Page 15 of Luciano (Belles & Mobsters 1)

“I see.” In Ella’s language, it meant she was homesick. Maybe I was too, hence for the trip down memory lane.

She came around and sat down on the other chair. I handed her my glass of wine and she took it, gulping it down.

“What’s going on?” she questioned after emptying the glass.

“I checked my emails. Ruthless King was testing us with that fifth transaction.” Her brows frowned in confusion. “I don’t know what it is about. He wants us to do exclusive transactions for him over the next six months, no more than three a month.”

“Weird.”

“Yes. I didn’t reply.”

“Are you going to refuse?”

I shook my head. “No, but maybe we can renegotiate a higher fee cut if we are exclusive. Although he did offer a monthly retainer fee too.”

She nodded in agreement. “It doesn’t hurt to ask for more.”

We both stared over the dark seas; the silence broken only by the sound of waves crashing against the shoreline. The smell of the sea soothed my soul, and I hoped it did the same for Ella. Some days were harder than others. Yes, we loved it here and wanted to settle down, but we still missed home sometimes. We knew we couldn’t go back to the States without putting our lives at great risk.

“I have to tell you something, Grace.” Ella’s quiet voice shattered the silence. My eyes shifted to her. She sounded serious. “You won’t like it.”

“As long as you are not leaving me, we’ll figure out everything else.” I meant it too. Without Ella, I would have been so alone over the last three and a half years.

“Duh, I’m never leaving you,” she replied without hesitance. “We might not be blood related, but we are sisters for life.” She was right; she was more family to me than all my living blood family. She took a deep breath in and then exhaled. “When I went to the main island, I checked out the U.S. news.” I wouldn’t scold her. Not even thirty minutes ago, I was tempted to do the same. I held my breath, waiting for whatever was to come. “Your uncle filed a petition to transfer all your assets to him due to the evidence you are deceased.”

I stared at her, sure that I heard it wrong. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” she muttered.

“He had evidence that I’m dead? That doesn’t make any sense.” Although, I’d never put it past my uncle and my family to proclaim me dead to get their paws on my inheritance. My parents had enough sense to secure it all into a trust till my twenty-fifth birthday. Which was coming up rapidly.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled. “It pissed me off that he’d rob you of what’s yours. So I sent evidence through a secured mail that you are alive, along with the picture.”

It wasn’t a smart thing to do. She knew it, and so did I. But I understood why she did it. I would have probably done the same if our roles were reversed. After all, that inheritance belonged to my son too.

“Damn, I hope it’s one of the good pictures,” I replied instead of scolding her. She was beating herself up enough as it was. We locked eyes and burst into fits of giggles. It wasn’t funny that my family pretty much took everything from me and now went after the inheritance too. But crying wouldn’t help us.

“I sent the one from our rave party in Germany.”

I rolled my eyes. “Okay, that one is not too bad.”

Turning my head back out, facing the sea, I stared at the moon’s reflection against the surface of the waves. It was so peaceful in this little corner of the world. You could almost pretend all the evil of this world didn’t exist. But it did, lurking in the shadows. My family was a big part of it.

Money, the root of all evil, but we couldn’t live without it. Ella and I learned that the hard way, after struggling. In the first three months, we moved from one European city to the next every two weeks, scared that we would be found. We tried hard to watch our money, but unfamiliar with going without, we didn’t do a good job. We were both constantly tired and initially lost weight. Even with my pregnancy progressing, it felt like whatever little clothes I had, they hung loose on me.

Two girls in the big, scary world. If we were killed nobody would have missed us. Because we were ghosts, traveling with fake documents either via train or bus, dragging from hostel to hostel, sometimes even sleeping at train stations. We kept our heads down and to ourselves. We often lost track of where we were. Sometimes I’d break down and cry at the cruelty of it all, and Ella would comfort me. Other times, she’d have a meltdown, and I’d help her through it. We survived because we had each other.

As the cash became frighteningly low, we started looking for jobs. Anything that would help us make a little money and survive. Our limited language skills were our downfall. We even got so desperate that we tried pickpocketing. Neither one of us managed a single one successfully so we gave that one up. But we had a little break with the last guy, Dietrich, we tried to steal from. He was a runner for a local crime gang. He cleaned their money and offered to pay us the commission if we helped him.

It came down to starving and living on the streets or giving this a try. The best part was that the guy maintained he did all the laundering himself with his supplier. It didn’t matter to Ella and I, as long as we got paid.

It benefited us to be off everyone's radar, and it was the reason that Ella and I set up layers of security as we grew our customers. We quickly started finding our own clients… well, criminals if I was being honest and we grew. We were both determined we wouldn’t be hungry again or search for somewhere to sleep safely in the middle of the night.

Dietrich unknowingly saved our lives. Ella and he dated for a bit. We never told him our story, but he picked up on the fact that we didn’t want to be found. So, he gave us pointers on how to be invisible, how to make money on the black market and remain hidden from the suppliers.

We worked hard to keep ourselves invisible, and for the first time ever, I wondered if maybe I should just let my family get their dirty paws on my inheritance. It wasn’t worth my life, Matteo’s, nor Ella’s. We didn’t need millions. If I worked for Ruthless King for a few more years, we’d be settled for life.

“What are you thinking, Grace?”

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