There will be more challenges now.
We pass the yard and I see a good handful of people that I’m personally responsible for putting here. Enemies galore. I can’t let my guard down, not even for a single second. I have hardly been able to sleep a wink since being in here. I don’t think that Ms. Throne properly understands just how much I need her, or how right she was about all the big talk that she was making. Probably felt like bravado to her at the time but I do have to do what she asks. Well, mostly. She’s going to be back soon when she realizes that I didn’t sign the paper that she wanted me to sign the most.
Having her as my lawyer will make people realize that I’m going to get out of here sooner rather than later. Their window of opportunity to get their revenge against me is going to quickly dwindle with every passing day. Eyes are glued to me as I walk past with my head held high.
One man stands apart from the others. Old enough to be my father, Fausto Di Gennaro came up on the scene about the same time my own father did. Old school. They do things a little bit different. He’s my real threat. He’s the only one who doesn’t look at me like he’s in a rush to kill me. Honestly, if anybody in this prison has the right to end my life, it is him. He’s not going to feel pressured by the fact that Ms. Thorne is my lawyer. Very little gets to him.
I remember the feud between my Bratva and the Camorra that put Di Gennaro behind these very bars. I put him here to rot and absorbed every one of his resources. His whole clan was imprisoned because of me. For the first few years, they suffered drastic losses as Di Gennaro can’t ever be somewhere that he’s not the top dog. Over time, however, he took over control of operations in here. Which also makes him the only one who is actually a threat to me.
The Camorra had attempted to strike up a deal with the Mexican Cartel. Problem was, the deal happened to feature something that I wanted for my Bratva. It was only good business to make a competing offer. I almost felt bad for him and the fact that he simply could not hold a candle to the raw numbers that I possessed. I walked away from the deal with all the shipments happening over the border in Neuvo Laredo. I was happy enough to let Di Gennaro’s men do all of the dirty work, and leaked some key information for Houston PD to pick them up as they crossed the city on the way to New Orleans.
Then, when the Houston PD started to move all the merchandise out of the city, my men took the inventory off of their hands.
Makes sense that he wants my head on a pike. I would too if the situation was reversed.
It is painful for me to admit that, while I was never afraid of Di Gennaro when I had the force of my Bratva behind me, now that I’m considered a rogue agent it’s unnerving how much venom is in that man’s stare.
The safest place for me is the isolation cell. Just me and the bars and four small walls that would start to feel smaller with each passing day. But I also can’t afford to make Kate’s job any harder by stepping out of line. I do consider it for a moment, though. It would only be a matter of grabbing one of these guards escorting me and wrapping one of the chains on me around their neck. I could start a fight with them and end up stuck in iso for the upcoming weeks or months but then even Kate wouldn’t be able to get visitation with me.
The damned guards take sides anyway.
Meaning all that I can do is defend myself. But even then, it seems like when another inmate throws himself at me, it’s quickly ignored, while I can’t even so much as raise my fists before they are there coming for me. It’s not just bad luck. I’m fucked if I stay here.
It’s no mystery that that the food in prison is garbage.
I can’t eat it. I move the line like I’m supposed to. The plastic tray in my hand is little more than a weapon to me. It has nothing to do with food, because nothing that’s being plopped onto the tray is edible. On either side of my body, there’s a large gap in the line. People like to give me a wide berth here. They don’t get in my way if they can help it because I’m bigger than most of the other men on this block.
Because of this, it’s real obvious what’s going to happen when another man slides into the line behind me, cutting the rest of the inmates. People have been stabbed for a lot less than that here. I know what’s coming. The man starts moving erratically, pulling his tray along with his other hand tucked firmly in his pocket. He’s glancing over his shoulder anxiously and looking to somebody across the room for confirmation. I know what’s going to happen the moment that I, too, turn to look to see who is giving the orders to him. But, to get this over with - I look.
The much smaller man behind me makes his move.
I see the glint of metal out of the corner of my eye and I move instantly. The tray of food I was not looking forward to eating comes up and I use it as a makeshift shield to knock the man’s hand away from me. The crudely made knife in his hand goes clattering to the floor. I flip the tray once more in my large hands and use it to bash the man across the head to ensure that he can’t go for the knife.
Since I’ve actually hit him, the guards arrive instantly, metal batons in their hands as they run up on me. All of my fighting instincts tell me to dodge them. I was trained for combat situations like this. It doesn’t matter if they outnumber me or that they are armed and I’m not. Pulling my punches? It’s fucking embarrassing. Di Gennaro wants me to feel like a puppet under his ministrations. The guards, the men, all pieces that he moves at his whim, I can’t let that happen to me. Di Gennaro wants me to be scared, and I’m worried that it might just work.
They are going to take their time with the long game. I know that they want to slowly break down my defenses and that this is just the beginning. Even as my arms are twisted behind my back by the guards and I’m walked out of the mess hall at the awkward, uncomfortable angle that I am, I know Di Gennaro’s loving this.
I focus on the knife on the ground, the one that was meant to kill me, and hope that Kate can work a miracle.
CHAPTER FOUR
KATE
Try as I might to forget what happened with Nikolai, his face won’t leave me.
I’m sitting at a lovely table having what will likely be a truly incredible dinner with a shockingly handsome man. Yet, Nikolai does not leave my mind’s eye. I twirl the silver dinner knife on the table within my fingers as I wait for my dinner companion to return from the restroom. Horus, he introduced himself after my charming response to his call earlier today. Normally, I would have asked for a last name but given that he’s the man Alek sent to watch over Liz and me, I don’t really feel like I'm in a position to question such things. I’m just grateful that he is here at all. He’s certainly easy enough on the eyes that I don’t have to worry about him making me uncomfortable while doing his job. Horus is tall and very well built, with dark skin and a stern expression. Yet, he doesn’t come across as cruel. Warm and inviting in his grey suit.
I certainly didn’t miss the way that Horus had subtly checked me out upon arriving. Where Nikolai was obvious and commanding in his attention, Horus is far more subtle. I can certainly appreciate that sort of thing. Charming, impossibly so. That’s the impression that I get within the first few minutes of meeting him. But, while I don’t doubt that Horus is perfectly lethal, he doesn’t have that same obviously dangerous edge that Nikolai has.
I have got to get him out of my head.
I need to focus on the facts - just the paperwork in front of me and nothing else. That’s officially why we are here anyway. It’s supposed to be a work dinner, paid for by Alek as my client, so that I can update Horus on all the details of the case. Originally, I had planned to present the signed divorce papers triumphantly, but Nikolai foiled me there as well.
“Thank you for your patience.” Horus says with a soft accent that I can’t place right away. I don’t know where to begin with him, so I merely smile as he lowers himself into the seat across from mine. This isn’t the sort of place with menus to look over. Just present any allergy concerns and they bring out course after course until the bill is placed on the table. I’ve always wanted to go to places like this but when I was married, it never was possible. According to Billy, the only reason I could ever have had to come to a place like this was to flaunt that I made money while he was stuck at home working on his various startups.
What’s so bad about liking the finer things in life?
I turn on a bright smile and lift my chin to greet Horus. “Nothing to thank me for in the slightest, I’m happy for your company.”