Chapter One
Jack
All those years. I’d vowed to find my parents’ killer before either one of us had died. I had no idea who it was, or where I would even find them. But I’d promised myself I would find them, and kill them.
They’d been shot, murdered in our home, which was then burnt to the ground. I was taken from the house that night, by a man I couldn’t see properly. I fainted from sheer fright and the horror of it all. When I woke up, I was in an orphanage downtown, with some police telling me how sorry they were about the whole damn thing. Nobody saw, or knew anything. All the evidence was destroyed in the fire. How terribly convenient.
Years passed, and I was taken from the orphanage; not adopted, but chosen as part of an orphan outreach program that was run by a wealthy business owner. I was to be enrolled in military school, all expenses paid, and with a sizeable trust fund at the end of it. If I graduated with honors.
The war had interrupted my final year of college. I was deployed and certainly performed my duty above and beyond what any man or woman would be expected to do. Part way through my second tour, I was recalled for a meeting with Don Leone, the mysterious businessman who was, until then, my silent benefactor.
Turns out he’d been banking on me to succeed him, especially since he’d had no children, at least not at that stage of his planning. But then, after a time, he’d had twins. Mikey and Mia. It was Mikey who was next in line to the Leone dynasty. And it was turning out to be a joke.
Fast forward a few more years to see the real picture. Mikey is a total fuckup, proving more of a liability every day that he draws breath. And Leone is still without an heir.
Mia has established Mia Bella, a multi-national fashion brand, and she’s a highly successful and legitimate businesswoman. But, she’s a woman. Not cool for business in this kinda work. Leone needs a male heir to carry on the family business. And so, once again, I was brought back from military service to work for Don Leone. This time as head of his personal security and as his right-hand man.
In the same day, I realized I had feelings for the daughter, Mia, and Don Leone had just told me himself, that it was he who murdered my parents. And… it wasn’t even six o’clock yet.
I held my full weight down on the pillow as Don Leone began to struggle. He had plenty of fight left in him. His hands clawed at my arms, but it was like watching spaghetti cooking; all firm then gradually soft. Just as I felt him starting to yield without any air, I heard my cell phone pulsing. I’d put it on the cabinet next to the bed.
It was Mia.
Fuck.
I’m in the process of suffocating my boss, the mob boss, and his fucking daughter is calling me. It was that kind of a day though. Earlier that same day, I’d whacked his lawyer, and the son of the Leone’s archrival family, the Bernardi’s.
I don’t think I’d had a kill rate that high since my army days. But when it rains, it pours. What am I doing anyway? I really didn’t think this through at all, did I? All because he told me he murdered my parents when I was a little boy? He wasn’t struggling as much. I loosened the pillow and took the call.
“Mia? Err… Ms. Leone!” I stammered, wondering why she would call me directly; all the while keeping one eye on the Don, who had snatched the pillow from his face and was gasping for air and looking for a little less purple in his life. His eyes narrowed once he heard me on the phone to his daughter, Mia.
“Jack! I mean, Mr. Sloane! What’s that noise? Are you driving? I can’t call back; I need to speak with you urgently.” She sounded wound up alright. For someone who’d slapped me right in the face earlier that day, and having already spoken to her. Actually, in all truth, she really was the last person I expected to hear from.
“Uh. Yeah. Sure. What’s up? I’m a little tied up right now, but if it…”
“It’s my father. I need you to go check on him, right fucking now! Something’s wrong, I can feel it!”
I had a sudden jolt of adrenalin rushing through me. Could she see me? How would she know what was going on? I thought this was one of the few areas of the house which had no surveillance.
Shit and fuck.
My mind raced in that split second, calculating every possibility. I had to play it safe, at least until I knew what would happen next. I had, after all, just tried to suffocate the man. I looked at Don Leone, and he was taking deep breaths, fumbling for some medications from his nightstand.
“I’m actually with your father right now, Mia!” I exclaimed.
What the fuck are you doing Slade?
“He’s just woken up… would you like to speak with him?” Don Leone looked as surprised as Mia sounded, she was stifling a squeal of delight, and I heard her collecting herself on the other end of the line.
“Perfect. Yes, I’ll speak to him now.” And then, with a little tenderness, she said, “Thank you, Jack.”
I held the phone out to Don Leone, who was crunching on some tablets with his front teeth. He was fuming, looking like he wanted to put a pillow over my head, then a gun in my mouth. But he was thinking, like me. We were both trying to figure out who would make the next move, and which one was the best to make, if any.
He swallowed his pills with a little water from his nightstand, and then he coughed and cleared his throat, never taking his eyes off me; then he took the phone. His darling Mia.
I went to leave the room, but a single tiny movement from Don Leone commanded me to stay, to sit in the chair by the bed. And so I sat down, put my hands flat on my legs, and pretended to study the curtains behind Don Leone’s bed as he spoke to his daughter for several minutes. As far as I could tell, he wasn’t giving anything away. My mind was reeling from what’d just happened.
Don Leone? All this time, he’s the one who killed my parents. I was definitely in shock, but had to stay focused.
This guy was Don Leone for Christ’s sake, having somebody put a pillow over his face wasn’t a very big deal. If I’d poisoned him, or shot him in the face, he might have had some more respect. But at that moment, as he spoke with his daughter, he looked at me with increasing disappointment. I didn’t want to be the next guy in a pond, next to the two guys I’d despatched just a few hours earlier.
I wanted to kill Leone for what he’d done, out of principle if nothing else. But another part of me was indebted to him for making my life what it was, making me who I was. He was more than a father to me, he was a mentor and someone I knew had my back. At least, I thought he did. On a more practical level, this was the guy who controlled all the money, still. I had a fair amount of power, running his personal security and doing jobs for him, but at the end of the day, he still signed the checks, or rather, his daughter Mia did. Her secretaries and lawyers did anyway.
No way out of it, even if I killed this guy, my life would change in an instant; and not for the better. I’d have revenge, sure, but I probably wouldn’t make it out of the house in one piece.
I waited for them to finish talking. It sounded like Mia had another call, and busy as ever, she took it. But only once she’d been assured that her Papa was safe, and that all was good in the world again.
It was weird, Don Leone handed me back my phone. He looked me over, from head to toe with his narrowed eyes, which shone like marbles in the dim light of the room.
I was waiting for him to say something. About a minute passed, there was an eerie silence, with just him and me staring at one another. Then, he smiled. He beamed. He started to giggle, then he shook with laughter. A moment later, he was booming with hearty laughter as he shook, turning a little purple again. Okay, maybe I left the pillow on too long. This guy’s lost his mind. He continued to laugh, pointing at me, gasping and laughing some more until he gradually regained some control over himself.
“You!” he exclaimed, still pointing, then shaking his finger at me. “You son of a bitch!” I wasn’t sure what he was playing at, but I felt uneasy. Maybe I should’ve shot him, after all? I opened my mouth to say something, but the hand was up again. I’d had my turn, now I had to listen and take what was coming to me, like a man.
Don Leone’s eyes were still watery, but he’d stopped laughing, thankfully. His face had grown serious again. It was his business face. He motioned to his huge desk on the other side of the room, past all the medical equipment.
“Get us some cigars,” he ordered me, “I need to smoke.”
He sat himself up in the bed, almost attempting to get out of it, nearly falling, then deciding to stay put. I could hear him mumbling curses in Italian under his breath as I got two cigars from their case on his desk.
“And the cutter!” he added with some venom in his voice.
I came back over to the bed; he’d sat himself up after much wheezing and some more cursing. The normal color had returned to his face, and he was himself, once more.
“Bring over the table.” He gestured to the bedside table opposite, which served as a table he could maneuver over his bed, using it like a small desk. “Give the cigars,” he said dryly. I placed them in front of him with the cutter and the large crystal lighter he liked to use.
Suddenly, his hand gripped my wrist, his speed and strength catching me unaware for a split second. Before I could pull my hand back, he had my index finger inside the cigar cutter. He held my wrist with an iron grip I would never have thought possible, then he looked at me coldly.
“I did it, Jack. Yes, I killed them. And I asked you, moments ago for forgiveness.” His breath labored a little, and his eyes were still moist.
But his grip was unrelenting, and I knew that if I made a sudden movement, I would lose my finger before anything else.
“I’ve killed many men, Jack. But never a woman. Not before that night. It haunts me, sometimes.” He looked into my eyes, deeper still. “I didn’t know, Jack. I’m sorry for what happened. I’m asking your forgiveness,” he continued, glancing at the cutter, then back into my eyes, which had now set to steel.
I’d half resigned myself to losing the finger, shooting him and having a gunfight to get out of the place.
Or…
I considered the second option to myself, then to Don Leone, out loud. I felt my arm, hand, and my whole body relaxing. I licked my dry lips and held his gaze.
“Don Leone, I can’t forgive you as the child who I no longer am. As a man, I owe you my life. I owe you everything. I wanted to kill you just now, but it was a moment of weakness. Now, I must ask your forgiveness, Don Leone.” I felt his grip loosen, I took my finger from the cigar cutter, replacing it with the thousand-dollar cigar Don Leone would rather have.
He cut it and lit it in silence. The billowing, acrid plumes of blue-gray smoke filled the space between us. He knew I didn’t smoke, but it was an insult not to sit with him, holding one as he did.
He coughed more than he smoked for a while, but gradually settled into the pastime he enjoyed most. Rolling the end slowly in his mouth, gathering and spitting imaginary fragments from his lips every few moments. His eyes had grown calm again. I brought over the large ashtray for him, doing it before he needed to use it.
We sat in silence for a few more minutes, before he suddenly looked up at me, as if remembering I was still in the room with him.
“Seriously, Jack? A fucking pillow?” And we both broke out into a warm, shared laugh.