m not talking about Eddie. Just because Lincoln didn’t come from my own loins doesn’t mean that I don’t think of him as my son.”
“When he was young, his mother would call me, asking what she needed to do to handle her youngest. She would always say how he was tough to deal with, always fighting, hot-headed. Shit, some of the things Lincoln did as a kid reminded me of how I was at his age. She knew Lincoln was going to become someone they couldn’t handle. I knew her husband hated when she called me, especially when the advice I gave her worked. There was no changing the inevitable; Lincoln was just a different breed. That’s why he ended up the way that he did, and that’s what brought him to my doorstep.”
“So, why did you turn your back on him?”
“I didn’t turn my back on him,” Pops boomed. “I have three sons and one of them fucked up bad. If I can’t show leniency with my own family, how the hell do you justify me showing the same to an outsider?”
Pops took the last of his whiskey and I stood, grabbing his glass to pour him more. When I returned, handing him the glass, he said to me, “You don’t understand my decision, and I’m not here to explain it to you. What I want to know, and what I have been trying to understand for months, is the hatred you have for Eddie.”
I grunted and took the last of the Scotch, “You’d have to go back pretty far to understand where it comes from.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Pops, Eddie and I haven’t been on the level of loving brothers since I was fourteen. That’s how deep the betrayal goes. Now, don’t ask me why he despised me back then. Whatever the reason, that’s when I started thinking I had no brother.”
“
Succede
, Angelo. My brothers and I fought all of the time when we were kids.”
“Yeah, Pops, but when you, Uncle Tony and Uncle Joe had to handle shit in the neighborhood, not once have you ever said you were by yourself or that one of your brothers sought to take you out.”
I let that stay in the air before adding, “I get the whole brotherly squabbles and knocking each other around. But when someone outside of the family threatens your brother, that shit shouldn’t fly.”
“And you’re saying it did? That Eddie didn’t have your back?”
“Pops, I’m saying he’s never had my back. I wouldn’t trust him if he’s standing in front or behind me. I never have. I learned from my mistake once, Pops. I don’t need another lesson.”
“And you think he’s plotting against you?”
Now, here was where I should have told my father everything that was going on. I should have told him about the drugs, the shit with Victor Waters, how Eddie indirectly told me that he was going after the crown and all that. But I wasn’t going to tell my father shit right then. He didn’t do anything when we had proof that Eddie was setting up Lincoln, so nothing would come from me telling him the shit that Eddie was doing now. My father was going to have to see it firsthand.
I said to him, “I don’t know if he is or isn’t, but I’m not going to give him the opportunity to catch me slipping. I don’t have someone out here watching my back anymore, so I have to be extra cautious. I don’t have time to deal with the petty shit, which is why I’ve been going hard. We need that fear evoked back behind our name, Pops. It’s necessary.”
“Yeah, and how are you going to keep the fear in the hearts of everyone and at the same time chase this woman of yours?” Smoke billowed around us as he leaned closer to me. “She’s going to be the death of you if you’re not careful. Your weakness is someone else’s gain.”
“I know!” I replied, trying not to prove my father correct.
“And you have tipped your hand, which is why I said initially that you and Lincoln are alike. The life we lead doesn’t mix with a personal life. Drake had no clue that Georgia would be okay with his lifestyle. We still don’t know since he’s been out of the game, so who’s to say that she will. It is different for you, however. You’re deep in it. How do you think she’s going to respond when she finds out who you are? Knowing that at any point, you could order a hit and kill her father and brother without blinking an eye? How could you live with yourself if she leaves you once she finds out? Hell, could you?”
Damn, that was a good question. I wanted Raquel so much that I didn’t think that maybe her hesitation had to do with who I was in the family. I know she had an idea of what I was capable of, because of her actions at the meeting, but did she understand how far I would go in the name of my family? The rage I felt for her brother the day of the meeting was potent. I could kill him with my bare hands and not lose any sleep. I would get away with it too. Hell, I hadn’t been caught so far, but what if she found out somehow? Would she leave me or turn me in?
I thought of something crucial and asked, “What about mom?”
My father waved me off. “Please, Angelo, you forget your history? Your grandfather was in the game before he died. He ran alongside the Bertucci family, who are still running shit in New York to this day. She knew what to expect. You know your mother is strong-willed and opinionated, but she knew her place. She let me run the family the way I wanted, and I let her run our house the way she wanted. We worked well because she knew her role, she understood. Can you honestly say that Raquel will?”
I didn’t have an answer to that either, so I remained quiet.
He added, “That’s why you need to stick to those that are used to your lifestyle. There’s no second thought with a woman who is from your world. Why don’t you let me set something up?”
Half of me wanted to say, “Yes, hook me up,” but the smarter-half of me screamed, “No!”
I needed to be honest with myself and with my father, so I advised him, “With all due respect, there’s no need. There is no woman out there that would satisfy me. Believe me, I’ve tried to find her. Pops, the only woman that I want and desire is the one insufferable, frustrating, and fucking stubborn as hell woman named Raquel Waters. The same woman that it seems for some reason too many people have been telling me that I can’t have, including her.” I leaned closer to Pops, as I added, “But I’ve tasted the forbidden fruit, Pops, and I want it. It’s all or nothing.”
Shit, where did I put those big girl panties again?
I looked at his building again. More importantly, I looked at the darkened window of his apartment. I knew he was home. Don’t ask how I knew. I just know.
I couldn’t seem to get out of my car. This was the second time that I’d been to his place that day, trying to will myself to go to him.
It had been two days since he and I had that blowout in my office. I didn’t want to seclude myself. I actually hoped that he and I could talk about what was happening between us, but I knew how that conversation would end. He would simply dominate the air around me until I suffocated, relented or fought back. I knew I would also end up giving into him, and I knew he wouldn’t fold for me.
I decided to fall off the grid for a few days. I needed this time to get myself together. I needed to get my head on straight and my strength up so I wouldn’t be blinded by this sexy, hot ass, aggressive Italian or my family. I needed to gain some of my self-control back. I needed to put him and others in their places, and I started with my own family.
I no longer worked for my father. The day I walked out was the day that I quit. I hadn’t verbally spoken or seen my father or my brother, and I knew that they were going half out of their minds. I did respond to one of my father’s emails, just telling him that I was alive, but that was it. He asked where I was and if I was still in Philly. However, I didn’t reply. He and my brother probably thought that I was overreacting or being childish, but I didn’t care what anyone thought. It was all about the principle. My father and brother had tried to run my life since I drew my first breath and my mom took her last. I’d felt for a long time that I was living in the shadows of my mom. They wanted me to be something or someone that I wasn’t. The more they pushed, the more I pushed back.
I wasn’t completely out of a job, though. I actually had one client… Angel.
I know, I know! Stupid and delusional, right? But, I couldn’t help myself. His words had gotten to me that day. He trusted me… Beyond his own blood, he trusted me
.
I couldn’t leave him hanging so I had my calls forwarded from my work phone to my new cell and waited for a message from his assistant Shayla. When she finally called, I thought about telling her right then that I didn’t work for my father anymore. Yet, again, I kept going back to Angel’s words. I sent her the contract, and she gave me the business ventures that Angel was interested in investing. Since then, I’d been working for the interests of the Leonetti Family. I didn’t care where his money was coming from. It wasn’t as if I didn’t know who Angel was or what his family was. That didn’t matter to me. What mattered was his interests. If there were any questionable transactions or businesses a part of the Leonetti’s name, I made sure it didn’t exist anymore. He asked me to handle his money; to invest where I thought would bring him the highest dividends and returns. And that’s what I did. It was important to me that I made sure Angel didn’t regret his words.
So even though I’d been in hiding, I didn’t think it would last this long. I thought the one person who would tear down this city to find me would’ve found me by now. “I won’t be denied,” he’d said. However, he hadn’t come after me.
I will admit, the silence from him bothered me more than anything else. The things that he’d said to me- I belonged to him and I needed to take my rightful place next to him- all of that shit bothered me too. Hell, it down right scared the shit out of me.
I’d finally realized that for a long time, I’d been living in a dream world. I took the blue pill instead of the red pill and started believing in fantasies. Now that I was home, the red pill had been shoved down my throat and the possibility that he and I wouldn’t work started to surface. Angel was dominant, controlling, was capable of anything and had an atrocious temper.
I hated to be controlled. I hated to be handled as if I wasn’t capable of speaking and acting on my own. I didn’t want to be dominated, and I had a helluva temper too. Weren’t those things ingredients for disaster? I didn’t want to make a hasty decision, so I figured maybe he and I could start off as friends. I figured maybe we could get to know each other first, before we claimed one another. That sounded good, right?
Now, all I had to do was tell him.
I can do this.
He was just one of those guys that was good for one thing; to make you lose your mind in fits of passion while calling him a god, and that’s it.
“All right, it’s time to be that grown ass woman you claim to be.”
I grabbed the food that I bought for us and headed to his door. I pushed his buzzer and hoped he wouldn’t ignore me while praying that he was home.
Angel happened to live on the first floor of this three-story warehouse style apartment building. He told me that there were six apartments, two on each floor. The crazy thing about that was that I’d never seen anyone come out of the building, but him. I never heard any neighbors either.
Anyway, I pushed the angry sounding buzzer again and stepped back from the door.
Just when I was about to give up and go home, I heard the buzzer releasing the front door. I opened it quickly feeling as if this would be my last chance to see him. I walked through the door, trying to think of what all I needed to say. Humbly, all of my thoughts died the moment my eyes fell on him. He wasn’t dressed in one of his signature, tailored, dark, expensive suits. He was dressed in a tank style t-shirt and basketball shorts. I fought the urge to lick my lips as I noticed how low his basketball shorts sat on his hips. Okay, mainly it was the impression I saw pushing out of the front of his shorts that I’d noticed. Apparently, he was letting the boys hang free.
Goodness me!
Stay focused.
His hair was slicked back and damp, revealing to me a very sexy, very attractive, and a very pissed off man. I blinked a few times, unable to move from the doorway of the building.
I couldn’t play off my attraction for him for all the money in the world. I knew he could see it in my eyes. I knew he could feel the heat between us because I felt it too.
I also felt how pissed he was at me. He just stood in front of his door watching me. I tried to smile at him. Hell, I even thought about telling a few jokes to lighten the mood, but as his gray eyes grew darker, I knew I was two seconds from being sent home.
“Hey,” I said and smiled. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“Why are you here?” he asked dryly.
I shifted under his scrutiny. “I brought you dinner.”
“That’s it? You brought me dinner?” he questioned, his frown seemingly permanent on his face.
“No, but if you let me in, we can talk about the other stuff.”
It seemed he wasn’t budging so I moved closer to him. “Look our dinner is getting cold, and you know how you hate cold Chinese. Please let me in so we can eat, and I promise we can talk after.”
After what felt like forever, he shifted over, giving me room to enter, and I quickly moved past him. When I walked inside, I headed straight for his kitchen, trying my best to ignore the jazz coming from his stereo and the candles and lighting that made this space quite cozy and romantic.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” I called back to him.
Is he expecting someone else? Goodness, I hope not!
I needed a distraction to stay focused on my plan and not on the ideas that were popping into my head. I shook my head, trying to focus again.
Angel’s apartment fit him to the tee. It was a bachelor pad. It was a loft style setup with a bit of uniqueness. It was a huge space that he transitioned to fit his personality and likes. It was quite genius how this space was decorated, so I knew he had help. No way had he done this on his own. What I didn’t want to know or think about was who had helped him.
When you walked into his apartment, you come to a space in the loft he’d deemed as his living room area. He had a dark gray leather couch that reclined on both ends and was hella comfortable. There was a matching loveseat and a seventy-inch flat screen television attached to a TV console. He had a beautiful coffee table and end tables and a soft area rug that completed the space.
There were four floor-to-ceiling windows that had long thick black floor to ceiling style drapes covering them.
He had a bar that separated the living area from the dining area. A study looking oak table and four matching chairs occupied the dining room and French Doors that opened to a decent view of the Delaware River and parts of New Jersey.
The loft had two bedrooms and two bathrooms that were separated by a very nice galley kitchen. The kitchen was a simple galley kitchen with granite countertops and stainless steel appliances. What he had built, adding charm to the space, was a rather large island, giving him additional counter space, storage, and seating. Now, if you are facing the kitchen, with the living and dining room behind you, to the left was a hallway. Typically, a loft apartment had an open floorplan. Angel, of course, was different. He told me he wanted to make this place functioning to fit his needs. The hallway took you to a small bathroom with a standup shower, sink, and toilet. Further down the hall was a room that he used as his gym.
To the right of the kitchen was his bedroom that was as open as the rest of his place, go figure. He had a poster king sized bed and to the left of the bed were two rooms, a large walk-in closet, to house all of his many tailored suits, and a huge bathroom.
The bathroom had large black and white slate tile that made the bathroom modern, yet classy at the same time. And his tub…Woo-wee! I wished I could live in it. It was a huge garden style jetted tub. The stand-up shower was large enough to fit two people; trust me, I know. The shower walls were created using the same type of slate tiles along the floor of the bathroom, only smaller with decorative glass splash tiles intermittently around the shower wall. Granite countertops and nickel facets added to the modern style of the room.
He had various plants sitting around, some paintings hanging on the walls, and other décor items that made the space inviting. It didn’t change the fact that it still was a bachelor pad.
Angel came to the island and sat down as I started pulling out the Chinese food.
I wanted to focus on why I was there and not how good he looked in his wife beater or how my eyes keep traveling to the front of his shorts. Damn. And oh how hard it was not to focus on the memories of how good his arms felt when he wrapped those arms around me and when he used them to hold me up as he…
Concentrate, girl.
“I tried to remember what you liked. I got a little of everything. Beef and Broccoli, fried rice, Lo Mein, Shrimp fried rice.”
“Egg rolls?” he asked.
“Yup, I have them too.”
I moved around his kitchen with familiarity and grabbed plates, realizing instantly how comfortable I felt; like I was home, which made me frown.
I placed a plate and the containers of food in front of his smirking ass, saying, “There you go.”
There was no way in hell I was going to make his plate too.
He laughed though, which I hoped was a good sign, and started spooning food on his plate.
As we ate, our conversation was light. He asked me about San Francisco, and I asked him about his vision for his investments. He seemed surprised that I was still working for him. I was sure that he figured since we argued, I wouldn’t help him. I didn’t want to go into detail about why I decided to do it. Instead, I told him what I had been doing for his interests. I explained the research needed to make sound decisions on his investments. He seemed impressed and started animatedly talking to me about his vision and not about my rightful place, which I was thankful for.
After we had eaten our food, we relaxed on the couch, both on our respective cushions, listening to instrumental jazz, sipping on our fourth bottle of wine. I watched, amazed, as he smoked a cigar, something I didn’t have a clue he did.
I was starting to relax. This was going better than I’d expected. I felt good about telling him that we should start out just being friends. Yup, things were going great… Right up until he asked, “Why did you leave California?”
I sat there quiet for a moment, hoping I could ignore the question. When I looked over at him, I realized it wasn’t going to work.
I sighed and gave him my safe answer. “My dad and brother called begging me to come home. They said the company was in peril. I found out once I got here that the only thing in ‘peril’ was them.”
“Bullshit,” Angel countered.
“Why is that bullshit?” I quipped.
“Please, Raquel, you were losing your mind being up under them. You couldn’t wait to leave. Now you’re trying to tell me that all it took was for them to ask you to come home and you were on the next thing smoking? I don’t buy that. So tell me what
really
happened?”
Irritated that things were now heading south, I got up from the couch and went to his bar. It seemed the night had shifted. I needed something stronger to drink. I grabbed the vodka and poured it into my wine glass.
“I saw you with him,” I heard him say behind me.
I frowned confused, “You saw me with who?”
I added pineapple juice to the vodka that I’d also found on the bar. Then I turned to face him. I stayed where I was, feeling that I needed to keep space between us.