Page 5 of Mob Princess

2

Israel

I never understoodwhy my father wanted such a massive place to call home.

As I stared out one of the many bullet-proof windows of his sprawling mansion, I gazed upon the impeccably-tailored front yard. The lawnmower lines all filtered in the directions they needed to. The diagonal zigzag pattern appealed to any eye that might whiz down the open backroads of the area just outside of the city.

I’d spent my childhood in this place, running down these hallways and almost knocking the very expensive paintings off the walls with my shenanigans. I’d been trained inside these walls. Read my rights inside these walls. Slapped around and wrestled to the ground and debriefed inside these walls.

And yet, as I stood there trying to pull answers out of my father, I felt like a stranger in this place.

I felt like another one of my father’s pawns.

“I’m not done talking to you, son.”

I sighed. “What now, Pa?”

“I know you don’t like what I have to say, especially when it concerns your business—”

I whipped around. “Because it’s my business. Just like you don’t enjoy me prying into yours.”

He pointed at me. “I sat in your seat not too long ago, son. You better remember exactly who it is you’re speaking with. I built the empire you now run. Never forget that.”

“Actually, it was Papa who—”

He glared at me. “You need to throw her out. She’s a liability to everything we’ve built.”

“She’s also my wife. What do you suggest I do about that? There’s honor in this family.”

He shook his head. “There’s no honor in hers.”

“Pava is her uncle.”

He snickered. “And if my memory serves correct, that still makes him family to the woman you’re entertaining at night.”

“I’m not entertaining her like you think I am.”

He chuckled. “Then, you’re even dumber than I thought.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Choose your next words very carefully.”

He nodded. “All right, I will. There’s a very good chance that woman is working for Pava. Her uncle, for crying out loud.”

“He tried to burn her down in my warehouse.”

His eyes narrowed. “And you know damn good and well what Pava Moretti’s expertise is. He thrives on double-crossing people. Just like he did that woman’s parents.”

I blinked. “I never told you about Bonnie’s parents.”

He paused. “So, we finally her name.”

I took a step toward him. “How did you know about her parents?”

“Israel, be mindful of—”

“Answer me,” I bellowed.

“Who the hell doesn’t know what happened that night in this town?”

---