Page 2 of Relentless Refuge

“I fear nothing.” I glare at him sternly and calm myself. “Wisdom is knowing your enemy and when you’ve been bested, and in thisscenario, it’s better to step back and make a new plan moving forward.” Victor has so much to learn. His impulsive nature will get him killed if he’s not careful.

“Well,” Darnel chimes in, “there is the possibility of an alliance.” He raises his cup and tips it, appearing thoughtful. “Albert runs a tight ship. Surely, he has connections. If you’re willing to cough up a percentage, he may allow you to tap some of his resources, perhaps help his business grow.”

The D’Angelo family from Newark is a formidable force, and yet they remain happily within their territory. My father had a history with them, and my grandfather before them, but I’ve not worked the connection since taking the Family’s reins. Our mutual enemy assures me that they would be open to at the very least a gentlemen’s meeting. After all, the enemy of my enemy is my friend.

“Tell me more.” I glance at the liquor cabinet, wishing it were closer but not feeling like rising to refill my glass. Then I look back at Darnel who is stroking his beard.

“Think about it, Marco. Albert runs the largest gun smuggling business west of the Hudson. In fact, it’s likely that our guy had connections with his suppliers too. We don’t know their names, but we know a man who knows their names. We’re at peace with the Family, and we have no history of hostility with them. It’s a smart move. Your father would have done it.”

An alliance with the Italians on the other side of the river seems like a long shot, but it’s worth thinking about. If nothing else, we’ll have exhausted our resources and options. But this is a last-ditch effort to keep the business afloat and save the customers we already have in line for military-grade weapons.

“We’ll do it. Set up the meeting.” I rise, ignoring the scowl on Victor’s face, and walk to the liquor cabinet. This night calls for another drink, and then I’ll wash the blood from my hands and turn in. I hope Darnel knows what he’s talking about.

2

ISABELLA

The door to my father’s office is cracked. Smoke sneaks out, tickling my nose. The man who sits across from his desk is handsome—strikingly so. His thick, dark hair hangs across his forehead, threatening to cover his dark eyes, and his well-groomed beard is flecked with a few gray hairs. But he’s younger than Father, probably by a decade or more. I’m eavesdropping, but only because the man is so magnetic.

“What you’re suggesting is controversial, Mr. Romano. I wonder what your father would say about it.” Father rolls his cigar along the rim of the ashtray and reclines in his leather chair. Lucco, my half-wit brother, tries to act cool by mimicking Father’s actions, and the cherry from his stogie rolls away into the ash. He scowls and fumbles with it, only to send ash plumes into the air.

The tall, dark, and handsome man leans forward in his seat to dispense of his ash just as the maid approaches up the hallway. I watch him roll his cigar around and listen to his mellow baritone as he sits back in the seat.

“New things lead to new possibilities and new friendships, Alberto. You know that. And what better way to expand both ofour empires than a mutually assured success story, rooted in this alliance? You have nothing to lose.”

I could squeal with delight at the rumbling of his voice. It’s melodic and warm, sinking into my pores and awakening my feminine desires. I’ve listened in on Father’s meetings before, but I’ve never seen this man before. Besides the fact that most of his acquaintances are older and firmly attached to someone. But this man, Mr. Romano, has no wedding ring. And though he’s older than me by several years, the way it appears, he is pleasing on the eye and makes my heart flutter each time he speaks.

“Ms. D’Angelo, I must take your father his tea.” Elsa, the maid and my nanny when I was just a girl, stands politely behind me. She’s seen me eavesdrop on Father’s meetings plenty of times and knows not to say a word. The last time she ratted on me for listening to his meeting, I stole my mother’s diamond tennis bracelet and placed it in Elsa’s room, framing her for the job.

When I just “happened” to come across it, I accused her of thievery and threatened to tell my father, which of course would have been the end of Elsa, and she quickly learned not to double-cross me.

“I’ll take it in,” I blurt out, reaching for the tray with the porcelain teapot and three white teacups. She’s arranged a smattering of sweetener packets, a creamer, and three small spoons.

“Oh, I can’t let you do that, Ms. D’Angelo. Your father will?—”

“Give me the tray, Elsa,” I snap at her and grip the edge of the tray with a glare aimed at her. If looks could kill, she would be dead, and she gets the point.

“Yes, mum,” she mutters, backing away.

Satisfied, I turn with the tray in hand and take a deep, cleansing breath. I’m more interested in the handsome gentleman with whom my father speaks than the actual topic of the meeting. I’m literally starved for any romantic attention. Father has me “set aside” forsomething special, he calls it, but I know that means he’s waiting until an arrangement comes up to marry me off in a business transaction. I’ve known that was my fate since I was just a preteen. Though I’ve always longed to be in the action with him, leading the Family.

When Elsa is down the hallway, I nudge the door with my knee and push it open. Their conversation—which I’ve missed half of now—drops as I walk in carrying the tray. Father pays me no attention, but Lucco glares at me like a rabid dog about to attack. Mr. Romano, whose first name I have yet to learn, watches me carefully, his eyes tracing every movement I make as I walk in and set the tea tray on the desk between the men.

It's silent and awkward, and I was hoping for some sort of a different greeting from at least one of them, but I pour the tea and offer them each their cup. Lucco snatches his out of my hand and sits back in his seat hastily. Father nods at the sugar packets and snaps his fingers at me, the way he would Elsa, so I oblige him and tear two packets open and pour them into his cup.

“Mr. Romano?” I say, turning my attention to the handsome stranger.

“I’ll have a splash of cream, thank you.” He holds his cup up, but his eyes stay fixed on my face as he continues speaking to my father. “Mr. D’Angelo, you didn’t tell me your daughter was so stunning.”

Father waves his hand in the air and furrows his eyebrows. “She’s spoken for. Now, Isabella, if you would excuse us, we have some business to discuss.”

“I believe business would be sweeter with such a beautiful and charming young woman to ensure my teacup remains full. Don’t you?”

Mr. Romano is charming as well as handsome, and I find myself feeling giddy over the attention he pays me. I don’t even look at Lucco’s face. It would only ruin my good mood. But I do look to my father because I respect him and believe he knows best, even when I don’t like what he decides for me. He merely waves his hand at me again, but the look on his face is consent enough for me to stay.

“So, for ten percent of the profit of every transaction, you will have access to my suppliers and their businesses? That sounds too generous, Marco. Deceptively so.” Father takes a drag from his cigar and blows smoke rings that swirl and rise toward the ceiling, and my new-found obsession sips his tea.

“This alliance will be mutually beneficial.” Marco’s gaze wanders from my face to my father’s. “In the beginning, I will work at a loss, but as we build the trade, everyone will benefit. You will see, in time, we will exceed your wildest dreams.” He, too, sucks on his cigar, then turns back to me. “And what does the lovely Isabella think of our arrangement? You’ve heard it from your place outside the door, have you not?”

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